Monday, June 9, 2014

Her Secret Past by Victoria Blisse: Spotlight with Excerpt


Victoria Blisse – Her Secret Past  

To celebrate the release of Her Secret Past, Totally Bound are giving away a bundle of eBooks by Victoria Blisse. Enter here for your chance to win:
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A past she wants to forget, a secret that will change everything and a hunky guy who should have known better.


It’s no secret that Katrina Quinn has been caught having an affair with her hunky co-star. Hounded by the press she has escaped to Yorkshire, England and the remote seclusion of Copse Cottage. It’s a house packed full of junk and memories—far too much for one woman to handle.


For odd job man Ryan Taylor, being hired to clear clutter while ogling one of Hollywood’s hottest stars seems like easy money. A good way to escape his jealous, drunken girlfriend, Eve, who seems intent on making his life a misery. But Copse Cottage is haunted with his happy past, stirring anew his longing for the girl he used to call the best in the world.


A stolen beat-up suitcase is going to change everything—secrets will be revealed, hearts will be broken all over again and the biggest mystery of all will finally be answered.




One Sunday morning, Claire, Mel and Julie were all in bed with Saturday-night-induced hangovers. I didn’t go out a lot even in uni. With my issues from years of bullying and being the poorest of the house, I didn’t have the money or the desire to go out. 

“You don’t need money,” Claire would exclaim. “Just bat your lashes and rub your curves against a guy. He’ll keep you in drinks all night.” She had enough self-confidence to cover all four of us and the looks to match. 

I wasn’t so confident or so blas√© about promising a man something I wasn’t willing to give. 
The kitchen looked as though we’d provided a three-course meal for half of Oxford and forgotten to wash up. I knew I should take a stand and just leave it, but I simply couldn’t. I grumbled to myself the whole time, clattering and banging in the hopes of disturbing the alcohol-fuelled sleep of the other girls. No one stirred, and I just got more and more irate. Just as I was putting away the dishes there was a knock at the door. 

I was fairly certain it wouldn’t be for me as the friends I had were the kind to arrange things well in advance. I grumbled to myself all the way to the door, pasted on a smile and opened it. 

“Oh, hi, Janet.” 

“Hey, Sean, what’s up?” I exclaimed. Sean was in my English class, we sat together and chatted a bit, but I didn’t even know that he knew where I lived. I had no clue why he was there. 

“Just wondered if we could hang out for a bit.” 

“Well, I’m in the middle of cleaning our shit tip of a kitchen, but you can come in if you like?” 

“Yeah, sure, no worries.” He shrugged. 

I stepped back and he walked in, his long legs cased in light blue jeans cupping his arse tightly beneath his denim jacket. In the nineties, double denim wasn’t so much of a sin. He looked good in it, too. 

“How’re you?” I asked following him into the kitchen. 

“Not bad, you?” 

“Pissed off at the other girls, but otherwise fine. How was your weekend?” 

We continued to chit-chat as I set the kettle to boiling. My blood pressure started to even out, and I actually relaxed over a cuppa. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I need to finish this floor, or I’ll never be able to relax.” 

“I’ll help if you like—two of us will get it done quicker. “ 

“That would be amazing, but, well, we don’t have a mop, it’s a hand job.” I realised what I’d said and stuttered over myself, “I mean we have to get down on all fours and, you know, clean.” 

“Sure”—he smirked—“I understand.” 

My cheeks felt like hot coals and I tried unsuccessfully to get my mind onto the job in hand and away from the images to go with the words I’d just used. 

“You know, as much as I’m enjoying the domestic chores, I didn’t come here just to clean your kitchen floor.” 

I sprayed the floor and rubbed it with the kitchen roll. The lemon freshness released by my scrubbing tickled my noise. 

“Really? I’d never have guessed. What else could you have possibly wanted?” I winked cheekily then continued to scrub. We were already halfway down the tiny room—Sean was by the cooker, I was near the wall. 

“Well, that’s the thing. I’m not sure how to put it.” 

“Oh dear, that sounds bad.” I cringed. 

“No, no, not bad.” He sat back on his heels and sighed. “Okay, so if I say it quickly and I don’t think about it, maybe it’ll be all right. I came here to ask you to go out with me.” 

“Oh.” I stopped wiping. My jaw dropped. “Me?” 

“Yes, you,” he confirmed. 

“Oh.” My brain had stopped working. I sat back on my heels too and tried to get my tongue around the word ‘yes’ that I really, really wanted to say but it seemed as though my tongue had swollen to the size of my mouth. 

“Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…” Sean coughed. 

“I’m really trying to say something,” I gasped. “But all cogent thought seems to have left me. Please don’t go, I’d love to go on a date.” 

“You would?” He smiled and his face gleamed with joy. 

My heart did a little happy dance from the sight of it. 

“Yes,” I replied. “I really would.” 

“Excellent.” He beamed and wrapped his arms around me in an embrace. I was glad to note that he’d dropped the wet rag first. I hugged him back, taking note of his broad shoulders and the hints of cinnamon spice that came through in his scent. 

I moved back—I was going to say something about having to finish the kitchen floor before anything else—when he kissed me. It was just that unexpectedly abrupt but it was glorious. His plump and giving lips undulated against my own and after the initial spurt of uncertainty I kissed back with equal passion. I was overtaken by a flood of desire. I didn’t want to stop kissing him—I didn’t want to stop touching him. It felt so very good. 


He cupped my waist as we kissed. His fingers crept up under the material onto my skin, the prickling sensation of his fingers on my flesh extended through my whole frame, tickling in such a pleasant way that I moaned into his mouth. He took that as encouragement and moved his hands higher. 

I tried to readjust myself to do the same to him but when I moved forward I must have moved into the washed zone of the floor because in the next moment I was falling. Luckily, Sean was quick-witted and, by some feat of elasticity, I landed on top of him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry—” 

Sean just pulled my lips back down to his so I assumed I hadn’t broken him with my clumsiness and just continued to kiss him. I was astride him and could feel the definite imprint of his erection on the inside of my thigh. It was a curious feeling, something completely new to me, and I really wasn’t sure what to do. I wanted to feel more. I wasn’t a prude, and if sex was on the cards I was eager for it to happen, but I was stuck for inspiration— What should I do next? Could I make a move or would that put Sean off?
Would he think I’m a slut? I had all these questions and more buzzing in my brain and getting in the way of the delicious signals of arousal that were coursing through my veins. 
I don’t know if Sean realised my quandary or if he was just a wicked young man, but as I fought myself over what to do next he took control and pushed me to the side. I screeched in a very unladylike way when my T-shirt hit the wet floor and started soaking up the lemon-scented water. 

Sean just laughed and held me down. I think he liked the way I wiggled against him. 

“You’re so hot,” he gasped, kneeling beside me, his body towering over me. 

“And wet now!” I grumped. 

“Oh, really?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

I looked confused then giggled when I realised what I’d said. 

“Let me check,” he whispered. 



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