Saturday, February 8, 2014

FALLEN ANGEL by Tracie Podger: Excerpt & Giveaway


Part I
On the first day of her holiday to Washington, DC, Brooke Stiles meets Robert Stone.
Dark eyed, damaged and dangerous - Stone has never had a normal relationship for fear of his past being exposed. Not knowing how to respect nor love, he struggles with his feelings for a woman who makes him question everything that he is.
Brooke falls in love with him and as their relationship grows she learns who he really is. Her future is set. She is to heal her man and mend his broken soul. But can she do the one thing that he asks?
This is a story of an ordinary woman who falls in love with an extraordinary man and has to discover whether she is strong enough to forgive him his past.

Excerpt from Chapter One:

“I’m glad you came, Brooke,” he said.

“I’m not sure you gave me much choice, Mr. Stone,” I replied.

He laughed a little, “Please, call me Robert.”  

“Well then, Robert, thank you for the invitation.  This is an amazing place,” I said, looking around.  He simply smiled.  

“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering for you, I trust you don’t mind,” he told me.  

To be honest, yes I did mind but I didn’t want to offend any more than I had to, so I smiled my thanks.  

“You seem nervous, Brooke,” he said.

Trying to hold his gaze, “Well, I, um,” I stumbled, not finding the words to explain I had never done this before, met someone for a couple of minutes and then agreed to dinner.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said, cutting short my answer.

I was a little unsure what to say.  How much does one divulge to a complete stranger, one that not only intrigued but also unsettled me.

“Well, I live in the UK obviously, in Kent.  I’m here on holiday and like Sam, I work in marketing but for an agency in London.  Sam and I have been friends since we were little and I haven’t seen him for a while so thought I would come and visit.” 

I really didn’t want to go into too much detail about why I was here, I tried to keep the conversation light.

“So where are you really from?  Your black hair, blue eyes and fair skin, that’s not typically British,” he asked, leaning slightly towards me.

“I don’t know.” I answered, uncomfortable with his scrutinising of me.  “Perhaps there’s a little Irish on my father’s side.  I must admit, I look nothing like my parents,” I replied, with a nervous chuckle.

The whole time I spoke he looked at me.  Even when our starter was laid in front of us, he picked up his fork and ate without taking his eyes from mine.  I found at first it was too hard to look back at him, to hold his stare but the more I spoke, the more I found I couldn’t look anywhere else.  

It was as if there was nothing else, just this table and Robert Stone.  Thinking back, I don’t believe I could even hear anything around me.  I didn’t notice the waiter remove my plate, replace it with another, replenish my glass.  It was as if time did not exist, just the moment.

Before I realised, we had finished our meal.  I can’t tell you what I ate but I know that I’d not stopped talking and he had hardly said a word.  How had he managed to get me to do that?  Being a reserved person, I don’t share what’s in my head but there I was, telling this stranger my life story.  I skipped the bits about why I was in DC but told him about my family, my job, my hobbies, pretty much everything else. It was as if his stillness, his quietness, could draw me out. 

At some point I seemed to run out of things to say and the air stilled around me.  It was suffocating and I had an urge to leave.  Perhaps he saw my discomfort because he folded his napkin and placed it on the table.

“Would you like to leave?” he asked, I nodded.

He held out his hand and led me from the restaurant.  It hadn’t dawned on me that there had been no bill, we’d simply walked straight out to the waiting car.  For the second time, I slid across the black leather seats and Robert spoke quietly to the driver.

“I would like to show you something, if you’re not in a rush to return home,” he said when he got into the car.

We drove a short distance to the office where Sam worked, the building Robert owned.  Arriving, we exited the car and walked into the foyer, past the security guards who seemed to stand to attention.  With his hand on my back, Robert guided me into the lift.  Again I felt that heat where his hand touched and that tingle across my skin.  I noticed a small key pad and watched as his fingers keyed in a code and the lift ascended, beyond the floors numbered.

