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About the author:
Katherine Hawthorne loves sexy alpha males and books that come with warnings, which is exactly what she writes. Throwing out the last vestiges of her oh-so-proper Ivy League education, she traded tedious academic writing, combined her favorite genres, and found her greatest joy in writing romantic suspense.
When Katherine isn’t writing, you can find her racing down the ski slopes in the winter and relaxing on the beach in the summer, most likely lost in a book. Married with four children, three of which still live at home, life is a never-ending crazy thrill ride, one she quite happily embraces.
What inspired you to write your book?
I have been an avid reader and writer my entire life. I wrote my first novel nearly twenty years ago but never did anything with it. About three years ago, I began thinking about that book I had still sitting in the bottom of my nightstand and finally dusted it off. Yes, I had to re-write the entire thing as some of it was cringe-worthy. But I did it and Deception was born! While I was writing Betrayal, the sequel, I felt the books would make the best MFM romance, which led me to the Sinful Surrender Quartet, which I have just recently completed. It has been a wild and crazy ride but I am so excited to finally be living my dream!
Here is a short sample from the book:
“Thank you for making sure we got home safely,” I said without turning from the windows, staring unseeing at thousands of lights, so close to losing my battle against my grief, holding it in until he left. But he didn’t leave, instead he came up behind me, standing so close I swore I could feel the heat from his body. From the bedrooms, I heard the shower start, heard Sofia’s bathroom door close as my heart pounded.
I wasn’t sure which shocked me more, Sinclaire’s use of my name for the first time ever, the softness in his voice, or the electricity that shot through me when his hands rested on my shoulders, gently turning me around.
Sucking in a breath, I tried to back up, but his grip only tightened. We’d never touched. Ever. Not since our handshake across his desk six months ago when we’d met for the first time.
Of all the squads to end up in, why had it been his? Alex Sinclaire, my first girlhood crush. For a minute anyway. And I would have sworn I was long over it. He hadn’t seemed to recognize me, but of course, why would he? One glimpse across a crowded ballroom all those years ago…
All that aside, I knew I was lucky to be where I was. Midtown South was one of the hardest precincts to get into, usually needing connections. Or one hell of a record, which I had. The precinct only brought in the best and the brightest. After breaking the case on a major drug trafficking ring while working with detectives, I had catapulted my career, rising to the rank of detective after just being on the force for a little over a year. Nearly unheard of, but I’d helped solve two other cases in a short amount of time.
“I’m okay, Lieutenant. You should go,” I whispered to a spot on his chest because I couldn’t force myself to meet his eyes. Didn’t want to see what was there. Or what wasn’t there. I was too vulnerable tonight, all the fight in me already spent.
“I know,” he whispered back, but made no move to leave. Instead he cupped my cheek with one hand, lifting my face to his. Like a child, I lowered my lashes, refusing to look at him. But the feel of a wet washcloth on my face came as a shock, my eyes flying open. Only to see desire in his before he masked it, sending jolts of heat through me that I couldn’t hide.
I sucked in another breath, trying to still the trembling in my body.
That’s what Sofia had called him all those years ago. What the women around the precinct called him, the aptness of the name so very apparent in this moment. He looked like sin. Black hair, piercing blue eyes and a strong, powerful body. Six foot two, every ounce of his hard body muscle. He moved with a predator’s stealth, exuding sex appeal that evoked dreams of long, decadently sinful nights.
Surrounded by him, his seductive scent filled my head. Leather and cologne mixed with something so erotically dark that had my heart beating faster. Fighting to breathe, fighting for control, I repeated over and over that he was my lieutenant. My superior officer. My commanding officer. Which should have had my blood running cold. And then I reminded myself I was in Sofia’s apartment. She could walk out any minute.
But when he slid his hand up my cheek and into my hair, I was rendered paralyzed. He closed the small distance between us, his body brushing against mine and I thought I might explode on the spot, before he ever touched me.
“Where else are you hurt?” he whispered.
Was his voice rougher than before? “Nowhere.”
But I knew my breathless response gave away the lie. I ached everywhere. Ached in places I had no business aching.
“Belle.” His warning heated my core, soaking my panties. Closing my eyes again, I tried to shake my head no, but he moved his other hand to my cheek before sinking it into my hair, tightening…tightening until I had no choice but to lift my head. It was all I could do to keep breathing. Desire and yearning filled those beautiful blue eyes, so much need it took my breath away.
I moved my hands to his chest, not knowing until they landed whether I would shove him away or pull him closer. And then he groaned, the wholly masculine sound filled with so much heat, so much need, shocking me straight through my core a second before his lips were on mine, his tongue running across the seam, demanding entry.
“Let me in, Belle,” he growled. “Open for me. Now.”
Oh, God. The command in his voice undid me. I didn’t deny him, couldn’t deny him. And holy hell, the instant his tongue met mine, I was ready to explode. Instantly out of control, his growl of approval sent shivers through my entire body, my uninhibited whimper fueling the fire.
He moved his hands down, grabbing my hips, lifting until I could wrap my legs around his waist, the hard steel of his arousal pressing where I needed him most. Sliding my hands up his chest, I wrapped them around his neck, threading my fingers into his thick hair, gripping it just as tightly as he gripped mine.
He backed me into the glass, his erection sliding against my core and I nearly screamed with pleasure, never wanting it to end, his tongue still dancing with mine, needing him more than I needed to breathe. My hips moved of their own volition, sliding up him one more time.
“Fuck,” he groaned as he tore his mouth away, kissing his way down my neck. Nipping, licking, until I was ready to beg.
And then I was freefalling, the movement so fast it made my head spin. He settled me on my feet, holding my hips to steady me. Way too far away from his body. His breathing was just as heavy as my own, his erection obvious as I fought through the fog of desire, shocked back to reality even as my arousal still intensified.
I didn’t want to hear the rejection, didn’t want to hear an apology. Or that it had been a mistake, even though I knew it was. A big mistake.
A career ending mistake.
“Don’t,” I said, the strength in my voice a surprise I hadn’t expected.
He opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he could say anything. “Just go.”
His grip tightened slightly before he released me.
And a moment later he was gone.