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Thursday, April 28, 2011



  "What do you do for a living?"
    "I cash trust fund checks. Doesn't that make you want to sleep with me?" he laughed.
     "Actually, no. I think I'd prefer the bartender," she said, moving away from Miles and searching for her mother.

Prequel to “Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights” – Installment #4

Still Saturday night
            Linda looked around her table, disappointed to see no single men there. It was mostly older couples and a single young woman seated next to Sunny.
            “Long-time supporters of the Boys and Girls Clubs?” An older woman asked Linda.
            “We’re new to this one,” Linda lied, smiling.
            We’re new to them all!
            Sunny looked away to keep from laughing. She saw a nice looking man staring at her from an adjacent table.
            “I hate these things. My parents drag me here because their friends come…and they’re hoping I’ll meet someone,” the girl next to her confided to Sunny.
            “This is my first one, but I know what you mean. My name is Caroline.”
            “Anne. If I looked like you, I wouldn’t be here.”
            “Where would you be?”
            “In bed with some hunk,” she laughed.
            Sunny raised her eyebrows and dug into her salad to avoid having to respond.
            “Where did you get that dress? It’s amazing how the blue matches your eyes so perfectly,” Anne said.
            “My mother made it.”
            “She did a great job. My mother wouldn’t be caught dead at a sewing machine. She’s a day trader.”
            Sunny nodded and kept eating, hoping the sooner she finished, the quicker they could go home. The lights dimmed as the main course arrived and a speaker stepped up to the podium.
            “Now they’re going to tell you what they did with your money and why they need you to cough up more,” Anne whispered.
            After the speech and dessert, Sunny was preparing to leave when the band started up.  They played “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.” Caroline watched the man from the next table come over. He asked her to dance. She got up, putting her hand in his.
He looked pretty normal, about five foot ten, with brown hair, a small scar on his forehead and warm brown eyes. He pulled her a little too close and moved her effortlessly around the dance floor. His shoulders were broad, his hands warm and dry. He smelled faintly of expensive aftershave. She relaxed against him.
            “I’m Case Evers,” he said.
            “Caroline Davis,” she replied.
            “New here?”
            She nodded.
            “I’d have remembered you,” he laughed, tightening his arm around her waist. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.
The music stopped. There was scattered applause as they started up again, playing “Unchained Melody.” Case put his arm around Sunny, drawing her into his arms again and swept her up and away.
“I don’t intend to let you go,” he whispered.
She looked at him.
“You’re mine for tonight,” he stated.
“Don’t I have some say in this?”
“If I let you go, there are ten guys waiting to swoop down and take you away. I may not be a genius but I’m not stupid,” he laughed.
She relaxed against him. Her gaze connected with Linda’s as Case twirled her around the dance floor. Linda gave Sunny a smile and a nod of approval.
The band switched to a Latin beat with “Sway”. Case pulled her close again putting his hand on her hip to guide her to the marimba beat.
“Those expensive dancing lessons finally pay off,” he laughed.
They moved together, hip to hip as Sunny followed his lead. She felt heat from his chest against hers and her body was reacting to the sexy dance. After the music stopped, he led her over to the bar. With drinks in hand he guided her to a window, far away from the other men in the room.
“Tell me about yourself, beautiful Caroline,” he said.
“Not much to tell. I’m an artist.”
“An artist? Fantastic! Do you paint? Draw? Do charcoal?”
“All of the above,” she said, “what about you?”
“I’m a lawyer…not with a big firm or anything. I have one partner and we do mostly non-profit work, like for the Metropolitan Ballet.”
Caroline smiled at him.
True to his word, Case danced every dance with Caroline. He made her laugh with corny jokes and sly comments on the others attending the dinner. When she turned to look, her mother was gone, leaving Caroline with this charming stranger.
“My mother took off,” Caroline said, annoyed.
“Good. Then I can take you home,” he said, his eyes glistening at the prospect of getting her alone in a dark alcove, even if only for a few minutes.
“You’re not an axe murderer, are you?”
“Not in this life,” he laughed.
Case kept his hand on her elbow as Caroline picked up her purse and they walked out together.
“Do you live far?” He asked.
“About twenty-five blocks up and then across.”
“Are you up to walking?”
“It’s a beautiful night, why not?” She said, staring up into the clear night sky.
Case took her hand and they strolled up Madison Avenue together, stopping to look in the windows of the chic stores carrying wildly expensive clothing. After ten blocks, Case pulled her closer, resting his arm around her shoulders. She slipped her arm around his waist and looked up.
“Are you a werewolf? The moon is full,” she joked.
“Just a wolf, if they still use that term,” he said, pulling her into the darkness of a shop doorway and planting a tender kiss on her lips.
Surprised, Sunny stood still and let him kiss her.
“I like to get that out of the way early in the evening, to reduce the tension,” he said, stepping back onto the sidewalk and taking her hand.
“Right,” she replied, laughing.         
“You’re something in the moonlight,” he murmured.
She moved up the sidewalk next to him, running her tongue over her lower lip, tasting him there and slowing her pace.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“I’m only human and if you do that again…I don’t know, I might have to marry you.”
She burst out laughing and he pulled her into an embrace, seizing the opportunity to kiss her again, more deeply. She melted against him.
“It might take a long time to get you home at this pace,” he said.
“Ask me if I care,” she said, staring into his eyes.

