Leigh Erikson

You Tell Us!

2011-07-29T11:31:00.001-07:00

Well, we are still waiting to hear back from the publisher. We sent them a reminder and this time we got a confirmation that we would hear back in three to four weeks. Hopefully (fingers, legs, arms, and everything else crossed) they will get back to us with good news.

In the meantime, I am finishing our current WIP and Ash and I are going through our completed work in progress to get it in shape for submission as well.

BUT… while we are playing the waiting and editing game, we thought it would be great to get some writing up. So what we thought we would do is have you help us design a scene….something purely for fun and totally random.

Here's how it's going to work.

Respond to this blog post with the following information by August 10:

1. Original Hero – Give us a name, physical description, occupation (if any) and what his main trouble is.
2. Original Heroine – Same as above, name physical description, occupation (if any) and what her main trouble is.
3. Setting
4. Scenario (in one sentence)

Ashley will pick what she likes best, it may be a combination of a few entries, or just one entry, and from there we will write a scene.

Sound fun?

Let's get going!!

When Real Life Gets In The Way…and a Question.

2011-06-03T18:32:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since we posted, but it is for good reason. So rather than giving you all the excuse of real life getting the way, I thought I would just tell everyone what happened over the last few weeks.

1. The Stories – Actually the stories are moving along at quite a clip. I am finishing up our current work in progress and editing one we finished. In fact, I have been so involved in my current WIP, I have had time for little else. It is very refreshing when you can't tear yourself away from your story even if it's nearing the end J Ashley and I have also mapped out what story we are working on next.

2. Our Submission – We are still waiting to hear back regarding our submission. It takes a while so I am trying to be calm and Ashley is trying to keep me calm while we wait.

3. Ashley – Since we last updated the blog, Ashley's boyfriend has come back from the middle east and she is now engaged. I am both happy and sad to report that she is moving out of CA. The happy part is that she will be with her man, the sad part is it is away from me. But we are going to go back to what it was like at the beginning and use virtual tools to complete the stories, and now there are even better outlets now like skype and facetime!

4. Kim – My work has been truly outrageous the last month and a half. While it has been all good, it has just taken so much time that when I do get the little bit of free time I try to spend it writing. I always want us to be moving forward, and I always welcome the escape.

Well there you have it. We have been writing, getting engaged, getting ready to move, and working.

And now for the question… What you would like to see in this blog? More commentary? Outtakes?

We hope all is well with everyone!

Kim & Ash

The Waiting is the Hardest Part…

2011-03-17T20:07:00.000-07:00

I actually love that Tom Petty song, its one of my favorites, maybe because Tom Petty rocks (literally) or maybe because the waiting is the hardest part.

Well, Ash and I submitted. Our short story, our baby, our little fledgling has been let out of the nest and has traveled through cyberspace to one of our dream publishers and we are awaiting the verdict.

I have thought of many analogies for this wait…

Waiting to hear from the publisher is like….
- Waiting for test results from the doctor.
- Waiting for your last meal on death row.
- Waiting for the phone to ring when you want a guy to call you (fine, I'm married but I remember what it felt like)
- Waiting for water to boil when you're starving and all you have is macaroni and cheese and it never tastes the same when you make it in the microwave.
- Waiting to give birth when you're two weeks overdue.

A little dramatic… maybe.
A lot accurate…definitely.

I thought I could abate the anxiety of waiting by having Ashley in charge of hearing the news. Okay, she insisted she be in charge of hearing the news, but I digress. So now instead of waiting for every email, talking to Ashley is like talking to a time bomb. Every time she calls I think she has something to tell me. Though she promised she would let me know, it doesn't make the wait easier.

So there are only two outcomes to this wait.

1. They accept the story. At that point once my husband can get me to stop jumping up and down on our roof, we will head into any story revisions and celebrate!!!
2. The reject the story. At that point once I wipe a tear away from my eye, Ash and I find go on to submit elsewhere and the process continues until we finally get someone to accept us.

This whole process is sort of like wanting to be in the "cool" sorority and praying to be accepted.

Well, now that I have barreled us with enough similes to last several normal chapters of writing, I will ask that everyone put out the good ju ju for us.

On a more serious note. May our prayers be with the people in Japan at this terrible time. They are handling this situation with grace and bravery.

Websites, Computers and Hard Drives…Oh My!

