All The Write Stuff: Taken In His Keeping Book 1

If you liked Fifty Shades of Grey, you'll love this new series!

Taken

In His Keeping Book 1

by Mia Frances

Genre: Dark Romantic Mystery Thriller

If you liked Fifty Shades of Grey, you'll love this new series!

Out of work and on the verge of being homeless, Sylvie Jenkins is desperate. Her desperation leads her to take a job with a reclusive writer living in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. She's never heard of Connor Hudson, but the man is offering her room, board, and an extremely generous salary. How bad could he be? Sylvie is shocked to learn that she might not know who Connor Hudson is, but millions of readers do, scarfing up the books he writes under various pseudonyms. And Connor's not just a bestselling author. He's a billionaire entrepreneur whose publishing and media empires span the globe.

Her new employer is a drop-dead gorgeous hunk, but he's also surly, dominating, and demanding. He's accustomed to being obeyed and kowtowed to, but he soon discovers that his feisty new assistant refuses to do either. Sylvie thinks he's an arrogant, condescending jackass! Connor is shocked that this little imp isn't cowed by his wealth, power, and position. That fascinates him. The Dom in him is determined to have her...and her obedience and submission as well. Naive and nerdy, Sylvie mistakes sex for love. But Connor can't love her. He's keeping secrets: dark and dangerous secrets. He says he's incapable of love. But as the body count begins to rise, you can't help but wonder...is he capable of murder?

IN HIS KEEPING Book #1 TAKEN is a steamy romance murder mystery thriller with a cliff-hanger ending. The story continues in Book #2 BANISHED and concludes in Book #3 CLAIMED.

Guest Post

What inspired you to write this series?

I love the Adirondack Mts. of upstate New York. I was driving around up there a few years ago and happened on the little Westport train station on the banks of Lake Champlain. It is so quaint and off the beaten track that it gave me an idea for a story about a young woman, down on her luck, who's so desperate that she takes a train up from the city to work for a man she's never met and live with him in his remote mountain mansion. That was the beginning of the IN HIS KEEPING series. This is that train station.

What is the series about?

The story begins with In His Keeping: Taken and centers on Connor Hudson: a reclusive, dominant, billionaire, best-selling author, and Sylvie Jenkins, the girl he hires to be his research assistant for a new erotic romance series he's writing. Sparks fly when they meet. He's used to getting his way, but the shy little mouse he hired is no pushover. Over time she succumbs to his charm and falls in love with him, but her feelings aren’t reciprocated. He's a cold fish in that regard and says he's incapable of loving anyone. She begins to understand why he's so reticent when the cops show up at his mountain estate and tell them that Connor is the prime suspect in a series of grisly murders: his parents, his fiancé, and a couple of old girlfriends. Everyone who loves him dies…violently. The cops think he's a cold-blooded serial killer. In the second book, In His Keeping: Banished, Connor has sent Sylvie to live in his luxurious, New York City, Park Ave. penthouse. While Sylvie is being kept a virtual prisoner there, Connor begins to squire other women to galas and charity events. He says it's to protect her and throw the killer off the track, but she doesn't believe him. They rarely see each other anymore, but when they do their meetings are filled with painful punishment for Sylvie, followed by the most exquisite pleasure. Feeling jealous and abandoned, their relationship in a shambles, Sylvie finally summons the courage to escape her prison and what she views as her doomed love affair with Connor. In the 3rd book, In His Keeping: Claimed, Sylvie manages to elude Connor, but she can't escape the killer.

When you started this series, did you already have a clear vision of the books and characters you wanted to write about? Or did that evolve over time?

I knew I wanted to focus on the prickly love story between my heroine Sylvie, a plain, nerdy farm girl and her best-selling author, billionaire entrepreneur boss Connor Hudson. I knew from the get-go that his parents had died when he was young and that his fiancé had been murdered and that he would come under suspicion for her death; but I had no idea just how big a part the killer and murder investigation would play in the series until I was actually writing the last two chapters of the first book. Then it took on a life of its own.

