Skin Deep Chapter 1

Chapter 1



I wish I had worn different underwear. I’m uncomfortable: my panties have crept too far north since I changed into my scrubs. I lean up against the nurse’s station and covertly wiggle, hoping to dislodge the fabric that seems intent on riding up. Of all the stupid things to do. I know better than to model new undergarments at work - always stick with dependable briefs. That’s what I get for wanting to feel feminine under the boring blue unisex uniform.“Something get stuck?” a rich baritone ask from behind me.

“No!” I blurt out defensively. I have to look up because when I turn to face my accuser all I see is chest. The wink and amused quirk to his mouth infer he must be joking, or else he doesn’t believe me, I don’t really know. Mortified, I turn away as heat floods my face in a rosy blush. My pale complexion fails, like always, to hide my embarrassment despite how stoically I school my expression. Feeling his blue eyes still watching me I pray and give God what I feel are three very acceptable options. One, this is all a dream and my first day of residency didn’t really just start off with a cute co-resident catching me working out a wedge. Two, the world comes to an end, overshadowing the last few minutes and our conversation. Or three, orientation will begin and give Dr. Good Looking with the boyish charm something else to focus his attention on.

Not three seconds later Dr. Baker’s booming voice calls our mismatched group of surgical residents to order, proving God does exist. Mentally I cross myself and vow to look into attending mass later this week after I get settled in. Pretending to focus on the welcoming address I tactfully ignore Dr. Good Looking, who hasn’t budged an inch. My palms are sweating and I will Dr. Baker to talk faster and get on with the tour so I can put some distance between me and the presumptive male resident. They only accept three candidates a year into the integrated plastics residency at Oregon Health and Science University so chances are good that if I can just escape this nurse’s station I won’t have to spend much time with what’s-his-face again. Likely he’s one of the many general or orthopedic surgery residents. He certainly has that I’m-too-good-for-everyone-else quality that a lot of orthopedic guys exude.

“Now if you will all follow me, I’ll show you everything the campus has to offer.”

Now’s my chance! Stealthily I slip between the shuffling bodies like only a short person can, positioning myself toward the head of the line. With each passing step I begin to relax. OHSU is a premiere facility, nestled on top of a hill overlooking downtown Portland. The over five hundred bed facility is a nationally prominent research university and Oregon’s only public academic health center. The only downside to the otherwise picturesque setting can be seen drizzling down on the windows anytime you gaze outside. I’m a transplant from southern California so I’m not a fan of the dreary storm clouds that seem to dominate the sky.

By the time we reach the surgical suites my mood has drastically improved. Daring a glance behind I check to see where the guy from earlier ended up, but thanks to my small stature it’s next to impossible to see over the herd of people and I fail to make visual contact.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry,” I say as I inadvertently bump into the woman in front of me. Focused yet again on the cute guy from this morning I’d been oblivious to the fact we’d stopped. Glaring at me like I’m a wad of gum she’s just stepped in she doesn’t speak a word, dismissing me with a turn of her head when Dr. Baker begins speaking again.

Wow you’ve got issues! I’m amazed by her incredibly rude behavior. Well, I did run into her I remind myself and decide to cut her some slack. I chastise myself and promise to forget about what’s-his-name and pay closer attention to what I’m doing, annoyed that he’s managed to humiliate me twice in one day.

This is my first day of residency! All of my hard work and self-sacrifice over the last few years has finally paid off. I’ve been called up to the majors, and I realize I’m missing it when our group starts moving again and I can’t recall a single thing Dr. Baker just told us.

I better get my shit together. I get lost in my own head a lot; it’s the only place I’m truly comfortable, besides the operating room. The only problem with walking around locked in your own head all the time is that you miss things going on around you. A lot of things, like the Asian woman I’d unintentionally stepped on and the attending physician to whom I was supposed to be listening.

“Please save your questions for your residency coordinator. I trust you all remember who your residency coordinator is.” Dr. Baker winks knowingly because there’s one in every crowd: that student who shows up unprepared on the first day without books, syllabus, or knowing the name of their supervising physician. “You will need to locate them to obtain your rotation and work schedule. Have a great day,” Dr. Baker finishes and dismisses us.

Pulling my informational packet from my purple folder I run a finger over the section pertaining to me and review the details I know by heart, having reread the material repeatedly since my acceptance letter came. Dr. Trisha Gunderson, a fourth year resident, will be my supervising physician for the foreseeable future. Her resume is quite impressive - I know because I googled her. I even tracked down the couple of journal articles she co-published in med school. Swallowing the anxious lump in my throat that’s comprised of two parts excitement and one part nerves I meander through the halls and head to find Dr. Gunderson. I scoped out the hospital ahead of time so I know where the small office the residency coordinators share is located, but what I don’t know is if she’ll be there. A surgeon’s schedule is dictated by “The Board,” which sounds more ominous than it really is. In actuality it’s just a large dry erase board that lists all the surgeries planned for the day. There is little wiggle room between cases which is why when a trauma or emergent event comes in through the emergency department everyone scrambles to make room and realign the elective cases so everything still gets done. “The Board” runs a surgeon’s life and luxuries such as food and recreation often go right out the window on a hectic day.

Side stepping a gurney I enter the open office with fingers crossed that Dr. Gunderson is inside. Just my luck the tall, slightly sour-looking woman rummaging through a stack of paperwork a mile high on the left hand desk is just whom I’m looking for. She glances up and acknowledges me by gesturing with a raised finger for me to wait. Biting my tongue I clutch my folder to my chest while butterflies perform acrobatics in my stomach.

“You must be Veronica,” she guesses, continuing to ignore me while she completes her task. “Ah ha!” she announces. Turning proudly she graces me with a smile, and it’s the kind of look that makes you wonder just how friendly she really is. Something about the gesture feels forced and the sentiment doesn’t reach her eyes, which size me up in two seconds flat. Standing tall under the scrutiny I do the only thing I can: smile back genuinely and hope that whatever snap judgment she’s already made about me puts me on her good side.

“This is your rotation and work schedule. Pay particular attention to the nights you’re on-call and plan your life accordingly.” I nod and accept the paper she’s dangling in front of my face. “We are not friends, and I hate sucking up. That being said, apply yourself, work hard, and maybe someday we will be,” she says and smirks as if to say that no one’s lived up to the challenge yet. “Walk with me, I’m due in operating room two,” she orders, jetting out of the office. I dodge another resident in the doorway as I speed walk to catch her. “Get lunch. When I’m done,” she glances at her watch, “which should be around 1400 we’ll regroup with your co-residents in the library to discuss what’s expected of you. Welcome to the pros,” she tacks on, ducking through the doors that separate the surgical area from the rest of the hospital.

I linger in her wake, staring numbly at the doors through which she disappeared, only vaguely aware I’m smack dab in the middle of a hallway blocking everything. Like a whirlwind, she seems to have sucked all the energy from the room inside with her, leaving the rest of us with little to get by on.

Man I can’t wait to get in there!

“Excuse me miss,” one of the housekeepers says, trying to maneuver a supply cart past me.

“Oh sorry,” I mumble stepping aside. Pulling myself together I turn around and shuffle off, trying to remember how to get to the cafeteria.



* * *



With my tray in hand I survey the boisterous dining hall with trepidation. Striking up conversations with complete strangers has never been my forte, but the place is packed so disappearing to an empty table in the back is not an option. Scanning the room a second time I lock onto the familiar face of the Asian resident I ran into on the tour. Oh Lord, here we go I tell myself, deciding I’ve got a better shot approaching someone I work with than trying to convince a visitor to make room for me. Plus stranger germs scare me to death.

“Is this seat taken?” I ask, extra sugary sweet.

“No, it’s free,” she responds emotionlessly. I take this as a good sign; at least she spoke to me this time. Setting down my tray I pull out a chair and am preparing to sit when my table companion does something most unexpected: she grabs her stuff and vacates her seat like a bee has just stung her on the behind. Dumping her garbage she exits the cafeteria without a second glance my direction. Completely dejected, I seat myself as casually as possible and hope that amidst the chaotic environment no one else noticed our interaction. I unfold my napkin and glance up only to make eye contact with the pretty boy who’d been teasing me this morning. It becomes blatantly obvious that there was at least one keen observer to my most recent fiasco. Ducking down to hide my blush I focus on forcing myself to look normal and eat.

“Still not making any friends I see.” The baritone voice chuckles while approaching my table.

He actually came over here! I stare at his loafers and want to die. Why is he here? Did I do something wrong in another life? Am I doomed to have this guy forever showing up at my most awkward moments? News flash: it’s already getting old.

I attempt a weak smile since speech seems to have completely abandoned me.

“I’m Archie,” he says sliding into the seat across from me with an easy confidence. “And you are?” he presses when I don’t automatically introduce myself like etiquette dictates.

“Veronica,” I state flatly. Amused, his face draws up in an appreciative grin that draws attention to his full, sensual lips.

“And what specialty brings you to OHSU?” he inquires as his blue eyes snap with mirth.

I just can’t fathom what’s so funny…is he laughing at me? If he’s not I’d really like in on the joke, I think before answering. “Plastic surgery. I’m starting the integrated residency program.”

“Me too,” he announces resting his arms on the table top.

Fate really is out to get me.

“I really make you uncomfortable, don’t I?” he muses, picking up on my horrified expression no doubt.

“No,” I lie unconvincingly. Under normal circumstances I don’t think Archie would make me uncomfortable at all: he’s cute and friendly. It’s just that he caught me working out a wedgie this morning and I can’t let it go.

“Reconstruction?” he inquires breaking up my thoughts.

“Huh, what’d you say?” I ask, feeling like I may have missed an earlier question.

“I said did you choose plastics to specialize in reconstruction?”

“Yes, how did you know that?” I answer, baffled. Archie is reading me like a book and I still can’t figure out why he seems on the verge of bursting into laughter.

“You’re not the type who goes into it for the boobs.”

“Alright wise guy, why did you choose plastic surgery?” I ask, hoping to deflect the attention off of me.

“The boobs,” he answers as his crystal blue eyes sparkle.

“Are you kidding me!” I exclaim with irritation. He really is just an asshole wrapped in a nice package.

“That was so worth it,” he laughs, clearly unfazed by my look of scorn. “The look on your face…”

“I’m out of here,” I interrupt, as I stand.

“No wait,” he pleads grabbing my wrist and pulling me back to the table. “I was kidding.” I’m willing to hear him out for some reason so I sit. “My wife is the one who’s interested in the boobs and all the other imperfections I’ll be able to fix as she gets older.”

“Oh,” I whisper caught by surprise.

“Don’t misunderstand, she’s not the vain type. It’s just something we like to joke about.”

I like the way he defends his wife and appreciate her sense of humor. “She sounds nice.”

“Kate is the best,” he answers, wearing that dopey expression guys sometimes get when thinking about the object of their affection. “I’m an artist and I love medicine. Plastic surgery allows me to combine my two passions and that’s why I chose it. Here, let me show you.” He indicates for me to scoot my chair closer and pulls his phone out of his white coat. “See what I mean,” he says as he flips through pictures of what I presume is his artwork.

“Archie, those are incredible!” I mean it - his collection of sketches and paintings are quite impressive.

“What’s so funny?” I finally ask, fed up with the humorous way he keeps eyeing me.

“I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out,” he smirks.

“Figure what out?” I stare blankly, clueless as to what he’s talking about.

“Come on, I’m a redhead named Archie and you’re a raven haired beauty named Veronica. Nothing about that is remotely comical to you? Didn’t you read comics when you were a kid?”

Of course, Archie and the Gang! I used to beg our housekeeper to buy me a copy whenever I was fortunate enough to accompany her to the grocery store.

“Oh my goodness, you don’t think the third resident in our program will be our Betty do you?” I blurt out excitedly and then quickly become anxious because what I’ve just said is totally stupid.

“Not unless Erica Chin changes her name and bleaches her hair,” Archie continues to joke.

“Who?”

“Your lunch companion for all of five seconds.”

“That was her?” Of their own accord, my eyes travel toward the exit where I’d last seen the frigid woman.

Of all the people in the world for me to end up with, I get partnered with a comic book character and the most unfriendly woman alive. As I dial back into my conversation with Archie I notice another familiar face several tables over.

“Do you know who that is?” I whisper excitedly, whipping my head around before he can notice me.

“Who? Dr. Bates?” Archie asks.

“Yes silly,” I hiss like it should have been obvious who I was talking about. The fabulous Dr. Bates is sitting just three tables away from me; I practically swoon in my chair. The guy is a plastic surgery god and everything he does is a masterpiece. He’s one of the leading minds in the field of reconstruction, a complete genius, and one of my heroes. I never miss a conference where Dr. Brenden Bates is slotted to speak and truth be told, he’s one of the reasons I applied to OHSU. To work with him I’d gladly take the worst weather Portland has to offer.

“Guy’s a total prick.”

Dumfounded I stare at Archie. Did he really just call my idol a prick? “He’s a fabulous surgeon,” I counter.

“Doesn’t mean he’s not a prick.” Checking his watch he rises and states, “Come on Snow, it’s almost two and we’ve got places to be.”

“Snow?” I question, half out of my chair.

“Yeah, as in Snow White.”

“Because I’m the fairest in the land?” The vain reply leaps from my lips before I can stop it.

“Fair, yes and way too wholesome to be a Ronnie,” he chuckles.

Wow. I have a side-kick, a nemesis, and a nickname all on my first day. Picking up my feet to catch Archie, who has already exited the cafeteria, I fret over what fate has in store for me should I choose to get out of bed tomorrow.

The Wanderer Series

Cursed to walk alone ... desperate to be together.

The Wanderer journey takes another shocking turn in book 3, and perhaps stirs up more questions than answers. Don't worry book four will reveal all, as well as place you in the head of the most intriguing member of the brotherhood. From his unique perspective you will learn how nothing in any of the first four books was by chance.

Enjoy Within My Grasp,  but stay hungry for Against All Odds.

Sneak Peak

Within My Grasp Prologue

I laugh as the late night host takes a jab at the guest on his show and I settle back on the sofa. Using the thick ring I wear I pop the top off the cold beer I’ve just retrieved from the fridge and take a long swig. I’m not really one for jewelry but over time I’ve grown accustomed to the heavy band and some of its finer functions, like how it doubles as a bottle opener quite nicely. With a flick of my wrist I toss the cap on the coffee table and try to focus on the television, but I struggle. I’m tired. It’s nothing new; I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t exhausted. Had to be before David, I surmise. Surely I’d slept better before the little monster latched onto me?

     As my thoughts shift toward the child I mute the television and turn toward the closed door across the apartment, behind which he lies sleeping. My keen Wanderer hearing doesn’t detect anything amiss, in fact it doesn’t detect anything at all, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. A paralyzing fear snakes its way through my stomach and before I can think twice I’m off the sofa. Mother’s instinct…that’s how one of the women at the M.O.P.S. (Mothers of Preschoolers) group I’d been going to had described it. At the time I’d thought she was nuts and had almost let her know, using very specific terminology that there was no fucking way I was plagued by some feminine sixth sense. Then I remembered that they all thought I was a woman, thanks to a little mental tampering on my part so I could fit in. Looking at it in that context her assessment wasn’t so offensive, I decided. Still I’d Googled that shit when I got home only to discover she’d been spot on. The unexplainable feelings of dread that I sometimes get are apparently frequent in mothers of small children.

     In a flash I’m barreling through David’s door with no consideration for the sleeping occupant. I can feel a light breeze from the window that I don’t remember leaving open and panicking I flip on a light. I run to the bed and yank back the covers that I find nothing out of the ordinary despite already knowing something is very, very wrong.

   “David?” I yell. Sweat beads on my forehead as my eyes dart from the empty bed to the fluttering curtains and lock on to the malevolent grin and dark luminescent eyes floating in the shadows. I lunge for the Sylph calmly hovering mere inches beyond the window sill.

   “David,” he says, mimicking my cry with mocking humor. Before I can get my hands on him he dissipates, leaving tufts of bright smoke that swiftly extinguish before my eyes.

   “David!” I bellow again, fingers dug so tightly into the window frame that it cracks. I clutch at my chest and spin about disoriented; it’s difficult to think. I have to move, I have to find him. My battle-ready body responds to the simple command and all higher reasoning checks out. I leap through the window into the night; it’s time to hunt.

Wanderer Series book 3

Within My Grasp is now available for pre-order (releasing February 8th)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1uEbMf2
iBooks: http://bit.ly/1xZiDHc
Nook: http://bit.ly/1tspz8e
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1rqVK8g

October Freebies

Indulgence is FREE on Amazon October 6th and 7th

Free

In anticipation of Wanderer Series book 3 Within My Grasp (set to release early next year) I have made book 1 Out of Reach free on all ebook platforms.

Sale!!

Free 8/6/14 only on Amazon.

July Sale

I'm very excited to have Skin Deep and Out of Reach included in a Smashwords only promotion.  The month of July both books will be free through Smashwords.  If you're looking for a NA or paranormal romance now is the time to grab these gems.

SKIN DEEP

OUT OF REACH

Indulgence Released

Get the fireworks started early. Indulgence is now available on all platforms.

iBooks: http://bit.ly/1uHyhAA
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/446457
Barnes and Noble: http://m.barnesandnoble.com/w/indulgence-jocelyn-stover/1119720728
Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00LFWOSTG

Indulgence pre-sale

Indulgence releases July 1st but is available for pre-sale now on iBooks and Barnes and Noble.

INDULGENCE

A steamy romance that will be releasing July 1st. Check it out on goodreads and share the news with your friends.

INDULGENCE

APRIL update

SKIN DEEP is has done amazingly well its first month and I'm so thankful for the new readers and friends I've made because of that book. 
On the horizon I have an adult romance scheduled to come out this summer and I'm hitting the keys hard trying to get Wanderer book 3 out by fall.

Another Skin Deep Teaser

 Taking a much needed swig of my beer I look away and pretend to watch the fireworks. I’ve worked long hours in the pit the last couple of weeks so I’m happy to say I know Chad a little bit better, professionally speaking, than I did when I accepted the Fourth of July invite. He’s a meticulous and capable physician,  also one of those guys born with an abundance of quiet self-confidence, the type that just know they are awesome in their bones and don’t have to try. Couple that with his tall, not overly muscular body and pretty boy face and you’ve got most women’s version of heaven. Me, I consider him a recipe for disaster. His type makes me exceedingly uncomfortable because I never know what they are thinking unless they come right out and say it, and let’s face it, most guys are not that forward. Being unable to read the looks he sometimes casts my direction has given me butterflies and sweaty armpits on more than one occasion.

 “Do I make you nervous Veronica?”

Holy shit! Yes you make me nervous, very, very nervous. You’re probably the only person on this entire boat who isn’t busy worrying about themselves and what everyone else thinks about them. You’re dangerous… you seem to see past the bologna and straight to the heart of people.   

            “No. I mean, we don’t really know each other, but no.” I lie and tear my gaze away from the fireworks to look at him. Someone once told me eye contact makes any lie more convincing.

Smirking, Chad takes another sip of beer, seemingly unconvinced. “You’re very pretty.”

            “Thanks,” I toss back, unimpressed.

I know I’m pretty - my parents’ superficial friends had nothing better to say about me so they reiterated over and over for my mother’s benefit that at least I was pretty, and pretty girls always make it in this world.

