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Tuesday, February 9, 2016

FREE eBook Today Only ♥ The Song That Seduced Paris by Cindy Irish ♥ (Contemporary Romance)




Opera gets sexy!

American music mogul Teddy Wilson combines the beauty of opera with the marketability of pop and creates the pop-opera multinational singing group called “Bel Homme.” French for “Beautiful Man,” the four performers he chooses are much more than that.

Gabriel Grenier is already a huge celebrity in his native France, but even at the height of his career, he’s bored and lonely and still wants more, so he accepts Teddy’s offer, hoping it will become his redemption.

American music teacher Annie Morgan is brought into this venture by her Aunt Harriet, who’s Teddy’s executive assistant. Annie becomes Teddy’s special emissary in this new undertaking—but she’s not prepared for her instant attraction to the charismatic Gabriel. And he’s blindsided by the life-altering effect of Annie’s very first smile.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because Teddy wants nothing personal mucking up this gig, and he forbids the two to get involved. Gabriel has never had to answer to anyone, and he’s not sure he wants to start now. Annie is still mourning her deceased husband’s memory, and she’s not sure of anything.

What happens when beautiful music meets predestined love? Seduction always wins.

Gabriel’s and Annie’s love story is the first book in this romantic, sexy Bel Homme Quartet. Don’t miss being there from the very beginning.

Vive la France!



C'est parfait!

It's a steamy, feel-good contemporary romance that I will be reading again and again! This book absolutely deserves a standing ovation. Each and every character was fantastic, and this book set up the whole series quite nicely!

I was intrigued from the beginning! Even the first page is...well...ahem...let's just say I have never seen a book begin quite that way :) It was absolutely not what I expected this book to include, but again, I was VERY interested to see where the story went from there!

And it doesn't stop there! Not only is the love built up between Annie and Gabriel (and a certain other couple that shall remain nameless and you'll have to read to find out), but the love scenes are ON FIRE!!! Cindy includes that element of true love that makes these exchanges between Annie and Gabriel so endearing.

Annie might just be my favorite heroine of all time. She is no-nonsense, smart, VERY funny and yet sometimes, as with the rest of us, forgets to turn on her filter. Some of the things that come out of her mouth are absolutely priceless!

Gabriel is, bar none, THE most romantic hero I have ever read. Ladies, I think you will GLADLY ditch your current book-boyfriend for Gabriel! (I know I did!)

An element is included in this story (twice) that I usually don't like reading about; the deceased spouse. Cindy included and handled this aspect beautifully with such humility and respect that, and I felt, really added to the story. It also added to Gabriel's character with regard to the way he handled it.

I absolutely LOVED every single character in this book. I even found it hard to hate the "villain"! (The conflict was pretty low-stress, which fit in well with the tone of the story)

I am THRILLED that book 2 is out, and I can't wait to read Jamie's story!!!


