Life After Christmas
Life after Christmas!
I don’t know about y’all, but I love Christmas — and I hate cleaning up after the holidays. Really hate it! Still, there’s something about getting everything put away, straightened up, and cleaned that speaks to a healthy start to the new year.
I’ve done the same with my goals and plan for 2018. Thanks to the fabulous Maggie Worth, I created a fresh plan for the year with goals that truly speak to me and support the life I want to live.
How about you? What’s your most important goal for the new year, or are you just winging it? (You pantser, you!)
What's Your Favorite Christmas Story?
I’m running around finishing last minute details for Christmas and working on Assassin’s Mark and Only for the Moment at the same time, so there’s not a lot of time for reading this month. But at night, after all the evening chores are done and I can finally crawl into bed, I take at least a few minutes to read. The problem? I really want to read a sexy Christmas book, and there are none on my TBR.
Help me out, dear readers! Share your favorite Christmas story for bedtime reading—must include sexy times, please! I’ll choose one commenter for a surprise $5 Amazon gift card on Sunday at noon! Head over to my Facebook page for your chance to win!
When Do You Decorate For the Holidays
It's December, and that means all things Christmas! Do you decorate early or are you just getting started? Feel free to share pictures!
Recipe of the Month: Flourless Chocolate Cake
I've talked a bit in my Hump Day Healthy Writer posts about the food allergies I've developed over the last couple of years. The change in my diet is never felt more keenly than at the holidays, when all the traditional family treats I've made for years are now off limits. So what's a girl with gluten, soy, and dairy allergies supposed to do?
I've talked a bit in my Hump Day Healthy Writer posts about the food allergies I've developed over the last couple of years. The change in my diet is never felt more keenly than at the holidays, when all the traditional family treats I've made for years are now off limits. So what's a girl with gluten, soy, and dairy allergies supposed to do? Find new treats, of course!
It takes time, but I'm finding it can be done. And with Christmas just around the corner, I'm even more determined to make new food memories. And who doesn't love chocolate? That's why this month's recipe is:
Just a couple of things before we get to the recipe. First, this recipe is one I found on the King Arthur Flour website (click on the recipe title to go to their original post). Ironic, isn't it? They have a great gluten-free (GF) flour blend, one of the few I've found that includes no soy or dairy. And their website has great GF recipes as well.
Second, most chocolate contains soy lecithin. Some people with soy allergies can tolerate soy lecithin or even soybean oil, as both contain only trace amounts of soy protein, but I am not one of them -- I'm allergic to the plant itself, not just the protein. I use Enjoy Life brand chocolate, available in many grocery stores in the organic section. (There is a store guide on their website.) You can also substitute cocoa powder: 1 tablespoon of cocoa, 1 teaspoon of oil, and 3.5 teaspoons of sugar = 1 oz. of semisweet chocolate. (1 cup = 8 ozs, so you do the math :) ) Nix the sugar for bittersweet chocolate
1 cup semisweet or bittersweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup butter (I substitute coconut oil to avoid dairy)
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 eggs
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
Glaze:
1 cup chocolate chips
1/2 cup heavy cream (I substitute coconout milk)
Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Lightly grease a 9" round cake pan. Cut a piece of parchment or wax paper, place in the bottom of the pan, and lightly grease.
Melt the chocolate and butter/oil in the microwave until just melted, then add the sugar, salt, and vanilla, mixing thoroughly with a beater. You can also add 1 to 2 teaspoons of espresso powder if desired. (I haven't tried this yet. :) ) Add the eggs, beating until smooth, and then do the same with the cocoa powder.
Pour the batter into your pan and bake for 25 minutes until the cake's internal temperature is 200 degrees. Take out and cool for 5 minutes. Turn onto a serving platter (the cake is now upside down on your plate, which is fine) and allow to cool completely.
For the glaze: heat the chocolate and cream/milk in the microwave until the liquid is hot. Stir until the chocolate is completely melted. Pour the glaze over the cake and cool for several hours before cutting.
