Showing posts with label Contemporary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Contemporary. Show all posts

Friday, May 20, 2016

Don't Apologize for Calling a Spade a Spade

“What do you mean? This is good info.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t.  It’s about how it was acquired.” He paused pacing, and stared aimlessly at the back wall. “Unless a person who would have this information legally claims to have given it to you.” He threw up his arms dramatically.  “It can’t be used.”
“In a court of law,” she finished as she dropped her ever-tiring head into her hands.  Abandoning that she popped her head up causing her hair to cascade over her head, and resettle disheveled. “So all this really did was put me on the chopping block.”
Thomas made an odd negative sound that was between a growl, and a hum as he started pacing again.  “Not necessarily; it gives us more than we had before.”
Not seeing the bright side like he was Charlotte hissed, “That being?”
Her sharp tone made him stop pacing, and turn to look at her as an odd expression briefly crossed his normally passive features. “A path.  We can figure out what he is doing, and how he’s been doing it.” Thomas nodded to himself. “I can use it to make him incriminate himself.”
He then looked at her for only the second time since he had determined that she needed to relocate.  The hard lines of his face softened slightly.  The difference was almost undetectable.  Most people probably wouldn’t notice, but Charlotte had.  It made his lips soften, and the crinkles around his eyes lessen.
“You need to sleep.” The statement was more of an order than an observation. 
Thomas walked back to the SUV, and pulled out her gym bag.  With a head gesture he inferred that she should follow him.  Feeling like she was just tired enough not to argue, Charlotte lifted herself from the chair, and fell into pace behind him as he began clearing the space to the staircase.  They went upstairs, and he opened the door of the first room.  Charlotte followed him, and it was like she was at the Hyatt all of the sudden.
The room was like a hotel room.  The furniture was wooden and in solid colors.  Not great, but not bad.  It was mostly sterile, and looked like a man had picked out everything.  There were no knick-knacks, just basics.  An ugly pasty green couch, a matching chair, and some dull wooden end tables were the highlights of the decor.  In the corner was a kitchenette with a full sized fridge, stove, dishwasher, and microwave.  The sink was a single basin with a washrag, and dish soap nearby.  The second door in the room lead to a bedroom that housed a king-sized bed covered in a hideous beige comforter, and some more of the dull wooden end tables the living area sported.
“Bathroom is connected to the bedroom,” Thomas said as he threw her gym bag on the bed, and started for the door.
Charlotte stared at the room, and grabbed the arm of the brooding man as he passed her.  She almost hissed at the warmth of him through her fingertips.  The feeling was short lived as he stopped, and removed her hand from his arm by grasping her wrist.  The action made her snap her eyes to his, and they held for a moment neither of them blinking for the space of two breathes.
“You’re safe here Charlie.”
“Tommy—,” she stammered not really believing that she had addressed him so familiarly.  It had to be her exhaustion because he had not done anything that would make her assume such an air with him.  The look that danced in his eyes for a moment could’ve been shock or anger.  She wasn’t sure, but she was sure that she had crossed some invisible line with the name that had fell from her lips.
 “Thomas,” she quickly corrected looking up at him.  “I didn’t mean— on the phone—”
He whipped her body into his, and ducked his head to seal his mouth to hers.  Charlotte felt the burn of his lips against hers.  The abrupt entry of his tongue pushing between her teeth made her stiffen, then practically melt against him.  Her wrists were captured behind her back by one of his larger hands.  The other hand had taken possession of her left butt cheek pulling her against his body.  She moaned in a haze of adrenaline, pleasure, and fear as she kissed him back with just as much ferocity as he was kissing her with.  His hips were grinding into hers.  She could feel the length of his erection between them.  With that knowledge her knees nearly buckled.  What she wouldn’t give to get her hands on him.
What had started as rough tongue stabbing was dissipating.  The forays he took between her lips were becoming more leisurely as he explored her mouth with long slow licks that drug his tongue over all of the surfaces of hers.  He would pull away slightly, and then decide that he wasn’t done, and take her mouth again.  This happened a few more times before he pulled back, and slowly licked his lips.  Panting they held there breathing each other’s air.  He let his eyes roam over her face.  She watched as they settled on her lips then flew back to her eyes.

“Don’t apologize for calling a spade a spade,” his deep voice was rough, and his accent was dominating his pronunciation.
An excerpt from Charlotte's Chance on AmazonBarnes & Noble and Smashwords

