In the Spotlight: Serena Fairfax
New Release: Loving That Feeling
Seared by a bigamous love cheat, London designer Deborah Tremaine backs off sex. But when wealthy Serbian Zoran Pavlović, who wants to demolish an art deco cinema she’s campaigning to save, crosses her path she’s up for a fling.
Zoran has clawed his way out of Serbia’s turbulent past but believes his background means he find happiness simply because he can’t trust a woman to cherish him for who he is—a Serb. But he’s a hot-blooded Slav up for no-strings sex and Deborah sends him into overdrive.
Deborah’s finances are in meltdown when a customer goes bust. Zoran dangles a business deal based in Belgrade, Serbia that she can’t refuse. She’s confident the job won’t compromise the campaign and decides that Zoran is the guy who can jump-start her love life.
They embark on a sizzling affair but tension, erotically sexual and work related, skyrockets. Incidents trigger the revelation of their personal demons. Can they escape the black holes?
How many books do you currently have published?
What is the next book you have releasing?
It’s under contract and will be released in the Spring
What book are you writing right now?
Work in progress is still in my imagination
What is your favorite type of Hero/Heroine to write about? Why?
I like writing about flawed by noble characters as they’re the most interesting
What is the hardest part of writing for you?
This must be research
Advice for aspiring and new writers?
Write, re-write and re-write. Read, read, read. Don’t give up.
Do you have any rituals for Book Release Day?
Not at all. Don’t believe in mumbo jumbo!
What author are you dying to meet? OR What author have you met that you had a fan girl/guy moment?
I’d love to meet John Grisham as I’m a great fan.
How would your spouse or best friend describe you in three words?
Mad, bad and dangerous to know.
What was the last movie you went to see?
The Grand Budapest Hotel
If you were an animal what kind of animal would you be and why?
At university I was called hamster. I expect it’s because I was found to be cuddly.
What is your favorite quote ever?
‘There ain’t no sin, and there ain’t no virtue. There’s just stuff.’ John Steinbeck – The Grapes of Wrath
If you could be a superhero, what would you want your super powers to be?
I’d like to be invisible.
What song is on your iPod/Mp3/Stereo right now?
Walk The Line
Favorite place to curl up with a good book?
In the bath
The Good Stuff:
If you had to pick one item to bring to the bedroom with you what would it be?
A bottle of vintage champagne
What feature on the opposite sex attracts you the most?
Sense of humour and wit.
What actor/actress would you be willing to run away from your life for?
You can’t run away from your life.
If you had a warning label, what would it say?
Danger! Live wires!
Ko je ta zena? “Who is that woman?” Zoran Pavlović trained his binoculars on the pigeon-haunted roof of the derelict cinema, his eyes zoning in on the endless blue-jeaned legs, the wind-blown auburn hair, the high, full breasts jutting against the thin fabric of her sherbet-lemon T-shirt. She was primetime. A hardening heat coiled through his groin.
“That’s Deborah Tremaine, sir, the interior designer who’s spearheading the campaign.” His aide sweated nervously in the summer sunshine. “I think we ought to…”
“I think,” Zoran said and dealt him a trenchant glance, “you should leave the thinking to me. I want you to stay here and monitor this lunatic fringe.”
Nice view, Zoran muttered as he assessed his options for handling her. She was brandishing a crimson flag emblazoned with the purple slogan Save Our Heritage Now! having scaled the ladder hauled into place by her supporters. Singing “We Will Overcome,” they’d blockaded the bulldozers and charmed the guard dogs into shadows with choice chunks of meat.
Zoran sprang from the Land Rover, a powerful body in black— denims, T-shirt, trainers—and cut a swift path over the rubble. Tipped off that activists planned to stage a long sit-in, they’d already spiked redevelopment for months—months that left him seriously out of pocket. It couldn’t go on, it wouldn’t go on. Action was imperative—action that would be characterised as friendly persuasion in his native Serbia, although possibly something quite else in England—but he’d ride out the storm. He’d ridden out worse.
“Quite the warrior princess, Boadicea,” he murmured as, storming the treads, he scaled the parapet with spider-like agility. He flicked her a cool, controlled gaze, his belly knotting as he registered the luminosity of her skin, the scent of lavender shampoo in the shining cloud of hair, eyes of lapis blue, a soft mouth that promised so much.
“I’m Zoran Pavlović. We haven’t met before…”
Their eyes swerved together and held, and suddenly Deborah’s heart was drumming with the most primitive sexual charge. She felt like melting ice, lost and floating in a warm flood. As the sensuous amber-richness of his cologne infused her senses, a wave of entrapment clutched her and she inched away. “I’m sure I’d remember if we had.”
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