Showing posts with label Meet a Character Friday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Meet a Character Friday. Show all posts

Friday, April 29, 2016

MEET ANGIE MEYERS FROM ALL SHE WANTED

Today, in Meet a Character Friday,  I'm very pleased to present Angie Meyers, a kickasss helicopter pilot and a single mom from Kathryn Jane's upcoming novel All She Wanted, book 6 from her Intrepid Women Series. Of course, life for Angie presents all types of trouble, especially when the man she loves, pig-headed Dr. Matthias Alejandro Martinez, places her happily ever after on hold. Add to the mix of frustration a terrifying element:  a group of organized criminals are threatening her brother's children. This is the beginning of a thrilling ride (I can well imagine Angie showing us a hell of a helicopter ride!). Oh, and did I mention that there is a secret? Yep, Angie has a secret - the identity of her son's father, known only to her.
Intrigued?  Tantalized?
Read on for a small snippet and get your pre-order in. Novel debuts in April 30!!

Angie Meyers is the red-head on the upper right. Seems to love life, and her kid. if only the man she loves would fall in line and nasty criminals stop threatening her family. Well, she's the type of woman who will definitely take matters into her own hands. After all, she needs to make sure her future follows her long-term plans.


EXCERPT:
“I. Don’t. Do. Christmas.”
Angie resisted the impulse to argue. Their relationship had been on his terms for years, and for a very good reason. But this time Dr. Matthias Alejandro Martinez was just being stubborn.
And she still had four months to strategize. To convince him how important it was to spend Christmas at the ranch with her and their son. Until now, she’d never argued, never asked for anything, believed she had no choice but to go along with him because that’s what you did when you were in love with a heart-stoppingly gorgeous man who didn’t exist in the real world.
“Are we good here?”
Oh, not by a long shot, pal. “You know I have to be gone, like, ten minutes ago.”
He reached out with the sureness of an old lover and ran a fingertip along her jawbone, cupped her chin. “Will you kiss me goodbye?”
He always asked, never took. And, dammit, she couldn’t look into those serious blue eyes and deny the man anything. He’d been making her crazy for years, so why would it change now? She lifted to her tiptoes, and slid her fingers into the thick, unruly hair brushing the back of his white collar. “I hate you,” she said and dragged his mouth down to hers.
“I know.” Hands on her butt, he lifted her off her feet, and just when she was afraid the top of her head was going to blow off, the vibration of his cell made her groan.
“You programmed that, didn’t you?”
He set her down with a sexy chuckle and slipped on heavy, black-rimmed glasses to check the display. “I have to take this.”
“No worries. I need to be gone anyway.”
Before she could turn away, he caught her hand, ran his teeth across the knuckles, then put the phone on speaker. “Martinez, stand by.”
Angie closed the door softly behind her and made it halfway to the stairwell before she stopped. She could go back, make him understand how important Christmas was for her, why she was making plans in September. She gave her head a shake. No. And no point standing here looking like an idiot, either. Every inch of this place was on video monitor…except for the offices, washrooms and private suites. ETCETERA acknowledged few boundaries, but certain privacies were respected.
By the time she traversed a complex network of tunnels and reached the secure warehouse where her ride was stashed, she’d managed—as always—to put things in perspective. She loved a man who couldn’t follow the regular rules of relationships. A man who lived outside societal norms, underground—literally—and she was one of the few people who even knew he was alive.
She pressed her hand against the black surface of the biometric palm reader and waited until the door of the man trap opened. Once inside, she stared into the retina scanner until it beeped, then waited beside her reflection on the wall of one-way glass.
She wasn’t one to primp in front of a mirror, but she did run her fingers through her short hair to straighten what she called a man-cut—but Matt called sexy when he had his mouth on her sensitive neck.
Suddenly overwarm, she undid the top button of her flight suit, pushed up the sleeves, and sighed with relief when the lock finally snicked open.
She nodded to the guard on duty. “I’ll have the machine out of here in five.”
“Need help?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it.” She strode to the small but powerful black helicopter—nicknamed the Bug—and pushed buttons on the portable landing mat where it was perched. She was grateful to be back functioning in a way that made sense. Every action had a purpose and a consequence. Order mattered. Machines and flight she understood, but people confused the hell out of her.
The door lifted and the craft slid out into the bright light of day, where she went through the well-ordered steps, beginning with a walk-around, then climbing in to deal with switches, buttons, gauges and readings. Like a familiar dance, she sailed through the steps, and once the rotor RPMs were in the green, lifted off and navigated the crowded urban airspace.
Not until reaching a comfortable cruising altitude did she allow herself to tune back in to her personal life. To Matthias and the Christmas Dilemma.
One disadvantage of loving a man with a brilliant mind was the sound reasoning for his decisions. But Angie never backed away from a challenge. Ever. And losing gracefully was something she’d never been very good at.
Fortunately, the flight was long, and by the time her corner of NE Texas came into sight, she had a plan.



Out on April 30, 2016

Pre-order links:

Author Bio:
Kathryn Jane writes the popular Intrepid Women Series—novels filled with mystery, suspense, adventure, psychic abilities, and romance. Think MacGyver, I Love Lucy, Criminal Minds, the Mentalist, and James Bond.

Addicted to the ocean, award winning author Kathryn Jane lives on the west coast of Canada with Bear, her fabulous feline assistant, and a devoted mutt to keep her charming prince company while she’s busy penning fast-paced mysteries and adventures about Kickass Women and the Men who Dare to Love them...  

Keep in touch with the author:
Website: http://kathrynjane.com/





Friday, April 22, 2016

MEET TONY MATTHEWS FROM AN HONORABLE WISH

Today, in Meet a Character Friday, I'm proud to present Tony Matthews, the handsome rake from An Honorable Wish, book two from the A Lady's Wish series by author Eileen Richards. Tony Matthews spends his time in London’s most notorious gambling dens, frittering away his fortune. But when his latest victory leaves a man ruined, Tony knows he’s reached his lowest point. Determined to make amends, he returns home to his family’s country estate with plans to settle down and marry at last. And he hopes the lovely Juliet Townsend will help him—if only he can keep his disgrace a secret.
Juliet’s secret wish has always been for Tony to love her. The only bright spot in her dreadful London season was dancing with him—before he disappeared to the card rooms. Now, he’s returned, but has he truly changed? Or will gambling always be his mistress, even if she becomes his wife? And does Juliet dare risk her heart by finding out?
Oh, my! Will these two have a future together, especially when another suitor reveals Tony's gambling past to Julie?

Tony is affable, charming, and handsome (those eyes!). He's also addicted to gaming and realizes it when he decides to come home to the Lake District to correct his mistakes.

Excerpt:
He had an uncontrollable urge to punch something. Hard. His hands fisted.
“Well done, Matthews,” Bartleby said as he leaned against a tree, near enough to have witnessed the entire scene.
“Have you removed your belongings from Horneswood?”
“Of course,” Bartleby said with a sneer. “You had the housekeeper watch while I packed. I’m on my way to the village inn for the night.”
Good riddance. Tony was glad to see the back of Bartleby. Tony started for the Lodge.
“I want the chance to win Horneswood back,” Bartleby shouted.
Tony stopped and turned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Horneswood. It was in my family until my father lost it in a bet. Ironic, isn’t it?”
Tony hesitated but said nothing, waiting. There was always more to the deal, especially with desperate men. Bartleby’s tone had that note of desperation to it.
“The estate should have gone to me when my mother died. I want the chance to win it back.”
Tony was out of his mind for even considering it, but the urge to ruin this man who had ruined his chance of happiness was stronger than anything he’d felt before. He could stop Bartleby. Exact a revenge from which he would never recover. Temptation raged in him.
“If I win?” Tony was almost surprised when the words fell out of his mouth. He needed this game. He needed to quash Bartleby like the insect he was. Tony fought the urge to rub his hands together in glee. He could end this now. Leave Bartleby destitute, crawling back to his family with nothing. “What do you have that I want?”
“Money.”
Blunt Bartleby probably had skimmed off the estate for the last few years he’d been in Beetham. Tony thought about what Bartleby had done to the Williams family and the other tenants on the estate. He thought of Jules and what she’d want. If he won, beat Bartleby, it would avenge everything the man had done. Temptation reeled him in like a fat fish on a hook.
Except Tony wasn’t that man any longer. “No.”
Tony walked away, leaving Bartleby sputtering in rage.
“I’ll ruin you in this village, Matthews,” Bartleby shouted after him. “I have connections that will ensure you can never show yourself in Town. I’ll ruin your brother. He’ll not be able to do business in England.”
Tony turned toward Bartleby in a red haze of anger. He reared back and punched Bartleby, knocking him on his ass. “I don’t give a damn what you do to me, but if I hear that you speak one lie about my family, I will have you thrown in jail for attempted murder.”
Bartleby stood and picked up his hat, knocking the dirt from it. “I have done nothing wrong.”
Tony laughed harshly. “Don’t be too certain.”




