Eyes of a Stranger

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~ Details ~

~ Outline ~

~ Reviews ~

~ Excerpt ~

~ Author’s Note ~

~ Also of Interest ~

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Details

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

She’s engaged to his best friend.

• Winner of the Emma Darcy Award

Available now.

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Outline

Anastasia has her life firmly under control. She has a fiance, Hugh, who loves her, and a career that’s going places, in one of the best cities in the world. Things are…nice. Stable. Secure. And nothing like the tempestuous years she remembers when her parents’ celebrated, notorious romance was still aflame. Then Anastasia’s fiance’s best friend, David Black, returns to Seattle after years of living overseas. David recognizes Anastasia’s stunted, hibernating soul, and is appalled. Even though digging up the truth about Anastasia’s family history will cause pain, David is determined to coax Anastasia’s true nature out of dormancy. But if Anastasia reverts to her real character, marriage to Hugh will become impossible, and David’s best friend will be hurt. And if David doesn’t succeed in setting Anastasia’s soul free, then he will lose his own chance at winning her heart.

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Reviews

I just finished Eyes of a Stranger. I read several nights until my eyes begged me to stop. I just about phoned in and played hookey from work. I loved this book! When you read emotional scenes between two people and your heart turns over, you know, that queer little ache in the region of your heart, then you know the author has got it right!

Reader Review from Bonnie Kyle

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But beyond a satisfying love story, Eyes of a Stranger is a well-written book. The descriptions are rich and layered, adding texture to the story. The pacing wasn’t rushed or abruptly truncated. There is attention to craft, an awareness that the words matter. It reminded me of the way books used to be, when authors were allowed to tell their stories, not just fit some arbitrary page count. And it reminded me of why I fell in love with reading in the first place.

M.M. Gwynn for eBookConnections

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This book was a wonderful read. The emotions that Ms. Cooper-Posey wrung out of her characters were enough for me to keep turning pages to the very end. She dangled the happy ending like a carrot until the very last page.

Kathy Boswell for Romantic Times Magazine.

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Excerpt

The spectacular view took whatever breath they had left after the climb.

Numeralla was laid out beneath them like a patchy green picnic blanket, the house and surrounding gardens and the long graceful driveway anchoring the billowing land. Scudding cloud shadows raced across the ground toward them, dipping up and down over hillocks, as the cool, rain-heavy wind pushed against their faces where they stood at the very edge of the outcrop.

“It was worth the climb,” David remarked.

She lifted her chin up into the wind, letting it stream over her face and push back her hair, lifting the sides up and away from her face. Her skin was glowing from the exercise and the fresh air, and she felt wholly alive and at peace as she always did when she climbed this hill.

She sighed.

“That’s the third sigh this morning,” he said. “And you’ve been very quiet—even for you. What’s up?”

“Nothing now. Not here. Whenever I’m up here, looking down on the view, all my problems seem so trivial. It must be the remoteness and height above the world—being here reminds you just how short and precious life is.”

David looked out over the view once more, and nodded a little in agreement. “So what was your problem?” he asked, making her smile at his persistence.

And because it did seem so very trivial up there, she found she could tell him. “You were,” she admitted. “Or, to be quite literal, you weren’t.”

David didn’t show any surprise. On the contrary, she thought she could detect a flicker of pleasure in his eyes. His face remained smoothly neutral, however. “Is that cryptic clue supposed to be an official complaint? Is it that my gentlemanly behavior is somehow irritating you, Anastasia?”

“No! Don’t misunderstand me. Your behavior has allowed me to relax in your company. But you made me a very specific promise, and so far, you don’t seem to have done a lot about trying to achieve that promise, and I’m…suspicious.”

He pushed his hands into the deep pockets of his heavy coat. “Have you forgotten that I have no intention of carrying out some sort of sex-enslavement scheme upon you?” He grimaced. “It would be an empty victory if I did resort to that. I already know the potential power of your response to me. I couldn’t fail to bind you to me that way.”

She suddenly shivered. “Then what are you trying to achieve?”

He smiled, his expression lighting up his face. There was an impish joy in his eyes. “If you can’t see it yet, Anastasia, then my agenda must stay safely hidden. But your question gives me hope.”

“Then…you still do want me?” she asked hesitantly. “I mean, it’s just that …” She faltered, for David’s joyful expression had abruptly vanished, to be replaced by another that frightened her by its power.

He took the single step that separated them, and grasped her shoulders. “You should never ask that question unless your own intentions are immediate and explicit.” His voice was a growl. “It’s like waving a red rag. No man can resist proving the affirmative, at once and thoroughly.”

