I would like to thank Bianca for inviting me to be a guest on your blog. Great to be here! Any chance of us going horseback riding on those wild beauties? Me and stallions go way back. Nothing like a free spirited horse in the wild blue yonder! Other than horses, I love reading and writing, and I love a hot and steamy suspense. Here’s a little teaser from my latest. Enjoy!
Charade of Hearts is a romantic suspense set in tropical Hawaii. It is one of the mysteries in the Jewel of the Night series for the crimson line of The Wild Rose Press. This book features Oliver, the sexy cyber butler on my blog.
Here’s a teaser.
While scuba diving off the coast of Diamond Head with her diving partner on a quest to find a family heirloom, underwater photographer Dominique St. John witnesses his brutal murder and photographs it, ensnaring her in a deadly jewel ring. And when the investigating officer turns out to be her partner’s identical twin, a man she knew nothing about, her life becomes a Charade of Hearts.
Welcome to the world of greed, intrigue, deception and murder. And at its core is a blue diamond worth millions.
As honest as his twin was corrupt, Honolulu Homicide Detective Oliver Carvalho must convince Dominique that her diving partner and best friend was a crook. In a race against time, Oliver must rescue Dominique from a ruthless killer. But his biggest challenge proves to be mending a broken heart torn by betrayal that can only be redeemed by love.
With an abrupt bang, the line went dead. Dominique sat staring at the phone cord dangling in mid air, polarized. She felt the tremor from deep in her gut, rising high in her chest and through her throat. Her mouth was wide open but nothing came out. But when she heard a sharp wrap at the door, she erupted like a quaking volcano and let loose with a piercing wail that rattled the chandelier.
“Dominique, open up. It’s the police, Detective Oliver Carvalho. Let me in.”
Racing to the door, hands trembling as her fingers fumbled to undo the dead bolt, she flung the door open and thrust herself in the detective’s arms. Her voice came out in jumbled fragments. “He…the attacker…” she jabbed her forefinger over her shoulder toward the bedroom phone where the receiver dangled. “Said he’d call back…twenty four hours. Wants them, diamond and camera. Feed me to the sharks if I call the cops.” Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face and onto Oliver’s shirt collar. “He knows my name…saw me take pictures…he’s…”
“Easy,” Oliver’s muscular arms draped around her waist. Then he walked her backward to the bedroom, giving her a gentle shove onto the bed. Then he snatched up the receiver from the rug, clapped it to his ear. Lips puckered, he slammed it back into the cradle and stared at her.
His fiery gaze was scorching hot. A slow heat burned in her belly as his eyes rake her long, slender neck, stopping to linger on her exposed cleavage. Then lower still to her bare legs where the cherry red silk robe rode high on her upper thighs. Then that penetrating gaze seared into hers. His words came out, laced with enough heat to have her quaking at full throttle.
“Tell me what he said, word for word.”
Dominique licked her lips, reached for her cocktail. The ice cubes had melted and beads of moisture had seeped onto the teakwood night stand. She took a sip. “He told me he knew I had the diamond and he knew I took pictures. He said I had twenty-four hours to hand them over, that he’d be in touch. He said no cops…or…” her voice broke off, lips quivering. “He threatened to feed me to the sharks, said they were hungry. He said Roberto, he called him lover boy, just wet their appetite for dessert.”
The detective nodded, prodding her to go on. “What else?”
“Nothing, the line went dead. Then you knocked at the door. I thought it was him, the caller. I thought he came to…”
Detective Carvalho waved off what she was about to say. “I went to the Honolulu Clinic this morning because I had more questions. They informed me you’d been discharged and had been transported by taxi to this hotel.”
Dominique stared at the detective, mute. His eyes were identical to Roberto’s. It was disarming. How could she possibly accept the fact this man standing less than a foot away from her with desire burning in his eyes wasn’t Roberto? She couldn’t. Her mind refused to accept it. She had to send the signal to her brain because her heart sure wasn’t getting the message. But when his scorching gaze raked her body, evoking feelings in her Roberto never had, her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to reach for him, coil herself in his strong embrace, feel his heart beat with hers. And she wanted him to rip off her sexy lingerie and devour every inch of her body. She bit her lip, mortified. How could she be thinking about sex at a time like this? And why was Roberto’s twin brother stirring her blood to liquid heat with his burning gaze? Not once had Roberto evoked such feelings in her. She reached for her drink with such swiftness, she felt her silky lingerie slither past her shoulder and down her arm. And then
Charade of Hearts
Sharon Donovan lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with her family. Prior to the loss of her vision, she was a legal secretary for the Court of Common Pleas where she prepared cases for judges in Domestic Relations. Painting was her passion. When she could no longer paint, she began attending creative writing classes and memoir workshops. After a long and winding road, a new dream arose. Today, instead of painting her pictures on canvas, Sharon paints her pictures with words.
Sharon writes stories of inspiration and suspense. She has certificates in business and medical transcription. Echo of a Raven, a narrative non-fiction about her struggles with diabetic retinopathy, received a CTRR award for outstanding writing, and The Claddagh Ring is a 2009 CAPA nominee for best inspirational of the year. Other books by Sharon Donovan are Mask of the Betrayer, Touched by an Angel, Lasting Love and Her Biggest Fan. Charade of Hearts is coming soon from The Wild Rose Press. You can visit Sharon at
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