by Bishop, Ally
“What’s wrong?”
“I just…I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, no. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Fin, you talk about shit, even when you don’t want to. Spill.”
I roll my eyes, inwardly cursing her red-haired love, even if he’s right. “I’m uncomfortable with what happened. It’s…disconcerting, I guess.” I stumble through the words, not sure how to describe the heavy weight that’s centered on my lungs.
“Okay. I admit, it’s definitely outside of your comfort zone. And you went over and above what they were expecting. I got to see some of the raw video while you were in makeup—most people just kissed for a bit and called it a day. You and Kai…that was something.”
Given my sister’s previous career and her love of sex clubs, she’s seen plenty of sensual public displays. So if she thinks what happened between me and Kai was hot…
“Great. It’s worse than I thought.”
“Whoa. Where’s this coming from?” Lux stares at me, her perfectly arched eyebrows drawn together. “There’s nothing wrong with what you did. You had some fun. Blew off some steam. Enjoyed a very steamy make-out session with a delicious man—did you hear his drop-dead sexy voice? That deep timbre? Dear God. It’s amazing women don’t throw panties at him everywhere he goes.”
Despite my angst, I can’t help the grin that tugs at my mouth.
“You, dear sister, need to let your hair down more often.” She fingers one of my loose curls, tossing it over my shoulder. “You spend too much time worrying about other women’s sex lives, and not enough about your own.”
I can’t argue her there. “Maybe. But can we talk about something else? Like what we’re doing today?”
“Aren’t we supposed to be shopping?”
I’m not in the mood. “I have more clothing than any one person should own, and my shoe collection might need its own closet soon. Let’s go for a movie instead.”
Lux shrugs. “Works for me.”
We opt for Taylor Made, a new action/romance film starring the hunky mega-star Mick Jeffries—whom Lux actually knows, no doubt courtesy of living in New York City. But the darkness of the theater serves only to insulate me with my thoughts. Lux might be right: it has been too long since I dated and had some fun. How can I, though, when something like today nearly paralyzes me with self-recrimination? Despite my confusing emotions, my mind won’t stop replaying this morning’s kisses…or the heat of Kai’s gaze as he looked at me. When was the last time I felt that desired? And he definitely wanted more—hadn’t he said as much afterwards? Or maybe he was just being a flirt?
Lux drops the popcorn in my lap. “Stop thinking so hard. I can hardly hear the movie,” she growls at me in a hushed tone.
I make a face but shove a handful of popcorn in my mouth, trying to recenter my attention on the romantic tension weaving between exploding Greyhounds and racing eighteen wheelers in front of me.
But my thoughts keeps drifting back to golden eyes that sought mine so deeply, I could’ve gotten lost in them for hours.
Want more Tracing the Lines?
Sign up to get the latest details on the August 2015 release, a chance to win a FREE copy!
Acknowledgements
These are always the most intimidating pages to craft—perhaps even more so than the story!
Crossing the Line exists because of Lux and Fin from Inside the Lines. But the inspiration for this story came from all the writers around me who’ve helped me work through ideas and directions.
To my readers: we exist for you. Every decision we make is in some way influenced by your input—whether it be directly through reviews on our previous work, or the comments and recommendations you give to your friends. I made a tough choice in this book because I wanted to honor the genre you love—and I’m glad I did. As an author, my job is to tell a story you will adore, and I hope I was able to do so. Thank YOU for giving my stories a chance.
Many thanks to Rachel Borene for her hilarious commentary and encouragement. I’m sticking with the whole trolls from space erotica. This could totally be a thing.
Jane, who always thinks my writing is awesome and is the only person I let read it raw. You know I love you.
William Galaini (go buy his book!), who is always quick to make me laugh and actually read my first book. It’s okay, my man, you’re not required to read this one. Of course, I did put you in the acknowledgements, so… And next time, hit the damn pause button. That dragon isn’t going anywhere. And go for Blondie. Trust me—you’ll be glad you did.
Mike McNeff, who offers his criminal justice knowledge without hesitation, and I’m very thankful for it.
Patricia D. Eddy for her constant FB support and being prepared to discuss the importance of various and sundry things, like sexual positions, kinks, and debates over erotica vs. sexy romance. If we die, my friend, we need to make sure our FB conversations can never be unearthed. There’s no gift like having an editor and friend who gets you, and I will never take that for granted.
Audrey Maddox, who never tires of listening to me drone about plotlines—or maybe she does. But she never says a word. You couldn’t ask for a better bestie. Love you always, brave woman.
David McDonald, who offers his wisdom and humor to keep me going when I really don’t feel like it. Writers are the best, and you are a true soul. Love you.
William D., lover of my heart and soul. You’re the best, babe. More than I can promise.
Ally Bishop, Author
When you do something effortlessly and people commend you continuously, you have found your gift.
That’s what I tell people all the time. And it’s true.
I get story. I always have. I started writing when I was 8 on a Smith Corona (the electronic kind — I’m not THAT old). I wrote stories in every spiral notebook I had. Eventually, I graduated to a Mac (yes, I’m one of THOSE people). I imagined new worlds, emotional conflicts, and HEAs while I waited at stoplights or wandered the grocery store. But here’s the thing: I didn’t just dream it up and write it down — I critiqued what I read. I knew when ideas were good, and when they stunk. I ran writing groups, judged creative contests, and eventually got two graduate degrees in writing. That’s right: I love it that much.
So here I am, years later, writing kickass heroines and devastating good guys, along with some mystery and vampires thrown in (I promise: THEY’RE COMING). And what’s really cool? I do what I love. Wanna write a success story for your life: I promise you, that’s it. Do what you love. And hopefully, you can make a living at it too. That’s the golden ticket, Charlie.
And chocolate doesn’t hurt, either…
Find me at www.allybishop.com, on Twitter (@allyabishop), and Facebook (Ally Bishop, Writer), and feel free to email me via my website (look for the “Contact” tab!)
Thank you so much for reading Crossing the Line! If you have a moment, please leave a review on your favorite book websites.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Free Reads
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Sneak Peek
Sneak Peek 2
Acknowledgements
Author Page
nter>