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About the author:
Award winning author, Zoe Forward is a hopeless romantic who can’t decide between paranormal and contemporary romance. So, she writes both. Her novels have won numerous awards including the Prism, Readers’ Choice Heart of Excellence, Golden Quill, Carolyn Readers Choice Award, and the Booksellers’ Best Award.
When she’s not typing at her laptop, she’s cheering her son on at baseball, chasing after the toddler or cleaning up the newest pet mess from the menagerie that occupies her house. She’s a board-certified veterinarian. You can ask her about your pet’s problem, but be warned she’s into integrative medicine so her answer might involve treatments you’ve never heard of.
She’s madly in love with her globe trotting conservation ecologist husband and she’s happiest when he returns to their home base.
What inspired you to write your book?
With a love for the Scarlet Pimpernel I wanted to see what I could do with a person who rescued within the vampire/werewolf world when they're at war…and it's a she.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“What just happened?” His voice, so raw and confused. He wasn’t repelled by the almost-kiss?
She felt out of control, unsure what her body was going to demand she do next, what she might say. She felt like she was tumbling down a hill with no end in sight, leaving a constricting feeling in her chest, making it harder and harder to breathe.
On the edge of losing it, she muttered, “Nothing. Has to be nothing. Right?”
Hating every second that ticked by without him replying, breath caught in her throat, she tried to concentrate on leaving and on getting him in motion to go downstairs, but she couldn’t move. Her heart thrashed her rib cage to the point of pain. She needed him to commit to an agreement to forget about whatever happened minutes ago so she could safely move him into the off-limits and not-interested category. Or…no, there couldn’t be any sort of “or” scenario.
He took a deep breath and stepped toward her.
Her body went haywire. Her limbs felt numb when his fingers brushed against her cheek, the touch gentle.
He whispered hoarsely, “I don’t know what the hell you’ve done to me, but…I hate doing the right thing sometimes.”
He pivoted and left.