Let's say hello to author Dalia Florea
Dalia grew up in Queens, New York and now makes her home in Northern Virginia outside of Washington, D.C. She is the author of Mirrored and Teardrops Know My Name and Whatever Dude.
Her debut, Mirrored reached Amazon’s Bestseller’s list in Women’s Detective Fiction. Her second novel, Teardrops Know My Name also reached Amazon’s Bestseller’s list in African American Mystery, Thriller and Suspense. Whatever Dude a humorous short read reached Amazon’s Bestseller’s list in Humor & Entertainment.
She is an avid reader who enjoys writing fiction stories with a mixture of mystery and suspense sprinkled with romance. When she isn’t crafting mystery suspense stories with a dash of romance, she enjoys reading, attending live music concerts, visiting wineries and solving puzzles.
WHY I WRITE: I write books because I’ve always been fascinated by words and stories. I write the kind of stories that I want to read. I find it fascinating to create worlds that include mystery and suspense where I can expose who’s behind it all. It gives me an out of body experience. I don’t know why I started writing, however, I do know that I will never quit.
“I hear what you’re saying, and I understand, but you can’t live the rest of your life that way. You can’t shield yourself from getting to know someone and never open yourself up to love again because of your past relationships.” He sipped water from the glass in front of him. His eyes were fixed on hers.
He stood and came around to her side of the booth, sat next to her, and reached for her hand, taking it into his and intertwining their fingers. He slowly lifted her hand to his mouth and gently pressed his lips to the back of it. Feeling his warm breath against the skin of her hand made her tremble. “I promise you that if you give me a chance, you won’t need to worry about anything. You will see no red flags when it comes to me. I have no secrets and no hidden agenda,” he said softly, lips brushing against her hand again. He lifted his eyes, looking her straight in the face.
Damn. He’s making this difficult. She couldn’t think clearly. Her senses had been heightened by his sensual touch, his silky smooth dark skin, and his masculine musk mixed with the spicy cologne he wore. She had to stop herself from being drawn in by this magnetic force that threatened to take her over mentally and physically.
He tipped her head up with his finger and lowered his mouth onto hers, brushing his lips against hers, teasing her, barely touching them at first. Then he whispered against her lips, “Please give me”— soft kiss—“a chance.”
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