Trust Trilogy by Cristiane Serruya ~ Spotlight ~ Interview ~ Excerpts~

Trust Trilogy

A New Beginning, Betrayed, Pandora's Box

By Cristiane Serruya

Amazon Buy Link for the Trilogy:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00LU5ORLW/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=211189&creative=373489&creativeASIN=B00LU5ORLW&link_code=as3&tag=revibycrys-20&linkId=UTPSMUEVIJOEWZLV

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Interview:

Crystal: Today I have the chance to ask Cristiane Serruya a few questions. Welcome Cristiane, I'm so happy to have you here today. 

Cristiane: Hello, Crystal. Thanks for hosting me at your cute blog. I’m so happy to be here with you and your readers today.

Crystal: Would you share a little bit about yourself with us today?

Cristiane: Writing has always been an entertainment to me. I’ve written since I was a kid. Silly teenage poems grew to more serious poetry, and I even wrote a few stories to my daughters, but I never thought of becoming an author. 
I have a BA in Fine Arts and a Master’s in Law, and worked as a lawyer for twenty-two years before I put pen to paper to write a novel. When the TRUST trilogy took its form, it had turned into an addiction. Now that I’m hooked, I can’t free myself. In fact, I don’t want to be freed. It is just the piece that was missing in my life.

Crystal: Do you have a favorite scene you would like to share with us?

Cristiane: Oh. There are so many scenes in the TRUST TRILOGY that I love… But if I share with you the ones I love most I would spoil the plot. Hmm… How about an excerpt I love that won’t ruin the story? Check it out below!!

Crystal: Where did you come up with the idea for Trust Trilogy?

Cristiane: The idea for the TRUST TRILOGY started in a very silly way. 
In April 2009, I was bed-ridden with a terrible flu - and thoroughly bored. I had a such bad headache that I couldn’t even read or open the curtains. So… I decided to tell myself a story. Yeah, childish, I know, but that’s how the seed was planted. It took me more than a year to gather the courage to put pen to paper and daily life kept intruding in the way. I was a full time lawyer, a mother of three, ooops! - *grin* - two teenage girls and wife to a six-foot-six, very large but sweet husband.
In the beginning of 2011, I was very unsatisfied with the Brazilian justice system and that was affecting my work as a lawyer. A friend said I should try writing to de-stress and that it would make many more people aware of the still brutal violence that was practiced against women and children (one of the main issues that I worked with, and the subject of two of my Law School theses). 
The next day, I sat down and re-started the trilogy. I discovered that I could speak of things that enchanted me and inequities that aggravated me in a much more creative and lighter way than my previous work.

Crystal: What are you currently working on?

Cristiane: I’m finishing the formatting of the TRUST trilogy bundle. It will be released in the beginning of the next week.

Also, I’ve already started to write Carolina Santo’s story. Carol is going to rock Rio de Janeiro, Hollywood, London and the Highlands. The plot will be full of hot, tormented alpha-machos, beautiful and strong women, crazy people, “drugs, sex & rock’n’roll” and, of course, along with it all, my between-the-lines messages. I don’t know if it’s going to be another trilogy or not. My characters are very demanding and my work is so organic, that I only know what is going to happen when the feelings start to grow and the characters become real persons and talk to me. Ah… If I am crazy?! Well… *grin* A bit! 


Crystal: Do you have any special routine that you follow when you are writing? 

Cristiane:  Yes and no. I can stay so many hours focused on a scene that I forget to eat. I can be stopped by a need to research something and go on and on delighting in the research; Or just stop a bit, to relax and read a book. I can work in my home-office, in my living room or bedroom; I always carry a small Moleskine in my bag to jolt down good ideas that can pop in my mind out of nowhere. So, no, I don’t have a routine, but if I’m creative-writing, I’m always listening to music, from classic to alternative rock, depending on my mood and I need lots of home-made ice-tea and icy lemonade. I’m a thirsty woman. *smile*

Crystal: Did you have to do a lot of research for this book or any other?

Cristiane: Oh, you don’t want to know how high is my degree of exigency with myself… I’m exacting and if I don’t know what I’m talking about I delve deep into research. I don’t just google things. Of course, I do online research, but on universities or governments websites, and my main sources are people. People around me: professionals, or those who have experienced a certain feeling I have not experienced yet and wanted to write about; and obviously: books, newspapers and magazines; maps, guides, oh… just everything I can put my hands on and can check out my ideas or opinions.

Crystal: Do you have a fascinating fact that you have learned you would like to share with us?

Cristiane:  Excellent question! Nobody has asked me that before, so here it goes, for your readers in first hand. 
Before telling you anything, I want to clarify that I’m not here to condemn or absolve anyone; or that I approve or disapprove of what I’m going to disclose. I’m just sharing my experience, so please don’t through bricks at me.
In my research for this book, I stumbled upon a few real submissives (women and men) that haven’t been abused by their partners. 
Throughout my life as a lawyer, I only had contact with D/S and S&M practitioners who qualified as abuser/abused persons. I had a very bad opinion of BDSM, and why not say it, even prejudiced. 
I was stunned by their stories and they made me understand how can such idea coexist in the contemporary world, where women and men are struggling to have equal rights. 
They only reinforced my previous researches: that dominants/dominatrixes can be - and usually are - abusers; that female and male submissives have been previously abused in childhood or teenage years (not necessarily sexually); that people who engage in BDSM need a lot of therapy - as all of us do, I’m not excluding myself either.
But, what is very important, and I thank them for this: they showed me that their partners knew how to take care of their needs in a very careful and creative way, because they were supervised by conscious therapists and psychiatrists, who didn’t abide by what they thought they needed; Instead, the professionals guided them through a path that allowed them to stay physical and mental healthy, not only focusing on sexual pain and humiliation, but understanding and dealing with their issues in a more ample and creative way.

Crystal: Who are some of your favorite authors that you like to read?

Cristiane: Oh, dear! Do I really have to answer this? LOL! I’m such an avid reader. Reading is the oldest pleasure of mine, so is very difficult for me to choose my favorite authors or books. 
I think my favorite kind of reading depends on my moment. I love novels, romance, historical, paranormal, erotic stories, Old Greeks, all the classics...  I can read from Franz Kafka and George Orwell to Gena Showalter or Tessa Dare; from Fernando Pessoa, a Portuguese poet, and Jane Eyre to well-written, well-edited Indie romances. 
It’s easier to ask who are the ones I dislike. As you haven’t, I’ll keep it a secret. *naughty giggles*

Crystal: Is there a genre you haven't written that you would like to try?

Cristiane:  Young adult, for sure. Maybe one day I will try it.

Thank you, Crystal, for the opportunity to share my thoughts  here and helping me promote my work. 
Hearing from readers is very important to me. It always helps me to do a better job. So, I want to invite everybody to leave a message here or on my website http://cristianeserruya.com.br I’m available to comment or answer any questions.

Crystal: Thank you so much for stopping by today Cris. I have really enjoyed this interview. I have to say I will be looking forward to reading Carolina Santo’s story. 


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EXCERPT from Trust: A New Beginning