Buy Links:


Author's Biography:
Eileen Richards has been writing for most of her life. Poetry, totally inappropriate answers to essay questions in school, and interesting error codes during her 30 year IT career has prepared her for the manic world of publishing.
She writes sassy regency romps set in the small villages of England where the rules are bent a bit and gossip rules the day.
Eileen resides with her husband and their diva of a greyhound in North Carolina.


Keep in touch with the author:



Friday, March 18, 2016

MEET VALENTINE LOBO FROM THE FIFTH MOON'S WOLF

Today, in Meet a Character Friday, I'm very pleased to present Valentine Lobo from Monica LaPorta's soon to be released The Fifth Moon's Wolf novel, the first novel in The Fifth Moon's Tales series (release date is April 19 - so pre-order now). If you love Paranormal Romance with elements of a steamy space opera, this is your novel! Several hundreds of years ago, humanity had left Earth and the shifters were among the first to board the space stations escaping from the dying planet. During the long voyage in deep space, mutations changed the paranormal passengers altering their lives forever. As a result, shifters lost their ability to reproduce and enrolled geneticists to ensure their survival.
Enter Valentine Lobo, the last werewolf left in all the Coral System and the undisputed leader of planet Lupine. He has been waiting for his genetically engineered bride for centuries, and he has no time to court Mirella Canalis, the young woman whose only reason to exist is to give the alpha werewolf an heir.  This alpha is expecting a naïve and sweet, and probably malleable, bride but, what if Mirella isn't what he expects? Sparks could fly on that wedding night!  Would love to be a fly on the wall - but, wait I can read the novel!!

Oh, my!! Now this is a hunk. Jason Momoa is the author's vision for Valentine. He sure is a vision of arrogance, with domineering qualities. But he has the weight of the House of Lobo's survival on his shoulders. What will be the outcome of this arranged marriage with Mirella?  And what happens when he falls for his wife?

Excerpt:


His wolf pacing in his head, Valentine left the bed with an exasperated sigh and walked to the liquor cabinet by the arched window.
Outside, the Fifth Moon shone pale blue against the purple night sky. Sidera Prima, the orbital station, cast a long shadow over the mountain ridge of the Caucasum, reminding everyone on Lupine of their terrestrial origins.
“Are you pleased with me, Sir?” Ronda purred from the tangle of linens.
The dark four-poster canopy took most of the wall opposite the window, dwarfing the redhead at its center. The burgundy drapery matched the long curtains framing the arch. The fabric was heavy damask silk salvaged from his private quarters on Sidera Prima.
“You should talk less.” Lifting the heavy barrel with the H and M black letters etched on the wooden staves, Valentine poured a good two fingers of Laurum into a frosted glass goblet.
The viscous drink sloshed inside the walls of the chalice, coating the surface with a deep, powdery red. Aged seventy-five revolutions, the Laurum was a wedding gift from House Martelli. After the Brotherhood of the Wolf, his own house, the vampires had been the first sending congratulations for Valentine’s impending nuptials.
“Would you require my service after the ceremony?” Ronda moved sinuously on the bed, prowling on all fours like a hungry cat.
“You know I won’t.” With a flick of his wrist, Valentine dismissed the courtesan, who, still naked, jumped off the high bed and scampered toward the back door that led into the servants’ passages.
Hungry, he rang the bell to call his majordomo. Aldo’s steps echoed throughout the main hallway and stopped before Valentine’s bedroom a moment later.
“What can I do for you, Master Lobo?” Aldo asked from the door.
Lanky and lean, the majordomo was an example of how humanity had adapted to Lupine’s low gravity, whereas Valentine’s massive build was the epitome of a Terran. Although he had not been born and raised on ye olde Earth, Valentine shared all the traits of his werewolf ancestors: tall, muscular, with an unruly mane, and a propensity to rage.
“I want to eat something before I leave for the ceremony.” As he walked to the breakfast table by the fireplace, Valentine grabbed the black kimono he had thrown to the floor. He put on the garment but didn’t tie it around his waist, letting the silky fabric flap around his back.
“Refreshments will be ready in ten minutes.” Aldo bowed but didn’t leave.
Passing his hand through his long, dark chestnut hair, Valentine made a mental note to ask his barber to trim it to shoulder length. “What is it?”
“If I may say something—” His eyes facing the floor, Aldo bowed lower.
“Say it already.” Valentine plaited his mane in a thick braid.
“Your spouse is young and innocent.” Aldo’s voice trailed as he stepped backward, retreating into the safety of the hallway.
“And?” Valentine asked.
One of the mechanical dusters worked its way through the leather-bound tomes resting on the fireplace shelf. Their wrought-iron spindly legs and the black, round bodies always reminded him of the spiders that had once populated the space station. Their constant whirring and humming could be heard throughout Lobo Mansion and had become the sound of home to Valentine. He could spend hours watching their inner clockwork gears rotate, intersecting in a constant loop that created energy.
Stirring Valentine from his thoughts, Aldo continued, “And her life will be short compare to yours—”
“And?” Valentine repeated.
If only Aldo knew how short would be his bride’s life… but that was Valentine’s personal burden to bear.
Everyone on Lupine knew of what being a Fifth Moon’s Wife entailed. It was an unparalleled privilege for the family who raised the bride, and her sacrifice for the greater good of the Brotherhood was widely recognized. Statues would be erected in her honor. Valentine’s mother had her effigies displayed in the Goddess’ Temple, and every day women lit votive candles under the bronze sculpture.
Only a few people knew that his wife wouldn’t survive the year. 
“She’s only twenty-five years old—” Aldo paused as if to gather his thoughts. “And she must be scared. You might remember that… when you are alone with her later tonight—” As soon as Aldo finished his halting speech, he left.








Pre-Order Buy Links:
Amazon universal link http://hyperurl.co/feqvo3
Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-fifth-moon-s-wolf


Author's Bio:
Monica La Porta landed in Seattle several years ago. Despite popular feelings about the Northwest weather, she finds the mist and the rain the perfect conditions to write. Being a strong advocate of universal acceptance and against violence in any form and shape, she is also glad to have landed precisely in Washington State. She writes love stories in every shade of romance, from futuristic to paranormal, fantasy, and even contemporary, depending on her mood. Stop by her blog to read about her miniatures, sculptures, paintings, and her beloved beagle, Nero. Sometimes, she also posts about her writing.


Author can be reached:
Monica La Porta's blog: www.monicalaporta.com
Monica La Porta’s Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/monicalaportaauthor/


Friday, March 4, 2016

MEET CARSON DRAKE OF UNTOUCHABLE BY ELIZABETH SAFLEUR

Today, in Meet a Character Friday, I have the extreme pleasure to present hottie, steamy, Dominant Carson Drake from the novel Untouchable, book two from the Elite Doms of Washington series by author Elizabeth SaFleur.  If you are into Erotica, this is your author - she is incredible! And you will love Carson, a wealthy Washington, D.C. corporate attorney and seasoned Dominant, who has perfected the romantic pre-emptive strike. One weekend is all he needs or wants, and every relationship is over before it begins. Of course, then he meets London Chantelle, and all his assumptions about love crumble. (I love it when the man thinks he has all the cards and then, wham!, he is blind-sided!)


According to the author, this model is the image of Carson. She doesn't know who he is (and she doesn't own the rights), but his looks are all she imagined Carson to be. 

Excerpt:

Carson herded London toward the private rooms. She stopped short when they reached a gothic-arched doorway.
     “Where are we going?” she asked.
     “Someplace more quiet.”
     “What if I don’t want to?”
     “Then you don’t have to.” He dropped his hold on her waist.
     “Just talking?”
     “Yes. Witnesses saw us leave. You’re safe.”
     She let Carson pull her through the massive door, held open by a bodyguard. He moved them down an expansive hallway. Only after ushering her inside the last door at the end did he let go of her elbow. She immediately crossed her arms.
     “It’s okay, sugar. I’m not going to hurt you," he said.