“Then you do? Want me?”

“God above, woman, I’m not a machine. I can’t just switch it off.”  He shook his head a little. “Though I’ve laid awake every night wishing I could.”

“Then why…?” She swallowed dryly, for his proximity and the subject were making her adrenaline pump, and her body tingle. She rephrased herself. “That night on the boat, and at your place, the next week. I haven’t felt anything like that coming from you since.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as if lowering the shutters against revealing something by the eloquent expressions his eyes would unveil. The hands on her shoulders tightened for a brief fraction of a moment.

He looked down at her again, but she had no chance to decipher his expression for he was lowering his head down to hers. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured as his lips came down upon hers.

It was just like before. Caught by surprise, she felt her breath desert her as he drew her up against him with a delicious friction that revealed the power of his arousal. He did indeed want her. His mouth moved against hers, gently encouraging her response. And she responded blindly and without constraint.

Her thoughts were stolen away by his lips as they grew firmer and his tongue explored every sweet corner of her mouth, his large hand lay warm against her cheek and jaw, holding her steady. She lifted her arms up, up. They felt heavy. She slid her fingers up into the thick velvety hair on the back of his neck, feeling the smooth hot skin beneath her fingertips ripple with a shiver, and his breath checked for a moment, before resuming, at a slightly faster pace.

Then even her awareness of them as two entities evaporated under a hot wave of sensuality. She was caught up entirely by the driving need within her, aware only of the delicious feelings being evoked by external stimuli that registered dimly after the fact; his warm hands stroking the tender plains of her stomach and midriff; the taste of his skin under her lips; the feel of it under her hands, and the responses her touch created—small twitches of nerves and tendons and muscles, which were provoking in their own right; his hands sliding upwards to find her breasts in their confining cups of lace and satin; his strong thumbs pushing them aside to allow his fingers access. The sharp silvery spike of pleasure that speared her at his touch made her gasp, and made her hips arch against him in an involuntary spasm that brought an answering growl from deep within his chest.

Her urgent need was utterly devoid of fear; he had told her not to fear, so she didn’t. Deep in the core of her being, a tiny final bastion of reason could sense the element of control in him. It had been there all along. Usually it was covert, undetected, a last reserve to be called on at need. And now it was strong, to match the strength of his own need. It would be strong enough. In that she believed him, had seen the evidence in the implacable will and iron discipline she had discovered over the last few weeks, just as she had learned of the many facets of the passion he was controlling now.

And so, fearlessly, she allowed herself to sink into the maelstrom.

Until she was pushed from his arms, almost thrown away. He turned from her, a groan tearing his throat, and strode several paces from her as if he must put distance between them. He swore under his breath, and pushed the heavy fringe of hair off his forehead with a jerky movement of his arm.

She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her sight to the daylight, dull though it was. Her whole body trembled with the subsiding tide of emotion. Her lips were tender and swollen, and her clothing loose, the shirt unbuttoned, and dragged loose from her jeans.

David had fared no better. His coat was lying in an untidy pile on the rocks at her feet. The band of his sweater was riding up high, exposing the coffee cream skin of his hips and stomach to the cold touch of the wind. The button of his trousers was loose, and the zipper partly lowered. Anastasia felt her gaze drawn to the flat tender skin that was revealed, and forced herself to look up to his face instead, her heartbeat skipping unsteadily at the evidence of her passion.

His eyes were dilated, wide, the gray almost consumed. He cleared his throat, and attempted a smile that emerged lopsided and rueful. “Does that answer your question, Anastasia?” He began to readjust his clothing.

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Author’s Note

Eyes of a Stranger was the first book of mine ever printed, and Cerridwen Press are very kindly printing it again, with a gorgeous cover, and extensive reworking, ten years after its first release.

It was fitting that Eyes of a Stranger was the first book I sold — it was the first book I wrote that really felt like I had achieved a little mastery over novel-writing. It had only taken five books (and two of the previous four shall remain under dust forever). However, the writing of Eyes was an emotional journey that resulted in a novel that I am still, to this day, very proud of. It was originally set in Perth, Western Australia, but was moved to Seattle, Washington, to give the majority of readers who are North American a setting they can readily picture. However even the final published version of the book had some Australian terminology that crept through the cracks, that reviewers noted. Not so in this version, I hope. The editing process has been incredibly rigorous, and with ten years experience and hindsight behind me, I’ve been able to add a little more wisdom to the pile, too.

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Also of Interest

Available now.  This book is set in Seattle, Washington.

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