Mari Carr's Blog, page 93
October 30, 2011
Six Sentence Sunday
I just recently finished edits on White Knight, the sequel to Black Jack. Here's a sneak peek…
Usually he headed to his apartment, but he didn't want to leave Shea alone. Grabbing a blanket from the chair, he laid down on the couch. For the first time in a long time, he actually felt sleepy, his usual insomnia remaining at bay. His last thought before he drifted to sleep was of Shea. He didn't know who she was, but she'd done something no one had done in a very long time.
Surprised him.
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October 29, 2011
Saturday Snippet
This week we're posting THRILLING scenes. My second book with Ellora's Cave was a romantic suspense called Retreat. There was one scene that popped into my mind when I was picking a scary scene.
Snippet:
She was about to proceed when a hand covered her lips and she felt herself being dragged into the empty office she'd just passed. She started to struggle as the image of the hulking guard from three nights ago entered her mind. His leering looks left no doubt in her mind what he would do to her if he caught her alone again. Kicking back toward her captor's shins, she dug her nails into the hand on her mouth.
"Dammit, Beauty, stop now!"
Night's hushed admonition froze her in her tracks. Once he had her in the office and the door shut behind them, she turned, pulled his lips to hers and kissed him. Hard. Intense. She put every bit of worry, fear and loneliness she'd suffered the past three days out there, and he took it all away from her. She had only begun to come down from that kiss when she felt another pair of arms embrace her from behind.
"Did you save any of that for me?" Jon whispered. She choked back a sob of relief and she turned to offer the same welcome to him. The kiss seemed to last hours when Night cleared his throat behind them.
"Much as I'd like to celebrate this reunion in style, we don't have the time."
His words had the same effect as cold water on Jon and he broke off the embrace. "What in the hell are you doing out of your room?" he demanded.
"I knew the two of you would be out looking for evidence and I wanted to help."
Jon scowled at her. "Of all the dangerous, stupid things to do! Do you know how lucky you were it was Night that spotted you and not one of the guards?" Jon's voice was no more than a whisper, yet she felt as though he was screaming at her.
"None of the guards seem to be at their posts. That's one of the things I wanted to tell you."
"We know that," Night reassured her. "We slipped a little something into their drinks at dinner. I figure we managed to drug the drinks of at least ten of those bastards. The ones who aren't passed out are puking their guts up in the bathrooms."
"Oh." She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I was afraid they were setting a trap or something. Of course you realize that still leaves about ten more of the assholes roaming around."
"Which is all the more reason why you should have stayed in your damn room." Jon was clearly still exasperated with her.
"I needed to talk to you. Find out how things went with your mother. See what the plan was."
Now it seemed to be Night's turn to chastise her. "The plan is the same as it was three days ago, Carly. We're trying to earn her trust and buy time while we search for evidence. That's what we were trying to do tonight, but now we'll have to find a way to smuggle you back to your room without getting caught."
She felt guilty about the danger she'd brought to them and their scheme. "I'm sorry! I really am, but I've been so worried about you. All I could think about was making sure you were okay."
"You saw us earlier in Cassandra's office."
"I know but, well, I didn't exactly get those kisses in Cassandra's office, did I?" she answered with an impish grin, hoping to dispel their annoyance. "Besides, I needed to tell you something and I couldn't figure out how to get a message to you."
"What?" Jon asked.
"It's Trisha. She and her mother aren't here anymore. One of the women said they went back home, but I'm afraid that may not be true. Where do you think they could be?"
Jon was clearly dismayed by her information and she heard Night mutter a curse behind her before voicing his suspicions. "There's a dungeon on the compound."
She nodded. "I remember Reilly mentioning that."
"Chances are good Cassandra's already taken some of her victims there for training. She certainly insinuated that earlier when we were in her office," Night explained. "That's actually where we were headed. If Cassie's locked those women up and begun the training, it's all the proof we'll need. We're familiar with the layout, so we've got a plan for smuggling them out. Problem is, we need to wait until you've been taken there as well."
"We've convinced my mother to wait a couple days before moving you to the dungeon for your punishment, so you may have to hang in there a bit longer. You simply have to trust us when we say we have things under control. By the way, she was pissed as hell over your threats." Jon seemed to calm down with his praise. "You were brilliant in there, Blue Eyes."
"So is it what we feared?" She could tell by the look in Jon's eyes that it was, but she needed the confirmation.
It was Night who answered. "It's worse than we feared."
"Worse how?"
