by Phoebe Conn
Rafael laughed. “Yes, I will and this may very well be the only autograph I ever give. Someday it’ll be worth a fortune.” He plucked a pen from Maggie’s purse, asked for their names and signed his own with a flourish. Thrilled, the boys ran off to tell their parents.
Maggie leaned into Rafael’s embrace. “They’ll remember meeting you forever, and I can’t wait for my parents and sisters to meet you. I should call my mother right now, but I can’t think of a way to describe you.”
He whispered into her ear.
“Rafael! I can’t tell her that!”
About the Author
Always a passionate lover of books, this New York Times bestselling author first answered a call to write during her summer vacation and swiftly embarked on her own mythic journey. Her first book, Love's Elusive Flame, was a Kensington historical. Her 34th book, Where Dreams Begin, a contemporary, was a June 2011 release from Samhain and debuted at #1 on their Romantic Suspense bestseller list. With more than seven million copies in print of her historical, contemporary and futuristic books written under her own name as well as her pseudonym, Cinnamon Burke, she is as enthusiastic as ever about writing.
A native Californian, Phoebe attended the University of Arizona and California State University at Los Angeles where she earned a B.A. in Art History and an M.A. in Education. Her books have won Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Awards and a nomination for Storyteller of the Year. Her futuristic, Starfire, won a RomCom award as best Futuristic Romance of the year. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Novelists Inc., PEN, AWritersWork.com and Backlistebooks.com.
She is the proud mother of two grown sons and two adorable grandchildren, who love to have her read to them. She loves to hear from fans on Facebook, at her website: www.phoebeconn.com, or her email: [email protected]
Look for these titles by Phoebe Conn
Now Available:
Defy the World Tomatoes
Where Dreams Begin
Captive Heart
She’s a dreamer. He’s a realist. Somewhere in the middle is love—and danger.
Where Dreams Begin
© 2011 Phoebe Conn
After her husband’s death, Catherine Brooks is ready to go back to work—almost. She volunteers at a shelter for homeless teens, Lost Angel, thinking it will ease her return to the classroom. There’s nothing easy about irascible shelter manager Luke Starns, though. His cool detachment rubs her the wrong way, especially when he warns her not to get too attached. Still, the soft heart she senses beneath his stern exterior keeps her coming back—and his face pervades her thoughts.
It’s not that Luke finds Catherine’s easy charm and free spirit unappealing—quite the opposite. Life on the streets is hard, and discipline is the only ladder that’ll get and keep these kids out of trouble. He knows what it’s like to care too much, only to have the rug yanked away. He tells himself he’s simply trying to save her the same heartache.
Yet Catherine has him rethinking his approach to life. Just as he lets his guard down, though, a murderer begins stalking the mean streets near the shelter, putting everything they care about at risk. Including their lives.
Warning: This book contains a gritty setting, a serial killer in a red satin dress, and a couple who think sizzling sex is the only kind worth having.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Where Dreams Begin:
On Wednesday, Catherine visited the charity thrift shop and dropped off the clothes and shoes she and Joyce had sorted. By Thursday morning, her garden looked beautiful, and she’d run out of excuses to stay away from Lost Angel. She drove on over to Hollywood, but she was determined to avoid Luke Starns and felt certain he would do his best to avoid her.
Pam again put Catherine to work opening the mail, and when she finished, she carried the stack of new flyers over to the hall to post. She’d nearly completed the task when a slender girl in a fuzzy pink sweater and tight jeans came up to look over her shoulder. Catherine turned to smile and found the girl had the remarkable prettiness of Alice in Wonderland, with startling blue eyes and long, blonde hair.
“Hello,” Catherine greeted her. “I hope if you recognize anyone, you’ll encourage them to call home.”
The girl shrugged and slid her hands into her hip pockets. “I don’t see anyone I know.”
Like so many of the teens Catherine had seen on Friday, the girl looked painfully young. Catherine doubted she would have approached her if she hadn’t wanted to talk, but uncertain how best to initiate a conversation, she adjusted the angle of a bright pink flyer and kept quiet.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” the girl asked without glancing Catherine’s way.
“Yes, I am.” Catherine offered her name as she posted another flyer, but she had a lengthy wait before the girl responded.
“My name’s Violet. I just come here sometimes to look at the books, but I didn’t find anything good today.”
Catherine had noticed the sagging shelves which contained the center’s paperback library. “I’ve got quite a collection of paperbacks at home,” she said. “What sort of books do you like?”
Violet shrugged again. “The ones with pretty covers.” She reached out to finger the rolled corner on a faded orange flyer that had been on display for several months. “You know, the ones where there’s a couple dancing or just staring into each other’s eyes?”
“Yes. Those are romances. I love to read them too. I’ll bring in some of mine on my next visit. Do you come here often?”
Violet began to inch away. “No. Like I said, I just come by to check out the books.”
Catherine hadn’t meant to frighten Violet away, but as she turned to smile, the girl bolted for the door. When she found Luke blocking the way, she simply turned sideways and slipped by him with a hasty wave.