     “I’m meeting someone.”
     “Oh?”
     “Yes, so I can’t stay long.” She worked her bottom lip and shuffled her weight from foot to foot. Her eyes also darted to the bed in the corner. Perhaps she thought he’d take her right away? She knew his identity. She should know he was committed to due diligence. And he had to know why she was here—the last place on earth he’d expect London Chantelle.
     He sat in one of two cushioned chairs set before a lit fireplace. He appreciated her luscious curves, beautifully illuminated by the amber glow of the low fire.
     “Sit.” He beckoned her to join him.
     “I like standing.”
   “Sit.” The commanding tones of a Dom brought the expected result. As she lowered herself into the chair, her ponytail licked one shoulder. “Your hair is beautiful in this light,” he said. “More golden brown than I noticed before.”
     She swallowed. “Thank you, um . . . I go by Tatiana.”
     “It doesn’t suit you. Why not go with, say . . . London?”
     Her mouth dropped to an “O” in alarm, and she leapt from her seat.
     “Sit. Down.” He pointed to the chair.
     “Please.” Her hazel eyes implored lenience, and her tone of voice surprised him. He liked the beseeching quality. It was quite a departure from her customary unadulterated demand.
    “Please what? You thought a simple mask and change of clothing meant I wouldn’t recognize you?”
     “I hoped . . . maybe . . . I can’t do this.”
     Before she could complete two steps, he’d risen from his chair and laid his hand on her shoulder. She stopped. He pressed his torso against her back, sending her firm ass into his crotch. He decided to like her stiletto boots. He was a tall man and they made her the perfect height. He waited to see if she’d object, at which point he’d back off. 
      She didn’t move.
     Carson pulled off the elastic holding her hair captive. A curtain of gold-laced chestnut silk cascaded free. He brushed her mane to one side and bared her shoulder. “That’s better.”
     Her breathing sped up. “You said just talking.”
     “Still, sweetness.” He inhaled her scent of Ivory soap and cinnamon Christmas cookies before stepping backward. “We are talking.”
     She twisted to face him. “Carson, please . . .”
     He liked how her emotions turned in an instant. She’d test his abilities to direct her psychology in a scene. He nearly laughed at himself. How quickly I have her bound and pleasured in my mind. “There. Now that’s a start. I rather like you begging me.”
     “I don’t beg.”
     And there goes that chin. “We’ll see.” He took another step back. His instincts told him she wouldn’t bolt.
     “Take a seat, London.” Carson returned to his chair. “When you do, hands in your lap. After you listen to me you can decide if you wish to leave. It will be your choice.”
     London hesitated, then nestled her behind onto the chair opposite him. She placed her hands in her lap. The thumb of one hand worked the palm of the other.
     “Take off your mask. Show me your pretty face.”
    London took a deep breath as her elegant fingers slipped off her disguise, pulling the fastening ribbon through her perfect hair. He wanted to capture her cheeks in his hands. He’d rub off the mask indents and erase the worry imprinted on her forehead.
     “How long have you been without a master?” he asked.
     “I-I’m not . . .” Her jawline hardened. “It’s none of your business.”
    “That’s a shame. I’m good at business.” His mouth broke into a smile at the thought of bending her over her desk, papers sticking to her bared breasts, pens falling to the floor. He’d smack her ass with that leather portfolio she carried around like a shield. He wouldn’t stop until her engraved initials imprinted her skin.
     “Why did you bring me here?” she whispered.
     “You’re looking for a Dom. I’m a Dom looking for a sub.”
     She flinched at his final word. “What do you want, Carson?”
     What I want. Did it matter? He’d given up what he wanted long ago—a spirited submissive who matched his desires. Someone who might actually stick with him and not drop him the minute a better offer came through. He didn’t allow himself to think finding such a woman was possible anymore.
     “Time. Willingness. Pleasure.” Carson folded his hands and laid his chin on his knuckles. “Now, I want to know what you want.”
     “No, you don’t.”
   Carson raised an eyebrow. “Toying with me will not get you anywhere, sweetness.”
     “Isn’t that what you are doing with me?”
     “Hardly.” Carson let silence take over the space.
     “Then what?” she whispered after long minutes.
     “Patience will be your first lesson tonight. Then I’ll consider you.”
     “Consider me?” She gave him a hardened, fuck-off look.
     “Yes. Last time. What do you want?”