"Yes, Night, tell her how it's worse." The door banged open against the wall and the room flooded with light. Carly was horrified as a barrage of guards entered the room and completely surrounded them in less than a minute, each of the bruising brutes armed to the teeth. She knew Jon and Night had come to the compound unarmed and by the resigned looks on their faces, she could see they were regretting that decision.
At the doorway stood Cassandra, dressed head to toe in leather. She slowly took off a headset and tossed it to the floor.
"Bugging the offices, Mother? Don't trust your employees?" Jon asked and Carly was shocked by the steadiness of his voice.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me 'Mother', Jon?"
"You knew," Jon said quietly to his mother. He'd moved closer to Carly's right once the lights came on and Night was pressed tightly to her left side. They'd moved to flank her when the danger presented itself and she hadn't even realized it.
Cassandra laughed cruelly. "Actually no, I didn't. Although I suspected, Jon. Always. And now I know it's true. You betrayed me." Cassandra turned to look at Night. "And you betrayed your father. What greater sin can a son commit than to turn against his own parents? I've tried for years to determine the truth. Now that I've discovered your treachery, I can see I was right to wait. Right to bide my time."
"Why is that?" Jon asked and Carly was shocked to hear how calm, how resigned he sounded.
"You've given me the truth I sought and the means for my revenge all in a single night. Imagine my delight in discovering I can bring you and Night to your knees with a single blow."
Cassandra waved her hand toward the guards. They moved in closer, all of them aiming their weapons directly at them. "I suggest," Cassandra said, "that you come peacefully. How you react now will determine how merciful I am later."
Carly felt her lovers press closer to her, covering her almost completely with their large forms. They would take every bullet in those damn guns to protect her. The idea filled her heart so completely that her love for them seemed to obliterate all her fears, all her worries in an instant. They would lay down their lives for her.
Her path suddenly appeared before her, clear as a blue sky in spring.
"No," she whispered, aware that only Night and Jon could hear her. "Move away."
Neither man responded.
She raised her hands and shoved. Her sudden movement caught them unaware and she managed to push them away enough that she was able to step out from between. They started to move back into position but the guards halted them as she continued forward and away from them until she stood directly before Cassandra.
"Take me instead," Carly said.
"Excuse me?" Cassandra narrowed her eyes at her.
"Let them go and take me instead. They'll only be more trouble then they're worth to you. Take me, train me, sell me. Whatever. Just take me and let them go. Believe me, they've suffered enough from you. I won't let you hurt them anymore."
"No Carly, you don't know what you're saying!" Jon's voice was strong and sure, but as she looked around the room, she could see the impossibility of escape. She had no doubt both men would fight 'til the death, but she refused to let it come to that.
"If I come with you, if I do everything you say, do you promise not to hurt them? Will you let them go?"
Cassandra grinned at her request. "You are a feisty, cheeky little thing, aren't you? But I fear, my dear girl, Jon is correct. You really don't understand."
A ball of ice the size of Antarctica formed in her stomach when Cassandra looked at her. Really looked at her.
She shook her head, trying to block out the white noise threatening to consume her. Cassandra intended to hurt her, possibly—hell, probably—kill her in an attempt to destroy Jon and Night.
Cassandra raised her eyebrow at her foolish request. "I don't have to lift a finger against them to cause them pain."
"No," she whispered. She saw the cold-blooded pleasure Cassandra took in her triumph and turned quickly, desperate to reach her lovers. Jon and Night rushed forward but were roughly shoved back by the guards. She was surprised when Cassandra grabbed her from behind with a strength she wouldn't have known the older woman possessed and placed a gun against her temple.
"Now, now, now, boys. We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way."
Jon and Night both brought up their fists, clearly opting for the hard way. Carly fought against a scream as she watched the guards grab them despite the fact her two lovers were putting up one hell of a fight.
"Stop!" she yelled. "You'll kill them!"
Cassandra seemed to agree as soon as it became apparent their valiant defense was pointless in the face of so many opponents.
"End this," Cassandra hissed. "Quickly."
Two of the guards raised their weapons and brought the butts of their guns down against Night and Jon's heads. Both of her beloved men collapsed on the floor at her feet. Carly started to struggle—desperate to reach them—but Cassandra's grip on her was unbreakable.
"You want to save them, little Carly?" Cassandra whispered the question in her ear.
Carly stopped fighting. "Tell me how?" Her words sounded dull, flat, lifeless, even to her own ears.
Cassandra laughed, low and harsh. "If you survive the next twenty-four hours, I'll let them live. If you die, they die—painfully. But I should warn you, my darling girl, I have no doubt you'll be begging to kill them yourself before I'm finished with you."
