Teaser and Excerpt – Harsh by Debra Doxer

Posted 08/21/2018 by Cezanne in Promotional /// 0 Comments ///


Teaser and Excerpt – Harsh by Debra Doxer Title: Harsh
Author: Debra Doxer
Publisher by: Self-Published
Published on: September 4, 2018
Genres: Contemporary Romance, New Adult Romance, Romance

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Related Books: Play Of Light, Like Candy

Each day dies with night, and every dream fades in the morning.

That’s what Vincent Rossi knows. His life has been one tough break after another. Even when good things happen, they get destroyed because that’s how the universe works. It gives and it takes, but it mostly takes.
No matter how terrible today is, there’s always the promise of tomorrow.

That’s what Annalise Cantana knows. She’s experienced tragedy and triumph in her life. The tragedy happened to her. It was beyond her control. The triumph is her spirit, which, despite the odds, remains unbroken.

When this cynical man is hired to protect the woman who refuses to dwell on the negative, their lives become intertwined. Like opposing forces, Vincent and Annalise repel and attract until he is unable to resist the light she brings to each day. She thaws the ice in his veins and makes him smile. She cares about him in a way he doesn’t deserve.

But hidden beneath the closeness building between them lies a secret that could extinguish that light forever. It would devastate Annalise if she found out, and would unravel the hope Vincent finally dares to embrace.

In the end, he must make an impossible choice: hold tight to the first glimmer of happiness in his life, or forsake it all to save her and watch another dream turn to dust.

 

 

 

EXCERPT

When I got out of the shower, I took my time brushing out my hair. Then I examined my knee, determined it was nothing worse than a bruise, pulled on my robe, and walked out to find Vincent sitting on the couch, looking like he wanted to murder me. My gaze swung from him to the door, which was closed, and the chain lying broken on the carpet.

“You broke in?”

“I used my key. Had to break the chain, though.”

“You have a key to my apartment?”

Vincent stood and stalked toward me. I stumbled back, and he caught me by the front of my robe, gripping it in his hand.

“You think this is a fucking joke?” He growled the question.

“No.”

“Then what? You like playing games?”

“I’m not playing games.” I tried to pull away, but he only tightened his hold.

“Then what is your fucking problem? I’m trying to protect you, and you lock me out in the hallway?”

“You’re my problem. I was scared, and when I tried to talk to you, you acted like I wasn’t even in the room. If I’m going to feel like I’m alone, I might as well be alone.”

Vincent looked at me as though he were seeing me for the first time today. We were both worked up, breathing hard, our faces only inches apart. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, and as he stared at me, the fire in his eyes flickered into something else. Remorse. Understanding.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his eyes holding me there, pinning me in place just as firmly as his hand gripping my robe.

As my anger faded, I became all too aware of his closeness. I could feel the heat coming off his body and smell the clean scent of his skin. His eyes searched mine, moving back and forth with a sheen of confusion, like he was caught up in a spell and didn’t know how to break it.

Then he leaned in closer, and my breathing hitched. I looked at his lips, so full and soft. When he licked them, my heart quivered in my chest. He wanted to kiss me. I felt it too strongly to be wrong. I wanted to kiss him too, and I longed for him to touch me.

His hand on my robe was so close to my skin. He only had to move the slightest bit and his fingers would brush the top of my breast. I imagined his hands on me, smoothing over my skin, and my core pulsed with desire. He moved even closer and I pulled in a quick breath of anticipation, but then his grip loosened and the heat coming off him disappeared.

©DebraDoxer

About Debra Doxer

Debra Doxer was born in Boston, and other than a few lost years in the California sunshine, she has always resided in the Boston area. She writes fiction, technical software documents, illegible scribbles on sticky notes, and texts that get mangled by AutoCorrect. She writes for a living, and she writes for fun. When her daughter asks when she’ll run out of words, her response always is, “When I run out of time.”

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