Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Blog Tour Stop: THE PEARL TRILOGY by Arianne Richmonde



Documentary producer, Pearl Robinson, is a beautiful and smart 40-year-old divorcee but has not had a date for over two years. When she meets Alexandre Chevalier, a young French, Internet success story, she's stunned by his charm, beauty and sophistication, and startled by her strong feelings and desire for a man fifteen years her junior. 

His looks, wealth and worldwide triumph with his social media site, HookedUp, means this powerful billionaire can get any woman he chooses, but there is something about Pearl he finds irresistible...

The couple begins a passionate affair and Pearl's body is awakened in ways she never imagined possible. She is consumed by him and his magical touch. But jealous family members, Pearl's insecurities and other external forces are threatening to pull them apart.

This three-book series, Forty Shades of Pearl, Shadows of Pearl and Shimmers of Pearl follow the couple's tumultuous and heart-rending relationship. 

Will Pearl's shadowy past and Alexandre's dark secrets meld them together as one, or split them apart once and for all?



It’s both a comforting and disconcerting fact that there’s a franchise coffee shop on practically every corner of NYC. You don’t have to go far to feed your addiction. I shuffle through the door, now back in my sneakers – New York City sidewalks do not favor high heels for any period of time. You can tell how long someone has been living in New York by their footwear. Comfort first. Heels are for visitors. Or women from New Jersey.
       I stand in line and ponder over the rich choice I am presented with. A wave of guilt washes over me as I mentally tot up the money I’ve spent on superfluous coffee breaks over the years – money needed by charities, for water wells somewhere, for a child’s education. Stop! Life isn’t fair. Yum, Mocha Cookie Delight...coffee blended with mocha sauce, vanilla syrup, chocolaty chips, milk and ice. Or a Vanilla Cappuccino - coffee flavored with vanilla and blended with milk and ice – and fewer calories.

      A man’s voice interrupts my chocolaty train of thought. 

      “So how did you enjoy the conference?” His accent is foreign, his voice deep and melodic.

      I look up, feeling now dwarfed in my flat sneakers, petite against his tall, solid frame. The first thing I notice, at eye level, is the definition of his pec muscles underneath his sun-faded, pale blue T-shirt. He’s tanned; I see he has a name tag just like mine from the InterWorld conference, which reads: Alexandre Chevalier. My gaze rises higher and I observe a pair of penetrating peridot-green eyes rimmed with dark lashes, friendly yet intense, looking down at me. His hair is dark, his face unmistakably European - yes, dare I say it, he even looks French, the profile of his nose strong, the jaw defined. He’s so handsome I feel a frisson shoot up my spine. He’s smiling at me. My stomach flips. I’m speechless with surprise.

      “Your name tag,” he clarifies. “Were you at that conference around the corner?”

      “Yes, I was.” I can’t say any more. I feel like a teenager. My mind is doing acrobatics, trying to figure out why his presence makes no sense at all. This man must have borrowed the tag of the real Alexandre Chevalier. Why?

      He’s at the front of the line, now, talking in French to another woman. She looks familiar. I feel an inexplicable pang of jealousy. Absurd! I don’t even know him. Get a grip! But then realize−    
  “I’ll pay for whatever this lady’s having too,” he tells the woman serving behind the counter, and he pulls out a wad of notes. I notice a stash of hundred dollar bills which he is trying to surreptitiously stuff back into his jeans’ pocket, without drawing attention to himself. 

      He turns back to me and looks at my name tag. “For Pearl,” he adds, rolling his tongue around the R of Pearl.  

      My name suddenly sounds beautiful, not like a pseudonym a hooker might use, which is what I was relentlessly teased for in high school.        

      “Pearl,” he says again. “What a beautiful name. I’ve never heard that before. As a name, I mean.”

      “Well, my parents were kind of hippies. Thanks for the compliment, though. I’ll have a....a...um, I’ll have a vanilla cappuccino, please. You really don’t have to do that - buy me my drink, I mean.”   

