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Want to improve your writing? Author Andrea R. Cooper’s Tip and a Look at Lyric

 

“Writing tip I wish I’d known – Get beta readers or a critique group. Having someone else’s (unrelated to you) unbiased opinion has been one of the best things I’ve done that have improved my writing. Wish I’d found readers and other writers to exchange chapters with much earlier.” ~ Andrea R. Cooper

Andrea has always created characters and stories. But it wasn’t until she was in her late twenties that she started writing novels.

What happened that ignited the writing flame in her fingers? Divorced, and disillusioned by love songs and stories. They exaggerate. She thought. Love and Romance are not like that in the real world. Then she met her husband and realized, yes love and romance are exactly like the songs and stories say. She is now a happy wife, and a mom to three kids (two boys and a girl).

Andrea writes paranormal and historical romance. When not writing or reading, one may find Andrea dancing in Zumba. She believes in the power of change and counting each moment as a blessing. But most importantly, she believes in love and that’s clear in her latest release—Lyric.

No man can resist a siren’s song…

Cassie must convince a CEO to give her interior decorating company a chance at his offices in order to stay in the black. But even using her half-siren voice, he refuses. What can she do to change his mind?

Daniel Davis has a secret he’s paid hundreds of thousands to keep that way. Now when exotic Cassie marches into his office, he can’t stop thinking about her and makes her an offer. Be his date for a high-profile party and he’ll consider her company for his office redecorating project.

After an accident, Cassie gives Daniel her blood to heal him. Trouble is, if she can’t keep him alive, he’ll become a soulless ghoul.

Worse, someone is out to kill him. Can Cassie keep him alive…both in fighting her nature and from whoever is after him?

 

Here’s an excerpt:

An hour and forty-five minutes later, Cassie fumed as she paced in front of Mr. Davis’ receptionist. Not only had Davis not contacted her, but no one knew when his blasted meeting would end. All she had to do was tell him that her corporation was the best choice. He’d hear her siren singing, sign the papers immediately, and she’d be on her vacation to the Bahamas knowing her company would be set for the next five years. While she hadn’t had more than three days off in over a decade, she wanted a break knowing all of her employees would be okay. Not that she couldn’t tell someone to pay for her trip with her voice, but she enjoyed working. Earning money with her decorating talents, even if she did have to persuade her clients in a few situations. Like this one.

She smoothed her skirt and frowned when emerald sparkles coated her palm. The spell to keep the sparkles in place must be wearing off. Without it, she’d leave pieces of glitter trailing the floor after her as though someone had hacked up a pixie. Tomorrow she’d take this to the cleaners and have the witches there reapply the sealing magic. Her heels clicked on the bamboo flooring. A few paintings were hung up sporadically. One was even of a clown and a dog. Yes, Mr. Davis needed her.

“How much longer?” Cassie faced the young receptionist, revealing her hidden razor teeth underneath the human ones. “I’m not used to waiting this long for a client.”

“Uh… I’ll go check.” The woman nearly ran out of the reception area, her headset swinging from the chair.

Cassie chuckled. Ah, well at least someone jumped when she wanted.

A few minutes passed and Cassie wondered if the girl was lost.

“How can I help you?” a deep male vibrato came from behind her, laden with an accent she couldn’t place. Exotic. Sexy.

“Yes, I’m waiting for Mr. Davis.” She smiled.

The man was at least six foot five because she had to tilt her head up to look at him. He had gray eyes framed with even darker lashes and dark chestnut hair. His commanding presence sparked her interest, but he wore beige trousers and a cotton shirt. She wrinkled her nose; she couldn’t possibly be seen with someone who considered brown and cotton acceptable outwear in a prestige corporation.

“Allow me to escort you to his office?” He offered his arm.

“Of course.” She accepted his offering and nodded to the receptionist who gaped at the two of them.

This must be Mr. Davis’ assistant, as an executive of such an established enterprise would wear a suit or more expensive clothing, and definitely not cowboy boots in the workplace. Jeans and boots reminded her of Texas.

Even though the man didn’t say anything, he stole quick glances her way. He probably admired her siren features: a small sharp nose, angled cheekbones, and colorful hair. Her hair changed color on its own. Thankfully though, the shifting was subtle enough that humans didn’t notice it. They just thought she dyed it often. Today it was an electric violet.

Outside two redwood doors carved in squares, he paused. “Shall we?”

For some reason, nerves careened in her stomach. What the heck was the matter with her? He was just a man. Sure, a bazillionaire, but no man could resist her. An image of the deaf and mute fisherman who had captured her in his net centuries ago resurfaced. She’d hated confinement and all her succubae friends who had been there had laughed and taunted her.

‘Why don’t you touch him and make him yours, Cassandra?’ one succubus had asked, swinging her hips side-to-side.

Another smirked. ‘Has your boasting made you hoarse?’

It had been her friend, Adeline, who had swum over, touched the man, and rescued her. But Cassie had taken her revenge. All those heckling succubae were dead now.

“Are you okay?” The man squeezed her hand.

Warmth spread through her arm. Maybe she was coming down with a cold or something. Damn, she’d been spending too much time among these humans; now she caught their illnesses? Yuck.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She straightened and pulled her hand from his grasp. “Thank you, but I can take it from here.” After two quick knocks on the door, she entered and stepped into another world.

A rosewood desk was in front of a window overlooking the city. A bright green Cleopatra chair sat before a wall lined with books arranged by color and size, and filled shelves around it. Gold and silver etched vases were positioned at key areas among the bookshelves. Two visitor chairs with crimson and black swirls faced the desk. A Rembrandt painting, the Stone Bridge, hung from the opposite wall. It was the only time he painted such a typical Dutch landscape. The contrast between the dark clouds and sunlight shining off the railing and trees was amazing.

The door closed behind her, and she sucked in a breath.

“Mr. Davis, I—” She stopped.

Near the mini bar tucked in a corner, the assistant poured a drink. “Would you care for something?” His dark gaze watched her, making her think he wanted to feel every centimeter of her.

Oh no, her blasted gift had done it again. She’d seduced someone without even trying. “Ah no. When will Mr. Davis return?” Last thing she needed was the big boss to come in and find his employee drunk and putting the moves on her.

He shrugged and downed the drink in one swallow. Then he brushed past her to the desk. He rifled through some documents, then tossed her a crisp paper. “I think you’ll find everything in order, Mrs. Smith.”

“Ms.” She briskly took the note and scanned it.

Lincoln Industries’ has won our bid for redecorating our buildings.

Thank you for your time.

“What’s this?” She waved the rejection letter. “We haven’t even revealed our pricing yet. I’ve seen their work; they aren’t as good as me – as my company.” She added a lilt to the last line, shifting to her siren song to make him believe fully in what she said. He’d rip up the form and beg her to take the job. Of course, she would have to bump into his boss and do the same thing until she got what she wanted.

“Did I forget to sign it?” He pulled out a pen from the desk and scribbled a signature. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ms. Smith, I’ve another meeting to attend to.”

This was Mr. Davis? No way was he leaving now. Not until he told Lincoln Industries they’d lost the work and she had it. Not until he burned this piece of paper dismissing her. No man ever dissed a siren.

Buy Link Lyric:

 

Amazon 99cents Or Free on KU : http://a.co/c64SbkO

Author Website: www.AndreaRCooper.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AndreaRCooper.author

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndreaRCooper