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About the author:
Nancy Deville is a novelist, memoirist, and best-selling author of numerous books on optimal health, weight loss, and anti-aging. Nancy has been a designer her entire life. She is the founder and director of Yoga for Incarcerated Women. She lives in Santa Monica with her whippet, Scarlett.
What inspired you to write your book?
My first novel, Karma is psychological thriller about sex trafficking, which is a very dark subject. Though it got great reviews and continues to sell, I wanted to write something really fun and light. I thought, okay, I’m going to write about what it’s like to be a women over the age of 60. Since we’re so marginalized and everyone thinks our lives are over, which is so not true. Life is different in many ways for sure once you hit fifty and sixty. But in many ways it’s improved. You have more clarity for sure. And one thing I was really clear about is that I didn’t want to create a protagonist who was decades younger than me. I really wanted to write something steamy and fun that my age group could relate to. Falling in love and having sex and all of the things that we do, but I still needed a story. More on http://beezeebooks.com/an-interview-with-nancy-deville-author-of-on-the-run-in-beverly-hills/custom-blog
Here is a short sample from the book:
Along with the baby face, Enrique had pillowy lips for a man, and she found herself staring at them, mesmerized. It happened so fast that she had no time to protest as he leaned to her and kissed one tear-swollen eye then the other with those angelic lips.
The sensation of his kisses flooded her being like an emotional elixir. She couldn’t explain it. She wasn’t thinking normally as she allowed him to gently push her against the garage wall. He kissed her mouth and she kissed him back with a hunger that surprised her.
He smiled as he pulled off her T-shirt, licking her breasts. “You taste like salt. You work like a laborer in Meh-he-co,” he murmured.
Her mind was as empty as if she had raced down to the beach, across the sand, and into the frigid ocean. She shook her head, trying to break loose any rational thoughts that would clarify what was happening. She had stopped dating men from Tinder, Bumble, and Millionaire Match since her finances went into the toilet and had not had any intimacy in over a year, since Quinn. She didn’t want to think about Quinn now. Enrique was a known entity, harmless, and no-strings-attached. He was like the salad she had delivered from Greens Up! on Main Street.
But she hadn’t called for a delivery.
As much as she wanted to be the old Olive, her razor-sharp mind was blunted. Her raw emotions, the unfamiliarity of vulnerability took her by storm.
“Why are you here, Enrique?”
“I want you, mi O. Can you not feel it?”