     He let a few seconds tick by. Then he stood. “If you won’t tell me why you’re here, what you seek, then I can’t help.”
     “I-I didn’t mean . . . it isn’t easy . . .”
     “You must answer my questions when I ask them. No delay. It’s for your safety and mine.”
     Her lips pursed, her signal she realized she was losing. Her sassiness had its usual alluring appeal—futile, but adorable. She licked her bottom lip, the subtle move urging him forward.
     “Stand,” he said.
     She stood cautiously.
     “What is your safeword?” he asked.
     “Excuse me? A-a scene. With you? You’re a client. If anything ever got back—”
     “Then we would both lose. And I don’t lose.”
     “No, You take what you want and damn the consequences.”
     “London.” Carson walked toward her and she backed around the chair. “What are you afraid of? Afraid you might get what you want? Experience what you’ve longed for?”
     She let out a huff, but continued to retreat as Carson advanced. He sent her in a backward circle until she closed in on the canopied bed. Yes, most definitely submissive. The urge to discover how deep her desires ran raged through him like a brushfire.
     "How would you know what I long for?” Her haughty chin jutted out.
     “I want to know, London. Tell me.”
     “Why?” She’d backed up until she connected with the bedpost.
     “Fair question. And one I’ll answer. Given you and I dance well together at the boardroom table, why wouldn’t we here? Had I known your proclivities I might have offered. Why didn’t you come to me before?” How had he missed her signs?
      “B-but you hate me.”
     Now he was puzzled. “No, I don’t. You sometimes irritate, but I could never hate you. Surely you noticed my tendencies.”
     “Being a bully in a boardroom does not make you a Dominant I’d be interested in.”
     “Ouch, London. That hurt.” Carson slapped his chest above his heart but kept his face stony.
     “I didn’t think you could feel pain.”
     “Everyone feels pain.” Her lips parted when he closed the last inch of distance between them. His thighs touched hers, and he softened his voice. “It pleases me you’re here. There’s no use in fighting this chemistry.” Carson hooked a thumb on his waistband. “One weekend.”
     “With you?”
     “Yes.”
     “What will you do with your harem?”
     He unbuckled his belt. “Your second lesson. Don’t force discipline with a smart mouth.”
     “I don’t have that kind of time.” She raised her impertinent jawline—again.
     Lesson three: discipline your haughty chin.
     “Not enough time to learn discipline or not enough time, in general?” The loud rasp of leather yanked through his belt loops sent her attention to his torso.
     “What are you doing?” Her panicked gaze shot to his face.
     “I don’t have a collar on me.”
     “I am wholly disinterested in being collared.”
    “One weekend, London.” He grasped one of her hips with his free hand. “If you’re disappointed at any time, you can walk. I’ll never speak of it again. Our work together will go unaffected. No one—and I mean no one—but us will know.”
      “Would you put that in writing?” Her eyes filled with mischief.
    Priceless. London lured him toward a lightning storm. He could play. Hell, nothing appealed in the moment more than a weekend playing with London. Yes, this is what he wanted. Now he needed to know if she was willing.
     “I’ll do one better.” He snaked the belt around her waist until the leather rested against her hips.
     “I’m not a notch on a belt.”
     “You could never be a notch, London Chantelle. You’re the whole belt, sugar.”
    Her face softened, and the playfulness in her eyes died. He recognized the deliberation behind them, the wonder if she’d be safe, here and at work. London needn’t have worried. She might get scared, but mutual satisfaction was the only way his brand of sexual fulfillment worked.
     “Say yes or no.” He pressed his torso to her corseted body, the last space between her body and his obliterated. “But say yes.”
     “What will happen if I say yes?”
     “What you want. What you’ve probably always wanted.”
     Her eyes misted with a surprising vulnerability. “Yes.”

Book 2 of the Elite Doms of Washington series
Buy Links:


Elizabeth Bio:
Elizabeth SaFleur is an erotic romance author and desperate-to-retire public relations practitioner who writes, tweets and posts under a pseudonym since her former business clients might be shocked at her new career choice. She wrote the Elite Doms of Washington contemporary erotic romance series after a thirty-year career serving D.C. clients. Today Elizabeth shares twenty-eight, wildlife-filled acres in Virginia with her husband and dog. www.ElizabethSaFleur.com

Elizabeth Links: