Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!
Jackie Dunn and Matt Stewart barely knew each other in high school, back when she was a blue-haired alterna-kid and he was a preppy jock. High school rules dictated they'd never hang out, or sit at the same lunch table, or God forbid, date.
But when a weird storm transports them from their ten-year reunion back to senior year, they have to work together to figure out a way to get back to 2008.
Stuck in high school, Jackie and Matt agree to tough it out. They agree to do everything exactly as they remember, even though that means staying with the boyfriend Jackie knows will betray her, or playing nice with the girl that will someday be Matt’s ex-wife. Soon, they come to rely on one other, even become friends.
Jackie’s just starting to get used to curfews and term papers again, when Matt hits her with the biggest surprise of all: he’s fallen in love with her. He’ll change the past however he has to if it means a future with Jackie. But Jackie’s terrified they’ll not only alter their lives, but the lives of everyone around them.
Back to the Future meets She's All That, Class of '98 is a young adult/adult crossover that will appeal to teens and adults.
Title: Class of ‘98 Publication date: November 26, 2013 Publisher: Swoon Romance Author: A.L. Player
Available for Purchase:
L. Player teaches middle and high school English in Atlanta, GA. She lives with her guitar-playing, English-teaching husband and their three crazy rescue dogs. Her last name gets about the reaction you'd expect.
Stripped of her nobility and taken as a war prize, Viette is determined to take control of her life at all costs, even if it means dominating a King to do so.
At every turn her world is filled with passionate intrigues, silver-tongue lies, and blinding deceit. 'Don't bite the hand that feeds you' rings true, especially if the hand is that of Viette.
Excerpt :
She kept her eyes turned to a far corner of the room, yet out of the edge of her sight she took note of his form. Soft shadows played over his skin, water dripped from the curls of hair thrown over his shoulder.
“Why won’t you look at me?” he asked, angling his face in front of hers.
Unpermitted, her brow furrowed, and she scowled at the fluttering drapes that concealed them from the outside world. Her eyes flashed to his and her stomached balled up tightly—gray eyes, a full mouth, narrow nose, bold cheeks. And in her mind she saw those same sharp eyes but glinting with the orange-red of raging fire, eyelids dirtied with Yander soil. A sharp pain stabbed through her temples, pulsing to her heart. She looked away before the sensation deepened.
He reached for her hand and clutched it tightly.
The hollow pull in her heart was from loneliness, desperation, angst . . . nothing more. She tried, desperately, to convince herself of such.
“You’re trembling,” he said, as if she were unware of her body’s traitorous shaking.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Judy is a Romance and Erotica author who began penning stories a number of years ago. With an eye for trouble and a thirst for kinky intrigues her stories are often a grab bag of wicked delights.
It’s Mardi Gras time in New Orleans. Attending a masquerade ball, wealthy fashion designer Caterine Doucette, dressed as a shimmering ice princess, has her cool façade shattered when she encounters Bayou-born ex-cop Remi Michaud, disguised as the darkly handsome pirate Jean Lafitte. Their true identities hidden, the princess and the pirate come together in an explosion of passion and desire. But when fantasy turns to cold reality, Caterine panics and disappears into the night, unaware this man will soon be sent to rescue her from a killer and will capture her heart.
Orphaned at a young age, Caterine grew up in the home of her beloved grandmother, Miss Dauphine Doucette. Despised by her Doucette relatives for the devotion she received from her grandmère, Caterine suffered years of envy and disdain. The young Caterine learned quickly how easily the love she had to give could be thrown back in her face.
Not knowing whom to trust, Caterine goes into hiding. Miss Dauphine, convinced someone in her own family is behind the attack, hires Remi, now working for a private security company, to track her down and unmask her would-be assassin.
Learning that the affluent Caterine Doucette is the beautiful princess he held in his arms at the ball, Remi is torn between his growing desire for her and painful memories of another rich socialite’s betrayal. Caterine finds herself falling in love with Remi, but old embedded pain leaves her afraid to open her heart.
Down in the Big Easy, Caterine and Remi must learn to trust one another if they are to survive in a world of family greed and ruthless revenge.
