Alathea's Writings: January 2009

I decided to spend some hard-earned money yesterday, so I went on a shopping-spree. Needless to say, I didn't buy not even a scrap of clothing or a pair of boots. I just went traipsing around the mall, shaking my head at the people (mostly women) carrying an assortment of bags in all shapes and sizes in all colors of the rainbow with different logos.

And to think the politicians are preaching about the economic crisis. Have they been in the mall lately? There wasn't anything remotely resembling an economic crisis in the mall yesterday.

Anyway, I was walking leisurely around the mall, took the escalator to the top floor of it...And walked into the bookstore.

It felt like walking home after a year abroad. My knees went weak and, oh so conveniently, there was a plush armchair nearby, so I could throw my wobbly self into it... The scent of paper assaulted my nostrils, the mellow song selection flowing down from the speakers was gentle and soothing, the lighting was just right to calm the eyes, and the conversation between the cashier and the woman buying a children's book for her niece was hushed to perfection to cause as little a distraction as possible...

It hit me then. I haven't seen the inside of a bookstore for too long. I can't even remember when I was last inside one. And I have no idea how that happened. I love books, I adore books, I'd kill for a good book...I'd take a book on a deserted island with me... Okay, I'd take a book and a hunk to try the hot scenes with, but that's another story.

I figure I rely too much on the Internet. Amazon is my home away from home, nowadays. I have a few of my favorite authors, read their series (they all write series, have you noticed that?), and I don't bother with discovering new voices in fiction.

That's what bookstores are for me. A place to explore the back-covers, brush your fingers over the cover art, read a chapter or two...I used to read the ending of books, luckily (or not) I overcome that nasty habit. But maybe it wasn't that nasty. It's quite a comfort knowing the book will have a desired ending before purchase. Oh, well, I grew out of it, and I'm sticking with the not-reading-the-ending part.

Bookstores are also those wondrous places where I could always discover new authors, that's how I became hooked on Sherrilyn Kenyon, Karen Marie Moning, Christine Feehan, and many, many, many more. So by not visiting the bookstores anymore I have neglected this aspect of my reading personality. I have no intention whatsoever of purchasing an "unknown" from Amazon or Barnes&Noble, I need to have the book in my hands to decide whether to buy it or not (if it's not from a known - and loved - author).

Yesterday, I discovered seven new authors (one book was an anthology) and I can't wait to read what they have to say. The blurbs looked promising enough...

And no, I didn't read the ending!

This used to be the exclusive excerpt on my website.

"Regan, he's watching you again."

"Elizabeth, please."

"Well, he is. What do you think of that American with him?"

"Playboy."

Michelle shook her head. It was nice to be young. Listening to the girls talking about Shaw and his friend made her remember her twenties, when she had had her hands full with trying to persuade Robert to accept his feelings for her. Her eyes found her husband awkwardly dancing with Robin's mother. He was so cute. She caressed her belly, where their child was growing, and sighed with contentment.

Regan saw the almost protective gesture and whispered, "Michelle. Are you—"

Her friend just nodded.

Regan's eyes shone with tears. She took Michelle's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Oh, I'm so happy for you. For both of you."

Elizabeth leaned over and shoved a hankie in her face. "Here you go, before your eyeliner melts. What's going on?"

"She's pregnant."

The second Flaherty sister threw herself at the woman. "Michelle! That's fantastic. Does Robert know?"

"Of course, he does."

"I'll bet he passed out." Elizabeth watched Robert twirl Mrs. Flaherty on the dance floor.

"No." Michelle's cheeks pinked. "He just threw up."

"That's so sweet."

"Why aren't the lot of you out there dancing?" Robin joined them.

Elizabeth gave her an once-over. "Robin, that dress really suits you. Even better than I expected, designing it."

"You look like a princess, Robin." Regan smiled. "My brother is really lucky to have found you."

"Thank you, Regan." Robin inclined her head. "Why aren't you entertaining Mr. Shaw?"

Regan rolled her eyes. "Not you, too."

"What? You're one of the few people he knows in here."

Regan prayed for deliverance, as someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Regan."

"Natalie? I thought you were still in Paris."

"I would've been crazy to miss this party." Natalie inspected her from head to toe. "Look at you, pet. You're absolutely stunning. I saw Jean-Michel Bernard around here. I'm surprised he's not here, taking pictures."

"Don't even go there."

Natalie laughed. "No need to explain."

"Look, here come the gentlemen." Robin turned her head and smiled

Aidan and Robert were on their way over, along with Damien and Richard.

"What is he doing here?" Natalie frowned.

"Who?"

"Richard Stevens."

Regan peeked at her. "Do you know him?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Robin winked. "All escape routes are closed, darling. They're already here." She beamed at Aidan. "Honey. Welcome back."

"Gorgeous." He dropped a light kiss on her lips. "Regan, every man in this hall is drooling over you."

Damien moved almost imperceptibly. A subtle warning.

"Natalie?" Richard couldn't believe his eyes. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. The heels made her appear taller, she almost came to his chin, she's gained a little weight since he's last seen her, and her cherubic face, slightly covered with soft brown bangs, appeared flushed. Her deep chocolate eyes sparkled with disdain, and she wore that signature little pout of hers.

Robert looked from one to the other. "You know each other?"

Richard's eyes shuttered. "She left me at the altar."

"You slept with the stripper at your bachelor's party!"

"That you did, man." Damien nodded solemnly. "That you did. Hi, Natalie."

"Talk to the hand, Shaw! You're the one who got him that stripper in the first place."

Regan snorted. "But of course he did. They probably went for it in a threesome."

"Regan!" Robin tried not to laugh. When Regan wanted to, she could be as waspish as they come. And there was something about Shaw that brought her claws out.

"What? It's not like I'm making all this up."

"In this case, you are, Regan," Damien bit out. Why did he feel he had to justify himself with her? He wasn't the same as ten years ago. He'd changed. Because of her. For her. "I didn't even peek."

"Tell it to someone who believes you."

"Natalie! I asked you to forgive me a million times, already. I happened to be drunk."

"Not drunk enough. Your dick still worked."

Regan knew she had to put a stop to the brewing scene before it erupted in front of London's elite. She grabbed Richard's sleeve. "C'mon, Dick, let's dance."

"The name's Rick!"

"Whatever!" She dragged him onto the dance floor.

Damien growled and made to follow them, but a delicate hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't," Robin hissed. "Regan just prevented a scene. I don't want another one. Not tonight!"

As Richard took her into his arms, he asked, "Why aren't you out here dancing with Damien?"

Regan looked disdainfully into his eyes. "I don't want to dance with that man. As a matter of fact, I don't enjoy dancing with you, either."

"Why are you, then?"

"To prevent a scene from ruining my brother's party." She sighed. "Would you please stop looking at me that way?"

"What way?"

"Look, Dick, I don't like you very much. And knowing you were the one who broke my friend's heart, I dislike you even more. I'm trying to be civil here, but if you so much as glance at me the wrong way, I'll shove my shoe somewhere extremely uncomfortable. Get the picture?"

Richard grinned. "Oh, yeah, you and Damien are a match made in heaven—Ouch!"

"Oops, sorry." She smiled sweetly. "Was that your foot? How very clumsy of me."

"I guess you-know-who is not an appropriate topic of conversation," he grimaced.

"You guess correctly."

Regan fled the ballroom. She needed some air. Needed a semblance of peace. All of her friends were in there dancing, so she couldn't use them as cover anymore. She didn't know what else to do.

The night was beautiful. The stars were twinkling in the sky; the city, illuminated by the faint glow of a waning moon, was peaceful and quiet. She took a deep breath of the crisp night air, shivering in the faint breeze. The days were warming up, but at night one could feel it was still early May.

Something soft and warm covered her bare shoulders.

"I thought I saw you come out here."

Damien. She closed her eyes and let his jacket warm her, before she slipped it off her shoulders. "Thank you, but I won't be needing it."

Strong fingers grasped her wrist when she tried to slip past him. "Wait!"

Damien pulled her back against him. She fitted perfectly to the hard contours of his body. Feeling her tense, he made himself take a small step back.

"What do you want?" she whispered as he once again slipped his jacket around her shoulders. The garment smelled like him. Spicy after-shave; strong, self-assured alpha male. A heady combination.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he breathed in her ear. "You've been avoiding me all evening."

His breath caressed her nape, making her shiver. Not because of the cold, though. And he knew it. Damn the man!

"I haven't been avoiding you." God, was that her voice? "I just don't think we have much to discuss."

He slowly turned her in his arms to gaze into her hazel eyes. "But we do, Regan. It's been ten years. Don't you want to ask me what I've been doing? Don't you want to tell me what you've been doing?"

"I'm sure my dear brother filled you in on everything you need to know about my life—"

"He didn't. Not that I didn't ask."

"And as to what you've been doing, or should I say, whom you've been doing...?"

He heaved a sigh. "You know damn well that's not true."

"Oh, do I?" She smirked. "Just because you've stopped appearing in the tabloids doesn't mean you've changed—"

"Why not?"

Regan rolled her eyes, praying for patience. "I know you and I know your kind."

"My kind? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what that means. You're still in the same league as Richard. No wonder you two are friends. You womanizers and playboys always stick together."

His control snapped for a moment. He grabbed her by her upper arms, pushing her against a pillar. "Ten years ago it might have been true—"

"Might?"

"But it's not like that, anymore. I'm not like that, anymore."

She shoved at his chest. "Let go of me, Damien."

He caressed her cheek with a gentle fingertip. "This is the first time tonight, you've said my name. It has a different ring to it, coming from your mouth." His jet-black gaze lowered to her lips. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. His dark head lowered toward hers.

Regan's eyes widened. Her heart beat in a furious rhythm. Yes. Kiss me. Please. Their faces were scant inches apart. She could feel his warm breath on her upper lip. She closed her eyes.

"There you are!"

Regan's eyes snapped open and she guiltily jumped away from Damien. "Robin," she breathed, thankful for the woman's timing. She had almost kissed Damien Shaw, playboy extraordinaire. It must have been all the champagne she had gulped down. Yes, that must be it. And not the fact she'd been dreaming of him since the day they met. Wanting him. Needing him. Help!

She shook off his jacket and draped it over the railing. "Did you need something, Robin?"

"We're waiting only for the two of you. Come inside, please." Robin noticed the tension between the pair. She looked from one to the other. Regan was avoiding her gaze, blushing furiously. Shaw was giving her his back, his shoulders slumped. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure." Regan laughed nervously. "Let's not keep them waiting." She hurried inside.

"Mr. Shaw?" Robin saw him flinch. "We'll just wait inside." She quickly left him alone.

Damien groaned in frustration. The best opportunity he'd had in the whole evening, and it just slipped through his fingers. He wanted to break something. Drive his fist through a wall. He leaned his forehead against the cool marble of the pillar. She had been so soft in his arms, so pliant. So goddamn beautiful, with those big eyes of hers. He was so hard it hurt. Slipping a hand to his groin, he adjusted himself, cursing between his teeth. Next time he'd see to it there would be no Robin, nor anybody else, for that matter, to interrupt them. And there would be a next time, he swore to himself. She wanted him; he knew it. He felt it. And he wanted her. He'd always wanted her. And he would have her. Forever. He just had to convince her.

Picking up his discarded jacket, he lifted it to his face. Her scent clung to the fabric. Sweet, clean, feminine. The bulge in his trousers grew even more. Smiling crookedly, he quickly put on the jacket, hoping it would be able to conceal the sign of his arousal. It'd worked from the beginning of this hellish evening; why shouldn't it now? Satisfied with the result, he strode into the ballroom.

Aidan immediately caught his eye, beckoning him to join him in front of a small table.

"Ash," Damien murmured. "Care to tell me what's going on?" He looked at Regan. She avoided his gaze, not even acknowledging him. The animal side of him lifted its head and growled.

Aidan followed his gaze, smiling secretly. Robin had informed him where she had found Regan and Damien. Together. His plan was working. They were perfect for each other. He had noticed it ten years ago and it was even more evident now. His sister's cheeks were pink and she looked uncomfortably hot, while Damien looked ready to commit homicide. Things were working out perfectly.

"You'll find out soon enough, man," he whispered, and locked gazes with his betrothed.

Robin nodded. They were all here. Time to begin the show. "Regan, I need you in front of that table with your brother and Shaw."

The girl winced. "What? Why?"

"You'll see."

"I'm not going. Not with him there."

Robin knew who 'him' was. She smiled. "Look, Regan, I don't care what happened between Shaw and you on the terrace."

Regan turned fiery red.

"And I'm really sorry for interrupting your little tryst—"

Regan gasped in shock. "Robin!"

"But I'm asking you to do me this small favor. Please, Regan, I need you up there."

"Fine," the girl grumbled, and marched toward the table, grouching under her breath.

A middle-aged man took a seat and opened a large tome in front of him. He smiled pleasantly at her.

Regan shot him a killer glare, not daring to look to her right. She could feel Damien's gaze on her. Her hands turned clammy and her knees started shaking. She was going to slaughter her brother. Robin would be next.

Robin turned to her father. "Daddy, will you walk me to that table, please?"

"Pardon?" Flaherty looked at his beaming daughter. "Certainly." He offered her his arm and together they walked toward the four people waiting for them, two of whom were completely unaware of what was going on around them. The Commander watched the willowy redhead fisting her hands at her sides, looking at the floor, while the tall, raven-haired bloke was burning holes in her body by just staring at her.

Flaherty shook his head. Youth.

Robin glided on her father's arm, gazing lovingly at her beloved Aidan. She smiled. Her dream would finally come true.

Aidan watched Robin move toward him. He smiled back and winked for good measure. He sure hoped the Commander wouldn't kill him for what they were about to do. He sighed, glancing at his friend. Damien had eyes only for Regan. She, on the other hand, kept her gaze stubbornly on the floor. Aidan shook his head. They really were impossible.

Robin and her father reached the small table. It was then that he noticed the table festooned with sprigs of blossoms and white satin bows and that the tall man in front of them was asking, "Who's giving away the bride?"

A chorus of gasps filled the ballroom. Commander Flaherty gaped, turning crimson. Regan's head snapped up. Her eyes were twinkling with amusement and quiet laughter as she looked at her brother. She grinned, winking at him.

Damien slowly turned his head to look at his friend. Smiling, he gently patted his shoulder. "Well done, Ash. Extremely well done."

Aidan looked gratefully at them. They were probably the only ones in the whole room who weren't shocked.

Robin winced. Her father's grip turned steely. "Daddy," she whispered. "You're hurting me."

The Commander recovered a little of his sanity and fulminated at his would-be son-in-law with a stare. Turning his head, he frowned down at his oldest daughter. "There's no chance in hell I'm allowing this farce to continue."

"It's not a farce, Daddy." Robin gazed at Aidan. "I'm getting married. Aren't you happy?"

"But... But you're still too young to make these kinds of decisions."

"Shut up and let them be," his wife hissed from the crowd.

The Commander's eyes filled with tears as he looked at his wife. "She's my baby. My little girl. I just can't let her get married like this."

His wife huffed, rolling her eyes. Men!

The registrar cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Shall we proceed?"

"No," the Commander barked, tightening his grip on his daughter's wrist.

Regan and Damien locked gazes. He smiled, nodding slowly. She stepped closer to Robin, while he boomed, "Commissioner Parker?!"

Flaherty saluted automatically, releasing his perplexed daughter long enough for Regan to snatch her away.

"Here you go, Aidan," she said, clasping his hand around Robin's fingers. "Sir, we can proceed, now." She smiled at the registrar, stepping aside.

Commander Flaherty was unable to react, due to his wife and two daughters dragging him away.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the registrar began, "we've gathered here tonight to join this lovely couple in matrimony. Before we shall proceed, if there is anyone who would like to object to this union, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

The hall was silent.

Regan breathed a sigh of relief, and heard a soft chuckle from above her right shoulder. She slid a quick glance in his direction. Damn, he was hot!

Feeling her gaze on him, Damien slowly turned his head, and met her eyes. He winked, and chuckled again as she looked away, guiltily, her cheeks pink. Damn, she was hot!

The registrar continued. "Do you, Aidan Ashford, take this woman, Robin Flaherty, to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

Regan sniffed.

"Do you, Robin Flaherty, take this man, Aidan Ashford, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

Regan sniffed again.

"By the power invested in me by the City of London, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

"Finally," Aidan murmured, and pulled Robin to him. Bending his head, he slanted his mouth over hers.

A cheer erupted in the ballroom; Regan stuck two fingers between her lips, emitting a shrill whistle.

Damien snorted. "You really are a tomboy."

"Bite me!"

"Gladly," he purred.

"Idiot!"

"Can I at least nibble?"

If you would like to read some more, there's another exclusive sneak peek here.

Alathea's Writings

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Bookstores

Saturday, January 10, 2009

THANK YOU!

Friday, January 9, 2009

Shadow of Revenge is released!

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Shadow of Revenge - excerpt

Shadow of Revenge soon to be released

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