Essex, Saffron Walden. Galewick Hall.
Friday, February 12th, 2010.
5 p.m.
Ethan alighted from his Porsche as soon as they arrived at the front door,
taking their luggage but leaving her to deal with a sleeping Gabriela in the
backseat. “I’ll wait for you inside.”
“This is your last chance,” Sophia said to herself in a small voice as she
observed him climbing up the stairs to the big house. Why you keep insisting on
this relationship is baffling, Sophia. You have to talk with your therapist.
The trip from London had been a silent one with Ethan unhappy that Sophia
had only agreed to it if she could bring Gabriela along.
He demands too much of me. He has to understand that Gabriela is my
priority. She stepped out of the car, admiring the grandeur of the place. The
opulence of Galewick Hall, a huge towering eighteenth century house built in the
Palladian style, diminished the home’s severity. The main building was four
stories. Extensive gardens and forests beckoned walks and horse rides.
Ethan was so rude leaving me at the door. This whole weekend seems a
disastrous idea.
Although already there, Sophia considered turning back but knew it would
offend Leonard and his wife, Alice, who had done nothing to deserve it. In the last
few months, Sophia had developed a steady friendship with Leonard. She grinned,
remembering their business meeting just a few days before. And after talking with
Alice on the phone, Sophia looked forward to meeting her. Leonard is a gentleman
and has nothing to do with Ethan’s rudeness, I can’t turn back now.
She pushed the seat forward and caressed Gabriela’s long blonde locks.
“Come on, Angel, we’ve arrived.”
Gabriela opened her sky-blue eyes, so much like Gabriel’s. Sophia would
never tire of looking at them. If they were the last thing I see in my life, I would die
happily.
She got Gabriela out of the car and ran a hand to smooth the wrinkles out of
her daughter’s turquoise dress, as the little girl looked around and pouted, “They
don’t have towers.”
“Ah, no. But I’m sure they have many interesting things to do and places to
explore. And Alice and Leonard have a daughter, Ariadne, who is just a year older
than you.” Sophia smiled at Gabriela who smiled back, excited at the prospect of
meeting a friend.
Discrete, but with some color and a daring touch, Sophia wore a tight lightpink
Alberta Ferreti sweater, a gray Chloé chamois jacket and shorts, opaque gray
stockings, black riding-style boots and was using Harry Winston diamond stud
earrings and tennis bracelet, which Ethan had given her as an apology for his
rude words and worse behavior. Sophia shook her head at herself and brushed
Gabriela’s hair. Hasn’t he understood that jewelry can’t buy my affections? This is
not what I’m looking for.
As if Gabriela could feel her mother’s uneasiness, she hugged Sophia and
said, “You look beautiful, Mama. I wish I could look like you.”
“You are even more beautiful than I am, Angel.” Sophia hugged her back and
picked her daughter up in her arms.
When she stepped into the gargantuan marbled hall, which had a grand
staircase at the back, an employee came toward her. Stiff-backed, liveried in grayand-
white, as if to match his hair. He had a thin frame and stoic face. “Good
afternoon, miss. I’m Chambers. May I help you?”
“Ah, well, yes. I came with Mr. Ashford.”
“Oh, yes, mademoiselle Santo, I’m sure. You’re in the blue room. First floor,
to your left, third door on your right and your daughter, miss Gabriela, is with the
children, in the yellow room, also on first floor, to the right, second door, on your
left.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chambers.”
“Oh, no, please, just Chambers, ma’am. If you would please follow me, the
party is gathered in the library.”
Sophia had an urgent and incoherent need to laugh. Oh, is this for real? First
door, to the left or to the right? I can’t remember it anymore. I will lose myself in this
maze. I will definitely need the help of ‘Just Chambers’. She laughed inwardly. Oh,
and, the funny way he talks and walks? I thought butlers like him were extinct.
Sophia entered the library with Gabriela in her arms. When her daughter
saw how many adults gathered there, she clutched Sophia’s neck and hid behind
her hair.
Leonard’s embrace immediately engulfed Sophia.
She chuckled and gave him a one-arm hug. “How are you, my friend? Have
you been preparing yourself for a second round?”
“Yes, sure, and beware, because next time I’m going to win,” he assured her
with a teasing grin. “Leibowitz Oil won’t get away with ensuring this weird clause
you devised.”
“We shall see.” She wiggled her brows.
“So, you’re the woman who has been keeping my husband from my bed!” A
feminine voice complained.
Sophia looked around Leonard’s shoulder to see an astonishing woman, very
tall, with fierce red hair, astonishingly beautiful green eyes, and a heart-shaped
mouth.
