Cheekypee reads and reviews: C.E. Hansen

If you ask Sarah what happened to her, she wouldn’t answer. She’d stare at you blankly, as if she’d never seen you before…because she hasn’t. She has no memory of anything or anyone. Not even the handsome man standing before her claiming to be her fiancé.

Sarah was in a terrible accident, one that almost claimed her life.

As Sarah awakens from the security of a coma, she finds herself in a place so enigmatic, so foreign, and ultimately terrifying, she has no choice but to learn the truth, but in order to reclaim her life, she must delve into a past that is completely unknown to her. She is a victim, who must also uncover the missing pieces of the life she once lived.

Act Accordingly

Twenty-six-year-old Nic Maretta is having a bad year.

She just found out that the man she was in love with and planned to marry is just that, married. So she does what any normal woman would do. She gets drunk, brushes herself off and swears off love forever.

She is thankful to have a best friend that not only loves her, but accepts the new ‘Nic’. This new Nic has decided to live life on her own terms, mocking convention; as well as her own situations. It’s goodbye heartache and hello sexual freedom. After all, what’s good for the goose, is good for the woman who likes sex! Or something along those lines.

Until she accidently bumps into Brendon…

He is immediately taken in by her beauty and tenacity. She is instantly turned on by his good looks and sex appeal.

One crazy night, one too many champagnes and way too many phone contacts, Nic throws caution to the wind and calls Brendon. To her surprise he comes running.

Game on!

It's a Crime

Wealthy New York socialite Grace Preston uses men for amusement, holding her heart inside an ice fortress for protection. Spurned by a sociopathic male model, Grace picks up a new man with all the right moves; smooth as bourbon, Cole slides under her wall and touches her in places she thought were well-guarded. But after a weekend of fiery passion, he leaves, devastating her.

Cole Grayson has spent ten years building his commercial real estate firm and chasing the arsonist who killed his family when he was a boy. Women are a dalliance, and have no place in his personal quest. Then Grace rocks his world—not only sexually, but in her arms, his nightmares cease. To protect her, he pushes her away; he’s close to finding the culprit and Grace must not get tangled in the cross-fire.

When women matching Grace’s description start turning up dead in Central Park, Cole is forced to divide his influence between personal revenge and protection for the woman he has come to love. But throwing money at the problem only goes so far. Grace is in danger—can he get to her in time.

It's A Shame

Grace and Cole were trying to put the pieces of their broken lives back in place, working towards a future together. It seems as though things were just starting to get back to normal. Well, as normal as things could be for the survivors of a twisted serial killer.

What they didn’t know, what neither of them expected, was that their nightmare was just beginning.

They were about to be pulled back into the clutches of a madman…but this time, they weren’t the only potential victims…

Was their love strong enough to get them through the next disaster? Do they have what it takes to stay together, or is what’s lurking around the corner too much for them both?

#MeettheAuthor

C.E. Hansen is an American writer. She also writes under the pseudonyms C.E. O'Brien for her young adult series, Hero. The first installment UNLIKELY HERO is available on Amazon.

C.E. wrote her first romance novel at age fourteen when she discovered writing about boys and girls was way easier than actually having a relationship of her own. Since that time, her communication skills haven't improved, but she likes to think her writing has. After earning an associates degree in literature from WC, she worked in a bus company, a law office and a wine/gourmet food shoppe, but she never abandoned writing.

She's a proud mother of a beautiful daughter, lives in New Jersey with her husband and Maltese Zoe, and if she's not working on her latest sexy story, you can find her reading, watching cable television, or indulging in her unhealthy addiction to chocolate.

C.E. Hansen's debut novel IT'S A CRIME was released May 2013, her follow up novel IT'S A SHAME, was released November 11th, 2013 Her newest book, ACT ACCORDINGLY was just released July 16, 2014.

If you want to read more posts like this one or follow her insane journey to debut authorhood, you can find her here...indulging in her passions...

Whether they be writing, eating chocolate, or talking with friends on Twitter and Facebook...

#SocialLinks

http://c-e-hansen.me/

http://cehansenauthor.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/CE-Hansen/155164134660107

https://www.twitter.com/CynthiaEHansen

#Excerpts

Ever Sarah

“Do you need help?”

“No, I think I can do it.”

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked without emotion.

“No, thank you.” I whispered.

She removed the tray from last night and left, disappearing behind the slowly closing door.

I was glad for the time to myself to adjust to this new reality. The darkness outside was just giving way to light, it must be morning.

I grabbed the corner and managed to pull the tray table closer to me and pushed off the top that covered the plate.

I lifted a spoon, thinking I would most likely have better luck with it rather than the fork.

It was almost comical how clumsy I was. I might as well have had two left hands. I finally managed to get a good grip on the spoon I held, but the real trick proved to be getting the eggs from the plate into my mouth.

It was frustrating, but I managed to laugh at my attempt. I looked down and discovered half the eggs were on my lap.

I heard the door open and I looked up.

“Sarah?” His voice was startling but vaguely familiar. I wanted to close my eyes and turn away, but I was unable to.

I did notice that he was beautiful.

Just beautiful.

The most beautiful man I’d ever seen, as far as I could remember, which was all of four minutes.

He was a tall man with broad shoulders, hair black as night and the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen, and he stood just inside the door, flowers in one hand.

He had the biggest smile on his lips, revealing perfectly straight white teeth, and my heart beat faster at the mere sight of him. He was dressed in a dark navy suit with a light blue shirt and a dark blue tie that only intensified the blue of his eyes.

“Who are you?” My voice was shaking.

He quickly placed the flowers down on the table and crossed over to where I lay in the bed.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He took the napkin and removed the eggs I’d dropped in my lap. The fact that his hands were touching me in such an intimate way didn’t strike me as odd. What did, however, was how familiar he smelled; a mix of soap, outdoors and male. It was almost intoxicating.

“It’s me Sarah. Brad. You don’t remember me?” The pain that briefly masked his perfect features was evident. And those features…Holy Christ, all I could think was holy cow!

Strong jaw, dark, thick eyelashes, perfect brows and lips…lips that were excellent…and by excellent, I mean kissable. I found myself licking my own lips unconsciously. If not for the waxy taste on my tongue, I would never have known I had. I blushed.

“Don’t take it too personal, I don’t know who I am either.” I let out a small weird sounding laugh.

“Well,” he walked over to a chair, pulling it over to where the bed was and sat down, and with a sad look in his eyes, he continued, “you are Sarah Williamson, and I am Brad…Bradley Hunter. I don’t know if it is too much too soon, but we are engaged to be married, so that makes you my beautiful fiancée.”

The sound of the gasp that escaped me was probably heard in the hallway.

“Don’t look so horrified, I’m not that bad a catch.”

“It’s not that.” I looked at the wall, trying to find the words I wanted to use, but obviously memory loss has its disadvantages. “I’m having a hard time getting used to the fact that my name is Sarah. Every time someone calls me that, I feel frustrated that I don’t know my own name. Now you tell me that I’m engaged to you. A man I don’t know…or recognize. It’s just a little too much for me to grasp, and it took me by surprise.”

“I understand.” He looked somewhat melancholy.

“How long have I, um, been…disconnected?”

I must have looked ridiculous because he smiled that heart-stopping smile and I lost all train of thought.

“You’ve been ‘disconnected’ for just over five weeks. Actually, two days over five weeks to be exact.” He turned his head and his blues locked on mine.

“That long?” I stuttered. “I’ve been lying here for five weeks?”

“Not here. You were in ICU for over two weeks. Then you were put into the recovery ward for over a week. Then here.”

“Have you been here to see me, I mean, do you visit me often?”

“Every day.” He said simply.

“Oh.”

“How are you feeling?” He asked, and then continued before I could formulate an answer. “I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here and you are talking to me. I have been praying so hard for this day and now that it’s here, I don’t know what to say. I have to admit, I feel somewhat foolish.”

He smiled.

Heart raced.

“I feel weak. I’m clumsy. I can’t hold a damned spoon to save my life and I can’t put a face to my own name.” He looked at me oddly, “I have no clue what I look like. It’s all so confusing my head is spinning. And in three short minutes, I’ve found out that I am engaged to be married, I have a last name as odd to me as my first name…and I’m angry with myself for not being able to remember. Family. Do I have a family?”

Act Accordingly

I was about to turn around and walk out to the curb to wave my hand in the air calling the only man willing to come for me tonight—albeit in a bright yellow conveyance—when Captain America strolled into the bar with a bored look on his face.

