Liz Everly is
a passionate cook, writer, and traveler. Exploring food and romance in Saffron
Nights, Liz combines her lifelong love of action-packed romance with her
culinary expertise. She loves to interact with readers. Please follow her on
Twitter, check out her website.
You can also find her on Facebook and blogging. Liz will be awarding organic saffron and cedar bath gel and handmade soap to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour (US ONLY).Blurb:
Wherever they travel, there’s an aphrodisiac waiting to whet their
appetites…
Brazil…Hawaii…India….As a food writer, Maeve has just been handed the
hottest opportunity of her career. She’s being sent on an international
research tour for an aphrodisiac cookbook. The downside is that she has to
travel with rock star photographer and womanizer Jackson Dodds. And the upside
is that she has to travel with Jackson Dodds. Because once they meet, Maeve understands
why he’s been named “America’s Most Eligible Bachelor”—and despite her best
intentions, all she can think about is putting their arousing recipes to the
test…
Sexy and talented, Jackson can have any woman he desires. But lately,
the thrill is gone—until he lays eyes on Maeve, who exudes sensuality like no
one else. She’s determined to keep things professional, but he knows the
attraction is mutual. And as they travel the world, sampling warming saffron,
juicy papaya, silky avocado, rare herbs and teas—and a mushroom whose very
aroma sends women to heights of ecstasy—both discover a hunger they’ve never
known, and don’t want to resist, even amid unexpected danger…
Excerpt:
She acted like she didn’t even know he was there. He watched
her full lips curve around the spoon as she stared intently into the bowl. What
would they feel like on him? She was not paying one ounce of attention to him,
so he let his eyes linger on her toes. They were simply perfect toes, topped
off with a splash of bright feminine pink, and her feet looked porcelain smooth
and inviting. But he held back. Christ—what if a woman like this did respond to
him and then it went horribly bad, as most of his affairs had? They might be
stuck together on some godforsaken mountain in India or Italy and be miserable.
So, he held his breath, while his heart raced, but kept his
eyes on her feet and slurped the stew. After all, this was his career. He
couldn’t risk it—even for Maeve. Especially for Maeve.
“What are you doing, Jackson?” She said and took another
bite.
“Eating soup and, ah, looking at your toes. They, ah, look
really good,” he said.
“Maybe you need some coffee, Jackson,” Maeve said, laughing.
“Sorry, I just never knew that you had such pretty feet,” he
said and smiled.
“Well, you’re using that word a lot. Pretty. You’re barking
up the wrong tree if—”
“We work together,” Jackson stammered. “You know, I should
never have mentioned how pretty you feet are. Or how pretty you are, period.
I’m sorry.”
What was happening to him? Usually so confident, here he was
stammering around Maeve like a schoolboy.
He held the bowl up to his mouth to drink the last drop, his
tongue licking his lips in utter abandonment.
He held up his fingers and wiggled. “You don’t know this
about me, but I give an incredible foot massage.”
She slammed her bowl down. “Are you coming on to me?”
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