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About the author:
Originally from Kansas,Sara Vinduska is a romantic suspense author and aspiring farmer in North Idaho. Her other passions include yoga, soap making, good red wine, and K-State football.
What inspired you to write your book?
The original concept started as a dream and grew from there.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Lora got in her car and followed Trent’s truck to his apartment, wondering what in the hell she was doing. But she didn’t turn around. Trent Barlow fascinated and intrigued her like no one she’d ever met. And her body’s response to him compelled her to find out where this would lead.
It was amazing for her to see who Trent really was. She’d spent countless hours studying his file, learning about his life and habits, hearing stories about him from his brother, then she’d seen what was left of him after his weeks of torture. Now she was getting to watch him rebuild himself into someone better, stronger, than he was before. Maybe even playing a small part in the transformation. The surprising thought caused a foreign surge of warmth to spread through her chest.
She parked in the spot next to his truck. They didn’t speak as he took her hand and guided her towards the dark apartment. Inside, he led her down a short hallway to his bedroom and flipped on a lamp. Warm, dim light filled the room.
Lora looked around the room as he watched her. There wasn’t a lot to look at, the double bed was unmade, a dark blue bedspread lay rumpled at the foot end. A small table sat next to the bed, a matching dresser and a picture of the earth adorned the opposite wall. Her eyes dropped back to the tangled sheets where he’d slept. The indescribable masculine scent that was his alone surrounded her. She turned back to face him and felt her breath catch.
The way he looked at her, the dark intensity of his gaze, he was finally allowing her to see all of him – the good and the bad. His trust in her nearly broke her heart. She had to get out of there, get away from him. He was giving her something she couldn’t give him. He was giving her exactly what she’d wanted from him and it scared the hell out of her.
She stared at the face of the man she’d known as a victim, a case, a survivor, a picture in a file, a patient. A lover? She wanted to kiss him, very badly, ached with the need. She licked her lips, as her desire for him intensified. The feelings and emotions flooding her mind and body where overwhelming. “I should go,” she said, forcing herself to take a step towards the door on shaky legs.
“Wait.” He took her hand, pulled her down onto the bed with him. They sat, facing each other, in silence.