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

And Now the Running

Sandra had a corner apartment on the third floor.  They were the only units in the building that offered the large obnoxious roman bathtubs.  The only draw back, if you saw it that way, was that they were at the end of the living group for the hallway.  The closest thing to her door was the fire escape across the hall. It was open, and Sandra loved to climb it instead of taking the elevator or the interior stairs.  In her heart of hearts Sandra was really a recluse, and this suited her.
While musing over the oddities that comprised her best friend, Charlotte had locked the door, and had that feeling. As soon as she had turned the bolt, the sudden creepy crawly feeling of being watched covered her.  It had been in a split second, but her mind had yelled RUN!!  She hadn’t thought about it, she had just reacted.  She had run to the elevator of the long hall way as the door was closing.  Then she bolted for the stairwell at the end of the hall.  Charlotte hadn’t heard the footsteps, but she had felt the eyes.
Don’t look back.’  She heard her brother in her head yelling at her.  The self-defense pointers he had given her starting to play in her mind. 
Focus on what is in front of you.  Will yourself to that place.’  She flew through the doorway to the stairwell. 
If you get a chance, hide, don’t try and outrun them.’
She turned the stairwell, and went up instead of down.  The stairwell was a myriad of walled half flights, carpeted, and quiet.  She crouched on the other side of the wall facing the steps leading to the next level hoping her pursuer didn’t realize that she was there.  Charlotte pressed her back to the wall of the stairwell flattening her palms near her hips.  She balanced on the balls of her feet ready to spring because of the low heels on her black boots.  Her breath was coming out loudly almost panting. The air-conditioned area was musty like carpet that had been left wet.  There was a single oval recessed light on each landing right above the open space before you stepped through the door.
The creaking of the door on the landing beneath her as it flew open made her stop breathing.  Charlotte swallowed her gasp. Her heart was beating so loudly it could probably be heard from the street. She flexed her hands against the wall willing herself not to move. Even as the slight sound of padded footsteps receding reached her she waited before she let out the breath she had been holding.
Be patient. Don’t make a mistake now. You’re almost there.’
Charlotte slowly moved away from the wall, and made her way back down to the landing she had come from.  She walked slowly, fearful that her pursuer would get wise, and come bolting back up the stairs at any moment. When she reached the hallway she stood nervously in front of the elevator knowing that she couldn’t go down it alone.  She paced a few moments as a crowd of young adults made their way to the elevator.  A few of the ladies had hair like hers.
Don’t shy away from people.  Other people are your best cover if someone is looking for you to be alone.
She boarded the elevator with them.  They reached the garage under the building where she had parked her F-150.  Because of her brother’s diligent teachings, she always parked very close to elevators, and always under highly lit areas.  Charlotte streaked for her F-150, and got in locking the doors, and starting the truck in the same motion.  The creepy feeling returned, and for a split second she stared into the black eyes of a tall stocky man with a greasy look and feel to him.  His face snarled as she hit reverse, shifted to drive, and burned rubber pealing out of the parking lot.
It had all happened so quickly.  She had come home locked all her doors, closed all her blinds, and battled herself into not calling the police.  What would she say?  I think this guy was following me.  Oh yeah because my best friend and me have gotten ourselves into some serious trouble with a local oil baron.  And did I mention the CIA agent that kidnapped her off to Japan.

She had finally convinced herself that she would’ve sounded nuts.  At that time she most likely would have.  After all who was to say the guy didn’t need change or something.  Maybe he was a bill collector she had missed and was trying to find Sandra.  Charlotte had spent the night concocting an array of amusing, interesting antidotes that would explain what had happened at Sandra’s apartment.  Then it had happened again.

An excerpt from Charlotte's Chance on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords

Monday, May 16, 2016

Thicker Than Blood an excerpt from Charlotte's Chance

Charlotte started going into detail about doing Brenda’s house, which she had finished a week ago.  Badly.  It had been her worst work yet.  That had a lot more to do with her being a frazzled wreck than anything else.  It had all seemed like such a good idea taking care of Sandra’s things, looking in on her apartment, and seeing to Penelope at the kennel.  She had accessed her accounts, and opened online bill pay funneling the money directly from her account to her creditors.  She had needed to move several thousands from her savings to her checking.  But the woman had an almost trust fund balance in her savings from royalties from her grandfather’s shipping empire.   It hadn’t even put a dent in things.  Charlotte had gone by her apartment and watered her plants a week and a half ago, and that’s when things had started getting interesting.

Charlotte had left Brenda’s feeling pretty good about the way the room was going.  She had made a brief stop by Penelope’s kennel, which had been on the way, to pay the bill.  Sandra had given her an emergency ATM card years ago just in case.  Charlotte had locked it in the safe in the house. 

Sandra had the safe installed when she had first purchased the house eight years ago while she had been studying for her doctorate in Oklahoma.  According to Sandra Oklahoma City was dead on the weekends.  So she would travel to Dallas every Friday afternoon to stay for the weekend, and then head back to Oklahoma on Mondays.  Being tired of hotels she had spent her savings on a house in Richardson.  A few years after she had returned to Dallas by way of Scotland she had been ready to get rid of the house.

Only pure coincidence could explain just why Charlotte had been in the market for a house.  Her business had started going so well after she had met Brenda who would recommend her for all of the high money projects that she had worked on.  So it was time for Charlotte to get out of the one bedroom apartment in North Dallas, and put money into property.

Charlotte and Sandra had been casual friends from their initial meeting in the nightclub.  On weekends they would get together and talk about their pet project W.A.R.M. Soon Charlotte had brought in Brenda, and then Sandra had introduced them to Deborah and Rachel.  Suddenly Sandra had been selling her house, and their friendship had taken on a new dynamic.

It had been a funny scene because Sandra had put the house on the market. Charlotte had seen the ad, and called it up.  When she had met up with Charlotte, and not some stranger wanting to buy her house, Sandra had smiled and said she knew a sign when she saw one.  If Charlotte wanted the house it was hers.  Sandra had brokered the thing herself so that closing costs and realtor commissions wouldn’t make the house beyond Charlotte’s reach. 

This had led to she and Charlotte becoming even closer as Sandra helped Charlotte fulfill a dream she had since she had been small; having her own home.  They had been like sisters since.  Being an only child, Sandra had fancied the idea of having a younger sister, and always treated Charlotte like that.  She would tell Charlotte things first, secrets about herself, and what was happening in her life.  Asking her opinion on matters, something that the outwardly self-confident doctor didn’t like to admit needing help with.  At those times she could look at Sandra, and know that this woman would do anything for her without a second thought.

It was those kinds of things that had made Charlotte uncommonly loyal to Sandra.  As Charlotte knew first hand, sometimes your own family didn’t care about your happiness as much as they cared about their own personal gain. She loved all of her family dearly, but she could count on one hand the members of her family that would’ve moved heaven and earth to make her dreams come true; the ones who already had which were her mother, brother, and grandmother. The three of them together by begging, borrowing, and pleading had made sure that Charlotte had gotten through school at the Savannah School of Art and Design.

Her grandmother wasn’t a wealthy woman.  She and the late Dougal McConnell had come to America from Scotland with nothing but three shirts, two pairs of pants, a couple of dresses, and a few family heirlooms.  So the family had never had anything but a strong work ethic, and a desire to earn their keep.  Her mother and brother had individual trusts put in place by his father, her first husband Jonathan Clangston.  They weren’t plentiful, but they made it possible for her mother to retire two years ago, and for her brother to carry on his international affairs without much fuss.  Everyone had lived a little less than comfortable when they had decided together that Charlotte’s career goals were worthwhile; her mother even more so with the added burden of providing care for her elderly diabetic mother.

Her mother’s two sisters loved her, but they had children of their own.  Bernice and Carolyn were older than Anna Marie, and they balanced husbands, children, grandchildren, and helped Anna Marie care for their mother: children, and grandchildren that Charlotte only saw every few years at family reunions.  She always felt bad about the fact that she wouldn’t even recognize the whole lot of them if they met up somewhere, and she was quite sure that it was the same for them with her.

Her father’s family was a joke.  Just a clan of Irish and Welsh that found it nigh near impossible to conduct themselves within the confines of the law.  Even worse they would steal the shirt off of the back of a blood relative without batting an eyelash.  It seems that they had been in America for centuries robbing and cheating their way through life.  So bad that even the Irish mobs wouldn’t have them.  They had no honor at all. 


That aspect of Charlotte’s blood made her very aware of loyalty, and the importance of keeping your word no matter what.  It was one of her grandmother’s rules. Only on penalty of death should someone be forsworn, and Charlotte believed in that.  She had promised Sandra when she had helped her get her house that if there were ever a time that she should need help she would not need to look any further. 


Available on AmazonBarnes&Noble, and Goodreads

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Welcome to W.A.R.M. from Sandra's Social

“Second topic on the agenda.”  Sandra interrupted.  “I was offered a very interesting proposition today, and I wanted the board to vote on it.”
The ladies gave Sandra their undivided attention.
“I had an interview with the local news network today, and they showed interest in me having my own segment.”
“What would you talk about?”  Brenda squawked.
“That is the appealing aspect, whatever I want.”
A collective hum went up as the ladies digested that information.
“Whatever doesn’t always mean whatever.”  Rachel began, “They may want you to maintain a certain degree of political correctness”.
“That’s what I figured too so I made a clause that says that they get to review my discussions, but not edit them at all.  The station is hoping that it will become some kind of syndicated broadcast that the station gets the rights for of course.”
“Of course,” mocked Charlotte.
“So they want you to be like that quack Dr. Phil,” Deborah muttered under her breath.
“I’m nothing like Dr. Phil,” Sandra started indignantly. “I’m much shorter.”
“Will this show end up being a soapbox for W.A.R.M.?”  Brenda inquired showing her seldom seen serious side.
“I don’t know how much of one it can be.  I would have to branch out to other topics. Although I was thinking that my first guest could be a certain W.A.R.M. board member. Someone who has had their finger on the pulse of this movement; someone who has been there since day one.” Slowly the women started to look at Charlotte who was sitting quietly typing.  Then suddenly she popped her head up sending blonde hair flying then cascading softly to rest in slight disarray as she stared at Sandra in growing comprehension and horror.
“No way, I’m horrible at things like that.”
“It would be a good time to get over your performance anxiety.”  Deborah shrugged.
“No, I suck at public speaking.”  She looked to her left. “What about Brenda?”
“Not me love, being affiliated with a rogue social movement would most definitely put me out of the running for the new Collin County Arts Center project.  Any other time I’d love to, but I have to stay uncontroversial for another month or so.”
“Deborah,” Charlotte sang hopefully.
“I’m a hired county official that gets W.A.R.M. information from other county officials.  The fallout would be immense.”
Getting desperate. “Rachel, please.”
“No can do, I’m leaving tomorrow for an 18 month tour with Aerosmith.”
“It’s not like you perform, they could get someone else to do their tech.”
“Besides the fact that it’s always the best money I’ve ever made, they asked for me and my crew personally. I’d hate to let Steven and the boys down.”
Sandra elbowed her friend. “That just leaves you Charlotte.”
Charlotte stomped her feet in protest. “There has to be another way.”
The meeting room door opened, and a pretty brunette took a couple of steps in, and then stopped. “Dr. Dalianas.  Hi I don’t know if you remember me.”
“Michelle, of course I remember you.”  Sandra jumped up and shook her hand.  “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Was I interrupting?”
Charlotte smiled devilishly at her. “Not at all, hi I’m Charlotte Rhoades, vice-president and secretary.” She put her hand out to shake.
Rachel stood. “Rachel Adams, operations and field management.”
Brenda smiled wide. “Brenda Margiani, treasurer, legal and basic training.”
“Dr. Deborah McKilligan, parliamentarian, case follow-up, and board counseling.”
Sandra laughed. “Since we’re being formal, Dr. Sandra Dalianas, president, founder, advanced trainer, and head recruiter of Women Assisting the Reclamation of Man.  Welcome to W.A.R.M.”



Available on AmazonBarnes & Noble and Goodreads

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

The Women of W.A.R.M.

