The Price of Desire: Volume 1 (The Price Series) Kindle Edition
All Lalune wants to do is sing. Problem is, she's underwater. Literally. This despairing mermaid needs a way out. Only a miracle will do.
Monique's exit from her blazing culinary career has left her heart raw and cold. A sizzling weekend with the hottest man she's ever seen melts her defenses. But is it enough to light her fire once again?
These two stories travel from the dark depths of the Pacific Ocean to the bright lights of Las Vegas, connecting in a deliciously surprising twist.
The Price of Desire is a steamy, standalone novel with a blend of contemporary romance and magical fantasy. Continue the saga in Sex, Money, and the Price of Truth.
Previously released as Fish Tails & Lady Legs
Best Book Bit:
He grew louder and I grew silent. He grew larger, and I shrank.
Silence became my husband’s lover. A lifetime of meticulously chosen words, and a short period of incoherent raging, left me mute. No need to wonder what happened after one screamed so violently that the voice failed. Silence, of course.
Whose hand is over my mouth, I wondered, powerless to move my mouth with an inexplicable case of lockjaw. Being incapable of complaining also meant no oral sex. He would suffer for what he had done.
By not speaking, I could bear the dishonesty. By feigning agreement, I would keep the peace. By locking my jaw, I could stop being force fed his chilling torment.
Silence cooked for him, silence slept with him and silence hung on his arm, right alongside the Rolex, neither making even a tick.
Maybe I had used up my quota of words. A bit soon, I thought, but not impossible. Or maybe, by using words like weapons, which I had done with so many others, I had broken some covenant and been banned to the land of the speechless.
Be seen and not heard, resurrected from childhood. Silent AND deadly.
How much venom could be produced with a wordless gaze, a tight-lipped grimace, a rigid backed response? A nearly fatal dose, I came to understand, without the need to bare the fangs locked behind the prison of my mouth.
Everyone could see the cause of this strange symptom, the locking of my jaw. But I dared not even think the thought – my life was sealing my lips shut.
What would I have to admit, about my own part in the tragic farce, to say, “He did this, and I let him?”
Silence was the price for security, the counterfeit for connection, as valuable as any of the constant lies. Whether spoken or not, dishonesty was our secret code.