Alex's body is in a coma. His soul, however, is not. Desperate to become whole, he must first convince stubborn beauty Evening Sinclair that he is not dead.
For generations, the Sinclairs have been healers. Using a gentle touch to heal the body and a soothing word to heal the soul, Evening Sinclair is no different. Yet despite her secret abilities, Eve has a some what normal existence, She enjoys her small physiotherapy practice, dotes on her eight-year-old daughter and occasionally helps souls get back into their bodies-that is until Alex, with his brooding good looks and glowing eyes, appears in her kitchen.
Alex is desperate to get back into his body- two innocent lives depend on it. His only obstacle is Eve and her stubborn fear. Unfortunately for Eve, Alex is ruthless and just as stubborn. He will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. He will not 'go away' and no matter how much Eve tortures him with her lush body and perfect mouth, he will not change his mind. Eve will merge him, and if it takes him haunting her day and night, she will merger him back with a body-any body.
“Wow! This is quite the boring room.”
“It’s used for sleeping. I don’t want it exciting.”
She walked over to the long black dresser and picked up a business card with a pair of lips created out of bright red lipstick. She held it up and waved it at him. “Not only sleeping I see.” She flicked the card with her fingers. “One of many conquests I assume.” Then dropped the card back on the dresser.
“Not so many.”
He grinned when he heard her snort, “I doubt that.”
She sighed and went to move past him. He shifted his body blocking her escape. “Well then you would be wrong. The women I date want exactly what I want…sex. Nothing more, nothing less.” He kept pace with her when she backed away.
“I’ve made certain of it or I wouldn’t have been with them. I can’t be with a woman that has a family or wants a family, so that limits the playing field.”
By the time Eve was done backing up, he had followed her clear across the room and pinned her against the window. He placed a hand on either side of her head.
“I have a family,” she pointed out.
“Yes.” He stared at her lush mouth. “I’ve met them.”
“Why did we have sex, if you don’t want to be near women that have or want families?” She tried move under his arm, but he caught her by the waist and held her against the window.
“I don’t know.” He glared down at her, trying to figure out that very reason. “You’re different.”
She scowled up at him. “Different how?”
He scanned her face, touched her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, enjoying that familiar tingle. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “It’s hard to describe this feeling I have.” He focused on her hazel eyes, loving the green slivers in them. “It’s almost as if I’m drawn to you. As if you have some power over me.”
She shook her head, eyes wide. “I haven’t done anything to draw you to me. Not my voice, nothing. I didn’t do anything, and I didn’t ask for this, so just leave me alone if you want.”
“That’s the problem.” He lowered his face, his nose an inch away from hers. “I just can’t leave you alone. I can do it with any other woman. But not you.” His words turned hard. “I hate that you have lied to me and I hate that you are hiding something from me. Normally, I would just leave, but I can’t. I want you, but I don’t want to want you.”
Nancy will be awarding a Grand Prize of a $20 Amazon.com GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. An e-Copy of No Matter When will be awarded to another randomly drawn commenter during the tour. So the more you comment, the better your chances of winning.
November 5: Reviews Unleashed
November 12: Sharing Links and Wisdom
November 12: Booker Like a Hooker
November 19: Books on Silver Wings
November 26: Wicked Readings by Tawania
Author Bio and Links:
My name is Nancy Adams. I am a full-blooded Canadian, right down to the maple syrup running though my veins. I enjoy watching hockey but despise skating...and the cold. I enjoy a good helping of Tourtiere with a side of Poutine as much as the next person, yet I am only bilingual when it comes to swear words.Besides writing, I have three small - but legal - addictions: bed linens, lavender and books. All of which are replenished on a regular basis. Reading into the wee hours of the morning is one of my many bad habits, next to spontaneously rearranging furniture and randomly painting rooms in my house.
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