Nomad Authors is happy to welcome Madison Michael and her book Bedazzled!
By Madison Michael
She’s fiercely independent. He’s thwarted by tradition – Can a brush of her hand be their brush with fate? A woman with everything to gain.
Keeli Larsen craves success on her own terms. She has no support and less money, but she has talent and big dreams. Determined not to return to the family farm, this is Keeli’s last chance to make it. It’s also her final opportunity to connect with the out-of-her-league, gorgeous man in the penthouse office – her very own Prince Charming. Although they have never spoken, a crowded elevator, a chance encounter, and a misplaced hand are about to change everything.
A man with everything to lose.
Billionaire and sexy hunk, Wyatt Lyons Howe IV is on track to inherit a family empire he doesn’t want. With dreams of his own, Wyatt is suffocating under generations of family expectations and traditions until a brief moment and a brush of a hand set Wyatt on a crash course with love. Can Wyatt turn his back on his heritage to pursue his goals following the lead of this fiery redhead. Can he forfeit his wealth for freedom? Fearing Keeli is a down-on-her-luck artist looking for a bankroll, Wyatt doubts her motives. He’s been burned in the past but can’t resist the temptation. He is bedazzled.
A challenge accepted.
Wyatt is seduced by Keeli’s spirit and the sizzling chemistry between them. Used to getting what he wants, Wyatt determines to make Keeli his own. But first he must outsmart a scheming fiancé, oppose his family and friends, overcome his doubts, and walk away from his wealth and power. And, of course, he must win her heart.
If you love sassy women and strong sexy men overcoming all odds on their road to romance, buy this steamy page turner, and meet the first of the Beguiling Bachelors.
An Excerpt from Bedazzled:
The chatter in the elevator lightened her mood immediately, reminding Keeli of all the people who had started with only a few dollars and a dream. In many cases, they had made it without knowing the language or customs of their adopted country. By comparison, she had many advantages and instantly felt better about her choice, more confident about moving forward on her own. Mr. Weinberg let her take many of her pieces with her when she left his employ. There had been no severance check, of course, but the ready inventory was a gift. Keeli let the renewed confidence surge through her body, standing straight and looking ahead. Watching her step, careful not to bump anyone with her parcel, Keeli stepped into the divide and moved toward the back.
That was the moment she saw HIM. He was the best thing – by far – about working in this building. She was standing face to face with the virile, gorgeous, sexy man she saw in the elevator regularly. Well, almost face-to-face since he was at least 4 or 5 inches taller than her statuesque 5’10”.
He was what she would miss most about this job – these random opportunities to ride the elevator and watch him, getting to stand close, allowing her imagination to run wild with fantasies – all starring him, of course.
Most of the time, he hid mysteriously behind a pair of Wayfarers, but the rain today afforded Keeli a chance to admire the intelligence and concentration in his azure eyes. He stood with his shoulders back, head towering over everyone’s Looking up, Keeli locked eyes with his, his mouth lifting in a half smile. Keeli shyly dropped her head as a blush rose to her cheeks and her heart sped up. She knew the smile was just politeness. She wanted so much more. She wanted him to notice her the way she noticed him, feel about her as she did about him.
If only he had the same visceral reaction that Keeli had to him, perhaps he would have spoken to her by now. She could not overcome her shyness to initiate a conversation, but if he longed for her as she did him…obviously, he was not interested. Now she would never see him again. Her disappointment was way out of proportion; he was a stranger. But he had this pull on her. Instead of thinking of him as a stranger, she thought of him as hers.
Hers. What a laugh. Wake up Keeli!
Everyone noticed him – man and woman alike. She saw it on elevator rides and when he traversed the lobby. Yes, he was particularly tall, a few inches over six feet. However, it was more than his height that drew the eye. He was compelling, confident, and assured. He was beyond handsome with his chiseled features, thick wavy hair and well-muscled body clad in custom suits. Keeli was drawn to him like a bee to honey. She had seen other women catch his eye, seen them smile and flirt easily. She was overwhelmingly shy when near him, preventing her from ever making him ‘hers’.
