Grapes of Rapture
Genres: Erotic, Novellas and Shorts
ISBN: 9781626228801

Obtaining his life’s dream may very well destroy hers.
ISBN: 9781626228801
Publisher: Seaside Publications
December 2014

For the first time in a decade, chemical Engineer, NICHOLAS GRADIN IV is returning to the family vineyard. A quick trip to the lawyer’s to collect the trust fund that’s rightfully his and he can finally wash his hands of the alcoholic father who disowned him years ago and invest in his own winery. A sexually explosive romp or two with the submissive cellar master’s assistant shouldn’t complicate things.

Francesca Santerre has poured her heart and soul into Mill Tavern Vineyards. Operating the wine cellars on a shoestring budget, she’s managed to net the winery countless awards. Now the greedy son of her stepfather is returning to steal the last of the profits and ruin her future. She has every intention of saving her home and her livelihood, even if it means manipulating the womanizing jerk from Philly with her feminine charms.

Nick and Frankie didn’t intend to fall into each other’s arms, but neither can resist the sexual energy sparking between them. With each of them believing the other is causing the financial ruin of the vineyard, will their steamy tryst be nothing more than a one-night stand or will it blossom into something deeper?

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About the Book


This author is one of my must-reads and this story showcases the talent that put her there.
~ Night Owl Romance 4 STARS

In true Nina Pierce style, the story is chock full of emotion, family ties, and steamy, hot sex making for one heck of an enjoyable read.
~ Whipped Cream Reviews 4 STARS

The top of her head barely came to his chin. In the stained sweatshirt and oversized windbreaker, she looked no more threatening than a skinny teenager. Nick had to give her credit for her tenacity.

“Now, unless you’d like me to call the cops,” she said. “I suggest you leave the way you came. There’s nothing here for you. We have no drugs. I don’t carry any money. And as you can see my truck wouldn’t even get you to Syracuse.”

He bit back a smile. He’d been mistaken for a lot of things but a drug seeking punk had never been one of them. “I don’t want any of those things. My name’s Nick Gradin. My fath—”

“Holy shit.” The woman dropped the shears to her side, her beautiful eyes widening. “Nick Gradin? As in Nicholas Gradin the fourth, Mill Tavern’s silent partner?”

He laughed. “Is that the title he’s given me?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I think you’ll find this weekend I’m going to be anything but the silent partner.” He made air quotes with his fingers.

She tipped back the ball cap and pinched the bridge of her nose, a loud sigh puffing her cheeks. “Whatever you call yourself, you’re the owner’s son and I guess I owe you an apology. I knew you were coming, but no one mentioned you’d be inspecting the vines. I…” She stopped and stared at him. “No. You know what? I’m not sorry.” She stalked up to him and poked her finger in his chest, sending him back a step. “You’re the asshole who snuck up on me while I was doing my job. My job.” She emphasized the last two words with two more finger pecks to his sternum. “You had no right to scare the living shit out of me.”

“As I said…” He wrapped her hand with his and stepped into her space, smiling down at her. “I thought you were Joseph. After all, you aredriving his truck.” It was hard to settle his libido when a feisty woman with olive skin stood toe to toe with him, the feminine heat of her, warming his body. “Now, I was just wondering where Joseph was. No big deal. Right?”

Her mouth shut with an audible click and he held tight to her wrist when she tried to pull from his grasp. He liked looking into the bottomless depths of her eyes and watching the pulse point at the base of her neck beat erratically. He’d been sorely lacking in the intimacy department over the past several months. Having this woman pressed chest to thigh against his needy body was making blood flow south, leaving little left for his brain cells to contemplate the wisdom of his decision.

“Joseph’s not feeling well and hasn’t been working in the fields,” she said. “But I suspect you already knew that, Mr. Nicholas Gradin the fourth. I think your little charade was your attempt to meet me.”

Nick hadn’t known about the cellarmaster. He hadn’t been home to the vineyard in nearly a decade. Obviously, this woman knew nothing of the Gradin family history and he had every intention of keeping it that way. “Well, I guess you’ve got me figured out. I’m all about the pretty girls.” He leaned in close, his lips a breath from hers. “Which begs the question…who are you?”

Her chin kicked up a notch. “Frankie. Field hand.”

Her breath washed over his chin, the hint of grapes on her palate. Her eyes searched his face, sweeping from cheekbone to cheekbone, down his nose and lingered on his lips before dragging up to settle on his eyes. Her inspection was so thorough that a fingernail dragged over his skin would not have been as seductive.
His body reacted immediately to her challenge. He had no doubt she could feel his erection straining against the fly of his jeans. Unfortunately, now was not the time to see how far he could push her boundaries. Not when his mind was focused on the not-so-sweet family reunion awaiting him at the mansion.

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