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About the author:
Talia Hunter likes writing about smart, funny women, and the men who set their hearts on fire. Her motto is, If you aren’t laughing, you aren’t doing it right.
A formerly committed city dweller, she’s recently moved to the country. She’s put in a veggie garden, learned how to make bread, and is now the proud owner of a pair of gum boots. These days she spends time Googling important questions such as how to cope with a runaway zucchini crop (make fritters), and narrowing down exactly what kind of giant hairy spider might be eyeballing her from the washing tub.
What inspired you to write your book?
I wanted to play with a role reversal, where a strong alpha male is forced to be subservient – or at least to pretend to be!
Here is a short sample from the book:
Ally stared out at the view. Thousands of lights twinkled, as though she had the whole city laid out at her feet. From so high up it felt like she could be queen of the world, that she could have everything she wanted, if only she’d reach out and take it.
She strode back to Max, stopping close enough for the warm scent of his cologne to envelop her. Close enough that she could put her hand on his broad chest if she wanted to. Or if she leaned forward, she could press her whole body against his. The thought sent tendrils of excitement through her that made her feel warm and tingly.
But… oh god, was she really going to do this? Pretending to be Cora was so intoxicating, she was in danger of losing herself in the role. And would it be so bad if she did? She stared down at the script, letting her hair drop forward to hide the fact that she was wavering between pulling back and letting herself go completely.
He touched her shoulder. “Ally?” It was just a brush of his fingertips on the fabric of her blouse, but it felt intimate, as though he’d caressed her bare skin. Thomas wouldn’t have touched Cora without permission. Instead of answering, she read her next line. A one-word command delivered by a woman who didn’t have any insecurity. A woman completely in control.
“Kneel.” It didn’t come out like she wanted so she barked the word again.
A spark flashed in his eyes. Was it defiance? Max’s dislike of being told what to do? He slowly lowered himself to his knees, but his gaze didn’t leave hers.