Here's a little excerpt from
Kissing Midnight, my new paranormal romance, due out Fall of 2013. This is a phone conversation between our heroine, Saintly, and Dev, the guy she's agreed to go out with for the first time.
“Hey,” I say, “I was just wondering where we’re going
tonight. You know, so I know what to wear.”
“Well…” Dev
draws the word out playfully, “I thought it would be a surprise.”
I frown
into the phone. “I’m actually not big on surprises. No offense.” Honestly, I’ve
never been the most spontaneous person, but the last couple of years have made
me cautious to the extreme, and after last night’s experience at the warehouse,
I feel like I’ve had all the surprises I can handle.
“Oh,” he
says, “I think you’ll like this one.
“Oh,” I
say, “I’m sure I will, but, you know, I’m sort of more into schedules. Plans.
Things that can be written on calendars.”
He laughs.
“Okay, fine. On your calendar, please write…” He thinks a moment. “Write
the sky’s the limit.”
“The sky’s
the limit?”
“That’s
what I said. Now see you at eight.”
Before I
can stop him, he hangs up
Super. Now
what am I supposed to wear? Does “the sky’s the limit” mean something fancy? I
seriously hope not, but, judging by Dev’s clothes and his car, he doesn’t lack
for cash. I take my favorite dress out of the closet. It’s a standard-issue
LBD, the one I bought to wear under my robes at high school graduation. It’s
nice, but not exciting. And what if it isn’t stylish enough? I Google “Sky’s
the Limit” to make sure it’s not the name of a nightclub where my little black
dress might look hopelessly old school – or hopelessly high school – but no
names of clubs come up. Ditto for band names and movie titles, and I can’t say
I’m surprised: Bands and movies seem a little obvious for Deveraux Renard. A
little… tame.
A terrible
thought comes to mind.
I call Dev.
“Hello,
Saintly.” There’s a smile in his voice and a guitar solo wailing in the
background. “I had a feeling you might call back. What’s up?”
“We aren’t
going sky diving, are we?"
He bursts
out laughing. “We aren’t what?”
“Sky
diving! You know, leaping out of planes? Or hang gliding? Or… kite sailing?”
“What the
hell is kite sailing?”
“I don’t
actually know. But we’re not doing it, are we?”
He sighs
dramatically. “If you don’t like flying, I’ll have to cancel the private jet.”
I roll my
eyes at the phone. “I’m not kidding. And it isn’t flying I dislike, it’s
falling.”
“Hmmm…” He
lowers his voice. “But what if I told you, if you want to go out with me, you
have to be willing to fall?”
My heart
does something syncopated. Does he mean fall in love? A little nervous thrill
trips down my spine.
But Dev is
a player, I remind myself, and I’m not in a position to be played. Not with all
I’ve been through.
I take a
deep breath. “I guess I would say that I prefer to keep both feet on the
ground. I would say I want to go out with you, but not enough to risk life and
limb.”
Not enough to risk my heart.
Dev’s voice
is low and smooth, “What if I promise to make it worth the risk?”
I lower
mine to match. “Tell me what we’re doing tonight.”
“It’s a
secret.”
“I told
you, I hate secrets.”
He chuckles
darkly. “Then we’re not going to get along at all.”