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Esha laughed. “Do it in your real wedding.”
Rohan felt a jolt at her words though his feelings had stopped making any sense at all. He found her pajama-clad wet avatar very sensual. Her hair was wet from the shower and a few droplets fell on her collarbone, like dew drops on a rose petal. Now that he was finally alone with Esha, he wanted to further muss up her hair and kiss those wet pearls away. But never had he imagined that he would be alone in a room with her amidst roses and that her intoxicating perfume would drive him crazy. Theirs wasn’t a marriage in the true sense and yet her lips were calling out to him to feel them with his own.
But he was sure that she wouldn’t appreciate it. He forced himself to lean back on the pillow and give her an easy smile to fight his raging hormones. “So, which side of the bed is yours?”
She looked at him sharply to check if he was laughing at her predicament. She then went to her purse and took out a tape—a big, brown one.
“Naughty, naughty,” he said sitting up, suddenly feeling the air crackling between them with an invisible electric thread that was slowly pulling them towards each other. “What’s your intention darling?”
Esha gave him an evil grin and sashayed towards him, all the while opening the tape. “You didn’t think I would be prepared?” she asked, her voice husky. Any hot-blooded man would find this a big turn-on but Rohan sat up straight, wondering if she was drunk.
“Esha, I think we should go to sleep now.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “It’s getting very late.”
She threw back her head and laughed, “The night is still young, darling.” She opened the tape further and climbed on the bed, inching slowly towards him as she rolled it out. Rohan could feel his heart skipping a few beats. He wanted her no doubt, but he was not expecting this and her strange behavior made him uncomfortable.
“Do you want something to eat?” He sounded lame even to himself. She threw her head back and looked at him, her sherry colored eyes darkening into molten chocolate, and the light breeze from the window caught her silk tresses and made them dance to a tune of their own. She bit her lower lip and leaned in front of him, staring deep into his eyes. “Are you nervous?”
“Why are you behaving like this?” he asked, trying to get out of the bed. He felt an invisible hand clutching his stomach but he kept his tone breezy. “Are we taking this night to mean what it is meant to be? I’m ready if you are.”
If she took another step forward, her breasts would touch him. What the devil was she playing at? He couldn’t even lean back further since the head rest was stopping any further movement. She leaned forward but instead of coming towards him, she went beyond him and stuck the edge of the tape to the middle of the bed post. She then pulled the tape down – further and further and a line was drawn along the middle of the bed.
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Author: Aarti V Raman
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About The Author
Author: Reet Singh
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3. Ruchi Singh
The Story :
For three months, Simi Gill gets to do what she loves – train to be a doctor and learn more about medicine. As a bonus, she gets to forget about the shallow boyfriend who dumped her, and worse, who hurt her. Living it up in New York, far from her home in India, she is saved by the delicious Rudy Bhatnagar, not once, but two times in one night!
A talented surgeon with a heart of gold, Rudy can’t stop himself from thinking about Simi Gill. He tries very hard – for having had his heart broken before, he’s not sure he can risk it again. But fate has other plans. Thrown together by bizarre circumstances, they survive booze and babysitting with aplomb. Will they realize they’re perfect for each other or will they let precious love slip through their fingers?
About The Author
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Please join me in congratulating Maya Tyler on the release of her new book Dream Hunter. She is here to share the story of her writing journey with you. A warm welcome, Maya. I know you have been through tough times but you stuck to writing through it all. You have proved that persistence pays. Let’s hear it in your words 🙂
My Writing Journey: The Precursor to Dream Hunter by Maya Tyler
“Life is a journey, not a destination.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
Once upon a time there was a little girl with a big dream. She wanted to become a writer. As the little girl grew up, her plans for the future grew up too. Instead of writing, she went to university and earned a business degree in accounting. She worked a Monday-to-Friday, nine-to-five job day in and day out, always wondering in the back of her mind “if only”.
Life changed. She got married, bought a house, bought another house, bought a puppy, had a baby. Then her husband got sick and all priorities changed. She picked up writing again, had another baby. Life was short and she learned you never knew what lay just around the corner. In a responsible way, they adopted a “you only live once” policy. They started seriously saving for the future, paying down the mortgage, and taking their kids on trips.
She realized that life passes all of us by in the blink of an eye and she didn’t want any more regret. So she got serious about writing again, juggling the day job with the husband and kids. She acknowledged her dream was still to become a writer.
Writing is a process, a journey. When you read a book, it doesn’t seem that hard to string letters together to make words, words together to make sentences, etc. But it is. Everything seems simple until you try it for yourself. 🙂 But everything worth having is worth working for.
How did I get here? Everything that happened in my life had brought me to this moment in time, shaped the person I am. My husband doesn’t like being sick, but he maintains that his disability has made him a better person. Maybe it’s made me a better person too? It certainly was a wake-up call. Life is fragile, precious, and fleeting. Whether I have five years or fifty left on this Earth, I want to make the most of it.