“Sophia, let me introduce you to my wife, Alice. Alice, the infamous Sophia.”
“Hey, not infamous. Famous, I’ll allow.” Turning to Alice, she said, “Hello,
Alice. Leonard talks about you a lot. This is my daughter, Gabriela.”
“Nice to meet you, Sophia.” She grinned and kissed Sophia and, even though
Gabriela tried to hide in the hollow of her mother’s neck, Alice stroked the girl’s
hair. “Leo has also told me a lot about you.”
Sophia gave Leonard a piercing look.
“Nothing you wouldn’t have said yourself,” he chuckled. “Come, since your
boyfriend already sat down, let me—”
“I’m not anyone’s boyfriend, Allenthorp,” Ethan put forth harshly.
With that loud statement, the room fell into a hushed silence.
Sophia turned to look at him and even Gabriela pushed from her hiding
place, her eyes blazing, prepared to defend her mother.
Sophia cocked her head to the side waiting for an explanation while Leonard
stood there, as if struck by lightning.
Perceiving that his statement had been badly received, Ethan amended.
“Boyfriend is for teenagers. We have a relationship.”
“Indeed,” was the only answer Sophia could think of, despite the fact that
she thought her sarcasm was lost on Ethan’s arrogance and bad mood.
Breathing deep, Sophia smiled to Leonard. “So, Dr. Walter I already know.
The others you’ll have to introduce.” She smiled at her gentle gynecologist. “Hello.
Gabriela, this is Dr. John Walter. Give him a kiss.”
John had thinning blond hair and blue eyes. He had a quietness that had
always relaxed Sophia. “Nice to see you, Sophia. It’s a pleasant surprise to meet
you here.” He shook her hand. “And, please, call me John. Leave the doctor at the
office.”
“A doctor?” Gabriela buried her head again in Sophia’s neck. “I don’t like
doctors. They’ve needles hidden behind their backs.”
“Smart girl, aren’t you?” John Walter chuckled and showed Gabriela his
hands. “See? No needles.”
Gabriela looked at him from her hiding place, said a small hello and hid
again.
He made a gesture to the woman at his side. “This is my wife, Claire.”
His introduced his wife, a beautiful French brunette, dressed impeccably
with perfectly manicured nails and Chanel-style hair.
“This is my mother, Elena,” said Leonard. “You two have a lot in common.”
Next to Claire sat Leonard’s mother. Because of the gentle way Leonard
spoke of his mother, Sophia had thought she would find a frail woman. Instead,
she was a five-foot-seven woman who still showed traces of the beauty from her
youth. Like most Spanish women, she had dark brown hair, almost black eyes,
and olive skin. She wore a skirt suit in a daring, yet suitable, combination of
white, red, and black.
“I was looking forward to meeting you, Sophia. Leonard told me a lot about
your work with women and children. I was hoping to persuade you to give a
lecture at the institution over which I preside.” Elena kissed Sophia on the cheeks,
very informally. Her English had a charming Spanish accent and she had an
informal way of making you feel at home.
“I would be delighted, Elena. Let’s talk about it and you can explain to me
exactly what you want. I really love this work.”
Leonard pointed to a man seated next to Ethan. “That rascal there is my
brother, Alexander. Alex meet Sophia Santo, the witch.”
Alexander resembled his mother very much. He wore loose gray jeans and a
white knitted sweater that complemented his olive skin nicely. He had a devilmay-
care way of carrying himself.
“Sophia Santo?” He lifted his brows high. A knowledgeable smile slashed his
face, showing white teeth. “Mmm. I’m not afraid of witches, Brother.”
He nodded at her again and the strange look in his eyes nagged Sophia. But
Leonard distracted her, saying, “Yo no creo en las brujas, ¡pero que las hay, las
hay! Brother, I assure you, Sophia is one of them.”
“Stop, Leonard. I’m no witch.” Sophia punched him lightly on the arm,
grinning. “I prefer the idea of fairy godmother.”
“I have never seen such a young fairy godmother. No wrinkles, no white hair.”
Leonard grinned back.
Sophia patted her nose and then her chin, frowning. “Well, I don’t have warts
and I hate brooms,” she replied quickly, “so you’ll have to revise your image of
witches.”
Gabriela giggled, her breath tickling Sophia’s throat.
“Now, my little sister, Domitila, and Andrew,” Leonard motioned to a couple
and murmured in Sophia’s ear, “her boyfriend.”
Sophia giggled, amused.
Domitila was glamorous and certainly a mixture of her parents’ DNA.
Domitila had the same long dark brown hair that fell past her shoulders in soft
waves. Her blue eyes, so much like Leonard’s, were shadowed by long thick lashes
that made a stark contrast against her fair skin. She wore an ankle-length red
wool dress, with a big black belt at her hips. Her boyfriend, Andrew, was an
average-size man with a shaved head, probably to disguise his balding.
“I’m not little anymore, Sophia, just younger. Leo says it to taunt me.”
