It was crazy, fun, emotional love-making that symbolized the entire month. I wanted to leave with that as our last memory.
So, I slipped out of bed and tucked his t-shirt into my carryon. No reason I couldn’t have it as a keepsake. Besides, it smelled wonderfully of Alec. I grabbed the entire bag and took a shower in the bathroom below. When I made my way into the kitchen it was just before five a.m. The cab would be here in twenty minutes. I had a seven a.m. flight to Vegas.
I pulled out my special stationary and a pen. It was that time.
Alec, my beloved Frenchman -
I’m sorry to leave you like this, but it’s best if your last memory is of us making love. Because that’s what it was, making love. I should have said it to you yesterday. I don’t know why I didn’t. I do, you know? Love you, Alec. In our way. The best way. As friends, as lovers, as two people who were destined to love one another for the time we had.
I’ll always remember our time together. You taught me about all kinds of love, and the way you see it is special. It will stay with me all the days of my life. Through you and your art, I was able to see how a loving relationship could be if both partners are completely honest. You never lied, never led me on, you always told the truth. And for that, I am so grateful.
This experience, being your muse, it is something I never dreamed would change me. But it did. You did. For the better.
Thank you, Alec, for showing me that it is okay to love, to give love freely and accept the love given to me, even if it’s for a short time.
Je t’aime. Au revoir.
~Mia
I kissed the page near my name and left the note by the coffee pot. Forcing myself to walk out the door and not rush up the stairs to have one last look. Instead, I pressed the button for the elevator and met my cab at the lobby door.
***
The airport was packed. Once I’d gotten through the security rigmarole I found my gate and just barely made my plane. I sat down and hefted my purse in my lap. My phone buzzed in the front pocket. I pulled it out and felt an envelope. My heart started thumping, pounding deep in my chest, thinking maybe the call was from Alec. I read the cell display.
From: Ginelle Harper
To: Mia Saunders
Can’t wait to see your ugly mug. Now Mads is yelling at me for calling you ugly. Sorry, skank. ;-)
I laughed, put the phone in airplane mode and then flipped over the envelope. Across the front was my name scrawled in an elegant slanted penmanship. Only it wasn’t my name, it was what he called me. “Ma jolie.” My pretty, in French. I miss it already. The phrase spilling from his bowed lips in the morning, his hair a messy tumble on the pillow.
Shaking my head took the pressure off the simmering emotions threatening to explode in a deluge of tears. I opened the envelope and pulled out a card. It was a replica of a painting, one of his actually. A town in France that he’d painted at some point and had been made into greeting cards. It was as funny as it was sweet. Egomaniac.
I opened the card and out spilled a handful of pictures. Photos of the paintings along with the one of us he’d taken himself. The selfie I’d made fun of him for. I was holding his face and kissing the daylights out of him. Strands of his hair had escaped the bun and mine were flowing wildly as we kissed. The sun shined down perfectly on us. I held the picture to my chest and let the tears fall. I would miss my Frenchie. Very much.
The last photo was a copy of me, the one he’d aptly named “Goodbye, love.” It was the perfect ending to a beautiful month. He didn’t write anything in the card. His pictures said all that needed to be said.
Like Wes, I’d never forget my time with Alec. I’d cherish those memories as a part of my life wherein I truly lived and loved.
I sifted through the emails about my new client sent from Aunt Millie. I clicked on the picture icon. Holy moly. Another hottie. This was one definitely Italian. As in, Italian stallion. Where does she come up with these guys, Hotties-R-Us? Anthony “Tony” Fasano was thirty-one, an ex-boxer, which was the picture I looked at. The man’s body looked like it had been cut from tanned marble. His skin was olive-toned, hair jet black like mine, but his eyes where a steely blue. He wasn’t as tall as I usually liked my men, only around five-foot eleven, but what he lacked in height he well made up for in raw male beauty.
Based on the picture of him standing and holding a boxing belt of some kind, he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. How is that possible? He owned a giant chain of Italian restaurants. That food is not known for being low cal. Maybe it was an old picture? Like Millie said, it didn’t really matter why he needed me. He just did. And I’d pretend to be his fiancée. God only knows why. A man like that, women would drop at his feet and worship for a chance to marry a rich good looking guy. Could be the same type of issue Wes had or maybe it’s just too many hoochies, not enough girl next door types.
Oh well. A few days in Vegas and I’d be off to see Anthony Fasano of Chicago, Illinois.
Bring on the windy city.
Mia’s journey continues in March (Calendar Girl).
Excerpt from March: Calendar Girl (Book 3)
The housekeeper that let me in brought me through the Penthouse apartment and beyond a set of double doors at the end of a spacious home on the fortieth floor. The elevator felt like an amusement park ride it took so long to get to the top. I’d bet good money the view was impressive.
Distractedly, the man set my bag on a padded bench in front of a monster sized bed, turned around and disappeared. That’s when I heard the sound of rushing water. Someone was taking a shower.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
That was the last thing I needed. To meet my new client when he was naked. I clenched a hand around the strap of my purse and planned to make a hasty exit when the door opened. A large form emerged from a wall of steam. The lighting around his silhouette created an ethereal picture that could feature very easily on the big screen. It stopped me dead in my tracks, held aback by the force of sheer wonder.
That’s when my client, entered the room, clad only in a small towel precariously dangling from his hips. Water droplets streamed down every scintillating inch of his muscular frame. My mouth went dry and my heart might have actually stopped beating. It was okay, for I decided right then and there it would have been a good way to go. Basically, in my twenty four years, I’d finally seen perfection in all its naked glory.