Retreat is available in ebook and print format at Ellora's Cave, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony and All Romance Ebooks.
Ready for more thrills?
October 28, 2011
Raw–Day one
Wow–yesterday was a whirlwind! Jayne and I woke up and did leftover McDonald's cheeseburgers for breakfast (the epitome of lazy–neither one of us wanted to get dressed to go down to breakfast!). After that, we manned the RAW registration tables for a few hours. Had a great time meeting so many wonderful readers. One lovely gal, Kim, gave me a Book Obsessed Chicks t-shirt–LOVE it. I ran into some wonderful Heat Wave readers and friends. I spent a very nice evening connecting with Susan, Ive and Kim. Met up with my kissing bandit/boyfriend (don't tell his wife Terri–lol) Billy. We sat around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows with Shari, a gal who'd traveled all the way from Calgary. We laughed the entire time. Last night, I had dinner with my Samhain editor, Lindsey! I don't get to see her very often so I cherish having the time to talk to her face-to-face.
This event is smaller so it allows for lots of time to sit and chat with friends I've made through my writing. This resort is UNBELIEVABLE. The view of the mountains and lake are stunning and the food is delicious! Mary Wine hosted a registration tea yesterday and the cucumber sandwiches were YUM! I can't wait to see what today brings! Hopefully…not snow. Forecast is calling for 5-8 inches TOMORROW! Yikes.
October 25, 2011
Goin' Raw!
This weekend, I'm traveling to the beautiful town of Flintstone, Maryland for Lora Leigh's Reader Author Weekend. The event begins Thursday and ends Sunday. If any of you live near the Cumberland, Maryland area, there will be a public booksigning on Sunday, Oct. 30 at 1:30 p.m. until 3 p.m. at the Rocky Gap Lodge. There are lots of fan-damn-tastic authors attending. I'm so excited about meeting these writers, I can hardly stand to be with myself! Other authors include:
Lora Leigh
Lori L. Foster
C.H. Admirand
Elizabeth Amber
Monica Burns
Bianca D' Arc
Sylvia Day
Nikki Duncan
Jacquelyn Frank
Sahara Kelly
Angela Knight
Erin McCarthy
Cheyenne McCray aka Jaymie Holland
Amanda McIntyre
Jayne Rylon
Trixie Stilletto
Beth Williamson
Mary Wine
I will try to post pics and blogs from the event if I'm able. There are lots of fun events planned, so I'm worried about time. However, if it is as crazy fun as I fear (hee hee), I will be sure to write a long, juicy post upon my return home.
October 24, 2011
Quote of the Day
And now back to Harry…just because…I love him.
"If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." ~J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, 2000, spoken by Sirius Black
October 22, 2011
Saturday Snippet
This week, it's all about the villains. The bad guy in Because of You was about as nasty as a villain gets. Last month, I sold the sequel! I'm happy to announce that Because You Love Me will release at Samhain on January 24, 2012. But…for today…I'm sharing a snippet from Because of You.
Snippet:
As her friend stepped away, Jessie glanced around at the surrounding woods. She hadn't felt her tormentor's eyes on her during her last visit, but the sensation was definitely here now.
She was tired of playing mouse to this villain's cat and she prayed her intuition was wrong. There was too much to live for now. Her hands instinctively went to her stomach. She wasn't showing yet, but it wouldn't be long.
Please leave me alone.
The future was quickly approaching and she felt the powerful need to escape the past before it arrived.
***
Jessie bid farewell to the real estate agent and climbed into her car. She was disappointed in the houses the realtor had shown her, but the woman assured her there were many more choices. She wanted to buy a house with a backyard big enough for a swing set and room for a child to run around, to grow up.
Discouraged, she tried not to lose heart. There was always tomorrow. Suddenly that idea didn't seem to bother her as much as it used to.
She'd said goodbye to Todd and Stephen early this morning as they'd left for Denver for an innkeeper's convention. They hoped to learn more about the bed and breakfast trade as well as drum up some business and make contacts in the field. She was pleased for her friends. They truly seemed to have found their niche in life and she hoped they would find success.
Driving down the county road toward their ranch, her thoughts drifted to Caleb and the baby. She'd intended to call him this morning, but chickened out at the last minute.
As soon as I get home, she thought. I'll call him the second I get home.
She was anxious to share what she prayed he would think was good news. The problem was she didn't really know Caleb James that well. They'd spent one fun, drunken night together and had spoken on the phone no more than a dozen times. Sometimes Jessie worried that she had built the man up in her mind, made too much of his kindness. He had come to her at a time when she'd been terribly lonely and grief-stricken. He'd made her laugh, made her feel like a desirable woman. Hell, he'd made her feel alive.