How do you keep track of your series details?

I've got lists on my computer and on my desk. I’ve got pages devoted to each of my characters: physical descriptions, personality traits, quirks, education, work history, family background, relatives, where they were born and raised, their friends, associates, social relationships, and descriptions of the various homes and apartments, they live or have lived in, or have spent a significant amount of time in, etc. That way I can keep track of everybody's history without having to go back through the book. I usually have a page of background information for my lesser characters too. To keep their physical appearances, clear in my head, I cut out pictures from magazines of people I think look like my characters. The pictures are tacked up on the wall above my desk. I used the dark-haired male model who does the Ralph Lauren ads as my Connor. His name is Nacho Figueras and he is an Argentinian Polo player. He's also drop-dead gorgeous! And…wait for it…he’s best buddies with Prince Harry. How’s that for class?

In the first book, Taken, we are introduced to Sylvie Jenkins. What kind of person is she?

Sylvie is a farm girl from Wyoming, New York. Wyoming the village and Wyoming the county. She was brought up on a dairy farm. Sylvie grew up thinking she was plain and not very pretty. She's fixated on her flaws, bemoaning the fact that she's flat chested and skinny as a rail, that her face is covered with freckles. She decided early on that if she couldn't be pretty, she'd be smart: the smartest girl in class, the one who aced all the tests in college and skewed the grading curve. She's shy, so no one ever notices her. Sylvie decides to change her life for the better by moving to the big city after college. She dreams of getting a job in one of the big publishing companies, but all she can get are waitress jobs at poverty wages. She’s down to her last dollar when she's offered the job with Connor. He wanted a plain-looking research assistant who wouldn't distract him from his work; but instead, the agency sends him a feisty, opinionated, sassy little brat, who's not about to kowtow to her "spoiled rich-boy" boss.

What was Sylvie’s first reaction on seeing Connor Hudson, her new boss?

She faints! Connor likes to act out his male characters when he's writing books. In this case he's working on an erotic romance and is wandering around the house naked, much to his housekeeper's dismay. Having no money for food, Sylvie arrives at the mansion half-starved and weak from hunger. That and getting a gander at this gorgeous, buck-naked man and his prominent package proves too much for her and she passes out!

What kind of person is Connor?

Connor is smart, controlling, and arrogant, the quintessential alpha male. He has his way of doing things and he expects everyone to fall in line, especially the woman who shares his bed. He's a consummate lover, with a stunningly handsome face and a killer, well-muscled body. He's used to having women grovel at his feet. Connor has lived a life of privilege: raised wealthy, he parlayed his father's publishing company into a worldwide media and marketing empire. On the surface he's cold and reserved. He can't get a handle on his feelings for Sylvie. The deaths of his parents, the murder of his fiancé, and the hit and run death of his girlfriend have left him emotionally numb. He says he can't love Sylvie, but he doesn't want anyone else to have her either. He sends her away, but wants to keep control of her. He demands her love, respect, obedience, and submission, but offers her nothing in return. It's not until he almost loses her that he wises up. For all his bluster and angst, he's the kind of man who will run into a burning building and endanger his own life to save the person who means the world to him.

What are romantic moment between Sylvie and Connor like?

I think one of the sexiest, most romantic scenes in the series occurs in book 1, TAKEN, when Connor and Sylvie make love for the very first time. After a heated argument and Sylvie's first-ever spanking, Connor carries her to his room. She's shocked to find it filled with bouquets of flowers and flickering candles.

What is your favorite scene in the entire series?

In book 2, IN HIS KEEPING: BANISHED, Sylvie decides she's had enough of her penthouse prison and sneaks out, throwing her bodyguards and Connor into a panic. She heads to the nearest bar and goes on a bender.

What was the most difficult scene to write in the series?

It occurs in book 3 Claimed, when Sylvie flees the New York Penthouse and is attacked by the killer in the isolated Catskill Mt. cabin she inherited from her aunt. Held captive and tortured, she nearly dies. I actually cried while writing that chapter.