Charlotte got up from her seat, and moved towards the window of the meeting room they were in.  Sandra had to give it to Charlotte.  She was looking absolutely stunning these days.  When she had met Charlotte she had been a healthy size 16.  Her 5’ 8” stature made most of it look really good, but you could tell she was unhappy with herself, and her appearance.  The blonde had gone from buxom to downright tempting in the next 3 years.  She was now a modest size 7, very happy there, and had kept to that size for the past year.  She had always been pretty with her big blue-green eyes and her wide expressive mouth, but she was alluring now.  Her cheekbones were defined and her nose was slimmer.  She had cut her hair to a long in front bob that showcased her long neck and ultra-feminine shoulders.  It also showcased a head of hair that went from light brown to golden blonde in a natural process that women paid hundreds of dollars for.
Charlotte had a women’s build.  She had become lean with modest sized breasts. She was slim, but not too so skinny you wanted to feed her constantly.  Her waist, shapely hips, and derriere made those low-rise jeans look fantastic on her.  Sandra had started feeling unattractive around her, and that made her feel shallow, and a slave to the very nature that she was trying to eliminate.  Sandra was exotic, but Charlotte was classic.  And unless you liked your women with big boobs, an abnormally narrow waist, giant hips, giant ass, and those oh so sexy linebacker shoulders, you probably wouldn’t want Sandra.
“Hello ladies.”  Brenda blew into the room in her usual fashion.  First the smell of Liz Taylor’s Black Diamonds, and then a whiff of Vanilla from her over coiffed naturally straight blue-black hair that was piled on top of her head.  She had a designer hairspray that smelled of Vanilla.  Her Gucci clutch landed on the table near Sandra as she took a prim seat in the chair next to her. A red plaid Liz Arden suit with gold toggles matching her black & gold Christian Dior pumps adorned her figure.
Brenda was not an attractive lady in the conventional sense.  She was average height, 5’ 6”.  Not too much leg; not too much torso; not too meaty; not too slender, and a real primo nice set of breasts though.  In her own words, ‘you don’t often see real ones this perky’.  Her intense ice blue eyes startled you in their paleness.  To maximize this affect she usually kept them fringed in heavy mascara and thick black eyeliner. Facial features that met you were sharp and blunt all at the same time, swimming heavily in her Italian ancestry, and merely wading in her Welsh.  The combination as a whole was stark and startling.  The oddity of her features was entrancing, and in the oddest way quite lovely. Add that with her healthy amounts of confidence, and the way she exuded power.  She held great beauty.
Brenda was a self-made woman.  She had graduated as an architect 12 years ago, and had instantly scored the biggest business venture ever.  It had taken sixteen months, but she had successfully designed and copyrighted the infamous bank building in Downtown Dallas that featured a most interesting architectural design that resembled a keyhole at the top of the building.  One of her graduation projects had been the interior of the city’s best symphony hall.  By studying the configuration of wind instruments she had figured out a way to stack the walls that caused sound to vibrate and bounce at a higher magnitude than most other symphonic halls.  Of course the architect she understudied for took all the credit.  He claimed who was better qualified to make such a discovery, him or his assistant, who was also a woman. Guess whom the board sided with.  Being completely miffed by this Brenda had reworked the layouts so that he ended up stacking the walls wrong leaving her to have to go in behind him and fix them.  This proved once and for all who had really been the mastermind behind the center’s design which was what actually scored her an arts center job.  From that day forward Brenda had resolved to stand behind no one.  Her projects would be her own, and the construction companies would deal with her and her alone.
Charlotte had been responsible for Brenda being in their lives.  Four years ago Charlotte had put her BA in interior design to good use and founded Not Just Ceilings and Walls. The company had designed the interior of Brenda’s first independent project, a restaurant in North Dallas called Avanti.  They had met and hit it off prompting Charlotte to tell her about W.A.R.M.  Brenda was instantly on board being sick of the male influence in her day-to-day life thanks to her career.  So Brenda got to soon add being an active member of W.A.R.M to her hobbies of being a clotheshorse, and a social butterfly.
“How are those red Prada sling backs I gave you?”  Brenda’s ice blue eyes lit up as she leaned over to pat Sandra’s hand.
“They are as wonderful as you said.”
“Worth the $350?”
“Every penny.”
Looking every bit like Jackie O in her prime, Brenda clucked as she started digging through her Gucci clutch. “I swear they are sexy. It’s a shame I could only wear them twice.”
Charlotte looked at Brenda questioningly, as usual confused by the woman’s sensibilities.  “Why only twice?”
“The dress that went with them, I wore it to the President’s Arts Gala last fall and to the TCU alumni anniversary dinner this past spring.  I was photographed at both occasions.  Anyone paying attention would notice.”  She put a dramatic hand to her forehead. “It would be so embarrassing; it’s not like I’m a pauper after all.”
Both Sandra and Charlotte simply looked blinkingly at Brenda.
Completely oblivious, Brenda huffed and continued.  “Speaking of galas, I’m hosting a fundraiser at the house in Willow Bend. Charlotte would you be my hero and update my living and dining rooms. Last time is still great, but—”
Charlotte interrupted, “I know, you wouldn’t want them to see it twice.  I’ll send Megan over in the morning, and I’ll look over her notes, and get back to you by Friday.”
“You are an angel.”  Brenda smiled as she refreshed her lipstick.
“You just don’t forget to mention my design company when those high society rags come through.” She smiled indulgently at Brenda.  She didn’t always understand the woman, but she really enjoyed her nonetheless.
Brenda gave her a brilliant smile. “Never darling,” she said in a droll self-mocking tone.
