Would it matter if you were a guest or a prisoner? What if the person holding you was super sexy? Say your favorite Hollywood Heartthrob or famous Rock Star? What if they were holding you to keep you safe? To protect you? What if you were able to have anything you wanted, except for being able to leave?
This is the premise behind MS Kaye's release "Endless as the Rain". Seriously, I had to consider some of those options. If Tom Hiddleston had me held captive, I don't know I would be so upset, especially if we could sit and talk (or watch movies)....I also would have a hard time being upset if I was in the witness protection program being kept safe so I wouldn't be killed. But what about you? Read the blurb and excerpt from MS Kaye's book and see for yourself.....
For Adriane Graham, the real question comes down to this: “Am I Alec Kaden’s guest…Or his prisoner?”
If she’s a guest in the Kaden mansion, then it means Alec has freed himself from his family ties to organized crime. It means he’s telling the truth when he says he’s protecting Adriane from dangerous men and they can shake off the shackles of haunted pasts.
If Adriane Graham is Alec Kaden’s prisoner, it means his tenderness is simply a ruse to keep her under control; his kindness is just poisoned hypocrisy. It means Alec is a cruel liar, and that somehow, by some desperate way, she’s got to get out of this charming man’s well-guarded house before it’s too late.
Is she Alec’s treasured guest? Or merely a pretty bird, trapped in his gilded cage? The troubling questions pour like fountains…flowing…
Endless as the Rain.
The colors of the rug brightened with the afternoon sun, and then they faded as shadows fell. I tried to see the rug and nothing else. My eyes burned.
Eventually, I could barely see the rug, no colors, only faint outlines.
I didn’t move. My joints hurt.
If I stared long enough, everything would be okay. Everything would dull like it always did. Since my father’s death five years ago, I’d given up pleasant emotions in order to keep the difficult ones away. It was a fair tradeoff. I wasn’t entirely sure into which category my current emotions fell, but it didn’t matter; I didn’t want any of them.
There were footsteps in the hall. Then they stopped.
A soft tap at the door. “Adriane?”
I looked at the door.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Do you need anything?”
With silent movements, I stood from the sofa and walked over to the door. I lay my hand on the wood.
A minute passed.
Then his quiet footsteps moved away, disappeared down the hall.
I leaned my head against the door.
Then I found a direction for my anger. I hated him for making me feel like this, for making me feel at all.
About the Author:
M.S. Kaye has several awards and published books under her black belt. A transplant from Ohio, she resides with her husband Corey in Jacksonville, Florida, where she tries not to melt in the sun. Find suspense and the unusual at www.BooksByMSK.com.
To receive news on upcoming releases, sign up for email updates on her website.
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