When I was growing up, we never bought anything that could be considered a gift unless we were hiding it away for Christmas. If you saw a scarf in a store window, you might hint at it to friends or family but you didn’t buy it lest Santa have it in mind for you. Necessities had to be purchased, of course, but nothing frivolous or extraneous. If your friends or family didn’t take the hint, well, you hoped the item you lusted after was on sale in January. So, starting in September, we began the season of wishing. It seems fitting then that Your Desire is the featured book for this month.
Wishing you all the joy of the upcoming holidays—the months will fly by!—and that you receive your desire!
Blurb:
Your Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold and the fantasy is fulfilled? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town…?
Amazon KU: https://www.amazon.com/Your-Desire-Dee-S-Knight-ebook/dp/B085HFRSQ9
Amazon print: https://www.amazon.com/Your-Desire-Dee-S-Knight/dp/1734761016
Excerpt:
“Where is the damn doctor?” His truculent tone was understandable but wearying just the same, after an hour of waiting for test results.
A fair portion of that time he’d spent talking via cell phone to someone named David. That’s all she’d heard of the conversations, except Frank’s tone, which was commanding. He was definitely a man used to giving orders.
Evidently David could also give a few. When she’d checked at the desk to ask what else needed to be done in the way of paperwork for admission, the clerk had told her everything was being handled. Not only had the tedious forms been taken care of and insurance approved, the X-ray and MRI results were being sent to Frank’s doctor’s computer in Washington so he could consult on treatment.
“The doctor will be here as soon as he knows something.” She gave him her best grim nurse’s look before remembering he couldn’t see her expression. Instead she patted his hand as though he were a child. “Stop being a baby. Everything that can be done is being done.”
Three different doctors had examined him in the time they’d been at the hospital, coming in, saying as little as possible, then leaving with a “Hmm.” She knew it was the lack of information that grated on Frank’s nerves more than anything else.
While the doctors checked him over, she’d examined him herself, with as little notice as possible. He was as handsome as any man she’d ever seen, but in a rugged way, contrary to the citified, expensive clothes he wore. There was a bump at the top of his nose indicating at least one break. Long luxurious lashes swept down and up each time he blinked, hiding then revealing beautiful hazel eyes. He was tall and very fit, muscled without an ounce of fat. Brown hair, nicely trimmed, sparkled with good health and care. In the bright glare of ER lights, his face didn’t look nearly so sharply angled as she’d thought earlier, but the stubble from a day’s growth of beard made him look dark and rough.
“Tell you what. Why don’t I go and get you some ice? You shouldn’t have anything to eat, but a little ice will be all right.”
“Ice?” He said it as though he couldn’t believe anyone in their right mind would suggest such a thing, but in the end he agreed.
Ten minutes later, she approached his cubicle with a cup filled with shaved ice. Weariness dragged at her with every step, and she could hardly wait until Frank was admitted so she could go home.
“Here comes Allison now. We’ll ask her.” His voice was loud enough to be heard throughout the ER. She slipped through the opening to see Frank sitting on the edge of the bed. Walter Neeley, the ophthalmologist, stood in front of him. Mike stood apart, his arms crossed over the metal cover of the hospital chart held tightly against his chest. His face was serious but a look of mischievous glee colored his eyes as he observed the verbal sparring between the two men. Beside him stood Richard Matthews, head of neurology, who nodded a greeting to her.
“Ask Allison what?” She knew she’d have to referee something, based on the bull-headed expressions of both doctor and patient. Frank and Walt had already turned toward the opening in the curtains when she slipped in. This damn noisy dress.
“I want to hold Mr. Hughes overnight. He refuses. Says he’ll be all right at your house.” Walt Neeley arched a brow at her. “As he’s your friend, perhaps you can convince him that it’s in his own best interests to be admitted for the night.”
