I’d like to tell you about my new romance, Lapses of Memory, a novel in which two romances intertwine as a mother recounts her life-long love affair while her daughter juggles two lovers.  Sydney Bellek’s love for Elian Davies is reignited each time they meet, but in the long years following each encounter she forgets him. For his part, Elian knows from the age of seven that they are meant for each other, but when she finally understands, he has lost his memory—literally.  Can she make him remember her? Will their new love be enough to replace the old one?

Meanwhile,  her daughter Olivia chronicles the ups and downs of her parents’ romance, making it difficult to concentrate on her own dilemma—how to choose between the rich and dashing Rémy de Beaumec, who wants to take her around the world, and the strong, silent, American-to-the-core, Benjamin Knox, who only wants to make her happy.

As journalists, Sydney and Elian fly a lot. Since in the story they only meet every few years, the date of their meeting on a plane coincided strangely and wonderfully with new aircraft designs coming on line. Research on the development of flight technology led me to learn a couple of interesting facts. First, the early commercial airlines were designed for comfort rather than speed. The Boeing Stratocruiser that Sydney takes when she is five had sleeping berths and a lounge, and meals were served on china plates with fine wines in etched crystal goblets. As with most advances, luxury was soon sacrificed to speed, and by the 1970s we had the SST Concorde, which made the flight from New York to London in three hours. Second, I was blown away by the amazing growth in customers. In the 1950s air travel was limited to a few adventurous souls and planes carried 100 passengers. The total number of passengers went from 17 million in 1950 to an estimated 2.75 billion by 2011. That’s only sixty years!

I hope you enjoy the excerpt. One lucky reader will win a pdf of one of my last four romantic suspense novels—your choice. Be sure to leave your email address in your comment.

Lapses of Memory, by M. S. Spencer

Secret Cravings Publishing (May 10, 2013)

eBook, 70,000 words

Romance, Action/Adventure, M/F, 3 flames
Buy Link: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=595
EXCERPT (PG): The Lady Doesn’t Remember

Several beers later they wobbled out to the lobby holding hands. Sydney had learned enough to know this Elian was a complex person and really, really cute. When they reached her room he backed her against the door. She could feel his penis throbbing through his jeans and took a minute to revel in the desire the friction ignited before pushing him away. He set his arms on either side of her, and regarded her with serious eyes. “You still don’t remember me, do you?”

She shook her head. She didn’t really want to recognize him. Placing him in some other context could only be deflating. She liked him now, a tall, thin, russet-haired man with a pulsing member and inviting mouth, currently blowing a tidal wave of pheromones in her direction.

He continued to stand there, making none of the moves she wished he’d make. Finally she took a step toward him and held out her lips. Leaning in, he took them with his. The link pulled the rest of their bodies together. Arms went around waist and neck, bellies ground against each other, thighs intertwined. Sydney fell into a long, dark, winding tunnel that squeezed her, taking her breath away. She no longer felt corporeal, but more like a soft piece of quivering tissue, the bones dissolving, reduced finally to a pool of liquid heat.

He broke away, panting. “Now do you remember me?”

Her arms empty, she tried blinking to drag herself back to the present. Elian swam into view. His azure eyes shot signals, signals that she couldn’t decipher. What does he want of me? Why can’t we live for the moment? Just be in the here and now? For an instant she thought of lying, but somehow she knew he would see through it, that it would only push him farther away. “I’m sorry.”

He lifted his arms, and dropped them in frustration. He gazed at her, pleading. She couldn’t help him. Bits of him seemed familiar—as though those features belonged to someone else she’d known a long time ago. Other bits, like his deep, gruff voice and his air of insolence, were strange and new. A fleeting sense of abandonment passed through her. Whoever he reminded her of had left her once before. She didn’t want that loneliness again. She turned from him and put the key in the door. He caught her arm. “We’ll meet again, Sydney.”

She tried to match the hope in his voice. “Perhaps we will.” She ran inside and threw herself on the bed. After a good cry and a call for room service, she paced the room, trying to get a grip on her emotions. Something deep in Elian’s eyes drew her. She didn’t recognize his face, but she felt a linkage, a bond with him. An affinity shared, but long ago. She understood him, knew him. A face rose before her, but all jumbled as though she looked at it through a kaleidoscope. Eyes, chin, nose, cheeks, all split up into triangles and rhomboids, making the face as inscrutable as a Picasso painting. She gave up.

Halfway through the chicken cordon bleu she stopped, fork stalled two inches from her mouth. Why does he care whether I recognize him? What is this rapport I sense? Is there some deep, dark secret I should know? Oh my God, is he my long lost brother?

Biography
Although I’ve lived or traveled in every continent except Antarctica and Australia (bucket list), the last 30 years have been spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. I’m about to heave the entire ho to Florida, leaving behind the cherry blossoms, the monuments, and the political hacks.

Contacts:

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Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/M.S.-Spencer/e/B002ZOEUC8/

GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer