Jack drained the last of the warm water from the bottle. Shit.
“I’m so sorry,” Brittany said, her voice strained.
“It’s okay.” He wiped a drip of perspiration from his face. “Maybe I should stop ...”
“It’s such a lot of work, Jack.” She surveyed the material cluttering her small yard. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Hell, yeah.” He forced a grin. “I’m figuring it out. It’s a little different than the house I built with my dad when I was a kid, but hey...it’s way nicer.”
“I’m sure she’ll love it when it’s built.”
A gaping hole in his gut ached. Christ, he hoped so. He was doing this for her. He firmed his lips. “Back to work,” he said, trying to sound confident.

* * *

Ally had waited until two o’clock on Wednesday to call Carter, knowing he was driving back from San Diego that morning.
“Hey, Ally,” he said, surprise roughening his voice. “What’s up?”
“Jack is in town.” No sense making small talk.
A short silence, then, “Jack? Holy shit!”
“I know.” She paused. The question was on the tip of her tongue, ready to burst out. Why the hell didn’t you tell me about his e-mails? But she bit her tongue. “Why don’t you come over tonight and see him?”
“Um...”
“Carter.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he said hastily. “It’d be great to see him again.”
She thought she detected a faint hint of anxiety in his voice but couldn’t be sure. “Great,” she said. “Come over around seven.”
Then she called Jack’s cell phone.
“Hi,” she said. “Where are you?”
“At Brittany’s. Working on this damn tree house.” Of course he was. He’d spent most of yesterday either buying or building the house, had come home late last night. She’d already been in bed, listening for him, wondering what he and Brittany and Sarah were doing so late.
“How’s it going?”
“Crappy.” He sighed. “I didn’t realize what a big job this was. And she doesn’t even like it.”
“What!”
“It’s not in a tree.”
“Oh. But she’ll like it when it’s done.”
“Yeah. That’s what Brittany says, too.”
“I’m sure she’s right. Anyway, I called to tell you I got hold of Carter and he’s coming over tonight to see you.”
When she hung up and turned back to her computer, her stomach was in knots. She had a very uncomfortable feeling about how the meeting was going to go. She was going to have to confront Carter, something she never liked doing. It wasn’t that she cared about him any more. He was just so...overbearing. Annoyingly confident. He was always right.
It pissed her off, made her feel like she was in the wrong, made her feel small and impotent when it came to trying to deal with him. She pressed her lips together.
That was in the past. If Carter had lied to her about Jack, she wanted to know. And Carter was going to know how angry she was.
She tried to focus on her work, but her mind kept going off in different directions and she ended up sitting there, hands idle on the keyboard.
A while later, she looked down at the denim shorts she’d worn all day and grimaced. Okay, maybe this meeting between the three of them after so many years called for something a little better than this. Something confidence building.
In her bedroom, she stepped out of the shorts and pulled the faded grey T-shirt she wore over her head.
She heard the door as Jack arrived home and stood there in her underwear indecisively for a moment, then grabbed a fluffy pink robe and shoved her arms into it. She never wore pink, it was a horrible color on her, but the robe had been a gift. She hurried across the room and out the door to greet him.
He was just coming up the stairs.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. Baggy beige cargo pants hung low on his hips and a snug black T-shirt showed off all the muscle definition he’d acquired over the years. His tanned face shone with perspiration. She warmed inside at the sight of him.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly. He eyed her apparel. “Sorry, I was just changing.” She pushed her hair back and tugged the robe tighter around her, standing at the top of the stairs.
“That’s okay,” Jack said, still looking at her body. Now she really felt warm. “I was just going to shower and change, too. What time is Carter coming?”
“In about an hour.”
“I brought home dinner. Pizza.”
“Oh. Thank you. I’ll go finish getting dressed.”
She turned, acutely conscious of her lack of clothing, and he went into his own room. She returned to her bedroom and dug in her drawer for her powder-blue lace panties and bra. She pulled out her best jeans, really low-rise ones that fit perfectly, and a swingy camisole top in the same shade of blue as her bra. Then she smoothed her hair with a brush and put some shiny gloss on her lips.
Downstairs she found Jack already in the kitchen opening the pizza box, damp-haired from what must have been a speedy shower. “Want a beer?” she asked.
“Hell yeah.” He moved toward her fridge. She liked that he felt comfortable enough there to go in and help himself. She followed him.
He grabbed a beer, popped the top and held it out to her. “Here.”
Ah. That was nice. “Thanks.”
They stayed in the kitchen, eating pizza and drinking beer. When they’d finished, Jack loaded their dishes in the dishwasher while Ally put the leftover pizza in the fridge. Ally glanced at her watch. Carter would be there soon.
Jack’s posture as he leaned against the counter holding his beer looked relaxed, long legs crossed at the ankle, but she could see how taut his body was, the muscles in his arms hard with tension, his lips firm, jaw rigid. Her own shoulders were tight with apprehension at seeing Carter again, and about confronting him. She hated fighting, would almost rather just forget about the whole thing, except ...it was important. Jack said he’d kept in touch, and Jack wouldn’t lie about that. But why would Carter? She had to know what had really happened. It made a difference. Her tummy quivered with nerves.
“You okay?” Jack asked her. Their eyes met, connected, held.
“Yeah, sure.” But her voice came out higher pitched than she’d intended. She licked her lips.
“You don’t want to do this, do you?”
“No. But I have to. I want to know what Carter was doing.”
“Is it hard? To see him again?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’d rather not see him again. Ever.”
“I’m sorry. It’s because of me that you’re having to go through this.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s not because of you. If Carter did something - if he lied to me - it’s because of him we’re doing this.”
“You wouldn’t be doing this if I hadn’t shown up unexpectedly on your doorstep.”
“Maybe not right now.” She sipped her beer, and the fingers holding the bottle trembled. “I can do it, Jack.”
His eyes warmed as they looked at her. “I know you can.” His eyes fell to Ally’s mouth and she felt his gaze like a touch. Her lips parted and she forgot to breathe.
Then the doorbell rang.
“Showtime,” Jack murmured, and they stepped apart.
Ally paused, took a breath, then headed to the door

Extreme Close Up Chapter 16

I can't believe it's Wednesday already, I'm so lost I forgot to post this morning.

