Despite the sexy hint of an appealing Irish brogue, Kitty’s new boss is bent on micromanaging his sister’s wedding and the crazy fake relationship she’s been dragged into. The only thing they seem to have in common, is that neither of them believes in happy-ever-afters. But the more time Kitty spends with the tycoon, the more she begins to suspect there’s a lot of fire beneath his cool facade.
With the past complicating their present, and the zoom lenses of photographers everywhere they go, the commitment phobic control freak and the globe-trotting free spirit clash and ignite.
Interview with Suzi Jennings
Can you tell us a little about your book?
Tangling with the London Tycoon is a contemporary romance between Rosco Redmond and Kitty Mayfair, two characters who think they have nothing in common. In fact their perceived differences are the very reasons they should be together.
It takes them a while to see this for themselves!
In the meantime they endure a complicated sort of fake relationship, are hounded by the paparazzi, feel harassed by memories of childhood traumas, and try to resist being seduced by the promise of their own happily ever after.
Throw in an international pop star, some meddling, match-making Irish relatives, and a lucrative private palace photography contract. And, phew--it’s hectic!
How did you come up with the concept and the characters for the story?
Rosco and Kitty popped into my head as fully formed characters. I loved them instantly. Kitty made me laugh and Rosco made me smile--he was doomed from the moment he opened his smart London door!
Name one thing you won’t leave home without.
My diary. I need to write things down to ensure they happen!
Name three things on your desk right now.
- A ‘6 Minute Morning Yoga’ book
- A pot plant half eaten by my cat—she thinks it’s a salad bar
- My diary
What do you like to do when you aren't writing?
Read, Pinterest, garden, and dream of travelling on a castle tour.
What types of scenes are your most favorite to write?
I love writing witty dialogue scenes with lots of underlying emotion and sensual attraction. My current favorite is under a table at a wedding—you’ll have to buy Tangling with the London Tycoon to read it J
Her mouth formed a soft pout of concentration. Beautiful without the artifice of makeup. Too late, he forgot he was only there to watch her work.
She had already removed her beret but now started to undress as she moved, apparently oblivious of him.
She slowly unwrapped her woolens in obvious response to the heat of the room. The belt at her slender waist, a wide green textured-leather affair with an oversized silver buckle, was cinched tighter as the buckle was eased and then released.
He swallowed, suddenly thirsty as his body responded with an unwelcome increase of tension.
Next, she dropped the belt gently onto the floor beside her camera bag, with barely a glance.
The woolen wrap-coat flapped open, and she pushed it aside, her hands spanning her waist as she looked critically at the furniture in the room.
She drew a curtain and moved a chair. Unhurried. Proficient.
Standing back, still lost in her set-up plans, she shed the coat completely and let it fall in a raspberry red pool beside the belt.
She reminded him of a Christmas present, red and green, multi-wrapped to frustrate and excite the lucky recipient.
He groaned. That was the sort of Redmond thinking he never indulged in. The sort of thinking his father would have said aloud and laughed, the center of attention. Drinks all around, live-for-the-moment sort of thinking.
Risk-everything-you-worked-for thinking.
Rosco frowned.
Kitty’s next layer of clothing was some sort of see-through, loose-weave top, falling off one shoulder and doing nothing to hide the skintight black leggings and tank top beneath it.
He couldn’t take his eyes off that smooth, slender shoulder. A sudden desire to know what that creamy skin felt like wound his tension up another notch.
The camera came off next—a heavy professional model and perfect for the job, Rosco was forced to admit. Kitty looped it carefully over her head and checked it thoroughly.
Suddenly, that quiet sense of concentration was replaced by one of frenetic energy as Kitty set up the equipment she needed. She motioned for Amanda to stay in the chair where she was, then she stood back to assess her composition and nodded briskly.
She looked excited and totally immersed in her work. The muscles in his right leg started to cramp, but he resisted massaging the familiar, old-injury ache, a sure sign of tension he refused to acknowledge. He couldn’t take his eyes off the action.
Kitty stalked backward on those impossibly high heels toward the coffee table, her eyes never leaving Amanda. With quick, fluid movements, she peeled off her last layer of decent clothing, then scooped up her long dark hair and twisted it into a haphazard knot. It settled low on the creamy skin of her neck, above the skintight black-clad length of her.
There was nothing between her body and Rosco’s imagination.
She had already removed her beret but now started to undress as she moved, apparently oblivious of him.
She slowly unwrapped her woolens in obvious response to the heat of the room. The belt at her slender waist, a wide green textured-leather affair with an oversized silver buckle, was cinched tighter as the buckle was eased and then released.
He swallowed, suddenly thirsty as his body responded with an unwelcome increase of tension.
Next, she dropped the belt gently onto the floor beside her camera bag, with barely a glance.
The woolen wrap-coat flapped open, and she pushed it aside, her hands spanning her waist as she looked critically at the furniture in the room.
She drew a curtain and moved a chair. Unhurried. Proficient.
Standing back, still lost in her set-up plans, she shed the coat completely and let it fall in a raspberry red pool beside the belt.
She reminded him of a Christmas present, red and green, multi-wrapped to frustrate and excite the lucky recipient.
He groaned. That was the sort of Redmond thinking he never indulged in. The sort of thinking his father would have said aloud and laughed, the center of attention. Drinks all around, live-for-the-moment sort of thinking.
Risk-everything-you-worked-for thinking.
Rosco frowned.
Kitty’s next layer of clothing was some sort of see-through, loose-weave top, falling off one shoulder and doing nothing to hide the skintight black leggings and tank top beneath it.
He couldn’t take his eyes off that smooth, slender shoulder. A sudden desire to know what that creamy skin felt like wound his tension up another notch.
The camera came off next—a heavy professional model and perfect for the job, Rosco was forced to admit. Kitty looped it carefully over her head and checked it thoroughly.
Suddenly, that quiet sense of concentration was replaced by one of frenetic energy as Kitty set up the equipment she needed. She motioned for Amanda to stay in the chair where she was, then she stood back to assess her composition and nodded briskly.
She looked excited and totally immersed in her work. The muscles in his right leg started to cramp, but he resisted massaging the familiar, old-injury ache, a sure sign of tension he refused to acknowledge. He couldn’t take his eyes off the action.
Kitty stalked backward on those impossibly high heels toward the coffee table, her eyes never leaving Amanda. With quick, fluid movements, she peeled off her last layer of decent clothing, then scooped up her long dark hair and twisted it into a haphazard knot. It settled low on the creamy skin of her neck, above the skintight black-clad length of her.
There was nothing between her body and Rosco’s imagination.
She writes contemporary romance where family secrets, powerful friendships and enduring loves heal hearts and forge happily-ever-afters. Her characters are feisty, flirty, fun - and talkative! It’s a match made in keyboard heaven as Suzi is more than happy to listen.
When not writing she can be found on Pinterest, sipping creamy lattes, still dreaming of castles she’d love to visit.
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