Debby Grahl lives on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, with her husband, David, and their cat, Tigger. When she’s not writing, she enjoys biking, walking on the beach, and having a glass of wine at sunset. Her favorite places to visit are the Cotswolds of England, Captiva Island in Florida, New Orleans, New York City, and her home state of Michigan. She is a history buff who also enjoys reading murder mysteries, time travel, and of course, romance. Visually impaired since childhood by Retinitis pigmentosa (RP), she uses screen-reading software to research and write her books. Debby belongs to Romance Writers of America, Florida Romance Writers, Hearts Across History, and Lowcountry Romance Writers. Her first novel, The Silver Crescent, was released January 2014.
Be sure to look for her other book, The Silver Crescent as well!
"When privileged fashion designer Caterine Doucette meets sexy Cajun ex-cop Remi Michaud, things get way hotter than usual in New Orleans around Mardi Gras. Caterine's life is in danger, and Remi is hired to protect her - a job to which he applies himself most personally. Hot, and with a genuine mystery, I didn't know exactly who the baddie was until the ultimate showdown." - Andrea
Your Book Rue Toulouse is set in New Orleans… please explain why you chose that setting and why you have such an affinity for the location.
My husband, David, and I first visited New Orleans in 1989 and fell in love with the city. I’m a history buff by heart so I found the old Spanish architecture with its wrought iron balconies enchanting. It was a few years ago, while sitting on one of these balconies, or galleries as they are called there, that the idea for Rue Toulouse came to me.
There’s a saying, “only in New Orleans.” And this is so true. As I sat on my balcony overlooking Toulouse street, I could see a musician setting up on the corner. Soon the clear sounds of his saxophone filled the night. The smell of spicy gumbo from the restaurant across from me wafted through the air. The clip clop from a horse drawn carriage passed beneath me, its driver thrilling his passengers with tales of the ghosts that haunt the city. A man painted all in silver strolled along juggling oranges while a bicycle cab pedaled by. A group of laughing tourists carrying red go cups went into a bar, and the long low whistle of a boat on the Mississippi could be heard in the distance.
I sipped my glass of wine and nibbled on Voodoo chips, and the characters in Rue Toulouse began to take form in my mind. In one scene, Remi looks down on Rue Toulouse from the gallery of his apartment and thinks he sees Caterine driving by. Hopefully I’ve brought a little of this wonderful city to life for you while you read about Caterine and Remi as they learn to love and trust one another, down in the heart of the Big Easy.
Genres: Young Adult Romance, Horror, Zombies, Science Fiction Series: Territory of the Dead Available free with Kindle Unlimited. Blurb:
Eighteen-year-old Tabitha Alexander had just graduated from high school when the dead invaded her small town of Pleasant, Louisiana. Working as a checkout girl in the only grocery store in town, she barely made it out with her life.
But the night was only beginning.
What started out as a group of three grows, as they are joined by the few that are still alive. New bonds are formed as old ones die, and Tabitha suddenly finds that the guy she’s always wanted might just want her back.
The timing couldn’t be worse, though. The zombies in Pleasant are smart, with an awareness that’s horrifying. And when the zombies discover the house full of survivors, those inside realize that the walls aren’t strong enough to keep them out.
All hope is lost. Or is it? Salvation comes in the form of a mysterious man, with a pair of steely-gray eyes and an arsenal to match. He rescues them, but at what cost? Kellan can’t seem to keep his otherworldly eyes off of her.
She’s no match for him. She knows this. Yet, he intrigues her… and Tabitha knows it’s the most dangerous reaction of all.
Excerpt:
I exhaled deeply as I finished scanning the last coupon. The woman gave me a sharp look of annoyance, as if I had no room for complaint. Really, what did she expect? Was I supposed to grovel and thank her for allowing me the honor of scanning her precious coupons ten minutes before closing time?
Apparently so. “You know, young lady, it wouldn’t hurt you to smile at your customers and thank them when they offer you their coupons. I don’t think I’ve ever had such poor customer service. I don’t have to shop here, especially with this kind of attitude.” She was working herself up into a rage, her expression full of self-righteous indignation.
I didn’t reply, but instead pushed the total button. Some of the customers in line groaned, while others shifted in impatience. They really didn’t want to be further delayed by her rant. She slammed a hundred dollar bill down on the counter. “Where is your manager? I want to speak with him now.”