This past week I finished Iron by PG Forte. I wrote a little about it last week. It has a most unusual ending - HEA? Hmmm...

I also read a yummy little quickie by one of my fav authors Lacey Alexander (aka Toni Blake) - Scott's Satin Sheets. Another classic Lacey Alexander story about a good girl discovering her inner bad girl.

And I've started Simply Shameless by Kate Pearce. I've read the other "Simply" stories and this one is Helene's...fabulous.

Love Me More is a follow up story to Love Me, which was my very first published story just over a year ago. Gavin and Melina are getting married and the bachelor party is causing Melina some stress! In Love Me, Melina and Gavin learned how important communication is, but Melina's having a hard time telling Gavin why she's so worried about the party. She's kinda crazy but everything she does, she does out of love.

“So you have no tools,” the salesman said, and Jack could clearly hear “you are an idiot” in his tone. “Well, then I’d recommend one of our tree house packages.”
He stood in the monstrous home center gazing at piles of lumber. He ran a hand through his hair.
“Is that a pre-fab kind of thing?”
“Come this way.” The salesman led him through the huge warehouse and stopped in front of a structure. It was a house, all right, but it wasn’t in a tree. It was a raised structure with a small house – an awesome house, Jack had to admit – a slide coming off it, and a set of swings.
“She already has a swing set,” he said doubtfully, eyeing the structure. “And it’s not in a tree.”
“Well, no,” the man said, patience stretching out his words. “But it’s ready to build. The walls, roof and floor are all modular and pre-assembled, so there’s nothing to saw. All wood components are painted to protect them from weather. You can paint the outside and shingle it however you like. Paint and shingles aren’t included.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-nine-ninety-nine.”
Jack gulped. He was pretty sure that didn’t mean twenty nine dollars. But what the hell. He had nothing but money. No home. No car. Not even a single piece of furniture. He’d basically banked and invested all his earnings the last five years, so yeah...he had money. “How do I get it home?” As he said the word “home” he knew it wasn’t right. It wasn’t his home. Whatever.
“We’ll deliver it to your door,” the man replied. “We can have it there this afternoon. Somebody has to be home to take delivery, though.”
“Yeah, okay. I can be there.” He had nothing better to do.
The salesman helped him with the basic tools he was going to need to put the thing together, then he pulled out the credit card and made arrangements for it to all be delivered.
Brittany met him at her place to let him in, then went back to work. Sarah was at daycare. As he waited at their home for the delivery, he felt as much in a foreign place as he had when he’d arrived in Iraq. It was just too weird to contemplate, sitting on Brittany’s worn couch in her little duplex, watching daytime TV, studying Sarah’s paraphernalia lying around – a doll, a pair of pink runners, a baseball cap.
He couldn't help remembering how close he'd been to jumping all over Ally last night. He'd seen something in her eyes that looked a lot like the need and hunger he felt. But she'd said good-night and turned away and that was probably a good thing. Dammit.
He jumped up when the big truck arrived with the delivery, relieved to finally be doing something. Soon he had Brittany’s entire back yard filled with pieces of wood, shingles, a big plastic slide and stuff he didn’t even know what to do with.
He considered reading the directions on how to assemble the house, then set them aside. Nah. He could figure it out. How hard could it be?
The California sun grew warm and eventually he had to shed his sweatshirt to work in a short-sleeved T-shirt. He wiped the sweat from his brow but it trickled down his back, and he knew part of it stemmed from frustration and fear, rather than the sun. The volume of pieces and different types of materials overwhelmed him.
He took a break for a bottle of water from Brittany’s fridge, at her invitation before she’d left for work, and stood surveying the mess he’d made. Hell. This wasn’t going well and-he glanced at his watch-Brittany and Sarah would be home in a couple of hours. He hadn’t planned to finish it by then, he knew that wasn’t realistic, but he’d hoped to have a good start. All he had was chaos.
When all else fails, read the directions. He sat down on the grass with his bottle of water and the book of instructions and started reading.
Okay, he just needed to take an organized approach to this. He sorted parts and pieces, and little by little began to assemble the structure. He’d completed the base of it by the time Sarah and Brittany arrived home.
“Hi Jack.” Sarah ran into the yard and stopped dead. “Wow.” Her eyes were huge in her small face. Brittany came to a stop behind her, stunned amazement also shading her face.
“Um...that’s really big,” she said in a choked voice.
Jack nodded, pleased with what he’d managed to accomplish so far.
“But it’s not in the tree,” Sarah said, and her bottom lip jutted as she gazed at the beginnings of the house.
“No, but it will be up high,” Jack said. “Come see the picture.”
Sarah took a step nearer. He showed her the picture on the front of the instruction book. “See. It has a slide and swings attached.”
“But I already have a slide and swings.” Her bottom lip quivered. “And it’s not in the tree.”
“Sarah,” Brittany’s sharp voice interjected. “Jack is going to a lot of trouble to build this for you, you know.”
Jack looked from Sarah’s pout to Brittany’s frown. “That’s okay ...”
“No,” Brittany said. “Sarah, when someone does something for you you’re supposed to be grateful, not complain.”
“But it’s not what I wanted!” Sarah turned
and ran back into the house on her skinny legs.

