Saturday, June 18, 2016

Taking Jana

Taking Jana Synopsis:
It’s her turn to drive.
Men take from Jana. Her dad and brother: money. Stage-side gawkers: her dignity. Still, she finished nursing school, won a spot in Manhattan’s top ER—thanks to no man. But when her dad’s business and heart fails, ever-loyal Jana Park must return to the stripper’s pole. Now even her boss’s chauffeur ogles her in the rearview. Faux-kindness—and irrefutable heat—aside, she glares back.
Because screw ’em all.
Chauffeur Antonio Ruiz is done with his cheating wife, the city, the almighty buck. His seaside home in Mexico calls. One last gig for his biggest client, the city’s strip club king, then he’s out. Except that the sharp, exotic, petite powerhouse of a woman he’s been hired to drive—day in-day out, glaring at him with those deep, solemn eyes—takes him over. If he could pierce her shield of doubt, he’d bring her home, far from this hell.
But, no. Jana’s got to take the wheel and drive. Away from her family’s abuse, her boss’s clutches…and toward Antonio’s true brand of love.
The road’s rocky. Will they make it to paradise? Or will it all go south… in the city.

Rissa Brahm Bio:
Contemporary romance writer Rissa Brahm grew up in New York and has since lived in all four corners of the United States, and beyond. The beautiful paradise of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico—the core setting of her hot & heartfelt debut series, Paradise South—is Rissa’s most recent and beloved home.
After two decades of working in the rigid—and sometimes blurry—world of finance, she's taken hold of her truest dream, writing hot and heartfelt stories full time.
When not chained-by-choice to her MacBook, she is embarking on outdoor adventures with her husband and little girl, laughing to tears with a good rom com, eating amazing Indian food with something chocolate for dessert; reading good, hot scorchers in bed; biking, long walks, and yoga; zoning out to killer music from across the decades and the globe; and getting lost only to discover a new exciting route home again. You can connect with Rissa on Facebook, Twitter or by email anytime by heading to

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For seven plus years, she’d exposed her freshly shaven slit to hordes of lecherous men while three or four other girls slapped her ass or went at her tits like hungry kittens, but here she was, blushing from the awkward and somehow intimate wake up by Tony the Limo Driver? His gentle touch to her shoulder had sent warmth and chills through her all at once; the strange sensation still lingered as she sat up and wiped the drool from her chin. Oh God, really?
How badly she missed her solitary life; ER to home, home to ER, more or less alone. She so craved that again.
He stood outside the open door now, waiting to help her out of the limo.
“Traffic took its toll,” he said, noticing her check the time on her phone, blurry-eyed. “You know, I can take you directly to your house. It’s late and I’d prefer to bring you safely to your doorstep. I’m insured, bonded, and licensed. You don’t need to worry about security matters on my end,” he told her. His voice was thankfully mellow, matching the quiet of the night and the sleepy haze that still hung on her eyelids.
She rubbed her eyes and let out a light laugh, then shook her head. “No, no. I live upstairs. Above the restaurant. I wasn’t worried about you having my address.”
She grabbed her purse and slid out of the backseat. “I’m a New York City ER nurse. Not much scares me, least of all a chauffeur from the Jersey suburbs,” she quipped, but her sarcasm even took her by surprise. She softened then, feeling badly. “Sorry. It’s late and I’m just really tired. Thank you for getting me home. I don’t know how this works. Do I call you when I need a lift next, or…?”
“Here you go.” He reached into the compartment under his radio and handed her a business card. “During the day, I’ll be waiting wherever you are, or I’ll always only be twenty minutes away, at most, grabbing a bite or whatever. But either way, when I’m not parked where you are, just call my direct cell anytime, day or night. The Demontes have contracted me for three months solid. I’m all yours.” His cheeks blushed immediately and his eyes shot to the ground with his last words.
She pretended not to notice as she took the card from his hand with a nod of thanks and shoved it directly into her purse. “Okay, well, can you come in the morning, like at six? I’ve got to get to the hospital, Fort Lee General. Then down to the club by five.”
“Not a problem,” he said as he moved back from her, reaching for his car door.
“Let me just…” she said as she rummaged through her purse in the dark.
“No tip, please. The Demontes have handled all costs.” He gave her a mild smile, so professional, almost robot-like. He was a good-looking, well-built man, but with zero spark, no personality to speak of at all. She could tell this would be a long three months. But, again, she needed as little chatter and drama added to her pot as possible. Tony would work out fine.

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