Title: Diamonds in the Dust:
A Diamond Magnate Novel
Series: Diamonds are Forever Trilogy #1
Author: Charmaine Pauls
Genre: Dark Romance
A Diamond Magnate Novel
Series: Diamonds are Forever Trilogy #1
Author: Charmaine Pauls
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: May 19, 2020
Blurb
Men like
us, we see things.
us, we see things.
We do things, things that make us
unfeeling.
unfeeling.
That’s the
price of power and money, of living la
belle vie and running the French mafia. Then she came along like a pretty
wildflower pushing through the cracks on a dirty pavement—fragile yet
resilient, a breath of beauty among the filth. She was supposed to be just
another job, a nameless person I was to pluck from her life and hand to my
brother, nothing but a pawn in the gamble of our diamond business.
price of power and money, of living la
belle vie and running the French mafia. Then she came along like a pretty
wildflower pushing through the cracks on a dirty pavement—fragile yet
resilient, a breath of beauty among the filth. She was supposed to be just
another job, a nameless person I was to pluck from her life and hand to my
brother, nothing but a pawn in the gamble of our diamond business.
There’s a
psychological label for men like us.
psychological label for men like us.
We lack empathy
and guilt.
and guilt.
We do things to have what we want, things that
make flowers wilt.
make flowers wilt.
(Diamonds in the Dust is Book 1 of the Diamonds
are Forever Trilogy and ends on a cliffhanger. Diamonds in the
Rough (Book 2) releases on 14 July 2020 and Diamonds
are Forever (Book 3) on 15 September 2020.)
are Forever Trilogy and ends on a cliffhanger. Diamonds in the
Rough (Book 2) releases on 14 July 2020 and Diamonds
are Forever (Book 3) on 15 September 2020.)
Purchase Links
B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS
Excerpt
His tone is
gentle, one you’d use trying to coax the truth out of someone. “Why were you
still a virgin?”
gentle, one you’d use trying to coax the truth out of someone. “Why were you
still a virgin?”
“I was
waiting for the right man,” I say like it doesn’t matter.
waiting for the right man,” I say like it doesn’t matter.
He nods, a
silent acknowledgment of understanding. There’s no remorse in his voice when he
says, “No man can be more wrong than me.”
silent acknowledgment of understanding. There’s no remorse in his voice when he
says, “No man can be more wrong than me.”
I’m shaking
violently when he picks me up, sheltering me against his chest. He carries me
inside and easily closes the door balancing me in one arm. He goes to the
bathroom and lowers me onto the rug next to the bath. I wrap my arms around
myself, shivering as I watch him open the tap to let the water run warm. The
petals and candles are gone. The bath has been cleaned. Housekeeping came in
while we were having dinner.
violently when he picks me up, sheltering me against his chest. He carries me
inside and easily closes the door balancing me in one arm. He goes to the
bathroom and lowers me onto the rug next to the bath. I wrap my arms around
myself, shivering as I watch him open the tap to let the water run warm. The
petals and candles are gone. The bath has been cleaned. Housekeeping came in
while we were having dinner.
The bath is
only a quarter full when he slips his palms under the jacket and brushes it off
my shoulders, carelessly disregarding the expensive garment crumpled on the
floor. He picks me up and puts me on my feet in the bath. Taking a jar of bath
salts from the edge, he empties the whole jar in the bath and scoops water into
the jar that he empties over my shoulder.
only a quarter full when he slips his palms under the jacket and brushes it off
my shoulders, carelessly disregarding the expensive garment crumpled on the
floor. He picks me up and puts me on my feet in the bath. Taking a jar of bath
salts from the edge, he empties the whole jar in the bath and scoops water into
the jar that he empties over my shoulder.
The warmth
dispels the cold. My skin contracts with goosebumps. He refills the jar and
drains it over my other shoulder. He does the same with my front and back, and
then he crouches down to soap a sponge. He starts at my waist, dragging the
sponge from my hip to my thigh before squeezing out the sponge and letting the
soapy water run down my calf. Meticulously, he washes me, stroke by gentle
stroke removing the blood and the cold.
dispels the cold. My skin contracts with goosebumps. He refills the jar and
drains it over my other shoulder. He does the same with my front and back, and
then he crouches down to soap a sponge. He starts at my waist, dragging the
sponge from my hip to my thigh before squeezing out the sponge and letting the
soapy water run down my calf. Meticulously, he washes me, stroke by gentle
stroke removing the blood and the cold.
