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Amazon Review - 5 stars * * * * *
"Thoroughly enjoyed this for a first novel this was well written and has one looking forward to the sequel."
- M.J. Gilson
"Thoroughly enjoyed this for a first novel this was well written and has one looking forward to the sequel."
- M.J. Gilson
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RAVEN HARBOR ROMANCE, BOOK 1, OLIVIA
Olivia Sarlin thought she’d met the man of her fantasies in her home town of Raven Harbor. She's in hot pursuit when a sexy mystery man bowls her over like china in a tea shop. The sparks between them ignites an inner flame that Olivia can't quell. But her new path to love has a road block—a would-be suitor with a malevolent heart who will stop at nothing to have her. His ardent obsession sets off a string of events that threaten to throw a wrench into her life and come between her and the man she loves. READ A SNEAK PREVIEW BELOW... |
OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES
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RAVEN HARBOR NOVELS...
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SNEAK PEEK
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Chapter One
“Olivia! Olivia! Look over here! Who are you wearing? Olivia, photo! Smile! Gorrrgeous!” Cameras flashed all around her, the light blinding her temporarily, but they were coming straight for her and there was no time to duck. The paparazzi pressed in, enveloping Olivia Sarlin only to shove roughly past, buffeting her as they tore off in rabid pursuit of their actual quarry, the Olivia that tonight's party was really for, the famous Olivia Jade Taylor now fleeing in the opposite direction. As the frenzy of photographers stampeded into the distance, she frantically gasped for breath and let out a feeble squeak. Her panicked heart was beating a hole in her chest, her head twitching from left to right as she scanned the area for more clambering hordes. Her once-sleek butterscotch blonde up-do looked more than a little worse for wear, and her sad little press pass was lying, slightly bent, on the pavement at her feet. Assuming the coast was clear, she bent down to swoop it up and BAM! Someone slammed into her from behind, sending her skidding forward—a perilous move in stiletto heels. “What the freaking hell?” With her butt in the air, Olivia was still on two feet but barely. Her hands had saved her from diving headfirst onto the pavement, while another pair of hands, his, were firmly grasping her hips. Pushing off from the ground, she straightened her body and shook free. Then she focused her eyes on a tall, dark-haired man with a long-lens camera slung around his neck. Trying to get a better look for the forensic ‘perp’ sketch she would damn-well have done later, she brushed stray hair from her eyes as well some stuck to her pink-glazed lips. The man wore a ball cap and a two-day scruff of beard, which because she’d forgotten to put in her contacts, made it extra hard for her to get a good look. His large, dark sunglasses obscured his eyes completely. Obviously another photographer, a beastly straggler catching up to his herd, had nearly run her down. “Sorry,” he said casually, focusing all his concern on his camera. Having barely stopped, he readjusted his ball cap, pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and continued quickly on his way. His gear bag swung past, and Olivia dodged the near miss to her head. With cameras clattering, the man took off running after the rest of the bloody paparazzi. “Is that all you can say?” she screeched. If she could have shot daggers out of her green eyes at him, she surely would have. “Sorry? Loser. You people are freaking criminals. I hope Olivia Jade Taylor breaks your camera-wielding aaasss!” Her voice cracked as she drew out the ‘a’ in ass. In her fury, Olivia the lesser-known had stopped feeling rattled. Clasping it firmly, she brushed a little road dust off her damaged press pass. Then with wind-borne blonde tendrils fluttering behind her, she strode swiftly toward the hotel. Chapter Two Eden Point was the newest and chicest “boutique” resort on Majic Beach, if not in the whole Raven Harbor area. It was picturesquely perched on a cliff overlooking a private cove with endless ocean views beyond. Olivia had seen a glossy, full-page ad that proclaimed the hotel to be ‘spacious but intimate’, and ‘temple-like.’ She’d dismissed it as the sort of hypey magazine-speak publicists always used. But as she passed through the front door, she believed she would testify to that. Entering the lobby, she was bathed in a glow that suffused every corner. Giant cedar pillars reached up to the vaulted, Swarovski crystal-inlaid ceiling. She only knew that because she’d read the feature in that month’s Architectural Digest. But at that moment, she truly felt as if a glamorous aura had been cast upon her by the vaulted-ceiling angels, who obviously lived above and sprinkled diamond-dust upon the mortals below. Its effect was refreshing—tranquilizing even. Shocking how much serenity a billion dollars could buy. |
The entire hotel had been closed to the public for the evening; the walled grounds tightly secured by local police. She’d heard a rumor it was also likely federal Special Agents would be prowling, too, given the presence of a member of the British Royal Family. Although having been smack dab in the full photographic fray, Olivia hadn’t actually seen tonight’s famous guest. So far, the only evidence in view was the two-storey image of the amber-haired celluloid goddess looming before her. The movie star was set to emerge at some point during the evening, of course, though Olivia imagined it would be for only the briefest moments. Tonight’s glittering party was to fête the actress’ latest film in the series starring her as a sexy but brutal space superhero. ‘The Sigourney Weaver of the new cinema’, declared the tag line of the poster. “Perfect timing.” Olivia swept a flute of bubbly from the tray of a passing waiter. This was one of those parties: swag, couture and free booze. She wasn’t wearing couture, nor did she have much hope tonight of scoring any swag, but at least she could drink all the Champagne she could get her hands on. Taking the first glass down in a few quick gulps, she absconded with another as the waiter circled back her way. The inner bubbles had begun banishing her outer jitters. It was time to check out the room. Olivia took in the hum of the scene of beautiful A-listers and film industry people. Quiet ambient music pulsed in the background. The rear of the lobby was fully open all the way back into the garden; its immense glass windows now hidden in wall pockets. The garden was in full spring blossom, and a glorious floral perfume infused the air. The perimeter of the 400 acre property was walled and gated completely. Only ticketed invitees and accredited press could get anywhere near the grounds. No tickee, no party. This sort of assembly of the glitterati wasn’t that unusual for this town, small as it was. Raven Harbor was the kind of place where the very wealthy kept their second or third or umpteenth ‘home’—the kind of home they visited once a year, whose staff spent more time in it than the owners ever would. With a couple of glasses now down the gullet, she was tipsy and, not oddly, more self-composed. Champagne can do that for a girl. She looked down and carefully smoothed out her beloved vintage dress. She was pleased to see it was unscathed and as glistening as the moment she danced with it out of the store. However, on her matching velvet shoes below she spied a scuff mark and whimpered. They were also vintage, but new to her and fabulously girlie, if not a bit over-the-top. Well, she thought, trying to look on the bright side, I can probably get them fixed and at least they ain’t Manolos. She let loose a soft snort and then quickly looked up, hoping no one had heard her. Standing on her tippy toes she craned her neck trying to relocate the Champagne waiter. Teetering precariously on her heels, she swayed unsteadily and then stumbled, breast-first into a muscular, beautifully-dressed arm. Just as she was about to completely lose her balance, the other tailored arm reached out and grasped her strongly, keeping her upright. Only inches away, a pair of ice-blue eyes fused momentarily with hers, and the beautiful sandy-haired man murmured, “Steady on.” Reassured that she was still standing, he smiled, winked and released her, leaving only his cologne to linger and Olivia to stare at his magnificent derrière as he walked away. Breathlessly, her mouth hung open. The whole thing had passed by in seconds. It was HIM, and she’d not said one word! |
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© AMY CHANEL
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