by Carol Grace
After the burgers we started driving towards his place. As we drove he pointed out Hollywood landmarks.
”Marilyn Monroe used to live on this block. And there used to be a studio in this parking lot. It’s called the phantom studio, nobody knows about it. They tore it down to build a parking lot. Can you believe that? See, a lot of these bungalow apartments were built in the twenties by the studios for their stars. They came from New York. Classic Hollywood bungalows. See that Chinese restaurant Wok of Fame? Over there. No, over there. Phil Spector’s record label used to be there. You know what, Andrew? I could never leave Hollywood. I love this place. There’s magic here, Andrew. There is magic in the air!”
”There’s definitely something in the air, Syd.”
I got him back to his apartment just in time for Britney Spears. He gave me my payment for the week and hurried inside. On the drive home it started to rain. And as I drove past the phantom studio I thought I understood what Syd was saying about Hollywood.
Read more of Andrew’s adventures in LaLa Land in his book Yellow Days at:
http://www.amazon.com/Yellow-Days-ebook/dp/B004BSGG9G/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1312861947&sr=1-1
More from Carol Grace
Return to Paradise
Rancher Parker Robinson was having one of those weeks. His cook quit and his daughter was trying her best to get expelled from boarding school. To top it off, he found a strange woman on his ranch who didn't know who she was! What he knew was that she was off limits. She could be another man's wife!
Christine couldn't remember her name or how she got to the ranch in the middle of Colorado. All she knew was that she'd landed in some kind of paradise where men were rugged and women were cherished. Somehow she had to find out who she was, where she came from and most important - was she free to love again?
http://www.amazon.com/Return-to-Paradise-ebook/dp/B004ZG8M3C/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1308684909&sr=1-3
Trouble in Paradise
Back from serving on the front line in the Middle East - cowboy Quincy McLoud comes home to find a sassy, sexy female has taken over his ranch and turned it into a resort! He'll do anything to get it back including some dirty tricks. What he can't do is fall for the new owner, gorgeous Abby, but how can he help it when she needs his expert help to tame the land. All he has to do is hold onto his hat and keep his heart safe. What are the chances?
http://www.amazon.com/Trouble-in-Paradise-ebook/dp/B0051AEHTE/ref=pd_sim_kinc_3?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2
The Prince’s Nanny
Super-Nanny Sabrina West is on her way to a choice assignment as nanny to the twin daughters of the Prince of Savoy. She's always dreamed of visiting the lake country in Italy with its shimmering waters and mountains in the distance. Now is her chance to fulfill her dreams. She can't imagine how hard her job will be working for the arrogant prince and raising his mischievous daughters. But Sabrina wins over the girls, falls in love with their father and lives happily ever after in the castle on the lake.
http://www.amazon.com/THE-PRINCES-NANNY-ebook/dp/B003LY48ZK/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1312863121&sr=1-1
Read an Excerpt from Almost Married
Chapter One
Laurie Clayton, meet your goddaughter.”
Laurie held out her arms and took from her friend Gretel the most adorable baby she’d ever seen. The baby’s little fingers tangled in Laurie’s hair and her sweet smell filled her with a bittersweet longing for a child of her own. “Oh, Gret, she’s sooo cute. A perfect angel.”
Gretel sighed. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard her crying all the way down to the airport. She’s teething and it’s been awful.” Laurie hugged the baby to her and Morgan gurgled happily. “She likes you,” Gretel said, then surveyed her friend carefully. “Still slim, gorgeous and single. How come? I thought you’d be the first to take the plunge and have a family. You like kids so much.”
“Yes, well, it’s still customary to get married first,” Laurie said ruefully. “Like you did. Like my sister did.”
Gretel nodded understanding. “You wait here with Morgan. I’ll get the car from the garage and bring it around.”
Laurie hardly noticed Gretel was gone, she was so entranced with this baby, this miracle of soft skin and round, chubby cheeks. The baby gave her a toothless smile and Laurie thought she’d landed in paradise instead of Buffalo, New York.