Extreme Close Up Chapter 15

I am really slacking lately! Another week where I've read one book and I haven't even finished it! And I'm a fast reader. Clearly I've been spending too much time partying and promoting on the web! It has been a busy week with a new release out and several on-line events and I did manage to get some writing done but the reading has fallen short.

Anyhoo - I'm reading Iron by PG Forte. This is an amazing story. Historicals aren't my first choice except for a few sexy authors I enjoy but this one is so beautiful. It's set in Ireland in the late 1800's, and I love anything Irish. I love all the Irish words and the way the characters talk and the huge conflict that has been set up between Aislinn and Gavin. Gavin is a blacksmith and iron is poisonous to Fae. Gavin also has to deal with an oath sworn to his late wife on her deathbead. I'm feeling bewitched - ensorcelled! - by this story!

As some of you know, every new release I send out a newsletter and give my newsletter members a chance to win a copy of that book. This time I'm including any new members who sign up and leave a comment, and I'm drawing the winner Wednesday evening. Here's where you can join:

Click to join KellyJamiesonnewsletter

It's out! My first Ellora's Cave book!

Here's the blurb and an excerpt and if you want to win copies of it, you can either come hang out at the ellorascavechat Sunday evening from 8:00-9:00 EST or you can join my newsletter group where I give away one free copy of every new release! Just join and leave a comment.

The Irish Sex Fairy believes sex will cure all problems…

So says Great-aunt Maeve, owner of the Irish Sex Fairy, a sex shop in Kilkenny, California. When stressed-out Keara visits Maeve after a hostage situation where she was held at gunpoint, she’s ready to try anything to get over the flashbacks and nightmares and intense guilt over her role in the incident.

Enter sexy Shane Dunstan, Kilkenny’s deputy police chief and old flame of Keara’s. With black hair and blue eyes and a body a girl could easily lose herself in for a lifetime, he’s perfect for putting Maeve’s remedy to the test. He’s more than happy to help. A lot.

But while all the sizzling sex does seem to make Keara feel better, it creates a whole new set of problems. Keara needs to overcome her fears and get back to her career, but that means leaving Shane and Maeve. And when the past comes back to haunt her in a terrifying encounter, she’s about to find out just how effective Maeve’s cure-all is.

“Keara!”

Oh for— It was Shane. She pressed a hand to her racing heart, the adrenaline rush making her legs go mushy. With the lights on, she had to be clearly visible in there, so ducking out wasn’t an option.

She cautiously moved to the door and glared at him, putting a hand on the door frame to steady herself. In the wake of the adrenaline rush, weakness slid through her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and she could hear him through the glass as well as read his lips. “Let me in.”

She shook her head. “No.”

He scowled. “Are you all right?”

“No! You scared the crap out of me!” Now she slumped fully against the wall. She sucked in a long breath.

“Keara, let me in!”

“I’m not letting a strange man in here in the middle of the night.”

“Keara. I’m hardy a stranger.”

So he did remember. Her body tightened. Her eyes met his through the glass.

“I’m also a cop, for Chrissake. I’m just trying to make sure everything’s all right.”

“I don’t care if you’re Jesus himself,” she replied. “I don’t really know you.”

He rolled his eyes.

With a sigh, she punched in the numbers to disable the alarm system Maeve had showed her how to use so she could come and go as she pleased. She unlocked the door and Shane stepped into the store, closed the door behind him and flicked the lock again.

“What the hell are you doing down here in the middle of the night?” he demanded.

“I couldn’t sleep. I decided to come down and look around.”

He stared at her and she realized he had a smear of something on his jaw. She gazed at it. “Uh…you have something…” She lifted her hand point at it and realized what it was. Lipstick. “You have lipstick on your face,” she said. “Guess the date went well tonight, huh? Make use of all those condoms?”

*

Shane blinked at her, lifted a hand to his cheek.

“Other side,” she said. He scrubbed at his stubbly jaw.

Date? Condoms? Oh yeah. Considering he’d only rolled out of Laila’s bed an hour ago, he’d forgotten her pretty damn quickly. Maeve’s niece had knocked him off balance.

She seemed a lot different than the passionate, vibrant girl he remembered. The girl who’d driven him wild with lust. Now she was pale, with dark shadows under those sparkling emerald green eyes that had bewitched him. Now, she could freeze whiskey with a glance of those witchy eyes.

“The date was fine,” he said. “And yeah…” He eyed her and gave a deliberate smirk. “The sex was safe.”

“I’m so glad for you,” she snapped, taking a step back. Which was when he realized she was barely dressed. A thin, ribbed white cotton tank top clearly outlined her small breasts, shadowy nipples prominent, and the little shorts, white with pink hearts, revealed her long, sleek legs. Oh man. He’d touched those breasts. He’d had those legs wrapped around him. His dick hardened.

She held a glass in one hand and gave the other hand a shake, drops flying off it. She muttered something he couldn’t hear.

