Serena Bell makes her Loveswept debut with the captivating story of a woman living on the edge—and the man who’s destined to love her.
Ana Travares has been looking over her shoulder her whole life. Her U.S. visa expired when she was a young girl, and if her secret is discovered, she’ll be forced to return to the Dominican Republic. Ana allowed herself to get close to someone once before—and after he broke her heart, she swore never to make the same mistake again. But when a handsome doctor asks for her assistance, she fantasizes about breaking all her rules.
Even though pediatrician Ethan Hansen is a natural when it comes to little kids, as the single father of a teenage son he just can’t seem to get it right . . . except for the Spanish tutor he’s hired for his son, Theo. Ana has managed to crack Theo’s shell—and he isn’t the only one taken with her. The sexy tutor has fired up Ethan with a potent mix of lust and protectiveness. But as he starts to envision a future with Ana, Ethan is devastated to learn the truth about her citizenship. Somehow he’s got to find a way to help her—and hold on to the woman he’s falling hopelessly in love with.
What I Need to Write
I’m so excited to be visiting Miss Ivy’s Book Nook today as part of my Yours to Keep blog tour. Yours to Keep is the story of Ana, a Dominican immigrant with an expired visa, and Ethan, the super-hot pediatrician whose son she tutors in Spanish. Ana has neglected to tell Ethan that she’s undocumented, which is fine until Ethan starts to fall for her. How deep will his feelings go before he learns her secret? And what will he do when he does?
Today I’m talking about what I need to write. I have a very elaborate computer set up cobbled together from the most random spare parts. I have a laptop chained to a giant monitor set on top of three fat books. The books are stacked on a monitor stand that I made myself. It’s covered with three different kinds of fabric — denim, pink and purple fleece, and pink polka dot cotton. It’s also lined with fur. I don’t know anything about feng shui, but I feel like all the soft stuff on the monitor stand is meant to somehow cancel out all the gray and black equipment and wires.
To keep my keyboard tilted at the right angle, I use two coasters. At the moment, I have two mice because the Bluetooth one sometimes flakes out. I sit in an adjustable-height drafting chair, because my desk is very high, and I use an ordinary bed pillow folded in half behind my back to prop me up straight.
I require bubble gum and dark chocolate to write. The chocolate must be dark, but not too dark — 75% cacao is my upper limit. I also chew Trident sugarless bubble gum when I get writer’s block. Sometimes I chew a ridiculous amount—three slices at a time, chain-chewing. I can usually tell what kind of writing day it has been by how many gum wrappers are on the desk. More wrappers usually translates to more words, although sometimes it just means more writer’s block.
I have a baby monitor on my desk, the base of which is downstairs in my kitchen. My office is tucked into the back of our master closet—
—this makes me sound like I live in a mansion, but I swear, I don’t – it’s just that the people who built this house put a huge proportion of its square footage into this closet. The woman who lived here before me owned many pairs of boots and an entire rack of sunglasses. Most of the space previously occupied by her clothes is now filled with my romance novels. Sometimes I think there’s a ghost version of her in here, squinting at me in confusion, like, What the heck did you do with my clothes and what are all these smexy books?—
—anyway, the baby monitor is so I can hear things that happen in the rest of the house, like the doorbell ringing, or the washing machine overflowing, or my children coming home from school. The monitor is ten years old, but it does the trick.
Other than whatever sounds are coming through the monitor, I work in silence. I can only listen to music if it doesn’t have lyrics. I keep vowing that I’m going to listen to more music—classical, jazz … also, okay, confession: Enya—when I work.
I also need Twitter. Otherwise, it’s just way too solitary in here. I don’t tweet all day long, but I do like to check in periodically, because it’s my water cooler. I’d love to have you join me, @serenabellbooks.
What music do you listen to when you work? Do you have food/candy vices? If so, please tell me what, or tell me what kind of gum you like to chew and what kind of chocolate you like to eat.
Serena Bell writes stories about how sex messes with your head, why smart people do stupid things sometimes, and how love can make it all better. She wrote her first steamy romance before she was old enough to understand what all the words meant and has been perfecting the art of hiding pages and screens from curious eyes ever since—a skill that’s particularly useful now that she’s the mother of two school-age children.
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