In Light of Shadows #1
Camellia Hart
Publication date: April 5th 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Author Camellia Hart’s debut contemporary romance novel about a man and a woman whose lives are about to get sizzling hot…
The
Book Junkie Reads . . . Review of Chasing Eva (In Light of Shadows, #1)
Sizzle, sizzle, burn, burn. There was intensity. Clive and Eva had some suspenseful and suspense filled moments both in and out of the bedroom/boardroom. Life runs its owe course and draws in those at will Eva falls victim to life and that which was planned by a parent.
Life takes on turns and up heaves for the young Eva. She leaves her life to live the one that her father left her. This all thrust her back into the life of Clive. Will he help her or hurt her? Things were just a big roller coaster ride from here to there.
I enjoyed Camellia Hart's first offering. I would most certainly like more of Eva and Clive. I found this to be a fun, sexy, yet touches of suspense and intrigue floating. There was enough there to keep me turning pages and moving forward. I want more of several of the secondary characters. They kept things moving along.
BLURB
After living through her share of
disloyal relationships, Evangeline Avery will be damned if she lets another man
cheat her. A beautiful and confident woman, Eva is the owner of an interior
design firm at the brink of collapse. She swears to bring her company back to
its past glory, even if it involves sweet talking the one man who caused this
turmoil in the first place – Clive Stanton.
Notorious playboy Clive Stanton
is a powerful businessman and a formidable enemy of many. He doesn’t do love,
or at least not until he meets her again, fifteen years after he saw her last.
Eva, his crush from teenage years, the one that got away, is back in his world
and he is determined to do anything to make her his.
Will passion and lust bring them
together or conflict and the unforgettable scars from their pasts forever tear
them apart?
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Links:
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Read Chapter 1:
Downtown
San Francisco
“You look happy.”
Eva’s
gaze darted to the tabloid vendor standing by her side. Despite the numerous
times her best friend, Izzy, made her and her other best friend, Ali, visit the
book stand outside of the subway station in the past two months, this was the
first time the vendor had spoken to Eva. Maybe because she hadn’t been his
ideal customer—tabloid obsession was Izzy’s thing.
“He’s one
lucky guy.” The vendor smiled.
Her eyes
widened. Was it that evident she’d been thinking about Daniel? She wasn’t sure
how to respond to his remark. And to her relief, the vendor reverted his
attention back to Izzy.
Daniel
Neeson. The six foot two, blond, blue-eyed, investment banker she’d recently
met at a birthday party for a common friend. Daniel seemed witty, charming and
confident. She liked confidence. It would be their first date tonight. It would
also be her first date in more than a year, since saying goodbye to her ex,
Jake, the cheater.
Although
she’d looked forward to meeting Daniel again, emotional scars from her past
relationship still haunted her heart. Her palms turned clammy, she’d never felt
this nervous about a date before.
She’d set
an alarm on her phone to leave from work on time; she’d laid out a little black
dress along with other accessories on her bed; she’d also brushed up on her
list of things she liked to do so she’d have something to talk about.
Maybe she should rehearse that list one more time? She ran through it silently.
And as she did, she realized the general theme of the things she liked to do
all somehow concluded in loathing Jake.
One:
running, as in away from Jake.
Two:
hanging out with her friends, as in to forget Jake.
Three:
cooking, as in to poison Jake.
She
cringed. How did her thoughts get so morbid? Moreover, where had her
insecurities around dating stemmed from? Had Jake’s betrayal been entirely to
blame or was it also because she could never forgive her father for cheating on
her mother?
“This one
just came in, and it’s selling out fast.” The vendor’s voice brought her back
to the present.
“And
that’s the one she wants, right Izzy?” Ali hurried Izzy with an impatient
glare.
“Yes,
this is the one I want,” Izzy said. Without letting her eyes wander off the
cover, she handed over a few bills and thanked the vendor.
“I can’t
believe you get paid to read this junk,” Eva said as they walked into their office
building.
“I’m with
Eva on that. Is this weekly ritual of yours really necessary to be a good
fashion editor?”
“This
one’s not for work ladies, it’s for pleasure.” Izzy pointed to the magazine
cover.
“Holy
smokes…he’s hot!” Ali ogled at the picture of a drop dead gorgeous man, sun
bathing on a beach. In the nude.
The
picture showed everything, from his unruly hair, to his strong chiseled jaw, to
the toned muscles in his arms; his broad chest dusted with just the right
amount of hair, his six-pack abs and his long legs. And that line of fuzz that
tapered from his navel down to his—blurry round circle?
Aw—Boo!
Aw—Boo!
“Who’s
that?” Based on his looks, the guy was a model, or an actor, or maybe even an
athlete.
“Seriously?”
Izzy glared at her. “He’s the owner of Stanton Enterprises.”
“No way.
That’s Clive Stanton? The Clive Stanton?”
“Yes. The
Clive Stanton. They have an office here, top floor. And he owns this building
and the one next to it. How can you not know Clive Stanton?”
“Well, I know the name. We’ve worked with the Stantons for years. I met Clive’s father once, but…” Eva glanced back to the magazine cover. “I’ve never actually met Clive.” She should look him up on the Internet later. Because it was good to know all about one’s clients. She had no other intention whatsoever.
“Well, I know the name. We’ve worked with the Stantons for years. I met Clive’s father once, but…” Eva glanced back to the magazine cover. “I’ve never actually met Clive.” She should look him up on the Internet later. Because it was good to know all about one’s clients. She had no other intention whatsoever.
Right.
“Shouldn’t
he be in Time Magazine or Forbes and not some junky magazine?” Ali asked.
She had a
good point. Stanton Enterprises owned several businesses, from spas to night
clubs, restaurants to charities and much more. It was unusual to see a man of
his standing making an appearance in a weekly gossip journal.
“Well,
that’s because he’s with Silvia. She’s the Sports Illustrated cover this
season.” Izzy referred to the beautiful woman lying next to Clive in the
picture. “He’s been linked with several elite models in the past. He’s quite
the mix, you know, billionaire, philanthropist, and playboy.”
Eva
trusted Izzy’s knowledge on these matters. As the editor of In Trend magazine,
Izzy always had all the dirt on the celebrity circles.
The way Izzy said that word, playboy, churned Eva’s insides. She didn’t like playboys just as much as she didn’t like cheaters. And now, she didn’t like Clive. Yet, she glanced back at the magazine cover, and imagined herself next to him on the beach in place of the super-hot blonde. She’d never get tired of looking at this man. The sex would be mind-blowing. No harm in fantasizing, right?
The way Izzy said that word, playboy, churned Eva’s insides. She didn’t like playboys just as much as she didn’t like cheaters. And now, she didn’t like Clive. Yet, she glanced back at the magazine cover, and imagined herself next to him on the beach in place of the super-hot blonde. She’d never get tired of looking at this man. The sex would be mind-blowing. No harm in fantasizing, right?
“Isn’t he
delicious?” Izzy sighed as the elevator doors opened.
They
stilled. And they stared.
There he
was, the tabloid hottie, clothed in a dark gray suit, a crisp, white shirt with
the top few buttons undone, hair ruffled, and looking straight at them from
inside the elevator car.
He
glanced at the magazine in Izzy’s hand and a slow, sexy grin appeared on his
handsome face. Eva grew weak in her knees.
He looked
at them one by one, first at Izzy, then at Ali and then his gaze met hers and
lingered. The unexpected attention from the man she had only moments ago been
fantasizing about made her tense. A thrill of attraction zinged all over her as
his gaze traveled her length. She almost forgot to breathe, as the same way she
almost forgot he was a playboy. And she most definitely forgot Daniel.
Delicious.
Her brain
commanded her to get into the car, but the rest of her body stayed still. She
worried her lower lip with her teeth, hoping the pain would shake her awake.
Could he possibly know what she had been thinking right then? His lips curled
into an alluring smile. Evidently he did. She swallowed hard, but managed to
smile back.
“Ahem.” A
harsh wake-up-call came from one of the many others waiting to get past them
and into the elevator.
Izzy
shoved the magazine into her leather tote as they hurried in. Eva turned her
back to Clive as soon as possible, but as the crowd shuffled in, she had no
choice except to move toward him. She took a step backward, then another…and by
the time the car was full, she stood pressed close to him. His breath fanned
her hair and he smelled of something fresh and divinely male.
Ali shot
Eva a sideways glance. Her expression was one of contained amusement, and
brought Eva back to the hilarity of the moment. After what felt like eternity,
the doors opened and Eva, Izzy, and Ali rushed out. And as soon as the doors closed
they burst out into laughter.
“Oh. My.
God. What were the chances of that happening?” Izzy pressed her hand to her
chest, clearly flustered by the unlikely encounter.
“Right?
And Eva, he was totally checking you out,” Ali said.
“He so
was,” Izzy chimed in.
A quick
shiver zipped up Eva’s spine as she was still energized from Clive’s silent
attention. But remembering Izzy’s opinion of him raised an immediate red flag
she wouldn’t ignore. Moreover, this had been the first time she’d seen him in
the two months she’d worked in the building. A fluke. She doubted she would see
him again anytime soon.
“Whatever,
not interested.”
“Not
interested?” Izzy looked shocked. “Do you know how many women want him to look
at them the way he did at you?”
“Uh-huh.
And how many women has he already looked at, the way he did at me?”
“Well…there’s
that,” Izzy said.
“So yes,
not interested. But, for the record, he is…wow.”
They giggled.
After a
moment of composure they said their goodbyes, and they each walked to their
respective offices.
“Morning,
Tina,” Eva greeted.
“Miss
Avery, good morning,” Eva’s secretary greeted back, her voice chirpy and
upbeat. The young woman followed her into Eva’s spacious office.
“Any
messages for me yet?” Eva shed her coat, hung it on the rack, and walked to her
desk.
“Yes, Mr.
Avery stopped by. He wants to see you as soon as possible.”
It had
been two months since Eva had taken over her late-father’s business. If not
forced by his will, never in a million years would she have agreed to be the
sole owner of S. F. Designs. After all, she was trained to be a Chef, not a
CEO, and had no experience leading a company. None especially in leading one of
the top Interior Design firms in the nation.
After
graduating from culinary school, Eva had spent several years committed to
grueling hours of work as she climbed up the chef ladder. And then finally,
about a year ago, she’d been made the Executive Chef at a starred restaurant— a
title she had worked hard to achieve and that made her, and her father too,
quite proud. She’d been so close to making her long-aspired dream a reality. A
vision to own a restaurant, one that would gain critical acclaim by delighting
with food set precisely in place, like artwork.
Yet here
she was at S. F. Designs, following a path she had never wanted to pursue, in a
field in which she had no experience, shelving her creativity for a future day
that may or may not come her way. Why? Because of that last, unforgettable
conversation she’d had with her father.
Only
after his death had those few moments she’d spent with him come to mean so much
to her. The ambience of the coffee shop, the aroma, what her father had worn
that day, his every gesture, every grimace, every word…all now ingrained in her
mind forever.
“I’ve put
you down in my will as the next owner of the company.”
“What?
Why?”
“Why
not?”
She
laughed. He didn’t. Was he serious? “You’re not kidding.”
“Dave
will train you in no time.”
She
laughed again. This had to be a joke. “Why? Are you going somewhere?”
“So
you’re willing to take over then?”
“I’m
neither willing, nor ready, nor even remotely capable of working in any other
business that isn’t in the food-industry. I’m a chef, Dad. I want to own a
restaurant some day. That’s what I want to do. Not run an interior design
firm.”
“Why? Is
it because I was a bad father? Because I was never around?”
“Oh,
c’mon. This is emotional blackmail.”
“Is it?
Did you not choose a career path completely different from mine because you
imagine that means you won’t have to live the life I’ve lived? Yes, I was
consumed by work. But I did it all for you, damn it. For your brother. For your
mother.”
“I know
that. We know that. You’re wonderful, you always were.”
“Then
don’t refuse this, Evie. You’re perfect for this role. No one else can lead
this company like you can. In only a matter of months you’ll be as good, maybe
even better at this job than I ever was. This company needs a fighter, this
company needs you.”
“I…” She
shook her head, “I’m sorry…I-I can’t…I just can’t. Why won’t you let Uncle Dave
take over?”
“He’s
excellent, no doubt. But he’s not you, he can never be what you can to this
company.”
His
explanation and insistence made no sense to her then; it made no sense to her
now. Whatever the reason behind him choosing her to lead the company after him,
she might never know. But she loved her father and missed him terribly. S. F.
Designs had been a huge part of his life and was all that was left of him. She
couldn’t forgo his last wishes, she couldn’t let him down.
Eva
sighed, set her bag on her desk, and walked over to find out why Uncle Dave
wanted to see her so urgently.
“Hey,”
she greeted her uncle as she walked into his attractive corner office. Uncle
Dave sat behind a large, mahogany desk. The silver in his hair shined in the
morning sun that gleamed through the huge windows. A familiar expression of
affection lit up his face, but quickly reverted back to contagious worry. Her
stomach tightened. “Is everything OK?”
“I’m not sure.”
He handed her a paper marked with the Stanton Enterprises logo.
She
scanned through the document, rushing to find the words that might explain his
discomfort.
