When Aleatha Romig announces a new book, I pay attention. As a big fan of the Consequences series, I eagerly await her next suspenseful tale, which I’m sure will be as brilliantly plotted, twisted and surprising as her other stories have been. And today, she’s getting some fabulous attention with an insert in the UK version of Cosmopolitan magazine! You can buy the issue here or find it at high-end newsstands and luxury department stores such as Neiman Marcus and Bloomingdales.
I’m also thrilled to be able to share with you an exclusive excerpt of Insidious which will be coming to us soon! I seriously cannot wait to have this book in my hands!!!! The cover is gorgeous and the synopsis drives me mad with anticipation. You can read the first part of this excerpt on Aleatha’s website here, but for now, enjoy this glimpse into Insidious, the first book in the Tales from the Dark Side series comprised of standalone novels to devour!
The grieving widow is new, but I can do it: shaking hands, sad smiles, even a tear or two when necessary.
The acting isn’t new. I’ve been doing it my whole life.
The truth is too painful to reveal, too upsetting for those around me. They don’t want to see who I truly am… what I truly am.
They don’t want to know I’m a killer.
Insidious (Chapter One Excerpt III) by Aleatha Romig
Brody Phillips, esquire, was, among other things, my informant. As a junior partner at Craven and Knowles, the prestigious law firm that handled all of Stewart’s personal legal needs, he was privy to information that affected me. The common good ‘ole boy attitude shared by most in the firm was that as Stewart’s wife I didn’t need to know or couldn’t possibly understand the legalities that affected me. Thankfully, I’d found an ally who disagreed. After all, it was my name, Victoria Conway Harrington, on the documents. Despite my husband’s obstinacy, I had a right to know.
Our alliance had started slowly. Every man was suspect, especially anyone within Stewart’s circles. I hadn’t planned on allowing Brody to get to know me—few people did. However, with time and patience, he pulled me into a sense of camaraderie. Unlike the men who saw me as nothing other than an available fuck, Brody spoke to me with sincerity. It was years into our clandestine friendship before we took it to the next level. However, once we did, turning back wasn’t an option.
A quick swipe of the key and the lock mechanism clicked. Before I could fully open the door, Brody’s strawberry blonde hair and smiling eyes stopped me momentarily in my tracks. He was the perfect man next door: innocent and sweet. Yet I knew from experience, he was equally cunning and shrewd. There was no way he’d have survived in the world of Craven and Knowles if he weren’t. However, there was something about his eyes. From the first time we’d met, I was fascinated. His eyes were unlike any I’ve ever seen. They weren’t the color blue nor were they green: they were more of an aquamarine hue. It wasn’t only the color that pulled me in: it was the way he looked at me, really looked. With a glance, even in a crowded room, he made me feel vulnerable and exposed. That did strange things to me, things I didn’t like. It was as if he could see a side of me that no one else could: he could see through my facade. Taking him in, the small lines at the corners of his eyes and the slight gleam implored my gaze to travel lower to his raised cheeks and welcoming smile. Involuntarily, the tips of my lips moved upward.
With his suit jacket and tie missing, my eyes traveled down his starched, fitted button-down shirt to his trim waist. His dark gray Brooks Brothers’ slacks accentuated his long legs and firm physique. Hearing the sound of his voice returned my look to his remarkable eyes.
“Vik-ki.” He elongated my nickname. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it.” The temperature of the room increased as he reached for my shoulder and leaned near. His lips brushed my cheek with the ghostly promise of more. The lingering scent of his aftershave filled me with memories of freshly laundered sheets, so unlike the heavy masculine cologne my husband wore. I fought the urge to reach up and stroke Brody’s cheek, to feel the slight stubble beneath my fingers.
Taking my hand, he led me inside the spacious suite. The wall farthest from the door was nothing but windows filled with the familiar blue. Though there were many things about Miami that I detested, the view of the water going on forever was not one of them. The view of the ocean momentarily took my breath as well as my response away.
“This is stunning.”
“Not as stunning as you,” he said, removing my sunglasses and staring deeply into my steel-gray eyes.
“Brody, I can’t—”
His lips captured my words as his firm chest pressed me toward the wall. The tingle of anticipation I’d felt moments earlier grew like a fire—wind to a spark on dry grass. I gave into desire and moved my petite hands to the sides of his face, feeling the stubble I’d longed to touch. My fingers lingered as our tongues united. I didn’t want to admit that I was afraid to let go, afraid of not remembering the feeling smoldering inside of me. The sound of our breathing filled the suite, as my beating heart echoed in my ears, momentarily drowning out reasoning, filling me instead with hunger for what he could provide.
“God, Vikki,” Brody finally said, breaking our seal and pushing me slightly away. His gaze deepened as he asked, “God, you taste so fucking good. I’ve missed seeing you like this.”
I reached for his chest and buried my cheek in his shirt. With the sound of his steady heartbeat, my body melted. Pent-up tension oozed from every pore until all that was left of me was liquid, held in place by his embrace. Fighting the desire to take our vertical connection horizontal, I stiffened my neck. “Brody, I-I can’t. Not today.”
“Are you all right, baby? You seem so…I don’t know…like you’re ready to explode. Or implode?”
I stepped back and walked toward the sofa, adjusting my dress and ignoring the part of me that longed to be lost in his arms.
“Why would you think I wasn’t coming?” I asked. “Our agreement was for 1:00 PM, and it’s barely one.”
“You didn’t reply to my last text. I was afraid someone else might have seen it.”
“No,” I said definitively. “Believe it or not, my phone stays with me. I did delete the text. There’s no sense taking unnecessary chances. Now, tell me what’s happening?”
His brow furrowed. “How’s Stewart?”
I shook my head and looked down. It was the same speech, with the same all-important non-verbal cues, that I’d given to anyone who asked. “Not well. The doctors seem to think that it could be any time. When he’s awake he’s lucid, but when he’s out, he’s out! I think it’s the medications. Though he hasn’t complained, the doctors say that this form of rapidly progressing leukemia is extremely painful. They have him pretty drugged up on pain killers. They’re doing all they can do to help him go peacefully.”
Brody reached for my hand. “Bravo. That’s a beautiful speech, Mrs. Harrington. Now tell me how the motherfucker is really doing.”
My downturned lips twitched as my eyes darted toward his. “He’s dying. He’s suffering. Karma’s a bitch and though he deserves every damn second, I wish Karma would get her ass in gear and finish him off. Watching him die is sucking the life right out of me.”
“Oh…” The aquamarine of his eyes shimmered. “I’d be glad to suck some life into you.”
The tension of the last few months seeped from my taut shoulders. “Don’t tempt me, Mr. Phillips. I’m not a stable woman.”
Click on the cover image below to purchase through Amazon.
My reviews: Consequences | Truth | Convicted | BHE: Consequences | The Missing Years
Reading Order: Consequences | Truth | Convicted | Revealed – The Missing Years | BHE Consequences (companion) | BHE Truth (companion) | A Peek Beyond the Consequences (novella)
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