“I’ll let you get over your jet lag tonight,” Gretel promised as they headed out of town into the fertile farmland of upstate New York where Gretel and her husband raised apples, “but tomorrow I’m going to give you the royal tour, from the museum to the zoo and last but not least, Niagara Falls!”
“All in one day?”
Gretel laughed. “We’ve got five whole days before I join Steve in Seattle. Plenty of time to see everything and let you get to know Morgan. If you’re sure you’re still up for baby-sitting for two weeks.” Gretel shot an anxious glance at her best friend.
Laurie turned her head to smile at her goddaughter. “Of course I’m up for it,” she assured Gretel. “I can’t wait to have her all to myself. You’re right, I’ve always liked kids. And I adore Morgan already. Her pictures don’t do her justice. You don’t have to entertain me. I’ll be happy to help out around the place. With Steve gone away to school, you must need help picking apples or something.”
“We’ve got a small staff who do the year-round stuff, spraying, grafting, but during harvest a whole crew comes in to work. By that time Steve will be back to oversee the whole thing.” She turned to smile at Laurie. “I’ve been waiting for you so we can relive those carefree days when we were young and foolish, when we flew from coast to coast, flight attendants without a care in the world except which restaurant to go to and which guy to go out with. We’ll put Morgan in the back seat with her teething ring and we’ll be off.”
Laurie noticed Morgan had nodded off and was sleeping peacefully in her car seat, her pale eyelashes dusting her fair skin, her cheeks the color of her pink dress.
“We’re in apple country now,” Gretel explained, waving her hand at the green fields dotted with heavily laden fruit trees, “one of New York state’s major crops.”
Laurie tore her eyes from the sleeping child to look out the window at the acres of trees, trying to pay attention to what Gretel was saying. Young and foolish. Laurie didn’t ever want to be young and foolish again, not foolish enough to fall in love with a married pilot and foolish enough to believe him when he said he loved her.
Gretel continued her lecture on the cultivation of apples until they arrived at a cobblestone house set on a rise above the orchard. Laurie stood in the living room of the vintage structure admiring the rustic furniture, the Native American blankets hanging on the wall and the huge old fireplace while Gretel rushed to answer the ringing telephone in the kitchen.
When Gretel reappeared with Morgan in her arms, her expression was anxious and her face a shade paler than before. “That was Steve,” she said. “He’s finished his agriculture course early and wants me to come right away.”
Laurie spread her arms out, palms up. “Well, why not? I’m here. You haven’t seen him in what, six weeks? You haven’t taken a vacation together since your honeymoon. I say go for it.”
Laurie hugged her daughter to her and sat down on the couch. “You’re right, I know you’re right. It’s just that—I’ve never even left Morgan overnight before. When you offered to stay with her I was—I am so grateful. But...” Gretel’s lower lip trembled as she buried her face in her daughter’s red curls.
Laurie watched the interplay between mother and daughter and her heart filled with sympathy and a touch of envy. If things had been different, if she’d been more sensible...
“It must sound silly to you,” Gretel went on, “but you’ll understand when you have a baby of your own.”
One of her own. Laurie felt a lump form in her throat. With her luck she had small hope of having one of her own,
let alone finding a man to have a baby with. She nodded at Gretel. “I understand perfectly.”
“You’re a true friend,” Gretel said earnestly, “the best. Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you’re offering, staying with a teething baby while I fly off to take a second honeymoon. If I weren’t such a worry-wart… Come on,” Gretel said, getting to her feet. “You must be tired. I’ll show you your room. I told Steve I’d sleep on it and let him know tomorrow.”
The guest room was furnished in the same style as the rest of the house, with a handmade quilt on the antique iron bed frame and a large oak armoire against the wall. After Gretel said good-night and took the baby with her down the hall, Laurie sat on the edge of the bed, her stocking feet resting on a handwoven braid rug, and tried to stifle the feelings of envy that threatened to engulf her. A charming old house, a husband and a baby. What more could anyone want?
She shook off her unbecoming feelings and got undressed. In bed, snuggled under a fluffy comforter, Laurie told herself now that she’d quit her job with the airline and forgotten about the handsome but married pilot who’d nearly broken her heart, she had her whole life ahead of her, that anything was possible, that all her dreams could come true. But the niggling questions remained: How, When, Where and Who?