I pointed towards Jim, as he straightened his shoulders and attempted to look professional. I could only imagine the holier-than-thou attitude he would have as he sympathetically agreed with her. Around here, I could never do anything right, or so it seemed.
I didn’t see anyone else standing around, though, willing to put up with his crap. If I didn’t need the money so badly, I’d walk out the door faster than he could blink. I was tired of the humiliation and tired of being blamed for the lines, just because he was too tight to hire on adequate staff.
I was silent as I quickly made her change. What could any person say? She was mad due to reasons of her own, something that really didn’t concern me. With one last glare, she huffed and moved on in his direction. She never made it, though.
It would have been worth the complaint and subsequent chewing out I would have received, if the events of the night just wouldn’t have happened. I would later look back on it and pray that things had ended differently. You can’t change events that are completely out of your control, though.
Even so, anything would have been preferable to that one moment when you find your reality has just been blown to pieces and would never be the same again. That’s assuming you live to survive it.
She was halfway to Jim, her teased hairdo bouncing, when it happened. A loud, panicked scream tore through the night, originating somewhere from the parking lot in front of the store. Even through the thick glass, we could hear it loudly. It sounded like someone was being murdered. I immediately stopped scanning, turning in an attempt to see what was happening.
A body slammed against the glass, his face and palms pressed to the surface. It was a horrid sight. His pupils were red and crazed, his face extremely pale and dirty. Dark red blood was smeared across his cheeks and chin. The man stood still for a moment, just watching us with his crazy eyes. Something reanimated him. He slid his palms down the clear, clean glass, leaving a trail of bloody streaks.
Life on Earth is not the only place where devastation occurs and hard
choices must be made. The Royal 4 of Kadan live in the Sonar galaxy three million light years from Earth. They travel to Earth to obtain the resources they need to give their world a fighting chance.
The mind is a complex mystery. Amnesia is a secret unknown. The role it manifests in these characters’ lives is a catastrophic cyclone.
Shiray is frantic when she is the first to find out about their true destiny and that the love of her life no longer remembers who she is. She must find a way to restore her family before all is lost. They must prevail because the fate of their planet lies in their hand.
What would you do if you had amnesia and fell in love, only to learn upon regaining your memory, that you are already married? Find out in this Electric thriller!
Excerpt:
It had been several weeks since I had retrieved my memory and still had not found out any information. Would I ever see my husband again? Would I ever see my planet again? I wondered if King Julius had gotten our distress call from the ship before it went down. If he had gotten the call, why hadn’t he sent a rescue team? A Polar must have sabotaged our ship to make it crash and given us amnesia so our mission would fail. It’s the only thing that made sense. Syira and the others must have lost their memories also, because no one had tried to contact me in all this time. I hoped Kadan hadn’t lost the war already and we weren’t too late.
I got on the computer in the living room. I was going to try again to hack into the CIA or the FBI system to find some information on our crashed ship. I was skipping school today, but my foster mother was at work, so I had plenty of time.
I couldn’t get into either system, so I went to the garage to get some wires and bolts. I was going to use my Kadanan knowledge, which I finally remembered, to rig the computer’s hardware so I could get into their systems. I sat back down and set up the wiring and bolts to the computer. Then I went back to the CIA’s website. There had to be something on the crash. I started putting in codes. It took me about five minutes, and I was in. Bingo! That was easy. I should have thought about rigging the computer sooner. I started searching through random files and then typed in unidentified object and a code mission came up. I typed in some more codes, and a file opened. It was a recording. I pushed play, and a man spoke:
Two males and one female were found two miles east of Convey Valley on May fifteenth, two thousand eleven. They had no knowledge of who they were. Is there a relationship between them and the spacecraft? There was also another female found two point five miles west of where the other three were found. She also had no knowledge of who she was. None of them had serious injuries. They were sent to Denver Methodist for a day of observation and the three found east of Convey were sent to Dempstead Foster Home. The separate female was sent to Elite Foster Care. The two males and female that were found east of Convey Valley were taken into private foster care and reside in Denver, Colorado. The female who was found alone was also taken into private foster care, and resides in Parker, Colorado. Detailed personal records of these four are being kept in a separate file for Major Compton. At this time no hostile actions have been shown by the surveillances. Special agents on Major Compton’s team have been assigned to keep watch over these surveillances to see what transpires and if there is any form of extraterritorial activity between them.