They crossed paths at the coffee kiosk or in the elevator at least once a week. She knew she was projecting her own desires, but sometimes it seemed to her that he was seeking her out. Even so, Keeli never exchanged more than a polite “hello” and he was always polite, but aloof. Although she longed for some reason to speak more than pleasantries, she was unable to move past that invisible barrier she felt between them.
Why, oh why is facing forward considered appropriate elevator etiquette? I just want to stare at him one last time. Today needs to be the day to think of something to say, some witty conversation opener. You are running out of time.
Her brain searched now for a reason to speak, knowing it was her last chance. Instead, she reluctantly turned to face the doors. He was standing so close, lazily leaning his shoulders against the back wall. She felt the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck, goosebumps traveling up her arms in response to the moist heat. She was rocked by her immediate, erotic reaction.
Reigning in her body’s response, Keeli reminded herself that the warm breath was a result of proximity, not desire. She was a non-entity to him and had been for the16 months she had worked there. His polished appearance, custom suits and elegant leather briefcase contrasted with her wild red hair, shabby jacket, scuffed boots and faded Old Navy dress. He epitomized class and privilege; she embodied shabby chic. Maybe not even chic – just shabby. She could never bridge the gulf.
About the Author:
Madison Michael is an indie publisher, blogger and the author of the Beguiling Bachelor Series as well as the novella Desire & Dessert, from her sizzling B&B Billionaire Bachelor series.
A Chicago native and hopeless romantic, Maddy was raised on Chicago culture, fairy tales, great literature and swashbuckling movies. Maddy employs that history, writing steamy contemporary romance novels set against the sumptuous backdrop of Chicago’s elite society.
After receiving a BA in Journalism from the University of Illinois and an MBA from Loyola University of Chicago, Madison abandoned her writing to find her way in the corporate business world. Daughter of a librarian, it was inevitable that she would return to the world of books.
Maddy writes from high above Chicago where she can stare at its gorgeous skyline or the shores of Lake Michigan surrounded by feline assistants. When she is not writing, Maddy can be found lost in a book, fighting for the rights of the mentally ill or dining on Chicago’s famous cuisine. Hot dogs and pizza, anyone?
Social Links:
- Website: madisonmichael.net
- Maddy’s Romance Madness: madisonmichael.net/category/mrm/
- Maddy’s Tours and Treats: madisonmichael.net/category/tours-and-
- treats/
- Facebook: facebook.com/madisonmichaelromance
- Twitter: twitter.com/madisonmichael_
- Amazon Author Page: amazon.com/Madison-Michael/e/B01EVUGG6G/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1
with. But the thing I love the most? Getting to the end! By the time I’ve told their stories, my characters go away. I’ve never been interested in carrying on their stories into other books. A reviewer once asked me to write a sequel to my paranormal erotic romance 
cleanup person Often, “the end” means the unknown, which can be pretty scary. Is that light at the end of the tunnel something good, or the 
headlight of a train heading right for you? You might not know until it’s too late!
matching socks, I can relay Susie’s whole impression, what was said to her and what she replied. This often puts the questioner to sleep with TMI, but hey! It’s a talent, right?
that, but give me any normal space and stand back for the sight of your life as I park almost like a guy with the back-up gene. Of course, I pull into a space whenever possible. No need to wear a talent out with too much practice.
mom used to collect those little Hummel figures—not the real ones. But I was never drawn into that. I’m sentimental…and yet, not. My mother-in-law once convinced me to collect pewter cups. In Virginia, pewter is readily available and some of the fine cups used for display are really beautiful. I collected three and then lost interest. Maybe I don’t have the patience to build an actual collection. However, for hoarding…I find that a little too easy.
silver serving tray, silver monogrammed drinking glasses, and silver tipped salt and pepper shakers. Nope, never used them. Kept them in the same boxes we received them. But I kept packing and moving them with us because for some reason I just couldn’t let them go. Crazy? Yeah, I think so a bit. Finally, in a wild downsize, I sent all of that stuff to the Salvation Army but—I won’t lie—it was painful.
ridiculous dust collector I picked up in Chicago, book my mom gave me fifteen years ago, etc.), so I can’t toss it away.” That’s how it goes, folks. One day I will have to say goodbye to all of it, but until then, all of that stuff is in four tubs stacked in my closet. Sigh.
Series: Deerbourne Inn (book 4)
About the Author