It is my pleasure to have a guest post by the talented Cynthia Eden...
Can You Read Me?
by Cynthia Eden
I have a confession to make…I’ve always wanted to be able to
read people. To be able to look at
someone and pick up on all the unconscious “tells” that people give off to
others. I think it would be so much fun
to understand all the secrets that people tried so hard to keep…but still managed
to reveal with the wrong body language.
In my latest novel, Twisted
, my heroine can “read” just
about anyone. She sizes up her prey in
just a glance and can find all the secrets that people would prefer to keep
hidden. While doing my research to
develop Emma Castille’s character, I picked up a lot of tips about how to read
someone’s body language. I thought I’d share a few with you. (You may already
be aware of these “tells” and some could be new.)
, my heroine can “read” just
about anyone. She sizes up her prey in
just a glance and can find all the secrets that people would prefer to keep
hidden. While doing my research to
develop Emma Castille’s character, I picked up a lot of tips about how to read
someone’s body language. I thought I’d share a few with you. (You may already
be aware of these “tells” and some could be new.)
1.
Look for
signs that indicate stress. Some usual “stress” signs include...a person
rubbing his forehead or rubbing his hands against his thighs.
2.
People
will stall…If you ask someone a question and instead of responding,
she…clears her throat, glances away, bites her lip…then odds are good this
person could be thinking of a way to lie…or this person just knows you aren’t
going to like the answer that’s coming!
3.
Protect
me. You know the little notch at the base of your throat? Right there as
you angle down to your chest? If you see a woman touch that notch, she’s trying
to protect herself. Your questions could definitely be putting her on edge.
4.
It’s all
in the eyes…If a person’s pupils constrict, she is probably looking at
something she doesn’t like—something that bothers her. Cops will often show suspects pictures of
their victims just so that they can watch their responses to those images. The
eyes truly can be the window to the soul.
5.
Shoulders,
baby, shoulders. If someone is
frustrated or exasperated—you’ll see the shoulders start to tense up. If someone is relieved—those shoulders will
drop.
Do you have any particular “tells” that reveal your
emotions? Please share them with me!
Thanks so much for checking out my post. Have a great day!
Best,
Cynthia Eden
Blurb
In the second seductive Lost novel from New York Times bestselling author Cynthia Eden, an obsessed Last Option Search Team agent goes looking for trouble—and finds her in the Big Easy.
Dean
Bannon comes to New Orleans for one reason only: to track down a missing
sixteen-year-old girl. That’s before he meets the drop-dead gorgeous con artist
who makes him want to lose his legendary control.
With her
past, Emma Castille doesn’t claim to be psychic. She just notices things other
people don’t. Like the fear in a runaway’s eyes-or the pain in an ex-FBI
agent’s heart. Her chemistry with Dean is blistering, but Emma follows her
passion . . . not someone else’s orders.
Then a
madman breaks into Emma’s home and leaves a twisted message: “You’re next.” Now
Dean refuses to let her out of his sight until he pries every last secret from
her full, sexy lips. And suddenly Emma’s aching to give him everything he
wants.
Excerpt
“A reading …” he said. She almost
shivered. The guy had one of those amazing voices that, once a woman heard it,
she didn’t forget. Deep and rumbly. A voice made for darkness.
And sex.
She’d detected no accent in his voice,
and Emma was very good at recognizing accents. Accents, habits, behavior—she
noticed them all.
Like the way Dean Bannon had a habit of
rubbing his jaw with his index finger and thumb. He did that when he was
thinking. When he was annoyed, she’d noticed that a muscle flexed along the
left-hand side of his jaw. And—
“Your name is Emma Castille.”
She leaned forward. “I can use the cards
if you want. Some people like that part.” She actually did know what all of the
cards meant, so she could shuffle them and give a reading, no problem. But she
preferred to work in other ways.
“You’re not psychic.”
Were they back to that?
She put her hands in her lap. Emma
didn’t believe in making nervous gestures. She didn’t believe in giving away
anything at all with her body language.
“What you are …” Ah, now he did smile. Her father would have called
it a shit-eating grin. The more PC term was probably a Cheshire cat smile.
Whatever the name, that smile annoyed her. “What you are, Ms. Castille … is a
criminal. A fraud.”
Maybe she should grab her chest and
dramatically gasp. She didn’t. “Wonderful for you,” Emma said. “You pulled up a
background report one me.” She let her eyes widen a bit. “It’s amazing just what
one can find if a person knows how to use a search engine.”
A furrow appeared between his eyes.
“How about I say what … you are?” Emma asked him. “A washed-up
FBI agent who snapped on the job. You held your control tight every single day,
but the bad guys—they just didn’t stop, did they? You hunted them, you stopped
them, and more appeared. While you were fighting the system, they kept coming,
and the bodies kept piling up on your watch.”
He shot right back to his feet. The
folding chair slammed down behind him.
“You and your father bilked desperate
people,” he accused. “You told them you were psychic, that you could help find
their missing children. And you—”
“We found them.” Two girls who’d
vanished. They’d found them. “We just
didn’t get to them in time.” And she would not
go back to that place.
She motioned toward Manuel. He knew the
signal meant he could take over her booth. There was no way, no way, that she was going to stay there
with that prick while he slammed the most painful moments from her past in
Emma’s face.
Manuel, pale, tattooed, with piercings
in his lips and eyebrows, quickly claimed her spot.
Emma jumped to her feet. Muttered her
thanks, and fled right past the guy she was starting to think of as Agent
Jackass.
She pushed through the crowd. Wasn’t
there always a crowd in Jackson
Square ? And that was why she loved the place. It
was so easy to vanish in a crowd. To be anyone.
The crowd closed around her.
To
be no one at all.
She hurried around the back of the
cathedral. She knew the streets so well. Her home was close by. Emma would get
inside and forget Agent Jackass.
I’m
being followed.
Emma stilled at the intersection. A
horse-drawn carriage rolled by her. Voices called out.
And he touched her.
Emma didn’t flinch. Didn’t scream. She
looked down at the hand on her shoulder. “When a woman runs away from you, that
means you need to stay the hell away from her.”
His hold tightened on her. “You and I
aren’t done.”
She looked up at his face. Had she
really thought the man was handsome? Annoying, that was all Dean Bannon was.
“I need to find that girl, and you’re
the only lead I have so far.”
“Then you’re not a very good
investigator.”
Ah, that muscle flexed in his jaw.
Lovely.
GoodreadsLink
Goodreads Series Link
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Author Info
Award-winning
author CYNTHIA EDEN writes dark tales of paranormal romance and romantic
suspense. She is a New York Times, USA Today, Digital Book World, and
IndieReader best-seller. Cynthia is also a two-time finalist for the RITA®
award (she was a finalist both in the romantic suspense category and in the
paranormal romance category). Since she began writing full-time in 2005,
Cynthia has written over thirty novels and novellas. Cynthia lives along the
Alabama Gulf Coast. She loves romance novels, horror movies, and chocolate. Her
favorite hobbies include hiking in the mountains (searching for waterfalls) and
spelunking.
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