Writing wise, I'm in the final stretch and then it is a matter of production--edits, formatting, and such. I very much hope you'll find this installment of Impossible Dream worth the wait. Some stories take longer than others to root and blossom and this was one of them.
As I close in on the final chapters, I find I am rediscovering my love of this tale. That's a magical thing. When writing and rewriting a story over the course of several months, one can easily "fall out love" with your premise. It's easy to lose perspective and to worry the story is drek or the writing is drek. You wonder, "What was I thinking? and "Where am I going?" and "Will this story never end?" But then something clicks and suddenly your fingers fly. You're no longer thinking. You're living the story via the characters. That's where I am right now and that, my friends, is a beautiful thing. For me. And you.
So again, I thank you for hanging in. Below is a teaser. A small something to hold you over until I get the full story into your hands. Read and enjoy and chime in for the subsequent GIVEAWAY!
* * * *
a teaser from MARRY POPPINS
Even though Bryce had assured her not all people dressed up for the theater, Georgie couldn’t resist going all out. Fortunately, Angel had supplied her with two dresses suitable for finer entertainment. Georgie had settled on a simple black halter dress and strappy red heels. The same heels she’d worn to Bryce’s non-wedding. The difference was, her non-wedding dress had skimmed her knees. This hemline stopped mid-thigh. So, yeah, her legs were on prime display.
Feigning innocence, she asked, “Anything wrong?”
“I should go.”
“Anywhere. I need to walk this off.”
It was all she could do to stay seated, to feign calm. He looked gorgeous and miserable and she wanted to tackle him to the floor. “Walk what off?”
Bryce palmed the back of his neck and rubbed. He blew out a breath. A tense breath. A really tense breath.
Georgie practiced extraordinary patience.
“That dress. Those shoes. You. The past few days.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers, studied the toes of his boots.
“You look hot, dammit.”
Her pulse kicked. If only he didn’t sound so disappointed. “Thank you. I think.”
“I can’t be here. This—and don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about—can’t happen.”
Heart pounding, Georgie made a judgement call. Enough patience. Time to initiate derring-do. She rose to her bare feet and closed the distance between them. “Okay. No pretending. Let’s face this head on.” She inched closer, pressing her body to his, acknowledging his oh-so-noticeable package. “Why can’t this happen?”
He remained frozen, staring down at her in stoic silence.
“Because I’m Ryan’s sister?” she prodded. “Because you’re on the rebound? Because you don’t love me and you don’t want to complicate matters with meaningless sex? Because you’re conflicted about the twins and your future and you need me to be there for them and for Arlo so you can honor your charity commitments and pursue whatever?”
She rattled off everything she could think of because there wasn’t one forthcoming bone in Bryce’s infuriatingly hunky body. The man guarded his innermost thoughts as if they were a flipping national secret.
He worked his jaw. “Yes.”
She wanted to punch him—the big stubborn, noble, ex-jock. “What if I told you meaningless sex is all I’m interested in? What if I told you I have no intention of bailing on your nanny job—no matter if this happens or not—because that job is the only thing keeping me afloat until my dream job comes through. Which—in case I didn’t mention it before—should be soon.”
If she said it often enough, maybe it would happen. Maybe she’d get that golden email from Impossible Dream alerting her of a wondrous opportunity. As it was, the only notices she’d been getting were from bill collectors.
Jerking her thoughts back to pleasant ground, Georgie dug in. “Here’s the thing. Ignoring this attraction won’t make it go away, Bryce. Addressing it might. If it helps,” she lied, “I meant what I said that day at Grace Chapel. This isn’t a matter of the heart. This is purely physical.”
And that was about all she could muster in the derring-do department without sacrificing her pride.
Bryce closed his eyes and cursed.
When he reached for his jacket, Georgie turned her back. He was leaving. Fine. “Go for your walk. Forget I said anything,” she said while fumbling with the zipper at the back of her dress. “I’ll be in bed by the time you get back, sleeping this off.”
She heard the door open…
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do. Not. Cry.
“Dammit,” she swore when the zipper wouldn’t budge and her temper overflowed.“Screw it.” Bryce cupped her shoulders and turned her in his arms.
* * *
*An Impossible Dream Tote Bag
*A signed copy of Beauty & the Biker (book 1)
*A Kelly Rae Roberts "Dream" Sketch/Notebook
Winner announced here on 1/26/16
U.S. entries only, please
(Please share the love and share this post on FB and Twitter. Thank you!)