Outside The Lines:: Third Person Narration
Page 18
It was tough, maintaining a position atop a social pile in a swamp, but we MacInnee’s were strong that way.
Some might say being at the top of the social pile in Dodge Run wasn’t saying a whole lot. I’d have to agree. But I didn’t have anything else to go on, so I went on that. It was sort of like driving on fumes; what else are you going to do?
Today, though, I was reminded, forcefully, of the few times I had got spun up, when I’d felt the tight weave of my self-control loosening. The list began and ended with Finn Dante. He was like dangerous bookends to my errors of judgment.
As a kid, I’d stayed away because I had a brain in my head and a reputation to uphold. There were warnings about the Dante boys, big bad warnings.
“Nothing but trouble, those Dante boys,” Mother told me when I was twelve. “You stay away.”
“I will,” I'd promised, my skin prickling.
“They do things to women, the Dante men,” my friend Emily had said. Calling the teenage offspring of local pawn shop owner Earl Dante ‘men’ was a bit of a stretch, but at thirteen, Emily had been more wise in the ways of men than I am to this day, so I went with it.
“Things?” I'd whispered back, even though Emily hadn’t been whispering. “What kind of things?”
Emily smiled. “Bad things. Bad boy things.”
My whole body had lit up. It scared me half to death. If the Dante boys could do that to a girl simply by being mentioned in a conversation, well.... I’d yanked down my shirt and stayed away.
Far, far away.
Pretty much.
Until fate threw us together at Emily's fourteenth birthday party. A disco ball spun overhead, and one by one each boy was blindfolded, the girls kissed him on the cheek, and he had to guess who.
So when the youngest Dante boy, fourteen year old Finn, was coaxed down into the chair, when the black bandana went around his blue eyes, when my body started sparking (What kind of bad things?) I darted forward before the others and kissed him not on his cheek but square on the mouth, ducking away before he could grab hold of my wrist, but not before I felt the tip of his tongue press against my lips.
The room exploded in laughter as I tripped backward, melting into the circle of kids, my heart pounding, my head spinning. He slid off the bandana and looked around, his blue eyes settling on me, his small smile curving up. Then he’d said, “Ruthie,” dead wrong about which crazy girl had kissed him on the lips.
Except he wasn’t wrong. The room was laughing, the girls were making him put the bandanna back on, but he never looked away from me.
He knew exactly who’d kissed him.
And he’d tried to kiss me back.
My belly slid on a roller coaster. My whole body was fluttery, chilled and wobbling. The moment his eyes were covered again, I bolted from that room and Emily’s house and vowed to never look at him again.
I didn't, either.
Pretty much….
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More Danger books...
Johnny and Juliette's story isn't done yet!
Out of His System (#2)
Johnny wants more–and less–than Juliette's willing to offer. He wants to hire her, and sleep with her, in any order that makes her happy. But he's not interested in anything more. Anything that involves his heart.
But Juliette already knows her heart is at risk, and she doesn't trust she can handle the heartache when Johnny does what Johnny always does: be cool and perfect and keep moving on.
But she has learned one thing from their previous, scorching encounter at the Destiny Falls ski resort: her goal of getting a life was way too ambitious. It landed her in Johnny's lap. Literally. (And in his bed. And up against a plate glass window. And on her knees….)
So this time, after she wraps up a particularly tough, and lucrative, case, she decides to ditch 'Get A Life' as her motto. 'Have Some Fun' becomes good enough. And forget the snow. She's going somewhere hot and sunny with lots of sand. Take a few good books, her sunglasses, a few bathing suits; what else does she need?
She definitely needs Johnny not to show up on the beach, casting shadows over her body and her client and making her body hum. But that's what Johnny does, and unfortunately, Juliette wants it, bad.
Maybe this time, she tells herself, a little fun is good enough.
It sure is for Johnny. Because Juliette is like a magnet for him; he can't turn her off. So when the client he quietly referred her way starts having problems, Johnny's amped up and ready to zero in on her. And when Juliette suggests they have a little fun, no strings attached, he's ready, once and for all, to get her out of his system.
But that's not how it works. Because the connection between them is a live wire, and neither of them seems capable of turning it off. And in the end, Juliette finds the answer isn’t about trusting herself at all.
It's about trusting the man who's capable of crushing her in every way: Johnny Danger.
…And more Destiny Falls books!
Nothing But Trouble
If Nick Murphy wanted proof he'd escaped the trash heap of his past, the high-end pawn business he and his partner have built into a multi-million dollar business is as good as it gets. Proof you can leave anything behind.
Now he keeps his life simple: no drama, no gunfire, no criminals. He just wants to make money. And be left alone. He's really good at both.
Returning on a hot summer's day from a weekend rock climbing trip, he only wants one thing: the painting that secures a six-figure, short-term loan his company has already dispensed to a long-standing, pain-in-the-ass client several days ago. It's a simple task. Just pick up the painting and go.
Unfortunately, there's a woman standing in his way. Literally.
Cassidy is just trying to do her job, which is hard enough, being a woman named Cassidy trying to make it in the high-pressure world of accounting for the rich and famous. She has no intention of failing, and absolutely no intention of letting the charming, dangerous-looking guy who shows up on the doorstep of her clients' house at seven p.m. on a Saturday night walk off with one of her clients' Renoirs.
