It’s finally here ♥♥♥
“Their Bond through Jade” was probably the toughest story to write and at the same time is my favourite one. It was written during a time when I needed to escape reality … what a better place than New Zealand.
But it was also the story when something could go wrong with it, did go wrong.
If you stop by on a regular basis, you might remember Tiffany and Mat’s story. It is now available on pre-order. Come on over, do the “one click” and let me take you to the wonderful country of New Zealand – for only 99c ♥♥
~~ Their Bond Through Jade ~~
by Iris Blobel
AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/2yZPHSL
AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B077L3HRVQ/
AMAZON AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B077L3HRVQ/
♥♦♥ BLURB ♥♦♥
Pikorua, the Maori name for the symbol, is a twist that is said to symbolise the strength of the bond between two people. Mat is certain there is something between Tiffany and him.
When Tiffany Cahill opens the door to the police, memories flood her mind of the previous year and a relationship gone bad. Frightened, she calls her friend, Steve, for help, but instead a stranger answers the phone. Little does Tiffany know how much this New Zealander is going to impact her life, especially after she is assaulted only a few hours later.
Mat Apanui, the owner of a helicopter tour company in New Zealand, can’t ignore the worry in Tiffany’s voice when he answers Steve’s phone. Before he knows it, he is spending most of his business trip to Melbourne with her. Desperate to keep her safe after an attack, he invites her to stay with him in Queenstown, NZ.
With her safety at risk, how will Tiffany overcome her reservations and trust the sexy stranger enough to fly across the Tasman Sea?
♥♦♥ EXCERPT ♥♦♥
When Tiffany Cahill opened the door and laid eyes on the police officers, memories flooded back of the horrid day the year before when she’d been dragged to the police station. Everything inside her tensed as she checked the lever for the screen door to make sure it was locked. She rubbed her damp palms against her pants.
“Miss Cahill?” the male police officer asked, his dark brown eyes focussing on her.
Scared, she wasn’t able to find her voice, she bit her lip and simply nodded.
“Miss Tiffany Cahill?” the female, and younger, officer asked.
Tiffany nodded again. If she focussed on the officer’s flaming red hair beneath her cap, she wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. But she allowed herself a cautious peek at the officers’ faces.
Their expressions were unreadable, which was worrying.
“I’m Senior Constable Jones. This is Sergeant Harris.” The officer paused for a moment. “We would like to ask you a couple of questions in regard to Thomas Terrill.”
“Who?” Tiffany asked, hardly above a whisper. Her whole body shook, and she knew she had to sit down soon or she’d faint.
“Thomas Terrill,” Jones repeated. “He was up on charges last year for the possession of drugs. The file states you were involved—”
“There’s no way I’ll come with you.” Her voice was louder than intended, panic rising within her. “You can’t make me—”
“Miss Cahill,” Jones said with a calm voice.
“We’re not here to take you with us, but to ask you a few questions,” Sergeant Harris explained, pulling out a little notepad from his shirt pocket, opening it with an expert snap. “Is there anybody with you at home?”
Tiffany frowned as she shook her head. Anxiety raced through the pit of her stomach, and she had to resist the urge to step back to shut the door.
“Anybody you can call?”
His voice was soothing, and when Tiffany met his eyes through the screen door, she noticed something that conveyed trust. And there was a need inside her to trust him, yet every fibre in her told her to not open the door. Never again would she let the police take her to the station and treat her like a criminal.
She bit her lip again, desperate to figure out whom to call, when she replied, “My brother.”
Harris nodded. “Thomas Terrill was charged with possession of drugs last year. You are noted as a witness.” He paused, checked his little notepad, and continued, “He’s also known as Hudson Ford.”
Leaning her head against the door, Tiffany took a deep breath to steady herself.
“Are you okay, Miss Cahill?” Harris asked.
“Please open the door,” Jones requested.
Holding up her hand, Tiffany replied, “I haven’t seen him since last year. I have nothing to do with whatever trouble he’s in.” Her entire body trembled, anxiety rushing through her like a tidal wave. She took another two deep breaths before standing straight to meet Harris’ gaze.
He searched her eyes before he assented with a nod and held out a business card. “We need to talk to you. I can assure you you’re not in trouble, but we need your help.” He squeezed the card into the small gap of the doorframe. “This is my number. Please call in when you have somebody with you, and we can have a talk.”
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