Give Me Reason
with an alcoholic, drug addicted mother wasn’t traumatic enough, she’s escaped
from her physically and verbally abusive boyfriend only to struggle every day
to make ends meet as a waitress in a Minneapolis diner.
takes an unexpected and persistent interest in her. On the surface, “Mr. Suit”
seems to be Vivienne’s opposite: rich, well-fed, successful. As Vivienne will
learn, Mikah is more than he seems, and for reasons unknown, he’s determined to
be her knight in shining armor. But after having finally found her own two feet
after years of abuse, it’s difficult for
her to accept Mikah’s help.
reason enough to overcome her pride and traumatic past and learn to love and
trust? Or will her past, refusing to be left behind, come back to claim her?
It is from Glendale, Arizona that Zoey Derrick, a mortgage underwriter by day and
romance and erotica novelist by night, writes stories as hot as the desert sun
itself. It is this passion that drips off of her work, bringing excitement to
anyone who enjoys a good and sensual love story.
that lasts the night, it allows her to empty her mind of stories we all wish
melodrama and the unrealistic, bringing her gripping Erotica only closer to the
heart of those that dare dipping into it.
encouraging, climactic yet full of suspense. She is a loving mistress, up for
anything, of which any reader is doomed to return to again and again.
He’s looking down at me, making me feel small at five feet
two inches. He has to be at least six feet tall. Broad shoulders. His suit
today is gunmetal grey with blue or black pin striping—I can’t tell which. His
shirt is a beautiful lavender color with a darker purple tie.“How do you know I’m not an addict?” I ask,
softly.He smiles at me, warm, genuine. “Because, you’ve come
to return the money I left you last night as a tip.” My jaw falls open.“How”—I swallow hard—”did you know?”His smile fades a little. “Because, why else would you
come down here?”I close my mouth and look down at the floor. His ability to
read me is really scary.“Since you haven’t eaten since last night, I’m going to
take you to lunch.”I feel my face flush bright red, both in anger and complete
irritation. “That is not why I’m here. I’ve survived for my entire life
fending for myself, I don’t need some rich hot shot business mogul buying me
food.” I reach into the pocket of my bag and pull the folded up paper from
it. I thrust it towards him. He refuses to take it. Tears of frustration
trickle down my cheeks. “Damn it Mikah, take it.” I push it at him
again and again he refuses. “I’m not a damn charity case. I don’t need
your money or your food.”The bell chimes. We’ve finally reached the skyway. As soon
as the doors open, I drop the folded up paper with his money in it and bolt
from the elevator, turning left, hoping and praying I can get away.“Vivienne, stop.” I hear him say behind me. I keep
going, walking quickly but not running. Yet. I’m trying hard to not make a
scene.But he doesn’t seem to care about that. He catches me
quickly, spins me around. I grab hold of his arm to catch my balance so I don’t
go sprawling onto the floor.