Find more from this author on:
About the author:
Impressed by their heartfelt, down-to-earth portrayal of love and sex, I developed a voracious appetite for contemporary romance books. I was so inspired by the genre that I decided to explore that world as a writer. I embarked on writing three books. All of which still remain on my computer. Then Aidan Thornhill entered my imagination and came alive on paper. From that moment, like all emotional love stories, nothing else mattered. I fell in love, and was compelled to write, almost in a frenzy, every day without fail which resulted in Entrance, Enlighten and Enfold (Thornhill Trilogy). I am presently working on my latest novel, The Importance of Being Wild.
What inspired you to write your book?
My inspiration for this story came from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. It's not exactly like that, of course, but Aidan Thornhill has a similar brooding quality to Rochester. Like Rochester, Aidan regrets his past. Clarissa Moone, like Jane Eyre, is self-contained, creative, and although gentle in nature, is tremendously smart. And, as with Jane, Clarissa's fortune rises when she receives employment working for Aidan Thornhill at his large, beguiling estate. But that is the only comparison, for in Thornhill trilogy passion fills the pages early on in the story, and being a contemporary romance there is a fair share of steamy, descriptive love-making.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Next minute, the sexy gardener was there by my side, inscrutable as usual in baseball cap and dark glasses. This time he was bare-chested, setting off a warm pulse below. He was so hot my breath hitched. Speechless, I clutched onto my sarong.
He appeared a giant compared to my five-foot-two frame. My eyes drank him like ambrosia. In the sun, the dusting of hair on his firm, rippling chest shimmered. Droplets of water, which I suddenly thirsted for, settled on the puckered flesh of his tanned, shapely biceps. His wet shorts hugged his muscular thighs. I nearly swooned when I noticed a considerable bulge clinging to his drenched shorts. Is that an erection?
Reminded I was topless beneath my slightly see-through sarong, I tightened my grip. The heat raging through me was intense. My nipples, with a mind of their own, pierced through the thin fabric.
I couldn’t see where his eyes were behind those dark glasses. But I felt his gaze burning into me anyway. With no idea how long I’d been staring, my senses scattered.
At last, the god spoke. “I’m sorry about that. He’s taken a shine to you, which is unusual for Rocket. He’s generally reserved, bordering on anti-social.” A deep, sexy voice accompanied his scrumptious physique, which was fortunate. A high-pitched voice would have been heart-breaking.