             “Ouch, would you have preferred I say you were ugly?” He laughs. Apparently my reply had contained more frost than intended. Thank God for the blanket that’s preventing him from seeing the rings of sweat developing on my shirt.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” I mumble sheepishly.

            “I’m hurt but I think we can fix that.” Sultry brown eyes scrutinize me, sending the butterflies in my stomach into a flurry, but the humorous twist of his mouth makes me think he’s just teasing me for my offensive retort.

Could he be flirting with me?

            “I think you should take me to dinner,” he says matter of fact without a hint of arrogance.

            “You do,” I merely state in response.  Yup definitely flirting… where is that good for nothing scoundrel Archie when you need him? 

Sucked into my own head again, it takes a minute to realize Chad is waiting, brows raised, for me to respond.

            “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t date co-workers,” I reply at last.

A slight frown before he downs the last of his beer is the only indication he gives that I’ve confounded him by coming up with a loophole he can’t ignore.

            “You’re new to Portland, right?”

            “Right.” I answer the rhetorical question well aware he knows I’m not from around here.

            “There’s this novelty bakery with the best donuts on the planet. Let me be the first to introduce you to it.”

Donuts huh? That’s not a date, that’s a quick stop off before work. Twenty minute tops - I can do that.

            “You can’t live in Portland without experiencing Voodoo Donuts at least once.”

            “Voodoo Donuts,” I repeat, sure that I hadn’t heard him right but the humorous quirk to his mouth and his guileless expression let me know I got it right the first time.

What the hell kind of bakery has a name like that? 

            “Okay so what morning do you want to do this?” I ask.

He stands and reaches for the empty drink I wasn’t aware I had finished then ambles toward the ladder. Set to descend he flashes me a victorious playboy smile.

“Oh no one goes to Voodoo donuts for breakfast. It’s more of a late night venture.” Stunned, I miss my opportunity to back out as Chad quickly drops out of sight. I’d been had.

Warning, warning! Donuts in the middle of the night…that’s so a date!

Is it on your Goodreads Shelf ?

Skin Deep Release Right Around the Corner

As the release date for Skin Deep (March 4th 2014) quickly approaches it's past time for me to post the synopsis and Goodreads link so you can get it on you to be read list:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20655105-skin-deep

Cuts heal…
Veronica has never felt comfortable in her own skin and spent a lifetime shying away from the spotlight until she found medicine. Now at the top of her game and poised to begin her residency, she is chosen for one of a handful of coveted positions at the facility of her idol, the surgical genius Dr. Bates.

Bruises fade…
Arriving at OHSU Veronica isn’t expecting anyone, least of all her idol, to notice her. So when she catches the eye of a cute attending in the Emergency Room she’s taken by surprise. His cool reserved manner unsettles her and she’d trade his interest in a heartbeat for an ounce of acknowledgement from the mouth watering Dr. Bates. Intimidated in the presence of her idol she innocently stalks him day after day in the cafeteria, nurturing fantasies about when their paths will intersect and she’ll have the opportunity to work beside him. When a hospital fundraiser finally puts her on Dr. Bates' radar vying for his instruction quickly turns into vying for his affection.

But scars linger…
The line of professionalism blurs as Veronica falls hard for the good doctor but a series of poor decisions threaten to destroy it all. As she struggles with damage control her rose colored glasses are shattered. The men in her life are not as she imagined and she finds herself desperately trying to unravel their convoluted history. Can Veronica discover the truth and find away to salvage her career and her heart?

Saturday Teaser

Skin Deep - coming in March

Release Announcement

Skin Deep my new contemporary romance will be available March 4th. 

Add it to your Goodreads shelf

 https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20655105-skin-deep

Closing out 2013

This last year has been a whirlwind. It's hard to believe that last December I had just published my first manuscript. I've met so many wonder people in Indie business since then, I feel truly blessed. As this year closes out The first two books of the Wanderer Series (Out of Reach and A Step Away) have been published and I'm getting started on book 3. The contemporary romance I've been working on entitled Skin Deep is finished and should be available early 2014. I've also got a 100 pages or so scribbled out of another romance. I can't wait to see what else 2014 has in store! Happy reading everyone.