His issue, I didn’t care. He was hot enough to make me forget the crappy day I’d just had. Mine, well let’s just say I was looking for a satisfactory ending to a day that started off totally lousy.

I nearly dropped to the floor when I saw how good-looking he was. Yeah me—and a dozen other women. My knees actually felt weak and I was lightheaded. This definitely was not the norm for me.

***

Anyway back to Captain America.

I continued scrolling down the length of his long body, which brings me to my second rule. ‘Needs to be totally hot’. Just not into the whole dork thing. Lose the boyish good looks; I want a man, a real man. One that knows when to shut up and knows when to open his mouth.

Get my point?

Deep breath Nic.

He strolled determinately up to the bar and ordered a scotch.

Nice.

I stood like an imbecile watching him, unable to tear my eyes away, still holding my coat and purse. I began to perspire. I mean really, I’m almost pathetic at this point.

“Thank you.” He said to the bartender.

Two words.

Thank you.

It was enough to give me a tingly rush.

Holy hell what a voice, deep, husky, confident, and dripping sexuality. Needless to say, I was all hot and bothered, and I mean that in the most sexually frustrated tone I could possibly manage.

He wore a dark gray suit and a blue and white striped shirt with a cerulean blue tie. Obviously he had money. That, or he had one really good suit that he saved for special occasions. I tend to think it was the former.

He turned and his eyes scanned the room, like he was looking for someone he knew.

His gorgeous green’s landed on me.

They were gorgeous.

Perfect green orbs with specks of deeper, darker, green flecked throughout.

Jesus Christ save me.

Okay, so I’m being a bit overdramatic.

He picked up his glass and strolled over to where I stood. His walk was panther like. I sound like a friggin’ dime store novel don’t I?

Anyway, he stops directly in front of me and I smiled. I couldn’t help it. My mouth just curled up at the sides, showing off my pearly whites.

“You wouldn’t be Karen by any chance?” His voice was like music. I would have fanned myself if I had a free hand.

“No sorry.” I uttered, suddenly pissed my parents took the hilarity road instead of naming me Karen.

“So am I.”

He was quick on the draw, and I liked it.

“Who is Karen?” I asked. Stupid question, but I didn’t mind keeping the conversation going. It kept him close by. The smell of him was blowing my mind.

God help me.

“Don’t laugh…” He looked at the floor like he was trying to find the right words.

“I won’t.” I answered with a questionable tone in my voice.

“A blind date. Buddy of mine…never mind. It’s boring.”

The one thing this guy didn’t need was to have a ‘buddy’ fix him up. I found myself wondering what was wrong with him. Did he like kinky sex? S & M? Or worse, was he a submissive? Totally not into men that like woman beating them.

I must have looked as stupid as I felt.

“No, doing him a favor. He had to go out of town, and I promised to keep his blind date company.”

“Wow, that’s a bit convoluted.”

“Well, he’s a good friend and he met this girl on the internet…” He scanned the room again. “Told me I’d have no problem recognizing her, that she’d be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“Dude, if that is a pick up line, it’s lame.”

“No, I’m serious.” He took a sip of his drink. “I don’t see anyone in this entire establishment who can hold a candle to you.”

“Okay, Captain America. You have a lovely night. Hope you find your date. I’m going home.”

For crying out loud, is there a guy out there that is actually genuine anymore?

“Captain what?” He mumbled questionably.

I mean one that isn’t a troll.

Just then out of nowhere comes this stunning brunette with big blue eyes.

Think Mary Tyler Moore when she was young…and with blue eyes.

“Are you Mark?” her voice was sickeningly sweet. I wanted to put my finger down my throat. But Captain America just stands there, beaming like a freaking schoolboy.

“No I’m not, but are you Karen?”

“I am.” She said.

Did I say sickeningly sweet? I meant vomitus.

I wanted to smack her phony assed face.

I was beginning to feel like a third wheel here. I tightened my grip on my coat and turned towards the door.

“Excuse me.” I heard him behind me. “Karen, I’ll be right back, could you just wait here. I just have to tell my friend something…”

I quickly turned around and boom. He slammed into me nearly knocking me over.

“Um, wait a second…I don’t know your name.” He whispered as he held me close to his body preventing me from falling down, or escaping I might add.