What was the most heartbreaking/poignant scene in the series?

It's also in book 3, CLAIMED, when Connor stands by helplessly as emergency workers try to breathe life into Sylvie's battered body and keep her alive long enough to get her to the nearest hospital. For the first time since he was a kid, this rich, billionaire tycoon is brought to tears. All his money, power, and position are useless if they can't keep Sylvie from dying!

Which character in the series is the most difficult to write?

The killer. Putting together his motives and why he did what he did was problematic at times. He had two very distinct personalities: one all elegance and charm and the other a perverted monster.

The book has a hard won HEA ending. Is that it for the series?

I’m not really sure. I’ve come up with some ideas that would continue the story of Connor and Sylvie but would also include the uncovering of a quasi-club of murderous, mega, rich-boy pe

EXCERPT

Excerpt:

His eyes swept over her body, drinking her all in. The small firm breasts. The dark pink nipples. The tiny waist. The flat belly. He let go of her wrist and grabbed her by the back of the head. His fingers tangling in the waves of her hair. His mouth hungrily claiming hers.

Sylvie's heart was pounding. She could barely breathe. She struggled to get away from him, but Connor wouldn't allow it. He held her tightly. She was going nowhere!

His mouth was hot and wet against hers. His kisses frightening in their ferocity. He had mastery over her. She had to accept that. Connor crushed her lips with his. His tongue becoming a battering ram, forcing her lips apart.

Incapable of fighting him off, Sylvie stopped resisting and yielded to him.

Connor pulled back and smiled when she ceased struggling. Now that he was sure of her surrender, he could be gentle with her. He stared at her a moment, relishing the fact that she was his. What a pretty little thing she was. Those luminous, innocent, big blue eyes. The long dark lashes. The turned-up nose covered in a hundred little freckles. The pouty pink lips. The fair velvet skin. The mane of golden-brown hair. She didn't look 25. In shorts and flip-flops, with her hair done up in a ponytail and no makeup, she looked 15, if even that.

He sealed his lips to hers, his kiss searing hot. Connor grabbed her round the waist. She leaned into him, her breasts pressed against his chest. But the lower part of her kept its distance, fearing contact with the prominent bulge growing in his jeans. He reached back and grabbed her bottom. Sylvie whimpered when his hand touched her well-spanked cheeks. She could feel his growing erection, steely hard against the softness of her belly. She was trembling, half in fear, half in anticipation. She'd spent her entire life believing no man would ever want her, especially a man like Connor. He was so sexy, so good-looking, his face, his body. He was smart, successful, and rich as Midas. What did he want with someone like her? He could have any woman he wanted. But he wanted her. He wanted a geeky nerd? Why? Was this his idea of a joke? A mercy fuck? Or was he playing at passion? Acting out a scene from his book?

Connor grabbed her bottom and lifted her off the floor. She winced in pain; then moaned when she felt him push his manhood against the cleft at the apex of her thighs. Sylvie looked up at him, her eyes smoldering with passion, his ravenous with desire. She parted her lips. His velvet tongue teased her, first tracing over her lips, then sliding between them. He tasted sweet, like fine wine, as he delved into the soft, waiting warmth of her mouth and eagerly explored it. Caressing and circling her tongue. Rhythmically moving it in and out of her mouth. Going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, when he suddenly withdrew it. She'd never been kissed like this before. She didn't know how to respond. What she was supposed to do? Her tongue shyly explored his lips and mouth. Connor's tongue circled hers in welcome, then gently suckled it, coaxing her to enter. She was tentative at first, but succumbing to his charms, began to gently suck the tip of his tongue.

Connor let out a groan, pulling back from her kiss. One hand held tight to her throbbing bottom while his other moved up to her shoulder. Sylvie felt herself tipping backward as he slowly lowered her onto the bed. The silk sheets felt soft and luxurious against her bare skin. Sensuous! Seductive! Erotic! Connor loomed over her, his eyes studying her intently, every hair, every curve. Sylvie didn't take up much room in the bed. Small boned and petite, she looked almost childlike. But she belonged in his bed, lying naked, waiting to be taken.