Zafir and I don't see eye to eye regarding the series

“I’ve got a fucking bone to pick with you,” Zafir yells as he storms into my office. Agitated, he stomps about on his tree trunk legs, crushing the life out of my springy shag rug. Normally my characters don’t bother me before 9 a.m. They know my brain just can’t process anything before then and that likely whatever they do say will go in one ear and out the other. I decide to make an exception: I know that with Z in his current state of uproar he isn’t likely to remain quiet till then.

            “I’m listening,” I reply when all I really want to say is “can’t this wait?” I smile, proud of myself for suppressing the usual venom that flavors my early morning conversations. A snarky attitude is definitely not going to win me any points with the mountain of muscle standing before me. I mean, Z could literally steam roll me without even breaking a sweat.

            “I want a rewrite.”

            “Oh,” I say, perking up while my mind tries to flush out the mistake he’s obviously come across. “Well okay. We’ve got some time. A Step Away isn’t scheduled for publication until fall…” I pause, speechless, as he slowly shakes his head from side to side.

            “This shit I’m talking about goes all the way back to the beginning.”

            “Out of Reach?” I glare incredulously into his flashing grey eyes. “What’s wrong with it?”

            “I’m being misrepresented,” he answers smugly.

            “You most certainly are not!” I fight back, insulted by his proclamation.

            He scowls as he thinks for a second. “What’s the word that means the opposite of plagiarism?”

            “Huh?” The inelegant reply slips out as I sit there dumbfounded, unable to comprehend where he’s going with this.

            “Fine,” he moves on, seeing how I’m unable or unwilling to help him. “I’m being incorrectly plagiarized,” he explains. “People aren’t getting the real me.”

Not getting the real you? I almost laugh out loud. I think I’ve done a rather good job portraying the real Zafir, and believe me it wasn’t always easy. He snatches the first hardbound copy ever produced of Out of Reach off of my shelf then begins rifling through pages.

            “Hey, careful with that!” I yell.

            “See right here!” he announces triumphantly, turning the book around and sticking it under my nose.

            “See what?” I ask as I lean back so that the small print isn’t blurry. Rolling his eyes, he flips the book around and reads, “Just give me the short version.”

            “Yeah, you said that, so what?” I ask him while still struggling to see his point.

            “I did not fucking say that. Does that even sound like me?”

            “It’s basically what you said,” I answer, hoping to placate him.

            “You see, that is what I’m talking about. It’s misrepresentation. I remember very clearly that I told Kade to cut to the fucking chase.”

            “Really, you’re mad because I took out an F-bomb?”

            “It wasn’t just one,” he grumbles, folding his arms across his chest.

            “Flip the page,” I instruct. “As you’ll see, you use the F-word at least three times in the next passage.”

            “What?” he blurts out as he quickly scans through the next scene.

            “You’ve messed things up there as well. I won’t stand for this kind of censorship. It violates my freedom of speech.” Dropping my head on the desk I keep my groan of disbelief to myself: is this for real?

“Readers deserve the real me,” he rambles on.
            “Look,” I tell him, sitting up and taking charge of the conversation. “I’m sorry but you rely too heavily on the one word. It’s redundant and that kind of repetition wears on readers. Try throwing in a more descriptive adjective now and again.”

 “What? Clearly you don’t understand the power of a good fuck.”

“Clearly,” I repeat, rubbing my temples in exasperation. Burning grey eyes rimmed with electricity spark as he rests his hands on my desk and leans in close. Too close. Gulping, I press myself back as far as I can against my chair, nervous I’ve pushed him too far.

“F***, ****, ****, ****,****,” he chants, the inflection of his gravelly voice changing with each expletive.      

            “You’ve made your point,” I say and giggle, unable to keep a straight face. “You’ve clearly demonstrated the versatility of the word.” 

Leaning back smugly he crosses his arms over his chest. “And…,” he presses.

