At Rainy Day Reviews you will find
my personal reviews on books as well as reading challenges, weekly memes I participate in, and all other bookish topics.
Thank you for stopping by my blog:) I hope you enjoyed yourself and hope to see you again:)
They say young love doesn't last, but a girl from the wrong side of the tracks with unique abilities and the hometown golden boy were determined to defy the odds. For Zack Covington, Anna-Grace—his "Gracie"—was the one. But one night forever altered the course of their future; when a devastated Gracie disappeared without a trace, Zack was left to agonize over what happened to the girl he loved. As the years passed, his desperate efforts to find her uncovered nothing.
Now working for Devereaux Security, he stumbles across a painting featuring a special place only he and Gracie would know. The image is too perfectly rendered for it to be coincidence. His Gracie must be alive. When he comes face to face with her, he is shocked—and heartbroken—to discover the wounded shell of the girl he once knew and still loves. Her psychic gifts are gone, and worse, she believes he betrayed her all those years ago.
Zack has enemies, and once his weakness is discovered, Gracie becomes a target for revenge. He'll have to save her before he can earn her trust and her love. And he vows they'll never be torn apart again.
Zack Covington simmered with impatience as he waited for the go signal from his
teammates. He didn’t exactly know what was going on in the basement of the
McMansion—one not unlike he’d once dreamed of building for the girl he’d
planned to spend forever with—but knew it wasn’t good. Sometimes bad lurked in
seemingly benign locations. People existed in denial it could happen in their
little corner of the earth. How very wrong they were.
It was a lesson he’d learned the learned the hard way. Coming from a small town
nestled against the shores of Kentucky Lake, he’d thought—just as most of its
citizens, likely—that they were impervious to bad. And Zack? He was more
confident than most, because his father was the chief of police, and he’d grown
up knowing his father’s job was to ensure the safety of the town, regardless of
But he’d damn sure failed when it came to Gracie. Everyone had failed her and
Zack had lead the pack. His father’s refusal to use county resources on someone
who didn’t belong anyway had caused a rift between him and his father that to
this day hadn’t been mended.
It never would be.
Zack sighed as he contemplated the stately homes, the expensive cars, swimming
pools behind high privacy fences and the immaculately landscaped yards. The
white collar families who resided in the gated community that boasted top notch
security would be horrified to know that evil lurked in their midst. The irony
of it all, was that the affluent neighborhood had recently been voted the
safest and most desirable communities to live in the greater Houston area.
Hell, it had scored in the top five in the entire state of Texas and in the top
twenty for the whole country. So yeah, these people were utterly convinced that
they were safe.
But he knew better. Inside was a child. Just a baby. Well, not so much a baby
as she was only two years younger than his Gracie. Goddamn it. Not here. Not
now. It was no time for the past to intrude. Besides Gracie was hardly the
beautiful, innocent sixteen year old girl he’d loved over a decade ago. She’d
be twenty-eight now.
If she was even alive.
And she wasn’t “his” Gracie anymore. She wasn’t his anything.
Maybe he hadn’t been able to save Gracie. Maybe he’d failed her. But over his
dead body was he going to fail this young girl whose dreams were as big as the
sun. Not when the two most important people in her life—or at least should have
been the most important—had failed her in every possible way.
Alyssa Delacroix had been a very promising ballerina at a very early age, a
fact her mother had taken pride in when she’d participated in kindergarten
recitals, received high praise and glowing local and state accolades. Later,
when the demands of her training had encroached on both mother and father’s
social lives, Alyssa had fallen far down the list of their priorities.
Until the father had received pointed threats, aimed at Alyssa.
The Delacroix’s had five children with Alyssa being the middle child, with two
older brothers and two younger sisters. When Howard Delacroix had called in
DSS, it had disgusted Zack that the man seemed irritated, not that his daughter
was being threatened, but that he wasn’t the subject of the
threat. It was a blow to his ego that evidently he was not as important as his
Pompous, arrogant pig who had no business having children. His wife was no
better. Zack could only dream of the life they had—a life he once thought
he would have—a houseful of children. Happy. And yet the
couple was more concerned with their social standing than the care of their
They’d hired a nanny and it was the nanny who attended all sports events, dance
recitals and provided the love and support the parents should have. And now she
was dead, shot when trying to protect one of the younger Delacroix children
when masked men had burst into the auditorium where the dance recital was being
held, cut the lights, causing instant chaos when gunfire erupted.
The father? Had dropped like a fucking coward, hiding behind his wife,
while the nanny had saved his son. Zack would like to put a bullet right
between the asshole’s eyes for that alone.
The only reason Howard and Felicity Delacroix had even been there hadn’t been
to see their daughter shine. They’d attended solely because the CEO of another
oil company also had a daughter performing and Howard was in negotiations to
merge the two companies because the competitor was looking to retire and Howard
wanted to take over both companies and expand his “empire.” Hell, he and his
wife hadn’t even sat with their children, leaving the nanny to tend to them
while they sat a row back talking business while their daughters’ performed.
The target had been Alyssa. And Alyssa had been Zack’s responsibility. Hell,
she was all of DSS’s responsibility, but Zack had been the closest, and in the
clusterfuck that had ensued, a hysterical woman had blocked his pathway to
Alyssa, a mere foot away, getting shot in the process and Alyssa had been
abducted in a professionally executed hit.
This was no amateur operation, and Zack had to wonder why someone would go to
such lengths to kidnap the child of a high profile oil mogul when the man took
absolutely no security precautions, and if any research on Delacroix had been
done at all and ransom had been the aim, he would have been the obvious choice.
He’d give up a hell of a lot of money for his own life. But for his children?
Even Zack knew the answer to that, and he’d only briefly made the man’s
acquaintance. He’d despised him on site because he grudgingly had to part with
some of his precious money to protect his daughter for “appearance’s sake.”
After all, it wouldn’t do for it to get out that a father had ignored threats
to his child, and above all else, Howard Delacroix had an ego the size of the
state he resided in.
When the silence through his earpiece continued—and he’d already waited an
interminable amount of time—Zack lost what was left of his patience. Fuck it.
He was going in. The Delacroix’s may not give two fucks about their daughter,
but Zack did, and he wasn’t about to sit on his hands when each passing second
could mean the difference between life and death.
Stealthily, he crept toward the window of the guest room. DSS had pulled the
floor plans of the housing developments—they were cookie cutter houses after
all—and quietly inserted his knife around the edges and bottom of the window to
loosen the panes. Only when he was able to slide the window upward, did he
whisper into the com, “I’m in.”
He ignored the curses of Dane, heard an “about time” muttered by Eliza, while
Capshaw and Renfro said nothing at all.
Zack slid into the bedroom with ease and quickly drew his gun with silencer
attached with one hand and reached for a flash bang grenade with the other. He
knew the layout by heart having studied it until it was ingrained in his mind.
The house was eerily dark when he slipped from the bedroom, but in the
distance, the sound of a television could be heard. His partners could cover
the front. His aim was the lower level and he honed in on his target with
A shadow appeared in his periphery and he immediately flattened himself against
the wall just as a man rounded the corner, heading directly toward Zack. A
quick assessment told him this wasn’t a resident of the house. He was dressed
in fatigues and a black shirt, a shoulder harness holding a pistol and several
Kevlar knives secured to his waist. What the fuck did these jokers want with a
fourteen-year-old girl? Were they running some sort of human trafficking ring?
And if so, why the one girl? There had been over two dozen
girls between the ages of eight and eighteen at the recital. In the utter chaos
that had ensued, they could have grabbed several others.
Zack yanked his gun up just as the other man spotted him and did the same. But
Zack had the element of surprise and only the thud of a dead body falling broke
“One down,” Zack said quietly into the comm. “And these guys are trained. Watch
“Goddamn it, Zack,” Beau hissed. “Wait for back-up.”
“Alyssa may not have time for back-up,” Zack bit back, moving toward the
stairway at the end of the hall.
He paused at the top and peered downward, his ears straining for any sound to
indicate movement up the stairs. What he heard froze him to the core.
Soft weeping. The sound of pain and despair. And it broke his heart.
Resisting the urge to rush recklessly the rest of the way down the stairs, he
forced himself to take it step by step, making sure he made no sound as he
descended when his every instinct was to charge in and take out the fuckers
who’d taken and hurt an innocent child.
He paused at the bottom because there was only a small area between the bottom
of the stairwell and the wall. He would have to round the corner to enter the
larger area of the room. Where Alyssa was being held. Where soft weeping could
still be heard.
He couldn’t lob the flash bang grenade, because it would be devastating to
Alyssa, and she could be executed in a split second once her kidnappers were
aware they’d been found. As schooled as Zack believed them to be, they’d likely
been exposed to them before—and trained to withstand the effects while
adequately defending themselves. Or taking out the enemy.
Inhaling a quiet breath, he gripped his knife in his left hand and curled his
fingers on his right hand around the stock of the pistol, just brushing the
trigger. The sight that greeted him would live with him until his dying breath.
Alyssa, bloodied, bruised, pale with shock, eyes glazed with pain and the sheen
of tears was manacled to the brick chimney base. It was like something out of a
medieval horror movie.
But worse was seeing who her tormentor was.
Zack didn’t move. Didn’t so much as breathe, praying the girl holding a knife
to Alyssa’s neck wouldn’t be alerted to his presence and slice through the
“Why are you doing this to me, Lana?” Alyssa whispered, choking on her tears as
she stared dully at her tormentor. “I thought we were friends!”
“Because with you out of the picture, I’ll be the best.
Not you,” the teenage girl hissed. “It’s always been about you. I’m
sick of hearing about how great Alyssa is. How talented. How you’re destined
for stardom. What does anyone say about me? Runner up. To you.
place. Now I’ll be the star and no one will even remember your name.”
Jesus. Zack recognized the girl. She’d performed just before Alyssa, and
obviously displayed talent, but from the moment Alyssa had taken the stage, it
had been equally evident that Alyssa had clearly outshone the other girl.
The sheer hatred for Alyssa was obvious in her rival’s voice. The malicious
triumph in her voice sickened Zack. A thin rivulet of blood slipped down
Alyssa’s neck and she gave a small cry, more of distress and fear than of pain.
What was more horrifying was that there was no way this girl could have pulled
off a plan so flawlessly. Nor would she have knowledge of such men capable of
executing a professional hit. Which meant her parents not only knew what was
happening in the basement of their home but had likely masterminded the entire
Zack had to act fast. He was very good at reading people and he didn’t doubt
for a second that the jealous teenage girl would kill Alyssa if he didn’t step
in now. In no way did he want to kill a teenage girl, just a child—but no, this
was no child. She was a cold-blooded psychopath who thought nothing of removing
someone she perceived as competition.
And then the decision was ripped from him when Alyssa glanced past her captor
and betrayed his presence by widening her eyes in alarm. Thankfully, the girl
lowered the knife and turned, perhaps thinking he was one of the men who’d
abducted Alyssa. But when her gaze settled on him, she raised the hand holding
the knife, her expression so vicious it gave him chills. Then she turned,
clearly directing the knife toward Alyssa’s chest.
It all happened in a split second, and yet it was as though everything was in
Alyssa screamed, straining sideways to avoid the wicked edge of the knife. Zack
fired, his aim precise, penetrating Lana’s arm just above the wrist, causing
the knife to drop. Lana’s scream mimicked Alyssa’s own and yet the obvious pain
the bullet wound must have caused didn’t deter her from her determined
She lunged at Alyssa, scratching furiously at Alyssa’s face while her other
hand hung uselessly at her side.
Zack hurled himself forward, grabbing a fistful of the hell cat’s hair and
yanked her back. In his ear, two voices were demanding a status report. He
ignored both, more worried about defending Alyssa from further harm if someone
not on his team came down the stairs.
“I’ll kill you!” Lana screamed, turning her fury on Zack.
And just as suddenly, her anger turned to triumph as she turned a spiteful look
in Alyssa’s direction.
“You’re too late anyway,” she said smugly.
Zack didn’t pause to consider what the crazy ass girl meant. He shoved her down
into a nearby chair and handcuffed her uninjured wrist to the arm. This time it
was she who gave away the presence of another. Relief flared in her eyes and
Zack immediately dropped and rolled toward Alyssa, placing his body between her
and any possible threat.
His gun was up and he didn’t hesitate when he saw a man who was similarly
attired as the one Zack had already taken down on the upper level. He didn’t
have time to go for the kill shot but put a bullet in the assailant’s upper
leg. Judging by the blood pumping from the wound as the man went down, it was
likely Zack had hit his femoral artery. If that was the case, the man was
finished and would bleed out in a matter of seconds.
Still, not one to assume anything, he took aim and put a second bullet through
the downed man’s neck.
“Goddamn it, where the fuck is everyone?” Zack demanded, addressing his
teammates for the first time. “Alyssa’s in the basement and two of the
kidnappers are dead. Anyone care to offer some back up here?”
“Well, if you’d been a little more patient, you’d have gotten your back up,”
Dane said dryly.
“If I’d waited any longer, Alyssa would be dead right now,” Zack snapped.
“We’ve cleared the main level,” Eliza broke in. “On our way now. And Zack, this
is some fucked up shit we’re dealing with.”
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Zack said grimly.
Satisfied that he’d encounter no further nasty surprises, Zack picked himself
up and quickly freed Alyssa’s wrists, using the key lying on a table just a few
feet away. As soon as she was free, she threw her arms around him and sobbed
into his neck. He closed his eyes, cupping the back of her head as he gently stroked
“It’s all right now, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”
“No it’s not,” she said with gulping sobs. “It’ll never be all
She clung tightly to him her grief causing a knot to form in Zack’s throat. The
world was filled with all kinds of sick, twisted fucks, but even this had the
power to surprise him. That someone so young was so evil and…sick. He didn’t
“Can you get up or do you need me to carry you?” Zack said, using a soothing,
calming voice. “How badly are you hurt?”
At his question, she completely fell apart, her cries so hopeless that it
enraged him that such innocence had been destroyed. But even then, he wasn’t
prepared for her answer.
“She broke my knees,” Alyssa sobbed. “She made it so I’ll never
dance again. Dancing was all I had and now it’sgone. She was supposed to
be my friend. We were going to room together, go to the same performing arts
academy. Oh God. What if I never walk again?”
Zack went utterly still with shock. As gently as he could, considering he was
shaking with rage, he pulled her away, just enough that he could evaluate her
legs. He hadn’t seen them before. He’d been too focused on Lana and the knife
she’d held and the fear in Alyssa’s eyes.
And what he saw horrified him.
The leotards she’d worn in her recital were torn and bloodied, impossibly
stretched by massive swelling caused by trauma to the kneecaps. He’d never felt
so sick in his life. Not since the day…
He shook his head, refusing to go back to that time in his life. There was a
young girl who needed him right now. He was all that had stood between her and
death. And to her, such a devastating injury was tantamount to death.
He very carefully slid one arm underneath her thighs, above the backs of her
knees and below her behind and the secured his other arm around her upper body,
hooking it underneath her armpit.
“This will hurt, honey, but I have to get you out of here and to a hospital
where it’s safe. Perhaps your injuries aren’t as severe as you fear.”
Devastation and doubt were clear in her tear-swollen eyes, but she clamped her
lips shut and leaned into him, not uttering a single sound as he lifted her and
carried her past Lana who was still handcuffed to the chair.
“What about me?” Lana shrieked. “You shot me!”
Zack turned his cold gaze on her, ensuring Alyssa’s head was tucked firmly
beneath his chin, her face buried against his neck so she would no longer have
to lay eyes on her torturer.
“Sue me,” he growled.
THE SLOW BURN SERIES
KEEP ME SAFE: A SLOW BURN NOVEL
By Maya Banks
When Caleb Devereaux discovers his younger sister, Tori, is kidnapped, he quickly turns to an unlikely source for help: Ramie St. Claire, a beautiful and sensitive woman with a psychic gift for finding answers others cannot. The two quickly find out their chemistry is undeniable and an intimate relationship follows.
While Ramie can connect to victims and alert authorities to their locations, her ability comes with a steep price. Every time she uses it, she experiences the same torture as the victim. Helping the infuriatingly attractive and impatient Caleb find his sister nearly kills her. Even though his sexual intensity draws her like a magnet, she needs to get as far away from him as she can.
Deeply remorseful for the pain he has caused, Caleb is determined to make things right. But just when he thinks Ramie’s vanished forever, she reappears. This time she’s the one in trouble and is in desperate needs of his help. Caleb will risk everything, including his heart, to protect her from a relentless and cruel murderer, who will stop at nothing and no one until he gets to Ramie.
IN HIS KEEPING: A SLOW BURN NOVEL
By Maya Banks
Arial knows the rules that keep her safe. She’s been following them since she was a little girl: Do not tell. Do not show. But in a moment of terror, facing an attacker intent on taking more than just her life, she has no choice but to unleash the psychic powers she’s been hiding since childhood.
Now, with Ari’s abilities revealed, a bigger threat looms - something that makes her question everything she thought she knew about her parents and her secretive upbringing. But this isn’t a fight she can face on her own.
As the head of Devereaux Security, Beau Devereaux is no stranger to the bizarre. But when he takes on a new client--a beautiful young woman with an extraordinary gift--Beau isn’t prepared for the extent of his attraction to her. What began as a simple assignment quickly turns personal as he discovers he’ll do anything it takes to protect Ari, the woman he loves.
Maya Banks a #1 USA Today and New York Times bestselling author whose chart toppers have included erotic romance, romantic suspense, contemporary romance, Scottish historical romances. She is the author of the Breathless Trilogy, the KGI novels, the Sweet series, and the Colters Legacy novels. She lives in the South with her husband and three children and other assorted babies, such as her two Bengal kitties and a Calico who’s been with her as long as her youngest child. She’s an avid reader of romance and loves to dish books with her fans and anyone else who’ll listen! She very much enjoys interacting with her readers on Facebook and Twitter as well as in her Yahoo! Group.
Series: Come Dancing, Book Two
Genre: Contemporary Romance/New Adult/Chick Lit
Julia is a young book editor on the rise. Jack is a British rock star at the pinnacle of his fame.
Can they both get what they want—if what they need threatens to tear them apart?
It’s January, 1982. Twenty-four-year-old Julia Nash has just moved in with her boyfriend, rock and roll guitarist extraordinaire Jack Kipling. Their connection sizzles as Jack takes her to England to meet his mother, and then to a private Caribbean island for a sensual post-holiday retreat.
But back in New York, they hit a turbulent patch. Career-focused Julia is in the running for a new job, while Jack’s life becomes even more chaotic with an upcoming thirty-city tour. Although free-spirited Jack enjoys his partying lifestyle, he craves more support on the home front. But Julia doesn’t know if she can ever be a domestic goddess—or if her wild boyfriend can ever be domesticated.
On tour, Julia experiences private jets, mind-blowing concerts, shocking hotel room antics, and screaming headlines. Back home, she has to decide if their relationship can withstand the ravages of fame and conflicting interests—not to mention a suave bestselling author who seems to like more than her grammar sense.
Emotionally poignant, hilarious and steamy, Keep Dancing will delight brand-new readers as a stand-alone novel, and also serves as the perfect follow-up to Come Dancing.
Praise for Keep Dancing
“Set in the 80s and dripping with the excesses this time period excelled at, Julia and Jack have reached a point in their relationship where the hard work begins. Julia is working towards her own stardom, while Jack continues to play in the world that made him. As external forces do their best to force this unusual couple apart, Jack and Julia will need to decide if they should keep dancing or find new partners. Emotionally plump with laughter, love, and heartbreak…” —Smexy Book Reviews
“HOT”—“In book two of the Jack and Julia series, Wells once again titles chapters after hit songs, and finds even more ways to describe the excitement surrounding New York City as she did in the debut…” —Romance Times
"This is a 5 star series, and I recommend this as a wonderfully fun yet angsty read. I loved the chemistry between Jack and Julia and their crazy bad communication skills (they didn’t have cell phones, after all). The breakups were worth it, if only just so they could make up!" -Cindy Becker, The Book Enthusiast
Praise for the first novel about Jack and Julia: Come Dancing, an Amazon Bestseller and Apple iBooks Breakout Book
“Wells builds an emotionally poignant love story, abounding with romance and humor.” —Smexy Book Reviews
“Sometimes a book like this comes along and takes me out of the niche reading that I tend to find myself in.... I am in love… So very sex + the city.” —Must Read Books or Die
“It reads like a very, very good romantic comedy movie.” —Michelle & Leslie’s Book Picks
“Once you start, you are completely unable to put it down.” —Devilishly Delicious Book Reviews
“Like a well-oiled machine or a well-tuned guitar, Julia and friends work their way into your heart.” —Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers
“Hot, sexy, and combustible.” —Blushing Divas Book Reviews
“Come Dancing is brimming with both humor and heart.” —Flashlight Commentary
“It's a fun romp, and the sparkling characters definitely made it worth the read.” —A Bookish Affair
“I enjoyed reading Come Dancing! It had a good story, fascinating characters, and a charming vibe.” —Julie Anne, Teacups & Book Love
Leslie Wells left her small Southern town in 1979 for graduate school in Manhattan, after which she got her first job in book publishing. She has edited forty-eight New York Times bestsellers in her over thirty-year career, including thirteen number one New York Times bestsellers. Leslie has worked with numerous internationally known authors, musicians, actors, actresses, television and radio personalities, athletes, and coaches. She lives on Long Island, New York.
In the summer of 1962, nothing could prepare Dr. Charles Campbell for his first meeting with his new client, Marilyn Monroe. A reputable psychiatrist, he's been hired by a studio executive to handle and subdue the star, no matter what it takes. Although he's been warned about Ms. Monroe's unpredictability, she's not what he expected, and resisting her natural charms will test his fortitude.
In the days that follow, Charles' world is turned upside-down. His marriage has been under pressure and is still fragile from one of his wife’s antics. Obsessed with reinvigorating her acting career, Helen Campbell often ignores her motherhood duties. Charles does as much as he can to hold the family together and to protect his young daughters, but the strain has reached a new intensity for all of them.
Charles’ sessions with Marilyn range from sensual to bizarre. She even threatens to go public with information that could ruin her career and destroy President Kennedy’s administration.
Desperate for advice, Charles enlists help from a former college pal, Bertrand Miller. A private detective, known for seedy practices, Miller isn’t new to Hollywood’s underside—or even to Marilyn’s secrets. He advises Charles to be careful, as it’s rumored that the mob will silence Marilyn to protect Kennedy.
But Charles makes the mistake of getting too personal with Marilyn. Although his intentions are well-meaning, those keeping an eye on Marilyn couldn’t care less, which makes Charles a target for the mob and the FBI. Saving Marilyn from her self-destructive ways and crossing doctor-patient boundaries, might also cost Charles Campbell his life.
Dr. Charles Campbell tightened the knot in his tie, knowing that today was the biggest day of his career. Maybe even his life. He promised himself--no, swore to himself--that he wouldn’t let his infatuation get the best of him, that he would hold it together when he met her for the very first time, right there in his office.
He’d cleared away the dust, made sure his diplomas hung T-square straight, and he’d washed his hands. Repeatedly. He’d made sure his gray suit and navy blue tie were pressed to perfection. Like most red-blooded, breathing males he’d taken a beating from inside his chest whenever he saw her on the screen. She had that way about her, being able to stir a man’s desires and make you fall in love with her effortlessly. With that teasing smile and that vulnerable naivety she exuded, she could make any man melt, abandon any morals he held. And her curves. Well, Charles couldn’t think on that. Not today.
He’d treat her the way every psychiatrist was expected to treat a patient. Charles promised himself he wouldn’t flinch or become a caricature of himself when he touched her hand. There would be no unbuttoning of his collar or adjusting the air conditioning unit. And his eyes would not wander. That was his resolve.
He dabbed the beads of perspiration from his forehead. Theirs would be a business relationship, he reminded himself. According to the studio contact, the man who’d arranged today’s meeting, this was a woman in desperate need of his professional services. They would establish a doctor-patient association. Yes, simple as that. Charles would uphold the fine reputation he’d built in Los Angeles and tend to her like he would any female client.
Why, he’d treated a number of actors and actresses, from those struggling with sexual identity issues to depressive diseases. Those famous for their cowboy roles, those noted for their singing and dancing. Even those known for the flip of their hair or their on-set tantrums.
But who was he kidding? There was no one like her. Would she notice his resemblance to Rod Taylor? Remark that his hair was lighter, but that the similarities were uncanny. Perhaps his only hope was that she¾
A knock sounded, interrupting his rambling thoughts.
Charles opened the door to his office.
And there she was.
“Miss Monroe.” He stepped aside, held out his hand to welcome her in. “Please.”
Her eyes flashed that shy but friendly grin he’d seen in her movie characters as she entered, a crème-colored shawl hugging her bare shoulders. Interesting, Charles thought, for a sultry June afternoon.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Monroe.” Charles offered his hand.
Marilyn stole a surmising glance of the room, which served as the outer room and waiting area for Charles’ practice. How he wished he’d spruced up the walls. She shook his hand, almost as if the gesture were new to her. Her pink linen dress reminded him of her outfit from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes when she sang, “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend”. This dress was shorter, sleeveless but with a high neckline, and sans gloves and diamonds.
“Thank you for seeing me, Dr….?”
Charlie reddened. “Dr. Campbell.” Hadn’t the studio contact mentioned his name to her? And as the man from the studio crossed his mind, he found it curious Marilyn had come alone; he’d expected her to be escorted, handed off almost. “May I get you anything? A glass of water perhaps?”
“No, thank you.” She smiled, sweetly yet cautiously. Charles couldn’t blame her. Here was a woman who’d been raised in turmoil, endured multiple heartbreaks and divorce, professional difficulties, much of it in the public eye. All while being rotated through various doctors.
“Would you like to sit here or in my office?”
“Wherever you’d like me.”
The lump that jumped into his throat almost knocked him unconscious.
“There is a couch in here.” He said it as his hand slid the door open to his inner office. “Well, I only mean that it’s probably more comfortable….”
He was certain he sounded lustful, perverted. Minutes into his first session and he was blowing it! Did he have any hope left of instilling confidence in her, in gaining her trust?
To his surprise she laughed. An unexpected, breathy release that made his own breathing pause. She sashayed into Charles’ inner office and seated herself on the burnt-orange couch--how he wished he’d bought a new one!--tucked her legs up beside her and leaned onto the arm.
Instinct struck Charles; he nudged his tie loose, undid the top button of his collar.
He reached for the pad of notepaper and pen on his desk, desperately hoping she hadn’t noticed his acute failure to behave better than an ordinary man.
“I know why I’m here.” She spoke with a sudden perkiness that caught Charles off guard. Many of his clients had battled resentment, denial while sitting on that couch.
“Oh?” He sat in a tufted vinyl chair across from her.
“Yes.” Her eyes were wide. Trusting. “You see, I’m dangerous.”
“Not exactly.” Her smile returned. “I know it will be hard for you to understand, and I’m not sure how much I should tell you, for your own good.”
It was too early for Charles to gauge how serious Marilyn was. Their initial encounter was still warm and clutter plagued his mind. He had to shove aside the characters she’d played, the magazine articles he’d read about her, and momentarily ignore disparaging details he’d read about her in the file from the studio contact. Charles had to figure out who Marilyn really was.
About the Author
A founding member of Sisters in Crime Columbus, Ohio (affectionately dubbed SiCCO), Mercedes King can be found elbow-deep in research, reading, or enjoying the local bike path. Combining her love of pop culture with history, she created A Dream Called Marilyn, a novella focusing on the last weeks of Marilyn's life.
O! Jackie is a fictional take on Jackie Kennedy's private life--and how she dealt with JFK's affairs. Unable to quench that thirst for Kennedys, Mercedes wrote The Kennedy Chronicles, a series of short stories featuring Jackie and Jack before the White House and before they were married.
Plantation Nation follows Emma Cartwright, a 16 year old Southern girl who disguises herself as a young man and fights for the Union Army.
To enter to win a copy of A Dream Called Marilyn (5 copies are up for grabs) or a $50 Amazon Gift Card please see the Gleam giveaway below.
Giveaway starts on April 20th at 12:01am EST and ends at 11:59pm EST on May 1st.
Giveaway is open to residents in the US only and you must be 18 or older to enter.
Winners will be chosen via GLEAM and notified via email.
Winners have 48 hours to claim prize or new winner is chosen.
Please email Amy @ firstname.lastname@example.org with any questions.