Luke didn’t look pleased, but as he walked toward Catherine, she couldn’t imagine what she’d done wrong this time. She inhaled deeply and vowed to hang on to her temper, regardless of how easily Luke Starns lost his. Choosing to ignore him, she admired her neat arrangement of new flyers, which was a vast improvement over the last volunteer’s haphazard posting.
Luke stopped so close to Catherine their shoulders were nearly touching. “Thanks for putting up the flyers,” he offered in a hushed whisper. “I hope Violet didn’t give you any trouble.”
It hadn’t even occurred to Catherine that Luke could have been annoyed with Violet rather than her. Feeling very foolish, she forced a smile. “Why no. We merely exchanged a few words about books, and I offered to bring in some of mine.”
“Oh, great. Come on. I’ll walk you back to the office.” Luke grabbed the stapler off the adjacent table and gestured for Catherine to precede him.
Catherine moved toward the door with a purposeful stride, but even then she felt as though Luke were rushing her. “Is there something wrong?” she asked as they moved out into the courtyard.
Luke caught her arm and with a gentle tug pulled her to a halt while they were still out in the open. “I’m positive that during the orientation I stressed that we never make promises we can’t keep. That goes for something as simple as a few used books.”
His chambray shirt had been faded by a hundred washings, but there was nothing soft in his manner, and Catherine found it difficult to look at him. Fortunately, the stone courtyard possessed the tranquility of a cloister, leading her to believe the dull gray granite probably possessed greater warmth than Luke ever did.
“If I tell someone I’ll bring in a few used books, or a bucket of dirt, for that matter, I’ll follow through,” she insisted. “It’s a shame you’ve apparently been disappointed in your other volunteers, but I always keep my word.”
Catherine took pride in how positive she sounded, but in truth, she was deeply offended. “Violet is little more than a lovely child. Do you honestly believe that I’d disappoint her?”
Luke swore under his breath. “You mustn’t allow yourself to become attached to any of the
kids, and that goes double for Violet Simms.”
He paused to make certain he had Catherine’s full attention. “Violet’s father abused her sexually while her mother pretended not to know about it. Violet left home as soon as other men began to notice her. Now she’s living with a mechanic who calls himself Ford Dolan. That son of a bitch is as bad as her father, and she comes in here more often than not with a black eye.”
“Can’t you have him arrested?” Catherine asked.
“There’s no point in it when Violet won’t swear out a complaint against him. Don’t encourage her to depend on you for books or anything else, Catherine, because she’ll surely break your heart.”
Catherine’s heart was already broken, but despite the lack of risk, she couldn’t agree. “I’m sorry to argue with you again, but I truly believe it’s imperative for these kids to know someone cares about them.”
Luke kept his voice low, but it failed to disguise his irritation. “I didn’t say I didn’t care. If I didn’t give a damn, I wouldn’t be here, but there’s an enormous difference between a professional offering effective guidance and a misguided volunteer creating more harm than good.”
Catherine didn’t understand how the man could be so incredibly dense. “I’m not trying to challenge your authority here, Dr. Starns. Do you have an objection to volunteers donating paperback books for your library?”
“No,” Luke snorted. “Of course, not.”
Catherine waited for him to realize how senseless their latest argument truly was. With his only child dead and his wife gone, she could easily understand why he’d walled up his heart, but she had no desire to emulate his chilling example.
“Are you seeing a therapist yourself?” she asked.
“That’s none of your damn business, Mrs. Brooks.”
Luke left Catherine standing in the middle of the courtyard and entered the office alone, but she wasn’t ashamed to have asked the question. He might have the professional credentials to run Lost Angel, but she considered him pathetically lacking in empathy.
The cloudless sky was the same vivid blue as Violet’s eyes, and she stood there a long moment simply to enjoy it. The frantic flight of a hummingbird drew her attention to the honeysuckle growing up the side of the granite church. Since Sam’s death, she’d learned to treasure such sweet distractions, and she took it as an omen that any kindness she showed Violet, or anyone else at Lost Angel, would bring only good results.
It wasn’t until that evening when she’d sunk down into a hot bubble bath that she recalled the slight break in Luke’s voice as he’d spoken her first name. There’d been a whisper of hurt in that instant, but if she wasn’t mistaken, there’d also been a husky hint of desire.
Loving him could be an adventure that gets her killed.
Defy the World Tomatoes
© 2010 Phoebe Conn
Darcy MacLeod’s Army brat childhood drives her to sink roots as deep as the plants with which she works. As part owner of a nursery/gift shop in Monarch Bay, she’s well on her way to her dream. Though she’s haunted by the lingering fear that her one chance for true love has come and gone.
When Griffin Moore asks her to landscape his sumptuous new estate, she’s entranced by the internationally renowned pianist’s air of mystery. Yet as she is inexorably drawn into his bed, her instincts tell her that secrets lurk behind his sophisticated mask.
With her carelessly styled hair, grubby overalls, and hands that see more dirt than an earthworm, Griffin finds Darcy a refreshing ray of light in his shadowy world. His globe-trotting concert schedule makes him the perfect Interpol informant—and makes a permanent relationship too dangerous to risk.
