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Chapter One
“You’re running away, Miss?” Harry, the butler, asked her.
“Yes, I am. I’ve had enough. Thank you for all your kindness
over the past five years. You helped to make unbearable times
better,” she said, warmly, shaking his hand.
Harry, a non-descript, plump, fifty-year-old man blushed,
putting color in his sallow cheeks.
“Don’t know what’s wrong with Mr. White. When he has you
here, why would he…? Well, it’s not for me to understand, I guess.
But I wouldn’t be doin’ that if I were him.”
She was grateful for his sweetness, but it was time to get
started. She had a long trip ahead. Caroline Davis White dashed
into the sunroom to grab her sketchpad and her fawn pug when the
doorbell rang.
“It’s Stanton Cauley, Mrs. White,” Harry said, returning to
the sunroom.
Caroline went to greet her visitor, a tall, slim, attractive man
with gray hair, dressed in casual pants and a button down shirt.
“Stan, nice to see you, but I was just going out. Is there a
problem with the collection?” she asked, smoothing down her long
blonde hair.
“No, no, Caroline. My people have packed up your paintings
now that the show is over, and I wanted to deliver them to you
personally.”
“That’s nice of you, but unnecessary,” she said, looking at her
watch.
“You’re looking ravishing as ever,” he said, his eyes roving
over her body, focusing too long on her cleavage, unconsciously
licking his lips before raising his eyes to hers.
“I’d love to invite you for coffee, Stan, but as I said, I’m on
my way out…” Caroline said, uneasy under his stare. She backed
away from him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.
“Always working, Caroline, you’re such a gifted artist, but
even a driven one takes time off to…ah…play once in a while,” he
said.
“Yes, well, today is not the day for that, I’m afraid,” she said,
moving toward the front door, hoping he would follow her.
“Come on, Caroline. Let’s stop beating around the bush. You
know why I’m here.”
“Honestly, Stan, I don’t have a clue. But whatever it is will
have to wait.”
“But love can’t wait.”
“What?”
“That’s right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t pretend, Caroline. You know I want to have an affair
with you. I’ve wanted it for a long time. Brad has his…other life…so
why shouldn’t you have yours?”
Caroline’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
“What happens between Brad and me is none of your
business. I’m married, Stan, and even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be
interested in sleeping with you. Never have been, never will be. I
suggest you leave.”
“Come, come, don’t be like that. I can show you a good time,
believe me. We can sail away for the weekend together on my yacht.
I’ll treat you well, just say the word.”
“No way. If Brad knew you were coming here with this…this
proposition, he’d-”
“But he does know. He thought if you had some diversion of
your own, you wouldn’t mind so much if he had his,” Stan said,
stepping closer and reaching for her hand.
Caroline moved back away from him.
“Come. Don’t be childish. You know you want this,” he said,
advancing toward her.
Anger from the past two years of pain and humiliation
pooled in her chest. Stan Cauley’s proposition was the last straw.
“Get out, Stan. Get out. You’re disgusting. Leave. Now! Get
out!” she screamed, her voice escalating in intensity.
She picked up an umbrella from the stand and threatened
him with it.
His face turned purple with outrage and when Harry opened
the front door, Stan stormed out.
Caroline put down the umbrella and took several deep
breaths to calm herself. She blinked back tears.
“That’s the way, Miss,” Harry said, shutting the door quickly.
“Harry, did you get the paintings unloaded before you
escorted him out?”
“Of course,” he said, smiling.
Caroline sank down in a soft chair in the foyer. Trixie came
and sprawled out at her feet. Harry brought her a cup of coffee. The
foyer of the Riordan twenty-room house in Greenwich, Connecticut,
one of the richest towns in the country, was grand. Great art hung
on the walls, the floor was pink marble and the room was painted a
tasteful beige.
The foyer was elegant like all the rooms in this house.
Bradley Riordan White lived in the section of town zoned for fouracre
estates, a cut above the area zoned for a paltry two acres.
Caroline paused. She thought about how great life could have
been in this amazing home with an art studio and a greenhouse.
Life could have been wonderful with the right man. Instead, this
house had become world’s classiest prison with Caroline as the only
inmate.
She had been planning to leave Brad for the past three
months. Her suitcases were packed, but the time never seemed
right. After Stan’s visit, if she had any thoughts about staying, they
were gone. Her relationship with Brad had deteriorated beyond
repair and she had to leave…immediately before she had to face
another degrading situation like the one with Stan. She finished her
coffee and called for Harry.
“Would you please help me load up my car?”
“Right away, Miss,” he said.
Caroline led him into her bedroom to get two suitcases and
several small oil paintings.
“Harry…don’t put the luggage and things in the Bentley,” she
instructed.
“You’re not taking the Bentley?” he asked, raising his
eyebrows in surprise.
“No. Put everything in the Mazda, in the trunk. I don’t want
anything showing in the back seat,” she said, ready to be rid of the
trappings of wealth.
“Yes, Miss,” he said, picking up the two heavy suitcases.
He carried the luggage and artwork out to her car and loaded
it expertly into the trunk, fitting all the luggage, paintings and
sketches together snugly so nothing would get damaged.
“A long trip, Miss?” he asked her.
“Yes, Harry. A long, private trip. You’re not to tell anyone,”
she said.
“What should I say if Mr. White asks me where you’ve gone?”
“Tell him you don’t know. Because you won’t know.”
Harry packed up Trixie’s things and put on the dog’s harness
and fastened her safely in the car while Caroline paused again to
take one last look at the magnificent house, her home for the past
five years, a two-story structure of wood painted white with dark
blue shutters. The long, graceful circular driveway was paved with
gravel and the three acres of rich, green lawn behind the house
seemed to stretch to the next town. The grass was clipped to
perfection, thanks to a team of gardeners. The azaleas in the front of
the house, under the large windows of the living room were
blooming in pink and white. May was the most beautiful time of the
year here.
She thought for a moment about the fabulous parties they
threw there, especially the ones introducing her art shows. Brad
urged her to expand her art subjects, and he became her biggest
promoter. He threw elaborate parties to introduce his rich friends
to Caroline’s art. His money and influence got her work shown in
the toniest galleries in New York City and Connecticut. She became
a celebrity in the art world.
Brad saw her as his creation and took credit for her success.
Caroline, a shy twenty-eight-year-old woman when they married,
was uneasy in the spotlight but she kept painting and doing what
Brad directed in an effort to make him happy. She was born to
please but try as she might, she didn’t seem able to please Brad into
being faithful to her.
She felt sad to leave. This would be the first failed marriage
in the White family for one hundred years. Remaining married was
an important tradition for The Whites. They had all lived,
reproduced and prospered in this house, even the staff had been
there before Caroline arrived. Her day-to-day existence with plenty
of household help had been one of great comfort as well as her own
private dungeon.
Caroline knew where she was going would not be nearly as
lavish, but still she had to leave. After a few years of a decent
marriage, Brad had cheated on her. In the last two years, the
cheating had become so blatant Caroline could barely endure it. Yet
when confronted, Brad told her he had been faithful to her for four
years, counting the year of their engagement, the longest he had
ever been faithful to anyone; she should be flattered and take this in
her stride.
Gradually, the hurt and humiliation from his cheating
eroded her affection for him, which had never been overwhelming
to begin with. Her mother, Linda, wanted her to marry rich so she
would be well taken care of and not have to struggle, like the Davis’
did, so when Brad proposed, she did what her mother wanted and
married him.
Unbeknown to Caroline, Linda had been terminally ill when
Brad proposed. She worried about who would take care of her
daughter after she was gone. It never dawned on her Caroline could
take care of herself. They were married the next year and the year
after that, Linda died, content in the knowledge that her daughter
would be well provided for.
Now at thirty-three, Caroline was ready to shed the skin she
wore for her mother and strike out on her own.
“Will I see you again, Miss?” Harry asked as he closed the
door on the Mazda for her.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Then I wish you well. Been a pleasure drivin’ you and all,”
he said, bowing, his limp brown hair falling in his eyes.
“Thank you,” she said, starting the engine and putting the car
in gear.