**On Sale for Only .99cents Aug 19 – 26!!**

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Book Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/IN-HIS-KEEPING-Mia-Frances-ebook/dp/B010RZVTP2/ref

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-his-keeping-mia-frances/1122239114?ean=9780996562225

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/in-his-keeping-taken-by-mia-frances

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25844564-in-his-keeping

Series Trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFVsxBUSRkg

Banished

In His Keeping Book 2

Exiled to a luxurious penthouse fortress on Park Ave. and trailed by security teams wherever she goes, Sylvie Jenkins feels like a virtual prisoner.

She made the mistake of falling in love with her boss, reclusive bestselling author and billionaire entrepreneur, Connor Hudson. He’s a strict, demanding Dom, who imposes rules and metes out punishment. He wants her total submission, but she’s not inclined to give it. They’d been living together in his rustic mountain mansion until the day police arrived and informed Connor he was the prime suspect in a series of grisly murders. People who loved him had a habit of turning up dead!

Without a word of explanation, Connor sends Sylvie away, refusing to take her calls or answer texts or emails. He tries to stay away from Sylvie, but he can’t. They continue to see each other in secret. Their meetings are filled with painful discipline, followed by the most exquisite pleasure.

Sylvie becomes jealous when Connor squires other women to society events. He tells her it’s to throw the "real" killer off the track. But Sylvie has her doubts.

Realizing she knows almost nothing about Connor’s background, she decides to search the apartment for clues to his past. She discovers the door to a secret room. What she finds there frightens her. Sylvie had always known Connor had a dark, almost sinister side, but she hadn’t thought him dangerous or cruel. Now she wondered. She kept telling herself Connor wasn’t a murderer. But the question remained, if he wasn’t…who was?

This is book #2 of the IN HIS KEEPING trilogy, a steamy romance murder mystery thriller. It has a cliff-hanger ending. The story concludes in book #3 IN HIS KEEPING: CLAIMED.

EXCERPT

Sylvie held the phone up so she could watch the video and hear the music. Too bad the screen was so small and the people so damn blurry. No matter. She could hear it just fine. Sylvie strutted and swayed her way down the street, loudly singing Pink's "Fucking Perfect" at the top of her lungs. She loved the video! At the end, the weirdo girl who never fit in, who nobody cared for, who nobody thought was pretty, finds love, and lives happily ever after. Sylvie was so busy dancing, she didn't see the crack in the sidewalk, and pitched forward onto the concrete, nearly falling on her face. Whoops! Guess she was drunker than she thought! How many had she had? She'd lost count. She could only remember buying one drink: the first one. After that, just like magic, every time she looked down there was another one in front of her. Who knew she was so popular? Must be the pushup bra she was wearing! She looked down, smiling at her cleavage. The girls might be little, but they looked mighty playful tonight! Mustering her dignity, Sylvie got up on her knees, and struggled to her feet. Standing up wasn't so easy when the world around you was spinning. Where the hell was she anyway? She scrunched up her eyes and tried to focus on the street sign. She was on Park Avenue and 71st. Almost home! At least she thought she was almost home. The building was big and white and had lots of windows and a whole bunch of trees on the roof. It was around here someplace; she was almost sure of it.

She fiddled with her phone and typed in another title. Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of Katy Perry singing "Roar." Sylvie lurched and tottered, dancing from one side of the sidewalk to the other. Then she bent over, squatted, and shook her ass in a slow, seductive grind. She had a vague recollection of doing something similar earlier in the evening. Except there had been someone behind her then. She'd been dancing by herself when a guy, a stranger, came up behind her and began grinding himself against her bottom. She'd never twerked before and wasn't sure whether she was the twerker or the twerkee. She didn't really know what was happening until she felt his bulging erection pressing against her backside. She had limited experience in this area. The only erections she'd ever come in contact with were Connor's. At least until tonight! This was all new to her. She didn't frequent clubs or bars, so she didn't know how to react at first. Was this normal bar behavior? Should she be flattered? Outraged? Deciding the guy was a dick and a sleaze ball, trying to take advantage of her and the situation, she stomped on his foot really hard and walked away without saying a word.

