"Ms. Frost will choose her own people," Hays said with a bite to her voice. "A strong director, one who is clearly in charge, is what makes a division work."
Pritchard and Hays locked eyes.
"Besides," Hays assumed a softer tone, "I've talked to Liz, and I don't have any reservations about her qualifications. But whether it would work in practical terms—that ultimately must be for Ms. Frost to determine."
Auden watched the exchange silently. There was some kind of power straggle going on here, and she had no intention of getting in the middle of it. She imagined that Hays's youth and relative inexperience might make her appear less than capable to Pritchard's more seasoned eye. Nevertheless, Hays showed no signs of backing down in the face of Pritchard's disagreement. Auden found that strength of character admirable and was struck with the way that the publisher handled a man who had apparently been something of a father figure to her for much of her life. Hays was respectful but secure in her own position and certain in her decisions. She's very impressive.
When there was no further rebuttal from Pritchard, Hays rifled through the papers in front of her, then continued.
"The business division has already gone through the financials for the assimilated company, and there's nothing there that we need to discuss now. That was all handled by the attorneys during the acquisition process. Initially, we need to focus on three main areas: marketing, solidifying our author base, and moving ahead with the works in progress. I want to get those books to press as soon as we can."
"I'll need copies of every manuscript as soon as possible," Auden said. "I'll also need any style sheets and partially edited works from WomenWords' editors...oh, and any formatted files they've already done." She looked at her own list. "Graphics will need to get image files transferred, and I want to see the projected covers."
"I'll have all that for you by the end of business tomorrow." Hays made another entry in her laptop.
"Do you intend to read everything personally?" Pritchard asked. His voice held a note of incredulity that bordered on condescension.
Auden met his eyes, marveling at the cool impersonal gaze. She had no idea what he was thinking, "At this stage, I certainly do. Until I have been able to work with our editors long enough to trust their judgment, I plan on screening every manuscript that's submitted."
"That could turn into a sizable number."
"I definitely hope so," Auden remarked, the corner of her mouth lifting in a faint grin. "The more the better."
Hays grinned as well. "For now, I believe there are only six titles slated for publication. In addition, Liz has informed me that we can anticipate several sequels to works on their current publist."
"Do you have those titles?" Auden asked.
Hays glanced at her computer screen. "Not all of them. I'll look into it."
"That's all right. I can do that," Auden said as she wrote herself a note. Her head was down and she didn't see the quick look of approval that flashed fleetingly across Pritchard's face. "Do the previous contracts specifically mention right of first refusal for sequels?"
"It's vague," Hays remarked.
"Is legal working on new contracts for us?"
"Right here." Pritchard passed a folder to Auden. "For your comments."
She smiled at him. "Thank you. If you've reviewed them, I'm sure they're fine, but I'll look them over before they go out."
"Very well."
Hays opened a new file on her laptop. "There's an anthology of erotica in the early stages, too. Apparently a compilation of new works from several of the authors."
"Until we've established Destiny's presence in the market," Auden said, "we'll need to keep the authors we've inherited, if they're worth keeping. I intend to contact each of them within the next day or so to see what they have in the works. And I want to judge their level of interest in continuing with us."
"Excellent. By the way, until you have a secretary, I'll have Alana work with you to set up interviews for your support staff and section heads."
"I'll want to meet with the authors as well."
Hays looked momentarily surprised, then lifted a shoulder. "That will be up to you. Work it any way you want. There are discretionary funds available if you see the need to woo anyone with complimentary accommodations."
"Fine." Auden was pleasantly surprised by the degree of autonomy she had been given. She was also grateful that she would be working closely with Hays, at least in the short term. She was certain that there would be many issues she would need to discuss as she developed a sense of how her division would interface with the company at large and learned the nuances of her new area of focus.
"Abel?" Hays glanced at her associate. "Anything else at this point?"
"You'll want to inform Ms. Frost of the promotional event."
Hays winced, and Auden shot her a curious glance. "Right."
He stood and collected his papers. "That's all at this point, then. Haydon, don't forget we need to look at the quarterly projections."
"Okay, I'll be by shortly." Hays sighed.
"Very well." He nodded to Auden, murmured nearly inaudibly, "Ms. Frost," and left.
"A promotional event?" Auden asked with interest.
"Yes." Hays leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and groaned. "God, I hate those things."
"What's the program?" Auden regarded Hays, who was still very pale, with veiled concern. 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. "Hays?"
Lids still closed, Hays answered softly. "I thought it would be a good idea to launch the new division with a promotional reception and cocktail party. We've invited our new authors and the staff from Women Words who are interested in coming on board. Some of the local press, too."
"That sounds like a good idea."
"It sounds like a nightmare." Hays opened her eyes and leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. She grinned ruefully. "But it's good business. You'll need to be there, of course."
"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 now looking for it. You're not well. "You should go home," she said without thinking.
Hays stiffened and closed her hands tightly, angry with herself for letting down her guard. How had that happened? "Alana will give you all the necessary details for the event."
"When is it?" Auden tried to pretend she hadn't noticed the sudden change in Hays's tone. God, that was stupid of me. She's my boss, not a friend. Its none of my business, but she just looks so... drained. ,
"This coming Saturday night at the Four Seasons." Hays stood and closed her laptop. "Feel free to bring a guest."
"Thank you." There was nothing more she could say.
Hays nodded once, curtly. "See you tomorrow, then, Ms. Frost."
Once back in her office, Auden couldn't forget the image of Hays lying exhausted on the sofa, obviously in discomfort. Rubbing her temples, she pulled up the list of authors from Women Words and tried to dispel the disquieting memory.
-----Original Message-----
From: [email protected]
Sent: Tuesday March 18, 3:59 PM
To : [email protected]
Subject: Palmer Publishing
Ms. Dyre:
I am the director of Destiny Books, the new lesbian fiction imprint of Palmer Publishing. It is my pleasure to welcome you to Palmer.
With regard to your manuscript, Dark Passions, it is my understanding that it was accepted for publication by WomenWords at the time of their transition. I am anxious to see the current draft so that we may move ahead.
Please review the enclosed contract, which transfers publication rights of said work to Palmer, and notify me of any concerns or questions you may have as soon as possible.
I hope to meet with you personally at your conve
nience to' discuss future directions, and I look forward to working with you.
Sincerely,
Auden Frost
Director, Destiny Books
A Division of Palmer Publishing
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, tantalizingly sweet and just as elusive. She was in a rush to capture them before they slipped away.
Secret Passions - Scene Three
I'm dreaming of her now. Even when I'm awake, I'm still dreaming.
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 the distant 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.
I can't move. 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. I am losing.
Too weary now, my eyes close in surrender, allowing the darkness to enclose me.
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.
Visible beneath the shell of my body, my heart pounds, 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. Never leaving me. She banishes the pain, and I open my eyes to thank her.
Of course, I am yet dreaming. And I am still alone.
Rune read the passage slowly, an unfamiliar longing twisting through her stomach. Not truly unfamiliar, merely forgotten. She could almost feel the fingers on her face, the tender touch.
"How have you done this?" she whispered aloud.
The words mocked her.
"Of course, I am yet dreaming. And I am still alone."
Of course, I am still alone. With a disgusted sigh, she opened her e-mail program and began to scan the messages. Abruptly, she stopped, her eyes lingering on the unexpected name.
As soon as Auden let herself into her apartment, she dropped her briefcase along with the mail she had collected from the shared foyer onto the small telephone table just inside her front door. Then she walked directly to the rear of the apartment and into her bedroom. She undressed quickly, taking time only to hang her suit on the closet door, and pulled on comfortable loose cotton pants and a favorite faded V-neck sweater. She curled up on the bed and reached for Secret Storm. Before opening to her place from the previous night, she rifled through to the back and found what she was looking for.
AUTHOR'S BIO
Rune Dyre has published three novels: Hidden Dreams, Dark Destiny , and Secret Storm .
Lesbian Review stated, "Dyre has a talent for infusing the classic romance with an eroticism rarely seen in a love story. She blends the two effortlessly and promises to satisfy aficionados of either genre."
Dark Passions, a forebodingly captivating romance, will be published by WomenWords in the near future.
Auden was disappointed to discover nothing particularly revealing. She wasn't sure what she had hoped to find or why she should care about information concerning the author. The usual official titles and affiliations that she looked for in a scholarly text would have no meaning here. And personal information about the author was of no consequence. Who Rune Dyre was didn't matter; only what she wrote affected Auden. Her words spoke for themselves.
Impatiently, Auden opened the book, began to read, and as had happened the night before, was soon absorbed. Again, the hours passed unawares.
She could taste herself on her lovers 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 lovers 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.
"Oh, love," came the quiet sigh.
Smiling, she slowly took the small nipple into her mouth, flicking it with her tongue until it was hatder 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.
"I want to see your face when you come for me," she murmured, nipping at the soft skin of her lover's inner thigh, then blowing a light breath on the soft curls between taut thighs. 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 scene. Despite the clear action-oriented plot, Secret Storm was just as much a love story as a thriller. She just hadn't expected it to affect her the way it had. She was aroused. Unmistakably and uncomfortably so.
Her heart pounded, and there was an undeniable heaviness in the pit of her stomach. She had become so involved in the love scene that even when she'd felt herself starting to respond physically, she couldn't turn her eyes away. Not until she could no longer bear the urgency in her own flesh.
The physical excitement itself wasn't new, and she was no stranger to the pleasures of satisfaction, either. She'd just never encountered such intense arousal in this way before, never really thought about the source of her excitement at all. But considering it now, she supposed that she had always assumed it was simply physiologic. She had a body; it was natural now and then to feel physical arousal. But she'd never before become sexually excited just from reading a book. Sometimes images from a film had lingered in her mind and formed a backdrop for her desire, but never in the true sense of sexual fantasy. Her mind just didn't work that way.
"Well, it seems to be working that way now." She walked rapidly through the apartment to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of pale ale from the refrigerator. She opened the bottle, poured the liquid into a glass, and took a large swallow.
"God, my hands are shaking. I can't believe this."
Alone, she sat at the kitchen table, rubbing the cool glass across her forehead as her body slowly returned to normal. "What have I been missing?"
As the moments ticked by, her thoughts were not on fiction.
"Hey, come on in," Gayle said in surprise as she opened her apartment door at the sound of a quiet knock. "What are you doing up so late?"
"I heard you come home, and I was still awake," Auden explained sheepishly. "I know you're probably beat."
"Nah, I'm wired. I always feel that way at the end of a shift." Gayle grabbed Shylock's leash and said, "I have to run him around the block. Wanna come?"
"Sure. I'll just go downstairs and get a jacket."
"Don't bother. Take one of mine." Gayle gestured to several coats hanging on pegs just inside her door.
Auden pulled down a quilted red and black checked hunting jacket and shrugged it on.
Gayle cocked her head. "You look kinda cute all butched out in that jacket."
"Oh yeah?" Auden blushed furiously. "Is that all it takes—a jacket?"
"No, honey. What it takes is attitude." Gayle nudged her playfully with a shoulder. "Besides, it would take a hell of a lot more than flannel to hide your femme power."
"Let's just go walk the dog," Auden said, but she laughed as she felt her spirits lift..
As Shylock pulled her down the sidewalk, Gayle asked, "What are you doing up so late? Aren'
t you usually in bed by now?"
"I couldn't sleep," Auden confessed. The two friends stopped as Shylock investigated a tree trunk and then left his mark, the first of many on his nightly route. "I've been doing my homework."
"Your homework? Oh...your reading list." Gayle chuckled. "How's it going? Are you suffering from culture shock yet?"
"No, actually, I'm...enjoying it."
Gayle glanced at her sharply, alerted to something amiss by the pensive tone in her friend's voice. "Is something wrong? Bad day at work?"
"No, not at all," Auden said quickly. "It's just..." She paused, frustrated, and shrugged. "I don't know. I just finished the first book a few minutes ago. That's when I heard you come in."
"Which one did you read?"
"Secret Storm."
"Ahh," Gayle said, stopping abruptly to disentangle Shylock's leash from around a fireplug. "Did you like it?"
"Very much."
"It's pretty...racy."
"Yes."
Gayle stopped at the corner of 23rd and Pine and leaned her shoulder against a light pole. After midnight on a weeknight in the residential area, the street was deserted. Shylock busied himself trying to dig out a piece of trash from beneath a parked car., "Okay. What's going on?"
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 really liked the book. I didn't expect to. I mean, I want to go home right now and read it over again."
"You mean, you liked the women?"
Auden stared at her friend. "Yes. I liked the women."
"Uh-huh." Gayle nodded. "Come on, Shylock," she said as she tugged on his leash and resumed walking. "That's what's supposed to happen in these books. The women are supposed to make an impression on you. You're supposed to feel as if you know them or, sometimes, as if you might even be them. That's the whole point."
"Well, I guess that's what happened, then."
"It's not so different than any other book, right? Any good writer will do that—draw you in."
"Of course." Auden hesitated. "But it was more than just a transitory sense of connection. It was...recognition." She drew a deep breath and looked into Gayle's eyes. "I saw myself."
Radclyffe - Love's Masquerade Page 5
