Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle

Part III - The Finale

“Paul, wait! Damn it. The line’s dead.” He grabbed the guard’s arm before he could leave even as powdery pebbles of debris fell from the ceiling. “Which elevator is she trapped in?”

“I don’t know, man. There are four in the building.” Paul looked nervously at the ceiling. “We’re exposed here.”

“Okay. Look, is there some way I can call the line from outside?”

“Naw, man. But she’s probably got her cell.”

“You know the number?”

“Sure. It’s in there.” He stabbed at a book. A bit more debris fell like ominous rain on the guard’s desk.

“Constance…” Jared demanded as he opened the book and began to scan the employee and tenant directory.

“Constance Meriwether. Dude, we need to go.”

“We need to get everyone out first,” he snapped, both stunned and somewhat angered over the guard’s statement. “Everyone.”

He’d known a Constance Meriwether back… Damn, how long had it been?

Another rumble had the guard backing away. “Won’t be able to help if we’re crushed.”

Jared let the man run. He didn’t have time to debate. “Send the fire fighters in soon as they arrive!” he shouted as Paul followed what seemed to be the last of those to flee the building. He found the number and dialed it while he backed into a doorway which, he hoped, provided a bit more structural integrity. That last aftershock had him worried. If another struck before…

* * * * *

Connie’s terrified scream echoed back to her in the small confines of the elevator, which had dropped with a jarring thud during the last tremor. Thank God she hadn’t fallen far, perhaps one floor. If she’d been on the fifth floor where her office was… No, she didn’t want to think of that.

She just wanted out!

Unfortunately, she’d injured her hip in the fall, jarred her elbow, and would have a good-sized goose egg on her head by morning. If she lived that long…

She frantically tried to reconnect with the man or anyone on the phone, while the darkness that seemed to close in around her left her with a total lack of coordination.

The phone rang.

But it wasn’t the emergency phone. It was her cell. Yanking it from her purse, she said, “Hello! Oh, God. I’m stuck in an elevator. You’ve got to help me. Who is this?”

“Connie, calm down.”

She realized two things in that instant. The caller was the stranger on the phone with the nice, soothing voice. And she was sobbing.

“Please, help me.”

“Fire fighters are on their way.”

“What’s taking so long?” she all but shouted.

“They’ll be here. I’m here. Listen, Connie. I need to know what elevator you’re in.”

“The one in the south corner of the building. The car fell. I think I’m on the ground floor now, but it’s dark. I can’t see a thing.”

“Are you hurt?”

“I’ll live if I can just get out of here.”

He gave a soft laugh, and she wondered how he could remain so calm. “Really want to head for that beach, huh?”

She knew what he was doing, trying to keep her mind off her circumstances so the terror didn’t build. Still, she answered, “Actually I had other plans, but that fell through thanks to Mother Nature. She hates me, you know.”

Another chuckle, soft and deep. She liked the sound of his amusement.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She does! I was all set to go to my high school reunion this weekend with a friend, but he’s stuck in Chicago.”

“So, you can still go.”

She snorted. “Right. Go back after ten years, no husband, no date. Way to make an impression. I think I’d rather go to the beach.”

When he didn’t respond, she hesitated, then asked, “Are you still there?”

“I’m here, Con. So are the firefighters. I have to show them where you are.”

“Wait! Please don’t hang up.”

“I’m not. Just stay with me. Give me a sec.”

She could hear the murmur of conversation and strained to make out some of it, but couldn’t.

“What’s happening? Hello?”

“I’m here. There’s been a partial collapse. They’re going to move some debris before they can get to the door to free you.”

She leaned against the wall behind her and closed her eyes, not that doing so changed one iota of her view. “It’s so dark in here,” she whispered.

“We’ll have you out and in the sunshine soon, Con. Just stay with me.”

Con. Strange to think this man could truncate her name in a way that reminded her of high school. She’d even answered to the nickname until she went away to college, where she decided a grown-up moniker was more appropriate.

“What’s your name?”

He answered after a brief pause. “Jared.”

“You have a soothing voice, Jared.”

“Thanks.”

The sounds being made on the other side of the elevator doors were also soothing. Help was here. She wasn’t alone.

She smiled. “I knew a Jared once.”

“Yeah? Is that your boyfriend stuck in the snow?”

“No. He’s not my boyfriend. I mean, he is a guy and a friend, but he’s really just my hairdresser.”

“Hairdresser?”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “The Jared I knew, though… He and I went to the same school.”

“Ah. You think you’ll see him at the reunion?”

“Unlikely. He graduated a year before me.” Hmm, I wonder what he’s doing now.

A loud grating sound interrupted their chat, startling her from her reverie. “What’s that?”

“Do me a favor, Con. You need to move to the back wall of the elevator. Okay? They’re breaching the door. It’s been damaged.”

She huddled in a back corner as the men outside worked to pry open the doors. It took several more minutes, but Jared stayed on the phone with her throughout the whole ordeal. When the fire fighters finally made it in, two of them, dressed in complete fire fighter uniforms, helped her limp out of the elevator and through the rubble.

“Hey,” Jared said, his voice sounding in person as well as through the phone.

She looked up and smiled, then blinked and studied his face. He grinned and hung up his phone.

Oh my God! “Jared? Jared Majors.”

“Constance Meriwether,” he said with a grin. “It’s been a long time.”

Heat warmed her cheeks as she realized she’d spoken of him…to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged, that adorable smile she remembered from so long ago curling his lips. “You had enough on your mind.”

“Miss?” a fire fighter said, gesturing for them to continue outside. “The ambulance is outside.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

Jared gently took her by the arm. “Come on, Con.”

She let him lead her out to the ambulance, where she sat on a gurney. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

“Just let the EMTs check you out.”

The diagnosis was a bruised hip and elbow and a bump on the noggin, but no concussion or broken bones. No need to transport.

“See?” Jared asked as she slid off the gurney and waved bye to the EMTs. “All’s well that ends well. And now you’ve plenty of time to make it to your reunion.”

“I don’t think I’m going to go.”

He looked into her eyes. “But then who’s gonna be my date?”

“Wha…what? I-I don’t, umm…”

“Why don’t we discuss it over dinner tonight?” He took her hand.

Staring into his deep blue gaze, she smiled. “I’d like that.”

The End

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Thank you again to Seriously Reviewed for hosting us this past week.

I hope you all enjoyed our little vignette, and please join us at www.LayleKeaton.com



Signing off,

~ Madison Layle

~ Anna Leigh Keaton

Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle

Hi! The finale to our short story will be posted tomorrow. Today, I’ve stolen the microphone…er…keyboard away from Anna Leigh, because I want to share with you all some snippets from what I consider a series within a series. If you’re wondering what that means, well, let me explain. You see, a while back, Anna Leigh wrote a short story of erotica called The Cop in which she introduced me and the world to a special little “dating service” called The Pleasure Club or TPC for short.


Now this fictional club works something like this: Members can join the club, and after doing all of the legal stuff (pay dues, fill out forms, pass background check, etc…) they can then participate in Pleasure Nights whereby the club’s administrators (known as Pleasure Guardians) pair up two or more members based on common desires and shared fantasies. It’s sort of like a blend of Fantasy Island and those online matchmaking sites; only this club is not about finding a permanent relationship but rather the perfect pairing for a night of exciting, and often kinky, thrills.

If you enjoy steamy stories with hot, sexy characters that can make you sigh with pleasure, then you’ve found the right club! TPC members want to experience their sensual fantasies with no strings attached. They want to, if only for one night, be something or someone else: cops, robbers, Doms, subs, angels or demons. Just about anything goes. And as readers, you’re invited along to share in the fun! *grin*

While The Pleasure Club began with that first story, The Cop, it’s blossomed into a multi-authored erotica series at Cobblestone Press, sponsored by the original creator, Anna Leigh Keaton. I joined my fellow TPC authors with my first erotica vignette called The Dungeon Masters, which introduces a pair of strong and handsome Doms, Masters Jared and Lance. Together, the men are more than ready to test a willing submissive’s sexual limits in the dungeon of a castle one tempestuous night.

I loved Jared and Lance so much that I had to revisit them for a second time as they took the lead on another Pleasure Night. Only this time, they took to the high seas for a bit of piracy, voyeurism, and even more erotic domination in my second TPC book called The Pirate Masters. And now I’m currently working on a third book that will turn their adventures into a trilogy of sorts within The Pleasure Club series…a mini-series within a series! *grin*

Here’s a brief taste from the beginning of The Dungeon Masters:



Welcome to the Pleasure Club



Dear Ms. Simons,

We’re pleased to welcome you to The Pleasure Club.

As you have already signed and returned the contract and filled out all the necessary forms to ensure you receive your every wish, we will be in touch with you shortly with the details of your first Pleasure Night. Your Wish List and Pleasure Forms have been turned over to our staff of highly trained Pleasure Guardians, and they are hard at work finding your perfect match.

We will endeavor to meet your personal fantasy.

When you are contacted again, you will be given a location where your Pleasure Night will begin, and you will also be given a safe word to use should you at any time become uncomfortable. There is no shame in changing your mind. We’re here for your pleasure, and should your safe word be used, your match for the evening will cease all activity, and the game will be put on hold until a mutual agreement between you and your Pleasure Master can be reached.

Once again, welcome to The Pleasure Club.

Please feel free to contact the office at any time should you have any questions.



Yours truly,

The Pleasure Club Management



* * * * *

Ms. Simons,

Your Pleasure Night will begin Friday the 27th, 8:00 PM in the dungeon of Montebello Castle Winery, located at 1800 Mangrove Lane.

Your safe word is Control.

Sincerely,

The Pleasure Guardians

* * * * *

A dungeon?

With a worried frown, Natalie Simons squinted through the downpour that blasted her windshield and waged a ruthless war against her wipers, which were set to the fastest speed possible. Through the darkness and rain, she could just make out the outline of an imposing stone façade from where she sat in her parked car with its engine still running and headlights on high beam.

A real dungeon?

She couldn’t believe a place like this even existed in the States, but that castle was too large to be a hallucination. She remembered filling out the questionnaire about her fantasies and using terms like slave and dungeon, but that was because she’d run across those words on BDSM Web sites. She’d never actually been in a pleasure dungeon, much less a real one inside a life-sized castle.

A loud crack of thunder shook her car and startled a scream from her.

Had she made a mistake already? Was she in over her head? She nibbled on her bottom lip while she thought through her decision to join The Pleasure Club. It was supposed to be like that fictional Fantasy Island, only modernized for the online dating and match-making scene—the chance to have her most secret sexual fantasies become reality, for one night. If she was brave enough to go through with it.

Are those gargoyles up there?

Another bright bolt lit up the evening sky a split second before a thunderous boom shook the windows of her hatchback.

The butterflies in her gut swarmed in protest of the very idea of getting out of the car and approaching that mammoth stone structure.

From the semi-secure confines of her trusty jalopy, she dug through her purse for the last letter she received from the Pleasure Guardians and checked the address again.

She was in the right place and, judging from the vines she’d driven past to get this far, it was a winery. A well-maintained one, she told herself even as her mind played tricks on her from the dry shelter of her car’s interior.

The thunderstorm, with its smoky clouds, flashy electric bolts, and rumbling roars, caused her to envision every B-rated horror flick ever made—in particular, the ones with vines that come alive to drag hapless victims toward their doom.

Nerves made her jittery as she put away the crumpled letter and recited her safe word over and over in her mind. Control. They’d chosen the perfect word for her. This was her way of taking control of her life…experiencing her fantasies in a safe manner. On her terms.

Dark nights and a bit of lightning wouldn’t stop her from that goal. What kind of a wuss would she be if she never even got out of the car and met the man she came here to meet? She peered through the storm at the waving trees just as another thunderclap struck, which made her tremble, close her eyes, and take deep breaths.

It’s just a storm. I’m a big girl. I can do this.

She’d had submissive fantasies all her adult life, but reality never proved to be as erotic or stimulating as her dreams. She’d married too young and divorced a short time later after she’d wised up.

Her boyfriend-turned-ex-husband would never grow up enough to become the caring, take-charge man she needed him to be. He was too busy with his drinking buddies and all-night parties—part of their formerly single lives—to devote much time to building a relationship with her, much less a long-lasting marriage.

Beyond that, she discovered they had little in common. And her naïve dreams of a happily-ever-after ended pretty damn fast when she awoke to an aggravated husband suffering from morning-after hangovers.

Their lovemaking had dwindled from new and forbidden to infrequent and mundane. Any suggestions of experimentation fell on deaf ears. And all the while, her imagination and body longed for untamed spontaneity, forced orgasms, and domination.

Once the newness wore off, the marriage became a farce. But even after the divorce, when she was free to engage in any fetish she desired, she’d been too fearful of picking up strangers at bars. Dating didn’t exactly hold any appeal because she wasn’t interested in permanent relationships.

Maybe later, but not yet. Not until she’d experienced more of life.

At least TPC provided assurances that all Pleasure Masters were screened, just as she had been. And the questionnaire enabled them to pair her with those of similar fantasies. She didn’t have to waste time searching for a compatible date. She just hoped he was more experienced in BDSM than she was.

A glance at her car’s clock told her it was time—one minute past to be exact. She eyed her umbrella and the distance to the front door, not really looking forward to running in heels, but she couldn’t delay any longer. The rain wasn’t going to let up as she’d hoped it would.

Why couldn’t tonight be an evening of romantic sunsets and clear skies? Instead of a night better suited to Dracula and Frankenstein. She scowled at the angry black clouds as she turned off the wipers, headlights, and engine.

The lightning transformed the castle, which was probably spectacular in the rays of daylight, into a very ominous place.

“As if I don’t have enough things to make me a nervous wreck.”

She took another deep breath.

Focus on the man, not the building, and you can do this. He’s a Pleasure Master, emphasis on pleasure!

“And I’m making him wait. Not good on a first date,” she said with a snicker. “Okay. Let’s do this.” She snatched up her purse, yanked the door handle, and shoved out into the rain before she lost her nerve. The raindrops whipped her into a run, and she barely noticed the crunch of gravel along the walk during her mad dash that ended with her hands slamming into the stone doorframe.

She huddled under the eaves out of the downpour that fell like a waterfall just a few feet away. A giggle bubbled up from the exhilaration of the run, but it died as she swiped the water from her face and eyed the massive front door, which was left slightly ajar. Her next breath was more of a shuddery gasp.

“Hello?” She pushed and discovered that it took a bit of effort to move the heavy wooden door. “Is anyone here?”

Lightning flashed like strobe lights behind her, which illuminated the interior even more than the candles that flickered from various iron sconces along the wall. Hesitantly, she stepped inside. The clicks of her heels and their slight echo sent goose bumps across her skin.

Aside from the thunder and constant beat of raindrops, silence met her.

“Hello?” Her voice echoed off the walls. “Okay…” This wasn’t exactly the kind of reception she’d expected.

More tapers burned on an elegant mahogany table situated in the center of an impressive and somewhat eerie foyer of dark marble floors and slate colored walls. The staircase beyond it was a masterpiece of elegant ironwork and detailed carvings. At least the place wasn’t filled with spider webs or bats. She glanced up at the lofty ceiling to be sure and discovered an impressive crystal chandelier that glittered in the candlelight.

Any other day she might’ve enjoyed a tour of the castle. Standing alone, dripping all over the marble floor on a dark and spooky night, she fisted the TPC letter inside her purse and considered high-tailing it back to the familiarity of her car. Shadows danced around the room to the beat of the flickering candlelight.

Then she noticed the signage propped up on the table beside a crystal vase full of fresh cut red roses and baby’s breath. The scripted letters TPC were prominently displayed along with her name scrawled in black ink with a masculine flare.

She glanced around as she made her way to the table, leaving the door ajar despite the raging storm outside. The hint of roses filled the air with a pleasant fragrance, but it did little to calm her nerves. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she listened carefully for the first indication that the door moved.

One creak and I’m out of here.

Reaching for the note, she spotted a small audio device next to it. She held her breath and flipped the note open.

Push play.

The brief instruction was written in the same heavy scrawl as her name. Her finger hovered over the audio player’s button. The note and audio device were tangible.

No more daydreaming in the comfort of her home or private fantasies enacted under the covers of her empty bed. No more pretending in the shower. This was for real.

Would the reality live up to what her mind envisioned? The idea of being dominated thrilled her, but would she be able to face it? She stood motionless while she wavered over whether she could go through with her plan.

Her fantasies had brought her here, but now that she was here…

She balled her hand into a fist, her short nails biting into her palm.

I’ve wanted this for a long time. I can do this. I can.

Chicken, taunted that little chastising voice inside her head.

She frowned and pressed Play.

“Welcome, Natalie.”

She blinked and smiled. Mmm, sexy voice.

“If you are listening to this tape, then you should know I am pleased by your bravery in having come this far.”

Her smile became a cheeky grin.

“But there is much more for you to do to prove yourself and earn the privilege of becoming a truly submissive slave. Are you bold enough to obey, despite the nerves and fear, the second thoughts, and the unknown?”

You can read more excerpts from stories in The Pleasure Club series by visiting: www.cobblestone-press.com/catalog/line/pleasureclub.htm. And check out my other solo or co-authored works at my Web site: http://www.madisonlayle.com/ 

Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle

Part II


When the world stopped shaking, Constance found herself huddled in the corner of the elevator, arms over her head, and “Oh, God, please don’t let me die!” on her lips.

The elevator—she tried not to think of it as her coffin—was pitch-black except for the faint, flashing red emergency light up in the corner that did nothing to light the space.

Her heart thudded in her ears. Little stars danced in front of her eyes because of the adrenaline causing her blood pressure to skyrocket.

She told herself she was okay. The elevator hadn’t fallen. She was alive. Standing up, she felt her way across the space to the button panel and pushed them. Nothing happened. What she thought was the Door Open button didn’t do anything. Nothing even dinged. The thing always dinged.

“Hello!” she called, and heard the panic in her tone. She clenched her teeth and called again. “I’m stuck in the elevator. Is anyone out there?”

She didn’t know what floor she was on—or near. She hadn’t been paying attention to the numbers over the door. She banged on the door. “Hey! Help! I’m in the elevator!”

Panting, she pressed her heated cheek against the cool metal door and tried to catch her breath. “Please,” she whispered.

The phone. Duh. Below the buttons was a little door that said, In case of emergency…

She felt around the smooth panel until she touched the little latch. It took her a moment of fumbling—perhaps she should pay more attention to things like this before an actual emergency happens. She couldn’t remember the last time she listened to the flight attendant on a plane when they gave their little speech before takeoff. Dear God, she prayed. Let me take another flight someday. I’ll pay attention from now on.

The little door popped open, and she fumbled for the phone. A jolt of relief so strong went through her, she landed on her knees on the floor as she raised the receiver to her ear.

It was an odd sounding ring, more of a buzz, buzz, buzz, but it seemed to go unanswered forever. Finally, she heard, “Hello?” And she recognized the voice as the building’s security officer, Paul Daniels.

“Paul! This is Constance Meriwether. I’m stuck in the elevater. Please, get me out!”

“Calm down, Constance. We’ve lost all power and—“ His voice was muffled all of a sudden, but she thought she heard him tell someone to get them out as fast as possible.

“Paul!” she shouted. “What’s going on? Is the—“

“It’s all right, Constance. Everything’s under control…”

No it wasn’t. She could hear it in his voice. Visions popped into her head of that horrible day. Of collapsing buildings. Of people trapped. Tears stung her eyes, and her breathing grew shallow.

“I’ve got to put you on hold, Constance,” Paul said, “so I can call the fire department to get you out.”

“No, no. No! Don’t hang up on me—“

“Panicked woman stuck in the elevator.”

Constance made a face. I’m not panicked! “Paul, please just—” The phone clicked, and the silence was deafening.

* * * * *

“What’s up?” Jared Majors said as he was ushering a couple elderly women through the lobby when he saw the security guard on the phone.

“Panicked woman stuck in the elevator.”

“Right through there,” Jared directed the women, then turned back to the guard. “She hurt?”

The guard shook his head and hit the Hold button on the phone. “Just panicked. I have to call the fire department, but I bet it’ll be a while. That was one hell of a quake.

From somewhere in the building, Jared heard a groaning sound over the raised voices of panicked employees pouring out of the stairwells. Not good. So not good. He took the phone from the guard. “You call. I’ll see if I can calm her down.”

The guard scowled and tried to take the phone back from him.

Jared turned to keep the phone out of reach. “I’m an off-duty 9-1-1 operator. I’m good at handling panic. Now call the fire department to get her out of there.” He glanced up as another strange, metallic scraping sound echoed through the marble lobby. “Before this bitch collapses,” he muttered.

“Ma’am?” he said after he hit the Hold button on the red phone on the guard’s counter. A phone that had ten lines—luckily no other lines were lit up—and was a direct line from every emergency phone in the building.

“Where’s Paul?” the woman all but screeched into the phone. “Are you here to get me out of this elevator?”

“Ma’am, I’m going to talk to you while the security guard gets the fire department on the phone. Everything’ll be fine.”

“Did you hear that noise? What was that noise? Did you hear it?”

“I heard it, ma’am. It’s just the building settling after the little tremor we had.”

Silence.

“Ma’am?”

“I wish I was in Chicago in a snow storm right now.”

That comment pulled a chuckle from Jared. “And give up the sunshine and beaches of California?”

“I haven’t had time to go to a beach in forever,” she said softly, then sighed.

“What’s your name?”

“Constance. Uh…Connie.” Her voice trembled. “I’m scared. I-I’m claustrophobic.”

“Help is on the way, Connie. Just keeping talking to me. We’ll have you out of there in plenty of time to head for the beach this weekend if you like.”

The building jarred as if it had been hit by a massive, invisible fist. Connie screamed. The phone went dead.

“Son of a bitch!” the guard next to him shouted. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here!”

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

To Be Continued… Look for Part III, the finale, day after tomorrow.

In the meantime, you can read excerpts and more about any of our 40+ books on our Web site at: www.LayleKeaton.com, as well as a few free reads that are multi-authored anthologies.

Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle

Today I (Anna Leigh) am going to hog the limelight here all to myself. *shoving Madi out of the way*


I love writing series. Why? Well, usually because while writing one book, I introduce a minor character who I fall in love with in some way and just have to tell their story. And I love reading them, too, so I want to give my readers what they want, provided they want what I want. *wink*

I have a number of series at Cobblestone Press. There’s the co-written series of Once Upon a Time and Incognito with Madi, and there’s a multi-author series called The Pleasure Club, which Madi will tell you about in a couple of days. Then I have my special projects. The series I come back to when I need to revisit my best friends. There’s the Serve and Protect series, and Inferno.

Serve and Protect is up to seven books now, with plans for another one before the year is over. My latest in that series is Dangerous Intentions.

Doctor Shelly Newman lives a quiet life in Cooper Valley as the only physical therapist in town. Her safe little world takes a turn, though, when she realizes the sweet notes being left for her are from a stalker.

The bright spots in her week, and also her most frustrating, are when she works with retired Master Sergeant Pete Dexler. He’s rude, he’s stubborn, but he has a softer, vulnerable side that attracts her. And he’s the only one she can turn to when her world crumbles around her and the stalker starts moving in for the kill.

In Serve and Protect, the heroes are all real-life heroes. Firefighters, police, paramedics. But Dangerous Intentions is special, I think. Pete Dexler is an injured Marine who really touched my heart.

You can find an excerpt at: http://www.cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/dangerousintentions.htm

The Inferno series is something altogether different from Serve and Protect! Inferno is a fetish club where members meet to carry out their deepest, darkest fantasies. Within the series there are ménage, both male/female/male and male/male/female. There is one group of four, trainers and trainees teaching and learning the art of BDSM. And the last (so far) in the series titled The Game is a hot, sexy, dirty male/male that is sure to get any fan of the genre panting. Each book in the Inferno series is a true romance with a guaranteed happily ever after, for those die-hard romance readers.

Nick is ready for some fun and searches Inferno for just the right man to spend the evening with. He spots the gorgeous black man as he walks to the bar and sets his sights. His name is Leon, known as The Black Devil, and he’s everything Nick needs.

The sex is more than he ever imagined it could be, and The Black Devil lives up to his name. The best part, though, is that when the game is over, Nick gets to take him home. Inferno is their refuge, and with each game they play, it only gets better.

Excerpt available at: http://www.cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/thegame.htm

You can check out my backlist at http://www.annaleighkeaton.com/

Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle

Today, Anna Leigh and I have decided to do something a little different for you all at Seriously Reviewed. Rather than share excerpts from any of our existing books, we’re going to begin writing a short story right here, just for you. We’re shooting for three chapters, one posted every other day, starting right now. Enjoy!



Chapter One

“Con! Wait!”

Constance Meriwether slowed and turned with a frown to see her administrative assistant rushing toward her. After the long, rough day she’d had, she really wasn’t in the mood to be lassoed into some after-hours work. And she sure didn’t have the patience or will for a post-work chat session at the local coffee shop she and Barb shared a couple times a week.

“Connie, I’m glad I caught you. Luke called just a little while ago, while you were in the meeting.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll call him back. Thanks.” She usually stopped to check for any last minute messages, but with the day she’d had, her mind was on other things. It was good to know he called, but she was going to see him tomorrow.

“Here.” The receptionist handed her a pink sticky note. “He said it was important that you get it.”

“Thanks.” As Beth walked away, Connie looked down and read the message written in a smooth cursive hand.

Can’t make it back by tomorrow. Snowed in. So sorry.

Damn it! She should’ve known something like this would happen. Knew it the moment he’d mentioned that convention halfway across the country. He swore he’d be back in plenty of time. Luke was supposed to go as her date to her high school reunion. They were good friends—just friends—but more importantly, he was her hairdresser.

He just had to go to that convention in Chicago in the dead of winter. Why couldn’t he have stayed in sunny California where the weather was mild and beautiful this time of year?

Snowed in, she read again and crumpled the paper, tossing it in a nearby trashcan. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” she muttered. Why did Mother Nature hate her so much?

She poked the elevator button. Normally she used the stairs to the parking garage for exercise, but with the day she’d had, she’d probably break a heel and tumble down the stairs. A way too cheerful ding sounded before the doors slid open, and she walked in. She punched the button for the parking garage and leaned against the back wall, trying to calm her thoughts. Things weren’t so bad. She’d just skip the reunion. No big loss.

Her thoughts scattered though when the world began to shake, the elevator came to a jarring stop, and the lights went out.

Earthquake!

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

To Be Continued… Look for Part II day after tomorrow.

In the meantime, you can read excerpts and more about any of our 40+ books on our Web site at: www.LayleKeaton.com, as well as a few free reads that are multi-authored anthologies.

Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle

Hello again!


Today Madi and I would like to invite you into the world of Everland and our series Once Upon a Time.

Once Upon a Time is a series based on traditional fairy tales. But these aren’t your children’s bedtime stories! With a sexy, sometimes kinky, always heartwarming twist, we’ve reinvented Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, and Snow White. So far we’ve published three in the series at Cobblestone Press. Midnight Hour, Midnight Moon, and Midnight Mine. Midnight Deal will be coming this summer at Cobblestone Press.

http://www.cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/madisonlayle&annaleighkeaton.htm

Midnight Hour (Cinderella)

Cindy cares for her stepmother and sisters because she’s the oldest daughter, but they can’t understand why she’s determined to hide at home away from the snickers of gossipy townsfolk.

As Everland’s most eligible bachelor, Maxwell has been able to dodge the marital bullet. He needs a special kind of woman—one who doesn’t fear his darker, dominant sexual needs—one he can trust with his heart.

The mysterious beauty who appears at his father’s annual masquerade fulfills him like no other. When she disappears at midnight, he vows to find her, bind her, and never let her go again.

Midnight Moon (Beauty and the Beast)

Jacqueline Beaumont disappeared ages ago, cursed into a lonely existence of moonlit shadows and eternal heartache. Her only sanctuary has been her dilapidated ancestral home, but a new owner threatens to change that.

Thomas Princeton returns home to renovate the Beaumont plantation, its halls haunted by a mysterious beauty and its lands claimed by a precocious, black-haired beast.

He must collar the beast and gain the beauty's trust to win her heart and find true love, but the beauty and the beast share a secret, and she’s determined to run him off…if only he weren’t so incredibly sexy.

Midnight Mine (Snow White)

Sylvia White is ready for a change. Growing up as the only girl in a motherless family of seven boys, she filled the role of keeper of the home. Now, in her twenties, she wants more for herself, but how is she to step beyond the overbearing men in her world and make a life for herself?

Richard Princeton has returned to Everland to run the family mine and atone for the ill will he’d held against his parents for so many years. But bad things happen when he meets the woman of his heart and his mother doesn’t approve.



Excerpt of Midnight Hour:

Marie Laveau didn’t look up at first when she heard the jingle of the bell on the door, but then she remembered what day it was.

Business had trickled to zilch earlier in the day because of that damn masquerade ball.

Everyone, except her, was expected to attend. She hadn’t set foot back on the Princeton estate in decades, not since that fateful night…. And she wouldn’t go back, not even if the patriarch hand delivered a gilded invitation on bended knee.

The sound of footsteps slowly meandered down the aisles.

Who could that be at this hour?

She should’ve told Rupert to turn the sign in the door to Closed after he finished sweeping up. Where was that no-account nephew of hers? The least he could do was be here to deal with whoever was here so she wasn’t interrupted in the middle of a very important task.

Grumbling to herself, she set a glass bottle and measuring spoon aside. She had to get the ingredients right, or her latest elixir wouldn’t have the potency needed to accomplish her special client’s needs.

A glance around for her nephew revealed the identity of Laveau’s latest customer.

Marie didn’t know whether to be elated or not.

Cindy was an enigma. The kindly daughter of a no-good, double-crossing merchant…

How dare he not pay after—

She gritted her teeth against the memory that was as fresh and bitter to her as the day she’d first laid eyes on the wealthy widower’s sickly little girl, now a spinster who was browsing a display of all-natural, herbal remedies for joint pain. For herself or someone else?

Marie dismissed the passing question from her thoughts as her temper simmered over past wrongs. What did it matter who suffered such aches; they were nothing compared to the debt that family owed her.

She straightened the wrinkles out of her billowy garment and pasted on a smile for the child—well, not a child, although everyone was infantile to someone who’d been on the planet as long as Marie had. Though she’d lost her youthful beauty long ago, her strength and longevity lay in the dark magic that was her passion and the foundation of her livelihood, albeit hidden behind the more respectable façade of an herbal shop.

Cindy limped around the corner, looked up at Marie’s approach, and smiled with a genuine, good-to-see-you gleam.

Marie’s smile felt frozen to her skull, until she gave into the urge to glance down at the girl’s odd-looking shoes.

It’s a shame I can’t take credit for such successes! And to think the incantation she’d uttered so long ago was still in effect and as strong as ever.

“Cindy, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you by my establishment on this snowy evening?”

“I’m here to pick up some more medicated lotion for Mom.”

The old bat that was the girl’s stepmother was a harmless simpleton who was more of a burden to the family than an asset.

“Top shelf to your right, dear,” Marie said helpfully. At least the girl’s continued business made up for some of the riches her father had failed to deliver.

When Cindy turned away, Marie let her gaze settle on the girl’s feet, and she smiled. The girl’s father had been right when he’d accused Marie of causing the changes in his daughter’s leg that ended her dreams of dancing. Such a simple little spell. Payback for short-changing me. She’d denied it of course, and reveled in the agony on the man’s face as he realized there were some things his precious money couldn’t buy.

She’d wanted to curse the man himself after he’d lashed out at her over the loss of his wife. Marie had tried to save the woman’s life and had saved the baby—the very girl who now stood before her—but had the man thanked her? No. He’d offered her any price to brave that bad storm and act as midwife to his ailing, expectant wife. She’d done her best, but her magic hadn’t been strong enough to prevent fate that night.

She’d vowed to make him pay after she’d found herself hustled from the Tudor-style house. And she had, in a manner of speaking, though it had taken a while to discover the right spell and get close enough to the child for it to work. She still remembered the day she’d happened upon the girl picking flowers along the path to market.

“I’ll take the larger jar.” Cindy held out her choice to Marie with a smile.

The curse hadn’t altered the girl’s demeanor, though Marie had believed it would make the child at least a little bitter. That it hadn’t surprised her.

“Why are you not getting ready to go to the ball?” Marie asked as she headed behind the counter with the jar to ring up the purchase. “You caught me about to close up since everyone in town is going.”

When the young woman’s gaze refused to meet her own, Marie suspected she’d needled the right wound.

“My sisters will represent the family at the event tonight. I’m needed at home.”

Unwilling to let it go, Marie became blunt. “No need to fib, dear. I understand.”

Cindy’s gaze shot to hers, and Marie wanted to smirk. “Fib? But I—”

“Such a fancy ball it will be, all the music and dancing, and you would feel uncomfortable, of course, with your condition.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Oh, I admire you, Cindy,” Marie hurried to say. “You’ve made the best of what you were given, never complaining, but you need not sugarcoat the truth when I can see it bothers you at times like this. We’re all human after all. It’s perfectly understandable to want what we don’t have. But what if I said I could help you go to that ball…just one night…where you could be bold and brazen if you wanted to be, your identity hidden behind a masquerade mask?”

Cindy smiled and shook her head. “I won’t deny that I’ve dreamed of going to lavish events or… No. A mask won’t hide my lame foot or give me the grace of a dancer. I think it’s best I let my sisters—”

“No, the mask won’t, but a magical pair of slippers would do the trick. For the right price, of course. I wouldn’t offend you by offering charity.”

“Slippers?”

Marie smiled. “The magic wouldn’t be permanent,” she warned. No, Marie didn’t want to permanently remove the spell that handicapped the girl. “And you’d have to remove the shoes before the final stroke of midnight or risk serious damage to your feet.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m saying that I could lease to you, for one night, a pair of magical slippers that would transform your malformed limb to match the other—just until midnight—and give you this one night of freedom to do whatever you want. Run. Dance. Experience life as you never have but always wanted to. What do you think?”


Once again, I invite you to http://www.laylekeaton.com/  to get to know us better, read more excerpts, join our contests, and take our polls.

Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle

Hello!


We’d like to thank Seriously Reviewed for hosting us this week. When I say “us” I mean myself (Anna Leigh Keaton) and my co-author, Madison Layle. We’re going to introduce you to a couple of our co-authored books, a couple of our solo works, and in between we’ll give you something fun…a three-part short story we wrote together.

So I’d like to start off with Puma Nights: Falke’s Peak. Our first Carina Press publication is book #1 in a 3 or 4 book series (We’re still working on it!) and we’re very excited about the book itself, and the series as a whole.

In the quaint Bavarian-style village of Leavenworth, Washington lives the Falke family. Six brothers, one sister, and two dads. Yes, that’s right, two dads because, you see, catamount shape shifter males must mate in pairs—if they mate with a human woman.

Axel Falke, the oldest of the brothers (by only a few minutes, since he’s one of a set of quads) is the alpha of the family, and the owner of Catamount Outfitters. He and his brothers sell sporting goods and hire themselves out as guides.

Gunnar, the second born son, will one day share Axel’s mate. He works for Axel, as does the rest of the brothers, but Gunnar and Axel have a special bond formed from birth.

These two brothers are the heroes in Falke’s Peak, book one in the Puma Nights series. Their heroine, Dakota, is a feisty big-city woman who knows what she wants, but gets much more than she bargains for with the two sexy Falke brothers who steal her heart. Oh yeah, and they turn into big purring cougars, too!

Falke’s Peak is available at CarinaPress.com, BarnesAndNobles.com, and Amazon.com

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

Stressed out ad-exec Dakota wandered into Catamount Outfitters in search of a guide for a wilderness excursion. She didn’t expect to be greeted by not one, but five of the most ruggedly delicious looking men she’d ever seen. Not to mention a live cougar guarding the shop.

The Falke brothers have more than just good looks in their genes.

Eldest brother Axel agrees to guide Dakota on her mountain trek. In cougar form, Axel’s twin, Gunnar, was there as a protection from predators – but he had his eye on the sexy client instead.

Into the wild…

While the rule with clients was “paws-off”, both Axel and Gunnar couldn’t resist Dakota’s seductive Native American beauty and determination. As cold days lead to hot nights in the cabin, Axel and Gunnar wondered if they finally found a woman strong enough to tame them….

Excerpt:

Dakota couldn’t wait to get started up the mountain and looked forward to seeing the cabin. The way Axel described it, she pictured a utopian setting like those in Thomas Kinkade’s winter paintings.


A raspy purr had her turning in her seat. The mountain lion sprawled across the whole back seat.


“Oh! Hi there… Nice kitty.” She tried not to be obvious as she leaned against the door, praying they’d fed it already. It was so big and still made her nervous, especially in the tight confines of the vehicle.


Kelan chuckled again. “Falke, why don’t you quit scaring the lady and say hi?”


Meow.


She blinked. “They can meow?”


Kelan grinned. “Pumas are closer to cheetahs than African lions or the tiger. They can’t roar. They purr and meow, hiss, yowl and growl, a lot like a house cat. Just depends on their mood and the circumstances.”


“Oh. So, as long as it’s purring, everything is all right?”


“Yeah, purring’s good.”


“Gotcha.”


The hatch closed and the back side door opened. “Move, you big galloot.” Axel shoved at the cat’s butt, which it lethargically moved out of the man’s way as it sat up. Once Axel was in and his door shut, Kelan put the Jeep in gear and pulled out. Dakota glanced out the window to wave at Carrie who stood there shivering with a huge grin on her face.


#


Dakota zipped her down jacket up high and stood with hands in pockets as she watched the Jeep drive back down the slope until it disappeared behind the evergreens around a curve in the road.


The sky was just starting to lighten from black to navy, with a million stars dotting it. As deep into the forest as they were, though, all she could see was a strip of sky right above them. Still, it was a spectacular view, enhanced by a lack of citywide illumination.


Axel held a flashlight in one hand while he checked through the packs one last time. Before Kelan took away the vehicle, Axel had her sprawl out in the back seat of the warm truck and put on a lightweight pair of ski pants and a pair of insulated wool socks, all of which he supplied as part of the “package.” Now, with her hiking boots laced up, she was toasty warm.


Falke sat on his haunches next to her, staring. She tried not to let his penetrating feline gaze unnerve her, but it did. She didn’t have much experience with animals, other than the dog her parents owned when she was little—which had been a sweet little rat terrier that had been old when Dakota was a baby. She’d heard stories though, read newspaper articles about mountain lions coming into cities and eating house pets, attacking small children. One fast move and Falke might mistake her for breakfast.


The cat purred.


All was well if they purred, Kelan had told her. But that purr could stop in an instant. She’d rather not take any chances. “Nice kitty,” she whispered as she stepped sideways, slowly moving toward Axel and away from the monstrous cat.


“Okay,” Axel said, standing up straight. “It’s all here. Ready to head out?”


She nodded, excitement coming back full force.


Axel handed her a pair of thick gloves. “Put these on and stretch your legs good. Backs of your thighs and calves especially.”


As she took the gloves, she gave him a quizzical look.


“Have you ever snowshoed?”


“Ah, no.”


Axel grinned then turned and picked up one of two pairs of snowshoes off the ground. “This should be interesting.”


Dakota ignored the remark and started her stretches. She was in pretty good physical condition, she figured. She tried to hit the gym a couple times a week. How hard could this be? She hiked Mt. Charleston west of Vegas in the spring and fall when she got a chance.


She did the warm-up stretches she normally did before starting her weight training workouts. Back, arms, thighs, calves.


Then Axel was there, right in front of her, and she got a whiff of something wonderful. Him. The cold morning air blended with a masculine scent and made her suck in her breath. Damn. He didn’t seem to notice her reaction as he set the snowshoes on the ground in front of her, lined up, and then said, “Step on. I’ll strap you in.”


Dakota placed her feet where he directed, and he tightened the straps to fit snugly over and around her boots. Then, as if as an afterthought, he raised the pant leg of her ski pants and checked her boot laces.


“Very good. You’ve hiked before I see.”


She laughed. “I might be a city girl, but I do leave the house once in a while.”


He stood up laughing. “And I’ve been put in my place. Let’s see you walk now.”


She went to take a step with the snowshoe. It wasn’t heavy, but the strange…bigness…of the thing had her lifting her foot higher than normal, which put her off balance, and she started tipping. She tried to pull herself back the other way, but overcompensated. Waving her arms, she tried to save her balance and dignity. It was futile. She was going down.


She prepared for the impact of her ass on the ground, but it didn’t come. Instead, she hit something soft that gave a little grunt.


Meow.


“Oh, God.” Dakota scrambled as best she could to get off the cat, but with the snowshoes it was nearly impossible. “Sorry! Sorry.” She couldn’t get on her knees, so she slid along on her butt, glad for the slippery material of the ski pants.


Then big, strong arms were lifting her. “Easy,” Axel said, but the word was laced with amusement, and she had the urge to slug his shoulder. Her face burned with embarrassment, and when she was once again on her feet, she refused to look in his eyes. Instead, she cautiously eyed the big cat, glad to see it didn’t appear ready to attack her. She shuddered to think of how many stories she’d heard of animals snapping because someone stepped on their tail or paw.


“Falke is not going to hurt you, Dakota,” Axel said, his warm breath brushing her cheek, which made her scalp tingle.


For a moment, she forgot about the cat and wanted to turn her lips toward his. His nearness warmed her. What would his mouth taste like?


He cleared his throat, shifted to put some space between them, and the intimate moment was gone. “Falke just kept you from bruising your backside. The ground here is frozen and packed pretty solid. He’s here for protection, yours as well as mine.”


She nodded, a bit less jittery and somewhat soothed by his statement.


“Okay, I think we need some snowshoe lessons before we head into the snow with them. Yes?”


She huffed out a frustrated breath and brushed the back of her glove over her face. “Yes.” The sky was getting lighter, and it was easier to see both Axel and the cat. “Sorry.” She looked at Falke, who once again sat on his haunches staring at her with those penetrating eyes. “Sorry.”


He purred, and she would swear, if a cat could smirk, it just did. At her. Probably thinks I’m a moron. She hoped she didn’t hurt the big guy.


You can read more excerpts and get to know Anna & Madi better by visiting http://www.laylekeaton.com/

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