The recording ended. I should have known we were being watched. Who was this Major Compton? I continued to hack through the files. Pictures came up on the screen of our ship. They had it! The first few photos of the ship were of the original wreckage. Our ship had a large hole in the side. In the next photos of the ship it had been fixed. I couldn’t believe they were able to fix it.
We must have all been thrown out of the ship at impact, or at least I had been. I had woken up on the ground and didn’t see our ship, Bryan, or the others. The recording said I had been found in the opposite direction of the others. I was amazed we all survived. I assumed the force field surrounding the ship saved our lives and kept the ship mostly intact, except for the large hole that had been on the side. I wondered what material they used to fix it, as the metals used to create it on Kadan were not available on Earth. I hoped it would hold together in space, if it could even fly.
I remembered how sore I’d been on the day they found me, but at the time I didn’t even know why I was hurt. I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing was broken. I didn’t remember a lot from that day; it was all a blur. I remember waking up and wandering around lost. Then the police officers found me, at least that is who they told me they were. But now that I was recalling the memory, the four men had on black suits. I don’t think they were the police. They must have been CIA agents. It would make sense with all the information I was putting together.
It pissed me off we were being watched like guinea pigs. They must be in the shadows, waiting and watching for us to show signs we weren’t human.
I tried to search for an address to where Bryan was sent, but I couldn’t find one. It must have been in the other file for Mr. Compton the recording mentioned, but I wasn’t able to access it. I was so frustrated. All I had to go on was that he, Nile, and Syira had been sent to Denver.
I got out of the CIA system and did an Internet search for Denver high schools. Several came up. I would just have to start and go down the list. Cashmere High was the first one, so I would start there. I would go there during school hours and see if I could find them.
I caught the city bus the next morning to the school. When the bus got to my stop I walked up to the school. I took a deep breath and didn’t know what I would do, if I actually found Bryan. I might pass out.
As I approached the school the bell rung, and students scattered. I looked around, nervously, then walked toward the courtyard. Suddenly I heard a familiar voice. It was Syira! She was talking to some hunk. I moved a little closer; feeling relieved to see her, but would talk with her later. I wanted to find Bryan and wouldn’t be satisfied until I did.
I walked inside the school, searching different hallways. The bell rang again and there were not a lot of people in the halls. Suddenly I couldn’t move. I felt a presence behind me, and knew it was Bryan. I was almost too scared to turn around, and then heard a woman’s voice behind me. I forced myself to turn, and there he was, more gorgeous than I remembered him. He was talking with a girl and he gazed at her lovingly. This crushed my heart. Who was she? We looked so much alike. Her eyes were light green, and she was my height and petite frame. Her hair was long and wavy like mine too, except it was blond.
This pissed me off immensely. They started laughing, and I felt so jealous. Then they embraced in a tight hug. At that instance tears started streaming down my face. I turned and double-timed it down the hallway. He remembered nothing. What was I going to do? Whatever it was, I had to do it fast.
I have wanted to be an author since I was fifteen years old and grateful to have accomplished this dream. I have three wonderful children and a husband who defines the person I am today. I work full-time as an Ultrasound technologist in Sugarland, Texas.
I have very vivid dreams and a wild imagination. I like to read, watch tons of TV shows, and movies. I’m addicted to romance and get a thrill out of action and suspense. I write New Adult Fantasy, Sci-fi, and Paranormal-Romance.
In the Sonar series it was fun to explore different elements of Sci-fi romance and create various realms of powers for my characters. I want to show my readers that Sci-fi can be fun, but also traumatic. I hope you guys enjoy the Sonar Series.
Published by: Swoon Romance Publication date: December 2nd 2014
Genres: Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
Kane’s a country singer who’s tangled with too many deceitful women. He’s learned his lesson: girls are for flirting and fun; emotions are for his music. But after spending a night with an earnest woman unlike any he’s known, he can’t force her out of his mind. So he goes in search of the woman he knows only as “Elle.” On her last night in Nashville, the staunchly pragmatic Sabella found herself in a situation more suited to a romance novel than reality. Swept away, she ignored her rigidly self-imposed rules, succumbing to the fantasy just this once. But she knows real-world relationships have nothing in common with their fictionalized portrayals. When Kane unexpectedly shows up at her Portland apartment, she must choose between the practical truths she has learned and the desire for a passionate love she has struggled to suppress. Despite the distance, Kane’s tour schedule, and their meddling friends, both are drawn to the chance for a romance neither quite believes is possible.
Kane rested his forearms on the bar and bent his head down, exhaling. As always, he’d scanned the audience a few times while he played, trying to read the room’s reactions. Tonight, too many people had been absorbed in their own conversations around the bar’s simple wooden tables. Only one pair of eyes had met his. A striking, unwavering pair of eyes. She’d been standing toward the back, alone. He’d felt her watching him even when he’d closed his eyes.
But she hadn’t been standing there when he’d come back out. Probably just as well.
Cody set down a chilled beer in front of Kane. He tipped it toward the bartender as thanks. A couple drinks, a little bit of flirting, and there’d be no more need to think about his songs tonight.
Turning back toward the room, Kane bumped a girl he hadn’t noticed seated next to him at the bar. “Ah! Sorry ’bout that,” he said with a half-smile, ramping up the charm.
She twisted toward him. “I’ll survive.” The corners of her mouth pulled up, but Kane couldn’t look away from her eyes. Hazel, he realized. Unlike when he’d been on stage, her gaze fell, and she started to turn back to the bar.
“Kane,” he offered, shifting his beer to his left hand and offering up his right. A handshake. Smooth. This really was an off night.
Her eyes flicked down to his hand then laughingly back to his face. Her eyebrows drew up in a small challenge as she placed her hand in his. “Like the sugar, or the stick?”
“With a K …” He leaned back against the bar, resting on one elbow.
“So, not Abel’s brother. Good to know.”
Normally he’d have walked away at a line like that, but it wasn’t like he’d been offering conversational gold. Maybe this would help him shake it off before he made his move on the trio Cody’d pointed out. And then there were those eyes … “Go ahead and joke. I’ve probably heard them all.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Her lips curved softly. Mischief glinted in her eyes.
“And how could I do that?” Kane let himself relax, sliding back into the easy feel of the bar. Unlike his performance, this conversation didn’t really matter.
“I’m sure you have a few tricks up your sleeves.” She picked up the glass of white wine she’d been nursing and took a sip, without dropping her smile or taking her eyes off him.
A local girl would’ve been drinking beer. But then, a local girl would’ve known exactly who he was, which could lead to nothing more than a mildly satisfying romp in the sack. He remembered his own beer and took a swig.
“Worried?” he asked, after she set her glass back down.
That got him a bigger smile. “Please, I can take anything you throw at me.”
“Maybe we should test that theory.” He took another sip of beer. This was getting more and more interesting.
“By all means,” she replied, not missing a beat.
He was used to women flattering him, fawning over him. His Southern charm had rarely failed him, and as a singer, he wasn’t hurting for female attention, especially since country music wannabes thought he’d be a perfect springboard for their careers. But he hadn’t met someone who actually intrigued him in a while. Too long.
He turned to face her, leaving his elbow resting on the bar, and set down his beer. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Call me Elle,” she answered, tilting her head slightly, a silent question on the change in direction. Her eyelashes didn’t flutter with calculated coyness, and her direct gaze didn’t falter.
Kane straightened, suddenly inspired. “Pleased to meet you, Elle. Excuse me a sec?” He grabbed the bottle he’d just set down and turned away from her. Another swig and he returned to the back room. This was nothing short of crazy, but he picked up his guitar anyway and walked back to the small stage.
Excerpt 2
Sabella had barely returned to her wine when she heard the slight strumming of a guitar as someone settled in front of the microphone. She wasn’t certain what had prompted Kane to leave so abruptly, but she was definitely disappointed. Not that she was star-struck or anything. The
fact that she had dressed up to venture outside her hotel room, to the Fiddle and Steel Guitar Bar, simply because she had heard that Kane Hartridge would possibly be trying out new material at their open mic night, did not mean she was star-struck. If anything, she was underwhelmed by his song choices tonight, and even more so by her awkward attempt at flirting. Men like Kane didn’t waste their attentions on women like her.