The next day Gretel called Steve back and told him she couldn’t leave so soon and she and Laurie and Morgan headed off to see the sights. Morgan was tucked safely in her car seat, gnawing happily on her teething ring. It was Gretel who didn’t look happy. Not the next day nor the day after that. No matter how interesting the pictures in the art museum or how dazzling the view of Ontario from the Peace Bridge, she was racked with indecision about when to leave.
“So, Morgan,” Laurie said one afternoon as she held the little girl in her lap and fed her applesauce. “Shall we put your mother on the next plane for Seattle before she has a chance to change her mind?” Each day Laurie found herself growing more attached to her goddaughter, and Morgan was more willing to go to Laurie when her mother was tired or busy.
Gretel gave Laurie a wry smile. “How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked.
“Intuition,” Laurie answered. “I’ve known you a long time. Longer than Morgan here. And she and I agree that it’s time for you to cut the cord. Vamoose, skeedaddle, be on your way.”
Reluctantly Gretel met Laurie’s gaze. “But we haven’t seen the Falls yet. I’ve been saving it for last. And a friend of Steve’s was going to give us a personal tour. A gorgeous guy. I wanted you to meet him.”
“Morgan and I can see the Falls on our own. We don’t need a guide, no matter how gorgeous, do we, Morgan? After we drop you at the airport, we’ll go.” Laurie put Morgan in her high chair and reached for the phone. “I’ll make the reservation for you. You’re ready. You’ve been packed for days.”
Gretel listened to Laurie and watched her write down the flight information. She didn’t say yes and she didn’t say no. She did call Steve, though, and gave him her flight number. She didn’t change her mind, but she came close. She hugged Morgan and said goodbye a dozen times. At the airport she walked down the long tunnel to the plane with one very wistful backward glance at Laurie and her daughter. Laurie smiled confidently and even Morgan waved to her mother before the plane took off.
Laurie turned to Morgan in her arms just as the baby screwed up her face into a frown and began to scream.
Chapter Two
Once in her car seat, Morgan turned bright red and flailed her arms in anger and frustration. It could have been her teeth, but Laurie suspected she was witnessing separation anxiety the likes of which she’d never imagined. And Gretel had barely left!
Laurie gripped the steering wheel tightly and wondered what to do. She realized, belatedly, that she didn’t know anything about babies except that she wanted one. Would Morgan prefer to go home or would she rather see Niagara Falls the way her mother had planned before she took off? Morgan didn’t say. She just cried as if her heart were broken.
So Laurie decided on the Falls. Maybe Morgan needed a distraction. Laurie certainly did. With one hand on the steering wheel, she reached into the glove compartment with the other for the map. Gretel had marked the route and Laurie soon saw the signs for the tollway.
Laurie kept driving and Morgan kept crying until they reached the parking lot for the viewing area of Niagara Falls. The noise of the white water was thunderous, almost loud enough to drown out Morgan’s sobs. Laurie unbuckled the baby from her seat, shoved the car keys into her pocket and grabbed Morgan’s backpack and diaper bag, all the while keeping up a line of chatter designed to soothe the child. With Morgan on her back and the diaper bag over her arm, Laurie approached the fence and gasped at the sight.
The water cascaded to a two-hundred foot drop sending a mist back up into the air. It was stunning. It was breathtaking. But not to Morgan. Her wailing reached new heights. Other tourists stopped snapping pictures of each other and looked at the baby. A man at the edge of the crowd stared at them. Probably wondering what torture Laurie was inflicting on the poor child.
“Please, Morgan,” Laurie begged under her breath. “Please don’t cry. Look at the Falls. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Laurie sank down onto a wooden bench, lifted Morgan out of the backpack and onto her lap. And Morgan continued to cry. Desperate, Laurie reached into her pocket, pulled out her car keys and rattled them in front of Morgan.
The baby stopped crying instantly, grabbed the keys out of Laurie’s hand and threw them over the fence and down into the depths of the turbulent Niagara River.
