Today, I'm sharing a snippet from Break Me, my upcoming dark romance novel which releases on June 14th! And... I'm revealing the fabulous cover designed by Jay Aheer! <3 Check it out!
He thought she was perfect, but she’s the broken doll on the shelf.
The last thing Ayla Clark remembers is celebrating her performance as Giselle and flirting with the handsome, Grisha Vasiliev, . Now, she’s tied up and at his mercy, begging for more of his attention, while fighting to keep her own secrets buried in the dark.
Coming June 14th 2017
And thus it begins. Mid-Week Tease:
Grisha Vasiliev entered the ballet studio. His five-hundred-dollar leather shoes squeaked against the vinyl floor. He frowned and stood to one side, away from the other spectators, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. The velvety smoothness of the piano chords playing from the speakers wrapped around him like the touch of a lover’s caress.
“Down, up, down, plie, tendu, pli-plie.”
Anton Phillip, the ballet master of his company, drilled instructions from the front of the room across a floor-to-ceiling mirror. A group of close to forty dancers aged fifteen and over followed his commands. They were there to learn and take their technique to the next level with the best: Anika Vasiliev’s ballet company.
His business. Grisha not only owned the city’s ballet company, which included dancers, an orchestra, managerial and support staff. He also had schools for both children and adults. Furthermore, he employed permanent staff of craftsmen for prop and costume design, as well as his own physiotherapists and physical trainers.
“Your back must turn you around, not your knee, your back. Observe,” Phillip called out.
Grisha swept his gaze around the room. His breath caught. There she was. In the front row, a few feet to the left of Phillip. She was unmistakable in her red leotard with the low scooped back and black skirt.
She was his reason for coming to today’s master class. He’d seen her name in the registry list and he knew he had to see her up close.
Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her choice of outfit. Her dark hair, which she had pulled into a bun, caused her aquiline nose to stand out. She kept her attention on Phillip as he demonstrated the movement. She copied him.
“That’s it,” Phillip praised her.
Ayla smiled. Full lips pressed tightly together, eyes downcast. Grisha cocked his head. Always the same. He had been observing her for the past few months and her smiles were never wide or open. For him, it appeared as if she were pleased but didn’t want to show it. Either that or she felt she wasn’t good enough.
Yet, her technique was flawless. Her body lithe and flexible. When she danced, her spirit showed through and true joy reflected on her face. Those were the moments he hated her.