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A Little Bit About the Book
Do you have someone in your past you would like to reconnect with? Did you have an all-consuming crush at thirteen and wonder where he is now? 

Sunny Davis White wasn't looking for Mickey, now Mike Foster, her childhood crush, she was fleeing her philandering husband, seeking peace and quiet, time to reflect on changing her life. But there was Mike, saving her from a mishap...again, bigger than life and even more handsome. 

A well-known artist, Sunny thought she could escape, disappear for a while in the country, back to the cabin where she spent her summers as a child. But she was wrong. Her husband refused to let her go. There hadn't been a divorce in Brad White's family...ever! And he wasn't about to start breaking that tradition now.  

Read reviews for "Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights" and get first two chapters emailed to you free at my website:  Now and Forever Books.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011


From my friend and co-Astraea Press author, Kristine Cheney:

I have a confession…something I am not proud of. But I must redeem myself by getting this off my chest. Ahem. Please do not judge me, for I have seen the error of my ways, and have since abstained from this regretful, unladylike behavior.

In 2007, my husband and I went out with a very large group of friends. We decided to try a local bar that offers indoor dancing and a few outdoor activities, such as volleyball and horseshoes. Yes, I admit that I repeatedly hit the icy cold mug that held the delicious, frothy, amber suds of Michelob Ultra against my lips. I drank until I felt the logical part of my consciousness turn to the dark side.

I made the mistake of turning my head to the right. My eyes widened with awe and wonder. The beast was beckoning to me from a distance, calling my name like a telepathic siren’s song. Its enchanted melody was far too sweet to resist. Staggering from my chair, I had to accept the challenge. After all, I was bullet proof.

I stood in line, anticipating my turn. But it didn’t take very long. Waiting to get your ride on a mean, black, bucking mechanical bull is always like time moving in fast-forward. Before I knew it, this young, handsome chap offered me his hand with a knowing, rogue smile. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t understand the meaning behind his naughty grin until later.

He helped me climb and straddle the humped back of this waiting, mammoth monster. The rogue tipped his hat at me like a gentleman. He asked if I was ready, with the sweetest, Southern drawl. Being part super hero, I upped the challenge by raising one of my hands high into the air. The last word I remember screaming was, “Go!”

The ride was nice and slow at first. My inner thighs held tight and I moved in sync with my bull. Back and forth we danced to the same hummed, mechanical rhythm. I should have known something was amiss when my rogue began to smile. I felt the zipped transition as he slipped me up a couple of notches. It was then I began to scream.

I was hanging on for dear life! The hold of my thighs on either side of the saddle became tighter than a vice grip. The hand I had so carelessly flaunted into the air was now seeking security from the rope wrapped around the horn of my saddle. My beautiful, fluid-like movements slipped into the dark abyss of chaos. With a quick glance, I noted the expectant grin on the delicious cow-poke’s face. I quickly changed my mind about him. I decided he was a jerk.

Back and forth I waged a violent war of woman against this demonic, pseudo-beast. I honestly felt my brain begin to liquefy into jelly, or perhaps it was scrambled eggs. Regardless, my brave, fearless spirit crumbled. The windows of my eyes must have become an open portal into my soul. By the hoots and hollers of the men-folk, they were all enjoying the show.

The dilemma in my mind was deciding what was worse of two evils. Did I continue to hang on and forget my manners or allow myself to be bucked off to end this horrible crusade? Unfortunately, when jerk-face decided to up me another notch, I no longer had the choice.

I don’t remember much of my trip of sailing though the air. I only recall feeling weightless for a few moments, and then came the quick rush of being thankful for the thick, bouncy, red pads strategically placed all over the ground. Despite the beautiful, roaring standing ovation I earned from my male audience, acknowledging the truth of being used for eye-candy hit me like a solid punch in my gut.

The grin on my husband’s face was one of pride and astonishment. You would have sworn by his puffed chest he was silently bragging to all that he was the one who got to take me home. But my troubles didn’t end there at that Godless place. Oh, no! You see, I had to wake up the next morning.

Hang-over Hell was amplified times a thousand by the angry bleed of black, purple, and blue bruises. I now know why cowboys walk the way that they do. The whole complete inside of my thighs from one knee up, arched across my lady places, and down to the other knee, was nothing but a broken train-wreck of exploded blood vessels. My stupidity cost me the ability to walk straight for almost a week. Giving birth to triplets would have been so much easier.

So if you’re ever out with friends, and a mechanical bull calls your name, know that he’s a liar. Stick to your suds and keep your bottom planted deep inside your chair. Don’t approach him. Don’t consider him. Heck, don’t even look at him. Flex your muscles in your thighs and be grateful you still got them. I can tell you one thing for certain. This girl has learned her lesson. Consider this puppy eternally scratched off my bucket list.

                                                                                      Kristine Cheney
Kristine has two books out with Astraea Press:

Spartan Heart, Part one
Spartan Heart, Part Two 

Available in all formats at:

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