Gabriel needed air. Placing the bottle on the floor, he slid the door open. “Come walk with me,” he said, stepping out and hoping she would.
Annie bounced forward and fell in beside him. They kept a steady pace and moved through the grass and weeds. The breeze this morning was soft, the sky a bright blue, and the sun shone down and warmed the top of her head. This would be pleasant even without him strolling beside her. Then he speeded up and took long-legged strides, his big hands tucked into his front pockets, the stretch pulling the denim tight over his masculine contours. He winced when the bandage tore away from his knuckles a bit. His dark brown hair lifted and fluttered, messily blowing into his eyes and over the collar of his short-sleeved shirt. Everything about him was a temptation, and she had no idea how she was going to end this accelerating wealth of heart-stopping attraction. “Do you like it here?”
Gabriel looked around, admiring the expansive scene. “I do. Very much.”
“Me, too. I feel welcome here.” Her heart skipped when he took her hand in his uninjured one and entwined their fingers. His hand was warm and had a gentle strength about it, and she squeezed, but he wouldn’t look at her. “What’s it like being one of the biggest celebrities in France?”
Gabriel answered without thinking. “Lonely.”
Annie softened. What an odd word to choose for the first one. “Is it fun?”
He watched his feet. She was going to do it. She was going to open him up and discover every answer she was looking for. “Usually.”
“Challenging?”
“Always. I don’t want a job that teaches me nothing.”
Illuminating, she thought. “So the easy choices don’t interest you.”
“Not at all. Even when I was young, I had an old man’s pride to balance a young man’s romantic spirit, and the belief I was given a gift that shouldn’t be squandered.”
“How old were you when you started working?”
“Eight.”
“So young. Did your parents force you?”
“No, it was me who forced them. From the time I was born, I’ve been denied nothing I’ve ever wanted—and I wanted to perform.”
Annie shivered at the thought of such privilege. She studied his refined profile. In this revealing light, he looked younger than his thirty-odd years, and a speck of that little boy was still there behind the faint lines around his eyes. She wondered something. “Did you go to a regular school?”
“Non, private tutors always. Teachers whose only job was to educate me in my lessons.” He smiled down at her. She looked refreshing today. Her petite figure was beautiful in a rosy cropped top that did nothing to hide her voluptuous curves, and the sight of that bare expanse of tummy made his balls tighten and his cock stir. He definitely was no longer impotent. “I did not miss anything, chaton, except perhaps having a teacher who looked like you.” And then she blushed. He couldn’t remember the last woman he’d been with who was actually able to blush. “You are like a rare, innocent flower.”
“And you’re nothing but a sweet talker,” she teased as she brushed up against him and their arms rubbed together. His skin was hot and soft, the hair there, silky and ticklish. On the outside, he seemed ideal. What was going on inside? “I want you to tell me what’s wrong.” They were getting closer to the trees. Out here, they were in the open. The forest would close them in. Maybe its cover would allow him to share his secrets, so she steered them that way. “Don’t worry about how it looks or how it might sound.”
Gabriel watched a flock of birds fly overhead. This place really was soothing. So was the woman holding his hand. “How I look to the outside world, and how I sound, is all I always think about,” he admitted as she led him into the shade of the woods. Here it was nicer. Intimate and protected. The air was cooler, and everything smelled vibrant and fertile. He stopped them and studied her. She was unlike any woman he knew. “I’m different with you.”
Annie withdrew her hand. “What do you mean?” she asked, feeling a sexual buzz heat up her back. When he aimed his charm and his energy at her, she found it hard to breathe.
“I’m…normal.” A leaf fell from a tree and landed on the slope of her breast. Good choice. That’s where he’d like to be. “I’m not my image or my reputation. I’m how I feel myself to be inside.” He couldn’t stop looking at that leaf. It fluttered with the rise and fall of her lungs, still clinging and unwilling to let go. “I’m accustomed to working with others in my acting, but with music, it’s always been only me. And I suppose I’m good enough, or Teddy wouldn’t have chosen me, but those guys back there are really good. I’m adjusting, Annie. This is entirely new to me, and I still haven’t found the—is the American word ‘pocket’? You know, that place where I fit in.”
She smiled. “I think you mean ‘niche.’ ”
Stepping forward, he smiled, too. “Yes, oui. My niche.” He moved closer, then closer—backing her up until she was against the tree trunk. He leaned a hand against the rough bark, right next to her head, and his whole system stuttered at the sight of her delicate, tempting body. He wanted to taste it. Assault it. Pleasure it. He wet his lips, then whispered her name, but she stuck to the business at hand.
“You know how it is when you sing?” she asked him, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “It’s physical, but you use your other senses, too?”
“Yes. I feel the music and the words before I let them out.”
“Precisely,” she said as he brought his hand down. “Do…that.” He was gently cupping her breast. “Trust…your feelings.” His bold move seared her body with need. “Oh, Gabriel…” Her eyes slid closed, and she saw sparkles of light: exploding stars. “What…what are you doing?”
Gabriel’s voice was gruff. “I’ve been watching this leaf that fell on you and waiting for it to fall the rest of the way, but it likes you too much to leave.” He flicked his thumb over her, and the leaf floated away in the air. “There. It’s free.” But he was captive, and he knew: Annie was a battle he was losing. “I am going to have to talk to Teddy,” he murmured, following the slide of his two fingers up and down her bare arm now. “My craving for you is only growing, and I cannot stay away. It feels like you are mine already—and I have a confession to make. I’m jealous of your relationship with the other men.” With slow deliberation, he brushed his palm ever-so-softly over her taut nipple as he lifted his long thick lashes. “If you want orgasms”—he boldly cupped her again—“I’ll give them to you.”
She swallowed. How in the world was she going to fight this? The thought of Teddy and her promise loomed large. “Please stop.”
Bracing both hands on the tree now, Gabriel placed a gentle kiss next to her bruise, then rested his forehead against hers. He struggled to catch his breath. “We’d better go back, then.” With every ounce of his self-control, he lifted away. “Take me back.”
Annie’s awakening heart pounded with passion and desire, fear of her feelings making her move. Holding his hand again, she started them walking. “Do the job, Gabriel. There’s plenty of time for more.” Still, her eyes were drawn to his sculpted, mesmerizing profile. Beneath his cultured exterior beat the dark warning of an untamed beast, and she was becoming obsessed to know that part of him, too. With him, she wanted it all. My God, she was in trouble. Oh yes, she may not have his worldly experience, but one thing she did know. If she unlocked that door, he’d sweep in and steal her heart away.