My hopes and dreams for the future are simple. I want to take care of my family, be the best person I can be, and make the world a better place for my kids. Our needs are simple too. Modest roof over our heads, healthy food in our stomachs. And I want to live life without regret.
It’s difficult to focus on the future without first examining the past. I imagine that most people have some regret. Something they wish they could do over. The choices I’ve made shape the person I’ve become. If I changed everything in my life I regret, then I wouldn’t be me. Instead I will take those experiences and incorporate them into my writing framework.
I have a very overactive imagination; it’s probably what makes me conjure up such fantastic story ideas. Plus I have some crazy dreams (see above about story ideas). I love telling a story. I always wrote when I was a kid and, now, I enjoy making up stories for my kids (or re-telling the classics in a not so classic way). This love of story-telling has propelled me into achieving a lifelong dream of writing a book.
My first publication is a novella called Dream Hunter, a story I wrote inspired by a dream I had.
Cynthia’s dreams are so real, they are actually coming true – complete with the prerequisite dream guy. But things are not as they seem.
Who said dreams are sweet?
Chicago businesswoman Cynthia Courtland is completely focused on her career when a sensual, reoccurring dream disrupts her orderly life. Then a threat against her workplace forces her to take time off. She is lost with nowhere to go – only her empty apartment.
Work is Gabe’s life too; he takes it very seriously and will do whatever it takes to succeed. He is watching over Cynthia and he has her best interests at heart, but he isn’t who he seems.
Cynthia insists on investigating the threat so she can get back to work. When things settle, will there be more for them than a life filled with work? Will she give her dreams a chance to come true?
Cynthia’s dream come to life was the existence of her hero, Gabe. My dream brings them both to life within the pages of Dream Hunter.
I am inspired to tell a story. I have many stories left to tell. My dream to write is not complete with the publication of one novella. The end of Dream Hunter is not the end, but merely signifies the start of a new beginning, a new chapter of my life, the start of my writing journey. And it all starts on December 30th with the release of…
Thanks for reading and come visit me anytime.
Dream Hunter….the title is so intriguing, isn’t it? I love suspenseful reads and can’t wait to check it out.
Are you a writer? What was most difficult in your writing journey?
There’s a stranger at the door on Christmas Day…
Single mother Paige Summerville wants to give her seven-year-old son the Christmas of his dreams. Jason needs surgery to beat the illness that’s plagued his young life, leaving Paige desperate to make ends meet. So she turns to a charity that grants the wishes of sick children…
Then a stranger arrives bearing gifts for Jason—and for her. He’s Daniel Kinsley, a lawyer who’s grown cynical about family. But his kindness in making Jason’s wishes come true offers him more than he ever imagined. Is there room in Paige’s heart for a man who could fulfill all their dreams? And not just at Christmas!
WHAT WAS IT about the holidays, Daniel Kinsley wondered as he returned to his desk, that seemed to bring out the worst in people?
He was glad he had some time to spare before his next appointment. His meeting with Gloria Farnsworth had put him in a miserable mood. He dropped heavily into his chair and swung it around to stare out the window. Across the street, a billboard displaying a Norman Rockwell–style scene seemed to mock him. It showed a cheerful, ruddy-faced Santa distributing brightly wrapped gifts to an elegantly dressed and ridiculously happy family. The husband clasped his wife’s hand affectionately, and the model-perfect woman stroked the blonde curls of a little girl in a red velvet dress. Daniel snorted. Did anyone really live like that? Not in his experience.
He thought of his own parents and their respectful, polite relationship. When was the last time he’d seen his parents touch? For that matter, his mother’s obligatory cheek kisses aside, he couldn’t recall his parents ever touching him with affection. They never argued. They never fought. But he also wasn’t sure they actually loved each other. A sad statement, especially after forty-three years of marriage.
It didn’t help his mood to remember that he’d agreed to spend more than a week with them in Newport over the holidays. He knew there’d be no Christmas cheer in that. At times he questioned why his parents stayed together. Then again, maybe they had it right. No love, no pain. Not wanting to dwell on it, he allowed his thoughts to come full circle to Gloria Farnsworth.
Daniel turned away from the window and looked down at the open Farnsworth case file on his desk. He’d been tempted to tell Gloria to find another lawyer. But would that really have accomplished anything? More than half his cases disgusted him in one way or another. Okay, maybe none quite as much as the Farnsworth case, but if he wanted to extricate himself from cases that he found morally reprehensible, where exactly would he draw the line?
He picked up his pen and twirled it between his fingers.
Gloria Farnsworth was definitely at the extreme end. She’d torn a strip off him when he told her she should be satisfied with the spousal support her husband had agreed to—generous in his estimation—and accept that she was on shaky ground trying to get child support for a nineteen-year-old who wasn’t attending school and didn’t have a job. Gloria had demanded to know under what conditions she would be entitled. And fool that he was, he’d treated her like a rational person and explained some of the circumstances under which case law might entitle her to child support. He never would’ve imagined that she’d jump on one of the alternatives and willingly label her own son mentally disabled for the sake of gouging more money out of her soon-to-be-ex.