Sylvie didn't notice the stretch limousine coming to a stop at the curb a few feet away from her. She was engrossed in trying to watch the video, which was getting fuzzier by the minute.

"Sylvie? Sylvie, is that you?"

She spun around to see two faces staring at her through the open car window. They were blurry yet sort of familiar. A hand emerged from the window and motioned her closer. She might be drunk, but she wasn't stupid. It was late. There was no one else on the street except her and the Rolls Royce dudes. They could be rapists or white slavers, trying to lure her to the car so they could grab her and have their way with her. Or maybe kidnap her and sell her to an Arab sheik to stick in his harem. "No dice buster!" she yelled. Sylvie squinted at the car, trying to bring it into focus. There was more than one white slaver in there. "Busters!" she corrected herself

"What's wrong with you? Are you sick?" the same voice asked.

"Inebriated is more like it," another derided.

"Well, I guess now we know why old Connor dumped her!" a third voice snorted.

Sylvie studied their faces. Oh no…it couldn't be, but it was: the assholes! The one with brown hair was Drake. The blonde was Alex. There were at least two more people in the car, maybe three, but she couldn't make out who they were. She stumbled toward the car and stuck her head in the window and greeted them. "Hey guys, how are ya? Long time no see." She stuck out her hand ready to shake Drake's but instead missed and smacked him square in the nose.

Drake looked at her with a mixture of reproof and disdain. He wiped at his nostrils with the back of his hand, checking for blood. There was none. "Sylvie, what are you doing here?"

She pulled her head back out the window, opened her eyes wide, and looked around. What was she doing here? She couldn't remember. Sylvie narrowed her eyes and thought real hard. "I'm dancing," she grinned, pleased with her answer.

"Yes, I can see that," Drake snapped. "But what are you doing wandering around Park Avenue at this time of night? Do you live around here?"

Another tough question! She looked confused for a minute then twirled around slowly. Bad move! Everything started spinning again. She blinked, trying to focus, but her eyes kept crossing. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I live around here…somewhere! What are you guys doing here?"

"We went to a party at our club," Drake responded.

"What? Like a garden, or a book, or a country club?"

He rolled his eyes, wondering what Connor ever saw in her. She was so common, so working class, so out of her depth. "No Sylvie," he said dismissively. "It's a private gentleman's club called The Forum. It's two blocks down on Park. I'm surprised Connor never mentioned it to you. He's a member there as well," Drake informed her.

Sylvie wanted to ask if Connor was at the party, but she didn't. If he was in the city she didn't want to know. She couldn't stand the idea that he might be here and had not come to see her.

"Do you live close by?" Drake demanded to know. "It's nearly 4 o'clock in the morning! Maybe we should see you home? You're in no condition to be out on the streets alone at this time of night!"

4 o'clock in the morning? Wow! She was a real party girl! Imagine that! This was the latest she'd ever been out. Time sure flies when you're having fun! She had been having fun, hadn't she? She couldn't really remember. It was all kind of fuzzy. She remembered there'd been lots of guys. And lots of wine.

"Where the hell do you live?" Alex glared at her, completely exasperated. He was trying to be a gentleman here, but his patience was coming to an end. For two cents he'd leave the little barfly to sleep it off in the street!

Sylvie didn't respond, she was staring at her phone. "Oh! Oh! Oh! I love this part!" she shouted, bouncing up and down like an excited five-year-old. Backing away from the car she started dancing again, her ass wiggling, bumping and grinding, her arms waving above her head in wild abandon. "Cause I am the champion and you're gonna hear me roar!" Sylvie started clawing the air with her fingers and repeating the words "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oooh," over and over again. She bared her teeth and growled at them several times, then began yelling at the top of her lungs. "You're gonna hear me roar!"