“You will always be the little sister, Domi,” Alexander retorted.
“Brothers are infuriating, aren’t they?”
Sophia laughed, remembering the kind way Felipe has always treated her.
“Want to exchange brothers?” Domitila asked Sophia, making a face at
Alexander and Leonard. “These two suck.”
“Careful! I wouldn’t mind having Sophia as my sister, Domi. And it would be
quite easy. You’re the same age and look alike. Of course, it is quite noticeable
that Sophia uses her brain.”
“Stop, Leonard! What is your sister going to think?”
“That you’re crazy to like this pain in the ass, Sophia,” Andrew explained
with a smile.
She smiled at the banter. Leonard put his hands on her shoulders and
whirled her to the end of the two-story library.
In a darker corner, sat a tall, large man looking directly at her.
“And that one sulking in the dark is Alice’s brother, Alistair MacCraig.
Alistair, meet my nemesis, Sophia.”
No! Alistair MacCraig? Alistair Connor MacCraig is Leonard’s brother-in-law?!
Please let this be a namesake coincidence.
She squinted.
His frame occupied the big, gilded armchair he sat in, his long legs stretched
in front of him, crossed at his ankles. He stood with a feline grace, incongruous to
his size.
Oh, my. It’s him! She forgot how to breathe. Again. This man does things to
me.
She remembered well those broad, strong shoulders and that vast chest. His
intense forest-green eyes on his rugged face. Silky, long hair her fingers itched to
touch.
Sophia stood in the middle of the room fascinated by the sheer sexual power
he exuded. It seemed she turned into an idiot when it came to him. The scene was
repeating itself. Her thoughts spun wildly in her head. Suddenly, a fear gripped
Sophia. Is this destiny?
Leonard watched her intently and when she gazed up at him, he jutted his
chin in his brother-in-law’s direction.
She stared back at Alistair, not quite certain of what to do, when she noticed
him brushing aside a lock of that midnight-black hair that had fallen over his eyes
in an absentminded way that so enchanted her.
That did it.
An unconditionally delighted grin spread slowly over her face and she let her
feet lead her to him. She tilted her head back when she reached him and his eyes
burned into her soul.
He dipped his head and his hair fell again over his eyes.
“Sophia,” in his deep voice low, intimate, her name was a caress on his lips.
“Thus we meet again.” Despite your refusal to answer my numerous calls and
flowers and cards, I still fucking desire you.
So it seems. But she could not find her voice to say a word. Her heart was
beating so fast that she could feel her blood coursing through her veins. Damn.
This is becoming an annoyance.
His grin grew, as if he knew her heart had quickened.
“I believe in witches, Sophia,” his deep voice hypnotized her.
Gabriela moved from her hiding place, shaking Sophia from her spellbound
state.
“I hope you don’t burn me at the stake,” she murmured to him.
“I don’t burn witches. I set them on fire,” Alistair whispered so low Sophia
thought she had heard wrong.
Gabriela raised her head to study him, unsure if she should defend her
mother or not.
Alistair looked at the child’s face and, startled, his heart stopped in his chest.
Christ! “Your daughter?” he breathed and his hand trailed an inevitable road to
the girl’s hair.
Sophia nodded.
“May I pick her up?”
“She doesn’t—”
As if bewitched by the same spell he had cast over her mother, the timid and
reserved Gabriela extended her chubby arms to him, with an open smile on her
face.
Alistair’s face, simultaneously shimmering with many different emotions,
captivated Sophia. He watched the little girl for a few seconds, mesmerized, before
he sat down again with Gabriela on his lap.
Sophia kneeled on one knee in front of his armchair. The room vanished
from behind her and a cocoon enveloped the three of them. Gabriela seemed as
enraptured by this handsome stranger as he was by her. She ran her small hands
over his hair and fingered the jagged ends.
“Aren’t you charming?” he asked in his deep voice. “How old are you?”
Instead of answering his question, Gabriela countered with one of hers.
“Shouldn’t you cut your hair? It’s kinda weird. Only girls have long hair and…”
She cocked her head to the side, studying him. “You’re not a girl, are you?”
“Gabriela!” Sophia tried to maintain a stern face but a giggle escaped.
He joined in and laughed, throwing his head back. A deep, rich laugh. The
kind that made one want to laugh too. His green eyes twinkled with mirth and he
winked at Sophia.
“No, I’m not a girl.” His smile was infectious. “So, you don’t like my hair, little
one?”
“I didn’t say that. Your hair is, hmm, silky, just like my uncle Felipe’s.” Then
she shook her head. “But it’s like a girl’s. Isn’t it, Mama?”
“Hey, don’t you drag me into this. You started it, you finish it.”
“It’s not fashionable,” she stated, her little fingers plunging into the richness
of his hair again, toying with it.
Alistair felt such peace fill his soul that he wanted to close his eyes and
wallow in it. He took a deep breath, struggling with his feelings. “So, you like
fashion, Gabriela?”
“Yes, I always choose my clothes,” she said in a fancy way. “I want to be like
Mama. She’s the most beautiful girl in the world. Don’t you think?”
Sophia blushed slightly. Oh, my, Gabriela.
“Aye, I do.” His forest-green eyes pierced Sophia’s hazel ones and he
chuckled. He caressed Gabriela’s hair with a pensive air and sighed, a deep,
profound sigh, and said, “And you’re very, very beautiful, too. If you ask me nicely
again and give me a kiss, I’ll cut my hair for you, little lady.”
Gabriela cocked her head slightly to one side, as if hearing something in his
promise that only she could. She put a hand on his cheek. After a moment, she
asked bluntly, “Why don’t you do this for your kids?”
He paled and turned to stone, shutting his eyes. Slowly, so very slowly, he
opened his eyes, the green now almost black. He took a deep breath, as if
steadying himself, his windpipe working convulsively. Enfolding Gabriela’s small
hand in his larger one, he answered, “Because my daughter isn’t here anymore.”
“And where is she?”
Alistair looked at Sophia, as if he didn’t know what to say, asking for her
help.
She covered his hand with hers, squeezing it softly, not exactly
understanding what he was asking of her, but sharing her support.
“She’s— She’s in heaven,” he murmured.
Sophia gave a small, low gasp.
Alistair looked at her as if to apologize. The intense pain he felt prevented
him from saying more, even if he had wanted to. He felt a soft hand caressing his
cheek and gently stroking his eyes, drying the tears he refused to recognize.
“Don’t cry. When I missed Daddy, I used to cry too. Mama taught me if I cry,
I make him sad. I don’t want my father sad. I’m sure you don’t want your
daughter sad, too.” Gabriela sat there, caressing his face, as if she knew him from
eons ago. “What’s her name?”
In a barely audible whisper, Alistair answered, “Nathalie. Her name was
Nathalie.”
“I’m going to ask Daddy to look for her and say that you’re not sad anymore,
okay?”
He nodded and Sophia put her other hand under Alistair’s, enveloping both
his and her daughter’s. She stayed there, kneeling beside his long legs. She
couldn’t move. An overpowering need to hug and comfort that confident and proud
man and to help him mourn the loss of his child sprang from deep inside her.
Sophia leaned in his direction, her hand running over his hand and his arm,
resting on his shoulder. Her eyes bore into his and his head slanted a little in her
direction.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder and gripped it, causing her pain. She
winced.
“We’d better see to our room, darling.” Ethan stressed the word, as if he
meant it as a curse. You said you were faithful, baby. Are you already scattering
your charms in the wind?
Sophia rose, trembling a little and whispered, “God, you scared me.”
“I could see you were engaged in a private talk with MacCraig,” Ethan hissed
between clenched teeth, glaring at Alistair, Ethan’s azure eyes blistered with an
undefined emotion. She is mine!
Alistair had the insane desire to smash his fist on Ethan’s nose and see it
broken and bloodied. He frowned. What the fuck?
Since discovering Heather’s betrayal, no woman had stirred his emotions as
Sophia had. He had learned just to satisfy his own sexual needs and discard the
women. You can’t trust women. Remember, Alistair Connor.
Sophia licked her lips, spinning back toward her daughter. “Let’s go,
Gabriela.” They held hands and stepped away from Alistair.
“See you all later,” Sophia said to the room, then waved and departed.
Andrew, who sat next to Alistair, glanced at the couple exiting the room and
the child walking shyly beside the mother. Tapping his fingers on the sofa arm, he
frowned. “A word of advice, Alistair. Ashford is a jealous man and quite possessive
of his things. He doesn’t like to share or to lose.”
“Things?” Alistair let the word roll on his tongue. “Do you consider her a
thing? What is she? A slave? I thought slavery had been abolished centuries ago.”
“I didn’t mean that. I just wanted to give you some advice. Use it as you wish.
For her sake, if not for yours,” Andrew insisted.
“I think he’s right, Brother,” Alice concurred, quietly arriving at his side.
Alistair rose and poured himself a large whisky in spite of the early hour. He
swallowed it, feeling the burn in his throat, as rage seethed in him. “You’re all
seeing things that don’t exist. Heather and Nathalie have only been dead a year.
For Christ’s sake! I’ve met the woman before; she’s no novelty to me! I was just
talking with her daughter.”
He swallowed the rest of the whisky, banged the glass on the table, and
strolled out of the room, leaving an astonished audience to watch his exit.

