5 Hearts from the Romance Studio! ""In Love's Alchemy, Ciar Cullen has written a fascinating and highly
creative story that defines the fact that something as simple as two
people can come together and form something so special that is called
love. I highly recommend this most creative, highly imaginative,
passionate romance to all readers especially those who enjoy the
paranormal."--Anita
Paranormal Romance Reviews writes an awesome thumbs up for Love's Alchemy! In part, it says "Ms. Cullen's mystical tale is full of plot twists, danger, and intrigue. She intertwines facts and cleverly puts a spin on the legendary philosopher's stone. She will make the reader believe love can truly transcends time itself. I do hope the author plans on writing a sequel! Well done!"
Two Lips Reviews picks Love's Alchemy as a Recommended Read! Love’s Alchemy will definitely “wow” you. This intricately woven and suspenseful plot had me wonder what would happen from one page to the next. Laced with a strong dose of humor, Ciar Cullen has penned a definite must read! I absolutely, positively, adored this book and cannot say enough good things about it.
Fallen Angel Reviews gives Love's Alchemy 5 angels and raves: "Love’s Alchemy is funny, fast paced, erotic and full of plot twists that keep the reader guessing what will happen next. If any book screamed SEQUEL, it is Love’s Alchemy."
Literary Nymphs writes "Love’s Alchemy is a mystical story laced with never ending love, betrayal, hope and despair. Readers will quickly immerse themselves in this tale where the magic of facts and fiction, myths and legends, will transcend time. Ms. Cullen is a phenomenal writer whose stories are often surrounded in ancient mysteries, always full of passion and never a disappointment. Love’s Alchemy is a must read for any reader who loves the paranormal or simply has a curious mind.
EXCERPT
Quickly turning away, Sidra concentrated on her glass of wine. Damn it, why had she talked to the girl? She didn’t look so innocent now, and Sidra suspected Terri was spilling everything she’d learned about her. Well, so what? It wasn’t a crime to meet people over the Internet. She hated that hunky Donovan knew it, though. No doubt he’d have a good laugh about it. I’d laugh if it weren’t so damned serious. If this guy only knew the truth of why I’m here, he wouldn’t be flirting with me. He’d think I’m a nutcase. Maybe I am.
Disappointed and weary, Sidra wondered about SLIman’s true identity. Maybe he’d have some good excuse. How could the man she’d chatted with nightly for a month have done this to her? He’d been ... a friend, a lifeline, or so she had thought. In her darkest moments, when she thought she might lose her mind to her visions or to her loneliness, she fantasized about him being more than the nerdy researcher he claimed to be. In her dreams, he was handsome, and worldly, and ...
A sputter of laughter from the brothers brought Sidra sharply out of her musings. You’re pathetic, Sidra. They’re laughing at you. What a fucking mistake. Her muscles tightened in anger, and heat rose to her cheeks. Just don’t cry. You always cry when you’re pissed. Get out of here now, and never do anything like this again.
She pulled on her jacket and scooted to the edge of the booth to get up when a strong hand pressed on her shoulder with just enough pressure to keep her seated.
Sidra gazed up into the face that must have launched a thousand fantasies. Donovan. The dark blue eyes that seemed so alluring at a distance mesmerized her up close. His spicy cologne filled the air between them, and Sidra labored not to breathe in deeply to fill her lungs with the wonderful, mysterious scent of him. Donovan oozed confidence and ease as he tossed back a stray lock of hair and crossed his arms. Look at him -- he’s posing so you can admire him! Vain son of a bitch. I’d like to knock you down three notches, hot stuff.
“Listen, Lestat, I told your spy I’m not interested.”
He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Lestat? Oh, Terri’s nickname for me. Sorry to disappoint you, love, but I’m not one of the undead.” His light British accent surprised her, and added more charisma to an already charming man. Of course, he wouldn’t be from Brooklyn, would he? That would be too ordinary.
A smirk pulled at his full lips as he sat across from Sidra and pushed the martini across the table as if in challenge, watching her intently. She struggled to pull her gaze way from his, the sexy pools of deep blue that caressed her soul. God, what a face. As if he heard her thought, his smirk broadened into a full smile that made her heart skip a beat. Has that smile ever failed you, hot stuff?
“So if you’re not the undead, you’re dead?” Sidra tried to sound as sarcastic as she could, hoping to shake off his growing allure.
He winked mischievously. “Aren’t you a clever girl?”
“Evidently not quite clever enough. Goodnight, Van.” Oh, Sidra, you’re going to walk out on this guy? Are you sure?
“I’ll simply follow you onto the street if I must.”
“I beg your pardon?” Something in Van’s voice belied the twinkle in his eyes. Was he serious? Certainly such a suave, affluent man didn’t need to stalk women down the streets of SoHo.
“You heard me. I have no intention of letting you slip away, Siddhartha.”
“Follow me and I’ll shoot you.”
He arched a thick dark brow and eyed her with amusement. “I can’t imagine where you’d hide a piece in that dress. Armani, isn’t it?”
“What? Yes ... What has that to do with ...” Sidra lost her trail of thought as his stare intensified.
“Besides, you don’t want to get away from me.”
His gaze slid down her body in an open sexual appraisal, heating her skin, sending her blood coursing through her veins, taking her breath away. Damn him, he’s good at this.
“Bank on it, love. I’m armed.” Proud that her sarcastic imitation of his accent made him blink in surprise, Sidra found the nerve to return his sexy stare.
“Armed and dangerous. I like that in a girl. Although my bet is, you aren’t armed and probably never have been. At least I’m willing to take that chance.”
“Listen, Van, it’s clear you’re a guy who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. Probably never had to. So let me make it clear for you. Fuck off.”
Sidra stood quickly and fumbled for her purse, cursing silently that she let his looks and manner unnerve her.
“Sidra, it’s me. SLIman.”
She froze in her tracks, her blood turning icy. No, impossible. He had said he was forty, a little heavy, and balding.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sidra heard the quiver in her own voice. Had she told Terri the name of her mystery date? No!
“Please allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Donovan Barlowe, AKA SLIman. We made an appointment last night to meet here to discuss our shared interests and experiences.”
Turning back toward him, Sidra reached for the back of the booth to steady herself as she slowly sat down, clutching her purse to her chest with trembling hands. It can’t be him. We’ve written to each other every night. I told him so much. All the time this man, this god listened, consoled, counseled her?
He nodded seriously. “Please call me Van. Before you ask, you have some explaining to do yourself. I really didn’t think a disabled grandmother would want to meet in a SoHo bar at midnight. Not such a sophisticated cover, SLIgirl.”
“I suppose not. It’s only that ...”
“A girl can’t be too careful. Especially one that looks like ... you.” Van ran his gaze slowly down her body again and settled on her eyes, shaking his head slightly.
“Like what? What do I look like?” Sidra cursed silently for asking, for hungering to know what he thought of her. “There you go again,” she heard her mother’s voice.
“Ah, you’re on a fishing expedition, then? Surely you’re used to stopping traffic with that face and body? Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are, love. Very pleasantly surprised.”
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