When my mother prostituted me to the Winthrop brotherhood, I wasn't expecting my party of one to be anything but old.
Dark hair, green eyes, and an arrogant smirk for miles, the mysterious man was chiseled perfection from that clenched jaw down to his Tom Ford lace-ups. An hour with him was, let's just say the cream on his thirty-five-year birthday cake wasn't the only thing he was licking. A dream come true for any seventeen-year-old and one I'd never see again.
That's what I thought until a new teacher walked into the room at my school, a month later.
My reaction: 'Holy shit.'
That's until my father invited said teacher, apparently his old friend, to dinner.
My reaction: 'God, help me.'
Because Saint Sinclair is still a mystery. This time, the forbidden kind I want to indulge in, no matter the repercussions.
Born and raised in the coastal city of Durban, South Africa and now living in the City of Gold, Johannesburg, Charlene's days are an energetic mixture of a full time job, a wife and Mom to two beautiful teenagers. She holds a Law Degree and is an avid events manager.
Believing writing is the wings to holistic escapism, she makes the time in her busy schedule giving life to her dreams of bringing together passion filled heroes and heroines in a happily ever after.