The pictures in Nicole’s mind are paving her way to a future filled with promises and hope but with a relentless serial killer hot on her trail, will she be able to weave her way through the web of lies set out before her? As Dylan and Bradley continue to hide Nicole and her daughter, they find survival is more than just existence. Surrendering all that they thought was important, they promise to protect the two girls, no matter what the cost. In risking it all, they learn what it means to live, but do they have what it takes to stay alive?
PRAISE for Pictures, Lies & Promises
Tiffany Carmouché has done it again! Pictures, Lies & Promises continues the dangerous battle that is waged by Dylan and Bradley to protect Nicole, the woman that they both love, from an obsessive serial killer. This story is a nail-biter ... suspenseful, sexy, scary and surprising, right up to the end; complete with, of course, another cliff-hanger! ☆☆☆☆☆~Teri McGill
This is an AMAZING follow-up to Becoming Invisible! I absolutely loved it! I was hooked from the very first page to the very end and still wanted more. Tiffany Carmouché tells a story that keeps the reader captivated and involved, while leaving them wanting more. This book contains all the elements of an AWESOME romantic suspense novel. I highly recommend this book, as well as the entire series! You will be hooked! ☆☆☆☆☆~Susan Griffiths
Pictures, Lies & Promises is a tension-fuelled read. Readers will be held captive by the world and drama that Tiffany Carmouché creates. The epic suspense, teamed with a whole lot of heat, transforms this amazing series into a scorching-hot read. ☆☆☆☆☆ ~Bex – Bex ‘n’ Books
Sneak Peek of The Impostor,
Books in series:
Sneak Peek of The Impostor,
A Love Story by Tiffany Carmouche- ©2012
Sneak Peek into a scene of Becoming Invisible, the third book in The Alaskan Heart Saga. By Tiffany Carmouché ©2013
…I brought the orders to the bar, knowing that Brad would torment me about the song Dylan was singing for me.
“Can I have eight Buds, two martinis, a glass of white zin, and three shots of Jose Cuervo?”
“I think that’s a little excessive, even for you. Look at you, you’re blushing.”
“Shut up, Bradley.”
“He wrote you a song. Is that what it takes? I think maybe I will take guitar lessons.”
“Shut up, Bradley.”
Dylan was still singing. I was still blushing. I tried to ignore Brad and turned back to the stage. The song was almost over, and I wanted to savor every moment of it. No one had ever done anything like this for me before.
“And we wonder why he always gets the girl. You know every girl in this place hates you right about now. It’s bad enough he likes you, but he’s singing a song for you.”
“Shut up, Bradley! Just give me the drinks.” I proceeded over to the customers with a full tray, all my attention savoring Dylan’s every word. He was staring into my eyes, and I was gazing into his. I didn’t even notice the tiny step down into the lower level. My foot twisted and drinks flew through the air as I fell to the ground. So graceful. Shit. I was covered in tequila and martinis. I scanned the room, completely humiliated, praying nobody had seen me, but realizing on a slow night like tonight, everyone had.
Dylan stopped playing for a second, but when he realized I was all right, he winked at me with a grin. One of the customers sitting at a nearby table helped me up.
“You okay, miss?”
“Just incredibly mortified.” I picked at my wet clothing, trying to unstick my shirt from my body. He scrambled to help me pick the glasses up off the floor.
“Thank you so much.”
“You sure you are okay?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” I snuck back to the bar. Now not only was I bright red, but completely self-conscious.
“That was classic. You fell with such grace,” Brad picked at me.
“Shut up, Bradley. Oh my god, that was so embarrassing.”
“Are you kidding? It made my night.”
“You are such a jerk. Give me some new drinks, please.”
“You sure you can handle them with pretty boy on the stage?”
“Bradley, shut up! Can I get off after this? It’s slow and I’m all sticky.”
“It’s almost closing. You can handle thirty more minutes. There are only three of you. Besides, if I let you go home before he gets off stage, Dylan will kill me. He is bigger than I am, so that wouldn’t be good.” He tried to lighten my mood.
“Please? I feel so gross.”
“You are cute wet. Now give those customers their drinks. And you are cut off.” He smiled. He knew I hadn’t had anything to drink.
As I made my way across the floor, hoping no one would notice me, I glanced to the stage.
Dylan winked at me again, mouthing, “You okay?”
I just nodded, even though I was probably damaged for life. I just wanted to go home. Let me hide for the next . . . eternity. Why wouldn’t Brad let me leave? It was only thirty minutes. Emily could handle the pitiful crowd.
“Thank you all. We will see you Tuesday night.” Oh, shit. They were getting off the stage. I dashed over to the bar.
“Brad, I gotta go. Can you call me a cab?” Cabs didn’t fill the parking lot on Sunday nights the way they did on other weekend nights.
Right then I felt Dylan’s muscular arms wrap themselves around me as his warm body pressed against mine, trapping me at the bar. He moved my sticky hair away from my neck and his tongue gently savored it. “Mmm, you taste like Tequila. I couldn’t wait to get off stage and taste you. You looked so delicious.”
“That was so embarrassing.” I turned in his arms, facing him.
“I’m just glad you are all right. You fell with grace, I have to say.” Dylan smiled—such a lie. My legs and arms had gone hurling through the air with all of the alcohol.
“Yeah, right.” I lowered my head, totally horrified.
“You are so adorable when you blush.” He lifted my chin. “You really do taste good. I can’t wait to get you out of this place and get you home. We’ll have to get you out of those sticky clothes.”
I playfully smacked him. “You’re so bad.”
I searched for a way to say goodnight, but I couldn’t with him so close. I didn’t want to break free of his arms. I wished I could stay there forever. They felt so safe.
“I can’t go home with you, Dylan. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you can. I promise not to bite.” He kissed my neck.
I pulled away from him a little bit. “I’m not ready to do anything. If you don’t want to go out tomorrow I understand.”
He pressed his finger over my mouth. “Shh, I just want to be with you. If you’re not ready, then I will wait.” ~Sneak Peek into The Impostor, A Love Story by Tiffany Carmouche ©2012
The light peeking through the curtain of the tiny cabin squeezed through the cracks of Dylan’s eyes. Morning. He tried to roll over onto his side and realized his hand was caught. He yawned, trying to dislodge it and became conscious that both hands were trapped.
What the hell! His hands, they were tied to the bed. He glanced down. His naked body was fuckin’ tied to the bed! Nicole. Nicole was gone. Shit. What the hell happened?
He struggled to break free of the binding, but it tightened as he wrestled with it, cutting off the circulation in his hands. Where the hell is she? Steve captured her. Oh my god! He has her! How the hell did he sleep through it?
Dylan scanned the room for signs of blood, signs of a struggle. She was gone. Steve captured Nicole! He yanked, tugging at the binding. His wallet? His wallet rested open on the dresser in front of him. What the fuck is going on? His eyes drifted to the floor. His clothes were gone. All of them. There was no sign Nicole had even been there. Was he drugged? Why didn’t he wake up?
He thrust his body to the side, trying to break the binding again, throwing his shoulder out of its socket. Ahh. Pain shot through him. He gritted his teeth. He had to find Nicole. He had to save Nicole! Despite the pain, he tried again, propelling his body over. Ouch. He eased back, trying to force his shoulder back into its socket with his body weight.
He must have been drugged. What time is it? He looked over at the digital clock, Six am. What time did we go to sleep?
Dammit! The stabbing pain in his shoulder intensified with every movement. Snap. His face contorted as the shoulder finally jammed back in place.
A shadow passed by the window. Too big to be Nicole. The figure hovered by the door, taunting him. He’s back. He tugged. He pulled. I have got to get up.
The person fidgeted with the doorknob. Someone was trying to come in. He heaved his arm forward again and fractured the wood on the bed frame. He jerked his arm forward again. He had to break free. He had to break free. © 2013 Becoming Invisible
Sneak Peek into a scene of Beciming Invisible, the third book in The Alaskan Heart Saga. By Tiffany carmouche ©2013
I couldn’t help it. I stared at him in partial disbelief. What did he see in me? What did this beautiful Roman God see in me? My hand brushed against his and his fingers played with mine, lacing our hands together, as he ran his thumb over skin.
He gazed down at me. Butterflies danced inside me, but it made no sense. I had made love to him only hours before, but still his touch, his gentle, non-sexual touch, excited me and a chill prickled my spine.
“Where is everyone?” Dylan glanced at his cell. “I can’t wait to tell them the news.” He bubbled with enthusiasm. God, he was so adorable. The light cast a shadow on his muscular physique, still apparent in his tight shirt even though his jacket hid much of it. He truly looked like he belonged in an art museum. Only the work of a master could have chiseled every line so perfectly. His sculpted cheek bones revealed his smile as his powerful torso pulled me near.
