Winners! And a snippet

Thank you for entering to win the ARCs of MAGIC ON THE LINE!  I wish I had a copy to give out to each and every one of you who left a comment, but right now, I only have seven up for grabs.  So here we go.  The winners are…..

Denise Z, who said: Wow – thanks for the tweet and invite to hop over.

Corrie, who said: I would love to win this, it would literally make my entire month…thanks for offering!

Barbara Elness, who said: I’d love to win a copy of Magic on the Line, that would be awesome!

Tanya F, who said: would love to win this! just writing a list of all the books that are coming out in the next few months…

Cameron Yeager, who said: Entering on behalf of my significant other who reads this series.

Drey, who said: Pick me, PLEASE!!! *grin*

Erin Theiss, who said: This would be amazing to win thank you for the great opportunity!

Congratulations!!!  Please email me with your mailing address, and I’ll get these out as quickly as I can!

And just because I wish everyone could have won something, how about a snippet from MAGIC ON THE LINE:

Shame held up one hand.  “Save it.  I’ve already heard all the lovey-dovey out of you I can stand.  We get it.  You like her hot smokin’ bod.  Some of us don’t have a girlfriend, you know.”

“Whose fault is that?” I asked.

“What are you insinuating, Beckstrom?”

“Nothing.  How about we start driving?”

Zay stood.  “She’s insinuating that if you were ninety percent less annoying, you might get a date once in awhile.”

“It’s called character, Zayvion.  Women prefer it over that silent stalker trick you use to pick up chicks.”

“I don’t stalk women.”

“Oh?”  Shame shifted on the couch, putting his arm up over the back so he could turn to face me.  It looked like it hurt him to move that fast.  Still, he grinned and propped his chin on the back of his hand.  “Let’s find out.  Allie, I never did hear the story of how you and Zayvion met.  Do tell.”

“No,” I said as I walked into the kitchen.

“Aw, c’mon.  I’m sure it’s romantic.  A story your kids will want to hear some day.” He batted his lashes at me.

“First,” I said, coming out of the kitchen with a bag of potato chips.  “Our kids won’t want to hear it because we’re not going to have kids.  Second, no.”

“We’re not going to have kids?” Zayvion interrupted.  He sounded genuinely surprised.  “Were we going to talk about it before we made that decision?”

I was surprised he was surprised.  “I didn’t think you wanted children.  I mean, the lives we live–the stuff we do.  Hard to change diapers in the middle of a fire fight, and then there’s braces and school and…kids are messy.”

“So you decided no children.”  He was keeping his expression carefully neutral.

Had I?  No, I guess I hadn’t decided.  I’d just assumed he wouldn’t be interested.  “I didn’t really think it through,” I said.  “Do you want children?”

He paused long enough for me to realize my heart was beating a little faster.  This was more important to me than I’d let myself think about.  It was a commitment, a possibility, a future for us I hadn’t really thought was an option.   Maybe I wanted children.

But I didn’t know if we’d ever have room in our lives for that maybe to become a reality.

“I want us to talk about it,” Zayvion finally said.  “To decide.  Together.”

“So you like kids?” I asked.

“Always have,” he said softly.

“Oh.”  I didn’t know what to say.  There was something about his expression, a promise there I never expected.

“Hello?” Shame said. “Can we get back to more important things.  He was stalking you, wasn’t he?”

I stared up at the ceiling and blew out a breath of air.  “Zayvion. Make him stop.”

“I wasn’t stalking her,” Zay said.  “I was following her. And besides, that’s not the first time we met.”

“What?” I looked over at Zay.  He was pulling his jacket off of the back of the chair and shrugging into it.

“I first met you out in St. Johns,” I said.  “In Mama’s neighborhood.”

He zipped his coat.  Didn’t say anything.

“Zay,” I tried again.  “I met you in St. Johns.  You were following me.  You were working for my dad.”

“That wasn’t the first time we met.”

“See?” Shame piped in, “a good stalker won’t be seen for weeks, maybe even years.”

“Months,” Zayvion said.

“When?” I asked.  “Where?”

“I was on a job.  Undercover in Lon Tragger’s blood den.”

I frowned.  “The job I Hounded for Pike?  For his granddaughter? You were there? I don’t remember seeing you.”

“I couldn’t forget seeing you.  Covered in blood, carrying a gun and saving that girl.  Wild. Fierce.”  He put his beanie on and gave me a smile. “Very sexy.”

“Oh,” I said.  Lame, but when he looked at me like that, all I had left was lame.

“And how long did you stalk her?” Shame asked like a school teacher encouraging a child to show and tell.

“I didn’t stalk her.”  He said it to Shame, but he was still looking at me.

“How long?” I asked.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he said quietly.  “I tried.  Tried not to look for your apartment, tried not to trail you on Hounding jobs, tried not to think of you. Constantly.”

“How long?” I asked quieter.  I took a step forward and placed my hands on his chest.  I could feel his heart beating through the padding of his old coat.

“Months,” he said.  “Until I was assigned by your father to follow you.  Until I couldn’t stand it any longer.  Until I had to ask you out.  Until I knew I’d keep asking you out until you said yes.  All my life, it that’s what it took.”

“Oh,” I said again.

He leaned down and I lifted my head just the slight difference between us.  His lips were hot, soft, and found mine with loving intensity, with the sweet warm familiarity.  And I suddenly realized we’d been together long enough now, that I knew exactly what he was saying with that kiss.  How much he loved me, how much he had fallen in love with me at that very first meeting.  And how even if magic or death stood in our way, he’d find a way back to me.  Even if it took all his life to do it.

“Sweet stalker love,” Shame said.  “Maybe I have been doing it wrong, Jones.”

I pulled away, looked into Zayvion’s eyes.  “I’m glad you followed me.”

Shame sighed.  “Jesus.  I need to get laid.”

November 1, 2011