“Spill your drink?” he asked. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What the hell else do you think my reaction would be? I wasn’t exactly expecting company. And anyway, what are you doing here?” Her eyes swept over him. Please don’t let her notice my hard-on. “You’re not wearing your uniform, so it’s not like you were out patrolling or something.”

“As deputy police chief, I rarely patrol anymore,” he replied, a smile curling his lips. “I was just on my way home.” He lifted a brow.

“Oh.” She rolled her lips in. Pretty lips, except she seemed to perpetually hold them in a tight line. “So it was a late night.”

“Or early morning.” He shrugged, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Whatever.”

She took a sip of what little remained in the glass. It looked like whiskey. Did she share Maeve’s enthusiasm for a wee dram of the Jameson’s?

“Well, if you’re okay and the place isn’t being robbed…”

She flinched, a flash of something like fear in her eyes, her mouth tightening even more. The whiskey again threatened to leap out of the glass. “That’s why I stopped,” he explained, watching her carefully. “I thought maybe someone had broken in…”

Her eyes shifted, went glassy, and she rubbed her fingers over one eyebrow. “No,” she rasped. “No one broke in.”

And then he remembered. It had been all over the news and Maeve had been distraught with worry about her great-niece. “Fuck,” he muttered, straightening. “I’m sorry. I forgot…”

Her eyes blinked rapidly. “You know about the robbery.”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

She laughed. Kind of a weird reaction. “Of course I’m okay! It happened six weeks ago. I’m fine.”

The fingers lifting the glass to her lips trembled now and he realized he had indeed scared the shit out of her. Damn. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “Are you sure you’re all right? Come on, I’ll make sure you get upstairs all right.”

“That is not necessary,” she replied, her tone frosty. “I’m fine. You can go. Thanks for checking, though, I know my aunt would appreciate you keeping an eye on the store.”

Her cool politeness was only slightly less annoying than it had been earlier. The fact that she’d ignored her old aunt for years still pissed him off, but the glimpse of vulnerability beneath the icy façade appealed to his need to protect. Dammit. After what she’d been through, no wonder he’d scared her. What an idiot he was.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want to leave her, now he remembered what had happened to her.

“Yes I’m sure!” She scowled at him, a pretty scowl, but it carried a clear message.

“Fine,” he said. “Sorry to bother you.” He turned and opened the door, then paused. “Make sure you lock this and rearm the alarm.”

“I’m not stupid.”

He stepped out onto the sidewalk, and even though he knew she was far from stupid, he waited until he heard the locks click. Then the lights inside the shop went out and he could no longer see her.

Well. In the cool, damp night air, he sauntered back to his car parked at the curb. Fucking weird, because he’d just had several rounds of vigorous sex, but all he could think about was kissing Keara’s tight mouth into a soft pout, like he had all those years ago. Why had she shown up here after all these years? And why was his head full of her instead of the sexy blonde he’d just had hot sex with?

The fashion show began, the least professional fashion show he’d ever seen, but the most moving and emotional. As Ally had told him, the models were all women who’d kicked drugs and reclaimed their lives, all beautiful in their own way. Some walked the runway with hesitant steps, others with proud confidence, others with shy embarrassment.
Jack’s attention was momentarily diverted by the photographer shooting each model as she came out, and he studied the man as he worked, checked out his camera. Then Ally next to him distracted him as she clapped, cheered and laughed. The pleasure she took in the women’s success humbled him. At the end, the models all came out, hugging, laughing through tears, and Jack, Ally and her friend Kim stood with the rest of the audience to applaud them enthusiastically.
When he turned to Ally, she was wiping a tear from her eye and he smiled at her with concern. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she said with a laugh and a small sniff. “I’m fine. This was so good for me tonight. When I feel sorry for myself, working with people like Toya always puts things in perspective.”
He knew exactly what she meant, had gotten the same reality-check just that morning. At that moment, he felt the deep connection he had with Ally, a connection he had never felt with anyone else, and their eyes met and held in the crowded room.
“You’re so special,” he told her softly.
She smiled tremulously. “Thank you.”
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. It took all his self-control to resist the urge, and he shoved his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants as he followed Ally and Kim out of the ballroom.
“There’s a small party after,” Ally told him. “Kim and I are invited as volunteers. We should make an appearance.” Her eyes questioned him. He realized he probably looked moody, scowling in his efforts to resist Ally, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched.
“Of course,” he said immediately, only too happy to watch her with her friends.
He accepted a glass of non-alcoholic punch and sipped it as Ally and Kim mingled and talked with other volunteers and the evening’s models. Ally looked so sophisticated, so confident, laughing and talking with the others, accepting hugs of thanks from some of the women she’d worked with. And yet, she hadn’t ditched him. She made sure to include him in conversations, introduced him to people, took his arm when she moved on and towed him with her.
Being in her world entertained and enlightened, and he wished he could be more of a part of it. He pushed gloomy thoughts like that out of his mind. He was trying to take one day at a time right now, deal with one issue at a time, and a relationship with Ally was not something he could even think about.
Later, he followed her into her house, feeling like a teenager on a date again, waited while she turned on lights. She turned to him and smiled. “I hope it wasn’t too much torture for you tonight,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”
“No. Thank you. You’re amazing.”
She flushed a little, dropped her eyes. “No, I’m not. I really don’t do very much. Not as much as some people.”
“There you go again, fishing for compliments.”
Her gaze flew up to his. “I was not!”
He laughed. “I’m kidding. By the way, what you do is just so...you.”
She laughed a little breathlessly. “Okay.”
He stared at her longingly, wishing for things he couldn’t have. Her eyes warmed and her pupils expanded. Was she thinking the same things?
Their gazes locked. A tension between them drew them closer and he wasn’t sure, but he might have moved toward her. Silent darkness surrounded them. His heart thundered his chest and he felt like he was in a dream where he wanted to move but was frozen. He wanted to touch Ally. He wanted to say to hell with all the sensible reasons he shouldn’t touch her, he wanted for once in his life so badly to do the wrong thing. Because taking her into his arms, holding her, ravishing her, would feel so right.