Laurie gasped, stood and looked with disbelief into the white water. “Morgan,” she breathed, “what have you done?” A better question was, what had Laurie done, handing her keys to a baby to play with?
http://www.amazon.com/Almost-Married-ebook/dp/B005DFDJ9Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1311193549&sr=1-1
Read an excerpt from Wild Mustang Man
Bridget McCloud braced her elbows against the wooden fence and held her binoculars up to her eyes. There on a hilltop, riding a wild mustang horse, was the man she was looking for—strong, virile, powerful and sexy. Unable to restrain herself, she let out a whoop of joy. She was not a bounty hunter or a desperate spinster. She was the president and owner of Bridget McCloud Advertising, about to land her first major account with the manufacturers of Wild Mustang men’s cologne.
Now that she’d found her Wild Mustang Man, nothing could stop her. She grinned to herself, wishing her administrative assistant and best friend Kate was there to share the excitement and the view. Not that she would have surrendered her binoculars. Not just yet.
Silhouetted against the blue Nevada sky, wild horse and rider moved as one. Bridget could almost hear the rhythmic fall of the hoofbeats, feel the muscles ripple under the man’s denim shirt and smell...yes, she could almost smell the tangy, masculine scent of Wild Mustang men’s cologne.
With a sigh of ecstasy, she let the binoculars fall against her chest and lifted her Nikon from its case, pressed the shutter and filled her memory card with shots of her future Mustang Man. She never saw the bicycle bearing down on her from out of nowhere. If she had she would have leaped out of the way before it plowed into her and knocked her to the ground.
The bike crashed onto the dirt road, the rider thrown to the side. Bridget staggered to her feet, dazed and bruised, head pounding. The daredevil rider, all four feet of him, was sitting in the dirt, staring at his skinned knees.
“Sorry,” he said, wide blue eyes looking up at her as she limped toward him. “Didn’t know anybody was there.”
“Same here,” she acknowledged. “But I think you got the worst of it. You or your bike,” she said, noticing the smashed spokes, the twisted handlebars. “I better take you home and get you bandaged up.”
“I am home,” he said, waving at the fields on the other side of the fence. Painfully he got to his feet, but his knees buckled and Bridget caught him in her arms before he
lost his balance again. His dusty hair tickled her nose. She felt his body stiffen like a wounded animal, before he yanked himself out of her arms. “I’m okay,” he said, his upper lip stiff with pride. But his voice shook ever so slightly. “I can crawl through the fence and be back before my dad knows I’m gone.”
Bridget frowned at his stubborn determination, more than a little concerned about the cut above his eye and the blood oozing from his knees.
“What if I crawl through the fence with you and make sure you get there?” she offered.
He shrugged his narrow shoulders, and his teeth chattered. Bridget wondered if there were more injuries than met the eye or if he was that afraid of his father. “Okay, but we gotta hurry. If my dad finds out about this he’ll have my hide.”
“What’s left of it,” Bridget muttered, giving him a worried glance as she followed him, squeezing herself through the slats in the fence.
The two of them staggered up a sagebrush-covered hill toward a sprawling ranch house, two steps forward, one step back as Bridget’s binoculars bounced against her chest, and her camera case swung back and forth from her shoulder. She began to wonder who was helping whom. The further they walked, the stronger the boy got, and the weaker Bridget felt. Oh, to be young again, she thought, as he pulled her forward, his small grubby hand in hers. Oh, to be wearing sensible shoes instead of sandals.
She wasn’t married, though she’d always thought she would be by now with a child of her own. Not a daredevil boy who raced a bike in defiance of his parents’ wishes, but a sweet obedient little girl dressed in ruffles. She sighed. Because it was not to be. She’d seen her plans for marriage and a family go down the drain this past year and was proceeding full steam ahead on the next best thing—her career. She couldn’t deny, however, that the stubby, grubby little hand in hers brought a rush of maternal and protective feelings she thought she’d successfully buried, even though she, with her bruises, was in no shape to protect anyone, especially not this tough little kid here.