Georgia Le Carre lives in England, in an old 19th century romantic cottage surrounded by a magical garden filled with fruit and walnut trees.
When she is not feeding words into her laptop, she is either curled up in bed with a box of chocolates and a good read, or lost in a long walk in the woods. Especially on moonlit nights. And often with the man of her dreams.
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I was able to interview Georgia and this is what she shared with me:
What are you working on next and when can we expect it to be out?
Waiting in the wings is Besotted, the next installment of The Billionaire Series. It features a wedding and a secret. Yes, another one. Fingers crossed it will be out in May. Yay!!!!!!! I can't wait!
In what scenario do you do your best work?
When there is a deadline that ends tomorrow morning and it is tonight at 11.55pm. LOL! Gotta love procrastination!
Which books have been on your tbr shelf the longest?
Some tome on Persian history. It might yet spend a few more years on the tbr shelf, but it’s a forgiving book by a dead author. So no worries.
How likely are you to suffer from road rage?
Never. Life’s too short. People get too crazy when they climb into their boxes on wheels. Me, by all means cut me up. You might have a funeral to rush to.
What food can't you live without?
Now if you had asked me what drink…
What is your favorite color?
It used to be black because I was always trying to be all sophisticated and elegant, but now its soft hues, marshmallow pink, fudge, cream, toffee… you’d think I was answering your earlier question, wouldn’t you? It definitely sounds like you are hungry! :P
What is a trait, characteristic, feature, quality, attribute, idiosyncrasy, mannerism, peculiarity, or quirk that is unique to you? I like to butter a piece of bread, spread jam over the butter, stick a slice of cheese on it and, eat it. Ooookay, that is different!
What is your favorite t.v. show or celebrity?
I like the Homeland series. Even if it is a piece of propaganda, it is very intense and unpredictable and I like that in my entertainment.
How do you prefer to communicate (in person, texting, email, or phone)?
I am painfully shy. So email or phone, please.
What is your favorite beverage?
Now we’re talking…whiiisssskeeeey. LMAO! You are too funny!
If you were stranded on a deserted island, what three things would you want to have?
Assuming there is plenty of food and drink – a soft mattress with a never ending supply of fresh cotton sheets, a really good hair conditioner (the sun and sea tend to wreck havoc with hair) and a fridge full of ice-cream. I'm pretty sure that qualifies as more than three things but since it is just for fun, I'll forgive you! :D
What is the most un-useful gadget ever created?
TV – studies show that it actually rots the brain from the inside out!
How will you spend your Valentine’s Day?
Why with my delicious lover, of course. ;-) Of course!
Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions.:-)
No, no, THANK YOU for taking the time to ask these questions.
AN EROTIC ROMANCE
(18+ due to mature themes and sexual content)
Beyond the seductive power of immense wealth lies... Dark Secrets
One year ago Lana Bloom was the mistress of one of the richest, most powerful men alive. But she broke a rule. So, she did the only thing she could…she ran. Away from her incredible life, away from the only man she had ever loved.
But she should have known a man such as Blake Law Barrington was impossible to escape. Now, he is back in her life and determined that she should taste the depths of his pain.
Shocked at how rough the sex has become and humiliated that she is actually participating in the course of her own punishment she despairs if she will she ever feel the warmth of his touch, the solidity of his trust again.
And even if she can win his trust, loyalties are yet to be decided, and secrets to be revealed—secrets that will test them both to their limits.
Will Lana ever tear down the walls that surround Blake’s heart, and break him free of the brutal power of immense wealth? Will Blake hold on to Lana’s heart when she discovers the enormity of the dark secrets that inhabit the Barrington family?
Lana had always believed that love conquered all. She is about to test that belief.
‘Dishonest little Lana,’ he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. He runs his hands down the smoothness of my neck into the collar of my blouse.
I begin to tremble. He watches his own fingers slip a button out of its hole and then another. He spreads apart the joined material so my throat, chest and the lacy tops of my bra are exposed. His cold furious eyes return to mine. The breaths that escape my lips are suddenly shallow and quick. He smiles possessively. He knows the effect he has on me.
‘You were by far more when you squeezed into that little orange dress and your fuck-me shoes, and went looking for money. Look at you now; you’re flapping around inside a man’s jacket. Two hundred thousand and you don’t even buy yourself a nice suit.’
He tuts. ‘And this…’ He raises his hand to my hair. ‘This ugly bun. What were you thinking of?’ he asks softly, as he plucks the pins out of my hair and drops them on the blue carpet. Bit by bit my hair falls around my shoulders. Without moving his feet he reaches back to a box of tissues on the table. Takes one and starts wiping away my lipstick. Meticulously. From the outside in. He throws the stained tissue on the ground.
‘That’s better,’ he pronounces.
I stare wordlessly up at him. He looks as if he wants to devour me. All the time we have been apart is wiped away. It is like we have never been away from each other. This is the man I belong to heart and soul. Without him I have been an empty shell going through the motions.
‘Lick your lips,’ he orders.
‘What?’ I am horrified by the cold command, and yet electrified by the sexual heat his order arouses in me. My nerves scream.
His jaw hardens; his eyes are steely. ‘You heard me.’
