by Kris Bryant
Breakthrough
Kennedy Wells is desperate to get back her dream job writing for Mainstream, Waters Publishing’s celebrity magazine. She’s worked too hard over the years to have it snatched away because of one tiny indiscretion that ended with a giant lawsuit. After five months of writing mind-numbing articles about current events, her boss agrees to let her get back to reporting on the rich and famous after one last story.
A born and bred city girl, Kennedy is sent to cover fishing in Alaska, which has her feeling just like a fish out of water. When Brynn Coleman, director of Alaska’s Wildlife Rescue and Sanctuary, comes to her rescue time after time, Kennedy can’t help but lower her guard and open herself up to Brynn’s standoffish charm. Falling for the sexy ranger is one thing, but is the possibility of love worth giving up a career she’s always dreamed of?
What Reviewers Say About Kris Bryant’s Work
Forget Me Not
“Told in the first person, from Grace’s point of view, we are privy to Grace’s inner musings and her vulnerabilities. …Bryant crafts clever wording to infuse Grace with a sharp-witted personality, which clearly covers her insecurities. …This story is filled with loving familial interactions, caring friends, romantic interludes and tantalizing sex scenes. The dialogue, both among the characters and within Grace’s head, is refreshing, original, and sometimes comical. Forget Me Not is a fresh perspective on a romantic theme, and an entertaining read.”—Lambda Literary Review
Shameless
“…She has a way of giving insight into the other main protagonist by using a few clever techniques and involving the secondary characters to add back-stories and extra pieces of important information. The pace of the book was excellent, it was never rushed but I was never bored or waiting for a chapter to finish…this epilogue made my heart swell to the point I almost lunged off the sofa to do a happy dance.”—Les Rêveur
Whirlwind Romance
“Ms. Bryant’s descriptions were written with such passion and colourful detail that you could feel the tension and the excitement along with the characters…”—Inked Rainbow Reviews
Taste
“[Taste] is an excellent traditional romance, well written, well conceived and well put together. Kris Bryant has given us a lovely warm-hearted story about two real human beings with whom we can genuinely engage. There is no melodrama, no overblown angst, just two women with an instant attraction who have to decide first, how to deal with it and second, how much it’s worth.”—Lesbian Reading Room
“Taste is a student/teacher romance set in a culinary school. If the premise makes you wonder whether this book will make you want to eat something tasty, the answer is: yes.”—The Lesbian Review
Jolt
“[Jolt] is a magnificent love story. Two women hurt by their previous lovers and each in their own way trying to make sense out of life and times. When they meet at a gay and lesbian friendly summer camp, they both feel as if lightening has struck. This is so beautifully involving, I have already reread it twice. Amazing!”—Rainbow Book Reviews
Touch
“The sexual chemistry in this book is off the hook. Kris Bryant writes my favorite sex scenes in lesbian romantic fiction.”—Les Reveur
Breakthrough
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Breakthrough
© 2018 By Kris Bryant. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13:978-1-63555-180-8
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: May 2018
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Ashley Tillman
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design by Sheri (graphicartist2020@hotmail)
By the Author
Jolt
Whirlwind Romance
Just Say Yes: The Proposal
Taste
Forget Me Not
Touch
Breakthrough
Writing as Brit Ryder:
Shameless
Acknowledgments
I have a wonderful family of friends, other writers, and readers who constantly encourage me to tell my stories. A heartfelt thanks to Radclyffe and Bold Strokes Books for publishing my books. There is so much that goes on behind the scenes, so many women involved that without their hard work, these books wouldn’t get into the hands of our readers.
How I am able to start a book and finish it is based solely on my friends pushing me (and looming deadlines). There are so many women to thank—KB Draper and Hot Stacy for being my cheerleaders and only a twenty-minute drive away when I need encouragement; Megan Ullrich and Maggie Cummings for boosting my ego and just being the coolest “they” in my life.
There are wonderful writers who inspire me to do my best—Friz, Carol, Fiona, Melissa, Georgia, Cindy, Heather, Dena, and hundreds more. We have proofers and readers who make our works successful. Thank you, Kathy, Sue, Nadine, Val, Karen, Kaz, Heather, Paula, and thousands of others who read our books, get the word out, and feel just as passionate about our stories as we do. Reviews are so important to our success. Thank you TLR, Tara, Sheena, Anna, April, Amy, Rachael, Lambda Literary, and the publications who push our names and reviews. Lesfic is a very important part of the literary world, and it’s growing bigger every day with every book that is written, published, and recommended. Thank you.
I owe so much to my editor, Ashley, for pointing out mistakes I never see, and for polishing my stories to a nice shine. She makes me cooler than I really am.
I am fortunate to have my dreams come true.
Dedication
To Deb
Alaska was one of the best trips of my life! Thank you for encouraging me to write this story. As much as I hate to admit, so much of this is based on true events.
Chapter One
Gum. Just my luck. I found the one spot in an empty parking lot where somebody spit out a piece of gum and I stepped right into it. The sticky pink glob spread beneath my heel and I grimaced in disgust. I leaned against the car to scrape it off, but lost my balance and stepped in it again with my other heel. Not just any heels, but my Jimmy Choos.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked no one. Both shoes were covered with tiny strings of gum and I was almost late to my meeting with my boss, Erin Waters. I shuffled over the asphalt to scuff more off on my way into the building. Not a great way to start my morning. I already knew shit was going to hit the fan because Erin rarely asked for a meeting. I gave up on the gum knowing I’d much rather deal with it later than worry about a disgruntled boss. I pulled at the front door a few times before I remembered it was a push through door. Lynn, the receptionist at Mainstream, saw me and laughed. As I’m sure she did everyone who fell victim to the backward door.
“Good morning, Kennedy. Nice to see you again.” Waters Publishing did a great thing when they hired her. She was the friendliest, and most helpful, receptionist.
“Lynn, please tell me you didn’t see me out there in the parking lot.”
“No. I did not see you zombie walk in the parking lot and wonder w
hy. Not at all.” She winked at me. I groaned.
“Hopefully you’re the only one who did.” I wanted to sit and chat with her, but I was expected upstairs. “Wish me luck.” I caught the elevator to the fifth floor and quickened my step the closer I got to Erin’s office. The door was slightly ajar so I busted in. She was expecting me.
“Good morning, Kennedy. Have a seat. Would you like some coffee or a doughnut?” Her nicety threw me off. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. Something was up.
“Why are you being nice to me?” The wolf-like grin on my boss’s face wasn’t the endearing kind of smile. My stomach sank. “Oh, hell. What do you want me to do?”
“It’s not that bad. I need you to cover a story for A&A’s August issue. You know I have to hold my brother’s hand during the transition, so I need to make sure he succeeds. His success starts with me and ends with you.” Travis had just graduated with his Master’s degree and their family was grooming him to take over Antlers & Anglers, Waters Publishing’s magazine focused on anything to do with the great outdoors.
I stared at Erin for a long time. She broke eye contact first. “You’re not serious, are you? Look at me. I’m cut out for city life. Besides, I’m almost certain I’m allergic to nature and bugs.” Erin pretended to ignore me and scribbled something on her notepad. The silence dragged. “Come on, Erin. I’ve paid my dues.”
We didn’t talk about what happened six months ago when Nikki Toles, soccer player extraordinaire, ruined my professional life. At least, we didn’t talk about it anymore.
It was supposed to be a simple interview. Mainstream had several journalists on staff who specialized in celebrity interviews, but I was the best and Erin wanted Nikki on the cover. After Nikki’s team won the national championship title, I scheduled an interview with the Most Valuable Player. It started off innocently enough. Dinner, laughter, a few drinks at the hotel bar. We took the interview to her room because we were constantly getting interrupted by her fans downstairs.
The interview stopped the minute Nikki stripped down and straddled my lap. The sex was intense, furious, and the things she did to me would still be delightful if the nasty lawsuit her husband slapped on Waters Publishing didn’t prevent me from enjoying the memories. I hadn’t realized their marriage was still a thing. She had assured me it was over, but he thought differently. I cooperated and supplied our lawyers with the text messages and emails Nikki sent me. Through the grapevine, I found out I was not her first indiscretion and I doubted I’d be the last. I hadn’t heard from her since the lawsuit.
Erin yanked me from my dream job of hanging out and interviewing the rich and famous as a form of punishment for not being professional. For the last six months, I’d written boring articles on old celebrities that people had forgotten about, and written several where-are-they-now pieces about fifteen minutes of fame internet stars. I missed my old life and felt it slipping away more and more with every ridiculous story I reported. But this was the first time she threw me the nature curve.
“I understand this isn’t something you normally cover, but you are one of my best writers and you can make it sound sexy and appealing. Plus, it will put a new spin on an otherwise boring story to tell it through the eyes of someone who never goes fishing.”
“That’s not enough of a reason to send me on an A&A story. It doesn’t make any sense,” I said.
Erin nodded. “Here’s the kicker. I’m glad you’re sitting down. Dustin Collings agreed to do an interview. He somehow managed to get a reality show about deep-sea fishing.”
“Oh, fuck. Not him.” Dustin was the biggest asshole on reality television. He got kicked off of the show Survive This and somehow managed to stay afloat by bouncing from low budget reality shows to creepy late night commercials. I thought long and hard before I answered Erin. “No.” I couldn’t believe I told her no after everything we’d been through. The look on her face informed me that wasn’t an option. “I mean, there has to be someone better qualified. I’m sure Jacob or Brian would love to go fishing and write about this dude. Why don’t you pick either one of them?”
“Because I want you to go. Celebrity interviews sell magazines and you’re the best at celebrity interviews. This is huge for A&A.” I sighed and opened my mouth to protest again, but she cut me off before I squeaked out another word. “Plus, Travis is doing an overhaul of his staff. He doesn’t have anyone capable of doing a feature.” I tried to cut in, but Erin kept talking. “I’ll tell you what. You do this one thing, and I’ll put you back on A-list interviews with Mainstream full-time. You get to go back to the cream of the crop and the lifestyle you love. Do we have a deal?”
“I want that in writing this time,” I said. She smiled and started typing on her computer. In a minute, she had a simple two sentence agreement. She signed, then handed it to me. I added my signature, and handed it back. She buzzed her assistant, Gabrielle, to make a copy of it for me. It wasn’t legally binding, but I knew it was enough to get Erin to keep her word. I smiled for the first time all morning. “Where am I going? Channel Islands? San Diego? Baja?” I wracked my brain and listed off all of the ocean fishing near LA.
“Anchorage, Alaska,” Erin said.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” It was the second time I’d asked that question in ten minutes. “I’m not prepared to go someplace so rustic.” My mind automatically raced through my closet. I had heels, dresses, and skirts. My sweaters were cashmere and definitely more fashionable than practical.
“Go to Accounting and grab a per diem check. Spend some of that on a pair of boots and a few thick soccer mom sweatshirts. I doubt Alaska at the end of April is parka weather. And take a camera. I’ll need photos, too.” It was almost as if Erin read my mind. My panic was evident.
“How long am I supposed to be there?”
“Until you get the story. It’s the feature. We need to have it written, edited, and sent to press in six weeks. Four would be better. Go there and figure out the angle.” She pretended to cast a line and then laughed at her fishing pun. I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, find something new and exciting with this guy and deep-sea fishing. So much has been written about it already. I’m hoping that somebody who doesn’t have the experience can find a refreshing side. Travis scored a ton of Alaskan adventure advertisements for the August release, so I thought it would be a good idea to make Alaska the magazine’s feature story. We trust you. Just get it done and do it well.” She dismissed me and I sulked all the way to her office door.
“When do you want me to leave?”
“Are you still here?”
Chapter Two
Right away I noticed two things about Anchorage. First, the airport was ridiculously tiny compared to LAX, and second, the Alaskan mountains were the most majestic I’d ever seen. Giant, massive white peaks that stopped me in my tracks when I stepped off of the plane. The mountains in California were gorgeous, but I was more of a coastal girl and spent my vacations at the beach. The last time I was on a snowcapped mountaintop was fifteen years ago on a high school ski trip to Big Bear.
Since I slept on the plane and had to be poked awake by a flight attendant, I missed our descent and the view from above. I wanted to take pictures of my first introduction to the ranges, but I refrained. I had at least three weeks to get better pictures than what I could standing on an airport tarmac. My main focus was learning all I could about fishing before I had my interview with Dustin Collings. If I didn’t have at least the basics down, he was the kind of man who would viciously tear me apart if I said the wrong word.
I secured a luxury sedan at the car rental place that was about two steps away from the ticket counter. How was this place so small? They offered me an SUV, but I hadn’t driven anything bigger than my convertible Volkswagen Beetle in years so I stuck with simple and practical. And expensive. I was amazed they had a Lexus as a rental option in the middle of nowhere.
Feeling refreshed after my five-hour nap, I decided to drive around
before finding a place to land. How busy could Anchorage be this time of year? It was what they considered ‘off season’ so I expected I could grab a room just about anywhere. Besides, I wanted to check out the hotels before I gave them my credit card information.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I needed to find some food and fast. I recognized a few chain restaurants, none of which offered a decent salad. Most restaurants were local so I picked the nicest looking one and parked. I shivered as I stepped out of the car. The weather was chillier than I expected. Since my warm clothes were limited, I’d traveled wearing a pair of slacks, a blouse, a thin, yet fashionable sweater that brought out the copper color in my brown eyes, and sensible heels. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to wear the clothes I’d bought with my per diem check. The two thick sweaters, two sweatshirts, two pairs of fashionable jeans, jacket, and hiking boots were packed in my suitcase. It had been hard to find warm clothes in Los Angeles, especially with only a day’s notice. All of the stores were racks of summer clothes only. As a result, none of my purchases were up to my usual standard.
A tiny bell dinged above me when I pushed through the diner’s door. The announcing bell was unnecessary as every single person in the joint stopped eating and stared at me. Either Anchorage didn’t get a lot of tourists, or I looked like a mess. I subconsciously patted down my hair and smoothed out my sweater. Did I have sleep lines on my face? Was something stuck in my hair? A fast moving waitress pointed to a booth near the back of the restaurant.