The
bathroom is warm, but I’m still shivering. When the bath is half-full, he turns
off the water and guides me to lie down. Twisting my hair in a knot, he trails
it over the edge of the bath. The water stings between my legs, but heat
envelopes me, melting the last of the bitter frost under my skin and calming my
shivers. All the while, he continues to bathe me, washing away the remnants of
our coupling in a strangely humble way as if I’m the princess and he the
servant.
bathroom is warm, but I’m still shivering. When the bath is half-full, he turns
off the water and guides me to lie down. Twisting my hair in a knot, he trails
it over the edge of the bath. The water stings between my legs, but heat
envelopes me, melting the last of the bitter frost under my skin and calming my
shivers. All the while, he continues to bathe me, washing away the remnants of
our coupling in a strangely humble way as if I’m the princess and he the
servant.
When my
skin starts to wrinkle, he pulls the plug and takes my hand to help me out of
the bath. Draping a fluffy towel around me, he dries my body. When not a patch
of wetness is left on my skin, he leads me back to the room and makes me sit on
the loveseat while he strips the sheets off the bed, leaving the duvet. Folding
it back, he looks at me in silent command.
skin starts to wrinkle, he pulls the plug and takes my hand to help me out of
the bath. Draping a fluffy towel around me, he dries my body. When not a patch
of wetness is left on my skin, he leads me back to the room and makes me sit on
the loveseat while he strips the sheets off the bed, leaving the duvet. Folding
it back, he looks at me in silent command.
I’m spent.
My fight is cold. I get up without arguing, dropping the towel at the side of
the bed before getting in. Turning on my side, I face the wall. He gets in
beside me, flicks off the lamp, and spoons me from behind with an arm he throws
over my stomach to anchor me to him.
My fight is cold. I get up without arguing, dropping the towel at the side of
the bed before getting in. Turning on my side, I face the wall. He gets in
beside me, flicks off the lamp, and spoons me from behind with an arm he throws
over my stomach to anchor me to him.
Our
breathing is quiet. We’re both awake, but neither of us speaks. Light from the
streetlamps falls through the window into the room. It plays over the walls,
creating a shadowed reflection of the free world outside.
breathing is quiet. We’re both awake, but neither of us speaks. Light from the
streetlamps falls through the window into the room. It plays over the walls,
creating a shadowed reflection of the free world outside.
After a
long while, he says into the darkness, “If I had the time, I would’ve made you
fall in love with me first.”
long while, he says into the darkness, “If I had the time, I would’ve made you
fall in love with me first.”
At the
words, I stop breathing.
words, I stop breathing.
They’re
meant to be a consolation, but they’re stunningly cruel.
meant to be a consolation, but they’re stunningly cruel.
Coming Soon
Releasing July 14
B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS
Releasing September 15
B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS
Author Bio
Charmaine Pauls was born in Bloemfontein, South Africa. She obtained
a degree in Communication at the University of Potchestroom, and followed a
diverse career path in journalism, public relations, advertising,
communications, photography, graphic design, and brand marketing. Her writing
has always been an integral part of her professions.
After relocating to Chile with her French husband, she fulfilled her passion to
write creatively full-time. Charmaine has published over twenty novels since 2011, as
well as several short stories and articles. Two of her shorts have been
selected by the International Literary Society for an anthology from across the
African continent.
When she is not writing, she likes to travel, read, and rescue cats. Charmaine
currently lives in France with her husband and children. Their household is a
linguistic mélange of Afrikaans, English, French and Spanish.
a degree in Communication at the University of Potchestroom, and followed a
diverse career path in journalism, public relations, advertising,
communications, photography, graphic design, and brand marketing. Her writing
has always been an integral part of her professions.
After relocating to Chile with her French husband, she fulfilled her passion to
write creatively full-time. Charmaine has published over twenty novels since 2011, as
well as several short stories and articles. Two of her shorts have been
selected by the International Literary Society for an anthology from across the
African continent.
When she is not writing, she likes to travel, read, and rescue cats. Charmaine
currently lives in France with her husband and children. Their household is a
linguistic mélange of Afrikaans, English, French and Spanish.
Author Links
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