Excerpt: Brave - Vilma Iris | Lifestyle Blogger

Courage means rising up to defend your beliefs…
or daring to question them.

Erin McIntyre was captivating, but forbidden
His professional subordinate
The embodiment of unearned privilege
The daughter of his sworn enemy

Isaac Maat was impossible to read
Smart, ambitious, and emotionally detached
Hotter than anyone’s boss should ever be
And definitely hiding something…

He told himself that getting to know her would help him take down her father.
She told herself that getting under his skin would distract her wrecked heart from its misery.

Neither predicted their private war would lead to an intimate battle in which the victor would be the first one to SURRENDER.

Series:

Contours of the Heart

Book 4

Can be read as a standalone

Book Type:

Contemporary Romance

Buy Now:

Connect with Tammara Webber:

Series Reading Order:

This post contains affiliate links, meaning I’ll receive a small commission should you purchase using those links. All opinions expressed are my own. I receive no compensation for reviews.

Excerpt: Brave
By Tammara Webber

Excerpt: Brave

Tammara Webber, author of the wildly popular Easy and other bestselling romances, is back with a standalone love story—Brave.  A forbidden romance between two unlikely people, who have every reason to stay away from each other, but can’t… I’m thrilled to share a sneak peek at what awaits in this novel, which hits e-readers December 19th.

❮ PRE-ORDERAMAZON | iBOOKS | BARNES & NOBLE ❯

While I filled in blanks on the stack of paperwork that would make me an official employee of JMCH, Uncle Hank launched into a praise session about the remarkable combination of intelligence, drive, patience, and personality that comprised the supervisor I had yet to meet, Isaac Maat.

“Who else does he manage?” I asked, handing over my contact information, W-4 allowances, health insurance elections, and 401(k) designations.

“Just you,” Hank said, tapping the small pile of documents into a neat stack as if his answer hadn’t just opened the door to making an awkward situation ten times worse.

“So the person who held the position before me was promoted? Or resigned? Or…?” An uneasy suspicion whispered his response to my brain before he answered.

“It’s a new position.” He clipped the paperwork and slid it into a file folder with my name on the label: McIntyre, Erin R.

I looked at my clueless father, who winked at me. My stomach flipped and sank. “A new position. As in, you made up a job for me. Oh my God. Is there even a job to do?”

“Uh,” said my father, catching on and looking to Hank to impede my escalating freak-out.

I imagined the formidably talented, genial but diligent Mr. Maat whipping up simple little projects to keep the owner’s incompetent, otherwise jobless daughter busy.

“Oh sure, sure—we’ve been in dire need of a specified client liaison,” Hank assured me, sputtering a little with the obvious lie and adjusting his glasses while his eyes darted between my father and me before glancing toward the door and beaming. “Ah, Isaac—perfect timing!” His gleeful appreciation of the interruption was palpable.

I turned, and my earlier relief at having bypassed the second floor and the rude man I’d hoped to escape meeting on my first day, if not forever, crashed and burned. My smile faded before reaching full wattage as I stared at the very last person in that building I wanted to encounter. This guy was the sociable, even-tempered, model employee I’d just spent fifteen solid minutes hearing all about?

Up close, he was beyond good-looking, which just pissed me off more. Attractive men have no right to be assholes. They were starting ahead of the curve. At frat parties, I had downgraded the pretty ones in my head before they spoke. Beautiful eyes: minus two points. Tall (unless lanky): minus three. Muscular: minus five. The cuter they were, the more I made them work for my attention. It was only fair.

Isaac Maat’s medium-brown skin held a hint of red, like a warm sepia polish. His lashes were long, thick, and curved, framing large, nearly black eyes. Sharp cheekbones. Wide nose balanced over full lips. Square, stubborn jawline shaded by a dark, neat scruff of beard. Dressed like a GQ cover model. His physical appeal handicap was so low he could turn pro.

Lucky for me his personality left a lot to be desired. Unlucky for me that brushing him off was not a viable option as he was now my freaking boss.

His earlier scowl had been replaced with a placid, not ill-disposed expression, but then, he hadn’t shared my surprise. He’d known exactly who I was when he’d glowered down at me like I was an avowed nemesis instead of his new report. Okay, sure, I was the owner’s daughter, and it probably irked him to no end that he’d lost the rock-paper-scissors match and had to take on babysitting duties, but I hadn’t come to wreak cosmic havoc on the place, and I wasn’t remotely qualified to commandeer his job out from under him. So what the actual hell was his deal?

“Good to have you on board, Ms. McIntyre,” he said, nodding across the expanse of polished teak between us, unbuttoning his perfectly cut suit jacket and sitting directly opposite me, one foot atop the opposite knee and large, well-manicured hands loosely clasped in his lap, casual as the devil. His voice was deep and soothing, like a tranquil country stream leading to a fishpond with no visible bottom. Mistake it for a harmless swimming hole and you could get tangled up in submerged weeds or bash your head on an unseen rock.

Despite his reserved demeanor and sincerely expressed words of welcome, I knew he no more welcomed me here than a cantankerous cat welcomed a yappy puppy to share the sofa. I felt the insult of his presumptions, whatever they were, but I was more miffed than nervous. If he thought I was going to let his surliness intimidate me, he could guess again. I’d grown up with three older brothers and a gruff bear of a father. I’d put up with four years of inaccurate frat-boy assumptions about what amount of unsolicited handiness would or would not earn a knee to the balls. Dude was gonna have to up his game.

“Mr. Maat. Pleased to meet you.” If words were visible, mine would’ve had icicles dangling from them.

Subscribe for Updates:

Share This Post

2 Comments:


  1. Sandi Armstrong said:

    This is such a great Christmas present. Love Tammara Webber’s books. “Easy” was so emotandcwad a wreck after reading it. But after all this time, never forgot these characters. Thank you for my Christmas present. ?

    Reply

    1. vilmairis Post author said:

      Yay! I’m so happy you loved the sneak peek!

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

On Instagram