About the author:
Crystal Kaswell writes scorching hot new adult romances with flawed characters. When she isn’t writing, she’s watching Law and Order, drinking tea, or riding her bike nowhere in particular.
What inspired you to write your book?
Only, it’s got a lot more spanking and biting and a lot less killing than the original series 🙂
Here is a short sample from the book:
Those piercing eyes find mine. “You don’t know how I can help.”
His voice is low and deep and impossible to read.
I’d ask who the hell he thinks he is, but he’s a billionaire CEO. He knows exactly who he is.
“I’m not interested in your help,” I say. “You’ve done your good deed and checked on me. Let’s leave it at that.”
“That’s a fair assessment.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Glad you agree.”
“But we have something else to discuss.”
His hand closes around my wrist and a gentle buzz spreads through my body. I feel warm everywhere. Hot even.
I want him touching me. It’s shocking how much I want this stranger touching me. I want him ripping off this stupid blouse and these black jeans and touching me everywhere.
Deep breath. He’s a hot guy. That’s it. I won’t let him drive me out of my mind.
“What is that?” I ask.
He leans back in the chair. “You were interviewing for a job the other day.”
That grabs my attention. I shake my head to rid it of illicit thoughts and motion to him be quiet. Managers aren’t too fond of their employees looking for better jobs.
He nods. “Is this a profession you enjoy–waiting tables?”
eyes. This guy must come from money. Only way he’d ask a question like that.
I take a deep breath to calm down. “We can’t all be tech CEOs.”
Blake has no reaction to that.
He leans a little closer, those piercing eyes on mine. “You’re a very beautiful girl.”
There’s a flutter in my stomach. Then somewhere below it. “Thank you.”
“I bet you clean up very well.”
“Excuse me?” My work outfit isn’t the paragon of sexy, but still. He seemed so well-mannered.
“I have a proposition for you. It’s unorthodox.”
I bite my tongue. Can’t yell at customers. “I’m not a whore.”
“I wouldn’t be paying you for sex.”
All intentions of whispering go out the window. I get loud. “What–you’d pay for the time and we’d happen to have sex? I know how this kind of thing goes. I wasn’t born yesterday.” I push my chair back and jump to my feet.
Blake takes a slow sip of his whiskey and motions for me to sit. “No. It’s a job.”
I dig my hands into my thighs and take a step away from the table. “Whatever you want, I’m not interested.”
“Kat Wilder,” he says.
“So you know my last name–so what?”
“Your parents died three years ago. You live with your sister in an apartment in Brooklyn. There should be about ten years on the mortgage. And since you’re working here, I’m guessing you didn’t inherent all that much.”
“What’s your point?” I snap.
“There’s no way you can afford to support yourself on your salary here. You sister is eighteen-”
“Don’t fucking talk about my sister.”
“Okay. Let’s leave her out of this.”
Again, he motions for me to sit. I do.
Blake speaks in a calm, even voice. “You’re twenty-one. No college education. No safety net. You need money, and you don’t have many options.”
“It would be a difficult job, but nothing you can’t do.”
“I’m not a whore.”
“I wouldn’t pay for sex. That would be because you want me.” He brushes his hand against the inside of my knee.
My breath catches in my throat. “No, I…”
“It wasn’t a question.” He leans closer. “I want you, too.”
“But…” My heart thuds. That flutter is in full affect. It’s ridiculous. I don’t even know the guy but the thought of him wanting me… I’m on fire.
“You’d be playing a part. My loving girlfriend. All of that would be fake. The two of us, alone together, that would be real.”
“I don’t know how to be a pretend girlfriend.” I wipe my palms on my jeans. “I don’t even know how to be a real girlfriend.”
He stares at me, studying me. “You’re perfect. I’m willing to negotiate if you’re interested.”
“No, I couldn’t.” I break away from his gaze but I’m still hot all over. Stand up. Step back. Like I’m almost done with work.
“Take a few days. Consider it.”
I shake my head. It’s ridiculous. Absurd even. Blake Sterling, super-hot billionaire CEO, can get any girl he wants. He doesn’t need to pay someone to be his pretend girlfriend.