The New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Best-selling Beauty Series is now available in a single volume.
BEAUTY FROM PAIN: Aussie winemaker Jack McLachlan and American musician Laurelyn Prescott agree to a three month relationship while keeping their true identities secret.
BEAUTY FROM SURRENDER: A heartbroken Laurelyn Prescott returns to Nashville to pursue her music career and finds the success sheâs always dreamed of. Jack Henry McLachlan spends three months searching for his beloved but their reunion doesnât come easy. Will she be able to see beyond the glitz glamour and visualize a life that includes him?
BEAUTY FROM LOVE: Life for Jack Henry and Laurelyn is beautiful until their post-wedded bliss is cut short when his dark past springs into their present happiness. He wants to shelter Laurelyn but keeping her untainted by his previous life proves impossible when yesterdayâs sins insist on returning to haunt him. Will it be possible for them to find happiness in their forever with a past like his?
Beauty from Pain Excerpt
Jack McLachlanâs POV
I sit in the dark corner and scan the room like a starved predator searching for prey. I havenât chosen her yet, but the woman who will share my bed for the next few months is in this room right now.
I watch a lovely blond approach my table. âWhat can I bring you?â Hmm. A waitressânot at all my usual taste.
I have a type. Attractive. Mature. Refined. This barmaid meets the attractive requirement well enough, but sheâs void of refinement or maturity as displayed by her choice of apparelâa white, barely there tank top and frazzled cutoff denim shorts. She doesnât do it for me. Plus, my last two companions were blond. I want a different flavor this time, but no redheads. I want a brunette. A beautiful one.
I remind myself Iâm not in Sydney where I have an endless variety of sophisticated women from which to choose. My choices are more limited in the small town of Wagga Wagga, but that doesnât mean I have to settle for the first attractive woman I see.
âIâll have a Shiraz.â
Iâm prepared for a more prolonged relationship this timeâthree whole months instead of the usual three or four weeks. Iâm looking forward to keeping this one around a little longer, and thatâs all the more reason to be certain I make a wise choice.
I begin my search of the club with the first table toward the front of the room. A brunette beauty sits with a group of women. I watch her for a while, but decide sheâs too friendly with the woman sitting next to her. Lesbians arenât in my repertoire.
I spend the next hour scanning the club and come up empty-handed. Iâm discouraged. No one stands out as the one and this club is by far my best bet for meeting single women in this town. Maybe I should consider coming back another time when itâs not open mic night. Tonight, the place is crawling with boozed college students.
Tonightâs search has been a failure, but at least the karaoke was entertaining.
Iâm finishing off the last of my wine before I leave when an announcer from the club takes the stage and asks for the next singer to step forward. A small group of people across the room nominates one of its own. My view of the poor bastard is blocked by the crowd of intoxicated kids standing between us, but Iâm certain this is going to be another delightful train wreck.
The club erupts into cheer and chants. âDo. It. Do. It. Do. It.â A young woman walks onto the stage and stands with her back to the crowd as she lifts a guitar from its stand. She lifts its strap over her head and then tosses her long brown hair over one shoulder. When sheâs finished settling the guitar into place, she circles around and sits on the stool in the middle of the stage.
Sheâs beautiful. And somehow overlooked during my search.
Sheâs wearing a short ivory dress and a denim jacket with brown cowgirl boots. She bares her thighs as she lifts her feet to rest on the bottom rail, but sheâs careful to push her dress between her legs so she doesnât provide a peep show to the crowd.
She strums the borrowed guitar a few times and then leans into the microphone. âIs everyone having a good time tonight?â
Sheâs American. I think. Her accent sounds differentânot like what Iâve heard in the past.
The crowd erupts into a drunken cheer and I hear a manâs voice yell over the crowd, âItâs better now, sweet thing!â
She smiles and adjusts the mic. âIâm not from around here. Itâs my first night in Australia.â
âLeave with me and Iâll make you feel right at home!â a man shouts from the back of the room.
She ignores the fat, ugly bastard yelling at her. âI donât know what kind of music Australians like, but this has been one of my favorites for as long as I can remember.â She strums a few more chords. âThis is âCrash Into Meâ by the Dave Matthews Band.â
She sings it slower than the original, putting her own twist on it. Her voice is raspy and sexy, her eyes closed. She oozes eroticism. She tilts her head and opens her eyes when she begins to sing the chorus. I swear it feels like sheâs looking right in my direction, singing to me. âOh, and you come craasshh â¦ into me. And I come into â¦ you â¦ And I come into you â¦ in a boyâs dream â¦ in a boyâs dream.â
The stage lights shine in her face and common sense tells me she canât see me sitting in the dark corner at the back of the club, but that doesnât stop me from hoping.
She finishes the chorus and shuts her eyes again. Her long legs bounce against the rail of the stool to keep rhythm and I fall victim to her sirenâs song. She has bewitched me. And I want her. Sheâs the one.
Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasnât looked back yet.
When sheâs not writing, sheâs thinking about writing. When sheâs being domestic, sheâs listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it.
Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.
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