The door to the meeting room flew open and two women stood there, one glaring one laughing.  On the left, the glaring redhead turned flashing green eyes to Sandra, and then back to her companion.  The redhead’s normally pale skin tone was emitting tones of red in her fury.  She was dressed super business casual, as was her style; a basic white scoop neckline short sleeve top, and tan wide-legged slacks with no fuss no muss light tan flat sandals.  Deborah was the anti-Brenda if ever there were one.  She kept her outfits simple, and easy to maintain which was interesting since she was without doubt the one out of the group with the looks.  Her heart-shaped face, larger than life green eyes, her sharp pert nose, and pouty lips were a perfect picture framed by fire red hair that was laced with golden red strands and auburn highlights; all natural by the by.  She was definitely gorgeous in the drop-dead sense.  She kept her body fit and toned and stood about 5’ 2”, which most men found absolutely adorable.  Made her easy to physically manipulate Sandra had once jokingly explained to the group to get the little redhead’s ire up.
But the laughing lady to the right, Rachel, did something that Deborah’s beauty couldn’t.  She emitted sex. It was always unintentional, but potent, like Brenda’s “Black Diamonds” perfume.  It poured off of her when she walked into a room.  Her chocolate skin tone looked creamy, and her shoulder length curly ash brown hair whispered how soft it was. Dark brown eyes were always warm with invitation.  She stood a little intimidating at 5’ 9”, but it was fetching.  When she wasn’t on a job, RJ always wore long things, like the simple sleeveless turtle-necked black dress she was wearing that nearly touched the floor beneath her black strappy sandals.  Outfits like that showed off her long legs and smooth curves that practically beckoned for a man’s touch. Top this package off with an exquisite face. Not the pure beauty that Deborah was, but a more flamboyant look.  Her features were broad; her eyes, lips, her nose, and it made you stare without realizing that you were.  Right now those broad features were alight with mischief and humor.
“I can’t believe you did that,” exclaimed Deborah looking sidelong at Rachel.  “What is wrong with you?”
Sandra, welcoming the break from the drama that is Brenda, looked to Deborah and asked, “Did what?”
Deborah started shaking her head, her long red hair dusting her shoulders lightly as it continued down her back. Unforgiving, she pointed at Rachel who was looking unusually contrite.  Rachel’s eyes were downcast, and she continued to hiccup, which meant that she had been laughing very hard.  The ebony beauty raised her dark brown eyes to look at the room, and then turned to run out.
Charlotte rolled her eyes at the duo. “Well Debbie, what did she do?”
“She was being a bully is what.” She formed her face in a perfect pout as she glanced behind her to see Rachel bent over double laughing on the other side of the door.
“Do you remember her mark?” She finally started as she moved over to the other side of the conference table.
Everyone internally sighed as she began.  Deborah was one of those out-of-control redheads that you would find yelling bloody murder at a waiter who spilled coffee in front of her, not to mention how she would act had it been on her.  It took very little to get her angry, and she always held people responsible for their actions.  There were no mistakes for Debbie; there were just people who didn’t own up to their mistakes.  She was necessary for what they were trying to do, because she was like their blind lady of justice. Whenever there was a question of right and wrong she always knew where to look, and what questions to ask.  Deborah was a criminal psychiatrist who took her work into all aspects of her life.
Sandra had met Deborah while she had been consulting on a juvenile delinquency case three and a half years ago.  The case had involved a 13-year-old girl who had been caught prostituting.  Her mother had been a heroin addict who allowed her scummy boyfriend to pimp out her daughter for drug money.  Deborah had intentionally sought her out knowing that if anyone could help her get the 13–year-old exonerated, and away from her addicted mother, and most importantly her mother’s pimp boyfriend, it would be Sandra.  Whose reputation with the Dallas County DA’s office had become legend due to her key testimony in another trial involving child pornography. Most legal factions considered her a key expert in the subject because of her studies in gender sociology.
Debbie dropped her giant hemp purse in front of her on the table, and sat unabashedly down with her legs slightly ajar and arms on top of the table.  “Well miss audiovisual here decided that it wasn’t enough to teach him a normal lesson.”  She glared at Rachel as she began to make her way into the room.  “Instead he got a paranormal one.”
“A what?!”  Brenda as usual, cracked first.
“I can’t speak her techie mumbo-jumbo, so she’ll have to tell you.”
“He was a hard case.”  RJ giggled as she sat next to Charlotte.  “He wasn’t going to be broken with just a routine operation.”  She glanced deviously at the room as she folded her arms across her chest.  “So I stepped it up a notch.”
“Could we be sued?”  Sandra asked in all seriousness.
Rachel shook her head. “He’d be much too embarrassed to tell anyone, not even his therapist. Besides you can’t file charges against a person beyond this place.”
Charlotte’s eyes lit up completely intrigued. “Now you have to tell us what you did.”
Rachel made a smug face. “It was pretty simple really.  It turns out that Brian has a phobia about ghosts and such.  His mom would tell him these heinous stories when he was young to make him behave. Anyway, after our date a few nights ago I set-up some very convincing, not visible equipment to recreate his worst nightmare.  Last night he asked for sex, and I asked him for a commitment.  He refused so I set plan ‘nocturnal visitor’ into effect.”
Sandra felt her forehead crease. There was always one super dramatic ultra militant one in every group, and Rachel was definitely theirs.  Sandra didn’t blame her though.  When she had met Rachel she had been afraid to leave her house. The beauty had been mugged and raped 2 weeks prior to running into Sandra at a local grocery store 2 years ago.  She had visibly flinched when the male stocker had moved towards her to grab a box near her cart, thus dropping the can of ravioli she had in her hand.  Sandra had been in the same aisle for you guessed it, disgusting canned ravioli.  Sandra had picked up the can joking about how your body knew that this stuff was awful for it. Expecting a laugh at both their expense, Sandra saw the most painful look of horror she had ever seen.  So she had followed by asking her if she was okay, and the poor lady had immediately burst into tears.  The teachings of Ayita Sittingbull-Dalianas had taken over instantly. Sandra couldn’t keep to herself or mind her own business at that point.  She had been raised better than that.  Without a by your leave, she had bundled Rachel up, and got her out of there.