He towered over me, so strong and intimidating, but so full of playfulness. .. ©2013 Becoming Invisible
Sneak Peek into a scene of Beciming Invisible, the third book in The Alaskan Heart Saga.
By Tiffany carmouche ©2013
He fidgeted, looking around the kitchen. He had to look natural. How could he pretend that he wasn’t sitting around all morning holding his breath, waiting for that door to open and her to emerge?
“Good morning.” She entered the kitchen. She stretched. The oversized t-shirt he let her borrow lifted, revealing a little more of her thigh.
He needed to stay focused. She was Dylan’s girl. She was Dylan’s girl. “So you decided to rise from the dead?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure I’m completely alive yet, but nothing a cup of coffee can’t cure.” She jumped up on the counter, letting her legs dangle off of it.
He walked over to the coffee pot and poured her a cup, shoveling sugar in it and adding just enough milk to make it a rich caramel color. He walked over to the front of her. Her hair was tossed around and her face was bare of make-up. So fresh. So kissable. He handed her the cup.
Her hands cradled it. “Mmm, so warm.” She brought the cup to her face, breathing in the scent and then took a sip. “Oh my God, Bradley, this is perfect.”
“Yeah, I have to make it extra strong so you can still taste the coffee with all that stuff you smother it with. So when I drink it black, I almost have a heart attack.”
“Come here.” She clutched his shirt, pulling him closer. “Close your eyes.” He felt the cup touch his lips and she lifted it so the warm sweetness filled his mouth. It was good. Oh my God, it was delicious. Sinful like. He opened his eyes.
“Perfection, right?” She raised her eyebrows.
He brought his hands up and covered hers, bringing the cup back to his lips to get another sip. “This is good.” He stole the cup from her hands.
“Hey, that’s my coffee.”
“Not anymore.” He stepped back with the mug in his hand.
“Get your own.” She jumped off the counter. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so her breasts bounced as she hit the floor. What the hell was she trying to do to him?
He took another sip. “Oh my God, this is like heaven.”
“Bradley, it’s mine.” She rushed over to him and he lifted the cup out of her reach. She raised her arm and tried to grab it, but she couldn’t. She jumped up, trying to steal the cup. “You are so mean!” Her body slightly rubbed against his as she fought him for the coffee. His heart began to beat faster. She smelled so good. He laughed at her failed attempts.
Then all of a sudden, she rushed to the sink and picked up a glass, filling it with water. Before he knew what was going on, she threw it in his face. “Holy shit!” He stumbled back, stunned.
“This is war.” She grabbed the black hose connected to the counter and turned the cold water on full blast.
“Nikki, what the hell are you doing?” he pleaded as she squirted him. “That’s freezing!” He put his hand out blocking the spray of water, and put the coffee cup on the counter.
She dropped the hose and ran for the cup. Picking it up, she rushed into the living room, tracking the water through the house.
“You’re crazy.” He shut off the water and ran after her.
“Don’t mess with my coffee.” She grinned, savoring her sip, as she stood protected on the other side of the couch. He lunged left and she lunged right, and as he rushed around the couch, she climbed over the top and ran to a chair in the dining room, jumping up on it.
“Now who’s too short?” She lifted the cup out of his reach. Most of the coffee had spilled out, but it was the principle of the thing.
“You forget - I’m stronger than you.” He picked her up by her legs. They were covered in goose bumps. She grabbed onto his hair, laughing hysterically as he carried her back into the kitchen.
“Stop. I’m sorry. You can have it.”
“It’s too late now. You’re in for it.” He set her down in the kitchen next to the sink and pinned her against the cabinet. Grabbing the hose, he turned the water on full blast and held the hose directly over her head.
“That’s freezing! Oh my God, Bradley. Ahh. Oh my God. That is cold!” She reached for the hose but it was too high. She squirmed to get unpinned, but he had trapped her. She reached over and shut off the water. As he reached to turn it on, she grabbed at the hose, they wrestled, and he slipped and fell onto the wet floor. She placed her bare foot on his chest, lifting her arms like a heavy weight champion. He tried not to look at the wet t- shirt clinging to her body or the beautiful thigh that pinned him down. She pulled out the hose gun and aimed it at him. “Do you give up?”
“I do. You win. You crazy woman. You win!”
“Don’t mess with my coffee.” She reached down to help him up.
