- N. N. Light
Finding Tiegan by @readhannapark is a New Year New Books Fete pick #romance #eroticromance #giveaway
Title: Finding Tiegan
Author: Hanna Park
Genre: Erotic Romance
A holiday in the Algarve of Portugal…sunshine…fun-shine. It’s what I need. It’s time to be me. Time to find the woman I was before the nightmares, outlandish dreams, and sleepwalking. But I wasn’t expecting to find Tomás Ferreira, a man made for pleasure. And now, my heart throbs with unfulfilled excitement, fire burns in my belly, and swirling flames lick my thighs. I’m a glorious mess.
Where did Tiegan Moss come from? And why is she suddenly here on the day of the dead, the day the door to the otherworld swings open, the day the veil is thin? I’d hidden in the shadows, content, a life barely lived. You’ve changed everything. You make me want. You make my blood sing. Lost in your kaleidoscope eyes, trapped in the pout of your lips, I can’t escape. And I don’t like it one bit.
Can our two haunted souls find a future together?
Leaving the din of voices behind, I follow narrow alleys passing gated estates, courtyards, and bursting orange groves, sprawling branches heavy with fruit. The citrusy scent tickles my nose as I ascend one hill after another, but a pang of hunger puts an end to my explorations, turning me back toward town.
I find what looks like the real deal, a step above a greasy spoon but a classic diner just the same—the kind of restaurant people just know about. We have one back home: The Blue Dog on Main put our little town on the map with its Friday special: the double bacon cheese mushroom melt—an ungodly mouthful of homemade goodness.
This place is called Casa Rosalia. Outdoor tables sit under an awning of blue stripes, the pages of a menu scotch-taped to the entrance door. Parked on an angle in front of the restaurant is a Ducati: not just a motorbike, but a big black fire-breathing monster. My pulse kicks up a notch. My fingers itch to touch the shiny handlebars, the bulbous tank, the hard leather seat. Could this be the home of the bad boy Christina warned me of? I run my fingers through my hair and push the door open.
Casa Rosalia has a familiar, homey feel—muted walls, painted orange, a plank floor, the color of beat-up coffee beans, a ceiling beamed with heavy timber. A refrigeration unit sits at the entrance, displaying today’s catch—beady black eyes pierce mine, silver scales glisten. The kitchen is visible through an open window. A man in a black skull cap chops vegetables, and a girl with a pink ponytail polishes cutlery, but the place is empty. Have I made a bad choice? I turn to leave when a voice stops me dead in my tracks.
“I’ll be there in a moment.”
A smooth rumble resonates through the empty room. It is melodic, almost lyrical. It echoes in my mind, and I am overcome with a moment of bewilderment, a sense of déjà vu. I know that voice. A man dressed all in black appears on the far side of the dining room.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, please, I was hoping for lunch. Are you open?”
His scent hits me first, sandalwood with an undertone of musk. My mouth dries. My throat thickens.
“No, we open at six, for dinner, if you’d like to come back.” His voice, that velvet murmur wraps around me like a soft blanket.
“Oh, I’m sorry. The door was open.”
Razor-sharp, intelligent eyes bore into mine—two bottomless pools of chocolate, flecked with gold. A woman could get lost in those eyes.
“I’m Tomás Ferreira, the owner of Casa Rosalia.” He extends his hand. I offer mine in return.
“And you are?”
“Tiegan…Tiegan Moss.” I am intrigued by those eyes that burn with gold fire, by the liquid heat racing through my veins. Christina’s review of this man was bad, all bad. In the back of my mind, warning bells clang. I ignore them.
With outright arrogance, he turns my wrist, holding my fingers within his. He brushes the palm of his thumb along the ridge of my knuckles. “You’re new around here.”
My breath catches, and I forget to breathe. A daring question? No, not a question, a statement. It strikes me Tomás Ferreira is a man used to getting what he wants. I want to jerk my hand away. I want to trail my fingers along the underside of that square jaw, taste those wide, luscious lips. I wish I were five inches taller. Damn. “Yes, I just arrived. I’m visiting a friend for a few months.”
“And where did you come from?” His eyes narrow, leaving me with the impression he is somehow confused.
“From Canada—Mabou, Cape Breton, to be exact.”
“You’ve traveled a long way for lunch.”
“Yes, I guess I have.” I chuckle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tomás, but as you said, the kitchen’s closed. I should be on my way. I’ll come back, maybe another day,” I say, in a voice too quick. I’d like to take those words back—say something eloquent or funny, but I’m not good at off-the-cuff kind of stuff. I make no move to retreat.
“I would like you to stay.”
“Yes, I would.”
“Well, okay. If it’s not too much trouble.”
Tomás guides me to a table for two by the window. He steps to one side, offering a chair.
I sink into the padded leather seat, quaking—from the touch of his fingertips strategically placed on the small of my back, each one a slow-burning ember radiating heat.
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It’s a brand-new year, full of possibilities. Did you make any resolutions/goals for 2022? If so, please share one.
My resolution for 2022 is to write more hot and steamy stories that will bring happiness to the romance readers of the world J
Why is your featured book a must-read in 2022?
Finding Tiegan, 2021 N.N. Light Book award recipient in the Best Erotic Romance category will not disappoint and will take you, the reader, to far off distant lands… all the way to the Algarve coast in Portugal…lol where the scenery and the food and the people will tease your tastebuds, tantalize your senses and leave you wanting so much more. Snuggle up with your favorite glass of wine, I promise you won’t want to put Finding Tiegan down!
One lucky reader will win a $75 Amazon US or Canada gift card
Open internationally. You must have a valid Amazon US or Amazon CA account to win.
Runs January 1 – 31, 2022.
Drawing will be held on February 1, 2022.
I began my writing career in the pre-dawn of a winter morning while my husband snored like a train. We could call my husband the catalyst. If it weren’t for him, I would never have gone to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, feed the cat, and sit on the loveseat in front of the fire. It was there, in those moments of wondrous quiet, that I did something I had never thought possible. I opened my laptop, and while the coffee went cold, I wrote a story. My husband had no idea that these sojourns to the loveseat in front of the fire would become a daily occurrence, that writing would become an obsession, but the cat knew. She knows everything.
I write stories that make you laugh, make you cry, and make you love. Thank you, friends, for reading!
In the beginning, there was an empty page.
I am a writer who lives in Muskoka, Canada, with a husband who snores, a hungry cat, and an almost perfect canine––he’s an adorable little shit.
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