Sins of Her Father by Kathleen Mix
Book Title: SINS OF HER FATHER Author: Kathleen Mix Release Date: Sept. 14, 2015 Genre: Romantic Suspense Book Synopsis: Faith Rochambeau is horrified to learn she was conceived during a rape. She’s determined to make her biological father, Victor Telemann, pay for his crimes. Using her computer skills to dig into his life, she searches for the powerful man’s Achilles Heel and a way to extract retribution. She’ll do whatever it takes to get a conviction, even it if means infiltrating his Fortune 500 company. She fails to plan on falling in love with her father’s smooth-talking stepson, Kent Telemann, who suspects she is a corporate spy. Faith is drawn to Kent, even though she’s not sure she can trust him. If her heart is wrong, he can put her life in danger. Meanwhile, her father is playing a lethal game he’s determined to win. Goodreads * Amazon * Barnes & Noble * Entangled About the Author: Kathleen Mix is a multi-published author of romance and romantic suspense. A degreed Computer Engineer, she has developed software ranging from submarine combat control systems to a database devoted to storks. But as an avid sailor and licensed charter boat captain, she eventually sailed off into the sunset and began her second career penning non-fiction sailing and travel articles. One day, while anchored in the Virgin Islands, she turned to writing fiction and found her true love. Kathleen now lives in Virginia with her husband and a spoiled Sheltie. For book excerpts and pictures of her boat visit www.kathleenmix.com. Website * Twitter * Facebook Giveaway Info: $20 Amazon Gift Card. International entries welcome. a Rafflecopter giveaway Tour Schedule: http://sizzlingpr.com/tour-sins-of-her-father-by-kathleen-mix Excerpt One: She stepped off the elevator and scanned the outer office area to be sure she was alone. Seeing no one, she slipped on a pair of latex gloves and replaced the stolen key on the ring in Peg’s desk. Her key copy clutched in her hand, she stared at Victor’s office door. There was still time to abort her plan and leave. Faith hesitated. She’d come this far, and something had to be done or Victor would never be brought to justice. Hands-off research wasn’t yielding any useful information. Logic demanded a bolder approach. She’d just have to get in and out as quickly as possible. Sucking in her breath, she unlocked the door, slipped inside Victor’s inner sanctum, and pulled the door shut behind her by the cold metal handle. Darkness and a heavy scent of stale cigar smoke blanketed the room. The only sound was air rushing in and out of her chest. She stood frozen for a second, staring through the huge window at the collage of eerie building shadows, lonely lighted windows, and gaudy flashing signs on the West Palm Beach skyline, trying to catch her breath. She was in, but the door behind her was the only exit. Shivering and no longer able to endure the darkness, she moistened her lips and flipped on the same light switches she’d watched Peg choose. The surface of the huge desk and the wall of windows reflected the bright overhead lights and hit her like a spotlight aimed at her eyes. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, she flattened her hand over her abdomen to calm the rolling waves of nausea. Get a grip! She squared her shoulders and crossed the room. Blood roared in her ears, but her footsteps were silent on the thick carpet. She read the label on a file folder resting in one corner of the desk. Fiscal Projections – 2011 Winter Season. Ignoring the folder concerned with the future, she flipped back through the recent pages of an appointment calendar. A page from two weeks ago had the notation: Gardener’s Emporium Acquisition Results – Kent and Ben. She pictured Kent, handsome and composed, sitting in this room meeting with Victor. He hadn’t mentioned anything about a meeting at dinner. Maybe if she’d pressed him harder, she could have found out some useful details. Faith flipped backward through several more pages, unsure why she was here and what she was looking for. Some of the notes were in an almost illegible scrawl. Most, like the note about Kent, were in a neat, feminine looking cursive, but nothing on the calendar looked interesting or pertinent. She glanced over her shoulder at the closed outer door, caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and walked around the side of the desk. She passed the trashcan and paused, studying the contents. She bent, removed a couple of the crumpled sheets on the top, and smoothed them out enough to read the print.