ar Reader,
When I was invited to be a part of the Diamond Club series with Harlequin Presents, I was thrilled. When I learned that my romance was going to be inspired by Beauty & the Beast, I nearly shrieked. This fairy tale is one of my favorites, and the first movie I ever saw in theaters (well, a third of it—my father had to take me out because I kept screaming at the wolves!).
Writing Griffith and Rosalind’s love story, set against the backdrop of the Normandy coast, was a dream come true. Recreating the Beast’s castle, and adding a major dash of spice to a tale as old as time, was so much fun. I loved researching French chateaus, especially the Château de Gudanes in southern France. This restored home was not only a physical inspiration but a personal wonder as I learned how much restoration the castle has undergone in recent years. It was a treat describing the French retreat Griffith and Rosalind find themselves trapped in as they finally succumb to the attraction simmering between them.
I hope you enjoy reading their love story. Have a wonderful summer, and happy reading!
Love, Emmy

“If you don’t sign, I’m fired. If you call Nettleton & Thompson, I’m fired.” She threw up her hands in the air, barely keeping a grip on the contract. “So congratulations, you have me over a barrel.”
“Over a barrel?”
She rolled her eyes. “Helpless. At your mercy.”
“You don’t sound helpless, Miss Sutton.”
The heat trickled back in at the hint of admiration in his tone. Heat that only upped her irritation. How could she possibly be attracted to such an infuriating, self-absorbed man?
“I’m not helpless. I’m not a damsel in distress. I’ve continued forward through five canceled appointments, numerous hang-ups by your oh-so-efficient secretaries, and traveling over five-hundred miles trying to track you down with my boss breathing down my neck and putting the future of my career in your hands. If I can survive that, I can survive anything.”
Her chest rose and fell as she stared up at his shadowed face. She’d probably already signed her future away with her outburst. But God, it had felt good to finally vent her anger at his arrogance, at her career being reduced to her ability to get one simple signature.
She ran a hand through her curls and looked longingly at the partially open door before she turned back to him.
One last time. Try to explain just one last time.
“Do you not understand? If you don’t sign, you’ll lose everything—”
“I’ve already lost plenty, Miss Sutton.” Cold suffused his words, all traces of amusement and admiration gone. He started walking down the stairs with slow, measured steps that made her chest tighten with dreaded anticipation. “My father. My girlfriend. My looks. My ability to walk in a crowd without scaring small children.” The shadows crept up, revealed broad shoulders and a strong neck, the skin marred by one thick scar tinged pink. “What makes you think I give a damn about money anymore?”
And then he stepped into the light.