He had a good mind to pull her down in the puddles and roll over on top of her. God he wanted her. Feisty woman!
As he stood, he looked around the kitchen. “Look what you’ve done.”
“Me? You were the one who stole my coffee. That’s the last time I’m sharing with you.”
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Books in series:
“Alaska? Who goes to Alaska?” Escaping an abusive ex boyfriend, Nicole, a struggling young single-mother, convinces her best friend to travel to a place she knows little about, in search of better life.
Nicole is scared of getting hurt again, but Dylan’s chiseled body and chocolate brown eyes captivate her. And soon she finds herself in the arms of the sexy lead singer.
In Alaska, she discovers the power of friendship and true love and begins to let down her guard. But is her security a facade? Soon Nicole’s innocent beauty taunts a sinister man, and she is caught in a web of deception and danger. She realizes someone she trusts has been stalking her. Petrified, she wonders, how can she escape? Miles of wilderness surround her. She hears something. Someone is there. Should she cry for help or stay silent?
Obsession and Sacrifice is the second book in The Alaskan Heart Saga. A series about unexpected love and a woman's fight for survival.
When Nichole wakes up in the hospital room from a coma, she has no memory of who she is or how she got there. Only the scars on her body reveal some horrific event took place and she is lucky to be alive…alive…but could she still be in danger?
Her only hope to rediscover her past and avoid a killer's obsession lies in the hands of two men: sexy Dylan, her boyfriend, who used to captivate her and now prays she will remember how much they cared for one another, and Bradley, her charming best friend, who has secretly loved her all along. She feels safe around both men, but to her, they are strangers. Nicole must decide who to trust, not only with her heart, but with her life.
They are rivals--both men want to win her love. But they are allies as well. The two vow to give her a second chance at life and both will sacrifice everything to make sure she survives.
Becoming Invisible is the third book in a New Adult series about finding unexpected love and a woman’s fight for survival.
About the author:
Best Selling Author Tiffany Carmouché has been given the title, The Queen of The Cliffhanger and Best Unknown Author You Need to Discover. When Tiffany Carmouché is not writing suspenseful romance novels, you can find her sculpting, traveling, teaching, singing, dancing, escaping in music or enjoying her family.
From skydiving in Alaska to scuba diving in Hawaii, Carmouché has traveled the world seeking adventure and it is apparent in the books she writes. Her adventures include riding camels in Africa, swimming under the stars in Puerto Rico, dancing salsa in Ecuador, and walking the cobblestone roads of Assisi, Italy. She has also found fulfillment working with the disabled and orphans in Argentina and Mexico. Her most cherished moments, however, have been watching her two beautiful daughters grow and strive to accomplish their own dreams.
Despite all of these amazing experiences, she has survived many struggles. There was a time she felt defeated, but now she is recommitted to savoring experiences both in the novels she writes and in the life she lives each day. Her secret hope is that anyone who is struggling will realize there is a light at the end of the tunnel and no matter how hard the fight, no matter how many times they have been knocked down, it is always worth staggering up to their feet and learning to breathe again.
Out of the Shadows
As some of you know, I, like Nicole in The Alaska Series, escaped an abusive relationship.
I NEED YOU! This is something that is really close to my heart! ~Tiffany
In October of 2014, the inaugural Out of the Shadows Conference will be held in the Nation's Capital Washington DC. This event is to showcase women who have survived abuse and began their lives over. The hope is it will give courage to women who are contemplating taking a step out of the shadows. We will have it all; an awards night for survivors, indie authors, bloggers, hot men, self defense classes, a dance party, and MORE! It will be a celebration of hope! If you are interested in volunteering to help make this event amazing, attending or finding out how you can nominate someone who has stepped out of the shadows and begun their life over, please email me. I am looking for a dedicated, fun and resourceful team to make this event amazing! If you are interested in helping in any way, please let me know.
I am writing an anthology featuring stories of people who have been through a physically, or mentally abusive relationship and survived. It will be a book compiled of our stories. I feel if we can give even one person the courage to leave and break free of the cycle of abuse, we will have succeeded.
If you or anyone you know would like to be a part of this project, please contact me: at firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com
Submissions can be:
*A chapter ~your story (A paragraph -5 pages)
*Quotes from you on hope or overcoming obstacles
*Pictures, photography or drawings (black and white)
*Submissions can be from an adult or child’s point of view
*If you would prefer interview questions, I can send them instead/as well.
Thank you ~Tiffany~
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