"For God's sake Sylvie, what's the matter with you? This is a respectable neighborhood," Alex scolded. "This kind of behavior may be tolerated where you come from, but you can't behave like a drunken tart here!"

Sylvie glared at him. Tart…fart! She was about to tell Alex to go F himself when she heard someone in the distance hollering her name and hurrying down the street. She tried to focus a bleary eye on the approaching figure. Suddenly the doors to the limo opened and all of the occupants got out. In addition to Drake and Alex, there was Victor and Nathan and even Sean. This was turning into the billionaire, rich boy assholes' convention! They were all glowering in the direction of the man calling her name. These guys were acting just like a security detail! Wow, her very own posse! Just like Jay-Z and P. Diddy! How cool was that! Only her peeps were mega rich and wearing $10,000 suits, $500 custom made dress shirts, and $250 silk ties. Pretty impressive!

"Sylvie honey, you left your bag at the bar," he said, briskly walking toward her.

"Oops," she giggled, sending a loopy grin in his direction. She turned to Drake, putting her hand on his shoulder to steady herself, and whispered, "I think his name is Aidan. I'm pretty sure we're betrothed."

"Betrothed? You mean engaged?" Sean asked in disbelief, sure he must've heard her wrong.

"Yup, he asked me to marry him. I think he's from Ohio. He wants me to move to Cleveland with him. Or maybe it was Cincinnati?" She stepped away from Drake and walked toward the man on wobbly legs. "Hiya Aidan," she said, waving enthusiastically. Strange! Her tongue wasn't working properly. It felt thick. What was that about?

The tall man moved closer when he saw the other men crowding around her. "Are you OK, Sylvie? Do you know these guys? Are they bothering you?" he asked, eyeing them with suspicion. If anyone was going to get in Sylvie's pants tonight, it was going to be him. Not a bunch of Johnny-come-latelies!

"It's OK. These guys are just the ash…" She stopped herself. Oops! Lots of oops tonight! Introducing them as assholes would have been a severe breach of etiquette, a major faux pas on her part! She tried to come up with another word to salvage the situation. "Ash...ash associates of my…my employer," she said smiling in triumph. Brilliant save! She did a little happy dance. The men from the limo watched her in utter disbelief. The girl was not only drunk out of her mind, but obviously demented, a certifiable lunatic.

The other man just leered at her. "Your wine sweetie," he said calling her attention to the shopping bag in his hand but holding it just out of her reach. "Can I walk you home and help you carry it up to your place? Maybe we can crack one open and get to know each other better?"

The assholes were staring daggers at Aidan. Sylvie wondered why. Guess they were mad because they wanted to walk her home too. She smiled at Aidan. He looked like a cat about to eat a canary. Sylvie didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings. "Nah, it's OK. I can walk myself home. I only live…" she looked up at the street sign. Damn! She was still at the corner of Park and 71st. She hadn't moved an inch! This was embarrassing. Where the hell did she live? Sylvie closed her eyes real tight and tried to remember. "Oh wait…I know," she said, jumping up and down and waving her hand in the air like a little school girl trying to get her teacher's attention. "See that big white building on the next block. The real tall one! That's where I live!" She smiled in satisfaction. A moment later she frowned, eyes nervously darting to the other buildings on the street. "I…I... think!" The buildings began to sway before her eyes. Suddenly everything was spinning. Her stomach churned, alternately cramping and convulsing. Oh crap! She was going to be sick. She needed to leave…now! She grabbed the bag from Aidan's hand before he could protest. "I have to go. I'm not feeling very well! Bye!" She dropped her phone in her purse, lifted her purse onto her shoulder, gave them a quick, loose-wristed wave, and then staggered off down the street.

Aidan looked none too pleased. "Sylvie wait! What's your phone number?

