Focus: Meet Sonya #MFRWhooks

Enemies to Lovers Billionaire Romance ​

https://www.silverdaggertours.com/tour-sign-ups/focus-tour-sign-ups

Professional photographer Dana Secrest has a secret and doesn’t even know it. When she storms from her best friend’s home on Christmas Eve—not the wisest decision she’s ever made—security contractor Sam Galdicar follows her to save her from her own hot temper and impulsive action. Upon arriving home, Dana discovers her apartment has been ransacked. Then an attempt is made on her life. She doesn’t know who’s trying to kill her or why, but Sam is determined to protect the woman whose eyes don’t need a camera to see the truth. ​

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Sonya Excerpt
​*Warning: Not Suitable For All Readers

Suzanne looked at me, her expression steady and giving nothing away. I understood that going or staying was my choice. She would not interfere with my decision.

I averted my gaze and whispered, “No.”

“I’m under orders, Mrs. Vermont.”

Suzanne’s hand settled over mine, warm over my cold flesh. Her touch gave me strength. I repeated my answer in a hoarse voice, “No.”

“Mr. Vermont will not be pleased.”

I shuddered, knowing that the punishment he’d mete out would be beyond anything I’d ever suffered for prior defiance. Slowly, I stood and raised my skirt, exposing the dark bruises and welts on my upper thighs as well as haute couture silk panties. I heard the hiss of indrawn breath behind me. The reverend had come home, followed by his mother.

“Brutality offends the Lord!” Reverend Blankenship shouted. He glowered at Gordon and pointed one thick finger at him. “Begone, minion of Satan! Begone from God’s house!”

Gordon’s cold eyes flared with some strong emotion—or perhaps it was just annoyance. He nodded, turned on his heel, and departed. I released my skirt and let the heavy fabric fall back into place.

Rev. Blankenship held my gaze as he seated himself at the table and his wife brought him a slice of pie and a glass of cold milk. He took a bite then said, “Your husband’s a powerful man, Mrs. Vermont.”

I nodded.

“This won’t be easy.”

I nodded again.

“Howard, you could lose your position over this,” his mother hissed.

Struck by the consequences the reverend and his family were likely to suffer for supporting my bid for freedom, I turned to leave.

“A shepherd cares for his flock and rescues those that are lost,” he intoned. “As Jesus Christ saved the world, I can do nothing less than save one of my flock.”

I trembled, unsure whether to stay or go. A pair of warm hands settled on my shoulders and gently turned me around. I looked into the soft smile of Suzanne Blankenship’s kindness.

“No woman should bear marks like that. You’re staying with us.”

​My fragile control shattered and I collapsed into her arms, weeping as though my heart had broken. As though something else had broken inside me, I felt liquid warmth soak my panties and run down my legs. Suzanne gasped. I looked down. Blood trickled over the expensive leather of my shoe.