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Untrue Colors
By: Veronica Forand
Releasing March 9th, 2015
Entangled Publishing
She’s
on the run…
Brilliant art appraiser Alex Northrop’s ex used stolen art to fund his nefarious activities. Now he wants her dead. But it isn’t just herself she’s worried about – if he discovers who she really is, he’ll kill her family.
Professor Henry Chilton is shocked to find a beautiful stranger passed out in his bed, and even more so when she reveals a priceless painting is a forgery – the painting he’d planned to use to fund a woman’s shelter. She’s mysterious and frightened, and he is determined to discover why.
Alex's knowledge of art is undeniable—just as Henry’s attraction to her is irresistible. But in order to help him recover the real painting, Alex isn't just risking exposure...she's risking her life.
Brilliant art appraiser Alex Northrop’s ex used stolen art to fund his nefarious activities. Now he wants her dead. But it isn’t just herself she’s worried about – if he discovers who she really is, he’ll kill her family.
Professor Henry Chilton is shocked to find a beautiful stranger passed out in his bed, and even more so when she reveals a priceless painting is a forgery – the painting he’d planned to use to fund a woman’s shelter. She’s mysterious and frightened, and he is determined to discover why.
Alex's knowledge of art is undeniable—just as Henry’s attraction to her is irresistible. But in order to help him recover the real painting, Alex isn't just risking exposure...she's risking her life.
Alex grieved as she looked toward the Louvre for possibly the last
time. She had no choice but to leave Paris and the sublime treasures forming
its artistic soul. Overhearing Luc’s plan to celebrate their four-month
anniversary by murdering her set off her own plan of running as far away from
him as possible.
What began as a fairytale romance had
morphed into a traumatic descent into hell. Luc had no problem stealing fine
art and artifacts and using Alex’s expertise in appraisals to dupe art
collectors and even small countries of their valuable assets. She had huge
problems with those things.
While
his main henchman, Pascal, drove them through Paris, Luc held her hand in the
back of the Mercedes like they were still lovers. They appeared perfect for
each other, a rich art collector and the young art appraiser who had fallen
head over heels for him. Rugged good looks combined with an enormous amount of
wealth made him an ideal catch for a woman who didn’t mind being beaten into
submission. Alex minded.
Dressed
in a thousand dollar suit and wearing a sophisticated five o’clock shadow
across his chiseled features, Luc seemed headed out for a night at the theater,
not on the way to eliminate his girlfriend. Alex leaned away from him. She
needed to get away. His free hand caressed her arm, rubbed her shoulder, and
pulled her back toward him. Moving slowly, seductively, he wrapped his fingers
around her neck and started to squeeze. He stared at her, his eyes neither
narrowing nor widening, only observing her reaction.
“I
promise I won’t tell anyone. I swear it.” She pleaded for her life, speaking
French, the only language they’d ever spoken to each other. As his hand
tightened with her words, she gasped and struggled for breath.
Luc
pulled her face closer to his. His lips pinched together, causing the muscles
in his neck to tense. “Liar.”
The
more she struggled to pull away, the more his grip tightened. No longer able to
inhale, her eyes watered and her life began to fade. With nothing left to lose,
she struck out at his face. He released her, but slapped her ear so hard, her
head flew into the door. The pain ricocheted through her skull, leaving her
numb for a moment.
She
glanced out the window and saw salvation. As Pascal slowed for a turn, she
opened the door and jumped. Her Chanel suit acted as her only protection when
she hit the ground and bounced onto the road. Asphalt scraped her skin with
each rotation until she slammed into the curb. Pain rebelled in ribs not yet
healed from her fall down Luc’s marble stairway. Car brakes screeched nearby.
In seconds, they would be on her. She hobbled to her feet, sucking in huge
breaths.
Alex
merged into the manic crowd entering the Gare du Nord at rush hour. She dodged
men and women in suits, groups of school children, and what felt like hundreds
of tourists. With her passports tucked in a travel belt under her skirt and
several hundred euros in her possession, she boarded the high-speed train for
London and prayed he wouldn’t follow her.
A Bostonian by birth, Veronica
Forand regrettably lost her Boston accent while moving from state to state and
country to country. Cleveland probably had the most profound effect on her
ability to pronounce the “r” in the word “park.”
She does try to return now and
then to visit family and eat long neck clams and lobster. Summers on Cape Cod
are also high on the priority list.
Her experience in crime involves
time as a court appointed attorney. Eventually, she switched fields to where
bigger crimes take place, corporate tax. The allure of spending mornings in her
pajamas homeschooling her children and writing fascinating fiction caused her
to change careers again. Now that the kids are out of the house (in school),
she writes romantic thrillers by day and is the perfect wife and mother at
night.
Her experience in romance is
limited to one man. Luckily, he’s still finding ways to charm her by taking her
on vacations to the south of France, Fiji, and the Green Mountains when time is
short. Avid travelers, they love to roam with their kids across continents in
pursuit of skiing, scuba diving, and the perfect piece of chocolate.
She’s lived in London, Paris,
Geneva, Washington D.C., and the accent destroying city of Cleveland. She
currently resides near Philadelphia.
Thank you for hosting UNTRUE COLORS!
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