Nice move, very smooth.

“It’s not Karen.” I managed.

“I know that. I’m really glad it’s not.” He smiled.

Dear Lord his teeth were perfect, and his breath. Shit. It was a cross between lemon and mint. I really wanted to just lick him. Lick his whole face before I stuck my tongue down his throat.

“Glad? How?” I muttered as I breathed him in deeply.

One last sniff, so to speak.

“Karen is Mark’s date. I’m just a surrogate.” He quickly glanced behind him towards the lovely Karen.

My eyes followed his.

There stood Karen, looking confused and, yes, a little excited for her date.

“And?”

“And I’m not Mark.” He answered.

“I’m glad we straightened that out.”

It’s a Crime

I continued to watch him through lowered lashes. He leaned back in the stool slowly looking around the bar taking his time scrutinizing the patrons, as though on the prowl, then abruptly stopped, his eyes settling on me. He scanned me up and down, as if contemplating a purchase. A lazy smile touched the corners of his mouth along with a satisfied look, as though he’d hit pay-dirt. My breath caught and awareness of him prickled across my skin.

Feeling embarrassed getting snagged checking him out, I quickly lowered my head and turned slightly toward Michelle, still watching him from the corner of my eyes. He turned back to the bar and took another long sip from his drink. He gestured for Sarah and leaned in close to speak with her.

I was somewhat miffed thinking he’d prefer Sarah to me; however, when they both looked at me at the same time, a strange tightening clenched my stomach. Without taking his eyes off me, he smiled at something Sarah said as she leaned in toward him, obviously flirting, making sure her cleavage was all up in his face. He didn’t seem to pay any attention to the bodacious set she had on display for his benefit.

Her nickname at Luke’s was Simple Sarah, seeing she was an easy lay. I myself liked her. She was pretty, funny, outgoing and a really nice girl, besides I don’t judge when it comes to women and promiscuity. However, at this moment I found myself thinking of her as competition. He laughed again, I was barely able to hear it with the steady buzz in my ear, compliments of Michelle, but I heard enough to know I wanted to hear more. His face lit up as he smiled.

His teeth were stunning, white, gleaming and about as perfect as perfect gets. I like teeth. Call me weird, but clean, white straight teeth to me were what a perfect set of breasts were to a mammary fan, a definite turn on.

I couldn’t stop looking at him. Something, apart from his good looks and perfect teeth, drew me to him. An attraction I couldn’t put my finger on. I found myself instantly thinking of sex. A flush suddenly spread like wildfire on my face. I took a sip of my second wine. It was warm.

An idea formed in my over-stimulated little brain and I abruptly came to a decision of what I wanted to drink next. The flash of a warm, amber colored liquid swirling in a glass came to mind and I stopped Michelle mid-sentence with a wave of my hand.

“I’m going to get something else to drink. This is warm as shit. Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m still working on this.” She paused gesturing to her glass of warm red wine. “I’m going to the ladies room, be back in a minute.”

I nodded to her and stood to walk over to the bar. I positioned myself at the corner where I was able to stare at him without looking like I was. I raised my hand to Sarah, who didn’t see me. I was about to call out her name when the man, who Sarah couldn’t turn away from, pointed in my direction. So he noticed me too…sweet.

When Sarah finally sauntered up to the bar where I was standing, I pointed to the drink Mr. Magnificent was holding and ordered the same. Sarah knew at that moment I was seriously flirting with the man she desperately wanted to be her next houseguest, and copped a bit of an attitude toward me.

“You sure you want one of those, Grace? Not your usual?” Her tone was overly sweet, dripping with envy.

“Yup. I want that,” I said with the confidence of a boxer. Grace one, Sarah zero.

She nodded and went to get me my bourbon. When she returned, I told her to add it to my tab.

I looked directly down to the end of the bar where he was leaning back in his seat watching me and took a sip. The heat of the strong alcohol burned my mouth and stung as it trickled down my throat. I nearly spit it right out; it was sharp as hell, but I managed to put on my “I drink bourbon all the time” look quickly. Amusement lit his eyes and curved his mouth. He of course saw right through my charade and smiled broadly at me with a look on his face that clearly spelled out amateur.

I rallied pulling myself together, then hoisted the glass to my mouth and drank the remaining liquid in one gulp. This time I was prepared for the onslaught of fire that streamed down my throat into my belly. The warming effect spread languidly through me. Oh, that was all so smooth Grace…Nice.

It’s a Shame

“Ace…do not even start me if you are not able to finish me,” I whispered playfully, while inside my whole body was heating up sending sparks shooting outward to my extremities. I could feel myself beginning to pant.

I heard, as well as felt, a rumbling sound deep in his chest.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day…” I nibbled at his chin again, pushing it, testing his limits, “I’m so hot for you right now, I hope I can make it through dinner,” I looked at him through my lashes, my voice soft and husky.

Reaching down between us, he adjusted himself, and lifting both eyebrows, glared at me, his eyes smoldering, his jaw set. There wasn’t a doubt as to what was going on inside that gorgeous head.

He placed his hand at the small of my back drawing me closer to him, pushing his pelvis into me and I instantly felt him against my belly. The gentle pressure of his splayed hand coupled with its warmth sent tingles of anticipation coursing through me. I raised my head and searched his face, noticing the slight curve playing on his lips; proof he knew exactly what his touch did to me.

“You’re purposefully getting me started, aren’t you?”

“You made the first move.”

“What move?” I questioned my eyes imploring, “Are you playing games with me?” I asked looking up through my lashes.

“I don’t play games,” he parried, his voice rough. He locked eyes with mine momentarily and heat surged through my veins again.

“You are. You’re trying to get a rise out of me,” I said answering my own question.

“Right now, I’m thinking of how to get a rise into you.” He pulled me against his groin again, emphasizing his point.

“Oooh...You’re exasperating!” I exclaimed, flustered.

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re forgiven.” I leaned in and raised myself onto my toes planting a light kiss on his full lips.

“Good evening Mr. Grayson, Miss Preston, your table is ready, if you would please follow me please.”

I jumped and turned abruptly, so focused on the sexual tension and our sidestepping tête-à-tête, I didn’t see Hillary, the hostess at Jean-Georges, standing there, wine list and menus in hand.

“Hillary,” I said, a tad loud. “Sorry…” I hoped my face wasn’t as flushed as it felt.

She smiled knowingly and turned to guide us to our table.

Cole steered me in front of him, and we followed Hillary to the table. Had she approached us a few seconds later, we would most definitely not be following in her wake now. I was just about to make him an offer he simply would not have been able to refuse. I mentally pushed my shameless thoughts aside, saving my voracious appetite for later.

When she stopped, I looked up from the floor and happily noticed she was sitting us at our ‘regular’ table, which was somewhat secluded, away from other diners, in the far corner of the restaurant next to the window with a lovely view of Central Park.

“I’ll have your waiter bring your bottle of still water. In the meantime may I offer you a cocktail?” Hillary smiled brightly, her brilliant white teeth a stunning contrast to her olive skin.

Hillary a willowy, petite, exotic beauty, with a short dark asymmetrical bob longer in the front, shorter in the back, was quite attractive; her small heart-shaped face a perfect canvas for her warm dark brown sloe-eyes and full lips. She was gracious, with a very warm, outgoing personality, who remained always the consummate professional.

Cole looked to me.

“Do you have the Raspberry Lychee Bellini today, Hillary?” I asked

“Of course, for you…always, may I get you one?” she asked politely.

“Definitely…I love that…it tastes like heaven!” I exclaimed.

“Very good,” she said smiling and then turned to Cole. “And for you, Mr. Grayson?” she asked.

“Bourbon neat.”

“Very well.”

As she walked away, I felt the tension I’d been holding onto begin to subside, just not fast enough for comforts sake.

A few minutes later our waiter brought us our drinks and poured us each a glass of the bottled water, setting the bottle down on the silver coaster. I lifted the champagne flute to my mouth savoring the taste of the tropical fruit, and tart berries mixed with the chilled bubbles of the Italian Prosecco. Delicious.

Cole lifted the bourbon to his lips, sipped briefly and set his glass down. I opened my menu, turning my attention to the food choices.

“What are you in the mood for?” I asked as I perused the menu.

When he didn’t answer, I looked up to find him glowering at me, an intense burning in his eyes, and a provocative smile playing on his lips.

He leaned in close and whispered, “You really need to ask me that?”

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Thursday, 17 September 2015

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