…We
cherish our unwavering partnership…blah, blah, blah…we regret to inform you
that we are terminating our contract with S. F Designs… Thank you for your
exceptional service…
“But
why?” Confused, she looked at her uncle.
“They
don’t say.”
She
brought her gaze back to the paper she held in her now shaky hand. Her father
had launched S. F. Designs the same year she was born. Through the years, the
company had progressed from a meager garage start-up into a high-end
corporation. She thought back to the day the company set up shop on this
thirty-seventh floor. She’d only been five years old then; cars and people had
looked like moving toys from the windows of her father’s office.
Several
years later, her dad had met Clive’s father, then owner of Stanton Enterprises.
Sharing similar stories of struggles in the initial years of their businesses,
they took an immediate liking to each other. Their companies had been in
partnership ever since.
Her
father had a contract to design all of Stanton’s spas. The tone of the contract
was informal, allowing each company the freedom to terminate at any time
without any legally binding implications.
Stanton
Enterprises had benefitted hugely from this partnership. Their Spa interiors,
designed by her father’s firm, provided unparalleled tranquility and privacy,
and had become hot spots for celebrities.
The
partnership had positively propelled her father’s firm into the public eye.
Within a year of designing their first spa, his team had been featured in
several magazines for their superior and innovative renderings. Soon his was
the number one firm in the state for designing luxurious living.
She’d
imagined this streak of good luck would go on forever. Although there had been
recent rumors of aggressive changes to Stanton’s business strategy, that they
would end their partnership with S. F. Designs had never crossed her mind.
It wasn’t
even nine in the morning. How could things have gone so wrong already?
Stanton
Enterprises was the fifth company pushing to sever ties with them this month.
Her firm had committed to providing services to Stanton and only a few other
firms for the rest of this year. Unless they were able to find another viable
customer, losing this contract would plummet her firm’s projected yearly profits.
Eva
called Tina on the intercom and asked to set up an immediate meeting with Bryan
Austin, the Director of Design at Stanton.
Her first
impression of Bryan Austin had been that of a man who was trying too hard. He
was a tall, athletic man with dark hair, each and every strand painstakingly
set to perfection. He was relatively young-looking for a corporate executive,
and could almost second as an owner of a swanky night club. With that came a
moody attitude, his face mostly expressionless and a pre-meditated response of
rejection toward any offerings her firm made to Stanton.
Except on
one occasion last week, when Eva’s team had suggested Stanton should switch to
environmentally friendly options while staying along the lines of their
signature designs.
Eva liked
the proposal from her team; to her, any concept that benefitted the planet had
a nice ring to it. The thought that her firm could be a part of a green
world made her feel
at peace, as if she were in an organic garden, picking fragrant herbs for her
next entrée invention.
To her surprise, at first Bryan was on board with the idea. However, his enthusiasm seemed to have waned within the last two days. His team had returned with a strong no, we’re sticking to tried and tested methods for now response. Eva had further questioned Bryan, but he’d responded with minimal substance and candor, leaving her baffled about this matter more than before. Worry about your own company, Miss Avery. Leave the worrying about Stanton to me.
To her surprise, at first Bryan was on board with the idea. However, his enthusiasm seemed to have waned within the last two days. His team had returned with a strong no, we’re sticking to tried and tested methods for now response. Eva had further questioned Bryan, but he’d responded with minimal substance and candor, leaving her baffled about this matter more than before. Worry about your own company, Miss Avery. Leave the worrying about Stanton to me.
As she
stared at the notice she held, she began to suspect he had known about the
contract termination all along. Whatever the reasoning behind his decision to
send them the termination letter, convincing him to reverse his decision would
be quite a feat. Burdened by a heavy, sinking feeling, she slumped down into
the empty chair across from her uncle.
Silence
ensued for several long moments as Eva contemplated the repercussions this
change would bring upon her firm. And then she heard a slight knock on the
door. It was Tina.
“Miss Avery,
the earliest the Stanton team can meet is at two o’clock tomorrow.”
Eva
sighed. And so it begins, the
countdown toward impending war. She took one last look at the letter in her
hand. She had a day and a half to prepare for the brunt of the discussions that
would follow when she met with Stanton. And she’d be ready. Bring
it on.
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Author Info
Camellia Hart, a techie turned
author of romance, lives in San Francisco with her husband, the love of her
life. Other than writing her next romance novel, her hobbies include traveling,
lazing on a beach with a good read, watching movies with happy endings while
gorging on endless buckets of popcorn, red wine, and champagne truffles.
Author Links:
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