            “Fine, you can curse more in the next book,” I capitulate, tossing my arms in the air. Satisfied, he turns to go.

            “Oh, one more thing.”

            “Yes,” I grind out, more than ready to be left alone.

            “Kade and Ben get a lot of play so maybe you could get a little more of this in the next one,” he winks as he strikes the classic Adonis pose.

            “Get out of here and let me finish my morning Coke!” I yell then toss a pen at him.

            “Just a thought,” he teases, finally exiting my office with all the humility of a prowling lion.    

           

A Step Away is here!

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A Step Away

Prologue

A brutal wind whips his face, and the exposed rock upon which he stands provides no protection from the harsh desert climate. It’s no matter; the elements are nothing more than a trifle annoyance. With that thought, Himyar cocoons himself in an invisible shield that keeps the swirling sandstorm at bay.  Removing a silk scarf from around his nose and mouth he continues his survey of the canyon below. The souls of his brothers cry out to him, he can feel their essence and their energy in his blood. They are close, almost within his grasp. Himyar remains cautious though, not wanting to risk discovery by the Wanderers just yet. All magic leaves a residue and the ground below him is littered with theirs. When he deems it safe, slowly he descends from his perch with his highly tuned senses alert for the slightest sign of movement.

 After centuries of enslavement escape was bittersweet. Himyar’s brief periods outside of his sphere had not prepared him for this world, and he’d had to spend the last few months educating himself and adapting to his new environment before making this pilgrimage. He was returning to where it all began - a hidden canyon in the Arabian Desert bordering a place they now call Jordan. This trip down memory lane is a first for Himyar, who has not been back since the original sealing. Clenching his fists he tries to suppress the angry wave that rolls down his body elicited by the memory of those self -righteous angels. But no matter, what’s done is done Himyar reminds himself as the black-eyed rage subsides slightly. The future is what matters now.

 His senses had led him to this place of sand and rock: a valley he'd never intended to stalk through again.  He is attracted by the pull of his brethren through an unexplainable tie all Sylph share. Approaching the mouth of the largest cave in the ravine, Himyar becomes giddy with anticipation, and his anger is temporarily forgotten. They are inside, he can feel them. Not being a fool, Himyar hesitates at the cavern’s entrance, well aware that the Wanderers will be alerted to his arrival the moment he steps inside. Closing his eyes a moment he reaches out with his mind, casting about for the strange consciousness that is unique to the Wanderers. Finding nothing, Himyar’s eyes snap open and he grins, fully convinced the Wanderers aren't here. It goes without saying that the place will be booby trapped, but in order to bring about the glorious future Himyar has dreamt about he needs to free the others. To accomplish that dream he must find them first. Wicked mirth lights his face at the knowledge that a large majority of Sylph lay just inside. By now the Wanderers know Himyar has escaped his prison and is loose in the world, and an opportunity like this might never present itself again. With confident resolution Himyar follows his gut into the cave in search of his brothers, hoping time has made the Wanderers sloppy.

*  *  * 

Bleep, bleep, bleep. A monitor chimes loudly in the command center of the Wanderers’ Utah facility. Cracking his neck, Basal runs a hand over his face, attempting to wipe away his exhaustion. He rolls his chair across the floor, silencing the alarm with a few simple key strokes and then brings a live video feed up on the main screen. Someone has gained access to Essam and tripped the motion sensors in The Vault of Souls. "Looks like he swallowed the bait," Bass reflects out loud as the face of Himyar greets him on the display. From the safety of his seat in Utah, Bass watches while a very irate Himyar gazes around the empty cavern seemingly stunned. As he stifles a laugh over what is most certainly not a funny situation, Basal witnesses the fit of fury that seizes Himyar. Staring straight at the camera he mouths something unintelligible seconds before bursting into flameless fire and fleeing the vicinity.

"That went about as well as could be expected," Basal mumbles as a chill threads its way up his spine. Quickly saving the feed he then pulls his cell phone from his pocket and calls Adil.

 "It's happened."