2011-01-09T20:07:00.000-08:00

So, just like all of us who are addicted to our computers, I admit to having a dysfunctional, co-dependent relationship with the silicon chips. I am convinced they are real, living beings with emotion, reasoning and a sense of love for their owner.

Which is why I felt so betrayed when my beloved Touchsmart turned on me.

Not even a year ago, I bought an HP Touchscreen computer. Some of you may remember reading about it. It was beautiful, a shiny black, large screen and minimal cords. The latest the computer world had to offer. It was built for me, with 8 mb of Ram and a 1 Terabyte hard drive, and people gathered around to see the wonder. I was a happy girl.

Yes, there were the naysayers who told me I would never use the touchscreen, but I aimed to prove them wrong, insisting I learn how to use it, and trying not to make a mess out of the computer.

I really believe this computer hated me from day one. We were like a passive aggressive relationship. Some days were amazing, we skipped together hand and ram through cobblestone streets, me crafting my stories, the computer spinning its hard drive. Some days were horrible, the computer mocked me, not allowing me to touch its elusive screen, freezing up, or randomly giving me errors.

Last Saturday, it started. I really should have seen the signs, but I chose to ignore what I didn’t want to see.

It froze. It was an unexpected move as we had been chugging along together quite nicely. I lost a paragraph of my story, but I took a breath and restarted, skipping safe mode and taking a chance.

Oh, I was wrong, so wrong.

The computer froze again. Its cursor never flinching, never blinking, sitting stoic in the middle of my screen unresponsive to any click of the mouse. I sent for backup and got my husband – he works in the industry, he could reason with the machine, he could fix it. He restored the system to an earlier date, after two tries, it worked. We all breathed a sigh of relief, I went back to writing, the computer went back to spinning.

All was fine. Fine until Tuesday when everything changed.

Tuesday, I came home from a late night at work. Tired yet restless, I sat down to answer some emails, peruse facebook and possibly write a bit before going to bed.

The computer froze.

I took its slight in stride, restarted, and tried again.

The second time it froze, I held the tears back.

The third time it froze, I called for my husband and wrung my hands waiting for the verdict.

When it froze a fourth time, and he told me to find every flash drive in the house to back up what we could, I came unglued.

My husband acted fast, got the stories first, and then the rest of the documents, but the computer buzzed its final buzz before we could get my emails or my music. He presented me with three flash drives which represented my digital life and didn’t look me in the eye as he unplugged the machine and quietly took it away so I didn’t have to gaze upon the carcass.

Yes, the computer had a warranty, but my husband has been with me for 18 years and he knew what would happen. Much like a jilted lover, I would never trust the Touchsmart again.

We had a rational discussion, if rational means me crying and him trying to console me, and we decided that the best course of action for me would be to get a new computer.

Wednesday I went to the Apple store.

The pure white interior beckoned to me like a little bit of heaven. They truly understood while I explained my plight. They took me in as one of their own, set me up with all the accessories, patted my head, gave me a glass of juice (apple, of course) and sent me on my way.

Many years ago I had a mac – now after three days its like being back home. A strange and wonderful home, but nevertheless, home. Unlike the Touchsmart, this computer embraced me, coddled me and yet did it in quiet elegance.

Yes, I now have an iMac. After four glorious days in the world where viruses don’t exist and technical support is only a simple, pleasant phone call away, I understand the cult this company has created. Fine, I admit it, I’m so in love I’m ready to start handing out pamphlets to random people walking down the street.

So, what does any of this have to do with writing or Leigh Erikson?

I will tell you.

Ashley and I now have a new and improved website!

There are small changes, the background, the buttons, the text, but I am proud that it is improving. We worked hard to learn the programs, and I invite all of you to please come and check it out at www.leigherikson.com

Oh, wait, you want to know what happened to the Touchsmart? Well, The HP is now going back to wherever they send wayward PC’s to be refurbished. Hopefully the hard drive can be recovered, but when it comes back it will be my husband’s new machine. I have convinced myself and my checkbook that this was truly a win-win situation and I pray he uses the touchscreen!

All my best - Kim
P.S. the picture at the top is of me, my son and my puppy taken with the new addition to the family.

Fired Up - Grand Prize Winner

2010-12-20T20:35:00.001-08:00

First and foremost, both Ashley and I would like to thank everyone who took the time out to read and comment on our blog story.

