Love on a Harley went to press today. So we should see the anthology shipping next week!
"Bad to the Bone" by Deborah Macgillivray
from LOVE ON A HARLEY
also with novella's from Diane Davis White, Rebecca Andrews, Billie Warren Chai, Patrick Frank
and Debi Farr.
Publisher: HIGHLAND PRESS (2008)
Jocelyn rolled the bright red car to a stop, staring at the open gates. Presumably the realtor had given out the keys so they could inspect the house and grounds. “Greedy gut Carson will have the skin blistered off his ears for that stupid move.” He wasn’t supposed to hand over the keys to anyone without her permission.
She hesitated in putting the car in gear, unsure why. A strange vibration filled the air. A ripple of unease. Not fear precisely. Unable to define what was setting the small hairs on her neck to rise, she released the clutch, pushed on the gas, and rolled through the gates. Maybe it was merely the air charged from the coming storm.
More likely, it was going home for the first time in four years.
In the beginning, she used to come often. Make sure the house was locked up tight, that vandals hadn’t targeted her. Then as she slowly accepted Watch Hill wasn’t really hers in more than name, she stopped coming. It proved too painful. She loved the place. There was something special about the house that was over 170 years old. It wasn’t memories. Life had never been very happy here―a father who couldn’t have cared less that she existed, drank too much; a grandmother too busy lecturing her on what it meant to be a Bouchard than to show warmth or love. An only child, she had often been lonely here, and in that isolation, she had imagined marrying a man who loved her, and one day they would live here and fill Watch Hill with the laughter and love that it deserved.
“Like so many other things in my life, it was nothing but a dream,” she spoke to the woman staring back at her from the rearview mirror.
As the three-story, white house came into view, she searched for the car of the potential buyer. None was in sight. She made the turn in the circular drive, coming to park directly under the portico and then shut off the engine. Her eyes glanced fleetingly around the outer buildings―the playhouse, pool house, five car garage and stables. Giving a shrug, she picked up her purse.
Then she caught sight of the man.
He was sitting sideways on a black motorcycle, his legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. He watched her with a hooded predator’s gaze that set off female alarms. Even from this distance he had a blatant sexuality about him, the type of man that set any sane woman running. The question would be whether she’d be running to him or from him! Pretending to be unperturbed by his still presence, she swung both legs out of the car and started to stand.
“Damn,” she cursed lowly. She was still in the wool, pencil skirt of her business suit. In order to get out, without half crawling from the small British car, she’d have to show a large amount of leg. Well, no way around it. Standing, she straightened her skirt and tried to appear calm. The man on the bike flashed a brief grin, then slowly stood as she started toward him.
“I’m sorry, but you need to leave. This is private property. The house isn’t open for tours.” She tried to sound clipped, business like, hoping he wouldn’t give her any grief over being booted off the property.
Instead of replying, he placed his jacket across the bike’s seat, then held up the key ring from the realtor’s and rattled it in the air. “I have the open sesame.”
Jocelyn pulled up short. That voice. She knew it. Deep, husky, with a hint of Scottish burr, the kind of voice a woman wanted to hear whispering to her in the middle of the night. She just couldn’t place it. Maybe she didn’t want to place it. Some part of her did. Her heart jumped, slamming itself against her ribcage until it felt bruised from the erratic pounding.
Picking up the jacket, he said softly. “You’ve changed, Jocelyn.”
This is the new book video for Love of a Harley. Thanks, once again to Mike Duncan for his "cover" of Driving My Live Away.