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Snippet –

Mark snagged two glasses of champagne and returned to her side. They touched glasses in a silent toast, and each took a drink. She delicately wrinkled her nose at the taste, and he was chuckling when something knocked his arm. He had to maneuver quickly to keep from spilling any of the champagne on her dress. He had time to think it was a good thing he’d taken a nice swig from the glass when he turned and saw Cynthia standing there.

He knew instantly, and without a doubt, that the hit to his elbow had been deliberate, and she was disappointed he’d managed not to ruin Lori’s dress. “Cynthia.” There was no way he could accuse her, and she knew it.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Mark. I know you don’t like this kind of thing.”

“We thought something like this would be fun, since it’s not an every night occurrence.”

She met his eyes; hers were cold. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

He didn’t see a way to avoid the meeting, so he nodded. “Cynthia, this is Lori Sullivan. Lori, Cynthia Broome.” There was no relationship mentioned with either name, and he saw Cynthia’s lips tighten. He looked at her then, really looked. She was so different from Lori. Her hair had been artistically put up, but it was too … fancy. Her dress, which she probably thought would bring out the blue in her eyes, was too busy. There were ruffles and angles, and it was about one size too tight, especially over those expensive breasts. Of course she was wearing the three-inch heels, but she still wasn’t tall enough to carry off the dress. Her makeup was too heavy, her eyes too smoky. He realized with a start that Lori wasn’t wearing any makeup at all, not even lipstick. Her lips were that beautiful natural color all the time; and her lashes were long and full, even when she woke up in the morning. Cynthia looked blousy next to Lori’s sleek sophistication, and no doubt she was aware of it, hence the attempt at sabotage with the champagne. Mark stepped closer to Lori to protect her, and Cynthia’s eyes narrowed.

Mark spotted Dennis Helms behind Cynthia. They had met him a few times when he had been dating Cynthia. “Dennis, did you enjoy the movie?”

They spoke for a few minutes, Mark’s hand now resting on the warm silky skin of Lori’s back, his thumb lightly caressing her warmth, his body carefully between the two women. Maybe it had been a mistake bringing Dennis into the conversation, because he quite obviously couldn’t take his eyes off Lori, and that was only making things worse.

“Well, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to get a little food before we leave.” He nodded to the couple and watched Cynthia snap at Dennis, though he missed the words. He guided Lori toward the table and picked up one of the small plates.

She didn’t take the dish from him. “Does she sell real estate?”

Mark looked her directly in the eyes. “She does.”

“She seemed quite angry.”

“She is. I was seeing her, and I broke things off rather abruptly. She has the right to be angry with me.”

“Why did you break things off so abruptly with her?”

“I met my soul mate.” He hadn’t planned to say that, especially not here in this crowd, but her eyes widened.

“Do I know her?”

“Yes, maybe slightly better than I do, but I hope not for long.”

“Soul mate?”

This is a thank you to my fans, the people who have made my dream come true. I am now writing full time. I’ve written since I was a little girl. No one read any of that, it was only for me for two reasons – 1) it wasn’t good enough to share and 2) I was too scared to share it even when I thought it was good.

Gradually I grew some courage (thanks Hubby) and began to share (sparingly) and eventually because at least some people liked my stories, I did really put myself out there. I admit I have a tendency to write what I wanted to read and couldn’t find—Strong Women. I’d read too many stories in the “too stupid to live” category and I knew women weren’t really like that. I had too many role models that proved my point. So I decided to concentrate on those stories that cropped up in my mind. You’ll see that more often than not it’s my heroines who save the bacon of my heroes, or at least share equally in the task.

Learning Trust                    Red Shoes                          Cohesion – The Melting Book 3

As a thank you I’m giving away a couple of eBooks from my back list. Just leave a comment here on the blog of what you’re grateful that you’re finally able to do and share the fun (click on that red comment stamp at the top of the page). Be sure to check out all of the other authors and their giveaways as well.

Where are the rest of the hoppers! Find them below.

Coming November 10 – Christmas With Family   

Neither Symone nor Blake expected to have a four-year-old girl for Christmas, but when her father is critically injured and her mother has to go to him, what else can they do? And getting to know each other might not be a bad thing…

Christmas with Family will be a giveaway at The Romance Studio on November 10. Be sure to sign up!

Other Christmas stories from Donna Steele –

Thought I’d rerun this one for Halloween – please add your stories!

Well? It’s almost Halloween so it’s a legitimate question. Have you ever had an encounter? Since I wrote a ghost story, I guess I have to confess that I do believe in them. And yes, I’ve had a couple of encounters.  

Being so close to Halloween I’m going to share. The first one I was only twelve. My grandmother that lived with us had passed away recently. I was in bed and heard something in the formal living room. I mean, I really heard something enough that I got up and woke Daddy to tell him. My hearing was very good, so he got up and checked. Nothing, no one in the house besides the family, so I went back to bed.

But the sound woke me up again and when I opened my eyes. My grandmother was standing at the foot of the bed. I panicked big time and again made off for Daddy. Fortunately I had the world’s best Daddy and when I told him what was going on, he nodded. “That’s probably who was in the living room. Donna, she checked on you every night after you went to bed. What’s the problem?” Put it all in perspective and I went back to bed. Did I tell you he was cool?

The next time I was in college and had rented an apartment with three other girls for the summer to work in the same town as the university. I had to get up and leave earlier than my roommate and had gotten dressed in the bathroom as usual to try to keep quiet. When I reached for the doorknob, I drew my hand back scared to death. I knew there was something evil on the other side of that door (and I’m NOT talking the roommate). I was frozen, but a few minutes later the feeling went away and I was able to get out.  That day at work, (I was a temp at an engineering company) I was sitting at a spare desk that was up against and faced the wall. No view at all, but I was typing so it didn’t matter. Without anyone coming near me (and remember no one could go around the front of the desk) the electric typewriter power cord wrapped itself around my leg – three loops. I hadn’t moved. I didn’t know anyone well enough there to say anything, so I sat silent until that evil feeling went away again, then I unwrapped my leg.  I guess I didn’t react like it wanted and I’ve never felt it again. I’m not sorry.

So I wrote Wraith’s Heart– a ghost story from the perspective of the ghost. I can see Daddy’s influence here as well.  Here’s a little excerpt –

Ryan let himself into the apartment. Gail hurried behind him. He’d brought her case home again, even though he’d had to work on some other stuff during the afternoon.

It seemed to her as though he wanted to be alone with the case. Away from all the distractions and everyone at work, like she belonged to him. She had to be projecting but it felt good.

Gail realized watching the video from the hotel had unnerved her. It was her, no mistake but it was all gone from her mind. Why had she straightened up? What had she seen? Obviously not something close enough for Mr. Sanders to pay attention. No car? Someone else walking around? Someone else who stayed out of the lights from the hotel?

Ryan dropped his bag inside the door and headed for the kitchen. As he passed the remote, he flipped on the TV but didn’t turn to watch anything.

He heated up the rest of last night’s dinner and carried it over to the couch. He turned the TV off a few minutes later and shook his head in disgust.

“What?” She hadn’t been paying attention and knew he couldn’t hear her, but the question came without thought.

“Not a word, not a friggin’ word about the murder of a beautiful young woman. The city council took the whole broadcast and they’re all idiots!” Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

Startled she sat on one of the stools at the bar as he unbuttoned his shirt and headed for the bedroom. He was angry. Angry because she wasn’t the top news? He cared about her, well the case anyway. She couldn’t move.

Okay, what was he doing in there? She had to know.

He did pushups again and damn! His body was beautiful. Was he working off anger? His hair grew damp from sweat and the ferocity of his workout seemed a lot more intense.

She didn’t know what to think.  She took a seat at the foot of the bed, Indian-style and watched.

Her eyes widened as he stripped off the t-shirt and shucked the boxers. Holy Bob . . . He stepped into the shower not waiting for it to heat up. He wasted no time washing and quickly dried off. He slipped into the bed and set his alarm for five a.m.

Five? Shit, that was early. Okay, it didn’t really affect her anymore but it still sounded early. He didn’t even bother to pick up his book tonight, merely turned off the light and rolled over. She could see him well enough with the little light coming through the window. He seemed restless and she worried about him ever getting to sleep. He turned over once more, flinging his arm across the other pillow and she rose from her seat at the far end of the bed.

He couldn’t feel her, at least not as a cold spot but he had held her last night. She crawled in beside him and lay her head in the crook of his arm. He seemed to sigh and turn toward her, slipping finally into a more peaceful sleep.

Gail made a conscious decision not to analyze that and made herself comfortable against him. No hardship to be pressed against his body. She might not be a real comfort to him, but he certainly was to her.

****

Added 10/23/15 – some famous female ghosts – Spooky Girls…