Novels by AUTHORELLA

There are moments when people lose sight of who they are or what they’re doing. I was caught in one such moment, and the best part; I had no hesitation in embracing it. I had always maintained strict boundaries with my employees, but my intimacy with Eduardo was nothing short of revolutionary, even beyond revolutionary. He was like a beacon of light to a firefly. I couldn’t resist; I was destined to surrender and be swept away by his current.That morning was the first time in six years I woke up after sunrise. I cared about nothing except being wrapped in Eduardo’s arms. Though I slept like a baby in his embrace, I was dimly aware he’d been awake all night. His fingers stroked my hair, his soft kisses grazed my forehead, and he held me tighter every few minutes, granting me the most peaceful sleep of my adulthood. His scent was the theme of the night for me.God, if it hadn’t been for an important meeting, I would never have left his cabin that morning. I was lying on his body, my hea

Rain hammered the cabin, a relentless drum against the windows, but inside, the fire snapped, casting a warm glow across Eduardo’s sharp features. His lips crashed into mine, soft at first, then fierce, carrying the taste of salt and something wild. My fingers tangled in his damp curls, gripping tight, his heartbeat a steady thump beneath my palms.“You’re trouble,” he muttered, his lips brushing my jaw, voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down my spine.“Good trouble?” I shot back, grinning, sliding onto his lap, my flannel shirt bunching up.“The best kind,” he said, his laugh bright, eyes glinting as he kissed me again, deep and deliberate, hands settling on my waist, firm but careful. “Where’d you learn to kiss like that, Emily?”“Born with it,” I teased, nipping his ear, his chuckle rumbling against me, warm and alive. “You’re not half bad yourself, Garcia.”“Half bad?” he scoffed, pulling me closer, his grin infectious. “I’m rewriting the rulebook for you, Arquette.”“Big wor

The masquerade’s glow lingered like a fever, Eduardo’s cheeky grin at my door the night before and his words “So, you thought he was me?” dancing in my head as I slipped into bed, my silk robe whispering against my skin... And my bold reply, “An attractive one!” and that daring wink had left my heart racing, his playful gasp and “Good night, Eduardo…” echoing as I shut the door.Sleep had been a tease, tangled with his hazel eyes, gold flecked, and the dream I couldn’t bury: sand, his lips, my cries... He had saved me from a stranger’s kiss and a business trap at the ball, his warning about Sol Foods’ dried fruit deal a lifeline that sharpened my resolve. Now, dawn exploded over my island, a riot of orange and pink, urging me to shake off the haze and charge into the day.I stood at the barn’s edge, my mare Luna pawing the ground, her chestnut coat blazing under first light. Riding was my pulse, my freedom, a wild hymn before the day’s demands: calls to my team to shred Elena Marquez’s

The invitation arrived on a Wednesday, its black envelope sealed with gold wax, the Arquette crest glinting under my desk lamp. I slit it open, silk gloves brushing my fingers, and pulled out a card embossed with swirling script: Masquerade Ball, Hotel de las Estrellas, Mexico City. Saturday, 8 PM. Business attire, masks mandatory.My pulse quickened. The Estrellas ball wasn’t just a party; it was a battlefield for deals, alliances, and power plays, disguised in velvet and champagne. As CEO of Arquette Ventures, I had no such luxury of missing it. But the RSVP line taunted me: Plus one.I leaned back in my chair, the villa’s study quiet except for the distant crash of waves. My island, my sanctuary, felt too still today, its jasmine scented air heavy with expectation. A date? I had not dated in years, too busy rebuilding the family empire into something good, something mine. Friends were scarce, scattered by my wealth or my walls. Miranda, my cousin, would have jumped at the chance, bu

The world was a haze, my body heavy, slick with sweat. Eduardo’s voice cut through, urgent, anchoring me. “Ma’am!” His hands gripped my shoulders, shaking gently, but my limbs felt like liquid, slipping from his grasp. Night cloaked my bedroom, the air thick, my red wine satin nightgown clinging to my skin, straps askew. I tried to speak, but my throat burned, words dissolving into a weak rasp.“Lucia!” Eduardo shouted, his voice cracking with panic. Footsteps thundered. Lucia, the maid, burst through the door in her PJ’s, eyes wide. “Eduardo, what’s wrong?”“She is burning up, fever, maybe worse. Help me get her to the bathroom.” His arms slid under me, strong but trembling, lifting me from the bed. My head lolled against his chest, his heartbeat a rapid drum beneath my ear. The satin gown rode up, cool air brushing my thighs as he carried me, Lucia trailing, muttering prayers in Spanish.The bathroom’s tiles gleamed under dim light, cold against my bare feet as Eduardo set me down, s

I woke to the first whisper of dawn, a fragile thread of light slipping through the shutters, teasing me awake before the world fully stirred. The sky beyond my balcony was a canvas of soft pinks and golds, hues bleeding into one another like watercolor left to run wild. My island my sanctuary stretched out below, a private slice of Mexico carved from the chaos of my life, a place where the relentless clamor of the outside world could not reach me. It was more than a retreat; it was a fortress, a testament to the years I had spent clawing my way out of the shadow cast by the Arquette name. Here, surrounded by cliffs and sea, I could breathe. Here, I could pretend the past did not exist.The air was thick with the scent of salt, sharp and briny, mingling with the sweeter, headier notes of hibiscus that climbed the villa’s walls in reck