During that time Sandra had a house in the middle of Richardson.  She had gotten rid of it, and settled for a small one bedroom apartment because of how lonely the modest sized house had made her feel. The house in Richardson was where Sandra had shuffled Rachel off to.  The frightened woman had fought her every step of the way.  Finally she got her settled in the guest room with a large cup of tea and a very good book talking about how to cope with rape.  Rachel didn’t come out for 3 days.  Sandra had left her be, and left food and water outside of the door for whenever she was ready. She and Sandra had been close ever since.

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Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Charlotte's Chance Teaser

Charlotte left her office locking the front door with her purse held high on her shoulder.  She made it to the elevator, and frowned as the door opened just as she was about to press the down button.  The blonde haired wiry man inside didn’t move immediately, but the look he leveled at her from his narrow blue eyes said volumes to what he intended if she boarded.  Charlotte took two steps back, and the man bolted from the back of the elevator.  She turned, and ran for the stairwell. 

He was right behind her having cleared the elevator successfully. Almost in surround sound she could hear the heavy fall of his feet behind her.  No matter how much she wanted to, she didn’t look back as she burst through the door into the stairwell.  The stairwell was stark white, and went down in a circular motion almost.  You could look over the edge of the handrails, and see the three floors below.

Charlotte knew that she couldn’t just flat out run the man so she threw her weight against the door she had just burst through. She heard the man’s bellow of pain from getting his arm hinged in the door.  Frantically Charlotte dug through her purse for her keys as the door started to push her into the corner behind it.  She pulled the pepper spray, and guessed where to aim.  Sticking her arm around the door she sprayed in circles hoping that it was somewhere near the asshole’s eyes.

The pressure on the door eased, and she heard the cursing, and yelling indicating that she had guessed right.  Rushing past the man wiping his eyes at the door she started flying down the stairs as fast as she could using the handrails for leverage as she hopped the corners.   Just like she used to do when she was younger, and trying to outrun her older, longer legged brother.  She almost tripped over her own two feet in her haste to get away.  Behind her were the solid thuds of his feet hitting the steps a beat or two after her.

She reached the first floor, and was about to head out to get help from Harold.  But the door flew open as she jumped the last two steps to the landing.  Thomas in his ball cap, and oversized clothes filled the space shoving her forcefully into the corner of the space behind him, and closing the doorway in the same motion.  Charlotte watched in dazed car wreck fashion as Thomas used the man’s flight to run him into the closed door.  His now limp body fell with a crash to the ground.   Thomas flipped out his cell phone, dialed a number, and then put it on the ground.  In a practiced gesture he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, fell to one knee, and cuffed the man lying on the ground before them in seconds.  Then his golden eyes lanced Charlotte’s from beneath the brim of his plain brown low worn hat.

In the next moment he leaned over to her, and wrapped an arm around her waist as one large hand pushed against the wall behind her.  He stood up smoothly pulling her to her feet, and out of the corner. The action brought her body nearly flush with his.  Her nostrils flared filling with the scents that comprised him at that moment.  A heady musky masculine smell mixed with the scents of the air, and grass outside.  It pulled her in, this strange mix of man, rain, and freshly cut grass.

“Are you alright?”  His silky voice poured over her huskily as he slid his other arm around her waist.  
His fingertips were just a hair’s breath away from her bare skin as they ruched the turtleneck sweater that she hadn’t bothered to tuck back in up a little.

The bulky heels of her boots gave her enough height that the top of her head was level with his eyes.  

She nodded, tilting her head up so her eyes couldn’t leave his.  Her arms were pressed between their bodies putting her elbows in her gut, and crowding her hands under her chin. The most natural thing in the world to do was flatten her palms against the warmth and solid comfort of his chest.  The second she placed her hands on him though, he pushed her away.

“Don’t say anything to the guard. Go home. I’ll meet you there.” He said urgently his eyes searching her face as he pushed her beyond the circle of his arms.  Oddly he pushed a wisp of her hair out of her eyes then shoved her out of the stairwell door.

Charlotte tried to carry on like she hadn’t just run down four flights of stairs from a mad man that was trying to do God knows what to her.  She passed by Harold, and stopped, coming back.  He would think it was odd if she didn’t speak to him.

“I hope that the call I sent up did you some good Miss Charlotte.”

A bubble of nervous laughter pealed from Charlotte. “Yes it did. Thank you so much for that.”

The weathered mustached man nodded satisfied. “Glad to help. You have a good one.”

She started away not really sure she was actually pulling this off.  “You too Harold. I’m on vacation so I won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”

The weathered face broke into a grin that made him look ten years younger. “Have a great time Miss Charlotte. Hard working woman like you; it’s good to get away every once in a while.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” she muttered as she passively watched two men in suits enter the stairwell. 

After a few moments her eyes briefly connected with the intense golden gaze of Thomas Glendel. Smoothly he walked away from the stairwell, and out of the lobby door with the ease of air, and without one hint of wasted effort or motion.  Oddly it made her recall the way he had handled Deborah in the hospital.  Then Charlotte had likened him to a jaguar, all sinew, and tightly corded muscle. 