She slowed down at a particularly nasty curve in the road, squinting against the brutally bright afternoon sun. She reached up to put down her sun visor when another car came into view. For a split second, she considered the fact that this was the first vehicle she'd seen on the road since leaving the town limits, then she realized the car was on her side of the road and close. Too damn close. She swerved to the right sharply, attempting to avoid hitting the other vehicle. Her actions took her off road and she had only a second to panic as she saw the tree directly in her path.
Her scream was cut short when her car crashed roughly into the large tree. She felt a sharp, hard blow to her head and her surroundings became fuzzy. Her car horn blared nonstop intensifying her pain and she blinked against the grayness at the edge of her vision.
"It'll be okay, Jessie" a man said from beside her. She tried to turn her head, but the action hurt too badly and she gasped at the cruel, throbbing ache.
"Help me," she whispered, fighting not to lose consciousness.
"I'm sorry. I…" the man murmured. His calm tone penetrated her panicked mind as his words drifted away from her. Relief suffused her. Someone was with her. He would help her. She gave up her fight and succumbed to the darkness.
Because of You is available at Samhain, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony, Kobo, Fictionwise and All Romance Ebooks.
Check out some more snippets by these great authors.
October 18, 2011
Wanna know a secret?
Come Monday will be free (yes…I said FREE) from now until November 13. Actually…it's no secret at all. Feel free to scream this from the rooftops if you'd like. I know I will be. I'm a sucker for a sale. Hee hee.
You can pick up your copy at absolutely NO CHARGE at all the major vendors including…Ellora's Cave, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance Ebooks, and Sony.
Wild Irish, Book One
Monday's child is fair of face…
After the death of her mother years prior, Keira Collins became a surrogate parent to her six younger brothers and sisters, her own dreams put on hold. At twenty-seven, she's finally pursuing a college degree. Between classes, working at the family pub and still tending to siblings, she's no time for romance. So why is she spending all her rare free time fantasizing about hot Professor Wallace bending her over his desk?
Will Wallace recognizes Keira's unfulfilled desires, her habit of hiding her beauty, her obsessive need to command every aspect of her life. But Will has needs of his own—and they run far darker than Keira's. As he initiates her into his lifestyle, offering sweet punishments and sweeter rewards, Will's sexual authority slowly strips away some of her precious control. The one thing Keira's not ready to relinquish…
Excerpt:
She rushed into Professor Wallace's office shortly after nine with an apology hovering on her lips.
"Shut the door, Miss Collins," he said before she could speak. "And lock it."
She obeyed, wondering at his too-calm disposition.
"Come here."
Again she complied and a tiny part of her marveled at his ability to make her follow his commands. She wasn't the type of person to take orders easily from anyone. She'd spent far too much of her life in charge, the responsibility of caring for her family weighing heavily on her shoulders.
"You're late," he said.
Again she started to apologize, but he placed a firm finger against her lips, halting all sound.
"I warned you."
She nodded.
"Turn around and bend over the desk. Lift your skirt in the back."
She shivered at his request before her fantasy broke briefly.
Why am I wearing a skirt? I never wear them.
Shrugging off the wayward thought, she bent over his big desk, her mind only slightly aware of the fact the surface had been cleared.
His hand lightly brushed the back of her thigh as he helped her raise her skirt to her waist. She whimpered softly at the impact of his touch.
"Shh," he soothed. "This is for your own good." As he spoke, he brought his hand down against her buttocks. Over and over he spanked her as she trembled against the wooden desk. Her body revolted against her mind, the ingrained part of her that said this was wrong, as she lurched back, aching for more of his blows. His hand fell without restraint, without ceasing, and before she could make sense of what was happening, she came. Loudly.
"Ahh!" Keira bolted upright in bed and glanced around, afraid she'd woken her sisters with her cry. Riley and Teagan didn't stir, a fact for which she was grateful. They'd think she'd had a nightmare and there was no way she could explain that fantasy to them.
She silently gasped for breath, her body trembling, demanding the climax she'd dangled in front of it then ruthlessly denied. A trickle of sweat ran down her cheek. She wiped it away, wrapping her arms around her bent knees, trying to regain some semblance of control.
She'd never fantasized about such things before entering Professor Wallace's class. In the four short months she'd been his student, her mind had wandered to so many dark, forbidden places she wondered if the man had somehow hypnotized her. She'd never experienced such intense, powerful fantasies. She took a deep, calming breath and lay down again.
Figured. Her first real taste of hardcore, passionate need and it was directed at a man who was completely unattainable. He was her teacher, for God's sake. She glanced at the clock. In six hours she would be alone with him—and heaven help her, because she was sure she'd never be able to hide her desires from his too-knowledgeable gaze.
He was too perceptive, too attentive.
Too everything.
* * * * *
Keira stood outside the door to Professor Wallace's office and took a deep breath. It was five minutes to nine and she was functioning on less than two hours sleep. She'd tossed and turned most of the night, distracted by one red-hot fantasy after another. It seemed the good professor had hit three sevens in her sexual jackpot and had released the flood of coins—or in her case—unending, flowing arousal.
No use prolonging the agony. She straightened her bag on her shoulder and knocked.
"Come in," his deep voice beckoned. She shivered at the sound and wondered how in the hell she'd make it through this meeting without ripping her clothes off and throwing herself on his desk.
Opening the door, she stepped inside, tentatively hovering on the threshold. He looked up from the stack of papers before him and offered her that too-gorgeous smile.
"You're right on time, Keira. I like that."
She nodded and smiled tremulously. One glance at his handsome face and her body was already staging its own show. A quick glance down proved her nipples were rock hard and poking through her cotton blouse. As she started across the room, she felt an unfamiliar stickiness between her legs. Christ. She was soaking wet.
"Please shut the door," he said, after she'd only gone two steps. She turned to close the door with a shaking hand and cursed her weakness. She was running on empty and seriously wishing she'd gotten some sleep.
As she approached the desk, she stopped and stared briefly at the smooth surface. For a moment, her dream of lying facedown upon it drifted back and she felt a rush of heat flush her cheeks. Mercifully, Professor Wallace didn't seem to notice her distress.
"I trust you brought your past assignments."
She nodded and reached into her bag, pulling out the endless stack of C papers she'd accumulated over the semester.
"I thought we'd begin by looking at the very first paper you wrote for my class again. I believe it was the one-page description of a special place."
She shifted through her essays, recalling her dismay at discovering a C-minus on her first paper. Little did she know the trend would continue for weeks on end. She'd been pleased with her description of the restaurant and sure the paper would receive an A. Finding it in the stack, she handed it to him.
"Ah yes. You wrote about your family's restaurant, Pat's Irish Pub. An interesting choice." He looked down as he spoke and she remained silent as he briefly skimmed her writing. "This is the family restaurant where you work."
She nodded. She'd yet to speak a word, too afraid her voice would betray her nervousness, her agitation.
"Tell me why you chose the restaurant as your special place."
She considered his question for a moment, wondering how much she should share. She shrugged. "I suppose I wrote about it because I've spent so much of my life there."
He frowned and she sensed he wasn't happy with her answer. "I've lived in the same apartment for twelve years. I wouldn't choose it as my special place merely because of its familiarity."
Twelve years. Again, she tried to guess his age. If he began teaching at twenty-two, he could be as young as thirty-four. He cleared his throat and she shook herself, aware he was waiting for her response.
"The restaurant is more than just a home to me." The moment he'd issued the assignment, she'd known she would write about the restaurant. It was the first place she'd thought of.
"What is your major, Keira?"
She sucked in a breath at her name on his lips. Why did the mere sound of it run through her like a tornado-force wind?
"I'm a business major."
"That makes sense," he replied with a nod.
"I don't understand."
He grinned. "In my experience, business majors tend to cut to the chase. They are rather no-nonsense kind of people."
She thought he'd described her well. She also knew he didn't consider his words to be a compliment.
"Your description of the restaurant is very factual, very observant, very boring."
She narrowed her eyes. "It's detailed and accurate."
"Close your eyes, Keira."
Her voice seized up as she considered his request. When she was able, she muttered one question. "Why?" Her heart raced at the idea of leaving herself even a tiny bit vulnerable in his presence.
"I want to do an experiment." He waited and she realized that refusal would be futile. Professor Wallace was a man who didn't take no for an answer. That thought sent a fresh round of juices to her already-drenched panties and she squeezed her legs together to fight the onslaught.
He quirked his eyebrow and she slowly closed her eyes.
"Describe this room." She started to open her eyes but he halted her. "With your eyes closed."
She struggled to remember what any part of the room looked like. She'd been so preoccupied with the office's lone inhabitant that she'd failed to truly look around. The only piece of furniture that seemed vaguely familiar was the desk, and even then, only from her rather raunchy fantasies.
"There's a desk in the middle of the room," she said at last.
His light chuckle sent her hackles up and she forced herself to try to think of more. "There are bookshelves on the wall." Which wall, she couldn't recall.
"Stop relying on what you can see, Keira."
She considered his suggestion and realized she could sense many things about the room. "It smells of leather in here. Leather and old books and," she paused, sniffing the delicate odors, "your cologne."
"Very good. What else?"
She turned her head slightly and was immediately struck by the silence. "I can't hear anything. It's remarkably quiet in here."
He seemed to agree. "One of the reasons I hold my office hours so early. I relish the peacefulness. By this afternoon, the noise of all the students out in the hallway and on the campus outside my window will fill this room. You mentioned the desk. It's right in front of you. Touch it."
She bent forward, thankful her eyes were closed, praying he couldn't detect the slight shaking of her hand.
"How does it feel?"
"Smooth," she replied, running her hand along the surface. "And cooler than I would have imagined. It would feel cold against my cheek." Her eyes flew open when she realized the strangeness of her remark.
Professor Wallace's eyes were studying her intently.
October 17, 2011
Quote of the Day
"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." - The Wonder Years
October 16, 2011
Six Sentence Sunday
This week I'm featuring six sentences from the last book in the Compass Brothers series, Western Ties.
"Leah?" a familiar male voice behind her said.
Turning, she realized her night wasn't going to end as she'd planned. She should have stayed in Compton Pass.
"Sawyer." She didn't bother with the pretense of being happy to see him. "What the hell are you doing here?"
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October 15, 2011
Saturday Snippet
This week's theme is workplace and I was immediately reminded of one of my very first Ellora's Cave books, Covert Lessons. Like the heroine, I'm a former English teacher and I pulled on a lot of my personal experiences for the book.
Snippet:
"Why me?"
"You know why, Ms. Finch. Now if you would please sit down, I will explain more fully."
Kelly Finch sat heavily in the leather chair across the desk from her boss, Mr. Hallstrom. As principal of Lowell High School, Mr. Hallstrom had a lovely corner office complete with not one, but two big windows allowing copious amounts of natural light to shine on the large wooden desk and dark brown leather office chairs. She could see a few January flurries flying about outside.
Kelly, on the other hand, would have killed for one lousy peephole to the outside world in her fluorescent hell of an English classroom. Her metal teacher's desk was so battered and beaten she would swear it had gone ten rounds with George Foreman and, as a result, only two of the four desk drawers closed completely. Her desk chair was the straight-back wooden model with no wheels. Every time she stood up, it scraped across the vinyl floor with an ear-piercing shriek that made her teeth ache. And with the lack of windows, she never knew what the weather was. Hell, a monsoon could hit and she wouldn't know.
"Mr. Hallstrom," she began, but her comments were cut short by the look of impatience on her usually mild-mannered principal's face.
"Kelly."
Oh shit. That was a sure sign she didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of winning this argument. Mr. Hallstrom never used anyone's first name. He didn't feel it was professional. The faculty liked to joke that he probably even called his wife Mrs. Hallstrom in bed at night. Turn off that light and give me a kiss, Mrs. Hallstrom. Kelly attempted to stifle her grin at the thought.
"I know you are well aware of our problems with gang activity within the school," he continued.
She simply nodded. She'd have to be a fool not to know about the gangs taking over the hallways. In the last week, she'd broken up two small skirmishes outside her classroom. Another teacher had been injured badly enough breaking up a fight three weeks ago that he'd had to be taken to the hospital and treated for a sprained wrist and mild concussion.
"The superintendent is breathing down my neck to get the situation under control. The best way to do that is to bring in people who are more experienced in dealing with gangs."
"I understand that, sir," she answered. "But that doesn't explain why I have to play host to a cop in my classroom."
"Ms. Finch," Mr. Hallstrom answered sternly. "By your own choice, you teach most of the students we suspect are taking part in these illegal activities. Quite frankly, I don't know how you deal with all of them but that's neither here nor there. Lt. McNally will be placed in your classroom under the guise of student teacher. No one will know he's a police officer except you, me, the superintendent and the gang task force he's working with. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," she grumbled.
"Ms. Finch." Mr. Hallstrom returned to his usual stoic self now that he had secured her agreement. "The gang task force was opposed to you being privy to this investigation, but I insisted upon your involvement. I hope you will not disappoint me in trusting you with this extremely sensitive information."
"No sir," she answered. "I won't tell anyone. That doesn't mean I'm happy about it though."
"I didn't think you would be," her principal admitted. At the sound of his tired voice, she looked—really looked—at his face for the first time since entering the room. No doubt his claim about the superintendent's anger was true. There were dark circles under his eyes and a tightness around his mouth that wasn't normally present.
