PAINTED
PASSION by Tamara
Hunter
Genre:
Erotic Romantic Suspense
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BLURB:
Trella
Arnold’s upcoming art show is her primary focus until she uncovers information
which causes her to question circumstances surrounding her husband’s death. She
contacts his former partner in spite of the danger he poses to her peace of
mind.
Carlos
Diaz owns a successful investigation firm, having left the Phoenix Police
Department after the murder of his best friend. Carlos’ life is
uncomplicated—at least until he receives Trella’s phone call. Despite his
misgivings at seeing the only woman who ever made him dream of settling down,
he agrees to help.
Trella’s
probing for answers lands them both in a sticky situation. Carlos moves in to
protect her, but he can’t fight his attraction. Soon he’s in her bed and she’s
in his heart.
PAINTED PASSION is a sexy and engrossing page turner. Hunter created a story with realistic characters that makes you root for love to triumph over grief and regret. Trella is a strong woman with a passion and talent for painting. After losing her husband in a violent and tragic way she has returned to her home in Phoenix. After years of being away and handing off the responsibility of watching over Trella to his cousin Miguel, Carlos is back and his feelings for his ex-partner's wife are as strong as ever.
Trella and Carlos have unfulfilled feelings for one another which they both want to deny. They are both hesitant to take a chance on a relationship together because of their connections to Louis. However the danger that her deceased husband faced has surfaced again and it's now up to both Trella and Carlos to get justice for Louis' death and make Trella safe again.
The secondary characters in this one are interesting as well and I hope that Hunter ends up giving several of them their own books too. PAINTED PASSIONS was a quick and very satisfying read with diverse characters, a good storyline, and plenty of steaminess!
Happy Reading!
Monica
**I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review.**
“Grief does strange things to people,
Francois.”
“True. The reason the landscapes don’t
work isn’t because they aren’t good. Your emotions seeped through, but I can
sense you feel you have to show what people have come to associate with you.”
He tugged her to him then folded her in his arms. He tilted her chin, forcing
her to look up at him. “The young woman who first waltzed into my gallery was
eager to take on the world. Bring her back. Paint with abandonment. One doesn’t
control a fire. It either flares into bright flames or is extinguished.”
Didn’t he understand she wanted to have
her old mojo return? Trella eased from his embrace, wrapping her arms around
her middle. “Nothing I’ve tried works,” she whispered.
He sighed. “You’re trying too hard. Art
needs space to create.”
“The loss of Louis—”
“He died. Yes, it is sad. But you didn’t
die. No one blames you for living.”
Francois shooed her from the room, back
into his office, before locking the door behind him and returning the key to
his pocket. He picked up her sketchbook from his desk, flipping the pages one
at a time before closing it with an audible snap.
He didn’t say anything, and she glanced at him.
He held a hand over his heart. “Your key
pieces,” he whispered. “Why are you hiding these?”
She froze in sudden shock. She’d forgotten
to remove the drawings of Carlos.
“Look.” He flipped to a page. He held it
up for her perusal. “The longing, the wanting. I feel it from the sketch. This
is it!”
She bit her bottom lip as she studied the
rendering of Carlos, naked and proud. If Francois recognized the latent desire
she possessed for her husband’s former partner, would anyone else?
“Why the gloomy face?”
She sighed. “I’d rather not use any of the
drawings.”
He tapped the page. “These must make the
show.”
He couldn’t be serious. If, by some
miracle, Carlos did agree to be used as a model, could she withstand the
pressure of people dissecting what they’d believe to be the intimate nature of
their relationship? “I can’t. I never used a painting of Louis.”
“It’s no one’s business why you never used
your husband as a subject. I figured you didn’t want to display your marriage
to the world’s perusal.”
She nodded. Everyone assumed that,
including Louis. In her soul, she knew her paintings of her husband wouldn’t be
on par with her other work.
“Francois, this man…I can’t.”
He perched on his desk. “I’ve been where
you are, Trella. Art does not lie. There is no subterfuge. You cannot pretend
what doesn’t exist.”
But
could she pretend what existed, didn’t?
Tamara Hunter fell in love with romances at an early age
and always had a book in hand. Her love of reading continues today and she
enjoys romantic fiction from historicals to contemporaries to paranormals.
Everyone needs love and there’s nothing more satisfying for
Tamara than exploring relationships between characters—particularly when said
relationships include hard-to-resist, sexy men who will do anything for the
woman they desire.
When she’s not creating tales of her own, she enjoys
spending time with family and friends, cooking and traveling.
Thank you for sharing!
ReplyDeleteMonica, you're the best! Thank you!
ReplyDelete