Unfortunately, the handsome, hard-eyed guy in the dirty jeans has no intention of leaving without it.
Things devolve rapidly, and explosively, and when it's all done, Cass finds herself on the wrong side of the law and, worse, the wrong side of her client. Her boss is not amused. He demands she make it right. Her clients demand she make amends.
And Nick Murphy, pissed off and thoroughly aroused, demands a date. Then he'll do what she wants. He'll help make things right. He'll push her limits and push her buttons and unleash a scorching passion that leaves them both burned and wary. And wanting more.
But despite Nick's promises, nothing's going to go right, not for Cass and soon, not for Nick, because Cass has a way of uncovering trouble everywhere she goes. Trouble for Nick, trouble for their high-powered client, trouble for a whole lot of dangerous people.
And one day, Nick's going to have to face a lot of old demons to save Cass. And just maybe, save himself too.
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Here’s some sexy romantic suspense from Rachel Grant!
Excerpt from
Withholding Evidence
By Rachel Grant
Trina took a deep breath and held out her hand. “Mr. Hatcher, Trina Sorensen, historian with Naval History and Heritage Command. I’d like to ask you a few questions about Somalia.” She cringed as she said the last part. Too perky. Too eager. That was not how to approach a former navy SEAL when asking about a mission.
Sporting tousled dark hair that suggested he may have just gotten out of bed, and wearing low-rise jeans and nothing else, he leaned an impressive bare bicep against the doorframe and raised a quizzical thick eyebrow. “Trina? Cute name.” He smiled. “It fits.” He reached out and touched the top of her head. “But I think you should go back to the day care
center you escaped from and leave me alone.” He stepped back, and the door slammed shut.
She jolted back a step. He did not just pat her on the head and slam the door in her face.
Except that was exactly what Senior Chief Petty Officer Keith Hatcher had done.
She was aware she looked young, but dammit, she was thirty-one freaking years old—the same age as Hatcher. In fact, she was a few weeks older than him. She squared her shoulders and rang the bell again.
Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. She pounded with the side of her fist.
Finally the door opened. “Yes?” He leaned against the doorjamb again, this time stretching out an arm to touch the hinged side of the opening. His body language conveyed amusement mixed with annoyance.
“Senior Chief, I’m Dr. Trina Sorensen”—she never referred to herself with the pretentious title of doctor, but figured his crack about day care warranted it—“and I’m researching your SEAL team’s work in Somalia five years ago for Naval History and Heritage Command and the Pentagon. You must answer my questions.”
“Dollface, it’s Sunday morning. The only thing I must do today is jack off.”
She crossed her arms. “Fine. I can wait. It’ll be what, one, maybe two minutes?”
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And some fun, sexy contemporary romance by Kam McKellar, MAD ABOUT PLAID
….Lucy passed through the large double doors and stopped just inside to admire the enormous library. A fire in the hearth lit wall-to-wall bookcases. Leather couches and wide chairs made comfortable reading areas, and near the window was a large desk. And behind it, facing her, sat a man.
Surprise caught in her throat.
She hadn't expected to find anyone room and then that actual someone being so . . . attractive. Well, she'd found her Scottish hunk, hadn't she? And he was watching her with a steady, intense gaze.
Oh, boy.
"Feel free to borrow whatever you like," he said in a deep tone that held a faint Scottish brogue.
Something in his voice jarred her memory. Her eyes narrowed. "And you are?"
As he stood, she half expected him to keep growing. He was tall. And built. And she was a sucker for dark hair, blue eyes, and a nice five o'clock shadow. That stubble and those wicked looking eyes gave him a bad boy—a very bad boy—appearance. Lucy swallowed.
He stepped around the desk. "Ian MacLaren." His hand caught hers in a warm embrace.
Good Lord, he had to be at least six inches taller than she was, making him around six-foot-four. Could he be anymore condom worthy?
The errant thought instantly set her face on fire. She suppressed the urge to look down and determine if he might be Mammoth Man material. Lucy squeezed her eyes closed. Gram and Kate were going to suffer for putting these thoughts in her head!
Feeling like a complete deviant, she withdrew her hand and found the nerve to introduce herself with the hope that the sooner she did, the sooner she could make a run for it. "Riley Brooks," the lie came out of her mouth so easily it took her a moment to realize what she'd done. Crap. She wasn't supposed to say she was Riley, just her replacement. "But my friends call me Lucy," she added, feeling miserable.
Just put her in front of a fine, rugged male specimen and she'd lose every bit of common sense she had.
In her defense though, he was really, really fine.
His head dipped in a slight nod. "And what should I call you, lass?"
Dear Lord. He did not just call me lass.
Unfortunately he had, and her inner fantasy girl was screaming in delight.
She wondered if he even realized how yummy he sounded. And the fact that he called her lass? Downright X-rated. No wonder she was acting like an idiot. A Scottish hunk, using Scottish words, in a Scottish castle. So not her fault.
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Table of Contents
Note To Readers
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Author’s Note
Other Books By Bella Love
Upcoming Books
Teasers from other Contemporary Romances
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