It wasn't his fault the composition of the student body had changed so rapidly. Rising housing costs in the nearby city had driven folks out into the suburbs, bringing with them the gangs so typically associated with much larger urban populations. As a result, Lowell High School, her alma mater, no longer resembled the small-town school she'd loved as a teenager.
"He isn't a teacher," she argued, though she knew it was a lost cause.
"No, he isn't," Mr. Hallstrom added. "However, by posing as a student teacher, he can get away with observing for a few weeks. If it's necessary for him to remain longer than that, perhaps you can walk him through a few easy lessons for appearance's sake. The students won't suspect anything and it shouldn't really affect your teaching at all. Do what you would normally do."
"While the good lieutenant sits in the back of my classroom like a spider collecting flies?" she asked, her temper rising. Maybe her students weren't saints but she thought if she had enough time, she could pull some of them back from the lure of gangs. Most of her kids came from broken homes with oft-absent parents and unbelievable poverty. It was only natural they would flock to a group that promised them a loyal family and the chance to make money. Most of them were hungry and would do anything for a full belly and a little bit of attention.
As a result, she'd specifically requested the high-risk students be placed in her English classes and had begun an after-school tutoring program. She knew the hours right after school were the times when kids were at the highest risk because most parents, if they worked, were still toiling away. She was able to entice students to remain at school by feeding them. Her motto with the kids was simple. "We don't eat, we don't meet." By providing snacks, she ensured her room was usually packed with kids who were willing to discuss an extra poem or read silently for another hour if it meant they got a peanut butter and banana sandwich or giant chocolate chip cookie.
"Ms. Finch." Mr. Hallstrom rose from his chair and moved to stand before her. "No one knows better than I do how hard you work for those kids, but the fact of the matter is we are losing this battle."
"The battle," she interrupted, "not the war. Wars take time. Battles—mere minutes."
Mr. Hallstrom continued as if she hadn't spoken. "It's time to ask for help. Lt. McNally and his team can provide it. Later this week, we're having a faculty meeting in which some members of McNally's team are going to help us identify gang clothing, symbols, etcetera. We're going to crack down on dress code rules that prohibit bandanas, hats and other gang-related attire. We are adopting a zero-tolerance attitude. In a couple of weeks, there's a one-day conference in the city for educators and the police. It discusses ways to eradicate the threat of gangs in schools. I want you to go."
"Me?" she asked, startled.
"You'll be our faculty liaison. Go to the conference with Lt. McNally, learn all you can, then come back and do a presentation for the faculty." He smiled kindly at her, as if by treating the idea like a privilege she would be fooled into thinking she hadn't just had a ton of extra work dumped into her lap.
"I hate Mondays," she muttered, wondering why she'd bothered to get out of bed.
"Excuse me?"
"I said why me?" she asked, repeating her earlier question.
"You know why, Ms. Finch," he replied again. "Because you really care about the kids here and I know you want these gangs stopped as much as I do. I've certainly noticed your efforts toward that goal."
A knock at the door stopped her from responding to Mr. Hallstrom's unexpected praise. She'd always suspected she was actually a bit of a thorn in her harried principal's life. She tried to be a team player, but more often than not she found herself in the role of protector, coming up against administration time after time in order to help one of her kids.
She'd spent her entire planning period earlier in the day trying to get Maria, a pregnant teen in her third period, out of a one-day suspension. The pregnancy had so far been a difficult one for the young girl in terms of morning sickness. For weeks she'd begged Kelly to keep her pregnancy a secret, which she'd agreed to only on the condition that Maria see a doctor. Maria did, but despite her embarrassment over the situation, her blossoming midsection was going to give her away very soon. After receiving her fifth unexcused tardy to school, Maria was issued the suspension. Kelly had finally convinced the girl to explain her condition to the guidance counselor and the school nurse—then pleaded with the assistant principal to forgo the suspension, given the fact her tardies were due to morning sickness.
Voices at the doorway disrupted her thoughts as she watched the most stunning man she'd ever seen walk right out of her dreams and into the principal's office.
Ooh la la!
He had light brown hair—a bit long and tousled in a just-rolled-out-of-bed look—and his face had a five o'clock shadow. He wasn't what she would call a pretty boy, but he had a chiseled jaw and honest-to-God green eyes. His breathtaking face, however, was just the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae that was his body.
Holy mother.
Tall and muscular and built exactly the way a man ought to be.
Man, oh man.
Scratch the dream part—she would never have been so bold as to create this Greek god in any of her suddenly lackluster fantasies and she silently prayed she wasn't drooling.