The tension in his body communicates itself to me. It simmers between us. Desire ripples through me. My thighs clench tight with excitement and my heart flutters like a crazy thing. This is how he is in my recurring fantasies. Demanding, possessive, taking, raging with sexual need.
I lick my lips slowly.
He eyes the journey my tongue undertakes avidly. ‘That’s more like it. That’s the mercenary bitch I know.’
One moment he is standing there cold and insulting, and the next he has thrust a rough hand into my hair and pulled my head back. I gasp with shock, my eyes wide, his dark. Like a desert storm he descends on my parted mouth. There is no time even to pull one’s cloak about oneself. So sudden. So unexpected. He tastes wild, the way the first drops of rain in the desert taste. Full of minerals. Bringing life to all it touches.
He kisses me, as he has never done. Roughly, painfully, violently, purposely bruising my lips, his mouth so savage that I utter a strangled, soundless cry. The change, the extent of his anger, is impossible to comprehend. He is different. There is no longing. Only an intense desire to hurt and have his revenge. This is not the same man. My actions have unleashed something uncontrollable. Something that wants to hurt me. Alarm bells go off in my head. It occurs to my fevered brain that he is ravenous, starving. Then for some strange reason an image of him eating thin, almost transparent slices of cheese on biscuits flashes into my mind. How civilized he was. Then. Before I betrayed him.
I taste the fury in his kiss: blood.
And my mind screams—this is abuse. A moan gets caught in my throat, struggles vainly, and then escapes. My hands reach up to push him away, but my palms meet the stone wall of his chest, and as if with minds of their own, push aside the lapels of his jacket and grip his shirt. I know what once lived beneath the shirt and I want it. I have always wanted this man. As if my hands splayed across his chest have communicated my total submission, the kiss changes. His tongue gentles, but demands more surrender.
The fingers grasping my hair hurt my scalp. I feel the pain vaguely, but more than that I feel myself begin to drown in that vortex of sexual desire. The violent, throbbing need between my legs finds its way into my veins and flesh. Every cell in me wants him inside me. I am on fire. One year of waiting has made me hungry for him. I want him. I want him thrusting that enormous dick of his deep inside me. For a year I have dreamed of him inside me, filling me. I know how good he can make me feel. My body tries to burrow closer to him, but I cannot get closer; his grip on my hair is relentless. Desperately I push my hips towards him towards what I know will be delicious hardness.
As if that is some silent signal he puts me casually away from me. And I am thrust back in a shitty back office in Kilburn High Street. What the fuck am I doing? He casually props himself against the desk, folds his arms across his chest, and looks at me calmly.
I cannot return the insult. I am a mess. I stand there frustrated beyond belief, breathing hard, the blood pounding like an African drum in my head. My knickers are wet and between my legs I ache and pulse for him. With every weak and trembling part of me I want him to finish what he started. I want him so bad it is shocking. I clench my hands at my sides and try to get myself under control. I look at him, how cool and collected he is, as he watches me struggle to regain some measure of composure.
Then he smiles. Oh! Cocky. He shouldn’t have done that. I feel maddened by the taunting smile. How dare he? He just wanted to humiliate me.
And then I see it. Not so fast, Mr. Blake Law Barrington.
I take two steps forward, reach my hand out and put a finger on that madly beating pulse in his throat. It drums into my skin. The frantic beat is carried away by my blood up into my arm, my heart and into my brain. Years later I will remember this moment when we are connected by his beating pulse. We never break eye contact. His eyes darken. Now he knows that I know—my need may be obvious and easy to exploit, but he is not as unaffected as he pretends to be. He was testing his own limits of control, but it hasn’t been as easy as he expected.
‘Is it sex when I want to see you come apart?’ he asks bitterly.
A breath dies in my chest. I take my finger away from his throat. ‘What do you want, Blake?’
‘I want you to finish your contract.’
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Georgia kindly gave me an ARC! :D Thank you!
This was the second book in the Billionaire Banker series. You can see my review of book one here.
I liked the first one so very much that I couldn't wait to read this one. :-)
This book began where the last one left off. Lana broke the contract and Blake has decided to call her on it. He is just a touch angry. Grrrrrr!!!!
Both Lana and Blake are hiding secrets from the other. Some are far more sinister than I could have imagined. The plot really thickened.
Forty 2 Days was more edgy, suspenseful and dramatic than the first book. There was still romance and plenty of steamy scenes too. However, the focus seemed to have slightly shifted from the steam and romance to the underlying plots of these twisted billionaires and the games that they play with people's lives.
I was on the edge of my seat for much of the book, especially the end. I will be reading the next book for sure. Though I am half afraid to imagine what will happen next and I am not so sure that the old dog has performed his last trick so to speak.
If you like lots of steam, interesting characters, suspense, secrets, motives and surprising turns in the plot, you have to read this series. Don't even think of starting with this book. You must start at the beginning!!!
I received an ecopy from the author in exchange for my honest opinion. I thought it was gripping. I couldn't put it down. I liked the first one a tad more because I am a sucker for sappy stuff and there was more of that in book one but I thought this book was great too. I am a huge fan of this series! :-)