Blurb
Coral Sinclair is a beautiful but naïve
twenty-five-year-old photographer who has just lost her father. She's leaving
the life she's known and traveling to Kenya to take ownership of her
inheritance – the plantation that was her childhood home – Mpingo. On the
voyage from England, Coral meets an enigmatic stranger to whom she has a
mystifying attraction. She sees him again days later on the beach near Mpingo,
but Coral's childhood nanny tells her the man is not to be trusted. It is
rumored that Rafe de Monfort, owner of a neighboring plantation and a
nightclub, is a notorious womanizer having an affair with her stepmother, which
may have contributed to her father's death.
Circumstance confirms Coral's worst
suspicions, but when Rafe's life is in danger she is driven to make peace. A
tentative romance blossoms amidst a meddling ex-fiancé, a jealous stepmother, a
car accident, and the dangerous wilderness of Africa. Is Rafe just toying with
a young woman's affections? Is the notorious womanizer only after Coral's
inheritance? Or does Rafe's troubled past color his every move, making him more
vulnerable than Coral could ever imagine?
Excerpt
Though the afternoon sunshine was beginning
to fade, the air was still hot and heavy. Coral was struck by the awesome silence
that surrounded them. Not a bird in sight, no shuffle in the undergrowth, even
the insects were elusive. They climbed a little way up the escarpment over the
plateau and found a spot that dominated the view of the whole glade. Rafe
spread out the blanket under an acacia tree. They ate some chicken sandwiches
and eggs and polished off the bottle of cordial. They chatted casually, like
old friends, about unimportant mundane things, as though they were both trying
to ward off the real issue, to stifle the burning embers that were smoldering
dangerously in both their minds and their bodies.
All the while, Coral had been aware of the
need blossoming inside her, clouding all reason with desire. She could tell
that he was fighting his own battle. Why was he holding back? Was he waiting
for her to make the first move? Rafe was lying on his side, propped up on his
elbow, his head leaning on his hand, watching her through his long black
lashes. The rhythm of his breathing was slightly faster, and she could detect a
little pulse beating in the middle of his temple, both a suggestion of the
turmoil inside him. Rafe put out a hand to touch her but seemed to change his
mind and drew it away. Coral stared back at him, her eyes dark with yearning,
searching his face.
The shutters came down. “Don’t, Coral,”
Rafe whispered, “don’t tease. There’s a limit to the amount of resistance a man
has.”
“But Rafe…”
A flash of long blue lightning split the
sky, closely followed by a crash of thunder. Coral instinctively threw herself
into Rafe’s arms, hiding her face against his broad chest. She had always had a
strong phobia of thunderstorms. Now she knew why the place had seemed eerie,
why there had been no bird song or insect tick-tocks, no scuffling and ruffling
in the undergrowth. Even though the skies when they entered the valley had not
foretold the electrical storm that was to come, just like with the animals, her
instinct had told her that something was wrong. But she had been too distracted
by the turbulence crackling between her and Rafe to pay attention to the
changing sky.
Rafe, too, was shaken out of his daze and
turned his head to see that the sun had dropped behind the mountain. Dense
clouds had swept into the valley and were hanging overhead like a black mantle.
“Where did that come from? No storm was
forecast for today?” he muttered, jumping up.
There was another tremendous peal of
thunder, lightning lit up the whole glade, and again another crash. Then the
heavy drops of rain came hammering down against the treetops, pouring down
through the foliage.
A wind was starting up. Without hesitation,
Rafe folded the blanket into a small bundle and tucked it under his arm. He
slung the hamper over his shoulder, and lifting Coral into his arms, he climbed
his way up to the next level of the escarpment where a ledge of rock was
jutting out and found the entrance to a cave where they could shelter. Coral
was shivering. She tucked her face into his shoulder, her fingers tightly
gripping his shirt. She was completely inert, paralyzed by fear. They were both
drenched.
There was no way they would be able to get
back to Narok tonight. Coral knew from her childhood that storms were always
long in this part of the country, and through her panic she prayed that he
wouldn’t be piloting that little plane back in this howling gale. At least here
they were protected from the storm. It was not yet completely dark. Rafe looked
around, still holding her tightly against him. Coral couldn’t herself as she
sobbed uncontrollably.
“Shush, it’s all right,” he whispered
softly in her ear. “It’s only a storm. By tomorrow morning it’ll all be over.”
He brushed her tears away as more fell. “I’m going to have to set you down for
a moment, Coral. I need to light us a fire and get you out of those wet
clothes.”
What others are saying....
First class – beautifully written with an
intriguing premise and interesting characters.– Romancing the Book
Hot, sultry, breathtakingly beautiful and
entirely unpredictable… I think the end analysis of a good read is whether
it lingers, and this one certainly did. – A Bookish Libraria
It warmed every corner of my heart. –
Cocktails and Books
Hannah Fielding created a backdrop for this
story that held me spellbound. – Unwrapping Romance
An epic romance like Hollywood used to
make… – Peterborough Evening Telegraph
A truly compelling and romantic tale that
you won’t want to put down. – Go City Girl
The kind of romance that makes you sigh
dreamily… – Bookish Temptations
Meet Hannah Fielding
Hannah Fielding is a novelist, a dreamer, a
traveller, a mother, a wife and an incurable romantic. The seeds for her
writing career were sown in early childhood, spent in Egypt, when she came to
an agreement with her governess Zula: for each fairy story Zula told, Hannah
would invent and relate one of her own. Years later – following a degree in
French literature, several years of travelling in Europe, falling in love with
an Englishman, the arrival of two beautiful children and a career in property
development – Hannah decided after so many years of yearning to write that the
time was now. Today, she lives the dream: she writes full time, splitting her
time between her homes in Kent, England, and the South of France, where she
dreams up romances overlooking breathtaking views of the Mediterranean.
Her first novel, Burning Embers, is a
vivid, evocative love story set against the backdrop of tempestuous and wild
Kenya of the 1970s, reviewed by one newspaper as ‘romance like Hollywood used
to make’. Her new novel, The Echoes of Love, is a story of passion, betrayal and
intrigue set in the romantic and mysterious city of Venice and the beautiful
landscape of Tuscany.
Social
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Website: www.hannahfielding.net
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/fieldinghannah
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/fieldinghannah
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5333898.Hannah_Fielding
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/fieldinghannah
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/fieldinghannah
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5333898.Hannah_Fielding
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