Extreme Close Up Chapter 14

Each month Marcia James interviews an author or publishing insider who has “James” in his/her name. Her October James Gang interview is with me!

Marcia James Blog

Yikes I only read one book this week!

I finished Riding on Instinct by Jaci Burton. I really enjoyed this story. Nice little twist at the ending, though I did pick up on the clue before Shadoe did, LOL!

Last night I started Iron by PG Forte. PG and I have been discovering all kinds of connections in our stories so I’m looking forward to this story set in Ireland.

Last night I went to the Keith Urban concert. Lady Antebellum was the opening act. They were both so great! Keith Urban especially surprised me, because I don't know his music that well. I'm not a big fan of country music, but this was way more rock n roll than country. He is an amazingly talented guitar player! Just incredible.

Here. Listen while you read.




As I watched I felt so inspired. Not to make music. Though I love music, I'm not a musician. But I watched him up there on stage pouring his heart and soul and emotion into creating something beautiful and moving, and it made me want to do that too. It made me want to pour my heart and soul out into words. It made me want to create something beautiful and moving. It made me want to go home and stay up all night writing and creating.

Does seeing other artists inspire you like that, even though their art is not writing?

And it's soon! October 2, that's this FRIDAY!!
Isn't it beautiful:

When Ally descended the stairs carefully on spiky heels,ready to go to the fashion show that night, Jack forgot to breathe. He’d never seen her look like that. Her moss-green dress wrapped around her, hugging her slender curves, a V-neckline revealing tempting cleavage. He gulped.
The luxury hotel in Beverly Hills had donated the use of their ballroom as their contribution to the event. The not-lavish but tasteful decorations gave the ballroom a gala air, chairs arranged around a catwalk, many of them already full. Other people mingled near the door, trying to talk over the music blaring from huge speakers.
“I need to go back and see how things are going,” Ally told Jack. “Come on.”
His mind jumped to the possibility of naked models and he followed Ally. Backstage there was no nudity, just controlled chaos as a whole lot of women had their hair and makeup done.
They all greeted Ally like a long lost friend. One woman even jumped out of the chair where a stylist painstakingly flat-ironed her hair and ran over to hug her.
“I’m so glad you came!” she bubbled.
Ally hugged her back, then studied her. “Of course I came,” she said with a smile. “Toya, you look gorgeous.” Skilfully applied make-up highlighted the woman’s smooth, dark skin, beautiful chocolate eyes and full lips. Her ebony hair curved smoothly to her shoulders.
“I’m so nervous!” Toya’s dark eyes flashed.
“You know you can do anything,” Ally reminded her, looking serious. She shook both of Toya’s hands gently. “You have to know that now, after what you’ve been through. Walking out there on that stage is nothing compared to what you’ve accomplished.”
“I know, I know,” Toya replied, visibly calming.
“We’re all shaking in our boots!” called out another woman, her hair being removed from rollers. The others all shouted out agreement and nervous laughter.
“Who’s the hunk, Ally?” another model called out. Ally turned pink.
“This is my friend Jack,” she introduced him. He grinned and lifted a hand. “Jack, this is everyone.”
“Oooh, Ally, he’s hot,” cried another voice. Jack’s grin widened and Ally’s cheeks got pinker.
“Okay, let’s go,” Ally muttered, turning. “Good luck!” she called, with a wave. “Break a leg!”
They groaned as Jack followed her out and back to their seats, bemused by Ally’s interactions with the women.
“My friend Kim’s here,” Ally said, leading him over to a tiny woman with short spiky blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Ally introduced him again after greeting Kim with a hug. They took their seats, Ally between Kim and Jack.
“Did Ally tell you any of their stories?” Kim asked Jack, leaning forward to see him around Ally.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “In fact, she didn’t tell me that she even knew all those women.” He glanced reprovingly at Ally. She looked down at her hands in her lap.
“Ally volunteers at Freedom House,” Kim said. “You didn’t know that either?”
“Uh...no.”
Kim nodded enthusiastically. “We both do. Ally got involved about a year ago after she did a story on us for LA Life. I’ve been volunteering there for a little longer.”
“The story I did was one of my less fluffy pieces.” Ally smiled wryly. “Something I was actually proud of.”
Hey, what did that mean? She should be proud of all her writing.
“I was so impressed with the strength of some of the women who stayed there, and with the dedication of the volunteers, I got involved myself,” she continued. “Doing what?”
“I work with any women who have literacy issues. And I do some writing for their website - articles about success stories and the like. Stories to motivate women who need the services, and also about volunteers who donate time and money.”
“You teach them to read?”
She nodded.
“Toya had a grade five reading level when she came here,” she told him. “She was addicted to crack and had three kids who had been taken away because she couldn’t care for them. I wasn’t the only one who worked with her, but she and I worked on learning to read.” She shook her head. “It’s a long haul for them. Some don’t make it. But she was tough. She hung in there, persevered. Now she’s clean, she has a good job and she’s gotten her kids back. And you saw her...she’s gorgeous.”
He nodded, something squeezing inside him. “I bet you saw how gorgeous she was right at the beginning.”
She looked at him. “Huh?”
“I know what he means,” Kim said to Ally. “You always know what to focus on with the ladies. You knew right away Toya was smart and loved animals. So you worked on reading with her, stories about animals and veterinarians, and steered her in the direction of working as a vet’s assistant.”
Ally nodded. “Well, yes.”
“You have an ability to see the best in people and bring that out of them.” Jack looked at her, pride and admiration swelling inside him. She met his eyes then looked quickly away, down at her hands. Damn, he’d made her uncomfortable. He felt her moving beside him, her slim shoulder brushing against his. Then she lifted a hand to push her hair back and her warm, flowery scent tempted his nostrils. When the lights dimmed, he barely noticed, so focused was he on the woman beside him, a woman who amazed him, captivated him.