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Author Cindy Irish writes Contemporary, Paranormal, and Speculative romance fiction. She's a member of Romance Writers of America, as well as the Mid-Michigan and Greater Detroit chapters. Cindy lives in Michigan with her family. For more information about her work, visit her website at http://www.cindyirish.com


As you can see, I was a happy, carefree child.
ChildhoodPhoto IIObviously, I had a fabulous fashion sense
that touted the stunning charms
of short-sleeved patterned shirts
with earthy grime around the neckline. 
I completed my farm-girl assemble
with the practical flair of bib overalls.
It made for frustrating tinkle breaks,
I’m sure, but then it never bound me at the
waist, either. 
You’d think for that reason alone I could have at least unfurrowed my
brows and cracked a smile, wouldn’t you? 
Maybe it was that hideous hair.
My kinky hairstyle was totally fabricated by the application
of a very bad perm, as I have naturally straight locks.
The overall sweaty look of it was created by the hot and humid
temperatures of a sultry Michigan summer. My mother could
never trim my bangs in a straight line, and as a result,
to this day no one but me cuts my hair in front. 
Trust once betrayed leaves deep repercussions.
I don’t remember what happened to that bunny in my arms,
but I wouldn’t be surprised if my older devil-brother
buried him alive years ago.
Actually, I don’t remember being as testy
as I look up there, either, but the camera doesn’t lie. 
Nonetheless, this is my favorite photograph of myself
because it never fails to make me laugh—and I love to laugh.
There’s nothing more entertaining than human beings, is there? 
Not even puppies. 
Sam.jpg full size.jpg croppedWell, okay, except maybe puppies.
love puppies, especially Old English Sheepdogs.
This is our dearly-missed Sam,
or Lady Samantha Amber as she was formally titled.
I like Golden Retrievers, too.
I love cats—and, it seems, the mangier the better.
I’ve always adopted strays someone else has abandoned.

My childhood consisted of playing cars in the sand
and making up stories starring my paper dolls.
Even then, I was a Romance Writer-in-Training.  
Cindy's Kindergarten PictureBefore I turned five and posed for this equally giddy-looking
picture here, I’d sit at a table—any table—and play it
like a piano, so it was decided to get me a real one
(a piano, not my very own table) and see what I could do. 
I took piano lessons from Mrs. Draveling for many, many years.
She was a strict instructor who insisted I learn the classical composers only.
No Broadway show tunes for Cindy. 
For that I’m extremely grateful because today I love classical music.
In my pre-teens, I took organ lessons from Professor Romeo Fracalanza
whose home always smelled like garlic bread and Chianti. In retrospect,
I think that must have been when I fell in love with everything Italian.
I remember looking out his beautiful beveled glass windows as I played.
He was born in Piombino Bese, Italy, and his teacher was the organist
at St. Peter’s Cathedral in Rome. How cool is that? I was a lucky little girl
to have him as my teacher, and I was blessed to have known him. 
piano lessons...smallMy first job was in fourth grade when I became a church organist. 
I wanted to become a nun, but I hate being told what to do, 
so I scratched that idea pretty fast.
(Don’t act so surprised. Look at those two pictures
above again. Is that the face of a peaceful, pious person?)
Anyway, music has always been a big part of my life. 
I sang and wrote music. I wrote poetry. 
I read all the time—the library was one of my favorite places.
Laced-hand-holding-pen___smallerNow, I write all the time. 

I honed a lot of my skills as a copywriter creating radio commercials. You think it’s easy coercing the public in sixty seconds or less to buy a product?
Think again, unaware consumers. 
That kind of writing sharpens the brain cells and focuses the mind to turn emotion
and need into a blur of mass shopping ejaculation. 
(Using snappy double entrendres is a given with romance writers.)  
Then in my late teens,
I picked up an astrology book,

and that’s all it took.

In a flash, 
 I was well and truly hooked.
I sound like a metaphysical Dr. Seuss
But this is sincerely true: I’m very serious about the subject of the stars and the planets, and how their magnetic energies affect and correlate with everything on our earth.
I’ve studied with the best astrologers in the business, and I’ve taught adult education astrology classes and had my own astrological radio program. I’m one of only a handful of astrologers who uses the INCARN program to calculatenatal charts. (This fact should tell you that the rest of them look on INCARNwith a mixture of patient humor, subtle skepticism, and thinly-veiled disdain.)
Astrologer's room...smallerThe theory of soul-based natal charts, rather than birthtime charts, is mentioned in some of Edgar Cayce’s readings,and the computer program toimplement them was created by my mentor, the late John Willner. The ancient algorithm itself can be traced back to a British woman who used it to formulate spiritual-birth charts at the turn of the 20th century, but beyond that, I have no further knowledge of its true origin. I only know that THIS is the astrology of the future.
So the music and the metaphysics in my background explain the subject matter in my writing today. My romantic heart, I attribute to being a water sign with a very heavy emphasis on Pisces.
For years, it never occurred to me to try writing romance.
Now it seems impossible not to.
Whether my setting is contemporary or paranormal, the tales are super sexy, witty, sentimental, and uplifting. I want you to smile and sigh when you finish the last page.
Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have you read and enjoy the stories I’ve been privileged and honored to have come through me. See, although I reached up through the frail barrier of the collective imagination and claimed them as my own, they’re not really mine. 
But knowing that doesn’t keep me from joyfully passing them on to you… 
keywithribbonsmall




   


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1 comment :

  1. Thanks, Lauren! I appreciate your kindness. ~ Cindy

    ReplyDelete

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