YES ! We get to have Gina Wynn’s Newest release What You Wish For. 🏵🏵🏵🏵🏵
It’s Now Live. Happy release day Gina !!!
Readers, every day you get a snippet of chapter 1 TODAY YOU GET THE LAST PART
Then Get Your Copy TODAY and Enjoy xx
Title: What you wish for
Author: Gina Wynn
Genre: Romantic, Woman Fiction
Release Date: May 12
Tour Date: May 9 – 12
Hosted By Teaser Addicts PR
🏵Available Everywhere NOW🏵
🏵GOODREADS LINK : http://bit.ly/2pzrpOF
A tear slipped down my cheek at the idea of being the woman any man
conquered, at what I’d allowed to happen. At what I’d done.
I brushed my palm over my face. It didn’t matter what I expected Mr. Brian’s behaviour to be with his overnight guests. I had no business being there to find out. That was the start and the end of it. I warmed again, glad he couldn’t see me and my fifty shades of blush. Then I swallowed against rising nausea, my voice muffled by the trembling hand I pressed across my mouth.
Time to be the cliché. “Do you…. Ah, do you…. Um, did I mention Jake to you at all?”
“Jake?” His voice rose with emotion. Curiosity? Worry? Irritation or annoyance? “Jake Who?”
Yeah. Irritation. I cleared my throat. “Jake Forrester.”
“Forrester?” He appeared to be considering the word before he barked out a sharp question. “Dr. Forrester? Why would you mention him?”
I counted the seconds of sudden silence until a gentle knock. “Maggie, are you okay? Do you mean you need a doctor? Stay there, I’m coming in.” The handle above my head gave a small squeak of protest, and the luxurious carpet rubbed a slight burn against the backs of my thighs as the opening door pushed me forwards. I took a quick breath, inhaling new-carpet smell.
My head came up as Mr. Brian squeezed into my line of sight. He’d found pyjama bottoms since the last time we were in the same room.
“Different Forrester, I think.” I smiled, but the weak attempt merely pulled the corners of my mouth. “Jake Forrester is a landscape gardener and tree specialist— drives a van covered in pictures of flowers. He always jokes his name made him do it—you know, Forrester. Gardens? You must have seen it. Sometimes he drops me off at work.”
I pressed my lips together before I descended further into nervous babbling. Talking too much about Jake threatened to open up every floodgate holding my confused emotions in check.
Mr. Brian’s eyebrows knitted together, and his forehead creased. “Okay.” He paused, jaw tightening “Well, I can take you to see a doctor anyway. I’ll phone the practice. See if they can fit you in.” He slid back out of the overgrown cupboard, and the memory-lane whir of an old-school rotary phone almost convinced me I was sitting at my mother’s feet with my crayons while she caught up on all the latest gossip.
Oh God! Mum! She’d be mortified if she knew.
I slumped in defeat. I’d never be innocent of anything again.
Mr. Brian’s voice filtered through to me. “Hello. Yes, I wondered if any of the doctors had an appointment free today? My wife doesn’t seem to be quite herself.” I jerked in shock at his words. His wife? That presented a disturbing and unwelcome promotion from personal assistant.
Mr. Brian continued. “What? No, not really, but if he’s the last one with an appointment free, we’ll see him. Yes. Yes, I’m aware it’s a bank holiday…. Fine. Thank you for your help.” The call ended with the mostly forgotten, satisfying clatter of a receiver into a cradle.
Confusion buzzed through me. Waking up naked in someone else’s bed didn’t constitute a marriage agreement in anyone’s world. Propelled, finally, into action, I stood on shaky legs to dress in the creased clothing I’d scooped from the floor by his bed.
Walk of shame time.
Finding myself in the unenviable and inexplicable position of dressing in someone else’s clothes—apparently pre-worn for my convenience—added a whole new dimension of madness to the morning.
I crept from the wardrobe ten minutes later to find the bed made, the curtains drawn back, and the door to the ensuite bathroom wide open in either invitation or silent mockery of my earlier faux pas.
After lowering myself to the floor, I commando shimmied my way across the large area, peering under every item of furniture where my handbag might comfortably fit, and even into some spaces where it wouldn’t.
My hunt proved short but thorough. Stylish dark wood furniture became less overbearing against cream walls and sumptuous soft fabrics, but the complete lack of cupboards, drawers, and usual assorted knickknack clutter identified minimalist living as the ideal solution when a forgetful person couldn’t remember if they’d put something down where it didn’t belong.
The desire to continue to locate my stuff coupled with the chinking of plates and distant radio of someone else’s morning routine drew me to the bedroom door. I all- but-floated on silent sock-covered feet across luxury carpet and down the stairs.
The entrance hall presented another huge space without much in the way of furniture, except for an expensive-looking, expansive chest of drawers, pretty much perfect for hiding handbags—or bodies. I almost laughed at the insane direction of my thoughts. It’s only Mr. Brian. I’m safe with him.
I started towards it, but an oversized wedding photography canvas occupying acres of wall space captured my attention instead. My gaze skimmed across pale blue eyes devoid of celebratory sparkle and onto beautifully teased fairy-tale ringlets.
Some people. I had no clue why they transformed entire surfaces into costly, larger-than-life-size shrines to themselves. I brought my fingers to my lightly padded cheekbones in self-conscious comparison with the bride.
I flicked a glance back over the picture intrigued by the representation of beauty and idealism, and thoughts of finding my things came to a brain-jarring stop.
It was me.
She. Was. Me.
I didn’t recognise the perfection of the stylist-sculpted, milk-chocolate-toned hair or the smooth makeup concealing my smattering of freckles. It all looked far removed from my usual freshly washed, let’s go! appearance, and the forced smile in the photograph totally made my face appear plastic.
Yet it remained inarguably me.
I swayed, losing my balance, before sitting with a thump on the step. Okay. I clawed my thoughts together. A massive picture of me in my boss’s home coloured things a little differently. It’s only Mr. Brian. I’m safe with him.
As my manufactured confidence began to ebb, I spared a glance for the groom, finally able to notice one present at all, before peering closer. The man gazing at me with stark adoration in his devastating deep brown eyes was Mr. Brian.
WE HOPE THAT YOU ENJOYED CHAPTER ONE.
Want More? Get WHAT YOU WISH FOR Today And Enjoy !!!
From a magical land of castles and kings (Okay, it’s England), Gina doesn’t feel as old as she looks, owns three children who can’t be tamed, and writes in spare – usually stolen – time. She sometimes bakes—not always with quite the desired results, and has found the only solution to keeping the characters in her head quiet is to placate them with lots of other lovely books and worlds. She has been published by Decadent Publishing, who currently have two of her books, both of which are romance titles – “Her Dollmaker’s Desire” and “Her Undercover Christmas”.
🏵Social Media Links:
🏵Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/ginawriteswords/
🏵Twitter: @Gina_Wynn on Twitter
🏵Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2nN13Iz
🏵Goodreads Author Page: http://bit.ly/2oeZVbX
Thank you so much to The Awesome Participating Blogs , Authors and Fans YOU ARE THE BEST THANK YOU !!
*Bitches N’ Books
*Paranormal Romance Trance
*The Power of Three Readers
*Start Of Something New
*Artsy Book Lovin’ Sisters
*Joelle c rider
*Nana Prah, Author
*Brittany’s Book Blog
*Jo and Isa love books
*Paranormal Palace of Pleasures
*AC Squared Book Blog
*Lisa Everyday Life
DISCLAIMER AND COPYRIGHT DETAILS:
Chapter Excerpts reprinted here with the kind permission of Decadent Publishing for the What You Wish For Chapter Blog Tour.
Copyright Information is as follows:
What You Wish For Copyright © 2016 by Gina Wynn ISBN: 978-1-68361-168-4 Cover Art by Tibbs Designs
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC. Look for us online at: http://www.decadentpublishing.com
Copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.