The Stories....

A Different Kind of Honesty

The Wild Rose Press
Print and digital
ISBN#: 1-60154-218-6

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*Every penny from the sale of this book will be doubled and contributed to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

Synopsis:

Always the one who ends relationships before they’ve barely begun, it’s way out of character for Maggie Lawless to take a risk with a man she hardly knows. But when she meets a man in a seedy New York City diner, she senses a truth about him, a sincerity like no-one she’s ever met before.

Tony Valentino is an FBI agent fresh from a long-term undercover operation that’s left his life in tatters. His marriage over, separated from his children and with nowhere to call home, he’s frustrated and angry. All that keeps him going is the sweet memory of a brief encounter with a beautiful woman, though it wakes him from crazy dreams that leave his mouth dry and his sheets soaked with sweat. When he meets her again, it’s obvious the fire that burned so briefly between them never really went out...but as their affair rekindles, both Tony and Maggie find the very people they thought they could trust are the first to turn against them.

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Perfect Strangers

a short story from The Wild Rose Press
buy here as digital e-book

Synopsis: 

'Reeling from the stress of a messy divorce and an unhappy Christmas, Anna seizes the opportunity to get away from London and spend a few days in Venice. When a waiter mistakenly assumes a quiet American with tousled hair and eyes darker than hot, sweet espresso is her partner, it seems only right they should spend the day together. Two perfect strangers in a perfect city, Venice works her magic on them both before they have to head back in sadness to their separate lives. It's another year, another Christmas, before they meet again; when they do, they realise that love, like Venice, is 'per sempre...' for ever.'

Opening:

January 3rd, 10:00 a.m.

Nowhere drizzles like Venice in January.

A fine mist that plays make-believe, pretending it’s not really there until it creeps up on freshly blow-dried hair and into the toes of newly polished boots. Sneaky drizzle.

But Anna didn’t care. St. Mark’s Square was everything she’d dreamed it would be. Right now it was hers and hers alone, without a tourist in sight. So many broken promises marked her life, but not this time. She’d kept this one.

Intoxicated by the magnificence surrounding her, she flung out her arms and pirouetted around till she was dizzy, laughing out loud and hugging herself. It was perfect.

A sudden burst of light made her look up to see the sun climbing higher, the clouds beginning to lift. The drizzle had stopped and she loosened her coat, shaking the sparkling drops away. The faint, watery light caught the edge of an unlit string of coloured Christmas lights in the window of a nearby café, illuminating them briefly before resigning them back to grey shadows. An elderly waiter, his long white apron wrapped around black dress trousers, wiped the morning’s rain from the chairs outside. He smiled as Anna sat at a table the size of a button.

“Buon giorna, signora,” he greeted her. “Un caffe?”

“Si, per favore. Grazie.”

“Prego. E, per il signore, lo stesso?”

“But there isn’t a man—” she began, as her confusion tipped her back into English. But the waiter had already turned on a squeaky heel and gone, wringing out his cloth as he went. His glossy patent shoes made a rhythmic click-tack, click-tack on the shiny wet ground.

“Excuse me?”

A voice broke into Anna’s puzzled thoughts, and she swung around to face the man standing behind her. Where had he come from? She could have sworn there had been no one else in the square.

“Oh! You must be the signore he meant!” She gestured toward the café door. “He’s bringing you a coffee. He...ah. He thinks we’re together.”

“Does he?” The man’s eyes widened, as the faintest shadow of amusement flickered across his features. “Well...I wouldn’t say no to one. It’s kinda cold this morning.”

Anna tried not to stare. The word ‘handsome’ had been invented for this guy. Eyes darker than hot, sweet espresso, he wore the collar of his battered leather coat pulled up against the morning’s chill. He rubbed fingers through already tousled hair to shake away the remains of the rain and shrugged as he indicated the chair opposite Anna’s.

“So, um...you think I should?”

Anna thought a moment, trying not to let his soft American accent curl her toes. But between him and the rain, her boots were probably already ruined. She found herself nodding. What was one coffee, anyway?

He sat, picking up a little tube of sugar from the bundle stacked in a cup on the table. The tiny grains made a soft shushing sound against the paper as he tipped it from side to side. Anna wondered if long, slender fingers like his always meant someone artistic or if that was one of those crazy tales she used to believe, when anything was possible and she took the world for granted.

The coffee arrived and he poured the sugar into his cup. Stirring it with the slim silver spoon, he raised his eyes and smiled a corner-of the-mouth smile that captured Anna’s breath and tied it up in a big bow, his for the taking.

“I, er...I loved your dancing,” he said.

“My what? Oh!” She hid her face in her hands and groaned. “I thought I was alone! I was just happy to be here.”

“You that happy all the time?”

Anna lowered her hands and clasped her coffee cup, the warmth and aroma reminding her she was here to unwind. She sighed. “I’m happy to be in Venice. After the Christmas I just had, I needed a break.”

“Right.” He nodded his understanding and looked out over the piazza. “My Christmas wasn’t all that hot either.”

A flock of pigeons, startled by some unseen signal, flapped into the sky in a flurry of feathers, sounding like sheets flapping in the breeze. Anna and her companion watched as the birds circled over St. Mark’s Basilica and swooped down to settle on the four bronze horses stationed high above the entrance.

“Locals,” he grinned, “unimpressed by the architecture. You been inside yet?”

“Not yet. I only got here yesterday.”

“Maybe we could do that later? When it’s open?”

Taken by surprise, Anna parted her lips to speak, but no sound came out. She picked up her spoon and folded chocolate and cinnamon sprinkles into the foamy cappuccino. “To be honest, I hadn’t really thought...”

“No, I guess not. I hadn’t either.” He drained his coffee. “Look, why don’t we see the sights together? Two perfect strangers in a perfect city. Or is that just too crazy?”

Anna stared at him over the rim of her cup.

“Far too crazy,” she said. “But then again - why not?”