In the stairwell he had lifted her almost deadweight from the floor with an ease that attested to the power he held in that tightly coiled frame.  Then add the fact that he himself hadn’t even been stabilized when he’d done it.  He had pushed her away like they were strangers, and nearly in the same instant pushed that strand of hair from her eyes as if they had known each other forever.  What an odd and interesting man.  The thought was repeated from when he had walked her back from the hospital parking lot with Sandra’s luggage.

“Bye Harold.” Charlotte turned, and followed the oddity out.


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Thursday, April 30, 2015

Sandra's Social Teaser

She was jolted by the realization that they were pulling into his garage, and next to Brenda’s Lexus. Sandra started then sat knowing that he would be offended if she didn’t let him get her door. She chastised herself for caring whether or not he was offended. That was all the time he needed to open her door for her. Silently they started for the elevator which from this point of view provided so much more space than the car had. He either had nothing to say to her or was waiting for her to start the conversation up again. Well he was gonna wait cause she was not starting anything. She had made it clear that his comment had made her very uncomfortable. He should’ve apologized by now. Obviously his manners weren’t as good as she had thought.

The elevator door opened, and he unlocked his door stepping aside for her. Sandra practically ran in, and like a tornado she went to his bedroom to grab her dress, then back out to grab the pumps by the green sofa, her jewelry on the coffee table, and her clutch hanging on the coat rack. She smiled coldly to herself as she realized she wouldn’t have been able to pay for the meal had he let her have her stand. That led her to wonder if he had been aware of that, and was merely saving face for her. No man that would openly question a woman’s self-respect would care about face. Not hers at least. Sandra looked at herself still dressed in his clothes, and decided she’d have to return them, but at a later date when she wasn’t so unsettled by him. Politely he waited at the door as she did this, and together they stepped back into the elevator.

“There’s no need –”, she started without looking at him.

“Nonsense, you were a guest in my home. That’s all the reason needed.”

The elevator stopped, and they stepped off. She pulled her keys out of her clutch, and he snatched them from her to use the automatic locker to unlock the doors. Opening the door he grabbed what she had in her hands, and threw them in. Then closed the door, and closed in on her until her back pressed against the Lexus. Slowly and deliberately giving her plenty of time to move away his face closed in on hers. The closer he got the faster her heart pounded. Slap him if he kisses you, she screamed to herself. Slap him. . . .Low-lidded dark blue eyes held hers, and she was quite literally caught in them. Slap . . .he had to understand what a weapon they were towards the opposite sex. His scent almost like sandalwood and musk scattered her thoughts completely.

The first touch of his lips against hers was feather soft. Just a brush it seemed to test the waters. Sandra was quite frozen at the moment. Her heart stopped, and then raced. What was I supposed to do if he kissed me, she wondered vaguely. Softly he pressed harder waiting for her to bolt. No other part of his body touched hers just his lips, and his eyes. It was the single most erotic kiss she had ever had. She could see his pupils dilate until his eyes were just a thin ring of blue around them. Nothing disturbed this moment not even breath as his mouth slowly opened over her, and his tongue lightly touched the seam of her lips. His eyes still focused on hers. Tentatively he prodded her lips, and she parted them slightly. Just enough for him to lightly dip his tongue inside of her mouth. The gasp she made when she finally made herself breathe opened her mouth completely, and his breath hitched as they held for a moment open-mouthed. After a small groan his eyes slid closed, and he took full advantage by sealing his mouth to hers.

Available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Goodreads

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Make Mine a Heel Teaser

Banner sat straight up out of a dead sleep for no reason what so ever. She had her notepad and pen in hand; nothing new for her. Distractedly she dropped the pen and notepad, and reached into her purse to check her phone to set her alarm. 2:22 AM in the morning. She yawned, and got up to head to the bathroom. On the way back she heard noise coming from the viewing room. Not really thinking it through Banner headed for the door. At the door she heard the sound of muffled chatter. Confused she pushed the door open, and stepped into the room.

Keith was standing there pacing in front of the television. He was barefoot, and wearing a white wife beater with a pair of solid dark lounge pants. Staring blankly at the television he just continued walking back and forth.

“Keith, what are you doing up?” Banner asked before she could stop herself.

His eyes snapped to her, and stayed for a moment. Without looking away he paused the DVD that was playing. “Distracting myself. The real question is what are you doing up?” He started over towards her.

Banner told herself to move, but nothing happened. She just stared up into his dark green eyes as he moved closer to her. The next thing she knew he was looming over her just staring at her face. She could feel each part of her that his eyes glanced over. They started at her forehead, and then traveled over her cheekbones. Then her nose, her lips, her chin, and back up to her lips.

“I don’t have to tell you that you’re beautiful do I; you must know. Have to know.” His voice was low, and Banner stared up at him blankly. Her mind was dull not really processing what he was saying. His tone of voice was almost mesmerizing.

“I was hoping that you were sound asleep. I was for a few moments; my mind started to wonder. Then I started to dream. This ridiculous fantasy. . . I swear I’ve never . . .”, he fairly whispered, and stopped as if he said too much. “It made me. . curious.” His eyes swept her face again stopping at her lips. “I should’ve fought my mother, and gotten you out of arms reach.”

Something about the way he said the last made Banner put her hands against his chest. The intent was to push him away, but she felt the solid warmth of him, and forgot what she was going to do. The heat of his skin was almost burning, and solid as stone. As she stood there staring at her hands on his chest he moved closer. She could feel the heat of his face as he pushed his nose into her hair. His breath was on her cheek teasing her ear. Banner took a deep breath and slightly shuddered as her nails dug into his chest which offered no give whatsoever.

