Author Tiffany Carmouche is celebrating the one year anniversary of her debut novel, The Impostor!
“Alaska? Who goes to Alaska?” Escaping an abusive ex boyfriend, Nicole, a struggling young single-mother, convinces her best friend to travel to a place she knows little about, in search of better life.
Nicole is scared of getting hurt again, but Dylan’s chiseled body and chocolate brown eyes captivate her. And soon she finds herself in the arms of the sexy lead singer.
In Alaska, she discovers the power of friendship and true love and begins to let down her guard. But is her security a facade? Soon Nicole’s innocent beauty taunts a sinister man, and she is caught in a web of deception and danger. She realizes someone she trusts has been stalking her. Petrified, she wonders, how can she escape? Miles of wilderness surround her. She hears something. Someone is there. Should she cry for help or stay silent?
Will she be saved or will she be hunted?
…I brought the orders to the bar, knowing that Brad would torment me about the song Dylan was singing for me.
“Can I have eight Buds, two martinis, a glass of white zin, and three shots of Jose Cuervo?”
“I think that’s a little excessive, even for you. Look at you, you’re blushing.”
“Shut up, Bradley.”
“He wrote you a song. Is that what it takes? I think maybe I will take guitar lessons.”
“Shut up, Bradley.”
Dylan was still singing. I was still blushing. I tried to ignore Brad and turned back to the stage. The song was almost over, and I wanted to savor every moment of it. No one had ever done anything like this for me before.
“And we wonder why he always gets the girl. You know every girl in this place hates you right about now. It’s bad enough he likes you, but he’s singing a song for you.”
“Shut up, Bradley! Just give me the drinks.” I proceeded over to the customers with a full tray, all my attention savoring Dylan’s every word. He was staring into my eyes, and I was gazing into his. I didn’t even notice the tiny step down into the lower level. My foot twisted and drinks flew through the air as I fell to the ground. So graceful. Shit. I was covered in tequila and martinis. I scanned the room, completely humiliated, praying nobody had seen me, but realizing on a slow night like tonight, everyone had.
Dylan stopped playing for a second, but when he realized I was all right, he winked at me with a grin. One of the customers sitting at a nearby table helped me up.
“You okay, miss?”
“Just incredibly mortified.” I picked at my wet clothing, trying to unstick my shirt from my body. He scrambled to help me pick the glasses up off the floor.
“Thank you so much.”
“You sure you are okay?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” I snuck back to the bar. Now not only was I bright red, but completely self-conscious.
“That was classic. You fell with such grace,” Brad picked at me.
“Shut up, Bradley. Oh my god, that was so embarrassing.”
“Are you kidding? It made my night.”
“You are such a jerk. Give me some new drinks, please.”
“You sure you can handle them with pretty boy on the stage?”
“Bradley, shut up! Can I get off after this? It’s slow and I’m all sticky.”
“It’s almost closing. You can handle thirty more minutes. There are only three of you. Besides, if I let you go home before he gets off stage, Dylan will kill me. He is bigger than I am, so that wouldn’t be good.” He tried to lighten my mood.
“Please? I feel so gross.”
“You are cute wet. Now give those customers their drinks. And you are cut off.” He smiled. He knew I hadn’t had anything to drink.
As I made my way across the floor, hoping no one would notice me, I glanced to the stage.
Dylan winked at me again, mouthing, “You okay?”
I just nodded, even though I was probably damaged for life. I just wanted to go home. Let me hide for the next . . . eternity. Why wouldn’t Brad let me leave? It was only thirty minutes. Emily could handle the pitiful crowd.
“Thank you all. We will see you Tuesday night.” Oh, shit. They were getting off the stage. I dashed over to the bar.
“Brad, I gotta go. Can you call me a cab?” Cabs didn’t fill the parking lot on Sunday nights the way they did on other weekend nights.
Right then I felt Dylan’s muscular arms wrap themselves around me as his warm body pressed against mine, trapping me at the bar. He moved my sticky hair away from my neck and his tongue gently savored it. “Mmm, you taste like Tequila. I couldn’t wait to get off stage and taste you. You looked so delicious.”
“That was so embarrassing.” I turned in his arms, facing him.
“I’m just glad you are all right. You fell with grace, I have to say.” Dylan smiled—such a lie. My legs and arms had gone hurling through the air with all of the alcohol.
“Yeah, right.” I lowered my head, totally horrified.
“You are so adorable when you blush.” He lifted my chin. “You really do taste good. I can’t wait to get you out of this place and get you home. We’ll have to get you out of those sticky clothes.”
I playfully smacked him. “You’re so bad.”
I searched for a way to say goodnight, but I couldn’t with him so close. I didn’t want to break free of his arms. I wished I could stay there forever. They felt so safe.
“I can’t go home with you, Dylan. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you can. I promise not to bite.” He kissed my neck.
I pulled away from him a little bit. “I’m not ready to do anything. If you don’t want to go out tomorrow I understand.”He pressed his finger over my mouth. “Shh, I just want to be with you. If you’re not ready, then I will wait.” ~Sneak Peek into The
Impostor, A Love Story by Tiffany Carmouche ©2012
About The Author:
From skydiving in Alaska to scuba diving in Hawaii, Carmouché has traveled the world seeking adventure and it is apparent in the books she writes. Her adventures include riding camels in Africa, swimming under the stars in Puerto Rico, dancing salsa in Ecuador, and walking the cobblestone roads of Assisi, Italy. She has also found fulfillment working with the disabled and orphans in Argentina and Mexico. Her most cherished moments, however, have been watching her two beautiful daughters grow and strive to accomplish their own dreams.
Despite all of these amazing experiences, she has survived many struggles. There was a time she felt defeated, but now she is recommitted to savoring experiences both in the novels she writes and in the life she lives each day. Her secret hope is that anyone who is struggling will realize there is a light at the end of the tunnel and no matter how hard the fight, no matter how many times they have been knocked down, it is always worth staggering up to their feet and learning to breathe again.
Can you tell us a little about yourself?
Me? I’m a single mother... a survivor... a dreamer... a hopeless romantic... an adventurer...
What’s your most favourite thing about writing?
I love my fans. I love when fans write me while they are reading my books, or right after they finish a book. I love creating characters people feel like they know. Characters they scream at and fall in love with. To me that makes all the long hours in front of a computer screen worth it.
Do you have any advice for newbie authors just starting out?
Do it for you. Do it only for you. You will be surprised. Your family, your spouse, your friends, many people you feel will be the most supportive will not be at all. Don’t let it get to you. Write for you. I did this for years with my poetry. There are lyrics I have never showed anyone but still pouring those words onto the page was so freeing. Learn your craft. You can always get better. If you share your work, listen. Know your first draft will need a lot of work. Feedback is awesome. It makes you better. And surround yourself with people who believe in you.
Which five words would you use to describe yourself?
Sassy, persistent, dreamer, romantic, spontaneous