Their passion rivals the music of the great classical masters, but even as Darcy dips a toe into Griffin’s extravagant world, darkness reaches out to strike a dangerous chord. And Darcy must fight to keep her second chance at love—and her lover—alive.
Warning: Contains meddling friends, high adventure, down and dirty sex, and a couple who make beautiful music together—in bed and out.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Defy the World Tomatoes:
Griffin waited for Darcy in his driveway. “I don’t mean to shock you, but unlike most men, I actually enjoy reading directions. Let’s go on out to the terrace. I’ll read the notes with the diagrams, and you can assemble the kite. It’s shaped like a dragon with a long, notched tail. It’s very colorful. I hope you like it.”
“It’s your kite,” Darcy reminded him, but when he pulled it out of the package, she couldn’t help but be impressed. “Start reading, I want to see this thing in the air.”
“First we have to unroll it.”
“All right, I’ll hold the tip of the tail while you walk backwards, and that ought to do it.”
“Hey, I thought I was giving the directions here.”
“Sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Darcy promised.
“Well, not all the time, I hope.” Griffin soon had the dragon stretched out across the terrace. He checked the directions again and sorted through the accompanying dowels. “These go in the head and wings. Do you see the slots that hold them?”
“Slots?” The dragon was red and breathing orange flames. Darcy felt along the sides. “They’ve got to be here somewhere. This is your kite, after all. Why don’t I read the directions while you attach the dowels?”
“Don’t complicate things. Just get busy.”
Darcy raised a hand. “Let me see that diagram.”
Griffin stepped beyond her reach and hid it behind his back. “Come and get it.”
“No way. You’re the one who wants to build the kite, remember?”
“An excellent point.” Giving in, Griffin knelt beside her. “Maybe they didn’t sew this one together correctly at the factory.”
He was mere inches away and studying the kite’s construction rather than tormenting her. His lashes made shadows on his cheeks, and he was quite appealing when he was in a playful mood, but none of it seemed real to her. It was all just a trick, and he probably wouldn’t stop until he’d convinced her that she actually wanted to move Defy the World clear out of town.
Then she grew curious. “Why do you need a recording studio if you’ve stopped rehearsing?”
“Later. Here we are, the slots open on the other side. Hand me the first dowel.”
Darcy slapped it into his hand. “Tell me.”
“Let’s get the kite in the air first.” Griffin slid in the dowels, then attached the string. He stood and shook out the kite, then looked up at the cloudless sky.
“Is there some trick to getting this thing in the air?” he asked.
“You’ve never flown a kite?” Darcy stood and moved out of his way.
“I began playing the piano at five and just looked up a couple of months ago. There’s a whole lot I’ve missed, including the art of kite flying.”
Darcy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she imagined he must have been a very serious little boy indeed. “You need to run while you let out the string, and the wind will carry it aloft for you.”
Griffin looked around to judge the distance. “If I stay on the terrace, I shouldn’t be in any danger of falling off the bluff.”
“Go for it,” Darcy encouraged. She watched him cross the terrace in an easy lope and when he turned back into the breeze, the kite bounced upward. “That’s it, just let out the string.”
Griffin fumbled with the reel, then caught it and laughed when the kite rose steadily into the air. The wind whipped the dragon’s long tail and serrated wings, pushing it higher. “Wow, it looks like a real dragon, doesn’t it?” he shouted.
“It sure does. Now just move back a little and keep letting out more string.” She raised her hand to shade her eyes, then walked across the terrace to where she could observe Griffin as well as the brightly colored kite.
She remembered the kids who had played in the high school band as being rather nerdy. Not that she’d been Miss Popularity, but at lea
st she hadn’t always had her nose in a book. With Griffin’s looks, no one would have ever called him a nerd, but it saddened her to think he must have missed out on a lot of the fun of growing up.
“Is this all there is to it?” he asked.
“Not really. The wind can shift and send a kite right into the ground, or into a tree. The power lines are buried underground up here, but usually they pose a threat too. Then, if there are others flying kites, your string can become tangled in theirs and send both kites plunging to earth.
“Depending on the wind conditions, flying a kite can be frustrating, or like today, just plain fun. Let it go up as high as you’d like, but remember you’ll have to rewind all the string when you bring it down.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Why don’t you come here and try it?”
Here we go, Darcy thought, but the prospect of having him wrapped around her wasn’t all that unappealing. She moved to his side and gradually took control of the string. To her infinite dismay, however, he stepped back out of her way.
“Now, tell me why you need a studio,” she prompted, as much to distract herself as to discover his intentions.
Griffin moved up behind her and began to rub her shoulders. “You look rather stiff. Does this feel good?”
His touch was light but sure and incredibly soothing. “Christy Joy said you’d have great hands.”
“Did she?” Griffin chuckled.
Darcy hadn’t meant to pay the compliment out loud. “Please don’t tell her I said that.”
“I’m going to be tempted, but maybe we can work out something.”
“Do you expect a bribe?” Darcy felt a strong tug on the string and released a bit more. The kite was way out over the bluff now and dancing against the sun.
Griffin leaned down and nibbled her right ear. “Stay for dinner. I bought a roasted chicken. You eat those, don’t you?”