“Holy mother of God.” I was quite certain that drool may have slid over my lip and down my chin. Wes and Alec were something to write home about. And I did. Often. To Ginelle, who poured over ever letter. Anthony Fasano on the other hand was beyond the realm of female comprehension. He was massive. A brick house. Based on what I could see of his thighs peeking from under the towel, they were the size of tree trunks. Square pecs and rectangular muscle cut like a graph along his chest and abdomen. And the arms...I couldn’t even think straight for how much I wanted to touch those arms. Have them hold me close, wrap around me. Make all the hurt of the last two months go away.
Anthony’s ebony hair was slicked back, water dripped from the longer layers, and fell onto the widest shoulders I’d ever seen. And I’ve seen my fair share of naked hot guys. This guy, was ripped, and not in that gross body builder way where the muscles bulged and veins stuck out of the skin like ropes. No, he was in a league of his own. I knew he was a boxer and had seen a picture of him in his boxing shorts but that paled in comparison to the real deal. Holy shit was he the real deal. More like a handful of aces.
I licked my lips and stared, allowing my purse to drop to the bench near the foot of the bed. The “Body God’s” gaze traced my form from top to bottom. He leaned into the doorframe on one rounded, strong looking shoulder and let the towel he was holding hook around his neck. Then he crossed those forearms over his chest. Oh man, I wish he hadn’t done that. Instantly my sexy feelers flared and I had to slow my breathing in order not to pass out at the sheer male perfection before me.
Purchase March
: Calendar Girl (Book 3) today!
Books and Coming Soon by Audrey Carlan
The Falling Series
Angel Falling
London Falling
Justice Falling
Trinity Trilogy
Body (Book 1)
Mind (Book 2)
Soul (Book 3 - Estimated Release 3/29/15)
Calendar Girl Serial
(A twelve month serial. New installments will be released every month throughout 2015)
January (Book 1)
February (Book 2)
March (Book 3 - Estimated Release 3/17/2015)
April (Book 4 - Estimated Release 4/2015)
May (Book 5 - Estimated Release 5/2015)
June (Book 6 - Estimated Release 6/2015)
July (Book 7 - Estimated Release 7/2015)
August (Book 8 - Estimated Release 8/2015)
September (Book 9 - Estimated Release 9/2015)
October (Book 10 - Estimated Release 10/2015)
November (Book 11 - Estimated Release 11/2015)
December (Book 12 - Estimated Release 12/2015)
Acknowledgements
To my critique partner, Sarah Saunders, not only are you the world’s best critique partner ever, you make me want to work harder, be a better author. Thank you for your commitment to me. I feel as though I get better with every book and you’re a huge part of that.
To my editor Ekatarina Sayanova with Red Quill Editing, LLC, for ripping this installment into shreds so that I could learn under your tutelage. Red Quill Editing, LLC is presently accepting new clients. (www.redquillediting.net)
Any author knows they aren’t worth their weight unless their story is backed by badass betas. I have the best!
Jeananna Goodall - This book is dedicated to you because you mean the world to me. I wanted to give you something special to show you how very special you are to me. Thank you for sticking with me through all these books. I’m very grateful to have you as part of my team.
Ginelle Blanch - You find major errors that are missed reminding me that no matter how my writing improves, or how in-depth the editing process is, I’ll forever need betas like you to prevent me from looking like an idiot! I wish I had your eagle eye but will settle for the beauty of having you on my beta team.
Anita Shofner - Still the reigning present and past tense QUEEN. With you on the job, not only do I get a class act English major beta read, but you ensure that the tiny words in-between don’t screw up my prose. Every author needs a beta like you…but they can’t have you! You’re mine!
Christine Benoit - Thank you for beta reading and verifying that my French was accurate and said what I’d wanted it to say. Your language is beautiful. I very much enjoyed adding it into my book.
Carol Ray - Thank you for being a lovely pre-reader and cheering me all the way through each chapter. Love you lady!
To Give Me Books and Kylie McDermott for spreading this book far and wide into the virtual social world! With you and your team of awesome ladies, I don’t think January would have hit best seller. Thank you for believing in my books and sharing them with your amazing fans. I adore you all.
To the Audrey Carlan Street Team of wicked hot Angels, together we change the world. One book at a time. BESOS-4-LIFE lovely ladies.
Reference Credit: Witold’s Poem that was inked on character Alec Dubois was written by Jacques Prévert, French writer (1900-1977). Poem quoted directly from http://www.witoldk.com/sites/prevert.html.
About Audrey Carlan
Audrey Carlan is a multiple times Amazon bestselling author. She lives in the sunny California Valley two hours away from the city, the beach, the mountains and the precious…the vineyards. She has been married to the love of her life for over a decade and has two young children that live up to their title of “Monster Madness” on daily basis. When she’s not writing wickedly hot romances, doing yoga, or sipping wine with her “soul sisters”, she can be found with her nose stuck in book or her Kindle. A hot, smutty, romantic book to be exact!
Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated and feeds the soul. You can contact Audrey below:
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorAudreyCarlan
Website: www.audreycarlan.com
Twitter: @AudreyCarlan
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7831156.Audrey_Carlan
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Excerpt from March: Calendar Girl (Book 3)
Books and Coming Soon by Audrey Carlan
Acknowledgements
About Audrey Carlan
February (Calendar Girl Book 2) Page 10