She took another sip of the perfectly nice Riesling and silently deliberated whether she would stay past draining her glass. This bar did have a certain, inexplicably innate, country charm that she wouldn’t mind exploring and observing further. After all, she had come to Nashville to learn what she could about the culture of country music.
“Hey, guys,” Kane’s voice carried through the speaker system, quieting the room. Someone shut off the recorded music that had been playing ever since he had left the small stage, his performance intended as the finale of their open mic night. Sabella twisted on her barstool to face the stage. Kane and his guitar once again occupied the unadorned chair set behind the single microphone. His beer bottle rested just behind his leg. “Don’t mean to pull y’all away, but I have a friend in from out of town who is dyin’, she’s absolutely dyin’, to sing for you. Please join me
in welcomin’ Elle—over by the bar, there, in the purple, that’s Elle—welcomin’ her to the Fiddle an’ Steel stage.”
Most of the patrons shifted their attention toward the bar, trying to find Kane’s “friend.” Sabella froze, schooling her expression. I can take anything you throw at me, she had said. He was clearly testing her claim. What in the world had she been thinking?
“C’mon, Elle,” Kane called through the microphone. “Here’s your chance.” His mouth pulled into a half smile, intended to portray solicitous charm, no doubt, not the baiting nature of his challenge.
She took a deep breath, reminding herself she would likely never see any of these people again, and slid off the barstool. Apparently, her customarily rigid practicality had been dislodged the second he’d bumped into her. Not that he was giving her much choice.
The stage was closer than she would have preferred, but the walk over from the bar still gave Sabella plenty of time to admire Kane’s comfortable posture. He wore jeans and a faded, black, button-down shirt, with a few buttons left unfastened and rolled-up sleeves. With his brown hair cut raggedly to slightly above his ears in front, somewhat longer in back, and his stunning green eyes, he really was more handsome than any man had a right to be. Especially one who was trying to embarrass her in front of a bar full of people.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” she murmured as she took the short step onto the stage.
He covered the microphone. “Name a country duet.”
At least he wasn’t going to force her to sing alone. Still, she wasn’t exactly a country music savant. “The only one that comes to mind is ‘Picture.’” That wasn’t strictly speaking true,
but she was betting he would be even less thrilled with her choice if she had named one with Kelly Clarkson.
All Kane said was, “All right.” He shifted his chair so it wasn’t squarely facing the microphone then started to play an intro. “Not the newest song in the book, but a guilty pleasure for some of y’all, I’m sure,” he drawled, smiling at the crowd.
His voice captured her as he sang, its purity reminding her why his was the only country music to which she really listened. As she watched him, Sabella almost forgot he had manipulated her into joining him on stage—for a duet. She looked out over their somewhat captive audience, filled with men in worn-out jeans and flannel shirts—even a cowboy hat or two—and some amazingly beautiful women. Maybe this was actually a bizarre dream, and in reality she was sleeping in her hotel room, or even back home in her bed. If only.
When Kane finished the first chorus, he looked up at her in anticipation. Little crinkles appeared around his eyes. He didn’t think she would do it.
To be fair, normally she wouldn’t have. This is simply a more active form of research, she assured herself. Sticky sweat still gathered between her fingers and coated her palms. Sabella surreptitiously wiped her hands on her thighs and stepped marginally closer to the microphone.
She scrambled to remember the lyrics, staring at the floor as she sang. When no one booed by the end of the stanza, she risked a glance out at the room. About half of the tables had reverted to quiet conversation, but others appeared to be listening. At the end of her chorus, she looked over at Kane.
He was watching her, eyebrows drawn slightly together, as if he wasn’t altogether sure what he was seeing. Maybe he was shocked she was still singing, despite the blatant difference in their abilities. She had never been one for public displays of foolery, and the remaining shreds of
her rationality were appalled by the ridiculousness of her behavior. Running off the stage would be worse, though, or at the very least more memorable.
She finished their interchanging lines with her eyes on him. The last chord he strummed hung in the air until the murmuring of patrons’ conversations wiped it away. Sabella backed away from Kane and the microphone, then turned to step off the stage, and wove her way toward the hallway that led to the bar’s restrooms and a door with an “Employees Only” sign. She pressed her back to the wall for support and resolutely steadied her breathing. This night wasn’t turning out anything like she could have expected.