She turned back to them, looking confused. Phone number? That was a hard one! What was her phone number? Concentrate! You know this…think! Her head hurt. Her brain felt like mush. Oh wait, I got it! "It's area code 518-853-4622."

"518? Are you sure? That's not a New York City area code," he asked, suspicious that, drunk as she was, she was trying to blow him off.

"Yup, 518-853-4622! It's a Saranac Lake number, up in the Adirondacks. I used to live there." The minute she said it a pall of gloom and sadness descended on her. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She tried to swallow back the saliva pouring into her mouth, then turned, and reeling first one way then the other made her way down the street.

Aidan shook his head in disgust and left. Guess he'd be sleeping alone tonight.

"What a fucking piece of work! No wonder Connor kicked her out," Alex said, shaking his head as he watched her go.

"He didn't kick her far enough, evidently," Drake snickered.

"What?" Nathan asked, wondering what his friend was going on about.

"Look where she's headed. That's Connor's building," Drake informed them.

"Well, I'll be. So it is," Sean looked shocked.

"She looks like a sweet piece of ass," Nathan admitted. "But knowing Connor, I don't think he's keeping her around for her snatch. He's all about the work; he's obsessed with his writing. He told me in August she was one of the best editors he'd ever worked with. That's why she hasn't been kicked to the curb completely. Hell, he'd keep Hitler or Stalin on the payroll if he thought he'd sell more books!"

"So you don't think he's diddling her on the side when he comes to New York then?" Alex asked.

Nathan shook his head. "No. I don't. When Connor ends a relationship, he never looks back. Remember that young English actress he dated a couple of years ago? The one he brought to the villa on Lake Como? He introduced her to every producer and director he knew, trying to convince them to give her parts in several Hollywood movies and even a Broadway play. Then he found out she was stepping out on him and he threw her over, treating her like a leper from then on. The man's a hard-ass!"

"I think Connor may have learned his lesson this time," Drake told them. "For some reason Connor likes low rent women; but this little chit takes the cake. His slumming has hit an all-time low. At least the other ones tried to be presentable and behave like ladies. Not this one? She's as tacky as they come! Connor really scraped the bottom of the barrel when he hooked up with her."

"You're quiet," Alex observed, staring at Victor. "Something wrong?"

"No. It's just that I can't help feeling sorry for her."

"You would!" Alex admonished him. "Jesus, you're such a sap! She's just another little gold digger Victor. She thought she'd parlay her ass into a ticket to the good life. Climb the social ladder and latch onto a rich sugar daddy. Well, it didn't work out that way. Better luck next time!"

"What is it with Connor and women anyway?" Sean asked. "His love life's a fucking soap opera, a frigging Greek tragedy. It's like a revolving door the way women come and go in his life. One day they're here; the next day they're gone. Why can't he hook up with an heiress or a socialite for a change and forget all the angst and drama? He has this thing for needy, blue-collar, working-class women. He tries to mold them into exactly what he wants. And if they don't comply; if they don't live up to his expectations, he gets rid of them! Gives them the old heave-ho! I don't get him. Why have a wacked out wench hanging on his sleeve at all, when Seanna, God bless her little heart, gives great head and is more than willing to make house calls?"

"Ah! Sweet Seanna! That girl can suck the skin right off a banana and never leave a blemish! With a fox like that waiting in the wings why would you waste your time with trailer trash?" Alex declared.

Everyone laughed except Victor. "Give him a break will you? Connor has the worst luck with women: his fiancé Marisol murdered and then that girl from Boston he liked getting hit by a car. He's had more than enough tragedy in his life. I didn't much like the girl myself, and it's obvious the little fool can't hold her liquor; but he seemed happy when she was with him. At least what passes for happy with Connor. Now he's back to being his usual morose, sullen, surly self.

Sylvie drunkenly ambled down the street trying to stay upright. She kept pitching forward and then struggling to right herself. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else. She was exhausted. Her head was spinning. All she wanted to do was lay down. Please God! Just let me make it home and I promise I won't ever get this drunk again! I pinky swear! How much further? She had to pee… really bad. And her stomach was doing flips. She was relieved when she saw the double doors with an immaculately trimmed potted evergreen tree on either side.