Right now we are both working diligently on getting ready to submit to some publishers and we are updating the website - that will be a separate post!

Our grand prize winner is

(drum roll)

DeFatGnome!

I feel like we personally know her!

She is winning the Emmett and Jordan Gift Basket which includes...
Beanie Weanies
Trail Mix
A Gift Card for Pizza
and a copy of Phantom Variations

Please email us with your address, etc.

Again, thank you all. It meant a lot to us to see so many familiar faces.

We will be doing regular blog updates so keep us in mind.

All our best,

Kim & Ash

Fired Up Final Chapter

2010-12-06T21:55:00.000-08:00

Hi all, well we’ve come to the end of this story and before I say anything else, I would like to thank everyone who has read it and commented and supported us!

Our weekly winner is Katy! Congrats! Email us and we will get your prize to you.

On another note, please comment and in about a week Ash and I will pull a grand prize winner. (We have a whole thing prepared that I am very excited about). Check the blog to find out if you're a winner.

Once again, thank you, thank you!

Question at the end :-)
Kim & Ash

Fired Up Chapter 16

"I bet it's snowing in the mountains." Sad water droplets clung to the window in Jordan's office trying to hang on before they fell to their deaths.

"Probably, it's been raining for five days straight." Her assistant darted into the office and headed for the filing cabinet.

"You know what's good?" Jordan cupped her hand around the side of her face reminding herself not to look out the window. Like the raindrops her heart fell, but not before it made an effort to grip her chest and hold on.

"What would that be?"

"This office is much closer to my apartment than the old building."

Her assistant nodded.

"And this place isn't nearly as crowded, you don't have to wait to get on the elevator."

"That is a plus."

"Yes." She put her elbow on her desk. "This is a good job."

"This was a needed job."

The two women caught eyes.

Yes, she settled. Scared to go out on her own, she took a job which basically allowed her to push papers and not hurt anyone. Even with carte blanche at her new firm, she needed to ratchet back on the deals she wanted to make, upon further analysis they weren’t viable.

“Are you going to the senior center tonight?”

Jordan nodded. She loved her work at the local charity, helping seniors do their financial planning.

A boom of thunder forced her to turn toward the window. "I bet the snow is really coming down in the mountains."

"Yes, you mentioned that."

"I hope no one gets trapped." Her voice dropped, joining her heart and the rain somewhere on the ground.

"Are you suffering from post traumatic stress disorder?"

Without answering she redirected her eyes to the calendar. Three weeks.

Three weeks to the date Emmett turned canned food into gourmet cuisine. They danced. They talked. They made love. He claimed they were together.

Last she heard Emmett was still in her old job. She avoided any further details. Still, her mind focused on those five days more than she wanted. "I don't think its post traumatic stress disorder." She didn't want to name her ailment.

"Maybe you should call him." Her assistant sat down. "That day when I gave him the letter…"

Jordan held her hand up. If Emmett wanted her as he claimed, he would have called, stopped by, or something. "We don't run in the same circles."

"Pizza!" A man's voice yelled from the front office.

"Did you order a pizza?" Jordan stood up.

"No." Her assistant rushed out, returning a moment later with a huge flat square box that represented everything delicious. "This was no charge."

The smell of garlic, sauce and cheese wafted through the room. Only one odor was better, and Jordan vowed to avoid that particular scent every time she went to the mall. "From who?"

“I don’t know.” Her assistant put the box in the center of the desk.

Jordan lifted the tab. "Oh."

"That's disgusting." The woman peeked over. "Who would eat that?"

Along with the pepperoni, onions and mushrooms the pizza was decorated with nuts, raisins and melting M&Ms. Trail mix.

Only one person would have sent this and she covered her mouth with her hand, pressing down hard, not sure what she was trying to keep down. Her pride, tears, vomit?

"Let me get rid of this." Her assistant closed the box.

Jordan stopped her, not sure if the trail mix was meant to lead her somewhere, or meant to tease her. Then she spotted the receipt taped to the top. "Hold on." She ripped the paper off.

"Does it say who sent this?" Her assistant stood to her side. "What's EJI?"
“I don’t know.” She read the receipt. Those letters weren’t his initials and she wasn’t sure if this was his new place of business or something else. Aside from the letters the only other items on the receipt were her address as the place of delivery, and a different billing address. "I have to go." She grabbed her purse and struggled with her coat.

"What?" Her assistant helped her get into the unruly garment. "Where are you going?"

She dashed out. "To follow a trail."
***
When Jordan drove up to the small unimpressive two story office building, her heart gave up. The poor organ began clawing its way back into its rightful spot in her chest when the pizza arrived, but now after being led into a questionable neighborhood, it surrendered, waving its white cells in an attempt to end the war.

Well, her heart may have retreated, but she needed to go on the offensive. How dare he lure her right into his joke? Was he watching right now smiling at the fact she arrived, came running at the first contact? Maybe the best thing to do was leave, but in order to end this she had to confront him, remind herself what he was and get the dream man in the cabin out of her mind.

She didn't even bother with an umbrella and got out of the car in the rain. By the time she located the cheap directory with the easily changeable plastic letters and stomped up the stairs to the EJI office on the second floor she was dripping, her toes sinking into the lining of her shoes, her hair curling and she sensed her makeup ran down her face.

Nevertheless, she pushed on the door, slipping and catching herself on the handle. The damn door opened backwards. Giving it another try, she pulled the door, flinching as if she were taking the top off of one of those trick cans of nuts and waiting for a million fake snakes hurl themselves at her.

Instead she stepped inside and her soaking stiletto crunched down on something in the doorway, and she lifted her foot.
A cashew.

In fact, looking down and across the stark office with only a tattered faux wood desk, a trail of cashews, almonds, peanuts, dried fruit and M&M’s littered the floor, exactly like the toppings on the pizza. "Emmett?"

The office remained silent. Her whole body trembled as she followed the trail mix behind the desk where someone taped the goodies up to the main desk drawer. This place was in need of decorating. Why was she here?

Right now the answer was to open the drawer, and closing her eyes she slid it out, the sound of the cheap particle board scratching against the metal fittings vibrating through her teeth.
She opened her eyes. No more trail mix, no pens or pencils, or the obligatory paperclip or broken rubber band. Only one item was in the desk, and she picked up the business card.

"EJI. Investment solutions with a conscience." She read the front of the card and swallowed when her throat dried out. "EJI."

"I went with our first name initials. I only put mine first because JEI sounded weird and I didn't want people trying to sound the letters out thinking they made a word. But don't let it fool you I know who will be running the ship."

"Emmett." She put the card to her chest giving her heart something to hold on to and turned. There he stood, leaning against the door jamb in jeans and a blue button down. Hair spiked up, naughty grin on his lips and those eyes.

He tilted his head. "I know it's not a lot, and we're both used to better, but I'm thinking we can decorate and for the most part we can go to our account sites until we can move."

"We?" Her mind didn't want to work especially when his cologne reached her nose. She couldn't smell that scent and not want to fling herself in his direction.

"Originally I was going to have the trail lead to me." He straightened up.

"Why didn't you?"

"I didn't deserve it." He stepped toward her. "I never gave you anything definite. I never said I would quit, I never said I wouldn't fire you, I never said I would follow you."

"No, you didn't." She turned to the floor.

"Well, I did quit and I never would have fired you, and I should have followed you, but since I didn't I had to get you to come to me."

His shoes came into view and she felt him right next to her. The air changed when he was near, electricity and passion followed him.

"You know what else I didn't do?" He took her chin, guiding her face up to his.

Her mouth watered after three weeks of being deprived of his touch, his taste. Not able to meet his eyes she focused on his lips. "What didn't you do?"

"I never said I fell in love with you, I only told you I thought I was falling in love with you."

"You never told me that." She grabbed his arm, support to stop the room from spinning out from under her.

"Well, I told the lady at the gas station, but I thought it was you." He wrapped his arm around her. "But either way, I am in love with you, no thinking required."

His lips met hers before she spoke, and then she didn't need to say anything. She let him hold her up while their tongues came together and she sampled his taste, unique to Emmett and designed to make her want more.

"Jordan." He ended the kiss with a moan, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I love you too." The words left her mouth and she didn't want them back. "I didn't mean to leave you like I did. I wanted to do the right thing."

"It was right." He kissed her again. "You had to. I needed to see that all those amenities and that car meant nothing without you."

“I should have listened to you when you tried to help me, I didn’t want to face the fact that I still had a job to do. I was too extreme.” This was the first time she ever said that aloud.

"But you believed in something, and now we can take it and make it into something.” He took a breath. “I want you to believe in me that way.”

