I've been a busy little bee of late, so not had a chance to think up a spectacular post. Instead, I’m going to cheat and share my new fabulous book trailer, made by fellow Beachwalk Babe, Tamaria Sona. Plus a sneak peak of my October release, The Monster of Fame.
See, told you it was fabulous ;o)
And here’s an excerpt from the story:
Lurking in a shadowed corner of a corridor could be construed as creepy.
Miles didn’t care.
Ever since he’d left the room where Annabelle should have been celebrating, he’d had the craziest notion to make sure she was okay.
Most of the other contestants were already gone. He’d been waiting here almost ten minutes behind a large leafy house plant near the exit of Studio Four. The urge to tap his foot against the hardwood floor as an outlet for his impatience was wearing on him. He ground his teeth. Patience was highly overrated in his opinion.
“I’ll miss you too.” He’d recognize Annabelle’s voice anywhere. Odd, he thought. Miles had barely heard her speak. “Look me up on EconEkt. My username is annabella,” she continued and he filed the information away for future reference. He wasn’t on EconEkt. He thought thirty-six was a bit too old for social networking, but his company, Oliver Records, had a page. He’d ask the IT guys if they’d show him how to work it.
While he was debating new ways to practically stalk Annabelle, the blue-eyed angel came into sight. The girl she’d consoled earlier passed on her username, but he had no interest in listening to it. They were nearing the glass doors to the exit and he had to act now or lose his one opening to befriend Annabelle. Letting her escape without speaking to her first wasn’t an option.
“Annabelle,” he called, stepping away from his hiding place. “Have you got a minute?”
Both girls spun around and Annabelle fixed him with wide eyes. “Um…”
“Go ahead, Anna, I’ll add you later and we’ll catch up.” Miles caught the girl’s wink as she left Annabelle and Miles alone in the corridor.
“Do you want to grab a coffee?” he asked the instant her friend was out of ear shot.
She turned to him, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “That will take longer than a minute.”
He winced at the defensive note in her Scottish accent. “Okay, half an hour then.” She folded her arms across her chest and chewed on her lip. He could see she was nervous. She probably thought he was going to tell her to leave again.
“I promise I won’t ask you to leave the show.” Yet, he corrected silently. “I just want to talk.” He threw her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
Pink tinged her cheekbones and her eyes turned cobalt blue. “About what?”
Beyond the glass doors he saw a man crouched behind a small squared hedge. There was a camera in his hands. It was aimed straight at them.
“Not here. Come on.” Without waiting for her reply, he gripped her upper arm and pulled her back into the building.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to wriggle out of his hold.
“There’s a photographer outside,” he explained, keeping a firm grip on her arm as he marched them further into the studio.
They’d reached the end of the corridor and he turned right. “So,” he tried to imitate her accent. It was a poor attempt, but he couldn’t help himself. “Unless you want to be in all the papers tomorrow morning, I thought we might take this somewhere private.”