Extreme Close Up Chapter 13

I finished Breaking Loose by Tara Janzen. Nice satisfying ending in some ways, in other ways of course she leaves you hanging, desperate for the next book - hurry, Tara!!! I need to know!

This week I started Riding on Instinct by Jaci Burton. This book is part of a series about the Wild Riders, an undercover biker group and the heroine of this story is working undercover as a stripper. Cool.

And if you'd like to read a powerful and moving poem, check out my critique partner Nara Malone's winning poem Blue Harbor, in the the September edition of Emuse.It won the Summer Madness competition.

I have news! Actually to me it's old news, I've just been waiting til all is official to announce it here, although I did already post some of my news at Romance Divas and on Twitter.

I got my contract today from Ellora's Cave for my second book with them: Irish Sex Fairy. So it's official! Finished edits on it over the weekend (barring any other changes my wonderful editor Suz wants me to make!). Check out my website for a blurby thing about it and I'll update release dates and cover when I know!

Also in today's email were my final books for Love Me More, out October 13 from Samhain. All ready to give away in some contests perhaps! I posted the beautiful cover here a couple of weeks ago. Also on my website.

AND THE BIGGEST MOST EXCITING NEWS:
I've signed with agent Laura Bradford!! I got the signed agency agreement a while ago but just thought I'd save up some news and put it all together here! She's already been pitching my book and I'm so thrilled to be working with her.

Jack brushed a kiss over her mouth, a chaste, friendly kiss that did nothing to satisfy the sharp, aching need inside her. In fact, it only served to ignite the low burning heat low in her belly into a red-hot blaze. He pulled back and she almost fell against him as he moved away.
“Good night, Ally.”
She stared at him, her body aching for him, unable to think clearly. Her nipples tingled and hardened beneath the tank top she wore. She pushed down the frustration and arousal and tried to get her wits together.
“Yeah. Um, good night.” Heat slid through her at how close she’d gotten to doing something really embarrassing. She pressed past him and, trying not to flee with shame, flashed her teeth at him in a forced smile, then turned her back and climbed the stairs, one step at a time, fighting the urge to run.
Once in her room, she let emotion take over and sank onto her bed, trembling. She covered her face with her hands. What on earth had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been thinking. She’d been feeling, with every nerve ending in her body, feeling more than she’d ever felt in her life.
Since Carter’s betrayal, she’d been a lifeless mannequin. She’d had no interest in dating, a huge cold emptiness inside her. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong that had led Carter to cheat on her with another woman, and had wondered if she would ever meet someone that would make her feel alive, someone she would satisfy.
But not Jack. He was a friend. He was not someone to satisfy her sexual yearnings with. God.

