Get in line, ladies. Georgia loves him too. If only he really existed.
When she meets Garrett MacCauley - a charming book store owner in Inverness - Georgia is startled by some striking similarities, from his middle name to a scar on his right hand. Hell, he even shags like him!
But Douglas MacCready can't be real. He's just a character in her book, right?
Or has Georgia carried him with her all along?
A story of love and destiny, WRITING MR. RIGHT shows the magic of true love, the mischief of fate, and reminds us all that when two people are meant to be together, nothing can keep them apart.
THE BOYFRIEND EXPERIENCE - Steven is a private escort, and a mighty fine one at that. He takes pride in catering to the needs of his female clientele, from the cut of his suit to the color of his kerchief. Despite experience, there is one client that rattles him; Martina, a passionate woman who treats herself to Steven's services as a birthday present every year. Their liaisons have left Steven with a crush, only driving him further to meet her every need. When Steven arrives at Martina's door he is ready to wine, dine, and please his favorite client, but by night's end we will discover that Martina - and Steven - are not who they seem.
For readers with a love of steamy Gothic Mysteries
THE NAMESAKEN Series –
WILLING – Street savvy Constance is a prostitute that has survived the Ripper's reign of terror by working her trade in the safety of her room at the Keg and Barrel - but is any girl truly safe in Whitechapel? When the enigmatic Lord Alisdair requests her services at his estate, Constance discovers the occult underworld of London's elite - and finds herself at its center.
As Alisdair shares his secrets, Constance becomes his willing altar, offering herself to him and his rituals in body and soul. She's seen Alisdair's power, seen it grow with her at his side, but as the circle's secrets unfold before them, will their connection be enough to get them through London's darkest hour alive?
HYSTERIA - Her sanctuary turns into a nightmare after sunset.
On the run from her abusive mother, inexperienced Liv was very lucky to find honest employment as a scullery maid in the household of Dr. Findlay Lennox. Unfortunately, her luck runs out at nightfall, when the ghosts that only Liv can see steal away any hope of sleep, leaving her clumsy with exhaustion.
Her employer offers her the most personal of services.
Dr. Lennox is well versed in a very special treatment for female complaints. His experiments on prostitutes have given him intimate knowledge of the female anatomy, allowing him to manipulate it as an effective treatment for hysteria, melancholy, and as he assures Liv, sleeplessness. Liv reluctantly agrees to be his patient, but cannot pretend that the touch of his hand hasn’t sparked something more than medicinal. It isn’t long before she is seeking his expert attention more often – but how long can either of them pretend it isn’t more?
A growing threat far greater than forbidden love
As Dr. Lennox's patients begin to go missing, his colleague, Dr. Knox, draws crowds in the hundreds to his dissection classes. Soon the ghostly crowd in the Lennox household expands to include the prostitutes that had served as Dr. Lennox's volunteer subjects. Liv begins to suspect that these missing women have met an ill fate, but can she convince Dr. Lennox in time to stop the darkness spreading through Edinburgh’s streets, or will she be the next one to find herself on Dr. Knox's slab?
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BONUS MATERIAL
Please enjoy the first two chapters of WRITING MR RIGHT.
CHAPTER ONE
“Has she been awake at all?”
The nurse, Carolina, glanced over her shoulder as she checked Nana’s pulse. Carolina’s skin was dark and warm, and seemed to glow from within, all the more so when she smiled. “She ate breakfast this morning without any help. We’re having a good day.”
With that, the nurse slipped out of the room and Georgia pulled her chair up to sit beside her Grandmother’s bed. She settled there, clutching this precious thing in her arms – her book. It wasn’t done. It wasn’t close to done, but it was being written. Finally, she was writing.
“Hello, my beautiful girl.”
Georgia startled, looking up into the sleepy eyes of her grandmother, Minnie. The plastic tube was tucked up under her nose, and her gray hair was pulled back into a ponytail beneath her. She was wrapped in her favorite sweater, white and soft around her shoulders.
Nana slumped her arm off the side of the bed to hold Georgia’s hand. “Have you come to read to me like I asked?”
Georgia took her hand, squeezing it, feeling the knots of each knuckle. “I have.”
Nana smiled and settled into her pillows. Georgia set the pages in her lap and began to read.
I was floating there in the dark, staring up at the stars. The water was too cold, and I knew it. I floated in silent acceptance – those stars would be the last thing I would ever see.
I startled, nearly swallowing the sea as a hard object bumped into my shoulder. I flipped over in the dark water, my arms and legs slamming into the rough surface – rocks. Rocks. I’d reached land.
I scrambled for purchase. Each rock was covered in the slime of seaweed, but beneath that, barnacles and jagged shards of shell cutting into my hands and feet. A wave crested, carrying me further up the rocks, but it soon receded, pulling me along with it.
What a crime this was of Mother Nature to bring me within reach of salvation, then dance me away from it, too weak with cold to pull from my partner. I curled my fingers into the weeds, feeling them pull free from the rocks as another wave pulled me towards the sea. I roared in grief, realizing I would drown just inches from dry land.
“Need a hand, lass?”
I startled, searching in the dark for the source of the voice. I met his gaze, and sighed with relief as my green eyed salvation took my hand and pulled me ashore.
“Oh, I like him. Green eyed salvation.”
Nana was smiling, eyes still closed, listening along to every word. Georgia read to her for an hour, glancing up to see if she was still awake, still listening. Her voice began to grow tight with use, but Georgia continued reading as she’d promised. Finally, she reached the first steamy scene, and she stopped, skimming along the pages to find the next PG13 section.
“Why’d you stop?”
Nana was awake.
Georgia shook her head. “It gets kinda steamy there, so I’m jumping -”
“You read those damn pages, girl. I’m not long for this world. Give an old woman something to smile about.”
Georgia chuckled, frowning. “You might like steamy scenes, but I’m not too keen on reading them to you. Especially when I wrote them.”
This was no bodice ripper scene with euphemisms and poetry. Georgia went all in with her love scenes – all in.
“Do as you’re told, you willful thing,” Nana said, eyes closed still despite her stern expression.
Georgia took a deep breath and continued reading. Five minutes later, the scene was done, and Georgia looked up from the book to find Nana smiling and Carolina standing in the doorway, brows high, fanning herself in appreciation.
Georgia felt her face turning bright red.
“Sorry to interrupt, but your other granddaughter is here, sweetheart.”
Georgia tucked the manuscript into her bag and rose to greet her baby sister, Samantha. She was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and looked as though she’d just gotten out of bed. It wasn’t the happiest time in either of the Kilduff sisters’ lives.
“You two girls - why do you seem so sad, the two of you?”
Georgia knew the answer to this for both of them. Georgia’s beloved Walter, the man she was sure the fates h
ad chosen for her, was behaving strangely. He’d gone from doting and affectionate to almost completely absent upon hearing that her beloved grandmother was sick. Samantha was a recent college dropout, her depression having kicked back in after a switch in medication.
Then above everything else, Nana was sick.
“We’re fine, Nana. I’m fine. Just tired, is all,” Sam said, giving her as tight a hug as Nana’s fragile frame could take.
“You’re both full of shit, what’s wrong?”
Sam laughed. “It’s nothing. Just worried about you.”
Nana waved a hand. “Well enough of that. I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. I get to see your Papa soon. I get to see my parents, my Cymbeline.”
Georgia smiled. Cymbeline was a cat, and she’d been dead for thirteen years. It was true, she was a pretty special cat.
“Your sister was just reading to me from her bestseller,” Nana said, gesturing a gnarled hand toward Georgia.
Sam glanced over at Georgia, brows high. “You’re writing? Man, that’s awesome, Gigi.”
Georgia took a deep breath. “I’m trying. It’s helping with my – eh mood.”
“It’s set in Scotland,” Nana said, smiling.
Samantha laughed. “Of course it is. Wonder if this one’ll come true, too.”
Georgia scoffed, but Nana was taking Sam’s hand. “Here, hand me my cards.”
Nana pointed to her bags, tucked into the corner of the room. Samantha protested, but did as she was told, bringing Nana’s old canvas bag to the bed. A moment later, Nana’s gnarled hands were curled around her tarot cards, the smell of incense still drifting from their surface.
“Right, let’s see what they have to say.”
Samantha shook her head. Though she’d believed in Nana’s magic as a child, growing up and feeling troubled much of the time had nearly robbed her of her mysticism. Georgia settled down in her seat. Georgia could grow to be an old woman, she would still love to have Nana read her cards.
Minnie Kilduff shuffled to the best of her ability, then flipped a card into her lap, letting it slide down the folds of the blanket. Georgia could only see the corner, but she recognized it - The Star. Nana flipped a few more cards, humming to herself in agreement or excitement, or even foreboding. Georgia simply waited. She would let Nana tell her what they meant.
Nana glanced over to Samantha, then to Georgia. “Everything is going to be alright.”
Samantha snorted, turning away from the bed.
“You’re both going to have success. Great success from the looks of it.”
“You’ve always said that,” Samantha said, her lips pinched tight.
“Yes, and it’s always been true. I’m telling you now, it’s coming soon. For both of you. Even bigger than I thought.” Nana tapped the cards. “Don’t pretend you don’t believe in this anymore, Samantha Kilduff. You know as well as I do that you’re like me. You both are. Make the things you want happen.”
Samantha leaned against the doorjamb. “Yeah, tell me how. I’ll get right on it.”
“You -” Nana pointed a crooked finger at Samantha. “- you cut that sour puss. Speak of only what you want. For what you speak comes to be. And you -”
Nana turned to Georgia, reaching out a hand. Georgia took it.
“You’re like your Mama. You watch what you write. You know this, I know you do. Write only what you want, sweetheart. Write happy stories with happy endings. You’ll have your own soon enough.”
Georgia shook her head, thinking of Walter’s strange behavior, of the constant push and pull of his moods. She’d done as Nana taught her, writing her wishes down every chance she got. Still, despite the dozens of times she wrote ‘I have my true love’ on every note pad or post-it she could find, Walter kept pulling away.
To add insult to injury, now Walter was pulling away when she needed him most. This time felt cruel.
“You know I don’t have the best luck when it’s my own happy ending, Nan,” Georgia said.
Nana smiled. “Sometimes land is closer than you think.”
Georgia gave a sad smile, glancing toward the manuscript on the table.
Samantha moved across the room, coming closer to the bed to look. “So what does it say? I’m going to succeed? How?”
Nana pointed at the cards and shrugged. “I don’t know how. It simply says it is coming.”
“What about me?” Georgia asked, leaning in. “Am I ever going to marry my soul mate, make babies, live happily ever after?”
Nana smiled, patting Georgia’s hand. “Success comes for you both.”
Georgia sat back down in her chair. “Success doesn’t necessarily mean love, does it?”
Nana shook her head. “It means everything you want it to.”
Georgia nodded, taking a deep breath.
“Soul mates always find their way to each other, my dear. In every life. And you know you have one.”
“Do I?”
Nana smiled, glancing down at the cards. She tapped her hand on the King of Wands. “You know you do. And the cards say you’ve already met him, too.”
Georgia glanced up at her, feeling strangely serene to hear her conjure woman of a grandmother say such things. If she’d already met him, then Walter would come around. He’d stop with the back and forth and make it all right. He’d be there for her when he was ready.
“Now take these away, sweetheart,” Nana said, collecting the cards and handing them to Samantha. “I think I’d like Georgia to read to me while I relax and wait for my lunch. Will you stay?”
Samantha nodded. “Of course.”
The three of them settled in, Georgia scanning the typed page for the last line she’d read. She took a deep breath and began to read, delving into the world of piracy, bootlegging, and kidnapping that she’d inadvertently wandered into while sitting at her laptop trying not to think of Nana, or her mother, or Walter Timlin.
Nana slept through lunch.
By supper, she was gone.
Georgia found herself wandering the halls of Emerson Hospital in a daze. Dad was on his way to the hospital, and Samantha was outside, smoking her thirteenth cigarette. Georgia had texted Walter, telling him she needed the comfort of his voice. If he would just put his arms around her, everything would be alright. She could get through it with that pillar to lean against.
She clutched her hand around her phone for the full hour it took him to text back. She stood a few feet from the nurse’s station as the text came in.
It isn’t healthy for you to seek me right now. You need to be with people who love you, and I don’t. I’m sorry.
Georgia stared at the screen of her phone, and the whole world vanished around her. None of this was real. A man couldn’t be that cruel, could he? It couldn’t be real.
Georgia felt arms around her shoulders, and turned to find Carolina at her side, holding her as she crumpled to the floor in tears.
CHAPTER TWO
Two Years Later
The plane rumbled beneath her as the wheels touched down on Edinburgh International Airport. The G’s had barely settled when her cell phone began to ding incessantly in her purse. Georgia kept count – one, two, four. The ringtone began to trip over itself in reaction to the deluge of texts, all from her well-meaning assistant.
Christ, Cassie. I’ve only been gone seven hours. Chill the hell out.
Georgia leaned down and snapped the phone up, shutting off the ringer so her seat mate wouldn’t hear just how psychotic her assistant was. Georgia glanced at the older gentleman beside her – a gray haired Scot from Inverary who liked to let his nose hair grow a little long. He gave her an eyebrow wiggle and she turned her attention to the phone.
Call Burgess.
Sam says apartment is clear. I’ll pick up deposit on way home.
Another review in Entertainment Weekly. A-!!
Call Burgess as soon as you land.
They want to know if
you’d be alright adding a third stop in Inverness.
Scotland must like you or something.
Two interview requests in Edinburgh. Will you have time? Call me as soon as you land.
Have you landed?
It says you haven’t landed. Call me when you get these.
It says you landed.
Despite the barrage, Georgia chuckled as she pulled up Cassie’s contacts and pressed send.
“Oh thank God, you landed!”
Georgia rubbed the unsatisfying plane sleep from her eyes. “Just. Still on the plane. Why? Was there ever any doubt?”
“I don’t know. No. Still, I just get antsy sometimes.”
“You don’t say?”
Cassie unleashed the text worthy information anew and Georgia yawned. They’d arrived at 8:45 am, but for her it was 3:45 am, and she was riding on less than forty five minutes of fitful sleep, curled up beside Snores McGee of the catastrophic nose hair. She sniffled softly, grumbling at the thought of coming down with something.
“So your car should be in arrivals for you. They’ll take you to the Hyatt in New Town. Your first signing isn’t until tomorrow morning – car will arrive at nine, but the newspaper has asked for an interview this evening. It can be done by phone. Are you going to sleep all day?”
Georgia closed her eyes. It was too early in the morning for this kind of energy, and what the hell was Cassie doing still up, anyway?
“How many Lattes have you had today, Cassie?”
“All of them.”
Georgia laughed. “Thought so. Yeah, I’ll probably try to catch a nap when I arrive.”
“Good. That’s good. And you’re not gonna go on Facebook, are you?”
“No, why?” Georgia asked, mid yawn.
“No reason. Just curious.”
Georgia paused. “Why, Cass? What’s on Facebook?”
“Nothing. Just curious. Was just updating the account for you, didn’t want to double post.”
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