Author name: Cheryl B. Dale
Book Title: SET UP
Publisher: MuseItUp Publishing
Buy link: http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=321&category_id=190&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1
Facebook (If you want to share): www.facebook.com/CBDale.author
Please tell us about yourself with the following favorites:
Drink (non-alcoholic)? Iced tea
Flower? Rose or gardenia
Day of the week? Friday
Time of day to write? Morning
Place to write? Bedroom corner
Animal? I have to say cats. Mine are watching.
Song? So many songs and so little time. I love all kinds of music.
Movie? The last one I saw in the theater was The Hunger Games.
Book? Too many to cull down to one.
Author? From Daphne du Maurier to Brunonia Barry, from Agatha Christie to Tim Dorsey. And lots inbetween.
Quote? Don’t know who said it but it goes something like this: There are two kinds of problems. One kind you can do something about. The other you can’t. So worry about the kind you can fix and put the rest on the NMP (not my problem) stack.
Now some easy one-word answers:
Coffee or tea? Tea
Veggies or fruit? Fruit
Cat or dog? Cat – but only because my cats are monitoring me as I type.
Plot or not? The story’s loosely worked out in my head before I start writing so I guess I do plot, just not a formal outline/synopsis.
Desktop or laptop? Desktop
Pencil or pen? Pen
Rain or sun? Rain
Mountains or ocean? Undecided.
Plane or train? Train
Car or motorcycle? Car
Run or walk? Walk
Casual or dressy? Casual
Indoors or outdoors? Indoors mostly. But sometimes I have to get outside.
Reading: EBook or paperback? Ebook
Reading: Short story or novels? Novels
Theater or rental? Rental
Vampire or shifter? Neither.
Horror or romance? Romance but preferably with suspense or mystery.
Tell us about your new/latest release:
Title: SET UP
Genre: Romantic mystery
Three divorces should teach a man something, but hotel heir Cal McIntyre can't figure out what. Then a flashy redhead – the kind he adores – shows up. Since he's off women, he reluctantly takes a bet to seduce her. One more hook-up won't matter. Especially with this temptress.
But Amanda’s hair is dyed and she’s not about to be seduced. Her younger sister gambled with an heirloom engagement ring, and Cal won. If Amanda has to drug him to retrieve the ring and save her sister's marriage, so be it.
She doesn't count on Cal's kisses awakening a long-banished sexuality. Lucky for her, he passes out before she gets carried away. She escapes with the ring and virtue intact. Now to forget him.
But Cal tracks her down. And tells her he bought the ring. From her sister. Worse, someone stole diamonds worth millions after she knocked him out. Cal wasn’t the only one set up.
There must be an explanation, but her sister can't give it; she's vanished. Now Amanda must help Cal find her sister or go to jail. She's determined to protect her sister, and he's determined to recover his diamonds. Sparks are about to fly.
“I couldn't possibly have looked anywhere else. I was too busy watching you.” Uninvited, he sat down beside her. “You're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
The same old words he always said. He always meant them, too.
“You must not know many women, then. Go away.” Red-tipped fingers tightened around a beaded evening bag. The diamonds at her throat – not very good ones, though the lighting might have accounted for the off-tint – couldn’t hide the rapid pulse beating in one of the tiny hollows. Brows were delicate arches nearly hidden by red curls falling over her forehead. A dignified nose showed off a short upper lip that peaked delectably.
Made for kisses.
A pink tongue licked the peak. “I hate ugly scenes so I don't want to call an usher to throw you out. I don't know you, and I don't want to talk to you.”
Strange. Oranges were common, but on her their fragrance was intoxicating. “No, you don't know me, but if I leave, how'll we ever get to know each other? You'll enjoy talking to me. I promise.”
Her complexion was the unblemished cream redheads sometimes possess. Her eyes, accentuated by green eyeshadow and fake fringes half an inch long, were large and emerald and abnormally bright.
Contact lenses, probably. Near?sighted with astigmatism? Maybe dull intellectually and ordinary conversationally, but irresistible physically. Packaged just the way he liked.
Cal moved closer. “I'll tell you who I am, and you tell me who you are. Then we can sit and talk. I'm Cal McIntyre. And you're...?”
The corners of her mouth tried to curve upward. After a full five seconds, she giggled. Not a titter, a breathy gurgle. “I'm astonished.”
“Hello, Astonished. How quaint. Is that an old family name?" He held out his hand. "How do you do?”
Ignoring his hand and execrable humor, she looked around for help. “I'll do much better when you're gone.”
Good. Not a hint of annoyance or impatience. The sweet thing was curious.
“I'll leave but not until you tell me your name. Come on, fair's fair. I told you mine.”
“You’ve got a lot of gall. I’m calling someone to get rid of you.” The infectious grin wouldn’t be restrained, belying her words.
“Oh, I’ll leave. I promise. If you tell me your name. Please. If you don't, I'll be up all night wondering. And how can I ask you to dinner if I don't know what to call you?”
“I wouldn't go to dinner with you. I wouldn't walk out of the theater with you. I don't like men who stare at a woman all evening and then burst in on her private box uninvited.”
Said in the friendliest way imaginable.
Oh, yes, the lady was definitely interested.
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