The first novel I ever wrote was a dark tale about abduction. In those days would-be authors sent in the first three chapters by snail mail and waited – often up to a year. I actually had a ‘proper’ reply from a couple of the agents. Both said – this book is too dark. Ha! So I turned to writing more light-hearted romantic stories but occasionally, the big bad wolf in me produces something disturbing. Chosen was my first published dark romantic suspense and now, I have self-published (first time for me) my second – called Crossing the Line. It’s dark and at times graphically violent – though it does have a happy ever after and an antihero who looks just like the guy on the cover. (Sorry model – you’re probably a lovely man!)
They say – write about what you know. I ignored that. Well, I always have. You think my sex life is as diverse and exciting as the ones I write about? (oops sorry husband – of course it is) But Crossing is set in Miami (though I did go to do a bit of research there, but after I’d written the book), it’s about the Russian mafia (of which I’m an expert –not – but again, I did join a few Russian forums and push for info.) Hmm – that might come back to bite me. In the old pre-Google days, research was tricky. I remember once writing to a university in Bogota to ask for information about them. (That story might one day be published). But the leaflet came back in Spanish so I had to find someone to translate. Now at the click of a few buttons, almost everything is at your fingertips. Want to know how long it takes for a body to decompose? No problem. Want to know what the entrance to the MI6 building looks like? Yep, that is a bit trickier. I suspect I’m on the black list for the FBI, CIA, MI6 and MI5. This is why I always make my husband answer the door!
Blurb
Is there a line she won’t cross?
Katya’s sister is brutally murdered while working undercover for the Russian Security Service and no one seems to care. After her parents and grandparents die in a suspicious car accident and the authorities still won’t take any action, Katya travels to America, following the man she believes is responsible, determined to find her own justice.
She becomes caught in a dangerous and demanding game balancing the demands of two men with her obsession for the truth. Ethan, an FBI agent, is on the side of right. Aleksei, an enigma, is as bad as they come, yet it’s the man with darkness inside him who offers a chance of discovering what happened to her family. If she wants those responsible to pay for the murders, how far is she prepared to go?
Extract
That evening, Katya started with the theme to Schindler’s List. It was a solo she loved, but a bad choice. Her throat thickened with emotion. The next piece by Tartini was hardly better. She tried to cheer herself up by playing Classical Gas. Didn’t work for her, but earned a round of applause from the diners.
By the time she took her break she felt drained. As she walked out of the dining room, Dimitri stepped in front of her and she jumped.
“Steady, Katya.”
“Sorry about the shoes. I’ll buy some tomorrow.”
“Your bare feet are growing on me.” He smiled. “I want you to meet a friend of mine.”
He led her to a table in the corner occupied by the good-looking man who’d stared at her the previous evening. Tonight he was alone. As they approached, he stood. He wore a business suit and red tie, and was three or four inches taller than her with eyes as dark as his untidy black hair.
Dimitri backed away and she fought not to do the same.
“Katya. Do you have another name?” the man asked in perfect English.
“Not that you need to know.”
He laughed. “I’m Aleksei Viktorovich Kusmin.”
His accent was more European than American. He offered his hand. Katya shook it and a tremor ran through her as if she’d stepped onto an unsafe bridge. She couldn’t deny her attraction, though he was too good-looking not to have a girlfriend or be married.
“Please join me. Would you like champagne?” He poured a glass without waiting for an answer.
She slid into the seat next to him.
“I’ve enjoyed listening to you play, though I think you should choose more cheerful tunes.”
“I play to suit my mood, Aleksei Viktorovich.”
“Please call me Aleksei. You should play to suit the mood of people eating here.”
She fought not to squirm under his intense gaze. “Do you have a request?”
“Why are you so sad?”
Her skin prickled. “I don’t know that one. Hum it.”
He smiled. “It’s said the violin is the instrument of angels and devils. I can’t make up my mind which you are.”
Butterflies took flight in her belly and zoomed into her throat. He’d not stopped staring but neither had she. She thought he might be the most handsome man she’d ever met.
“You played The Devil’s Trill by Tartini. That should give me a clue, though with such beautiful hair you look more like an angel.”
He’d named the music to impress her and it had, but this guy oozed…danger. Nothing she could put her finger on, no scars, no flashy jewelry, just something in his controlled manner, his attentive gaze that warned her to be careful.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re sad?” he asked.
“I haven’t met my quota of damned souls today, but things are looking up.” She made herself smile.
He chuckled. “Dimitri tells me you trained at the Moscow Conservatory.”
She nodded.
“And had the honor of playing for Putin.”
“And his dog.”
He raised his eyebrows. “How long have you been in Florida?”
“Not long.”
“Where are you living?”
“In a building.”
He stared at her.
“In a building, in Miami,” she said.
“And?”
“In a building, in Miami, in America.”
He sighed. “Do you have any friends here, Katya?”
“Lots. Do you?”
“No.”
“Don’t people like you?”
He smiled. “Maybe I don’t like most people. But I find you interesting.”
“I’m not.” She swallowed hard.
He leaned forward. “What color is your underwear?”
“What?” But she knew what she’d heard.
Buy Links
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Bio
Barbara Elsborg lives in West Yorkshire in the north of England. She always wanted to be a spy, but having confessed to everyone without them even resorting to torture, she decided it was not for her. Vulcanology scorched her feet. A morbid fear of sharks put paid to marine biology. So instead, she spent several years successfully selling cyanide.
After dragging up two rotten, ungrateful children and frustrating her sexy, devoted, wonderful husband (who can now stop twisting her arm) she finally has time to conduct an affair with an electrifying plugged-in male, her laptop.
Barbara’s written nearly forty novels, most of which are erotic romances but she has also written two dark suspense novels. Her books feature quirky heroines, bad boys, and sometimes paranormal creatures and she hopes they are as much fun to read as they were to write.
Author Links
Website: http://www.barbaraelsborg.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/barbaraelsborg
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/barbara.elsborg
LinkedIn: http://uk.linkedin.com/pub/barbara-elsborg/15/741/57b/
Blog: http://www.barbaraelsborg.com/blog-posts/
Goodreads : https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2856948.Barbara_Elsborg
Reveal day has finally arrived! So quick, what are you waiting for? Head on over to 
Hi everyone,
Snow Angels, the final book in the Decadent Calendar Men Series is here!
About Sabrina York
ALSO FROM DECADENT PUBLISHING!
Reaching down to make sure she was ready for him, he looked up at her, startled, when she grabbed his wrist. “What?”
Blurb:
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