Monday, January 27, 2020

Cover Reveal: Stolen Soulmate by Mary Catherine Gebhard

        
STOLEN SOULMATE by Mary Catherine Gebhard 
Release Date: February 27th 
Cover Designer: Hang Le   
ORDER STOLEN SOULMATE TODAY!! 
Apple Books: https://apple.co/37solWH 
 
There’s a rule in Crowne Hall: never look a Crowne in the eyes.
It protects us more than them.

I broke it once, the night Grayson Crowne mistook me for his true love and stole my first kiss. I’ve regretted it every day since.

He hates me.
He torments me.

He won’t let me go, because that night he whispered a secret against my lips not meant for me. Grayson Crowne, heir to the Crowne empire and notorious playboy prince is… a virgin.

I signed a contract in my heart’s blood as much as ink: help him get back his love, repair what I broke. Give him my body, my soul, my heart, let him use all of me, so when the time comes to marry her, he won’t need me.

I shouldn’t need him.
But he’s my stolen soulmate, and I’m at his mercy.
The ink was barely dry on the pages. I don’t know if I was ready for this. Somehow I felt like I was more of a virgin than Grayson. Nervous, skittish. He’d warned me when all of this began that the things he’d seen and done would wreck me.

I should’ve believed him then.

When I didn’t do anything for a minute, he arched a brow.

Do whatever he says.

I could use my safe word, but a twisted part of me liked doing what he told me to do. Liked the rush and the way his eyes hardened. It felt like power, power over one of the most powerful people in the world.

I’d barely taken a step to him, when he ripped me to him by the small of my waist. His other hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head to the side.

“Fuck,” he said, lips at my neck. “Which part do I eat first.”

Delicious tingles spread along my skin at his words. His nose ran along my neck, goosebumps following in his wake. His hands slid from hair, from my waist, along my body, feeling every inch of me, like he couldn’t do it fast enough, before settling back in my hair.

Deliriously, I found the zipper of my dress, but his overtook mine. Stopping me.

“I’m going to ruin your white dress, Snitch. Ruin you. Until you’re all fucked up from me.”
I started writing the moment I could read. My first characters were Wibbley and Squig and I used MS Word and clipart to bring them to life when I was a kid in elementary school. I started seriously thinking about being a writer in High School and I remember the day exactly, because it was such an epiphany. I was always so uncertain. You know how everyone was always asking what you wanted to be when you were older? Well I NEVER could decide.

I wanted to be a marine biologist.

An actor.

A FIRE FIGHTER (thank you Joaquin Phoenix in Ladder 49 for that phase).

One day it hit me—A WRITER. I could do it ALL. Then you couldn’t stop me from writing. I penned my first novel at fifteen (but don’t ask me to show it to you, because it’s like I was in competition to beat the thesaurus). When I was diagnosed with a chronic illness, writing became even more important, because it became my therapy. When I wrote my characters, suddenly I wasn’t so alone.

These days you can find me daydreaming about where to travel with my husband, singing in my car, or lost in the newest K drama. And planning my next novel, of course.
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