She tried to pull back finally, but it was too late. His hands were cupping her elbows holding her with no force she could feel, but she couldn’t pull away. Her eyes slid closed as she felt his lips softly brushing her cheek. Her nails dug into fabric as he pulled her closer bringing her body nearly flush with his. His lips roamed over her face like feathers against her skin. He brushed over her lips sweetly, and she gasped. Never had anyone touched her with that type of tenderness. She didn’t really think men were capable of such a thing.

The gasp caused him to press his lips to hers. They held like this for a moment, and she could feel the tip of his tongue brush her closed lips teasing the seam. Her back arched as he took one hand, and placed it at the small of it pushing in. Her lips parted letting him slowly push past them.

Currently Available on the Nook Or Kindle

Always w/love,
Sue

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Excerpt from Charlotte's Chance

Charlotte left her office locking the front door with her purse held high on her shoulder.  She made it to the elevator, and frowned as the door opened just as she was about to press the down button.  The blonde haired wiry man inside didn’t move immediately, but the look he leveled at her from his narrow blue eyes said volumes to what he intended if she boarded.  Charlotte took two steps back, and the man bolted from the back of the elevator.  She turned, and ran for the stairwell. 
He was right behind her having cleared the elevator successfully. Almost in surround sound she could hear the heavy fall of his feet behind her.  No matter how much she wanted to, she didn’t look back as she burst through the door into the stairwell.  The stairwell was stark white, and went down in a circular motion almost.  You could look over the edge of the handrails, and see the three floors below.
Charlotte knew that she couldn’t just flat out run the man so she threw her weight against the door she had just burst through. She heard the man’s bellow of pain from getting his arm hinged in the door.  Frantically Charlotte dug through her purse for her keys as the door started to push her into the corner behind it.  She pulled the pepper spray, and guessed where to aim.  Sticking her arm around the door she sprayed in circles hoping that it was somewhere near the asshole’s eyes.
The pressure on the door eased, and she heard the cursing, and yelling indicating that she had guessed right.  Rushing past the man wiping his eyes at the door she started flying down the stairs as fast as she could using the handrails for leverage as she hopped the corners.   Just like she used to do when she was younger, and trying to outrun her older, longer legged brother.  She almost tripped over her own two feet in her haste to get away.  Behind her were the solid thuds of his feet hitting the steps a beat or two after her.
She reached the first floor, and was about to head out to get help from Harold.  But the door flew open as she jumped the last two steps to the landing.  Thomas in his ball cap, and oversized clothes filled the space shoving her forcefully into the corner of the space behind him, and closing the doorway in the same motion.  Charlotte watched in dazed car wreck fashion as Thomas used the man’s flight to run him into the closed door.  His now limp body fell with a crash to the ground.   Thomas flipped out his cell phone, dialed a number, and then put it on the ground.  In a practiced gesture he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, fell to one knee, and cuffed the man lying on the ground before them in seconds.  Then his golden eyes lanced Charlotte’s from beneath the brim of his plain brown low worn hat.
In the next moment he leaned over to her, and wrapped an arm around her waist as one large hand pushed against the wall behind her.  He stood up smoothly pulling her to her feet, and out of the corner. The action brought her body nearly flush with his.  Her nostrils flared filling with the scents that comprised him at that moment.  A heady musky masculine smell mixed with the scents of the air, and grass outside.  It pulled her in, this strange mix of man, rain, and freshly cut grass.
“Are you alright?”  His silky voice poured over her huskily as he slid his other arm around her waist.  His fingertips were just a hair’s breath away from her bare skin as they ruched the turtleneck sweater that she hadn’t bothered to tuck back in up a little.
The bulky heels of her boots gave her enough height that the top of her head was level with his eyes.  She nodded, tilting her head up so her eyes couldn’t leave his.  Her arms were pressed between their bodies putting her elbows in her gut, and crowding her hands under her chin. The most natural thing in the world to do was flatten her palms against the warmth and solid comfort of his chest.  The second she placed her hands on him though, he pushed her away.
“Don’t say anything to the guard. Go home. I’ll meet you there.” He said urgently his eyes searching her face as he pushed her beyond the circle of his arms.  Oddly he pushed a wisp of her hair out of her eyes then shoved her out of the stairwell door.
Charlotte tried to carry on like she hadn’t just run down four flights of stairs from a mad man that was trying to do God knows what to her.  She passed by Harold, and stopped, coming back.  He would think it was odd if she didn’t speak to him.
“I hope that the call I sent up did you some good Miss Charlotte.”
A bubble of nervous laughter pealed from Charlotte. “Yes it did. Thank you so much for that.”
The weathered mustached man nodded satisfied. “Glad to help. You have a good one.”
She started away not really sure she was actually pulling this off.  “You too Harold. I’m on vacation so I won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”
The weathered face broke into a grin that made him look ten years younger. “Have a great time Miss Charlotte. Hard working woman like you; it’s good to get away every once in a while.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she muttered as she passively watched two men in suits enter the stairwell. 
After a few moments her eyes briefly connected with the intense golden gaze of Thomas Glendel. Smoothly he walked away from the stairwell, and out of the lobby door with the ease of air, and without one hint of wasted effort or motion.  Oddly it made her recall the way he had handled Deborah in the hospital.  Then Charlotte had likened him to a jaguar, all sinew, and tightly corded muscle. 
In the stairwell he had lifted her almost deadweight from the floor with an ease that attested to the power he held in that tightly coiled frame.  Then add the fact that he himself hadn’t even been stabilized when he’d done it.  He had pushed her away like they were strangers, and nearly in the same instant pushed that strand of hair from her eyes as if they had known each other forever.  What an odd and interesting man.  The thought was repeated from when he had walked her back from the hospital parking lot with Sandra’s luggage.
“Bye Harold.” Charlotte turned, and followed the oddity out.


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