Thursday, December 11, 2014

#CharacterInterview Vera Rios on her Hero to Swoon For from AROUSED by Jade Kerrion #romance

Next up is Vera Rios, from Jade Kerrion’s AROUSED. Here’s what she has to say about Rowan.

“Oh, he’s so easy on the eyes, but it’s just his stock in trade, as he would say. He has style and confidence without coming across as arrogant or brash. But what makes Rowan unforgettable is his absolute focus on me. When he looks at me, I know I’m the only woman he sees and that there is no one else for him…no one else he wants or loves more.”

Aroused is Book #1 in Heroes to Swoon For Boxed Set: 11 Sizzling Contemporary Romances

We all need a hero! Preferably a hot, muscled, romantic one who's not afraid to fight for the woman he loves. From firefighters to athletes, and artists to rockers, these swoon-worthy heroes will keep you on your toes and weak in your knees. Slip into a reading adventure that will have you panting for more: fun, steam, and thrills.

Authors include:

Jade Kerrion, Chantel Rhondeau, 
Rachelle Ayala, Lyssa Lane,
Michele Shriver, P.C. Zick, K.S. Thomas,
Stacy Eaton, Melinda Curtis, Jennifer
Saints, and Julie Leto

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Vera stared at her makeup kit and wish she had thought about refreshing her makeup earlier. Perhaps covered with war paint, she could have carried on the beautiful woman illusion a little further, but she had forgotten to do so in the chaos of preparing a last-minute meal. Too late now. Still, she reached for her lip gloss and swiped the pale red hue on her lips. A woman, any woman, needed to be as prepared as possible when talking to a man like Rowan, whose most lethal weapon was his slow, devastating smile.
She peeked in on Allison one more time—her daughter had already kicked off her covers—before heading downstairs. The first two things she saw were the wiped-down table and the empty sink. The dishwasher was running a cycle. “Can I keep you?” were the first words out of her mouth.
“Hmm?” Rowan looked up from his seat on the couch. “Oh, the kitchen. I live alone. No one’s going to pick up after me, so I’ve gotten used to cleaning up after myself. Besides, ‘you cook, I clean’ seemed like a fair deal.”
When was the last time a man had said, “You cook, I clean,” instead of “You cook, you clean”? Why did her perfect man have to be an escort, damn it? Vera curled her hands into fists, mostly to keep herself from reaching out to him. “Rowan, we need to talk.”
“You’ve got that frown between your eyes again.” He patted the seat next to him. “Sit. We’ll talk.”
Vera opted for the far end of the couch. It seemed safer.
Or so it seemed, until he leaned over, tugged off her sneakers and socks, and then lifted her bare feet onto the couch. He scooted back against the other end of the couch. It allowed her to fully extend her legs so they rested on his lap.
She swallowed hard. “What are you doing?”
“I was reading a novel from your bookshelf. I confess I’m struggling to get the point of literary fiction.” He pulled out a small bottle from his pocket and set it on the side table. Gently holding her left foot, he rotated her ankle clockwise and then counterclockwise, before devoting similar attention to each toe. He tugged on her toes with just enough light pressure for her to realize how cramped her feet had been in her shoes.
“Hmm?” She glanced up and realized she was so fixated by the way his hands moved her foot that she had forgotten to respond to him. What was the question?
He released her foot long enough to squeeze some lotion from the bottle into his hands. He clasped both hands over the lotion for a moment to warm it up before applying it over her foot in long strokes. A soft lavender fragrance drifted up to her as he took her foot in both hands and walked his thumbs back and forth over the sole. His thumbs pushed deep, working the pressure points. “Literary fiction. I see you’re into it.”
Her head fell back against the armrest of the couch. Literary what? Her brain felt as sharp as cotton, but she struggled to reply. “Yes, I…I like reading.”
“Well, so do I, but I prefer crime thrillers and mysteries. Who’s your favorite author?”
Oh, God. What was he doing to her? Her left foot was in heaven as he moved his thumbs in semicircles beneath the ball of her foot, working back and forth horizontally. Who knew she had that many nerve endings in her foot? “Mmm.”
“Who’s that?” His voice, a beautiful baritone, was as soothing as a lullaby. “It doesn’t ring any bells. I gather he, or she, is not American?” He placed his thumbs on opposite sides of her sole, under her toes, and slid them toward each other and to the opposite side of her foot. He shifted slightly down and reversed the motion, creating a delightful flow of sensation down her foot, all the way to her heel.
“Mmm Ohhh?” he asked. “I definitely don’t recognize that name.”
The blatant amusement in his voice sparked something in her head, but not enough to motivate her into wringing a coherent reply from the mush that was her brain. She had to grip the sides of the couch to stop herself from writhing.
Rowan’s chuckle was a low, warm sound as he interlaced his fingers and rested them on the top of her foot. His thumbs pressed against her sole as he slid his hands up and down its entire length.
The stimulation wrecked her willpower. “Oh, God.” She arched against his hands. It was just a simple foot massage; how could it turn her on in such an intense way?
“You have lovely feet,” he murmured. “And such amazing reactions.” He placed his fingertips in the channels between her toes and gently slid all four fingers up and down between them. “I wish I knew what you were thinking and feeling.”
I don’t ever want this to stop. I don’t ever want you to go away.


Jade Kerrion writes at 3 a.m. when her husband and three sons are asleep. Her award-winning, best-selling science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance novels aspire to make her readers as sleep-deprived as she is.


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