TO BE CONTINUED...TOMORROW, CHAPTER TWO!!

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Six Sentences, a taste of "Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights"

Mike put his large hand with long slender fingers over
Sunny’s on the table and rubbed his thumb over the white mark
where her wedding ring used to be.
“Are you married?” he asked, glancing at her finger then
looking in her eyes.
“Not anymore,” she lied, looking away from him.
“Looks pretty recent,” he probed, fingering the whiteness of
the mark.
She nodded.
“I suppose that’s another reason why you are here,” he stated.
“You could say that,” she admitted feeling her heartbeat
quicken at the thought of the truth coming out.


If you missed earlier snippets from "Six Sentence Sunday" scroll down to the archive section on the right where you will find earlier snippets that will catch you up on Sunny and Mike's past.

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SCAVENGER HUNT INTERVIEW

INTERVIEW WITH THE HEROINE FROM “SUNNY DAYS, MOONLIT NIGHTS”

Today we’re talking with famous artist, Caroline Davis White.

“Good morning, Ms. White…”

“Please, call me Sunny, all my friends do.”

“Okay, Sunny, tell me how you came to meet and marry Brad White.”

“I met Brad at a charity function.”

“Did you date long before getting married?”

“We dated for over a year.”

“Were you undecided about marrying such a rich man?”

“I guess I was a little reluctant…he wasn’t my prince charming, but my mom wanted me to marry him, so I could be taken care of.”

“So you married him for her? Do women still do that these days?”

“I did. Not a wise decision, but I’ve always wanted to please my mom and not been too successful at it.”

“So what happened with Brad?”

“The first few years were pretty good. Brad gave me an art studio and I spent a lot of time painting and drawing…maybe too much time…”

“What do you mean?”

“Brad was into art. He worked hard to make me  famous, but once he did, the excitement wore off for him. Brad always needed a new challenge. After a while, he found that challenge in other…uh…activities.”                                                                                

“Oh, I see. Do you consider his extra activities your fault then because you spent so much time painting?”

“Not really. A man can find hobbies other than cheating on his wife to fill spare time.”

“Of course he can! *pats Sunny’s arm* So Brad was cheating on you?”

*she looks down at the floor, color creeps into her cheeks*

She nods.

“Seems to me with a beautiful wife like you at home, he’d have a hard time finding someone better.”

“It wasn’t that. The thrill of the chase, always the thrill of the chase, even with me. Brad likes to win and a business deal that doesn’t work out or a woman he can’t have become obsessions with him.”

“How did you find out?”

“Brad hid it well, always had a cover story and a friend who would lie for him, so it took me a long time to find out…years in fact. But when I did, I saw it was happening more and more and he was getting careless, earrings in the car, an embarrassed chauffeur trying to lie for him…”

“Did he break your heart?”

She nodded.

“Why didn’t you leave him sooner?”

“I had nowhere to go. I have no family and no money of my own.”

“Did you confront him?”

“Several times, but he denied everything.”

“Did you have evidence?”

“Nothing I could use. But he knew I knew, so he stopped for a little while then started up again but became even more cautious.”

“It must have been lonely for  you…”

“It was. We lived in a big…beautiful…house. The house felt like a prison after a while. Then when he sent his friend over to proposition me…”

“He sent a friend to seduce you?”

She nodded.

“Stan, Stan Cauley.”

“What did you do?”

“I threw him out of the house. Then I knew I had to get out.”

“You left right after that?”

“I did. Immediately. I ran away.”

“But you have found happiness now, haven’t you?”

“I’m happier than I have ever been…with the right man and time to paint…and of course, my pug, Trixie!” *pug jumps in lap, licks face*

“What a cute dog! Great name, Trixie.”

“Thank you.”

“We’re out of time. I want to thank artist, Sunny Davis, for this interview. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

“Thank you.”


Six Sentence Sunday snippet:

Mike put his large hand with long slender fingers over
Sunny’s on the table and rubbed his thumb over the white mark
where her wedding ring used to be.
“Are you married?” he asked, glancing at her finger then
looking in her eyes.
“Not anymore,” she lied, looking away from him.
“Looks pretty recent,” he probed, fingering the whiteness of
the mark.
She nodded.
“I suppose that’s another reason why you are here,” he stated.
“You could say that,” she admitted feeling her heartbeat
quicken at the thought of the truth coming out.


If you missed earlier snippets from "Six Sentence Sunday" scroll down to the archive section on the right where you will find earlier snippets that will catch you up on Sunny and Mike's past.

Buy links
Amazon
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Astraea Press

Six Sentences, a taste of "Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights"

Mike put his large hand with long slender fingers over
Sunny’s on the table and rubbed his thumb over the white mark
where her wedding ring used to be.
“Are you married?” he asked, glancing at her finger then
looking in her eyes.
“Not anymore,” she lied, looking away from him.
“Looks pretty recent,” he probed, fingering the whiteness of
the mark.
She nodded.
“I suppose that’s another reason why you are here,” he stated.
“You could say that,” she admitted feeling her heartbeat
quicken at the thought of the truth coming out.


If you missed earlier snippets from "Six Sentence Sunday" scroll down to the archive section on the right where you will find earlier snippets that will catch you up on Sunny and Mike's past.

Buy links
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Astraea Press

PREQUEL TO "SUNNY DAYS, MOONLIT NIGHTS" Installment #4

Previously:

  "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.  

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