Here's the summary, and a teaser for the first chapter...
Breaking Blood on Alabaster:
AH ExB It's 1899 in New York City, and a young widow has bills and responsibilities to attend to. What will she do to the owner of New York Times when he refuses to sign for her bank note on her weekly wages she simply must have? Will she drag him to the lower east side and teach him a lesson, or tease him with her body until he can't take anymore? All good ideas… only she hadn't planned on this man knowing how to take absolute control of her mind and her senses regardless of how hard she tries to resist him. BDSM themes, blood lust and fisticuffs ensue. Hold on to your bowler hats and knickers—this is one clash of the classes that produces more than sparks.
December 26, 1899
“Oh almighty Jesus, she’s coming here now?” Edward Masen wiped his brow and swiped his fingers through his hair, causing it to stand on end.
“Yes, and she’s very displeased with you.”
Edward huffed. “Why does she have to be so difficult?”
“That’s what some widows do. They turn all bitter like nasty little mites, and all a man can do is get out of their way and smile as they do it.” Emmett swept aside and went to Edward’s office door.
Edward clicked his teeth for a moment, deep in thought. “Well, I’ll be damned if I ever step aside for a foul mite. I smash it with my heel. And I’ll do the same with this little miss and her attitude. She’s under my authority, and she’ll show me some respect.”
“Yeah . . . Good luck,” Emmett said under his breath and exited.
The door clanged shut behind him.
Edward paced in the room.
Dear God how he detested women like this. She had no business in a man’s world. Why couldn’t she see this?
He pulled on his suspenders, took a seat and his eyes roamed over today’s newspaper.
A smile bloomed.
Nothing of report on him. Good.
“I said get out of my way, little man!” a female’s voice boomed.
Edward shook his head and groaned. How was he going to deal with her? He’d heard of her ferocious, biting attitude.
“If you do not remove your person this instant, I’ll whip you like I do an idiot horse!” she yelled even louder.
A moment later, Emmett pushed open Edward’s office door and then like he’d said he would do, he moved aside to make way for her.
Edward sat in astonishment at this tiny little brunette with rather voluptuous curves, an ample bosom and eyes like a black storm. She appeared so unassuming, yet she bossed around the likes of Emmett—a behemoth of a man. How was it she neither bowed to Emmett or him? Edward owned this establishment. Instead she glared at them, and she certainly didn’t dip her head in respect. Who taught her to act in this manner?
His eyes went wide when she stood there bold as brass, defiant and shaking from head to toe while her face reddened.
“You did not sign my bank note,” she began, stomping toward Edward and looking him in the eye.