Medicine Man by Saffron A. Kent
Release Date: September 27th
Genre: Contemporary Romance
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BLURB
Willow
Taylor lives in a castle with large walls and iron fences. But this is no
ordinary castle. It’s called Heartstone Psychiatric hospital and it houses
forty other patients. It has nurses with mean faces and techs with permanent
frowns.
It has
a man, as well. A man who is cold and distant. Whose voice drips with
authority. And whose piercing gray eyes hide secrets, and maybe linger on her
face a second too long.
Willow
isn’t supposed to look deep into those eyes. She isn’t supposed to try to read
his tightly leashed emotions. And neither is she supposed to touch herself at
night, imagining his powerful voice and that cold but beautiful face.
No,
Willow Taylor shouldn’t be attracted to Simon Blackwood, at all.
Because
she’s a patient and he’s her doctor. Her psychiatrist.
The
medicine man.
WARNING:
This book discusses sensitive issues including but not limited to, depression
and suicide.
Excerpt
“I… Can I go now?” I
whisper.
He bends toward me. Not
like he did yesterday when he was all shaken up and furious. This leaning is
slow and filled with a different kind of intensity.
“No.”
I swallow, looking into
his eyes, which have moved down to my lips. Has he ever looked at my mouth
before? I can’t remember. He’s always been so professional and distant that
just one look of his seems exaggerated, almost too much to handle.
“W-why not?”
“Because I’m curious
about something.”
I lick my lower lip. I
swear it’s not meant to be provocative. It’s just that his stare is making them
tingle and dry out. I didn’t know that a body part could be shy until this man
focused on it like this.
“About what?”
Again, I’m expecting one thing but something
entirely different happens. Instead of answering with his words, he touches me.
Of his own volition.
His hands wrap around my neck, his fingers
spanning the entire length of my throat, tilting my face up. My eyes are wide;
I can feel it. I can feel them popping out. I can feel my heart popping out
too, bursting with too many beats.
He’s touching me.
Touching. The litmus
test of attraction.
“I’m curious about,” he
whispers, his breath wafting over my nose, drugging my senses. “Why the fuck do
I want to kiss you?”
“What?”
My hands reach up and
hold his wrists. I feel like my world just went unsteady and I can’t stand up
straight without his help.
Did he just… Did he say
he wants to kiss me?
There’s a slight frown
on his forehead, as if he’s genuinely perplexed. As if I’m a riddle and so is
his desire to kiss me.
“It doesn’t make sense.”
His gray, almost black, gaze flicks back and forth. “You’re my patient. You’re
my responsibility. I’m supposed to fix you, not think about your lips. I’m not
supposed to think about your mouth or the taste of your tongue. If you really
taste like you smell.”
“How… How do I smell?”
His chuckle is short and
harsh as he moves his hand and grabs my face. “Like lemons. Like you’ve been
sucking on lemon wedges all day long with that pink mouth of yours.”
I feel the heat of his
hand on my flesh. He’s burning up, slowly boiling over. “I-I… It’s the lime
jello,” I reply, as if that’s the most important thing in the world right now.
Explaining the source of my smell and possibly my taste too.
“You’re not my type,” he
growls, pushing his forehead against mine.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re young. You’re reckless. Inexperienced.
You believe in happy endings, don’t you? Fairy tales and fucking magic.”
His breaths are wild,
frustrated. Like believing in good things is a bad habit. Believing in
something bigger than you is silly.
I frown, pressing harder
against his forehead. “Of course I do. If someone like me doesn’t believe in
magic, then there’s no hope for anyone else. There’s no hope for me. And it’s
not a bad thing, you know. It’s not a bad thing to believe in something. In fact,
it shows that you’re brave and –”
His mouth pulls into a
humorless smile. “And you don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”
“Hey –”
“Willow.”
He flattens my cheeks
with his hands, asserting all his stupid authority over me. Too bad it only
makes me hornier and I have to clench my thighs against the shivers running
through my lower body.
“What?” I somehow manage
to squeak.
“Shut the fuck up.”
I gasp; how dare he?
But it gets swallowed up
by his mouth.
About the Author
Writer of bad romances. Aspiring Lana Del Rey of the Book World.
Saffron A. Kent is a Top 100 Amazon Bestselling author of
Contemporary and New Adult romance. More often than not, her love stories are
edgy, forbidden and passionate. Her work has been featured in Huffington Post,
New York Daily News and USA Today’s Happy Ever After.
She lives in New York City with her nerdy and supportive husband,
and a million and one books.
Connect with Saffron
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