You may find my review here.....

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EXCERPT from Trust: Betrayed

Atwood House.
6.55 p.m.
“Okay, little girl,” Sophia clapped her hands at Gabriela who was comfortably
seated on Alistair’s lap. “Time for bed. Now.”
“But, Mama—”
“Don’t you but me. It’s seven o’clock. Time for you to go to bed.”
Gabriela pouted at her mother and then turned her head, looking at Alistair
for help. He just smiled at her and motioned his head to Sophia.
“Five minutes more, Mama, pleeeease.”
Sophia looked at her watch and sighed, “Okay. But only five.”
Gabriela beamed at her mother, “Thank you, Mama.” She turned to Alistair
and asked, “Tell me another story, please?”
“A short one,” he said as Sophia sat on the sofa beside them and put
Gabriela’s bare feet over her lap.
Alistair smiled at Sophia, as he started the story, “Once upon a time, there
was a prince. He was very tall, handsome and rich. But he didn’t have a princess
—”
“What was his name?”
“Ronnoc Riatsila,” he promptly said and winked at Sophia.
“Ugh! What an ugly name.” Gabriela puckered her turned-up nose. “Are you
sure he was a prince?”
“Aye. I’m sure,” he smiled, delighted. “So. The prince was very much alone in
his big, big castle. One day, he decided to hold a contest to find his bride. All the
women in his kingdom would have to go.”
“Only the beautiful ones,” Gabriela said. “Princes can’t marry ugly
princesses.”
“Very well. Only the beautiful ones.” His grin broadened as he put an arm
over Sophia’s shoulder and pulled her closer.
She sighed happily and nestled herself on his side, listening to the story of
the prince called Ronnoc Riatsila, thinking that she wanted his princess to be
called Aihpos.
!
The City of London Bank Headquarters.
Thursday, May 15th, 2008.
4.59 p.m.
“But can’t my driver just pick up the prescription?” Alistair paused as he
listened to what Doctor Lodes’s secretary told him on the phone. “Aye, of course.
I’ll be there.” He hung up and rubbed a hand on his neck. What could be this
urgent? It’s just a prescription.
He left his office with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
!
Lodes’s Clinic.
5.47 p.m.
“Hello, Doctor Ben. How are you?” Alistair hugged the doctor and entered his
office. “How are Aunt Elizabeth and Mark?”
“Everyone’s fine, son. Everyone’s fine,” Doctor Lodes repeated as if to assure
himself that what he said was true. He motioned for Alistair to sit on the sofa at
the end of his office.
Alistair frowned at the strange behavior but complied, sitting on the
comfortable gray sofa and stretching his legs. He was tired. He had been working
like a mad man lately. “I haven’t seen Mark for a long time. He’s disappeared.”
Doctor Lodes scratched his bald head and sat next to Alistair on the sofa.
“You have been too busy to see your friends, Alistair Connor. Mark got married
last month. We missed you at the wedding.”
“What?” Alistair sat up on the sofa. Mark was one of his best friends. “I didn’t
get the invitation.”
“We sent it to your apartment. Heather rang us and talked to Beth. It seems
you had a trip planned.”
“We did travel, but I would have postponed it if I had known that Mark was
getting married. It wasn’t that important. We went to Saint Barths for the weekend
to celebrate my birthday, which was in February.”
“Well, too late now, son.” Doctor Lodes shrugged. “See that you don’t miss
Johansson’s wedding in two weeks. His father told me that Heather has declined
as well.”
What? Alistair’s mouth fell open. What’s going on?
“Did you receive the last results from Heather’s exams?” Doctor Lodes
continued.
Oh, damn. I forgot Heather’s exams. And Emma’s. I don’t even know if they
did them after the treatment. Alistair looked sheepishly at the older man and shook
his head.
The doctor’s face showed no surprise. “Well then. Alistair Connor, I don’t
want you to become nervous with what I’m going to tell you.”
“Too late for that, Doctor Ben. I’ve been freaked out since our appointment in
December.” Alistair almost laughed. But his doctor and friend had such a stern
expression on his face that he knew this was no time for humor.
“My boy, I received confirmation that the moxifloxacin was effective and that
the bacteria were eliminated. Nonetheless... It took too long to diagnose and the
damage… Treatments are evolving and maybe in the future they can reverse
what’s happened…”
“You’re scaring me, Doctor Ben.” Alistair shifted on the sofa and leaned
toward the doctor to better look at his soft brown eyes.
The doctor thinned his lips and looked away for an instant.
When he looked back, his face showed a piercing sadness. “I’m so sorry to
have to tell you this, Alistair Connor. I’ve known you all your life and I love you as
if you were my own son.” He shook his bald head and a cold dreariness sifted
through Alistair’s bones. “But the test results arrived this morning. I still had
hope…” He inhaled deep, rested his hand over Alistair’s and blurted, “Son, I’m
sorry, but the disease has made you infertile.”


You may find my review of Betrayed Here......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB: Trust: Pandora's Box 

TRUST: PANDORA’S BOX, the last installment of the TRUST TRILOGY, follows Ethan, Alistair and Sophia as each one of them strives to live happily ever after. 
But a greedy man, who has uncovered the many secrets and wrong deeds committed by Ethan, Alistair and Sophia, realizes they could be worth millions. 
Many are invited to join his team. Each one has an agenda. Each one has a target. 
Things get out of control when Pandora’s Box is opened and the demons are let loose. 
With so many enemies out for revenge, what will the future bring to Ethan, Alistair and Sophia? 
Eventually, wishes and nightmares come true… 
Will hope survive? 

This book contains graphic sex scenes and mild violence. For mature audiences.

You May read my review here.... 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author Bio

I live in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, with my husband and two daughters. 
Besides being an author, I'm a part-time lawyer, and always had great interest and defense of the violation of children’s and women’s rights. I also have a Master’s in Business Law and a BA in Fine Arts.
I speak four languages fluently: Portuguese, English, French and Italian, and I’ve studied three others: Spanish, German and Hebrew. 
Since I was a kid I’ve always loved to read, write and listen to music. I lived and studied in England, France, Italy, Switzerland and, of course, Brazil.
After twenty-two years of practicing law, I decided to give writing a go. And - amazingly - it was just the piece that was missing in my life.
I also wrote “THE MODERN MAN: A philosophical divagation about the evil banality of daily acts.”

You can find more information on the TRUST TRILOGY: 
On my website: http://cristianeserruya.com.br

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