Dangerous Beauty Book Blog Tour and #Giveaway #LoneStarLit

What is the price of freedom?

Liliana Vela hates the term victim. She’s not a victim, she’s a fighter. Stubborn and strong with a quiet elegance, she’s determined to take back her life after escaping the clutches of human traffickers. But she can’t stay safely in America–unless the man who aided in her rescue is serious about his unconventional proposal to marry her.

Meric Toledan was just stopping at a service station for a bottle of water. Instead, he becomes the key to Liliana’s rescue. If he can keep his secrets hidden, his wealth and position afford him many resources to help her. But the mysterious buyer who funded her capture will not sit idly by while his prize is stolen from him.

PRAISE FOR DANGEROUS BEAUTY:

“Do not start this book until you have the time to read it in one gulp. This is a really fresh twist on a marriage of convenience with the potential for pages of suspense. The hero and heroine are each hugely compelling, and I just wanted to protect them both. It’s also a sweet story of the healing power of hope. Highly recommend this novel for those who adore romantic suspense with a fresh twist.” —Cara Putman, award-winning author of Flight Risk and Lethal Intent

“Koslin brings the underworld of human trafficking to life in a gripping yet redemptive plot.” –Booklist

 

 

 

 

 

EXCERPT FROM

DANGEROUS BEAUTY

by Melissa Koslin

 

Chapter One

 

 

She ran.

She’d finally orchestrated an opportunity, and she’d run.

Twigs snapped under her bare feet. She hardly felt the pain. It was the sound that rattled through her. They’ll hear. They’ll find me.

She ran faster.

Branches reached out and scraped her skin.

She slipped on some wet leaves but managed to stay on her feet.

She couldn’t breathe, but she kept going.

To her left, she could hear cars. It didn’t sound like a freeway, but maybe a rural highway. Should I try to hitchhike? But the thought of getting into a car with another stranger was too much. She needed to get as far away as quickly as she could, but she wasn’t getting into a car with anyone. Logically, she knew the likelihood of finding someone as bad as those she was running from was remote, but logic wasn’t forefront for her. Right now was flight mode. Survival.

Darkness started to close around her like a cage.

Go deeper into the woods and stay there tonight? She thought about rest, that she needed to stop and sleep at some point, but she couldn’t get her legs to stop running. She’d run miles already. She’d probably collapse before finding enough control to get herself to stop.

Lights in the distance.

Flee mode subsided slightly. Her survival instincts screamed at her to stay away from people, but she knew she couldn’t stay out here in the woods the rest of her life, however long that ended up being. If she were back home, she’d have a fighting chance, but she didn’t know this area, what kinds of animals were native, which plants were edible. As she slowed her pace, she realized how cold it was.

She approached the edge of the woods and peered around a tree to the source of the lights—a truck stop. There were so many gas pumps she couldn’t count them. There were big semitrucks with their rumbling engines that made her nerves feel like lit matches. They sounded just like the truck she’d been thrown into back home, the one that had taken her over the border to this country. That was actually better than what she’d been living through the last several days. On the truck, there had been many women. They’d had one another for warmth, for comfort.

She hid behind the tree. Since when had that nightmare on the truck morphed into a positive memory? They’d lost a few of the women—a couple of them just didn’t wake up, and one had suffered a heart attack, she was fairly certain. But she was almost thankful they’d been taken early. It was a better fate.

The chill seeped into her bones, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

She looked over at the truck stop—warmth, a restroom where she could wash. She dearly wished she had some money. She hadn’t eaten in two days. And she couldn’t steal; her parents had raised her to be honorable, even when it was difficult, especially when it was difficult. But maybe she could find some food in a garbage can.

Carefully, she analyzed the area, identified all entrances and exits, watched the people. They looked so different here. But they didn’t appear to be particularly threatening.

She stood straight, took a breath, and pulled her fingers through her long, black hair. Hopefully her appearance didn’t draw too much attention. As she walked across the grass, she tried to wipe the dirt off her feet. All while watching every person, every vehicle.

She moved quickly across the asphalt and into the store. It was huge. There were cases and cases of cold drinks, shelves of food, even two different fast-food restaurants. She made herself ignore the bottles of water so close and headed straight for the ladies’ restroom. Mercifully, it was empty. She turned on a faucet, washed her hands, and drank. She filled her cupped hands over and over. Then she washed her face, her hands, her arms. She glanced at the door and decided to risk washing her lower half as well. She lifted her dress and rapidly washed. Maybe she could blend in, disappear, if she was clean enough. She was drying off her feet with rough paper towels when the door opened. She watched the middle-aged woman peripherally but didn’t make eye contact.

The woman said something. Liliana thought maybe she was asking if she was okay, but with the woman’s American accent and how flustered Liliana was, she wasn’t sure. When Liliana looked up, the woman was staring at her, at the bruises on her arms and legs.

She stood, walked into a stall, and locked it.

The woman paused but then used the restroom, washed her hands, and left.

She stood there in the stall and stared at a sticker on the back of the door, written in both English and Spanish. “Human trafficking. Do you need help?”

****

Meric parked and got out of his car. He glanced down at the other entrance before walking inside the store. As he passed the counter, he overheard a middle-aged woman telling the cashier, “I asked her if she was okay, but she just locked herself in a stall. She looked pretty battered.”

Meric turned and headed for the hall that led to the restrooms.

He stopped outside the ladies’ room.

****

She waited long enough that the woman should be done in the store and back in her car, walked out of the stall, ignoring her image in the mirror, and headed for the door.

She peeked into the hall before slipping out the door.

A strong hand grabbed her arm.

 

Click to read all of Chapter One!

 

 

 

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