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Ashes of Temptation – Cover Reveal – a book by Eve Rabi (2nd Debut)

          

 

 

 

 

Coming soon!

I do believe that some of you couldn’t access this post, so if you haven’t been able to, here it is again!

An Excerpt from Ruins of Temptation
(Already published)

A shirtless Drover gets out of bed and stumbles downstairs, throws open the door and balks at

the sight of Colin on his doorstep, roses and teddy bears in hand.

At the sight of attorney Phillip Sterling, Colin’s smile dips. This is the man who pulled a dirty on

him. Not his favorite person.

“I think I have the wrong house,” Colin mumbles as he backs away. “Apologies.” He turns and walks down the footpath.

From the car, Milton sees the shirtless Phillip Sterling at the door. He knows Phillip – he’s the man who put his daughter away in prison. Not his favorite person either. What the hell? Maybe we have the wrong address.

“Wait!” Drover calls.

Colin stops and turns around.

“Why are you out of prison?”

“Look it up if you want to know,” Colin says in an abrupt voice, then turns to continue walking.

“Callan!”

With a sigh, Colin stops and turns around. “What do you want, Sterling? I don’t have time.”

“Wait!” Drover says. “Just a moment. Are you looking for …?”

“I’m looking for my wife. Clover Callan, remember her? My daughters? My family? Clearly, I have the wrong house.” He turns around and walks again.

“Wait! She’s here!”

Colin whirls around.

“She … this is the house,” Drover says. “She’s here.”

Colin tilts his head at Drover. “My wife is here? In this house?”

After a slight hesitation, Drover nods.

Colin squints at him. “Where?”

“Upstairs.”

Colin’s eyes sweep over Drover, taking in the fact that he is shirtless, wearing just a pair of short, looking like he’s just rolled out of bed. He turns to look at Milton, then back at Drover. “I don’t understand – is my wife living here with you?”

Drover doesn’t answer; he just stares at Colin with one hand on his head.

End of excerpt from Ruins of Temptation

The story continues in Ashes of Temptation

Excerpt from Ashes of Temptation 

Colin’s eyes flicker with confusion – if Clover is living here, if she is upstairs, why is this attorney from the public prosecutor’s office, the one who reneged on their deal, who double-crossed him and put him behind bars for seven years, shirtless and bare feet in the very same home? Colin blinks hard – Am I dreaming?

Drover blinks equally hard – how is this possible? Callan should be in prison right now – am I dreaming?

The hostility in Callan’s eyes tell him he’s may not be trapped in a bad dream after all. Drover glances upstairs, debating with himself – should he shout and warn out to Love, or go to her, whisper in her ear and bring her downstairs? He is certain Love will be equally shocked to see Colin here. Finally, he says, “Okay, look, if you wait here, I wi –”

Still clutching the two teddy bears and the bunch of roses, Colin pushes past Drover and strides into the house.

“Hey, wait in a minute!” Drover says, running after Colin.
Ignoring Drover, Colin walks around the house, sighting things that only compound his confusion – Eden’s rocking horse, Angel’s favourite blanket, a portable baby cot, Clover’s discarded jacket …

He pauses to pick up Clover’s jacket and stares at it. He was with her when she bought it. She even wore it to prison when she visited him in it.

“Look, just wait here and I will call her,” Drover says, a thread of anxiousness in his voice.

After a cursory glance at Drover, Colin pauses at the foot of the stairs and look upstairs.

Drover steps in front of Colin, blocking his path. “Wait here, and –”

Ignoring Drover and adding Clover’s jacket to the roses and teddy bears in his arms, Colin side-steps Drover and takes the stairs two at a time.

“Hold on there!” Drover yells.
Colin pokes his head into the bedrooms, looking for Clover. Even though the first bedroom is empty, it is instantly recognizable as Angel’s because of the photos of him and Angel on the wall. I’m in the right house.

He walks fast into the second bedroom, where he finds Eden fast asleep. His frown softens as he stares at his daughter that he hasn’t seen in three years.

. Fighting the urge to hug his daughter, Colin turns and almost runs out of the room in search of his wife.
When he reaches the third room, the door is shut. He flings it open and looks into the face of the woman lying in bed.

Clover.

His wife.

“Colin!” Clover cries when she sees Colin in her bedroom, clutching the teddy bears, roses and her jacket. “Wha …” The words die on her lips as she looks at Drover at the doorway, his palms turned out.

“Clover?” Colin whispers.

“I … Colin … ohmygod!” is all Clover can say, before she clamps both hands across her mouth.

With a dazed expression on his face, Colin looks at Drover, at Clover, at Drover, then again at Clover. “Wha … wha … what … Clover …” He rubs his eyes with his knuckles, “Am I … dreaming?”

Clover is speechless.

Colin stands in the middle of the bedroom, Clover’s jacket still in his hand, his eyes squinting at the tell-tale signs of a couple sharing a room – Drover’s phone and wrist watch on the bedside table, along with a half-finished bottle of water and the TV remote, the rumpled bedlinen next to Clover, Drover’s t-shirt and shoes on the floor.

Colin stares at Clover and the flimsy nightdress that shows her nipples. “I must be dreaming,” he mutters, blinking hard.

“Colin, I can explain,” Clover says, as she pulls the bedcovers over her, a move that only serves to highlight her lack of modesty, her duplicity. She opens her mouth to explain, but shock and disbelief renders her mute. Under Colin’s piercing gaze, she hangs her head.

For a while no one speaks.

Drover breaks the silence. “Look, Callan –”

Colin swings around to look at Drover. “Can you do me a favour?”

After a slight hesitation, Drover shrugs.

“There’s someone at the door. Can you let him in, please?”

“Who is it?” Drover asks, reluctant to leave Clover right now.

“My parole officer. He needs to meet … my wife.”
Drover looks at Clover, glances behind him, then at Clover again.

Relieved that his parole officer is around to may serve as a buffer to the situation, Clover’s head bobs. “Go! Let him in. Please!”

Drover too is relieved. He’s seen the car parked in his driveway, so he steps out of the room, eager to bring in the parole officer.

The moment he leaves the room, Colin flings down the jacket, the roses and the teddy bears. He slams the bedroom door shut then locks it.

Clover is startled that he would lock the door. “Colin, shouldn’t we go downstairs to meet …”

The words die on her lips when she watches Colin drag a cupboard across the door. Fear bolts through when she realizes that she is now trapped in the room with Colin. With a Colin that lured Drover out of the room, then locked the door.

The moment the door locks, Drover realizes what just happened. He rushes to open the door, slams his shoulder into it, but it won’t budge. He runs to fetch a baseball bat and slams it against the door, hoping to create a hole in it. The bat breaks on the first hit.

Inside the bedroom, when he’s sure they no one can leave, and that no one can enter, Colin turns slowly to look at Clover. “Are you living with him? Are you sleeping with him?” Colin advances toward her as he speaks, his eyes hooded, his voice low and controlled. Too controlled for a man who just caught his wife in bed with another man.

The expression in his eyes is familiar – she’d seen it just before, when he tried to strangle her at the Church of Light. When he believed she was Scarlett trying to pass herself off as Love. For days after that, she slept in a locked office with a Taser at hand, for fear he would harm her.

Clover scrambles back in bed. “Colin …I can explain …”

Colin towers over her, burly and muscular, more muscular than she’s known him to be. The cords in his neck, the twitching of his jaw, the flaring of his nostrils, augments her fear.

“Hey, open this door!” Drover shouts from outside the room. “Callan!”

Ignoring the rattling of the doorknob and Drover’s banging on the door, Colin says, “Don’t explain, just answer my question – are you living … are you, my wife … are you living with Phillip Sterling?”

Clutching the bedcovers, Clover looks away. “I … I … Colin …”

“Are you sleeping with him, CLOVER? I need to hear it from you.”

Clover doesn’t answer. Instead, she looks at the door, gauging and calculating – should she make a dash for it? She is fast on her feet, sure, but what about the cupboard?

Colin suddenly lunges at her, grabs her by the hair and drags her out of bed.

Clover’s terrified scream can be heard outside the house in the still of the morning.

“I asked you a goddam question!” he says, planting her in front of him, his bulging eyes boring into hers, his breathing erratic.

When she doesn’t answer, he jerks her toward him, slamming her into his chest. “Tell me, Clover. Tell me.”

“I … Colin… you’re hurting me, Colin!” she cries, as he holds onto her hair.

Milton, who now stands outside his car, is startled by the sound of a woman’s scream.

Realizing something is wrong, he hurries into the house and toward the sound of the screams. “Oh, shit!” he says when he sees Drover slamming his shoulder against the bedroom door.

“Call the cops!” Drover says.

Milton hesitates.

“Call the cops!” Drover repeats. My phone’s inside the room!”

Milton hesitates.

“What?” Drover demands.

“He’ll go back to jail.”
“Call the FUCKING cops!” Drover shouts.

Just then Andrew and Daisy burst into the house.

“Dad!” Daisy cries. “What’s going on?”

“Andy, help me,” Drover says. “I broke the lock, but something’s against the door.”

Inside the room, a terrified Clover tries to stay calm, even though she looks into Colin’s face, puce with rage.

“When did you start this affair?”
As Clover tries to think of an answer, a whimper escapes her.

“Answer me, CLOVER!”

She doesn’t answer, because through her terror, she knows that whatever answer she gives will be unacceptable.

Colin suddenly slaps her across the face, splitting her lip. “I’m going to kill you, Clover!”

End of Excerpt for Ashes of Temptation

Coming soon!

PS: My Facebook account is still under temporary lock due to a phishing scam, so I am unable to respond to your messages on FB. Feel free to contact me via this blog, or everabi2012@hotmail.com

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Ruins of Temptation by Eve Rabi – Now available on Amazon!

Cover Ruins of Temptation 6 June 2018.jpgA forbidden touch, a treacherous heart, desires that cannot be denied.

Now available on Amazon!

Amazon US:
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Amazon U.K.:
http://amzn.eu/7GM3qaz

Amazon Aus:
https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07DWTZ4GV

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Yes, we’re ahead of schedule, so download now and enjoy another instalment on Scarlett’s antics!

 

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The Other Woman (an epic and jaw-dropping collision between a betrayed wife and a cunning seductress),  which is available on #KindleUnlimited.
Fans of Girl on the Train and Gone Girl, The Affair, will be gripped by Eve Rabi’s riveting tale of love, lust and revenge.
#RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense #StoriesofRevenge #VigilanteJustice #FreeonKindleUnlimited #LoveTriangles#TheOtherWoman

FRAGMENTS OF TEMPTATION – Girl on Fire Series by Eve Rabi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Book 11 in the Girl on Fire Series is now available on Amazon.

 

Links to download this book:

 

Follow this blog to avoid missing out on the next excerpt/instalment. You’ll want to keep up with Scarlett’s karma, believe me!

This is not a stand-alone book. It is one of the books in the Girl on Fire Series.
Read The Other Woman (an epic and jaw-dropping collision between a betrayed wife and a cunning seductress),  which is available on #KindleUnlimited, Please read before you read this book. (.99 cents for a limited time!)
Fans of Girl on the Train and Gone Girl, The Affair, will love Eve Rabi’s tale of love, lust and revenge.
#RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense #StoriesofRevenge #VigilanteJustice #FreeonKindleUnlimited #LoveTriangles#TheOtherWoman

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EMBERS OF TEMPTATION by Eve Rabi (Book Release)

EMBERS OF TEMPTATION  (Excerpt One) 

 

Blog image 1 wordpress Wrath of Temptation 09 Jan 18

SCARLETT 

Pumping with adrenaline, I look out of the window, my ears cocked for the sound of the chopper. Where are you? Liars, cheats – where the hell are you? Better hurry, I don’t have all day.
Nearby, three technicians quietly comb my home for bugs. “It’s an emergency, the Church of Light is in grave danger!” I declared when I called them. “Pastor Colin needs your help.” The suckers dropped everything and rushed to protect their church and their pastor.
I figured, first things first – before I deliver any kind of retribution, I need to rid the place of all surveillance equipment installed by that psychopath called Clover. Or Love. Or Whatever the fuck she’s calling herself these days. Before more damage is done.
Joy Sterling indeed – I can hardly believe how dumb Sister Grace was for not checking this so-called volunteer out thoroughly. By not doing her job, she has allowed Clover to believe that she can take me on. Me, Scarlett Smyth-Murdoch-Callan, manipulator and criminal extraordinaire, probably one of the finest Svengalis to tread the Earth. She has no idea who she’s dealing with. How dangerous I am. That she is tangling with someone with an IQ higher than that of Einstein.

Such a fraud, pretending to be so helpful and supportive and reliable – coming up with the sparkling pacifier, the convenient playground – God, I feel like screaming right now!
Before you call me dumb (someone like me could be duped by an  unremarkable, unimpressionable, thrift-shopper in long skirts, vintage cardigans and sensible shoes), just remember that I have an empire to run, so I was distracted. It happens, okay? Distraction is an occupational hazard for moguls like me, so don’t even think of berating me. And … just keep in mind how quickly I derailed her locomotive of deceit.
Clover’s biggest mistake was thinking she could take me on. Her second biggest mistake is that she forgot about that greedy hillbilly named Liz. That beanpole who also, God knows why, thought that she could take on someone like me. “Give me ten thousand dollars today and two hundred thousand dollars in three days.” Yeah?

“Fetch me cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

Really? Bitch, I am the director of the Church of Light, not a volunteer. And FYI, never in my whole life had I ever fetched anything for anyone.

Well, I hope she enjoyed that steak sandwich and that cup of hot chocolate, her last feast before she was deposited where she belongs – three feet under (six is not necessary). May the maggots enjoy feasting on her wiry body.

Bristling with fury, I look at the three wise men, roaming the place with their selfie sticks. Or detectors – they look like selfie sticks to me. My ears are cocked and ready for that, Found one! For that, beep! beep! beep! followed by ‘gotcha!’
More than an hour passes, and not a squeak from the men. Absentmindedly, I inspect my nails – I’ve ruined a good manicure by constantly tapping of my fingernails on the table.
As I wait, I think about Townsend, the sleaze bag. Thanks to Shane, he will soon be accompanying Liz. No one will come calling for Townsend – he’s a mere unemployed British actor working illegally in Australia, and doesn’t have any family around who will miss the creep in ridiculous red briefs. The nerve of him thinking I’d fall into bed with him. The nerve of him demanding a Maserati. The nerve of him thinking he could blackmail me. That’s always been the problem in my life – everyone around wants a piece of me. Love, Liz, Townsend, Shane – yes, even Shane the cokehead is expecting a piece of the pie I so lovingly and so painstakingly baked. Why? I’ll tell you why they demand a piece of me – it’s because I’m a woman. A powerful woman at that. If were a man, not even an authoritative one, even if I were a Weasel like Woody Allen, everyone would laud me, not blackmail me. They would expect nothing from me and be too scared to even think of asking. You think people can go up to Donald Trump and shake him down? Picture it – Trump, can you fetch me a steak sandwich? Trump, go fetch me a hot chocolate with marshmallows. Trump, buy me a Maserati.
Can you picture the look on Donald’s face? He’d stare at them with puckered lips, before he makes a call – not to 911, not to the Secret Service, not to the FBI, not even to Ivanka – no, he’d place a call to the Russians. That’s right – they’d be there in fifteen seconds to douse the person in mob-strength, flammable Vodka, light a match and throw it on them – Nostrovia! (now you know why mobsters light their cigarettes with matches. You can’t throw a lit cigarette lighter at a body, can you?).
“Sister Callan?”
I spin around to look at the men. “Yes?”
“All done,” the head of the bug-finding team says. “Nothing to report.”
“What? That can’t be right!”
The man shakes his head, his comb-over causing a breeze in the process. “Not a single one.” He waves the selfie stick like a flag.
“Are you sure? There must be surveillance devices.”
“Nah. We’ve combed the place for them. Nothing. Checked, doubled checked – nothing. Not even one of those cheap nanny cams.”
“And you’re certain of that?”
“Positive. We would have caught them by now. The place is clean.”
“Mm.”
“Luckily for everyone, right?”
No, not luckily. If there aren’t any camera’s around, just how did the bitch gain access to my computer files and my money? She’s gained access to just about everything and everywhere in the house, except the basement. It’s startling to think of the damage she’s done without the use of old fashion surveillance cameras.
“Ah, well, okay then.”
The men stare at me.
What? Surely, they’re not expecting to get paid? It’s the friggin’ church, for crying out loud! Have some goddamn respect!
“The Church of Light thanks you,” I say in a dismissive voice, before I turn away from them.
The men look at each other, shrug, before they slowly shuffle out of the house.
The moment they leave, I log onto my laptop, and holding my breath, I double-check my off-shore bank account. Maybe, just maybe, the money is still there. Please, please, please, let my money be there!
As I look at the screen, a feeling of utter devastation follows – the money, the one I’ve worked so hard for, has definitely vanished. My heart shatters and the pain is physical. Clover … I’m going to slice her up if I don’t get my money back. She has it. There’s no way someone can spend sixteen million dollars in such a short space of time. My guess is that she’s stashed it somewhere. In another bank account in Switzerland. (When did she get to Switzerland? How did I not notice her absence?) If she does not want to die a painful, prolonged death, she will return my money.
With my ear cocked and listening out for the sound of the chopper, I walk over to the bar, fetch a bottle of vodka (which is the only fetching I do, by the way), and take a couple of swigs from it.
What? Like you don’t drink from the bottle?

*****

CLOVER

In the chopper, Clover shifts about in her seat. Hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry up! Questions zip through her mind:
What’s happening to Angel?
What will happen to her and Colin?
Will the evil witch shoot them on sight? Has she already shot Angel? Buried her …
At the thought of her baby being hurt, at the recollection of the drawing of the child on the fridge, the cold hand of dread squeezes her heart. Please God …
Colin reaches over and slowly removes her hands from her head. She looks at him, unaware that she was holding her head. He nods – Relax, it’s going to be okay.
Clover squeezes her eyes shut, before she opens it again and looks out the window. She whiles away the time tallying her deceptions: among others … the secret DNA test of Colin and Angel, the hidden suitcases, Colin’s secret recovery, stealing Joy’s identity to worm her way into the church and hiding her real identity, stealing back Colin’s love and affections, and the grand prize – stealing millions of dollars from the wicked witch of darkness. People who steal that kind of money usually goes to prison or ends up having their throats slit. There are more crimes that she committed, too many to name, that make her believe she should run, that she should never have boarded the chopper. If it wasn’t for her baby in the clutches of that psychopath, she would never return to the Church of Light. No, she’d run and hide, leave Colin and bolt for her life.
At the sight of the church, her anxiety soars.

*****

Release date: Coming soon!

More excerpts to follow soon! Follow this blog to avoid missing out. You want to keep up with Scarlett’s underhandedness, believe me!

This is one of the books in the Girl on Fire Series. Read The Other Woman (an epic and jaw-dropping collision between a betrayed wife and a cunning seductress),  which is available on #KindleUnlimited, Please read before you read this book. 
Fans of Girl on the Train and Gone Girl, The Affair,  will love Eve Rabi’s tale of love, lust and revenge.
#RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense #StoriesofRevenge #VigilanteJustice #FreeonKindleUnlimited #LoveTriangles#TheOtherWoman

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“Wow! People are going to have to clear the schedules for this one, Eve. It’s a winner for sure! I’ve never read anything like this before. Where the hell do you get your ideas from? Never mind, just keep ’em coming.” Smashwords reviewer

cover-temptation-1-9-nov-16-medium

Eve Rabi’s 27th romantic crime & Suspense

thriller coming late November 2016!

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