"I do believe in you, I didn’t want to trust myself." A welcome sensation encompassed her face when she found herself smiling.

"We'll combine the best of us and make it happen." He held her tight. "This is our reality."

"EJI, I like it." She lifted the card and read it again. “EJI?”

"Yes…" He prodded.

"Don't firms normally go with their last names?"

"I couldn't do that without your permission."

"Why?" She ran her nail over the raised letters on the card, their office may be shabby but the cards were first class.

"Because I think yours needs to change soon."

"Oh." Her cheeks heated, hating the way even the idea of marrying him excited her.

“Wait, that was wrong.” He held his hand up.

The tears welled up in her eyes instantly and she blinked to clear her vision.

"What I meant to say is your last name needs to change very soon. I don’t think it, I know it.” He laughed.

She hid her face in his shoulder. "Well then maybe we should get to work. Lang's tend to be very fierce in the industry."

“Jordan Lang does have that certain tone every investment specialist needs and maybe sometimes people will think you’re me and I’ll have a perfect track record."

"I love you." She held on.

He picked her up and headed toward the door. "Before we start, we're going on vacation."

"But…" She let her own voice trail off. Vacation with Emmett was a much better option than working.

"Yes. Call it a company retreat. We're going off to the mountains." He kissed her. "I hear there's a ton of snow."

The End

How did you like it?

Fired Up Chapter 15

2010-11-20T09:34:00.000-08:00

Hello all. Few things before we get going.
First and foremost I would like to congratulate my best friend and writing partner, the other half of Leigh Erikson for passing the bar!!! She passed it first time out, and I think that’s just great she is a real Esq. now! So Ash-Congrats!!

Second, we are nearing the end of our story, not this time but soon. Please keep the comments coming as we have a pretty cool grand prize.

Third, our chapter winner is Anonymous – Not the first one who won a while back but our new one, and I know who you are from your private message to us so I will get your prize to you.

Lastly, we are having the same contest this chapter so please let us know how you like this.

I have a question at the end of the chapter…enjoy and thank you for your support.

Kim

Fired Up Chapter 15

The sting radiating up through Emmett's palm from hitting Lawrence's door open stopped him for only a moment. He glanced down to see his appendage red and angry, matching his mood.

"Both of my executives made it down off the mountain." Lawrence swiveled around and pointed to the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

With the way his teeth ground together he was sure he would be left with nothing but pulverized powder in his mouth. He rushed into the office. "Where is she?"

"Was."

"What do you mean was?"

"She was here, but she left."

He faced his boss.

"Boy did I have her wrong." Lawrence put his fingertips together and tilted his chair back. "I forgot what she could do."

He attempted to avoid the obvious thought of he also knew exactly what Jordan could do, instead opting to retrieve his phone out of his pocket before going to the chair and sitting down.

Lawrence stared up to the ceiling with a slight shake of his head. "Three years ago I hired a spitfire who disappeared three months ago, and I saw her return today."

He found his eyes heading straight for the screen on his phone. Seventeen emails and four texts. The texts from his mother revealed she now knew how to perform a mass text, and proved her point by sending several jokes circa 2001. His emails still spoke of male enhancement peppered with offers to buy insurance. He didn't need insurance, but after Jordan he wasn't sure about the other. "Now what?"

"Five days trapped with someone she hated did her a world of good."

He shoved his useless phone into his pocket. "She said she hated me?"

"She's too professional for that." Lawrence shrugged his shoulders. "If she acted like she just did a month ago, you wouldn't be here now."

He avoided having any reaction, the man stated a fact. "What about now?"

"Maybe you should get to work." The good-old-boy tone of voice Lawrence normally used with him vanished.

Emmett stood to leave. The exit far away and small, seemed to move further away with every step he took. When at last the door was in his grasp, he stopped. "Where's Jordan?" This meeting was supposed to be him rescuing her, promising their boss they would work together. She would stare at him with those amber eyes and tonight they would go out, celebrate their success and end up in a much less rural place to make love with a full stash of condoms. He rolled his eyes back in his head.

"She quit, my secretary will direct you to her old office."

The cords in his neck seized, wanting to break. "I'll get to work."

"I hope you got all the information you needed from her, I wouldn't want to think you completely failed at the first assignment I gave to you."

He glanced back at Lawrence as he left. His boss remained reclined back on his chair. He had nothing this man needed.