      I fumble about in my ‘handbag’ - although it seems more like an overnight bag - and try to locate my wallet. I’m not used to strangers buying me drinks. My fingers can’t seem to find my wallet, anyway. I often fantasize about inventing an inside handbag light that switches on automatically whenever you open it – I’d make millions – they’d be sold at supermarket checkouts nationwide. My bag is pitch dark inside, I can see nothing. 

      “And what’s your name?” I ask, still not believing that this man before me is Alexandre Chevalier, the twenty-four year-old nerd in the hoodie, as he appeared in the online photo. This Alexandre is sophisticated – looks way older than that. Even though he’s just in T-shirt and jeans, he’s stylish. Very Alpha Male - yet oozing je ne sais quoi. I could describe him as ‘beautiful’ but he is so much more than that. There is an aura surrounding him of power and sexuality yet blended with an unassuming sort of friendliness as if his good looks are accidental somehow.    

      He laughs. His teeth flash white and are almost, but not quite - perfect. An almost perfect, ever so slightly, crooked smile - disconcertingly sexy. “Very funny,” he replies tapping his long fingers on his Alexandre Chevalier name tag.  “Oh, this is my sister, Sophie.” 

      The Sophie sounds like Soffy. His accent is disarming me. I think of those classic, 1960’s French films - Alain Delon movies - yes, he does have that air about him - a young Alain Delon - mixed with the raw, untamed sex-appeal of Jean Paul Belmondo in his prime – What was that film? Ah yes, À Bout de Souffle - Breathless was its translation. That’s how I feel now…   



Arianne Richmonde is an American writer and artist who was raised in both the US and Europe. She is the author of Forty Shades of Pearl, Shadows of Pearl and Shimmers of Pearl, all full length novels in The Pearl Trilogy. She has also written Glass- an erotic short story. She is currently writing a new novel, a suspense.

She lives with her husband and furry family in France.



40 Shades of Pearl Playlist:

Emmanuelle - Pierre Bachelet and Herve Roy Rumor - Come To Me High
Air by Bach
The Rolling Stones - Under My Thumb
Erik Satie - Gymnopeědie No.1
Etta James - At Last
Freědeěric Chopin - Prelude in E-Minor Goldfrapp - Black Cherry
Sinead O’Connor (written by Prince) - Nothing Compares 2U
Julie London - Black Coffee
James Brown - Sex Machine
Bob Marley - Is This Love?
Louis Armstrong - What A Wonderful World Madonna - Crazy For You
Simon and Garfunkel - Mrs. Robinson
Beyonce - If I Were A Boy
Carly Simon - You’re So Vain
Jane Birkin et Serge Gainsbourg - Je T’Aime Moi Non Plus 
To listen to the Forty Shades of Pearl soundtrack http://ariannerichmonde.com/music/forty-shades-of-pearl-sound-track/

Shadows of Pearl Playlist

Brahms - Lullaby
Sarah Vaughn - Autumn in New York
The Eagles - Hotel California
The Beach Boys - Surfin’ USA
Neneh Cherry - Woman
Frank Sinatra - Witchcraft
Katy Perry - I Kissed a Girl and I Like It
John Denver (Sung by Chantal Kreviazuk) - Leaving on a Jet Plane
The Rolling Stones - She’s a Rainbow
Billie Holiday - Foolin’ Myself
To listen to the Shadows of Pearl soundtrack http://ariannerichmonde.com/music/shadows-of-pearl-of-pearl-sound-track/

Shimmers of Pearl Playlist

Patsy Cline - Sweet Dreams
Gloria Gaynor - I Will Survive Michael Jackson - Ben
One Direction - Little Things
Carly Simon - Nobody Does It Better Kim - Mon Ami
The Beatles - Here Comes The Sun Edith Piaf - Non, Je ne Regrette Rien Frank Sinatra - Young At Heart David Bowie - Starman
To listen to the Shimmers of Pearl soundtrack http://ariannerichmonde.com/music/shimmers-of-pearl-sound-track/


                  $50 Amazon or BN Gift Card plus 10 copies of Glass—a short erotic story