~ ~ * ~ ~
Sound yummy? I love this cake. I've never been a huge chocolate cake fan because they tend to be dry, but we have a family recipe that is moist and delicious. This cake is equally so! Let me know if you try it -- I'd love to hear about your results.
Until next month's recipe...
~ Ella
In Honor of...
the fantastic guy whose birthday is celebrated today (hint: see image to left!), I'm about to prove how truly boring I am No, seriously. :) For your amusement, I present MY TOP TEN THINGS to do on a school/work holiday.
1. READ.
2. Walk in the woods.
3. Go to a movie (did that one yesterday!). Or stay home, cuddle on the couch, and watch a movie. (Almost as good as going out -- and sometimes better. ;) )
4. Go out to eat. (Because, yeah, I don't really enjoy cooking, and the cleanup afterward? No. But I love food!)
5. READ. (This guy has the right idea, huh?)
6. (In summer) Go to the farmers market just to browse (and sometimes buy, but if I bought everything I wanted at the farmers market, I'd never be able to use it all).
7. Visit a bookstore!!!! (And in all honesty, my favorite is my local used bookstore. I compare it to people saying they love going to thrift store and digging around to find buried treasure. My used bookstore has an incredible selection, and even better, I can order new books there too!)
8. Sleeping/daydreaming.
9. Play a board game with the family. (Our most recent "love" is Settlers of Catan -- boy, have we gotten hours of fun out of that game.)
10. And finally, because it really is the best way to spend a true day off, it must be said thrice: READ! I even have the perfect option for your reading enjoyment:
So tell me, how are you spending your holiday weekend?
~ Ella
Happy Valentine's Day!
I don't care what they say about commercialism -- why diss a holiday that celebrates love? Every day should be Valentine's Day in the world of romance! This Valentine's Day is particularly special, however, because my newsletter is set to go out on Sunday, and I've included a very special Valentine's Day celebration: an exclusive scene cut from TEACH ME and now shared only with my newsletter subscribers.
Squeeee!!!!
I can't wait to share this sweet, hot, totally erotic scene with you! If you aren't on my mailing list, be sure to SIGN UP HERE before Sunday or risk missing out on this glimpse into Con and Jess's relationship. :)
Christmastime Is Here!
I'm on hiatus until January, getting lots of editing done on Trust Me and tons of other goodies for you to enjoy in the New Year. In the meantime, may your holidays be blessed with love and laughter, and plenty of good books to fill your hours!
~ Ella
Happy Thanksgiving!
It's Thanksgiving week here in the US, and the perfect time to remember the things I'm thankful for. It's been a difficult year for me, one filled with quite a bit of illness but also many, many highs like the release of Teach Me. Here's my list of the top ten things I'm most thankful for this year:
1. My family.
2. Being healthier than I've been all year.
3. Being a published author and realizing one of my life's biggest dreams.
4. Becoming a self-published author -- one of the hardest parts of this journey, but one that has taught me so much, not only about publishing and how to create a great book, but also about myself as a human being and how strong and determined I truly am.
5. My husband's support. Many authors go this journey alone or, worse, with active discouragement from their spouses. I'm blessed with a spouse who encourages me the whole way.
6. My creativity. This year I developed a severe soy allergy that left me with months of brain fog and inability to write. I no longer take for granted the ability to tell stories, to get into my characters and actually feel the joy of writing.
7. My readers! I've had the privilege of meeting and getting to know some truly lovely readers this year. I can't tell you how exciting and humbling this experience has been!
8. Rory Olsen, my editor and all-around encourager. Rory has been a godsend and a true blessing on this journey. I'm so thankful she was the one who read Dirty Little Secret over a year ago!
9. Being outdoors. There were periods of this year where being outside wasn't an option for me. Taking a walk is one of life's greatest joys, and I'm thankful that ability has been restored to me.
10. Books! 'Nough said. :)
I hope you all enjoy this week with family and friends, whether it's Thanksgiving holiday where you live or not. What are you thankful for?
A Halloween Friday Funny
What happens when you videotape bats, then flip the video upside down? Take a look -- and melt at the cuteness! [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ce_v8l4ie0Y&w=560&h=315]
Enjoy Your Labor Day!
By Beverly & Pack [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
Presidents Day
Yes, today is Presidents Day here in the US. And yes, that means Hubby is home from work today. And yes, that means he's distracting me terribly, which is why there isn't a "real" post up today. ;) Not unless you want me to wax on about how distracting hubbies can be, but then he'd only interrupt and distract me some more and I'd never finish, so... You get the idea! I hope you and yours have a great Monday!
~ Ella
Funny Friday: Calvin and the New Year
My son and I love Calvin and Hobbes. In fact, he received the Complete Calvin and Hobbes Collection (that weighs about 50 pounds!) for Christmas. So I thought I'd ring in the New Year with a little bit of my favorite much-too-mature little kid. :)
Kisses and Prizes...and Kisses!
Hop on over to Angel Payne's blog for this year's New Year's Kisses Party for an excerpt from Naughty Little Christmas (Damien and Harley's first kiss!) and a chance to win a ton of prizes. Damien's excerpt is live today, but the contest lasts through January 2nd. Enjoy!
There are also excerpts over on What's on the Bookshelf and Harlie's Books (look at that, another "Harley"!) today with a chance to win a $25 gift card and a copy of Dirty Little Secrets. Be sure and check those out as well!
~ Ella
Release Day! Naughty Little Christmas Is Here -- And We're Having a Dance Par-tay!
Woot! It's a release day par-tay! :) Naughty Little Christmas is live at Loose Id! And just to prove it, here is the link: Naughty at LI!
*UPDATE: We're live on Amazon and All Romance eBooks! Woot!
Keep in mind, ALL ebook formats are available at LI. All you have to do is download the format appropriate for your ereader (or your computer, and they even tell you which format you need on their FAQs page), hook your ereader to your computer, and drag and drop the file to your ereader. Easy peasy! Even I can do it, and that's saying something. ;)
I will update as new formats become available, but I'm not sure how the holidays will affect load time, so even that pesky Nook file that won't be available for WEEKS can be had right away at LI's website. Run right over and get your copy of Damien and Harley for Christmas! You won't regret it!
And now that the practical "stuff" is taken care of...let's PAR-TAY!!! Here's the blurb for the most awesome Christmas story this year. Woot!
Harley Fisher's life changed forever when her twin sister gave birth to a baby one month before she died. This Christmas, Harley wants her adopted daughter to have the very best gift possible: her real father. Determined to discover if Damien Adams is worthy of being a part of the baby's life, Harley forces her way into a job as the manager-in-training for his new nightclub, Thrice. Damien is blunt, challenging, and sexy as all get-out. Desiring him is wrong, but when he touches her, it's oh so right.
Damien needs a manager for Thrice so he can return to overseeing all three of his clubs. Harley's too young, too hip, too damn tempting--and perfect for the job. Wanting her violates every rule he's laid out for his life, but even the strongest convictions can falter under the mistletoe.
Harley's keeping one hell of a secret. When Damien finds out, will Harley and his daughter be the best Christmas gift he's ever received, or will her secrets leave them with nothing more lasting than a naughty little Christmas this year?
I am so excited about this release! Let me tell you, Damien and Harley are hot enough together to singe the pages.We get a glimpse of old friends, and a glimpse of new ones that just might appear *hint, hint* in future books. :)
As you know if you've meandered over to the Extras Page for Dirty Little Secret, I have a theme song for every book. Today, in honor of Naughty's release and the Christmas holidays, I have TWO theme songs to share! The Christmas theme song for Naughty is mentioned in the very first page. That's right, it's George Michael's "Last Christmas." I know, I know, there are much more "sophisticated" versions nowadays, but for me, that song will always be perfect in George's voice. So here it is for your viewing enjoyment: "Last Christmas." (Dig that '80s hairstyle, dude! :) )
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8gmARGvPlI&w=560&h=315]
But wait, that's not all! Naughty had two theme songs. This song, while also an oldie, encompassed everything these characters seemed to struggle through. I had it on repeat so much my kids begged me to stop playing it! So, without further ado, "All I Want" by Toad the Wet Sprocket:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AVYYpNaSs2Y&w=420&h=315]
Want some more? How about Damien's song for Harley? Damien might start off skeptical that Harley has what it takes to be successful at managing Thrice, but by the end of the book, he realizes exactly how much they have in common -- and how perfect she is for him. Here's his message for his Wonder Girl: "Hey, Soul Sister" by Train.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVpv8-5XWOI&w=560&h=315]
Harley is not afraid to butt heads with Damien, ever. And they do butt heads, often and hard. What song reminds me most of these two and their explosive reaction to each other? That one's easy! "One More Night" by Maroon 5.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwK7ggA3-bU&w=560&h=315]
Okay, last one, I promise! There are some smokin' hot sex scenes in this book, I'm tellin' ya. One occurs...ahem...outside, atop Damien's low-slung sports car, the one Harley describes as "the equivalent of fuck-me shoes, except for men: all I can give you exactly what you want, all night long." ;) So what song inspired that scene? Why, the same one that inspired the smokin' hot dance scenes, of course; "Hands All Over" by Maroon 5:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQEZ-RiW7X0&w=560&h=315]
All right, all right! I know that's enough. Can you tell I love music for my books? By next week I'll have the extras page for Naughty complete and you can see the entire playlist I listened to for the book. For now, though, how about an excerpt? Okay, here you go!
*
“You’re who?”
Harley came very close to laughing, though she wasn’t sure if it was actual amusement or just plain nerves. George Michael’s voice crooned “Last Christmas” in her head. “Tell me, baby, do you recognize me?” It’s definitely been a year. Guess the answer’s no.
She managed to hold back the laughter. Barely. Nerves wouldn’t get the better of her any more than Damien Adams would. She refused to allow it. Squaring her shoulders, she ignored the fact that she felt like an idiot with her hand dangling out in front of her, waiting to shake, while she faced down the man who had taken the Atlanta bar scene by storm less than a year ago. In person he was more like a blizzard, slamming into her senses, whiting out everything, including her courage. She’d always been good at faking it, though.
Ignoring his obvious impatience, she tried again. “Harley Fisher.”
The jerk stared back silently, full lips pressed tight together, a dark brow cocked up in question.
Okay, she knew she’d interrupted him, but seriously… She raised her own brow, getting a little impatient herself and trying hard to control it. “We spoke on the phone. About the general manager’s position,” she reminded him carefully.
Damien looked at her still-extended hand; then, with casual deliberation, he crossed his arms over his wide, muscular chest. The silk of his shirt stretched to a fit that resembled plastic wrap. Pulling her gaze from the deep V of the open neck, she dropped her hand and refused to be intimidated. She needed this job, and she intended to have it.
A spark of recognition lit those river-brown eyes, and Harley swallowed hard against the heavy, dry lump in her throat until he said, “Right. You’re the one I thought was a guy.”
She caught her grimace before it could get out. Yes, her name was unusual. She was often mistaken for a man until someone saw her in person, after which they simply thought she was an airhead. Or a slut. Her youth and rocker-chick persona often worked against her in the “real” world, but it never took people—men—long to learn differently. Hopefully Mr. Slick here would be quick on the uptake.
From the look of it, she had a better chance of Santa coming down her nonexistent chimney.
Raising her voice slightly to be heard over the remixed Christmas song blaring from the speakers, she said, “Yes, that Harley.” Try a smile, she told herself. “We—”
An impatient shake of his head cut off her words. “I believe I told you we were looking for someone more”—his gaze slid slowly down her body and back up—“more.”
More what, for God’s sake? More ready to jump into bed with him? A strong urge to put her leather jacket back on, as if she were still out in the Atlanta winter cold, bit into her. And pissed her off. Maybe she’d made a mistake in coming here. Damien obviously wasn’t the man she’d thought he would be, the man she needed.
No, give it a chance. This is too important to be making rash decisions. He can afford to; you can’t.
She dug her fingernails deep into her palms and wished her soon-to-be boss wasn’t quite such an ass.
Or quite so sexy. Looking at him heated her body in a way that had nothing to do with the anger she was feeling. The reaction shook her. Of course, Sonny’d always had good taste in men.
Which was definitely not why Harley was here.
Pain tingling in her palms from the digging of her nails, she forced herself to hold his stare. “Mr. Adams, simply because I’m young—and female—doesn’t mean I’m not the right person for the job. If you could just take a look over my résumé one more time—”
“I’ve seen what I needed to see, Ms. Fisher,” he said, voice dropping to little more than a growl. “I own three very successful clubs in three cities hundreds of miles apart. Traveling between them means leaving someone else in charge, someone with the experience and expertise to work independently, wisely, and efficiently. It means I must trust that person implicitly with my livelihood and that of my employees. Being Thrice’s general manager requires more than a familiarity with the bar.” That insulting look returned to his eyes, implying various ways she might’ve gained such knowledge that had nothing to do with her brains.
Oh, he so did not go there.
“So what you’re saying is, a woman in her midtwenties, a former musician, covered in tattoos but looking reasonably attractive is by definition a lush? Or are you insinuating that I’m a whore?”
Damien stared, eyes wide with shock, as if he couldn’t believe the words that had left her mouth. Then a boyish grin transformed him from put-out businessman to dangerously naughty hunk, and the urge to let go of her anger sank its teeth deep. No way. She was not forgetting he was rude, egotistical, asinine, a dickhead…
He laughed before she could let a real hissy fit loose. The sound echoed, rich and full, blending and countering the music filling the room. It deflated the ball of emotion choking her, drew her in, made her want to mix her laugh with his. She held her breath, unable to decide if his reaction was a good or bad thing.
“Forgive me,” Damien said. A wheeze interrupted the last word, and he had to pause to get his mirth under control. “You’re right. That was uncalled for.” Like an old-world aristocrat, he bowed from the waist. His shirt draped away from his chest, giving her a glimpse of smooth, tan skin all the way to his navel. “My apologies.”
Did he plan to kiss her hand next? The man had throwing people off down to an art. And why didn’t he look ridiculous with his shirt unbuttoned down to a lick-worthy six-pack? Reminding herself of her purpose, she said warily, “Accepted. I think.”
His grin said if that was the best he could get, he’d take it. “Ms. Fisher, I appreciate your candor—and that you are willing to forgive my rudeness. But—”
She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. There always has to be a but.
“—the fact remains that a certain level of experience is necessary for this position. I’m sorry.”
He turned to leave, and panic took over, pushing her to close the distance between them. Instinctively her hand shot out, and then she was gripping the heavy muscle of his biceps. Desperation firmed her hold when the shock of physical contact shot up her arm like a lightning bolt. He felt hot. Masculine. This close, he smelled of spice and alcohol, and she found herself breathing heavier just to take in more.
Don’t be a damn fool, Harley! Get your act together.
“Ms. Fisher—”
Before he could blast her for detaining him, Harley firmed both her courage and her voice. “Thrice has been open how long, Mr. Adams?” When he refused to answer, she did it for him. “Six months. I’ve been involved in the Atlanta music scene for fifteen years, the last seven of which I spent not only as a musician but as an event organizer and PR rep for my band and several others.”
That got him to face her fully. “You are either older than you look, or that’s a big stretch of the truth.”
She let a smirk sneak onto her lips. “And you are more unfamiliar with your new market than I would have given you credit for. My mother rotated out of every club in town, dragging me along with her from the time I was ten so she could sing her heart out. At fifteen I became involved with the indie music scene, and three years later formed and managed my own band, Aftershock.”
At the name, Damien’s brows shot up. So much for actually reading my résumé. Anyone with even a basic knowledge of indie music had heard of Aftershock; they were one of the foremost bands in the business, not just because they were damn good musicians, but because Harley had as good of instincts in management as she did with a bass guitar. If her private life hadn’t blown all to hell, she would still be with them.
“I see.”
She could tell he didn’t like admitting he was wrong, but at least the playboy charm was darkening into something more serious, more thoughtful, without the annoyed edge he’d shown at first. Time to close the deal. “You know the national scene, no doubt about it. You know what needs to be done to make things happen in LA or Colorado. You gained that know-how through study, experience, and local help.” She fought to keep the quaver of desperation out of her words. “I can give you that here, Mr. Adams, and with far more depth and speed and with lower cost than anyone else you could hire. I know Atlanta. I know the people here. I know the nightlife and the music and the contacts to make it all happen.” She pulled in a heavy lungful of air to ease her aching chest. “I am the person for this job.”
When the last word left her lips, she knew every ounce of her passion and determination went with it. Her lungs deflated like a balloon with a slow leak, refusing to refill as she waited for his verdict. Thinking of everything that was at stake, she willed him to listen, to see all that she could offer.
“You’re not gonna give an inch, are you?” he finally asked.
Harley narrowed her eyes. “No, and you wouldn’t want me to. It’s exactly what you need.”
Damien’s gaze dropped to the hand still clutching his arm. Harley slowly released him, the burn of embarrassment firing her cheeks. When his mouth, that sinfully full mouth, opened to speak, she braced herself for rejection.
“Okay.”
Wh-what? The single word hit like a brick wall she’d never seen coming. “Okay?” she parroted.
“Okay, let’s talk.” Glancing down, he surveyed the thick black watch encircling his wrist. “I have a couple of things to settle first, but if you’re willing to hang around, I’ll take the time to speak with you.”
Clenching the muscles in her thighs to keep herself from slumping to the floor in relief, she forced calm into her voice. “Yes. Absolutely.”
Damien stared down at her for a long moment, something dark and unreadable in his eyes. Knowing she had to get used to him watching her, judging her, she let him look. Whether he found what he was looking for or not, she didn’t know. He turned to a passing employee, asked the man to escort her to a table in the bar, and nodded before making his way down a nearby hall.
She couldn’t resist a final glance in his direction as she was led across the room. Step one down. They were on their way.
* * * *
He needed to stop looking at her. Every few minutes his gaze strayed toward the corner table in the bar where Harley Fisher sat, sipping a drink with red and silver sprinkles rimming the glass, chatting with every employee who passed. The Christmas lights illuminating the area glinted in her eyes, and he couldn’t keep his fucking gaze off her. Which was bad, because he didn’t do employees—ever. And he wanted to do her, no doubt about it.
Pretending to listen to Brad give him a rundown of the night’s tally, he took in the picture she made. She fit, which was what had made him wary at first. Too young, too hip. From the top of her candy-red-and-cream-striped hair to the toes of her knee-high stiletto boots, she looked like one of his customers—the ones he occasionally slept with—not a manager. She had slipped her tight leather jacket onto the chair back, revealing a silky silver tank that showcased a full-sleeve tattoo along one slender, toned arm. Those muscles came from holding a guitar, he now knew. A musician. Wasn’t that just further reason to be panting after the woman? It was a wonder he hadn’t been forced to roll his tongue back into his mouth like the cartoon characters he remembered from childhood.
“Boss?”
Brad’s voice pulled him back to business, and Damien turned, removing Harley from his line of sight. Tonight’s private Christmas party for Keane Industry’s Atlanta office had been well attended, the bar busy all night. Brad needed his attention, as did a million additional things, both here and at his other two clubs. He needed a general manager for Thrice. Once, his club in LA, and Twice, the Denver nightclub, were both hugely successful, but he wasn’t the kind of owner who could open a place and then leave it in someone else’s hands entirely. He stayed in constant contact with both managers, flying out frequently to each location, this month in particular. The series of charity events planned for the holidays would benefit hundreds of families in the three cities where he ran clubs, but they added more strain to his already overfull schedule.
He and Brad were finishing up the details for tomorrow’s order when Ryan strolled over to lean against the bar.
“Sounds good, Brad,” Damien told the bartender. “Finalize those numbers and have Malik get that order in ASAP tomorrow morning.”
Brad immediately pulled out his phone to shoot the day supervisor a reminder, which was one reason the man had become such a trusted employee so quick. He got things done and done fast. Damien needed all the help he could get. Fifty e-mails waited on his phone for his attention, and that didn’t include the things Ryan, as his assistant, handled on his own, or the things Ryan couldn’t handle when he and Brad took over Thrice while Damien was away. Both men worked hard, but neither had the know-how or experience to run the club without constant input from Damien, not yet. The need for a seasoned day-to-day manager here at Thrice neared desperation level at this point. No one he’d interviewed had felt right for such an important position, though. No one had even come close, not until Harley.
“Remind him about contacting that wholesaler while you’re at it,” Ryan put in. “See what the guy has to offer us.”
Brad nodded, fingers flying, then hit a final button and looked up. “Anything else?”
“No, you’re good,” Damien told him, meaning it.
“Does that mean I get an extra-special Christmas bonus this year?” the bartender asked with a grin.
“I don’t know. Ryan?”
Brad groaned. “You did not put Wonder Boy in charge of our bonuses, did you?”
“I’ll remember that,” Ryan warned.
Brad laughed as he headed toward the other end of the bar, which spanned the length of the club area, to finish supervising the night’s cleanup.
Ryan leaned a little closer, brows up almost to his hairline, and smiled slyly. “So, who’s the girl?”
In the four years Ryan had worked for him, Damien had come to love his young assistant like a little brother, so he didn’t resist the urge to smack the little pissant upside the back of his head.
“Hey, man, don’t mess with the hair!” Ryan smoothed the ruffled strands at his nape, but his smile widened despite the whine in his voice.
“Keep your tongue on a leash,” Damien warned, his words lacking heat. Without his consent, his gaze traveled toward Harley, watching as one of the waiters approached her table to offer a refill. Harley shook her head; then something the man said made her laugh. A twinge of pain shot through his jaw as Damien ground his teeth together. “That,” he told Ryan, “is Harley Fisher.”
Ryan shot to attention at his side. “The Harley Fisher? From Aftershock? Hot damn!” His tongue practically hung out as he stared across the room, and Damien started to wonder if he was going to have to wipe up drool. “I didn’t recognize her offstage. Is this my Christmas gift? Say yes. Please?” The last word definitely approached a whine.
Ryan was much closer to the indie scene than Damien, obviously, but it wasn’t as if Damien had no clue who the woman was. Aftershock was one of those bands that even adamant anti-indie listeners knew and enjoyed. He kept up with their music, if not all the band members’ names. What he did know was the venues they played—good ones, events that took finesse to get, especially for a band without the solid backing of a major record company. If Harley acted as their manager, she knew what the hell she was doing. So why leave that behind to work for him?
Ryan’s gushing made the pain in Damien’s jaw worse. “Down, boy. She’s applied for the general manager’s position.”
“No kidding?” A thoughtful look crossed Ryan’s boyish face. “I’d heard she was on hiatus. Maybe it was more serious than the rumor mill let on.”
Something to think about. She certainly seemed the best choice overall, given her background. And if he was honest, the main thing holding him back at this point was the attraction he felt for her. He liked her spunk. He liked that she didn’t take his shit without calling him on it. Damn it, he liked her, wanted her, and therein lay the problem. She was trouble waiting to happen. With a capital T.
A soft, feminine hand on his arm interrupted his thoughts. “Damien? Is everything all right?”
Mia. Another problem squeezing herself onto his overflowing plate. When he said he didn’t do employees, he meant it, but Mia refused to get the picture.
He straightened. “Fine, Mia,” he said, shifting as subtly as possible away from the petite waitress. Petite but strong, barracuda strong. She, like Harley, was young, maybe twenty-three. She’d been waitressing at Thrice for three months, and if things didn’t change soon, he would be forced to let her go. Being ambushed every time he came in the door of his own club was unacceptable—and unavoidable. She’d made it so.
“Would you like me to gather the staff for the meeting?” she asked, swaying her shoulders side to side in an incongruously little-girl move that emphasized her generous breasts in the low-cut shirt she wore. Damien knew better than to look down. They were nice breasts—he’d noticed; he was a breast man, after all—but a single glance and he’d end up with a permanent attachment to his hip that would take a crowbar to remove.
Keeping his eyes firmly locked with her exotic, almond-shaped ones, he said, “Valentine will let you know when we’re ready.” He glanced over to see his waitstaff supervisor at the far end of the room, pointing two waiters in the direction of a section that had not been taken care of yet. He nodded in Valentine’s direction. “Don’t you have cleanup to get through?”
Mia’s full lips pouted prettily. “I just wanted to help, Damien. I’m sorry.”
Instead of rolling his eyes, he nudged his chin toward the opposite end of the room. “Finish up, please.”
“That is a mess waiting to happen,” Ryan murmured, barely waiting until Mia stepped out of earshot.
“I agree.” He jammed both fists against the bar, arms rigid, and rolled his shoulders to release the tension that had settled there. “One you can take care of while I’m away.”
“Thanks,” Ryan mocked. “I get to cover your ass while you gallivant all over the country, and handle the horny waitress.”
Damien smirked at the disdain dripping from Ryan’s last word. “It’s a dirty job, but at least I don’t have to do it.” Especially not at Christmas. Damien hated letting anyone go, but the young woman had been warned strongly and repeatedly. Knowing what had to be done didn’t mean it depressed him less.
Damien motioned for Brad and Valentine to gather their crews for the “family meeting,” the staff meeting held nightly to go over issues from the shift or things that needed to be addressed for upcoming ones. By the time they finished, Harley had been waiting more than an hour for his attention, but she didn’t act impatient. She’d watched him handle the staff, those green eyes alight with interest. Now those same eyes narrowed on him as he walked toward her table, leaving Brad and Ryan to lock up.
Damien felt the pull of that look, right down to his groin. And that hair. Jesus. Her hair reminded him of those Life Savers strawberries-and-cream lollipops he used to love as a kid, a swirled mix of sharp tang and sweet, creamy goodness. It made him wonder where else on Harley he could taste creamy goodness. When his dick filled at the thought, he groaned. He needed her as a manager, not a good lay. He could get sex anytime; someone to fill the empty slot in his business was far harder to come by.
Harley was it, but neither he nor his cock were jumping for joy over the decision.
*
All right, guys, that's it for today! Enjoy the party? Then be sure and hop over to Loose Id and pick up your copy of Naughty Little Christmas today. Merry Christmas!
The Best Christmas Tree Ever
I'm addicted -- to a tree. I admit it. About three years ago, my family and I went to the local Christmas tree farm like we do every year. It became a family tradition when we moved back to the Deep South from Houston, Texas. We go every year on a cold afternoon, cut a tree, stop at Starbucks for cocoa, and come home to decorate. It's an occasion my kids anticipate every year, and I have to admit, I do too. Anywho.
About three years ago, we noticed a row of trees near the ones we were inspecting for possible chopping. We had passed over every fir we found, none of the cypress's would do, and yet we needed a tree. And there, just across the way, was the oddest tree we'd ever seen. It wasn't exactly green, more like a greenish gray. The needles weren't straight, more twisted and densely packed. And when you brushed against it -- the most intense cinnamon-evergreen scent that's ever met my nose. It was beautiful. I had to have one!
Our mystery tree is an Arizona Cypress, so they tell me. I don't care. I just know it "makes" Christmas for me. The scent, the beauty. Last year, when I was struggling with shoulder pain (and ended up with surgery days before Christmas), the tree even looked beautiful with no ornaments. We stuck clumps of velvety red poinsettias and these lime-green sparkly twigs in strategic places and called it good. And the tree was still a beauty.
So, this year I'm sitting in my living room watching the white lights twinkle on my awesome tree, smelling the fresh scent filling the house, and enjoying the anticipation of the season. Now if only we had some snow...
UPDATE! We got the ornaments on! Isn't she pretty?
Happy Thanksgiving!
Every year since my kids were little, we have watched every Charlie Brown movie for the winter holidays. We love the Great Pumpkin and that spindly little Charlie Brown Christmas tree, but we also watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. A little less popular, maybe, but it's what makes the season for us. So, in the spirit of Charlie Brown, happy Thanksgiving!
