Not because he was dead, but because it was 4:34 A.M. In too much pain to stretch, I let a lengthy yawn overtake me instead, winced at the soreness shooting through my jaw, then looked back at Dead Guy.
The quart of Chunky Monkey I ate after getting my ass kicked had probably been a bad idea. While I normally weighed around 125 … ish, for some unexplainable reason, between the hours of partially awake and fully awake, I weighed a solid 470.Īfter a brief, beached whale–like struggle, I gave up. Similar to the coherent-thought problem, this was easier said than done. I hung up back, pressing a button on my new phone that either disconnected the call or speed-dialed the Chinese takeout around the corner. He sighed, clearly annoyed, then hung up. I even managed a reply, something resembling, “What twirly nugget are you from?” I concentrated super duper hard on concentrating and made out three salient phrases: busy night, two homicides, ass down here. He bombarded me with words, of all things, apparently clueless to the fact that predawn hours rendered me incapable of coherent thought. “Never mind.” I reached for the phone and grimaced as a jolt of pain ripped through me, reminding me I’d been beaten senseless the night before. I turned my attention to the dead guy standing there, then lowered my lids and asked in a gravelly voice, “Can you get that?” What kind of sadist called another human being at 4:34 in the morning?Ī throat cleared at the foot of my bed. With a heavy sigh, I pried open my eyes just enough to focus on the numbers glowing atop my nightstand. After a moment, I realized it was the cricketlike chime of my new phone. Second, a soft but persistent melody played in the periphery of my consciousness like a familiar song I couldn’t quite place. I shivered and kicked out, unwilling to acknowledge the summons, then tucked my leg into the thick folds of my Bugs Bunny comforter. First, a frosty chill crept up my ankle, the icy caress jolting me out of my red-hot dream. I did my darnedest to resist, but they were fairly persistent external forces. I was having a killer dream that featured a set of capable hands, a hot mouth, and a creative employment of lederhosen when two external forces tried to lure me out of it. The prospect led to the following dilemma: Do I seek help or buy drinks all around? Death via extreme pleasure was a serious concern. I was starting to wonder if repetitive exposure to nightly hallucinations resulting in earth-shattering climaxes could have any long-term side effects. I’d been having the same dream for the past month-the one where a dark stranger materialized out of smoke and shadows to play doctor with me. Thank you from the nethermost regions of my heart.Īnd to Mom. I considered sending fruit baskets, but even produce falls short when trying to express the depth of my gratitude. Ward, MaryJanice Davidson, Jayne Ann Krentz, Gena Showalter, and Kresley Cole. Speaking of those who have lived to tell the tale, a gargantuan thank-you to J.R. And I have to thank Mike Davidson for his unending patience. I am especially grateful for the feedback from: Annette, Dan Dan, DD, Ashlee, Tammy, Sherri, Bria, Kiki, Emily, Klisty, Gabi, Carol, Melvin, Cathy, Michael, Kit, Danielle Tanner (aka D2), and to my pimp, Quentin. Thank you for your friendship and sisterhood.Ī special thanks to those who have read my work and have lived to tell the tale. Your warmth and support have been invaluable. My Ruby-Slippered Sisters, the 2009 RWA Golden Heart finalists. The goddesses of LERA, each and every one, especially my critique goddess, Tammy Baumann. You all have my heart and undying gratitude. Where would I be without such extraordinary kin? The Eakins Clans, the Duartes, the Joneses, the Campbells, the Scotts, the Swopeses, Dooley and Snick, and last but never, ever least, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys: Danny, Jerrdan, Casey, and our newest addition, Konner Mason.
Your incredible savvy, priceless.Įvery member of my family, even the unstable ones. If you could bottle it, you’d make a fortune. Thank you for believing in this book and for putting up with me.