Mr. Hallstrom turned to introduce her.
"Kelly Finch," he began, "this is Lt. Jared McNally."
"You're the cop?" she blurted in disbelief. This perfect specimen of a man was going to be sitting in the back of her classroom for God knew how long and she was supposed to teach as if she weren't thinking incredibly naughty thoughts? Yeah right.
The lieutenant had the audacity to merely smirk at what must have seemed like a rude remark.
"Yes, Ms. Finch. He is," Mr. Hallstrom said rather sharply, but McNally extended his hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Finch." His voice was smooth as silk and made her feel like an even bigger ass. "Your principal speaks very highly of you."
"Nice to meet you too, Lieutenant." She took the hand he proffered, but she didn't expect the firm handshake to rattle her the way it did. Touching this man was like touching a live wire. Electricity sparked throughout her body and she wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about spontaneous combustion.
Criminy. When was the last time she'd had sex?
Oh yeah, that's right, I live in Loserville.
She thought it had been at least a year, but in reality it may actually be closer to double that. No wonder the sexy cop was getting to her.
"That's Mr. McNally," he corrected her. "It's very important that you never refer to my rank, Ms. Finch. I'm just a poor, lowly student teacher."
"Of course." She quickly pulled her hand away when she realized she was still clinging to his.
"I assume Mr. Hallstrom briefed you on our operation." He was attempting and failing miserably to hide a smug grin that let her know he knew exactly how much and in what way he was affecting her. She cursed her flushing cheeks.
Cocky bastard. She hated him already. Could you hate someone in a lustful way?
"It's imperative that you keep the true reason for my presence in your classroom a secret. No one must know—not your mother, your best friend, your husband."
Ah, smooth. She noticed his brief hesitation as he asked about a husband. Maybe she wasn't the only one feeling the heat between them.
"My mother is in Florida, my best friend is a cat and I'm not married." This time her answers were cool and she felt as if she'd redeemed herself a bit. "I'm perfectly capable of keeping a secret, Mister McNally," she said, stressing his title. "If you were so concerned about my involvement, I'm surprised you bothered to tell me at all. Why not keep me in the dark?"
Mr. Hallstrom answered quickly, his voice soothing as he replied. Obviously he sensed the tense undertones between her and Mr. Arrogant. "As I said earlier, I insisted you be included, Ms. Finch. There was no way, given Lt. McNally's lack of educational training, that he would be able to fool you for long."
"Besides," McNally added, "I need to time to focus on my investigation and not waste it planning lessons to con one teacher."
"Planning lessons to educate children isn't a waste of time." She was painfully aware of how bitchy she was coming off in this whole conversation, but she couldn't seem to help herself. Mr. Lieutenant was making her so hot, she was sweating.
McNally's retort was calm and non-confrontational and once again, she cursed her wayward tongue. "Let's just say I'm here for another purpose and leave it at that."
Frustrated with the whole situation, she saw an out and took it. She looked at her principal. "If you have nothing else for me, I have some papers to grade in my classroom."
"Actually," McNally said, "I was hoping to spend some time briefing you in more detail about how I plan to proceed."
"Why don't you accompany Ms. Finch to her classroom?" Mr. Hallstrom was clearly seeing his own way to escape the entire scenario. "If you need anything else, Lt. McNally, please feel free to ask." He walked them to the door. "Ms. Finch, I'll e-mail you more information about that conference. Have a good afternoon."
With that, he closed the door to his office, leaving her alone with McNally in the hallway.
"Looks like we've been dismissed," McNally joked.
She merely raised her eyebrows at his words before turning and walking toward her classroom. If he wanted to continue their discussion, it would have to be somewhere much more private, even though the thought of being sequestered in her small classroom with the hot cop left her cheeks flushed and her insides squirming.
God, she really needed to get laid. Her reaction to this man was overblown, ridiculous.
Catching up to her, he kept pace and continued talking as if unaware of her attempts to lose him in the hallway.
"My friends call me Mac."
"How nice for your friends, Mr. McNally." She was unwilling to give up her immediate dislike of the man and the entire situation, although she knew she was fighting a losing battle.
He seemed unmoved by her frostiness. "And your first name is Kelly?"
"My friends call me Ms. Finch." She struggled to contain the slight grin crossing her lips but it escaped before she could call it back.
"Kelly will be fine then." He flashed an all-too-charming smile and she knew she was lost.
Hell and damnation.
Covert Lessons is available at Ellora's Cave, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony, Kobo and All Romance Ebooks.
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