FATAL OBSESSION by Christina OW
Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com email@example.com
Genre: Fiction, General, African American, Mystery & Detective, Romance
Release Date: April 2, 2015
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-102-9 ISBN 10:1631121022
PRINT ISNB 13: 978-1-63112-103-6 ISBN 10:1631121030
Purchase link : http://www.5princebooks.com/buy-links.html
She finds out her nightmares are actually memories of her past life… the life of a murderer. Could she truly be the deranged Ellsa Jabari who’d almost added her own sister Ellie to the list of people she’s killed? Amnesia can be a real bitch!
Bio for Christina OW:
I’m the last of my mom’s three girls and I’m also a twin (she is an author too). It’s a lot of fun playing tricks on people with my twin sister. We did so a lot when we were younger but not so much now. We were raised by my mother and we owe her so much and try to make her proud every single day.
I would rather curl up on the couch with a book than go out which also means I’m not into the night life. My pajamas are my best friend because they are so comfortable and only dress up when I go out if there is a good chance I’ll meet a hot guy!
Author Contact Info:
Facebook: Christina OW
Excerpt from Fatal Obsession:
Chapter One Summer 2006
Damien Chan pulled his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose to give his eyes a clear view of the beauty that had just crossed in front of him on the other side of the pool. He hadn’t expected—well it was Miami and seeing beauties pool side was the norm of each day, but this one... there was something special about this one. He could tell by the way she walked in her six inch strapped sandals that exposed perfectly pedicured toes and sturdy ankles. There had to be a secret to balancing in those neck breaking heels and look so mouth watering doing so. He never understood why women tortured themselves trying to look taller, but he gained a whole new appreciation for the neck breakers. His eyes travelled up from the silver charm anklet that sat seductively around her ankle, to her caramel stiff shaped calf that spoke of how fit she was.
Damien loved a woman who kept fit. Nothing jiggled and she had a combination of tight and soft in all the right places.
His eyes journeyed up to her thighs—Damien smiled to himself—toned and jiggle free. Just the way he liked them wrapped around his waist.
Her thighs rounded up into a perfect ass partially exposed by the white swimsuit she had on, but tastefully covered by the see through thigh high robe that rode slapdash on her shoulders. The bottom of her swimsuit had golden circular hoops at both sides of her waist bone, clearly the only things holding the bottom pieces together. Very Victoria Secret like.
Damien shifted uncomfortably on his lounge chair. The bottom half of her had him so hard already he had to raise his knee to hide the evidence.
She turned around, giving him a back view of her body. He wished she would--
“Yes!” he whispered with a discreet air punch.
The flimsy robe slide down her arms so fluidly, like a gentle caress and pulled at her waist before she tagged it completely off and tossed it on the lounge chair. Damien had never felt so jealous of a piece of clothing before. What he would give to be that robe!
Her back was exposed, except for the thin straps that tied behind her neck and across her back to hold up the swimsuit. She had what looked like a delicate back, the outlines of her shoulder blades were visible and so was the hollow deep between that led to the round curve of the small of her back to the top of her ass. She had what looked like a tattoo there, but her dark complexion and the distance made it impossible to tell.
“Holy…” Damien breathed when she turned around.
It was official. He’d just spotted the sexiest woman in the world. Someone call the Guinness records guys! Such perfection should not go undocumented. Every male species needed to see her, for generations to come!
The top part of her suit tapered up to what looked like a three inch piece that sat along her belly up to meet the bikini top part of the suit. Those two girls were also tastefully hidden, with just the right amount of boobs slipping out. He could already imagine pressing his face between those babies.
He moved up to her visible collar bones, to her long swan-like neck, up her chin, slightly smiling lush red lips, button nose and—
She’d caught him staring and now she was staring back with a certain glint in her eyes as she lowered herself onto the lounge chair. He held her gaze and for a moment, Damien thought she was challenging him. Did she think he wouldn’t hit on her because she’d caught him staring? Or was she challenging him to do so, so that she could shut him down, publicly humiliating him?
Damien clenched his jaw as his temper flared. He hated conceited chicks who thought their obvious beauty made them better than everyone and any guy would be lucky to be seen with them. He’d made that mistake of dating a girl like her once; he was certainly not going to make it again.
He’d come here to enjoy himself and plough through as many women as he could to get over his stupid broken heart. And as much as he wanted her to be his big finale—because she would be the perfect lay for the last day of his two-week vacation—being a conceited bitch disqualified her.
He broke their gaze and turned away just in time to see a big white bald oaf charge at her. It was clear he was after her—his gaze was locked on her and his powerful heavy strides spoke trouble. Victoria Secret was the only one who looked worth the trouble in the whole place. Damien turned back to her. She was still staring at him, not at all sensing the danger. How could she not? Everyone else on her side of the pool seemed to have created a cautionary distance.
The oaf stopped next to her, grabbing her arm and yanking her up. “Vladimir vants you now!” he barked.
The woman just gave him a bored look, nonchalantly taking her arm out of his hold. She bent to retrieve her robe, sparing Damien a look that said something, but he wasn’t sure what before she sashayed away, walking with no urgency despite the oaf’s grumbles behind her.
What was that look? He wondered before he asked himself why he cared.
She seemed quite comfortable being the girlfriend of a Russian mobster. Another assumption, yes, but he’d been a cop too long not to be able to recognize the type.
His cop instincts wanted him to check them out but… “I’m on vacation. I’m not here to work or end up in a shootout over a girl. They are the feds problem anyway.”
He pushed his glasses back in place, crossed his wrists behind his head and went back on the hunt to find his finale girl.
Leave a Reply.