* * *

They could try to pretend the moment had never happened, but it was there, making things awkward and edgy. Ally’d appeared in kitchen while he was eating his cereal in the morning, dressed in a swirl-around-the-knees flowered skirt and a camisole top that showed off smooth shoulders and arms.
She’d flashed a too-bright smile and headed for the coffee pot, and he’d responded with a similar smile. Now they sat at the counter on stools, eating, drinking coffee, Jack looking at Ally’s morning newspaper, the silence dense and heavy.
Jack finished reading the paper and folded it up.
Ally glanced at her watch. “I’ll call Carter at his office,” she offered, reaching for the phone on the counter.
He listened to her talk to Carter’s secretary.
“Oh, he is,” she said, eyes meeting his. “When’s he due back? Wednesday. You expect him in the office Wednesday morning?” She paused, listening. “Oh. Okay then. Thanks, Bridget.”
She pressed the button to turn the phone off and set it down on the counter. “He’s in San Diego.”
“Oh.”
“I should have asked her for his cell phone number.” Jack shook his head. “Nah. Never mind. I’ll still be here Wednesday, I’ll call him then.”
“Okay.” She eyed him cautiously. She picked up a piece of toast, then set it down on her plate again. “I have to work today.”
“God, that’s fine Ally. I don’t want to get in your way of that. I’ll find something to do.”
“And tonight I’m going out.”
“Oh.” His body tensed. Was she going on a date?
“I’m going to a fashion show.”
A fashion show?
Ally got up and walked over to a closet. “Here’s an extra key, so you can come and go as you need.”
“Thanks.” Jack pocketed the key slowly.
She hesitated at the door of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. “You can come with me tonight, if you want,” she offered tentatively. “It’s a different kind of fashion show.”
“Different how?”
“It’s a charity event to raise money for Freedom House.”
He raised a brow.
“Freedom House is a shelter, part of a big international charitable organization. They help women with drug addictions get clean and get their lives back.”
He nodded, noticed the flare in her eyes as she talked.
“The fashion show raises money, of course, but the models are all women who’ve been through the program. It helps boost their self esteem and also gives them some recognition for what they’ve accomplished.”
Jack had once visited a photographer buddy in Milan who shot fashion. He envisioned stick-thin models strutting the runways in outrageous couture clothing and shook his head. “Sure I’ll come,” he said, somewhat doubtfully.
Rather than hang around Ally’s house again all day - especially if she was there – he made his way to the beach. A few people wandered there and Jack strolled along, two cameras hanging around his neck.
That brush of a kiss last night had been a huge mistake. It had been so hard to resist taking more, her multi-colored eyes all big and sparkling, her lush mouth just begging to be kissed. It had almost seemed as if she wanted it as much as he did. How could that be? Could it be?
The Pacific Ocean sparkled in the eye-stabbing sunshine, the morning warmth hinting of heat to come later, the fresh breeze carrying the salty tang of the sea. This was so far away from what he’d left in Iraq it was almost surreal.
There was a certain relief in being away from the pain and tragedy that haunted daily life there. Maybe he hadn’t realized how much it had been affecting him until he was removed from it. It weighed on a person, made every day, every simple daily act, an effort, fear and a low-level anxiety always present, coloring and shadowing everything.
He took a deep breath of fresh sea air, letting the ocean breeze stroke through his shaggy hair.
And yet, despite its beauty, its picture-perfection, its blatant wealth and shininess, LA wasn’t perfect either. As he passed a building housing washrooms and showers for beachgoers, he spotted a scruffy-looking man dressed in threadbare clothes. He’d apparently just used the facilities to shower, and carried what looked like all his worldly possessions in a plastic shopping bag. He stopped at the overflowing trash can to peer in and dig though it.
Jack lifted his camera and framed the man, his thin face concentrated on his important task, rotated the focusing ring until the image was sharp, and clicked. His long lens let him take the shot without the man realizing and he rapidly fired off a few more shots. As Jack continued his walk, he encountered other homeless people who’d found shelter near the beach for the night. Their lives were probably filled with fear and anxiety, a struggle for them that was different than life in Iraq but no less difficult.
Not for the first time, a feeling of gratitude swept over Jack, a realization of how incredibly lucky he was.

Extreme Close Up Chapter 12

I finished Crazy Kisses by Tara Janzen and am now into Breaking Loose also by Tara. There are several little mysteries in this story that are pulling at me, have to find out what’s going on, but one of them (again so hard not to talk about these books without spoilers!) I can only say, yes!! He’s alive!! And I don’t think he’s actually Jesus Christ LOL.

“What?” Jack stared at her.
Ally bit her lip and peered up at him through her eyelashes. His hands clenched into fists at his side and his jaw tightened.
“Why would you think that?” he demanded. He squinted at her.
“You have a daughter together,” Ally whispered, twisting her fingers around each other. “You cared about her once.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “That was years ago. I was eighteen, for Chrissake.”
“But it’s possible...”
He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair. “No. It’s not possible, Ally. Believe me.”
“Okay. I just thought maybe you’d rather have me out of the way if you two...”
“Is that what you were thinking about earlier? When we left Brittany’s?”
“Yes.”
“God. I thought you were pissed off at me for dragging you into this mess.”
Her mouth fell open. “I’m not pissed off! I’m...upset about it. I feel bad for Brittany and how she’s raised a daughter all on her own. It can’t have been easy. And I’m sad about how she kept your daughter from you all these years...but I’m not mad at you. About that, anyway.”
Their eyes met and held. “So it’s okay if I stay longer?” He had no goddamn idea why he was doing this. He should get the hell out of here before he embarrassed himself.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
They stood there in front of her home.
“Um...I’ll make dinner. I have some chicken...”
“That’d be good.”
“It’s actually nice to have someone to cook for again,” she said over her shoulder, heading into the condo. “When it’s just me, I don’t bother much. Lean Cuisines and soup.”
“Can I help?”
She turned and looked at him. “Have you learned how to cook in the last five years? Because you sure didn’t know how before.”
He grinned. “No.”
She tried to hold back her smile but couldn’t. “Then you’re not much help.”
“I can do something. I can fetch stuff for you. Set the table.”
Shaking her head, she opened the fridge door and bent over to stick her head inside. The shorts rode up and his hands ached to test the curvy flesh of her ass, to see if it was as firm and soft as he thought.
She backed out and stood up, holding a package of chicken breasts and some bags of produce. He dragged his gaze up. She didn’t seem to have noticed him checking out her ass.
She pulled out a cutting board, started slicing, chopping, mincing. “Can you get me a box of fettuccine from the cupboard over there?”
He helped her fix dinner and then they sat at the counter to eat the awesome pasta, chicken and vegetables in a garlicky-tomato sauce and warm, crusty rolls.
“You’re a good cook, Ally,” Jack said as he polished off the last of the chicken.
“Thanks. I like cooking.”
“I like eating, so we’re a perfect match.”
Once again their eyes met and awareness shimmered between them, and he knew she felt it too. Christ, he was in trouble.
An intense, aching want tightened his body, made him hard. With hands that trembled, he carefully set down his cutlery. Those watchful, see-inside-you, green, gold and brown eyes terrified him. He picked up his glass of water and drank deeply, dragging his eyes away from her. Why the hell hadn’t he gone to a hotel like he’d planned? The food he’d eaten churned in his gut.
He had to get a grip if he was going to stay there. Ally was off limits. It made his chest ache, though, to have come all this way, found her - alone! Not with Carter any more. To find he still wanted her, more than anything in the world. But he still couldn’t have her.

