Hearts in the Vortex

"Hearts in the Vortex" by Amber Polo
A Sedona Arizona
Paranormal Romance

The Most Unromantic Woman in the World Falls in Love – with Two Men – in One Body

The Most Unromantic Woman in the World Falls in Love – with Two Men – in One Body No-nonsense attorney Rebecca Dumaurier battles for famous romance writers. But in the Sedona vortex romance spins out of control with a shy trance channeler and a pirate from another time..

.An Contemporary Comic Paranormal

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“Romancing Rebecca is a must-read novel that demands a top spot on your summer reading list. .The book is light, breezy and Polo sets a fast pace that never lets up. And those steamy sex scenes? Too funny for words!”
~ Rochelle Brener for VerdeNews.com & Kudos  Verde Valley & Sedona, AZ

“A story with not only solid, easy to relate to characters but a beautiful backdrop. The story takes a mysterious turn with letters from a time gone past … a fantastic job bringing the plot to culmination and making it feel real. You can actually experience the inner struggle within Tom and Rebecca and feel the energy pulling them together. An A+ for Polo.”
~ Manic Readers

“…reincarnation, past and present colliding, some wonderful supporting characters Romancing Rebecca either keeps you in splits or sends a chill down your spine. Perfect harmony and a wonderfully memorable happy ending. This tale sure brings out the importance of romance and the importance of keeping a little bit of naivety and trust in others alive always!!
~ Writers & Readers of Distinctive Fiction


“On Equinox Eve,
Darkness threatens Light;
Summon Moon Power
Upon Red Rock Rise.
Love Triumphs Time!”

That night, as instructed, Rebecca waited on the bench closest to the creek, curious to meet the man with the great voice and beautiful handwriting. Unfortunately, that particular bench was the only one beyond the reach of the hotel security lighting. She felt strange sitting in the dark in her black business suit…

Above the burble of water over river stones, Rebecca heard noises from the hotel kitchen. She turned and in the dim light watched a man approach. She sat straighter and was about to stand to greet him when she recognized the wine steward carrying a tray.

“Miss Dumaurier. A gentleman requested this for you,” he said with a formal bow.

“What gentleman?”

He said, ‘If the lady asks, tell her an admirer.'” The waiter placed a delicate crystal wine glass and linen napkin on the small wooden table next to the bench, announcing, “Champagne, 1988 Krug Clos du Mesnil. Our finest,” then turned and retreated up the path.

Rebecca lifted the wafer-thin tulip glass to her nose and inhaled the distinctive smell of the legendary wine, allowing its bubbles to tickle her nose, and sipped. This was a business meeting, yet she couldn’t deny herself a taste of the most expensive champagne ever imported. “Excellent,” she whispered.

“I am so happy that you like it,” said a deep, very male, voice behind her.

Startled, she began to turn, but the voice she recognized from the phone message said, “No. Rebecca, please stay where you are. For now.”

“Who are you?” she asked, trying to identify that spicy smell.

“Please call me Max.”

“But why can’t I see you? I’m not used to business meetings in the dark.”

He laughed. “Much business is conducted that way. My dear, enjoy your champagne while I tell you my story.”

“This is so weird! I mean … irregular.” For a moment she considered asking Little Rebecca more about this Max, but refused to give in to the bossy voice.

“Perhaps, a little romantic?” His voice, like warm honey, made her heart beat faster. She ignored the heat, which felt a lot like desire. “Your message suggested a copyright dispute.”

“Ah, of course, business first. Well then,” he sighed. “I wrote a, let us say, a book. An unscrupulous editor obtained possession and after cutting, adding, and totally distorting my meaning and intent, published it.”

“Did you have a contract?” Rebecca wished she had brought her laptop or at least a legal pad. All she had was an expensive glass of champagne. “What country?” She was now positive his sexy accent was European.

“United States, and sadly, no ordinary contract. My words were tragically stolen and the copyright applied for without my consent.”

“No release form? Your name is on the book and you have no signed agreement?”

“That is correct.”

“You may have a case. What do you want out of this? Royalties? Do you understand that very few books sell well enough to make legal action worthwhile? Litigation is very expensive and time-consuming.” She carefully repeated what she routinely told all prospective clients.

“I want what is mine.”

“How many copies have been sold?”

“A million, maybe more, counting translations and foreign rights. I am willing to forget about the TV series if they cease all rerunning of films immediately.”

“Mr … Max, only a few authors ever have that kind of success. Who is this author?”

“I am the author. Will you take my case?” the velvety voice asked.

She felt breath warm on the back of her neck. She had to see him. She didn’t think she could prevent herself from turning around one more minute. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Good. The deal is made. I will deliver the documentation to you, soon. Thank you, dear one.”

Rebecca felt a hand, cool and strong, rest on her shoulder. A shiver of excitement ran through her. Unconsciously, she leaned toward him, deepening the touch.

As he released her, he brushed the back of his hand lightly against her neck and cheek. His voice trembled. “Enjoy your champagne, Rebecca, my dear.”

Fine hairs stood away from the back of her neck. Trees rustled in the evening breeze. The creek bubbled past. That spicy sweet smell lingered in the air, but no one stood behind her. On the table beside the wine glass lay a perfect long-stemmed red rose.