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Once you've been torn so thoroughly from the world of the story by a failure in the world-building, it's impossible to read further. I understand that the world of romance novels is supposed to be idealized, but unless I'm reading a fantasy I expect the world of the romance to reflect at some level, the WARNING: I understand that the world of romance novels is supposed to be idealized, but unless I'm reading a fantasy I expect the world of the romance to reflect at some level, the reality of its chosen world whether that's medicine, law, or publishing.
Radclyffe is particularly strong when her books center on the world of medicine, which makes me how she ended up so far from what she knows. Apr 14, Fin rated it really liked it Shelves: This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. Overall I liked the book but couldn't help but think that the author took the easy way out at the end when Hays survived. Auden and Hays's story was well done but there was a second romance short story woven into the plot that, while not bad, seemed out of place to me.
Thane and Gayle deserved their own book IMO, but seemed to be used here as more of a filler. I think the author did this so she didn't have to delve too deeply into Hays's illness. How many readers want their romance novel to be abo Overall I liked the book but couldn't help but think that the author took the easy way out at the end when Hays survived. How many readers want their romance novel to be about the declining health of one of the main characters and her eventual death?
I would guess not many.
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And so the author avoids the whole thing. She has a secondary romance to add filler to the book, the illness doesn't really become critical till the very end and then Hays beats the odds and survives. Solid and enjoyable, but not overly courageous by the author. The story was very emotional and dealt with terminal illness.
It is a bit of a roller coaster ride emotionally and there are plenty of sensual scenes in the story. I really liked Thane, one of the side characters and an author at the publishing line Auden works at. She came off at first as flirty and cocky. But, there was a lot of heart to her and vulnerability at the end of the day.
She might be my favorite character of the book. I liked her relationship with Gayle, Auden's tenant and best frie The story was very emotional and dealt with terminal illness. I liked her relationship with Gayle, Auden's tenant and best friend and one supporter. Gayle too was interesting. Gayle is a doctor and seeing her balance being a physician and being a good friend was cool. She couldn't always tell everything she knew and yet she would try her best to be there for Auden. Overall, the book wasn't bad. It's my first Raclyffe book. It didn't bowl me over, but it wasn't a waste of time.
May 31, Carolyn McBride rated it liked it. There were parts I was not impressed with, let's get those out of the way first. The sex was unremarkable. Didn't do a thing for me and after I had closed the book, I barely remembered the sex, even though two characters were writing it. What did impress me and stayed with me after the book was closed was the secret between the two main characters. It was unique and believable, and the way their relationship flared and developed made an impression on me as well.
Nov 09, Svetlana Wesley rated it it was amazing Shelves: I liked Radclyffe's interesting idea of "books in the book", but was most impressed, of course, with the storyline itself. Once again, I did not think that I would be captured as much. The strength of the experiences on the approach to the end of the book made me feel emotional as well as physical pain.
It was perfect and unbearable at the same time! I like the book very much, but I find it hard to think to re-read it even though I really want it. Jul 16, Kirsty rated it it was amazing. I loved this book! I couldn't put it down and read it within 3 days! I loved the tension between Auden and Hays before they got together, and could really feel the love between them. My only issue with this book is that it was too short, there could have been so much more added to the end, I didn't expect it to end the way it did!
I have only read a few of her books, and can't wait to read more! Sep 23, Simone rated it really liked it Shelves: As with most of Radclyffe's books, I was pulled into caring for these characters. I enjoyed the plot overall. However I had a few issues. A few moments here and there to me did not add up to an undying romance. Also the ending, which was arguably the most dramatic time for these two ladies, was abrupt and not well developed.
This book does pull on the heart strings and is a good read overall. Fabulous read not to be missed A wonderful story of fiction and fantasy meeting real life. Definitely worthy of at least 5 stars the emotion leaps from the pages and pulls you into the story. The clever way the book combines the world of lesbian fiction with the story of the interaction between the main characters is amazing one of Radclyffe's finest. Jan 04, Sheila rated it liked it Shelves: It's a book about publishing and lesbian romance novelists.
From the notes, it's clear it was challenging to write--there are bits and pieces of other books and sex scenes scattered throughout it--and it was sometimes challenging to read, too. Now she only needs to convince Emily to marry her, a perfectly reasonable solution to all their troubles, or so she thinks. Flannery Rivers is content to let her sister Harper carry on the family dynasty—at the Rivers hospital where they both work and on the home front.
Now that Harper is settled and soon to be happily married, Flannery can ease back into her life of casual flirtations and find all the excitement she needs in the ER. She's even got her next playmate all lined up, or so she thinks. Abigail Remy is a city girl who accepts a position at the imperiled country hospital in the hope of finding a stable, safe community for her teenaged trans son. Unfortunately, when she arrives to work, she discovers the current ER chief is less than happy to be replaced by a fresh-out-of-residency newcomer.
Add unexpected attraction to the incendiary mix of city and country, fire and ice, tradition and change—and the prescription is combustible. There'd been a Rivers at the helm of Argyle Community Hospital for six generations, and Harper Rivers was set to take her father's place whenever he decided to hang up his shingle. Unfortunately, the board of directors had other ideas—they accepted a buyout offer from a health care conglomerate with plans to close the hospital's doors to the community that depended on it. And Presley Worth, a high-powered corporate financier, came to town to oversee the closure.
Funny thing was, no one asked Harper, and she had no intentions of following anyone's orders but her own—no matter how beautiful, smart, or commanding the new boss might be. They came unbidden, uninvited, demanding to be written, to be seen, to be heard. She opened her eyes, leaned forward, and placed slender fingers on the keyboard. Gaze turned inward, stillness suffusing her being, she typed. It was hard for me to believe that she didn't know how attractive she was.
I got the sense that she rarely thought about herself. I knew as we stood together, talking, that she had no idea the effect she had on me. My heart raced, my skin tingled, and my palms grew damp. I struggled not to let her see the faint trembling in my hands, although I doubted she would recognize my desire. Still, I needed to be careful. It was impossible, this attraction, for more reasons than I could say.
I wasn't free, even had the possibility of touch existed between us. I reminded myself of this even as I raised a hand to brush away the wisps of hair straying across her cheek. Her green eyes widened, deepening like the shoals in shadow, and her full lips parted as if to bless my coming. I had thought my touch might startle or surprise, but seeing her expression, some foolish part of me believed that my fingers against her skin would not be unwelcome.
She gave me no real reason to believe that, or any indication that it would ever be true. No sign--only the stillness in her face and the trilling beat of blood beneath the alabaster skin of her neck. She waited as my fingertips hovered above her cheek, her gaze warming mine, and the pleasure of the moment was so acute my breath escaped me on a sigh.
She smiled at the sound. To my amazement, hope rose within me. Such a foreign emotion, so long ago lost. Although I knew it doomed, I allowed the emotion to linger, savoring the swell of heat that followed close upon the dream. The words, or more correctly, the emotions that had inspired them, exhausted her. Rune leaned back in the chair once more, acknowledging fatigue and allowing her lids to close. Lights flickered behind her eyelids, ghostly afterimages of the characters, both real and figurative, that had streamed across the computer monitor, dancing just out of reach.
Often, she didn't realize what she had written until she discovered her imaginings captured in the regimented march of sentences down the screen. This anthology was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. The baring of fantasies and dreams and desires was proving far too personal a revelation to make while still hoping to remain unaffected.
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She hadn't thought her words had the power any longer to draw emotion from those places she had safely locked away. These snippets of time, moments captured through a glass darkly, had been wrenched from her depths, leaving blood streaking the surface of her soul. But then again, perhaps it was not her words , but their inspiration, that had turned the key and flung wide the door behind which she had sequestered her longings.
No, I haven't forgotten. Email addresses, titles of works currently in progress, and a list of submissions pending are attached for your review. She hadn't yet figured out what had captivated her so immediately, but the urge to return to the world between those covers was almost addicting. Pleasurable and exhilarating, but dangerous. She smiled to herself. Dangerous, adventurous-those terms had never been applicable to her ordered world before, and yet in a matter of hours, they had begun to feel familiar. Ten minutes before the conference was scheduled to begin, Auden gathered her notes and started down the hall.
The door to Haydon's office still remained open, but the publisher was not behind her desk. When Auden heard a soft moan, she moved a few inches into the room and glanced around. Haydon Palmer lay on the sofa, her jacket off and discarded on the coffee table beside her, her shirt unbuttoned far enough to reveal the subtle swell of pale breasts. She reclined on her back, one leg partially off the sofa, resting on the floor.
An arm dangled freely as well. She appeared to be deeply asleep.
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Uncertain as to whether she should leave or wake her, Auden stood rooted to the spot. When the sleeping woman twitched as if an electric current had discharged through her body and moaned once again, Auden forgot about propriety and crossed quickly to her side. Now that she was closer, Auden could see the sweat beaded on Haydon's ashen forehead and her eyes fluttering rapidly beneath the nearly translucent eyelids.
Kneeling next to the sofa, Auden placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and whispered softly, "Ms. Hays's eyes flew open, their dark brilliance eclipsed by the remnants of sleep. She blinked and murmured unbelievingly, "Auden? Surprised by the rebuke, Auden began to rise. She was even more startled when the publisher grasped her hand. I didn't mean to sound so short. I appreciate the wake-up call. Then she noticed Auden's concerned expression change swiftly to one of alarm.
Hays could feel it then, the warm trickle from her right nostril. She knew what it was and reached quickly for the clean handkerchief that she kept in her pants pocket. Swiftly, she pressed it to her nose and leaned her head back. Auden was probably more frightened than the minor incident demanded, but the memory of that soft moan made her heart twist.
Auden watched as Hays tucked in her shirt and reached for her jacket. Without the blazer, Auden saw that the publisher was thinner than she had realized. Hays wasn't frail by any means, but even now there was a fine tremor in her hands. She collected her laptop and slipped a Waterman pen into her breast pocket. The only exception is going to be graphics, because they pretty much cover everyone. Hays's use of Auden hadn't escaped his notice, nor had the way her voice dropped a register when she spoke to the young woman.
Is that what this impetuous hiring is all about? That's not like her. It makes sense to me, because she knows her authors so well. What do you think, Auden? I thought you might want to interview her sooner rather than later to see if it seems workable. At that, Pritchard's usually guarded expression registered frank surprise. Marketing is a key position. Hays said with a bite to her voice, "Ms. Frost will choose her own people. A strong director, one who is clearly in charge, is what makes a division work. Auden watched the exchange silently.
Haydon Palmer did not look as if she would back down in the face of Pritchard's disagreement. When there was no further rebuttal from Pritchard, Hays rifled through the papers in front of her, then continued. I want to get those books to press as soon as we can. She looked at her own list. I'll also need any style sheets and partially edited works from WomenWords' editors oh, and any formatted files they've already done. Hays grinned as well.
In addition, there's an anthology of erotica in the early stages, too. Apparently a compilation of new works from several of the authors. I intend to contact each of them within the next day or so. I'd like to meet with them if it's feasible. Hays looked momentarily surprised, then lifted a shoulder. There are discretionary funds available if you see the need to woo anyone with complimentary accommodations. On his way out he added, "Haydon, don't forget to fill Ms. Frost in on the promotional event. She had the strangest desire to brush back an errant lock of dark hair that had fallen across Hays's forehead.
She willed herself not to move. Softly, lids still closed, Hays answered. You'll need to be there, of course. Hays's hands rested inches from hers and Auden stared at the subtle pattern of veins and tendons beneath the delicate skin. The very fine tremor would have been unnoticeable to most, but Auden was looking for it. Hays stiffened and closed her hands tightly, angry with herself for letting down her guard.
How had that happened? Once back in her office, Auden couldn't forget the image of Hays lying so exhausted on the sofa, obviously in discomfort. Rubbing her temples, she pulled up the list of authors from WomenWords and forced Hays's face from her mind. Rune worked without a pause. She'd had glimpses of the scene for hours, images and half fragments of dialogue breaking into her consciousness whenever she let her thoughts stray. The words were like a melody that played over and over in her mind, tantalizing sweet and just as elusive. She was in a rush to capture them before they slipped away.
In my sleep, I ache, trapped in an ocean of fear. I cannot find the surface, the light eludes me. There is no air in my lungs, no sound to my cries. Then, distantly, the echo of her voice washes over me. She anchors me, instantly calming the restless uncertainties. I long to float within the circle of her arms, surrounded by her sweet fragrance, soothed by the melody of her touch.
The weight of my disbelief drags me down, far beneath the waters of my despair. Just as the welcome blackness claims me, she speaks my name. My name breathed from her lips is like a hand stretched down through the murky depths, beckoning me to follow. My desperately reaching fingers just miss hers.
I am losing the battle. She touches me, her skin-her skin warm on mine. Even in my sleep, the light caress infuses me with hope. I cry out for her and, without hesitation, she carries me to shore. Tenderly, she cradles my head in her lap and strokes my forehead, consoling me. My heart pounds, visible beneath the shell of my body, and she presses her palm to the place where it is breaking, healing me. I draw a breath, her fingers rising with me, never leaving my skin. She banishes the pain, and I open my eyes to thank her.
Rune read the passage slowly, an unfamiliar longing twisting through her. Not truly unfamiliar, merely forgotten. She could almost feel the fingers on her face, the tender touch. As soon as Auden let herself into her apartment, she walked directly to the rear of the apartment and into her bedroom. Once there, she curled up on the bed and reached for Secret Storm. She could taste herself on her lover's mouth, surprised to feel her own body stir again even as the vestiges of the orgasm that had racked her only moments before lingered.
Sliding down her lover's finely muscled form, she paused at the hollow of the arched neck to place a light kiss before continuing the slow descent, savoring every inch along the way. Pushing herself up on one hand, she slowly bit an erect nipple. Smiling, she slowly took the small nipple into her mouth, flicking it with her tongue until it was harder still, and the soft moans became urgent gasps. Her own lids were heavy, her eyes hooded with desire, as she lowered her head to kiss the taut stomach and lick a small circle around the trim navel.
As she felt her lover's hand stroke her cheek, she lifted those trembling legs over her own shoulders and bent to drink the sweet nectar that was, and only ever could be, love. Auden closed the book abruptly and stood, dropping it onto the bed. It wasn't as if she hadn't been expecting the sex, it was just that she hadn't expected it to affect her the way it had. Unmistakably and uncomfortably so. She walked rapidly through the apartment to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of ale from the refrigerator. She opened the bottle, poured the dark liquid into a glass, and took a large swallow.
Alone, she sat at the kitchen table, rubbing the cool glass across her forehead as her body slowly returned to normal. I always feel that way at the end of a shift.
Love's Masquerade () - IMDb
Gayle stopped at the corner of 23rd and Pine and leaned her shoulder against a light pole. Auden placed her hands in the pockets of the hunting jacket and rocked from foot to foot, searching for the words to explain her strange disquiet. I didn't expect to. I mean, I want to go home right now and read it over again. I guess that's why I love reading them so much.
I don't think when I read those books. Did it turn you on? No, I just enjoyed the two of them together. She couldn't remember how she had gotten to bed. Her mind was suffused with half-images and broken fragments, elusive memories fluttering on the edge of consciousness. Her body was strangely lethargic, too, floating in that indolent plane between sleep and wakefulness. The next instant, she became aware of the firm arm wrapped around her waist, and the heat of the body pressed to her back as she lay curled on her side.
Warm breath blew rhythmically across her neck. Carefully, she inched away, only to be stopped by the hand tightening against her stomach and a soft murmur of protest. Almost immediately, that hand, which had been softly stroking her stomach, drifted higher, cupping her bare breast. Sharply, she drew in a breath as a swift shaft of arousal pierced her.
Her thighs clenched as the muscles deep inside contracted. She felt the sudden urge to press her hips back into the heat that flared against her buttocks, but she resisted, lying as still she possibly could. This time, she couldn't help the small jerk of excitement that seared through her.
Rocking back against the soft breasts and firm thighs, she heard an answering moan. Struggling to contain the onslaught of sensation, her vision clouded as other senses burst to life. Her skin tingled, light danced beneath her half-closed lids, and passion beat in her bones. Fingers lightly explored her breast, then brushed the nipple which was already so hard, already so sensitive.
Everything pulsed in a single rhythm now-her body, her blood, the swiftly swelling heart of need between her thighs. Her mind emptied even as her flesh erupted with sensation. Excitement hammered in her depths, and she pulled her lip between her teeth to still her cries. The mouth on her grew more insistent, biting lightly in time with the rhythmic pressure on her nipples. It was more than she had ever imagined, and far less than she required. Not thinking, not questioning, she turned onto her back, grasping the tormenting hand, drawing it from her breasts, down over her abdomen, finally pressing it between her thighs.
Her body was screaming for release, her clitoris stiff and pulsing, achingly hard. The first touch was electric, and she reared up, stomach clenched-desperately watching as the fingers beneath her own stroked her. Her breath left her in a rush; she was dying, poised on the precipice of discovery. Even as the plea escaped her lips, she turned her head, eyes wide, searching for connection as her climax hovered just out of reach.
As tender fingers closed along her length, drawing her closer with agonizingly exquisite pressure, she met obsidian eyes, flecked with silvers and golds. When Auden arrived at work, she nodded hello to Alana and started down the hall toward her new temporary office. It's probably for the best if I don't see her for a while. Clearly, too much has happened too fast. I just need to get my sense of balance back. A few days with nothing to distract me should set that straight. She headed for her office, already thinking of whom she needed to contact, steadfastly refusing to think about the early morning dream.
I'd like to arrange a meeting here in Philadelphia at your earliest convenience to discuss future projects with you personally. Palmer would be happy to assist you with travel and accommodations. Let us know what you may require. Auden sent similar emails to the other seven authors she had inherited. To her delight, when she approached the lunch room for coffee, she saw that Hays's office door was open and voices emanated from within. Her happiness was short-lived, however. In passing, she was surprised to recognize not Hays's deep tones, but Abel Pritchard's distinctive baritone.
Auden moved hurriedly away, but as she poured coffee, she was still thinking about the odd snippets of conversation. When she turned around, Pritchard was standing in the doorway watching her. You have the information about the reception Saturday evening? Palmer didn't look well yesterday. I was just wondering-". When she returned to her office, Auden punched in a familiar number, then replaced the receiver.
A few moments later, the phone rang. The young surgeon's enthusiasm was contagious. Auden held the door wide and stepped aside so Gayle could enter. She caught a whiff of whiskey and smoke. Gayle flopped into the overstuffed chair in Auden's living room.
I had an offer or two. Love and good sex? She thought about the women who had so captivated her in Secret Storm. The love and affection and physical passion the two had shared. A minute later they were perched in front of Auden's computer. Seconds later, the website appeared. Welcome to Rune Dyre's fiction domain. These are love stories disguised as fantasies, mysteries, and chance encounters. The lovers are women and their love is physical. Please send your comments to Rune HeartLand.
Auden took the mouse from Gayle, followed the links to the stories, and clicked on the first chapter of Dark Passions. Her visual memory was nearly eidetic. Immediately, she saw the differences from the manuscript she had just read. But the changes in some places were subtle. Why buy the book when you can get it here for nothing? Extra scenes, more dialogue, smoother prose-the pleasure of holding the book in your hands and reading it anywhere you want. A lot of authors do it. Gayle stood and rubbed Auden's shoulders. I'll show you around the web. We'll check out some other authors, see what's on other sites.
Auden thought about what she had read so far, the physicality and raw emotions and sexual passion. And her own unexpected responses. Alone in her office in the Palmer building, Auden curled up in one corner of the plush brocade sofa, her shoes on the floor, her stocking feet tucked beneath her. Outside her windows, snow fell steadily while inside, she was lost in a scene that contrasted sharply with that quiet tranquility.
She was aware of lights being turned on in other rooms and the sound of soft music. She stood and waited, not thinking at all. When at last she heard sure footsteps approaching, her body stirred in anticipation. The effect this woman had on her was inexplicable, and lost in the moment, she didn't try to understand. She responded purely with her senses, and she liked that sense of abandon. She didn't want to think. She wanted to feel. She followed the blond stranger into a bedroom lit solely by soft blue lights in a recessed ceiling track.
She could make out a small table next to a large rectangular bed which dominated the otherwise bare room. When the stranger turned suddenly to face her, she stood absolutely still. In silence, the stranger reached out and loosed the buttons on her shirt, being careful not to touch the skin laid bare as the shirt fell away. Once exposed, her nipples contracted almost painfully, an urgent plea for contact. She hesitated only for a second and then unbuckled each of her heavy black boots and pulled them off.
Naked except for her leather pants, she stood before the stranger, still waiting. A slender hand traced the muscles in her shoulders and arms, then a palm lay against her chest and pressed, softly massaging the muscles beneath the smooth skin. Eventually, those hands moved down to her abdomen, carefully avoiding her breasts, outlining flickering muscles with deliberate strokes. The slow, wordless survey set a fire simmering in her belly. She felt her clitoris swell and moisture flow in response to the stimulation. Her chest was covered with a thin film of sweat. She was panting in the still room.
I won't hurt you, but once I start, I won't stop until I'm done. She looked back steadily, searching for a clue as to who this woman was.
The face was edgy and strong. The eyes, even in the half-light, were piercing and clear. Inexplicably, she sensed not danger, but honesty. The stranger nodded once and then moved purposefully to the side of the bed, reached somewhere beneath the frame and pulled out soft padded leather restraints. Deftly the stranger bound her left hand and ankle, then moved to the other side, and repeated the actions, leaving her securely but not painfully bound with her arms and legs spread. The stranger stood once again at the foot of the bed between her outstretched legs, slowly removing her own shirt, baring her upper body.
Small high breasts accentuated the finely muscled torso, and a pulse beat close to the surface of a pale throat. Silence enclosed them in the cone of blue light. She was bombarded with conflicting sensations. The feeling of being helplessly bound was at once frightening and exhilarating. She wanted this woman on top of her, she wanted her inside of her, she wanted more than she could put words to.
Her inability to actually seek her own release made her even more acutely aware of her desires. Her clitoris strained against the seam of her pants, threatening to explode just from the constant contact as her hips rocked back and forth. She stifled a groan as she stared transfixed at the stranger's body, so close to her and yet so completely untouchable. After what seemed like hours, all sense of real measure lost, the stranger placed both hands firmly on either side of her jaw, moving surprisingly gentle fingers over the flesh and bones of her face.
Then, with one hand under her chin, the stranger pulled her head back, exposing her neck to its fullest. Fingers traced the vulnerable structures of her throat, resting on the fragile windpipe as the blood rippled through the pulsating arteries just below the skin. A tongue ran lightly from her collarbone to her ear. A voice, barely a whisper. Just keep remembering my hands on your throat while I'm making you come.
The words made her hips jerk. She bit her lip to stifle a cry. She had never felt so physically vulnerable in her life. The restraints on her arms and legs were barely perceptible and yet she was totally immobilized. Now, with her throat exposed, locked in darkness, she felt as if she had lost control of her very life. Despite the helplessness of her position, she was powerfully excited. She feared that the merest touch was going to set her off.
Dimly, in the last part of her thinking mind, she knew she could break the spell of her own bondage by a word to the stranger. But she didn't want to escape. She wanted to feel what the stranger aroused in her. She wanted to know how far into her physical self the stranger could take her. Suddenly a sharp sensation centered in each nipple as hands caught her breasts, squeezing the erect nipples hard.
She gasped at the sudden contact, her back arching. The entire surface of her body was sensitized with need. Her clitoris twitched urgently. Suddenly, the small pinpoints of almost-pain disappeared, and a leather belt was placed the length of her abdomen, the buckle resting between her breasts. The soft tongue of leather was pressed into the moist folds between her legs. The edges of the belt rode against her distended clitoris, and the roughness against the exposed nerves pushed her close to orgasm.
She pulled against her restraints for the first time, wanting connection, needing to feel the heat of a body against her own. When lips finally claimed hers, their tongues met in a probing duel. When fingers slipped inside her, the belt trapped beneath the palm rubbing the length of her distended flesh, she moaned frantically. Her inner muscles contracted hard around the hand.
When a thumb slipped beside the leather to beat an insistent rhythm against her clitoris, she closed her eyes tightly, jaw clenching, and tried to resist the aching need to come. But she was too far gone; her body arched and bucked as she closed down on the fullness within, ripples of sensation flooding into her thighs, coiling through her belly. A strangled cry escaped her lips as the pounding in her head fused with that in her body, and her orgasm crested in one wave of unbound fury.
She was drifting on the edge of consciousness when the stranger straddled her, a leather-clad leg on either side of her thigh. She pushed her hips upward to meet the desperate downward thrusts, all of her energy immediately focused on bringing the stranger the same pleasure she had just experienced. The stranger gasped brokenly, jerking erratically, fingers clenched on her upper arms. There would be bruises.
When the stranger stiffened, then climaxed, moaning uncontrollably, she closed her eyes, triumphant. Auden rested the manuscript in her lap and closed her eyes. She'd read enough of the first draft of Rune Dyre's Dark Passions to know that it wasn't at all what she'd expected. Her reactions to the passion and intimacy she'd discovered in Secret Storm had left her in turmoil, but never more so than after reading this first encounter.
Love's Masquerade
She'd read the scene, in fact, reread it, several times, and was taken aback to find herself stirred both emotionally and physically. That fact confused her. If she had been asked, she would've answered categorically that such a scenario would never have stimulated her. Now, she knew differently, and yet she knew not what that meant. Why has nothing ever affected me this way before? What is there about two people A knock on her open door caused her to jump in surprise, and she turned, falling unexpectedly into Haydon Palmer's eyes. Auden caught her breath, her heart racing with sudden pleasure.
I met with Liz Nixon Friday afternoon about the position in marketing. She has some good ideas. Hays hadn't expected anyone to be in when she had come in to catch up on the paperwork she'd not been able to do the last few days. One of the most frustrating things about the illness was the inability to concentrate. It stole from her the one thing she valued the most, her ability to work. I've talked with her several times, and if she seems like a good match to you, I'm all for it. I never wanted an experienced director, because too often they come with preconceived notions of problems.
You don't have that. You're fresh and optimistic. Auden wasn't certain how to reply. Am I those things? It pleased her enormously that Hays viewed her thus. I've only read through a handful of the popular published titles, but this one is far different. Are you familiar with it? The very topic is going to prevent some people from reading it. Auden was brought up short by the question. Because that was exactly what she had been thinking. I assume our goal is to establish a profitable division.
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To me, that means that every book needs to be a bestseller. Or at least, we need to believe that it can be. Hays walked to the window. Surprised, Auden shook head. I'm bringing a friend, and I'm not certain precisely when she will be available. Certainly she would have a date. Hays pushed away from the window, her expression remote. Hays departure, as so often seemed to be the case, left Auden feeling slightly bewildered and oddly bereft.
Outside, the snow is falling, but inside there is warmth. Not just warmth, but light. It astounds me that I have not noticed before the absence of heat, for I know that I have grown cold.