* * *

Ally sat back in her chair, poking at the last of the food on her plate with her fork, stomach tight, appetite gone. Something about the way Jack looked at her, the way his eyes grew hot and dark, the way his face tightened, made him look insanely sexy. It squeezed the breath out of her and made her shiver.
When he finally looked away she sucked in a deep breath. God, last night this had happened, too. What was going on? She pressed a hand to her tummy.
“I’ll do the dishes,” he said, pushing back his chair and standing up. “Since you cooked.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” But he was adamant.
“Just show me where stuff is, and I’ll do it. You go watch TV or whatever you’d usually do on a Sunday night.”
She wandered into the living room and sat on the couch, took a big breath in. And out. This was insane. She could not be having these kinds of thoughts about Jack. For one thing, he was a friend. That’s all. For another thing, he’d think she was nuts. Although she got the impression he felt something, too. But he had enough confusion in his life right now. And, he’d soon be leaving again to go back to some war-torn country to take powerful, gut-wrenching, award-winning photographs. She sighed.
When he came into the room a short time later, she still hadn’t turned the television on, sat staring into space in the evening dimness. He sat on the far end of the couch from her.
She turned to him. “Did you feel like a father? This afternoon, when you met Sarah?” Her fingers played with the cushion she held on her lap.
Jack put his hands behind his head and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. The short sleeves of his T-shirt rode up and the paler underside of his biceps bulged. Ally’s mouth went dry.
“No,” he finally said. He was quiet again for a moment. “I don’t know what I felt. I thought maybe there’d be some instant connection, some paternal instinct would kick in. But I just felt like I was meeting Brittany’s daughter. Except I was more nervous.”
“You were nervous?”
“Hell, yeah. Like a first date, when you want to make a good impression. Only worse.”
“Oh, Jack.” Her heart squeezed. “She will love you. You two just need to get to know each other.”
He turned his head to look at her. “I guess.” He closed his eyes and pain etched grooves in his face on either side of his mouth. “What a fucking mess.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be here long enough to get to know her. And even if I am...I still have to leave.” Jack’s voice was raw with emotion. “How do I do that, Ally? How do I be a father to her?”
Ally bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she whispered. The ache in her chest intensified. She ached for Brittany, who’d chosen such a difficult path, for Sarah who’d never known her dad, for how she might feel when she did get to know him and he left, and for Jack...especially for Jack, sitting there agonizing over his life.
“So what happens tomorrow?” she asked. “Brittany is going to call you?”
He nodded. “Yup. I guess we’ll talk about how we’re going to handle this. When to tell Sarah.” He sat up and lowered his arms. “Sarah wants a tree house. If Brittany will let me, I might build one for her.”
Ally pictured Jack swinging a hammer. Shirtless, muscles flexing. Whoa. She swallowed, tried to talk. “You know how to build a tree house?” Her throat felt as if she’d swallowed cotton.
He laughed. “I have no clue. But I think I could figure it out.” He stretched his long legs out in front of him, the soft, worn denim outlining the big hard muscles in his thighs. She couldn’t help but notice the bulge behind his fly, and immediately looked away, appalled at herself.
She nodded. “Okay. Well, I’m going up to bed. Good night.” She stood and as she moved by him, he stood, too.
She couldn’t get past him with the couch on one side and the coffee table on the other. She looked up at him uncertainly. He reached a hand out and took hold of her hair, hanging over her shoulder, and dragged his fingers down the length of it. When his fingers got to the ends, he held on, gave a gentle tug that brought her closer. God, she loved having her hair touched. Did he know that?
“Thanks for letting me stay here,” he said softly. “And for your support.” His eyelids went heavy and his wrist rested just against the swell of her breast, still holding her hair. She tried not to breathe, but the urge to inhale deeply and push her breast against him was almost impossible to resist. This close, she could smell the warm, male scent of him. She stood still, paralyzed, hypnotized by his blue, blue eyes. Liquid warmth pooled inside her, low in her belly, and she longed for him to touch her hair again, longed to move forward that scant distance between them and press her body against his.
The light from the television brightened, then dimmed, the sound of the newscast a distant, wordless hum.
Fuzzy-minded, soft-bodied, her eyes went to Jack’s mouth, the allure of it so tempting. She felt her own eyes start to fall shut and she swayed a bit closer, her lips parting.

Extreme Close Up Chapter 11

Almost forgot it was Wednesday, because of the long weekend! Love those short weeks.

This week I read Smash Cut by Sandra Brown. Wow! She totally got me. Lately I can predict plot twists in stories I’m reading with ho hum regularity so I am lost in admiration that I did not figure this one out. Of course after the fact, I don’t know why I didn’t. Not to reveal any spoilers, but it was the one thing nagging at me about the story, so really I should have clued in. But when I got there and read it, it hit me right between the eyes and I laughed out lout because I was so surprised. Loved it! She is a great story teller.

And I started Crazy Kisses by Tara Janzen. Yes, I’m back to Tara. I want to read this one before I read her latest. It’s already downloaded on my reader!