Excerpt 3
All too soon, the bar had nearly emptied. Kane, the paragon of Southern charm, offered to escort her back to her hotel, and Sabella found herself accepting. By then, the city that had been throbbing with music mere hours ago had fallen mostly silent.
The DoubleTree hotel where she was staying was less than a couple blocks from the Fiddle and Steel Guitar, but Kane led her on something of a detour. Sabella stifled the rational voice that insisted wandering around an unfamiliar city at night with a virtual stranger was a horrible idea. What better way to see a new city than with a local?
Kane took her first past Nashville’s City Hall. She hadn’t found it particularly interesting when she had explored the city during the day, but at night, with both the building and the fountains in front of it alight, not to mention Kane’s company and a few drinks in her, she changed her mind.
From there, he led her by the edge of the Cumberland River, doubling back past the bar, until they reached the iconic Shelby Street Bridge. As she looked out over the city, Kane stood protectively behind her, hands braced around her on the railing, sheltering her from the wind.
They hadn’t talked much since leaving the bar, but the silence felt comfortable in the night’s darkness.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, looking out over the lights of Nashville’s skyline.
“Absolutely.” His voice was low, coming from right beside her ear. He placed his hand on her arm, gently. His touch was warm through the bell sleeves of her top, and she turned to face him. All the lights of Nashville twinkled at her back, but they weren’t nearly as mesmerizing as Kane’s eyes.
She would always remember the swell of his biceps under her hands, the heat of his palms when they came to rest slightly below her waist. She looked from his eyes to his mouth a heartbeat before he kissed her.
The kiss was soft, starting with a brush of their lips and growing into a slow taste of each other. In writing it, she would have claimed time stilled, but in reality, wind whipped her hair around them, and she shivered under its onslaught.
Kane broke their kiss and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Occasionally commenting on their surroundings, he led them off the bridge, meandering through downtown, past the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Convention Center, until they reached the abstractly decorated, and intensely red, DoubleTree lobby. He kept his arm draped over her shoulders until they came to the bank of elevators.
Sabella knew they should part ways, but she didn’t want this fantasy night to end quite yet. An elderly couple joined them in the elevator, and they all remained silent. When the doors opened, she walked ahead of him to her room, remaining acutely aware of him behind her. At her door, she turned to face him, and to say goodbye.
The fingers of his right hand grazed hers as his left came up to cup her jaw.
“We should say good night,” she whispered.
“All right,” Kane breathed against her mouth before kissing her again. This time the kiss was harder, lips crushing together and tongues intertwining as if that touch would be enough to keep the two of them together. He pressed her against the door, stepping closer so virtually no space remained between them. Her hands came up, brushing through his silky hair before drifting to his shoulders. When the kiss broke, the rapid expansion of her lungs mirrored the rise and fall of his shoulders against her palms.
“Don’t leave tomorrow,” she barely heard him whisper. “Stay with me.”
“I wish I could …” she murmured sincerely. But fairy tales too often turned into nightmares in the morning.
Kane nodded, exhaled, and said, “G’night.”
“Bye,” she breathed in return. She watched him walk down the hallway, admiring his naturally fluid movement. He glanced back, and she nearly called out. Instead, she reminded herself to be sensible, certain later she’d be grateful for her strict guidelines, even though right then, she despised them.
When he turned the corner, Sabella let her head fall back against the door and shut her eyes. This was one risk she knew better than to take.
AUTHOR BIO:
Aria Glazki's writing story started when her seventh-grade English teacher encouraged her to submit a class assignment for publication. That piece was printed, and let's just say, she was hooked!
Since then, Aria has run a literary magazine, earned her degree in Creative Writing (as well as in French and Russian literatures), and been published in a few collections. Though her first kiss technically came from a bear cub, and no fairytale transformation followed, Aria still believes magic can happen when the right people come together - if they don't get in their own way, that is.
Other than all things literary, Aria loves spending time with her family, including her two unbearably adorable nieces. She also dabbles in painting, dancing, playing violin, and, given the opportunity, Epicureanism.
L. Player teaches middle and high school English in Atlanta, GA. She lives with her guitar-playing, English-teaching husband and their three crazy rescue dogs. Her last name gets about the reaction you'd expect.
