The Artisans
Page 28
“There’s nothing you can’t say to me, understand? Nothing.” He meets my gaze. “We’ll be honest with each other and have no secrets between us ever. Deal?”
“Back to deals, are we?” He grins. I run my finger along the seam of his black leather jacket. “I wonder what your parents would have said if they had met me. We’re from such different worlds, you know?”
“I really don’t care. The greatest love stories are built on differences like ours.”
I yank a weed from the ground, continuing on as if he hasn’t spoken. “Yeah, but I’m poor, family scandalized in the news. Your dad would have shown me the door, I bet.” My laugh is harsh, humorless. “Not to mention I’m the love-child of my mother and some guy who skipped out on her.”
The muscles in Gideon’s body coil tightly.
“Whoa!” I squeal, laughing as he twists me around, pinning me underneath him in the thick winter grass.
“Now you listen to me, woman. We’re not comparing worth, remember?” His hands slide up my forearms. He holds my wrists in an unbreakable grip over my head. My chest rises and falls with my panting breaths. His eyes focus on me with fierce intensity. “You are everything I never knew I wanted. I love the way you think and create. I love your loyalty and stubborn pride. The dimple in your right cheek when you laugh, and the way your forehead creases when you challenge me. Most of all, I love when you sleepwalk into my bed late at night, and tell me how you really feel …”
My eyes stretch, and my throat slams shut. “Uh, I what?”
“I love how you weaken in my arms, and the sexy whimper you make when I kiss you below your ear.” My cheeks flame, mouth pops open.
“There will never be anyone for me but you, Raven Weathersby. I knew it from the start. And that’s final.” Gideon’s head lowers, his mouth covering mine in a searing kiss, masterfully silencing any further discussion.
The End
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
No writer births a story without the help of others. God has placed the most wonderful people in my life, and I’m grateful first to Him, and to the following for making this book possible. A huge, HUGE (as in, can I make you breakfast in bed?) thank you to the talented, amazing, and all around nice people listed below:
My husband: tireless listener, flower bestower, moon hanger—you are the triple threat among men, my friend. How did I get so lucky? My girls: Blake and Madelyne, my best friends, first, and way toughest critics ever. Llama face! Love you guys.
My mom and dad, who read to me.
Brittany Booker: dog lover, wish granter, and super-talented agent. Thank you for believing in me and for working so hard. XOXOX
The folks at Month9Books have my undying gratitude for taking a chance on me. Mucho thanks to my editor and hero Georgia McBride, Allie Kincheloe for cat herding and manuscript roping, Kerry Genova, and her super-powered proofreading eyeballs, Publicity and Marketing Director extraordinaire, Jaime Arnold, *bows* you are a flipping rock star—truly, Jennifer Million for kind words and organizational skills I can only dream of, and cover artist K. Morris for her artistic vision. Thank you! These people are whip-smart and chock-full of awesome.
Early beta readers that make up the four writing chambers of my heart, Julie Belfield (plot/story detail savior), Claire Gillian (big picture girl and spotter of heroines ‘too stupid to live’), Stephanie Judice (romance and feels director), and Kathleen Proa (currently holds the glittering grammar tiara). I’d like to say so much more about each of them individually, but all together? This book would be so much less interesting in about a hundred ways without their careful, spot-on advice.
Wendy Higgins and L.S. Murphy, thanks for being so great and agreeing to slog through a pre-pre-edited version and like the book anyway.
To my fans, I love you guys. No one could ask for better support than ya’ll.
And for every reader out there who gives this book a try, I thank you and appreciate you more than you could ever know. ((Hugs)).
JULIE REECE
Born in Ohio, I lived next to my grandfather’s horse farm until the fourth grade. Summers were about riding, fishing and make-believe, while winter brought sledding and ice-skating on frozen ponds. Most of life was magical, but not all.
I struggled with multiple learning disabilities, did not excel in school. I spent much of my time looking out windows and daydreaming. In the fourth grade (with the help of one very nice teacher) I fought dyslexia for my right to read, like a prince fights a dragon in order to free the princess locked in a tower, and I won.
Afterwards, I read like a fiend. I invented stories where I could be the princess… or a gifted heroine from another world who kicked bad guy butt to win the heart of a charismatic hero. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that? Later, I moved to Florida where I continued to fantasize about superpowers and monsters, fabricating stories (my mother called it lying) and sharing them with my friends.
Then I thought I’d write one down…
Hooked, I’ve been writing ever since. I write historical, contemporary, urban fantasy, adventure, and young adult romances. I love strong heroines, sweeping tales of mystery and epic adventure… which must include a really hot guy. My writing is proof you can work hard to overcome any obstacle. Don’t give up. I say, if you write, write on!
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Table of Contents
The Before
The Middle: Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Happily Ever After
Acknowledgements
About the Author
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