Unconsciously, she moved to stand beside Frank, touching his hand to let him know she was there. His head followed her every movement. “Actually he’s not my fr—”
“Tell him there’s no need for me to remain here overnight, Allison. If he’d give me something for this damn headache, I’d be fine. Well, if I could see, that is.” He practically growled out the last.
“They can’t give you anything that will make you sleep.”
“But it hurts like hell.”
“I know, but buck up,” she stage-whispered.
He snorted and turned away.
“Actually, Frank,” she stated in her most persuasive tone, “it is in your best interest to stay here. If anything should happen, the staff and equipment you need will be here.”
“No.”
Damn it! She couldn’t take him home. Besides the obvious medical risks, there was the unsettled feeling she experienced around him. It was unreasonable, but there, nonetheless. Why wouldn’t the obstinate man allow them to admit him so she could go home alone to her safe and ordered life.
“Mr. Hughes.”
Frank turned his head, his recalcitrant expression carved in stone.
“You don’t seem to realize the seriousness of your condition. You have a contusion, and as Nurse Hayes suggested, that’s bad enough. But if the swelling of your brain worsens during the night, you’ll need care she can’t give you at home.”
Frank seemed to consider this. “Dr. Matthews, is it?” He asked but continued without waiting for confirmation. “I think I do understand the seriousness of my condition. If you and the staff here haven’t explained it thoroughly enough, my own doctor, after examining the test results you sent, has told me plainly that I’m a jackass if I leave here tonight. However, he’s well aware of my nature and knows I’m a man used to taking judicious risks. I trust Ms. Hayes. She’s a well-trained nurse, is she not?”
“This has nothing to do with Allison’s capabilities,” spit out Walt Neeley. “This has to do with your welfare and the liability of the hospital if you leave and something happens.”
She sighed, knowing the men could butt heads all night without resolution. “What about the blindness?”
Walt spoke. “As far as we can tell, the problem is trauma-induced and will resolve itself when the swelling goes down. Tonight he’ll have to be checked every two hours.”
“Allison will do that.” Frank didn’t give the slightest intimation that she might say no.
She looked at him, really looked at him. He acted the tyrant, totally commanding, used to having every whim fulfilled and order followed without question. But there was an odd hesitance under it all. She’d noticed the characteristic earlier, too, when they were making their way out of the pasture. Discomfort, almost fear.
His hands fisted on his legs, his brows puckered ever so slightly in worry. Other than those tells, no one would know he wasn’t the controlling force he pretended to be. Maybe only she saw he had the false bravado of a man used to being in charge, suddenly finding himself at the mercy of fate. If so, she might not understand his attitude but she wouldn’t betray him.
She tried one more approach. “What if I stayed with you? I’d be here each time the nurse woke you up.”
He shook his head. “If you won’t take me home I’ll call my assistant. He’ll come down immediately and we’ll drive back to DC tonight.”
Walt Neeley threw his hands up and snorted in disbelief. Frank’s lips turned up in a tiny smile, probably secure in the knowledge that he’d presented an alternative worse than going home with her.
Mike gave a one-shouldered shrug when she glanced at him. “I strongly advise he be admitted.” Frank opened his mouth to speak, but Mike cut him off. “If he insists on going, we can’t stop him. You’re one of the people I’d entrust him to. If you want him, of course.”
All four men waited to hear her judgment. “I suppose he could sleep on the sofa in the office. I wouldn’t want him climbing the stairs.” She spoke out loud, but more to herself, reasoning what to do. “I can get him back here very quickly if need be.”
“Good.” Frank spoke as though her decision had been a foregone conclusion all along. His hands relaxed on his thighs.
Reviews:
“I loved this book, each story was beautiful, romantic, and filled with very hot sex.” 5 stars
“If you’re looking for a spicy escape from your everyday life, pick up Your Desire today. It’ll heat your body and singe your soul. Highly recommend!” 4.5 stars
A little about me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.
After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for my newsletter and have access to free reads.
Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K