The doors slid open into a reception so very different to the rest of the building.  The floor was a dark oak, a glass, abstract sculpture stood in the middle of the area and beyond a single, large door.   Taking a key, he opened it and we entered a penthouse apartment.  I was not ready for this.  I had no idea I would be taken back to the place I assumed he lived in, but I was totally blown away, it was stunning.  The walls were a stark white, a large black leather sofa dominated the lounge area and a sound system hung on the wall.  Walking to it, he pressed a button and music flowed through the whole apartment.  

One wall was completely glass, slightly tinted and I walked across and looked out.  The view was simply amazing.  Washington was spread out below me, the lights of the buildings, traffic, the White House in the distance, all shone in the night.  I could see for miles.

Robert moved behind me, again so silently it took me by surprise to see his reflection in the glass.  I felt like his prey and my nerves were on alert.  My heart hammered in my chest and my breath caught in my throat.  He stood directly behind me, I felt an immense heat radiating from him and a strange, magnetic pull towards him.  It was as if my muscles took on a will of their own and my body needed to be close to his.

“Thank you for spending your evening with me,” he whispered, his breath caressing the side of my neck.   “Do you like the view?  This is what I wanted to show you.”

He described some of the landmarks, leaning so close, his arm pointing over my shoulder.    All the time I looked at his reflection, at his mouth.  I wanted to taste him, to feel his lips on mine and it troubled me to feel, to think that way.

“It’s wonderful, do you live here?” I asked, forcing my eyes away from him, to the view.

“Not permanently, I have a house outside the city, Great Falls.  Perhaps you would like to visit.”

“Can I ask you something?” I said


“Why did you invite me to dinner?  I mean, you only met me for a couple of minutes really.  It’s a bit odd, don’t you think?”

“Not odd enough for you to refuse,” he replied, unsmiling.  “I met you, I wanted to know more about you.”

We fell silent, looking at the view below.  He lifted his hand and moved some hair from my shoulder exposing my neck.  Lowering his head, he placed a small kiss on the side, his eyes meeting mine in the reflection of the glass, a question in them.

I should have been outraged but I wasn’t, I just felt this immediate attraction to him.  A fire raged in the pit of my stomach, my heart missed a beat, fluttering in my chest and I felt my legs start to shake.  I wanted to lean back into him, to feel his body against mine.  All the time I faced the glass wall with him behind me, watching his reflection.

“I want you, Brooke,” he softly said.  I couldn’t answer, I felt entranced and all rational thought left my brain, leaving nothing but an overwhelming desire for him.  I gently nodded my head.

He unzipped my dress and it fell, crumpled to my feet leaving me standing in just my underwear and shoes.  I stepped out of the dress and wanted to turn to face him but he held my hips, keeping me still.  With one hand he ran his fingers up my spine sending shivers through my body.  His hands travelled over my shoulders and down my arms, holding them to my waist while his lips trailed a path from my neck to my ear.  I wanted to reach up, to run my hand through his hair, to touch him, but all the time he held me still.  

A small moan escaped my lips and I felt him smile at my response.  A burn started between my legs, my body was aching with desire for him.  One arm circled my waist and with the other he ran his fingers down my throat, over the top of my breasts and down my stomach.  

“Do you know what I want to do, Brooke? I want to watch you come and then I want to fuck you.”



Tracie currently lives in Kent, UK with her husband and a rather obnoxious cat called George. In between being a Padi Scuba Diving Instructor and a full time job, she's managed to, so far, write four books. She has been so fortunate to have dived some of the wonderful oceans of the world and it’s only under the water, amongst the fish that she feels the most relaxed - well, other than that time with the big, angry shark, but that’s another story.

Writing was something she was encouraged to do as part of her recovery from depression. At first it was journals until something caught her eye. An experience mixed with a bit of fiction became A Virtual Affair. The bug struck and after a series of dreams, Fallen Angel was born.

So far Tracie has written three books in the Fallen Angel series, a fourth is in the planning stages.



Tracie would like to give away 2 ebooks of Fallen Angel  

1 ebook for her all her readers and then 1 ebook for her UK readers only: