I hope you have a wonderful holiday season!
December 22, 2010
December 12, 2010
Six Sentence Sunday 12/12
For this week's Six Sentence Sunday I've decided to share with you six sentences from my woman-in-jeopardy romance, Not Without Risk.
Not Without Risk is out now and features photographer Paige Conroy and homicide Sergeant Justin Harrison, the man who's just broken all the rules by bringing Paige home with him in order to better protect her.
Not Without Risk is out now and features photographer Paige Conroy and homicide Sergeant Justin Harrison, the man who's just broken all the rules by bringing Paige home with him in order to better protect her.
He was gentle at first and then, as she surrendered, his mouth explored hers with greater intent. He kissed her almost roughly, completely on fire, sweeping his tongue possessively into her mouth. His hands settled on her hips, gliding upward beneath her shirt until his palms closed over her naked breasts. His moan of approval, so raw and husky, vibrated into her mouth and made her heart pound even harder. The sensation of bare flesh against bare flesh sent waves of heat spiraling from her head to her toes. Her nipples hardened.
There's no way I could post about Justin without providing you with my inspiration for him, country singer Ty Herndon.
Be sure to visit all the Six Sentence Sunday authors. You can find a list of them HERE. See you next time!
December 10, 2010
Spotlight On... KM Daughters
Today I have the incomparable K.M. Daughters with me at the keyboard. Welcome, can you tell us a little about yourself(s)?
We’re sisters who love each other dearly and hardly ever fight like we did when we were little and there was blood – lots of blood.
Thank you for inviting us to share this special day in our career. ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND LAW is book four in the Sullivan boys romantic suspense series. Books one through three have garnered great reviews and a devoted following of lovely Readers, so we’re very excited about this installment because we think it’s the most electric and interesting so far.
The story involves a brutal murderer, a hotshot defense attorney and a newly appointed police captain:
The enchantress on stage at an amusement park review captivates new Chicago police captain Patrick Sullivan. Stunned to learn she’s the infamous defense attorney, Charlie Demarco, who substituted for her twin at the performance, Pat battles Charlie in and out of the courtroom. With CPD cutbacks and a serial murderer to apprehend, Pat struggles to uphold the law and his reputation, while Charlie seems determined to undermine him. Chained to her job to restore her family’s finances, Charlie has no choice but to defend the criminals Pat wants behind bars. Her biggest battle yet involves defending her heart against Patrick Sullivan.
The book is available in digital formats and paperback online in The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble.
Online E-book and print book retailers and paperback by order at your local bookstore.
As a writing team, how do you handle the writing process? Do you each select a character to write or divide it by scenes?
We divide it by scenes, alternating chapters. We act as critique partners and “self-editors” for each other’s chapters as we construct the initial first draft. Pat keeps the master document.
How did you start writing? Have you always worked together?
When we each had completed romance manuscripts independently, we aspired to become published authors. So we searched for opportunities to learn all we could about the craft of writing. We attended the Iowa Writers Summer Festival at The University of Iowa, and completed an intense two-week novel writing course. A link on Nora Robert’s website brought us to the Romance Writers of America. RWA is an excellent educational resource for wannabe writers, so we joined and attended RWA national’s conference in Reno, Nevada. Kathie had an idea for a contemporary romance. We tossed plot premises around during early morning walks leading to the “light bulb” moment to team write the novel. Those discussions resulted in PAST, PRESENT AND FOREVER, published by Sapphire Blue Publishing last year in Ebook and soon to be re-released in paperback.
Do you ever disagree on how a scene should play out?
Sure we do. Actually that’s part of the fun in team writing – and an essential ingredient in producing our blended voice.
Why did you choose your genre?
It is entirely possible the genre chose us since story lines and characters seem to materialize in our brains, haunting us until we do something with them. We love to read the sub-genres we write. Plus we always were and will ever be devotees of happy endings.
What has been your highlight of your career(s) to this point?
Congratulations! What are three things you wish you’d known before you began your writing career?
1. Book promotion is extremely difficult and humbling.
2. Blurb writing is extremely difficult.
3. Line editing is extremely humbling. i.e. Don’t repeat words, even for emphasis, as we just did with “extremely” three times. As our beloved Editor for the Sullivan Boys books might comment, “What’s the matter girls? Lose your thesaurus?”
What advice would you give to the new/unpublished author?
Learn your craft, tell the stories of your heart, be true to your voice, write what you love, polish to the best of your ability, and have faith.
We love visitors at http://www.kmdaughters.com/
Is there anything you’d like to ask our readers?
No questions, but we would like to convey a message. Thank you to the wonderful readers who purchase our books. We are deeply grateful for you.
Thank you so much, Sarah, for your hospitality.
Thank you both for being with us today.
December 5, 2010
Six Sentence Sunday 12/05
Today's Six Sentence Sunday is from the same book as last week, After Midnight, my contemporary romance coming soon from The Wild Rose Press.
“I have to know,” he murmured.
“What?”
“Your taste.”
He slipped his hand from her hip to the small of her back, pulling her against him. Their bodies molded, soft to hard. His thigh slid between hers and desire curled her toes, tightened her nipples into hard, aching points.
You know what, I feel like we need a little bit of eye-candy today.
“I have to know,” he murmured.
“What?”
“Your taste.”
He slipped his hand from her hip to the small of her back, pulling her against him. Their bodies molded, soft to hard. His thigh slid between hers and desire curled her toes, tightened her nipples into hard, aching points.
You know what, I feel like we need a little bit of eye-candy today.
So here he is, the inspiration for Noah Clark, the hero of After Midnight.
Be sure to visit all the Six Sentence Sunday authors. You can find a list of them HERE. See you next time!
December 1, 2010
Just Because
Because it's that time of year, I've decided to reward all of my readers with a gift. Well, okay, all of my readers won't get a gift, but you'll all be entered to win one. What's up for grabs?
An Amazon gift card you can use
toward whatever your heart desires. ♥
What do you have to do to be entered?
Just 'like' my Facebook fan page.
Once I reach 200, I'll draw a winner.(if you've already joined my fan page, then you're already entered)
And just to make this even more interesting, for every 50 over 200 that I receive before the end of December, I'll draw another winner for yet another prize. I haven't chosen what other prizes will be up for grabs, but I promise they'll be fun.
So come on, it's easy. Just click the 'like' button.
If you'd like to check out the page,
you can see it HERE
November 29, 2010
I'm supposed to be writing
But what am I doing? Searching the internet for eye candy. You see, my best friend called me this weekend. During our conversation she mentioned that she was watching Season 1 of Justified. Why? Really, you need to ask? Hmmm, maybe this will help.
Yeah, not only is Justified a great series, but it stars Hollywood hottie, Timothy Olyphant. What can I say, I have a thing for terrific smiles, and Timothy has a fabulous smile.
But I digress...
Internet.
Man candy.
Right. Our conversation turned to celebrity crushes. You know the ones I'm talking about. Those celebrities that you just can't get enough of, whose movies/series you would watch even if they stunk just so you could get your fill of HOT. You've got one, you know you do. Heck, I've got one. One that my friend hadn't heard about, hence my internet search for pics:
Yeah, not only is Justified a great series, but it stars Hollywood hottie, Timothy Olyphant. What can I say, I have a thing for terrific smiles, and Timothy has a fabulous smile.
But I digress...
Internet.
Man candy.
Right. Our conversation turned to celebrity crushes. You know the ones I'm talking about. Those celebrities that you just can't get enough of, whose movies/series you would watch even if they stunk just so you could get your fill of HOT. You've got one, you know you do. Heck, I've got one. One that my friend hadn't heard about, hence my internet search for pics:
Joe Manganiello
6 foot 5 inches of werewolf muscle on HBO's True Blood
Yeah, what a way to spend the morning. Now back to my regularly scheduled day of writing.
As soon as I find my drool cup.
Happy Monday everyone!
Happy Monday everyone!
November 28, 2010
Six Sentence Sunday
Welcome to my very first Six Sentence Sunday posting. This is from my upcoming release, After Midnight, a contemporary romance coming soon from The Wild Rose Press.
“You think you’re not the type to draw a man’s attention, think again. I can’t stand in the same room as you without wanting to taste you. I can’t taste you without wanting to taste all of you.”
Oh, God. Her knees turned to jelly. A hot, wet pulse came to life between her legs.
Be sure to visit all the Six Sentence Sunday authors. You can find a list of them HERE. See you next time!
“You think you’re not the type to draw a man’s attention, think again. I can’t stand in the same room as you without wanting to taste you. I can’t taste you without wanting to taste all of you.”
Oh, God. Her knees turned to jelly. A hot, wet pulse came to life between her legs.
Be sure to visit all the Six Sentence Sunday authors. You can find a list of them HERE. See you next time!
November 19, 2010
November 17, 2010
Death by Hanging
Today's blog is by Historical Romance author Kathy Otten. Enjoy! And make sure you visit her website for more information on Kathy and her books.
In my new novel, Lost Hearts, my hero, Richard Bennick is a U.S. Deputy Marshal for the Western District of Arkansas, which at the time of my novel, in 1877, had full jurisdiction over Indian Territory. The federal court was located in Fort Smith, Arkansas with one of the toughest federal court judges in history, Judge Isaac Charles Parker. During his years on the bench, from 1875-1896, Judge Parker sentenced 160 men to death, 79 of which were hanged. He quickly became known as the “Hanging Judge.”
Parker’s chief executioner was a man originally from Bavaria, named George Maledon. Maledon was a small framed man, only five feet, five inches tall. He had large dark eyes, a scraggly beard, and a gloomy appearance. Under Parker’s order, Maledon carried out the hangings for 60 of those men, which earned him the nickname, “Prince of Hangmen.”
Maledon took great pride in his work. Each rope was only used eleven times. He made sure no man strangled, kicking and twisting until he died, but rather died instantaneously, from a broken neck.
Each rope was twenty-seven feet in length and made of the finest hemp. To keep them from slipping, Maledon treated them with a pitchy oil substance. He then stretched the ropes on the gallows with two hundred pound bags of sand and oiled them again. Originally an inch and a quarter in diameter, the ropes were stretched to a tight one inch, perfect for knotting and oily enough so it gave no squeak when it jerked.
Maledon claimed his big knot was the secret of a good execution and to form his noose each rope was wrapped thirteen times.
On the gallows, the rope was dropped over the neck the prisoner and tightened over the larynx until it touched skin all the way around. The knot was placed under the left ear in the hollow at the back of the jaw bone. The rope was then brought upward, over the top of the head to hang down in a curve on the other side. That held the knot steady under the ear.
The trap would spring, the man dropped through, and the rope snapped taut. The big knot threw the head sideways and fractured the spine, giving each man a quick, easy death.
In the following excerpt, the hero, Richard, leaves a meeting with the U.S. Marshal and finds himself staring at the famous gallows in Fort Smith, contemplating his own death.
His stomach churned and sweat popped out across his brow. Even now the guilt still lingered. He’d done something, something very bad, he just didn’t know what. He didn’t want to think about it, but Brady was dead, and he had a feeling it was his fault.
God, he needed a drink.
“Bennick?”
Richard blinked and blew out a shaky breath. Upham had asked a question. What was it?
“Deputy, I think this is too much for you right now.”
“I’m fine, it’s just hot in here.”
“No, you don’t look well. Go home, get some rest, and we’ll talk again in a couple of days. Meantime, you may want to hire yourself an attorney. If this goes to the grand jury, he can have Hobbs and Johnny Bodine subpoenaed. I’ll send as many deputies out to find them as I have to.” Upham stood and stepped around his desk.
Richard rose and they shook hands.
“Now don’t worry, deputy,” Marshal Upham said as they walked to the office door. “You’ve been very ill. Just give it time. The memories will come back to you.”
Richard said good-bye and limped down the hallway. That’s what he was afraid of.
Outside, he mounted his horse and sat, his gaze captured by the gallows on the south side of the parade grounds. The platform rose seven feet high, just enough to keep a man’s feet from touching the ground when the lever was pulled. A twelve foot beam supported by heavy timbers, ran the width of the floor, and was strong enough to allow six men to simultaneously drop to their deaths.
Although hangings attracted hundreds of people who camped out near the grounds and brought picnic lunches, Richard had never watched an execution. He’d seen too much of the reality of life to find death entertaining.
How would it feel to stand up there, looking out across a crowd of gawking spectators? Would he choose to wear the hood, or would he stare defiantly over the tops of their heads as the weight of the finest hemp was dropped around his neck.
He could almost imagine the prick of the fibers pressing into his Adam’s apple as the well oiled hemp was pulled snug. He swallowed against the imaginary pressure. The knot would lay heavy behind his left ear, in the hollow of his jaw bone. Then when the trap opened, and his body shot down, the rope would snap taut and break his neck.
The hangman, George Maledon, once told Richard that he had never preformed a “bad” hanging. He had a trick when positioning the rope so men didn’t strangle, thrashing and kicking until they died.
Richard tightened his grip on the reins. Would hanging be his fate if he couldn’t remember; if Johnny couldn’t be found? Though he struggled daily to do right, maybe in the end, this had always been his destiny.
November 6, 2010
It's Saturday and...
I can’t seem to get my head in the game and write. Most likely because everyone is home today. I need quiet to write and I don't have it. Hubs is at the computer in the other room, laughing out loud and then reading to me what made him laugh. Teenagers just woke up so, of course, they feel the need to talk to me, too. I really need an office with a door. Ya know what I’m saying?
At least I’ve been writing this week. Every day this week, actually. Interested in a sneak peek?
I’ll share, but only if you remember that this is rough and unedited. I take full responsibility for any errors in medicalese as I haven’t talked with my emergency room contact to verify accuracy.
“Forty year old male involved in a T-bone MVA,” the medic called out as they pushed the stretcher through the doors and into the emergency department. “SUV versus semi. SUV rolled multiple times before stopping on its passenger side.”
Adrenaline surged through Dr. Rebecca Dahlman’s system, revving her pulse, pushing away the fatigue of an overly long shift better than the half pot of coffee she’d already consumed.
“Upon arrival, patient was unresponsive. We were able to get the c-collar on him right away, but had to wait for rescue’s hydraulic equipment to remove the door before we could get him on the backboard.”
Gown and gloves in place, Rebecca ran her gaze over the man strapped to the backboard with orange belts as they swung into trauma one and transferred him to the ER’s bed. Her team moved efficiently around the patient, cutting off his clothes with trauma shears.
The medic continued feeding her pertinent information as she began her own assessment. “Blood pressure is one-twenty over seventy-five, pulse ox one hundred percent. Pupils are dilated, equal and reactive.”
The guy was a bloody mess. Blood covered his face, soaked the left side of his head and shoulder of his shirt. He had a laceration on his left upper arm, deep enough to require sutures, and some bruises were already beginning to form across his chest from the seatbelt doing its job and holding him in place. Other than that, there were no other visible injuries. It was the injuries she couldn’t see that she had to worry about.
“I want a complete set of x-rays,” Rebecca stated automatically as she shifted closer and listened to her patient’s chest. Lungs clear, no abnormal heart rhythm. She looped her stethoscope around her neck and leaned in, searching the man’s scalp for head trauma. “Draw a trauma panel, tox screen and blood alcohol.”
Karen Williams, Rebecca’s best friend and charge nurse for the night, pulled the man’s wallet from the pile of clothes on the floor.
Directly above his left ear Rebecca uncovered the source of all the blood. Pushing her fingers into his hair, she palpated the injury site. The wound immediately began to bleed again. “No skull fracture that I can detect.”
“Rebecca.”
“I’ll want a CT scan of the head and neck.”
“Rebecca.” Karen’s voice was tight and pulled her attention. “It’s Dominic.”
For a moment, a heartbeat really, the words didn’t make any sense. Then, she looked closer. As if in slow motion Rebecca dragged her gaze up the torso, locked it onto the face partially hidden behind long, blood soaked hair. Her breath snagged in her throat and she froze, the sound of her pulse beating in her ears. It was a struggle to keep her hand steady as she pushed his hair away from his face and focused on his mouth, those lips, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top, the thin, straight nose.
“Stud,” she whispered, her voice torn.
His eyes were closed, ringed in thick black lashes. Were they open, she knew they would be the color of the sky just after a cleansing rain.
Her world tilted.
No. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t Dominic. Dominic didn’t have a goatee or a scar across his right clavicle. Dominic wasn’t in California, he was in London. Safe in London.
Not unconscious and bleeding in the middle of her ER.
She lost focus as the room began to spin. Rebecca grabbed the side rail of the bed to keep from hitting the ground. Dom. My God. Her chest felt as if someone stood on it.
“You know this man?” the medic on her right asked.
How could she ever forget? He’d haunted her, both asleep and awake, for nearly three years. She knew his scent, his wicked sense of humor. She knew that were he conscious, he’d be giving her a hard time in that sexy damn voice of his. That he had calluses on his fingers that set her body on fire. Calluses from years of playing the bass, something he did even while asleep; tapping out a rhythm against her hip.
“Yes,” she admitted without thought. Then she pulled her head out of the past and got back to work.
So what do you think? Me, I think I need to get my head back in the game and write some more.
At least I’ve been writing this week. Every day this week, actually. Interested in a sneak peek?
I’ll share, but only if you remember that this is rough and unedited. I take full responsibility for any errors in medicalese as I haven’t talked with my emergency room contact to verify accuracy.
Adrenaline surged through Dr. Rebecca Dahlman’s system, revving her pulse, pushing away the fatigue of an overly long shift better than the half pot of coffee she’d already consumed.
“Upon arrival, patient was unresponsive. We were able to get the c-collar on him right away, but had to wait for rescue’s hydraulic equipment to remove the door before we could get him on the backboard.”
Gown and gloves in place, Rebecca ran her gaze over the man strapped to the backboard with orange belts as they swung into trauma one and transferred him to the ER’s bed. Her team moved efficiently around the patient, cutting off his clothes with trauma shears.
The medic continued feeding her pertinent information as she began her own assessment. “Blood pressure is one-twenty over seventy-five, pulse ox one hundred percent. Pupils are dilated, equal and reactive.”
The guy was a bloody mess. Blood covered his face, soaked the left side of his head and shoulder of his shirt. He had a laceration on his left upper arm, deep enough to require sutures, and some bruises were already beginning to form across his chest from the seatbelt doing its job and holding him in place. Other than that, there were no other visible injuries. It was the injuries she couldn’t see that she had to worry about.
“I want a complete set of x-rays,” Rebecca stated automatically as she shifted closer and listened to her patient’s chest. Lungs clear, no abnormal heart rhythm. She looped her stethoscope around her neck and leaned in, searching the man’s scalp for head trauma. “Draw a trauma panel, tox screen and blood alcohol.”
Karen Williams, Rebecca’s best friend and charge nurse for the night, pulled the man’s wallet from the pile of clothes on the floor.
Directly above his left ear Rebecca uncovered the source of all the blood. Pushing her fingers into his hair, she palpated the injury site. The wound immediately began to bleed again. “No skull fracture that I can detect.”
“Rebecca.”
“I’ll want a CT scan of the head and neck.”
“Rebecca.” Karen’s voice was tight and pulled her attention. “It’s Dominic.”
For a moment, a heartbeat really, the words didn’t make any sense. Then, she looked closer. As if in slow motion Rebecca dragged her gaze up the torso, locked it onto the face partially hidden behind long, blood soaked hair. Her breath snagged in her throat and she froze, the sound of her pulse beating in her ears. It was a struggle to keep her hand steady as she pushed his hair away from his face and focused on his mouth, those lips, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top, the thin, straight nose.
“Stud,” she whispered, her voice torn.
His eyes were closed, ringed in thick black lashes. Were they open, she knew they would be the color of the sky just after a cleansing rain.
Her world tilted.
No. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t Dominic. Dominic didn’t have a goatee or a scar across his right clavicle. Dominic wasn’t in California, he was in London. Safe in London.
Not unconscious and bleeding in the middle of her ER.
She lost focus as the room began to spin. Rebecca grabbed the side rail of the bed to keep from hitting the ground. Dom. My God. Her chest felt as if someone stood on it.
“You know this man?” the medic on her right asked.
How could she ever forget? He’d haunted her, both asleep and awake, for nearly three years. She knew his scent, his wicked sense of humor. She knew that were he conscious, he’d be giving her a hard time in that sexy damn voice of his. That he had calluses on his fingers that set her body on fire. Calluses from years of playing the bass, something he did even while asleep; tapping out a rhythm against her hip.
“Yes,” she admitted without thought. Then she pulled her head out of the past and got back to work.
So what do you think? Me, I think I need to get my head back in the game and write some more.
November 4, 2010
Spotlight On... Alison Henderson
Author Alison Henderson is with us at the keyboard this morning. Welcome, Alison, can you tell us a little about yourself?Tell us about HARVEST OF DREAMS and where we can find it.
HARVEST OF DREAMS is my first published novel. It’s set in a small river town in northwest Missouri just after the Civil War, when the country was struggling to get back on its feet and rootless young men banded together to form the beginnings of the infamous outlaw gangs of the Old West.
Here’s a short blurb about the story:
Alone on her farm in the middle of a blizzard, young widow Lisa McAllister labors to give birth to her first child. Help arrives in the form of a stranger with a six-gun. Lisa has no reason to trust this man who makes a living by violence, even if he is on the right side of the law. Men and their guns have already claimed the lives of her father, brother, and husband, and she’s determined to protect her son at any cost. HARVEST OF DREAMS is available in both print and e-book formats at The Wild Rose Press and Amazon.com, as well as other online retailers.
You can read an excerpt HERE
Why did you choose your genre?
As the song says, “my heroes have always been cowboys”. Western heroes are larger than life and embody many attributes we still value today such as honor, courage, and independence. I think the concept, challenge, and allure of the frontier and the West have had a profound effect on our collective psyche and our definition of ourselves as Americans. Even in my contemporary romantic suspense stories, my heroes are cowboys at heart.
Where do you get your ideas?
I’ve always loved history, and in the Border States of Kansas and Missouri, reminders of the local history lurk around every corner. When writing historicals, many of my ideas are prompted by facts I uncover in my research.
How do you do your research?
I started HARVEST OF DREAMS back before the Internet made research a breeze, but the fact that I was able to visit the actual town of Weston, tour some of the antebellum buildings, and walk the old brick streets in the footsteps of my characters added a sense of place that’s hard to get from articles on the Internet. I visited the Historical Society and picked up a book compiled of old photographs and articles from the local newspaper from the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
How did you start writing?
I’m not one of those writers who always wanted to write. In fact, I never considered writing fiction until I took an extended sabbatical from work when my daughter was born. I had just discovered romance novels and was swept away by the grand creations of the early mistresses of the genre. When my daughter started preschool, I decided to try my hand. The resulting first book was unprintable but so much fun I tried again and produced the first draft of HARVEST OF DREAMS. I joined RWA and eventually learned what I didn’t know. Many years and many drafts later I’m proud of the result.
What do you find is the hardest part of writing a book?
I enjoy every part of the process from the research, to the plotting, to the magic of creating scenes and dialogue. The hardest part is having the discipline to sit down and write day after day for as long as it takes to tell your story to the best of your ability.
What is something readers would be surprised you do?
My day job is Vice President of Underwriting and New Business for a large life insurance brokerage.
Where can we find you on the web?
I invite everyone to visit me at http://www.alisonhenderson.com/
Is there anything you’d like to ask our readers?
Inspiration comes in many forms. What inspires you?
Thanks for visiting with us today, Alison. I wish you many sales!
Harvest of Dreams by Alison Henderson
Harvest of Dreams by Alison Henderson
Available at The Wild Rose Press
Available at The Wild Rose Press
Alone on her farm in the middle of a blizzard, young widow Lisa McAllister labors to give birth to her first child. Help arrives in the form of a stranger with a six-gun. Lisa has no reason to trust this man who makes a living by violence, even if he is on the right side of the law. Men and their guns have already claimed the lives of her father, brother, and husband, and she’s determined to protect her son at any cost.
Jared Tanner, a security agent for the stagecoach, has been on his own since he was twelve. With Lisa and her baby, he’s finally found something worth fighting for – a family of his own. But a fresh wave of violence threatens to tear them apart. Can their new love survive?
She remained silent.
"This doesn't change anything," he said.
Lisa pulled back and looked up, shaking her head. "It changes everything."
"No, it doesn't. The feelings were there before, and they'll still be there whether we act on them or not."
She didn't try to deny it. "But we can’t, and it will be so much harder now."
"That's true. Now you know how much I want you, and I know you want me, too. I don’t know where this is going, but we have to find out.”
“I don’t want to find out.” But a small voice inside denied the words. Part of her had to know.
“I think you do, and I know I do. I'm not going to offer to leave, even though it might make some things easier, not unless you can convince me you really want me to go." He cupped her face in both hands and searched her eyes. "Do you?"
Lisa knew she should say yes and remove the unbearable temptation of his presence, but she couldn't bring herself to speak the lie. She shook her head. "No."
Jared's lips moved in a tiny smile, then his serious expression returned. "I can't tell you I'll never kiss you again, or touch you, or that I won't want to get even closer to you, but I promise I won't press you for anything you don't want to give. I'd never do anything to hurt you. You know that, don't you?"
She nodded.
"Good. Now it's time for you to get some sleep." He led her to the bed and tucked her in, his hands lingering as he smoothed the quilt across her. Then he leaned over her, his expression rigid and deadly serious. "I want you to know leaving you tonight is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But I want more from you than one night in your bed."
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