Title of Book: RIPTIDE
Author: Amber Lea
Easton
Author Website: http://amberleaeaston.com
Twitter URL:
@mtnmoxiegirl
Publisher:
Siren-Bookstrand
ISBN Number:
978-1-62241-791-9
Publication Date: August
2012
Genre of Book: Romantic
Suspense, Contemporary Mystery
Review provided by: World of Ink
Network
Heat Level: Steamy
About the Book:
One violent night shatters Lauren Biltmore’s life. As an
anchorwoman, she's accustomed to reporting the news rather than being the lead
story. She escapes the spotlight by fleeing to her brother's home in the Cayman
Islands. Haunted by nightmares, all she wants is a distraction from reality.
Distraction arrives via sexy screenwriter, Noah Reynolds. His
take-me-to-bed looks mask a past ripe with scandal. He knows he should stay away
from Lauren, especially when the worst night of her life unlocks his writer's
block and while he's dealing with a stalker of his own, but ethics are his
weakness.
Attraction sizzles beneath Caribbean sunshine. As their
relationship grows, Noah's stalker intensifies her torment. Lauren wonders if
her paranoia is justified or a carryover from her past. What's real? What's
imagined? Tentative trust is tested as their love is swept up against a riptide
of deceit, murder, and revenge.
EXCERPT (more suspenseful than
sexy):
Heart
thudding in her chest like steel drums, she jolted awake, and blinked at the
stars glaring at her from the open hole in the ceiling. She froze with fear,
every limb paralyzed, breathing labored. Someone watched her from the foot of
the bed. She could feel their gaze on her...on them.
Noah
slept next to her, completely unconscious judging by the steady rise and fall of
his chest and the weight of his arm over her abdomen.
Look.
It’s my imagination. No one’s there. I double-checked—no, triple-checked—all the
locks before bed.
Her
thoughts immediately went to the morning before...the blackout, the pictures,
the fear. She exhaled slowly and raised her head.
A woman
stood at the foot of the bed, hair hidden by a yellow scarf, face in shadow,
dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans. Real.
“Who are
you?” She bolted upright, eyes wide as the woman turned and ran from the room.
Pushing
Noah’s arm aside, she bolted from the bed. Anger replaced fear in an instant.
Unable to control the emotions raging through her bloodstream, she ran into the
living room. No one. She’d left all the lights on before going to the bedroom.
She turned in a circle, plastic from the still unfinished kitchen crunching
beneath her feet.
The deck
door remained closed and locked. Nothing appeared disturbed.
Heart
still slamming against her ribcage, she walked to the top of the stairs leading
down to the laundry room. She took one step...and then another...slowly...unable
to breathe until she reached the bottom. All the deadbolts remained locked.
No one
had left.
She
flattened her back against the wall and looked over her shoulder toward the top
of the stairs. If no one had left, then the woman had to still be inside.
Ali?
Alicia? Someone pretending? Questions rattled her mind as she ascended the
stairs with her back kept firmly against the wall. She wanted to call out to
Noah, but her voice lodged in her throat.
Once in
the living room, she again checked the lock on the sliding glass door before
staring down the hall toward the spare room she’d never entered. Fear battled
anger until she thought her head would explode from the pressure of the two
heated emotions.
As she
passed the bathroom, she flicked on the light to make sure it was empty inside.
It was. She pushed open the door to the spare room with her foot as she kept her
back pressed against the door.
Dark.
She slid into the room, her hand moving along the wall for a switch of some
kind.
Then she
heard footsteps behind her. Slow. Creeping.
“What’re
you doing?” Noah asked from where he stood in the open doorway.
He
flicked on the light, showing the room to be empty except for piles of boxes and
tools. She stared at the open window at the far side of the space.
Without
answering him, she walked over the mess and leaned out the window. Palm trees
swayed with the night wind. Shadows danced in the darkness, black on black. In a
moonless sky, stars fell toward the dark void where the ocean lay. .
“Lauren?
Are you sleepwalking or something?” Noah’s hand dropped against her shoulder.
The
truth of what she was seeing warred with the knowledge in her heart that someone
had been standing at the foot of the bed. The intruder could have escaped out
this window. It wasn’t a long drop for an athletic person.
I’m not
going crazy, I’m not. God, I hope I’m not.
She
shoved the window closed with more force than necessary and latched it. When she
finally faced Noah, she felt like someone dancing on the edge of a cliff in the
darkness, someone about to take a free fall into the abyss.
“I
didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, her voice husky with emotion.
“You
look terrified.” He smoothed her hair back from her face, his thumbs caressing
her cheekbones. “Did something happen that scared you?”
“You
look better.” She flattened her hands against his chest and forced a grin. “How
do you feel?”
“Hungry.” His grin reassured her
that all was well in the world. “Want an omelet?”
She
smiled and let her hands trail down his chest. Maybe she’d been dreaming, after
all. Yesterday had been more than a little stressful.
“I hear
you make the best omelets on the island—”
“In the
world, actually.” He winked. “World famous omelet.”
“World
famous, yes, of course, how could I resist?” She exhaled the nervous energy that
still zapped through her system and leaned into him. The man had a way about
him. There was no denying it.
“You
can’t resist me. I’m like a drug.” He glanced behind her toward the window she’d
forcefully closed. “Want to tell me why every light in the house is on and why
you’re in here closing windows at three a.m.?”
“Not
really.” She linked her hands behind his waist and looked up at him. “I like
being here with you in the middle of the night, think I’ll make it a
habit.”
He
squinted at her, obviously curious about the reason behind her madness. Again,
he glanced toward the window but said nothing.
Habit?
Had she actually said that word? There’s no way she could stay here again,
probably shouldn’t be here now, not when she was having blackouts, chatting it
up with creepy redheads and hallucinating women standing at the foot of the bed.
She’d successfully gone from one nightmare into the next and could no longer
distinguish reality from fantasy.
She
cringed when he looked away and turned off the light. She was such a liar, a
dirty, rotten liar. A hypocrite. A fraud. She needed to control herself and slow
this down before they both got in too deep.
BOOK TRAILER:
About the Author:
Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published fiction and nonfiction
author. For twenty years, she's worked in the fields of journalism and
advertising with a brief detour into the financial industry. Although she holds
a BA in Communications & Journalism, she is a perpetual student of life who
enjoys taking courses on a wide variety of subjects when time allows. Smart is
sexy, according to Easton, which is why she writes about strong female
characters who have their flaws and challenges, but who ultimately
persevere.
Easton currently lives with her two teenagers in the Colorado
Rocky Mountains where she gives thanks daily for the gorgeous view outside her
window. She finds inspiration from traveling, the people she meets, nature and
life’s twists and turns. At the end of the day, as long as she's writing, she
considers herself to be simply "a lucky lady liv'n the dream."
You can find out more about Amber Lea Easton, Riptide and her
World of Ink Author/Book Tour at http://tinyurl.com/a2azncg
Submitted by:
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