Feeling sick, she stumbled to her knees and began retching violently. Acrid, foul smelling liquid spewed from her mouth as her stomach emptied its contents: cheap wine, peanuts, pretzels, bagel and pita chips, popcorn, and snack mix. Sylvie reeked with the abominable stench.

Sean watched in alarm. "Christ, she fell and it looks like she's puking. Do you think we should help her?"

"No. Leave her. She's a big girl," Alex responded. "She's on her own. Let's get out of here.

They all piled into the car. Except Drake. He watched as two men came to her aid.

A couple of security guards had seen her and rushed out of the building. They grabbed her by the arms and tried to help her stand; but her legs were made of Jello and wouldn't support her. She vomited again and slumped forward, her knee slamming hard into the pavement, breaking the skin and leaving a bloody smear on the concrete. "Just let me die!" she wailed as another wave of nausea hit her. On her hands and knees now, Sylvie tried to lie down on the sidewalk. The quicker she died the better! A pair of strong arms lifted her up into the air. It was the behemoth. She tried to speak, but was afraid if she opened her mouth again, she'd hurl. Her head drooped, eyes rolling back in her head; and then, blessedly, everything went black.

Drake shook his head in disgust as he watched the men carry her into the building. Where did Connor find them? He hopped in the car and a moment later it sped away.

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Book Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B014668HPS/ref

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-his-keeping-mia-frances/1122559856?ean=9780996562249

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/in-his-keeping-banished-by-mia-frances

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26250374-in-his-keeping

Claimed

In His Keeping Book 3

Jealous and angry, her relationship with Connor in tatters, Sylvie decides to escape her penthouse prison. She flees to an isolated cottage in the Catskill Mountains where she hopes to lick her wounds and mend her broken heart.

Sylvie has a new job and a new life, far from the hustle and bustle of the city, far from Connor Hudson's rules and control. She may have escaped her lover, but not the killer. He knows where she is…and he's coming to claim her!

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Book Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01AOWGCRS

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-his-keeping-mia-frances/1123272226?ean=9780996562263

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/in-his-keeping-claimed-by-mia-frances

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28589213-in-his-keeping

About the Author

Mia Frances is the pen name of author Mary Vigliante Szydlowski. As Mia, she's the author of the dark, gritty post-apocalyptic romance, TRIBES; steamy romantic suspense novel, Little Girl Lost; and the erotic romance, murder mystery series: IN HIS KEEPING: TAKEN, IN HIS KEEPING: BANISHED, and IN HIS KEEPING: CLAIMED.

Her Science Fiction/Fantasy works include novels: The Ark (Jarl Szydlow), The Colony (Mary Vigliante), The Land (Mary Vigliante), Source of Evil (Mary Vigliante), and novella, The Hand of My Enemy. She's also the author of horror novel, Worship the Night; and Dark Realm, the tale of a dystopian world ruled by Satan. In addition, she's the author of mainstream novel Silent Song.

She’s also published 11 children's book: There's A Mouse In The House, Are We There Yet?, Little Sowbug & the Big Flood, Ghoul School, Millie Muldoon & the Case of the Halloween Haunting, Millie Muldoon & the Case of the Thanksgiving Turkey-napper, Millie Muldoon & the Christmas Mystery, A Puddle for Poo, Kia’s Manatee, The Duck in the Hole, and I Can't Talk I've Got Farbles In My Mouth.

Her short stories, articles, children’s stories, essays, and poems have appeared in books, magazines, newspapers, and on the web. She's also a contributor to the Chicken Soup for the Soul anthologies: The Dog Did What?, Volunteering and Giving Back, Merry Christmas!, Mom Knows Best, and Life Lessons from the Dog.

She's a member of the Authors’ Guild, SCBWI (Society of Children’s Books Writers and Illustrators), SFWA (Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America), and RWA (Romance Writers of America).

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