A woman in a conservative brown suit met him on his way out and he was led away, his workplace the sick quiet of a doctor's waiting room.

“I hear you have a cat.” He smiled at her.

The secretary ignored his remark and pointed to the end of the corridor. "A new sign has been ordered."

He walked alone glad he didn’t buy any chocolate for Lawrence and found himself standing in the doorway unable to fully enter his new domain. This wasn't quite the beginning he envisioned. The whispers he heard were supposed to be of fear and admiration, not pity and secrets. He inhaled some courage, making sure to keep his head high.

How was it possible that her scent still lingered in the space, loitering like an unwanted solicitor outside a supermarket? Floral, spicy, Jordan. An aroma he would never forget. For one second he was transported back to a cabin, snowed in, no technology and a frightened beauty who needed him.

"Mr. Lang?"

Before turning to his intruder he studied the office. She left everything here, her mug, her pictures, even some cards. She quit her job, quit him and ran. Her crusade didn’t include him. "Yes?" He faced a woman in dress pants and a simple shirt holding a file box and an envelope.

"Ms. Paxton wanted me to give this to you. She said to make sure to hand it to you personally." She held out the envelope.

"And you are?" He took her offering.

"I am Ms. Paxton's assistant." A weak, sorry smile overtook her face.

She didn't give him her name. "So my assistant?" He hardened his tone, took charge. Maybe this woman could help him piece together the shambles he created.

"Oh no, I'm leaving too." She tiptoed passed him. "I work very well with Ms. Paxton. You'll probably want to choose your own assistant."

He never had an assistant who followed their boss. Most were happy to see him leave and he watched her glide around the room putting Jordan's personal items in the box.

"She wanted you to open that before I left." She pointed at him.

He wanted to tell this person he didn't listen to commands of former employees, but he found his fingers tearing at the flap and pulling out several pieces of yellow folded paper.

Right before him in Jordan's beautiful script, was the answer to each of his questions. She wrote down her lead list, contacts, phone numbers and notes, going out of her way to tell him the things which made her such a contender in this field. It was as if he would have her sitting on his shoulder, whispering her secrets in his ear.

"Why did she do this?" Her answers left only more questions as he flipped through the pages once more.

"Do you have any questions?"

He tore at the pages, crumbling the sheets in his hand, turning them over and tossing them aside when nothing new appeared. Was this a trick? Her last sucker punch? "Not any you can answer." He grabbed the envelope and turned it over. A tiny piece of small pink paper fluttered to the flat pile beige rug.

"Then I'm all done here." The woman passed him with her box, pausing and glancing down at the small slip before leaving.

Alone he picked up the paper. He didn't even want to read it, but couldn't stop himself.

E-
Five days that never would have happened in the real world. Thank you for backwards land.
J

“No thank yous.” He read the letter one more time before squeezing it in his fist. She saved him like she wanted to save everyone, but she wasn’t here and he didn’t need her. "I need to get to work." He tossed the note in the garbage.

Who is hurting more, Emmett or Jordan?

Fired Up Chapter 14

2010-11-07T20:23:00.001-08:00

Hi All,
First and foremost thank you for all your support. Second, sorry this update was long in coming, but life got in the way. On another note, Ash and I had a really awesome critique session with a very renowned person in the writing field and we are very excited about the outcome.

Our winner this time is Jessica! Please email us for your prize.

Question coming at the end of the chapter, and as we are nearing the end of our tale in the next couple of installments, please remember that we will be having a grand prize!

All our best and enjoy – Kim and Ash.

Fired Up Chapter 14

Between this gas station and the office Emmett was going to have to get Jordan to forgive him. He handled this situation entirely wrong. Relationships didn’t come easy for him, he never committed himself, but with Jordan he wanted to, which is why he got irate before.

Rehearsing what he was going to say, he put the gas cap back on right as a touch appeared on his shoulder. He put his hand over Jordan's, holding her tight. There was no denying the chemistry between them, a jolt went through him at the mere thought of any part of her body touching his. Now he possessed every answer. Before turning around, he needed to tell her something. "I know this is fast and insane, but I think I'm falling in love with you."

With the words out, he exhaled, his chest liberated of the sandbag which weighed him down and soaked up his emotions. He went to take her into his arms, kiss her and tell her they would make this work.

She didn’t say a word, didn’t move. His jubilation waned and he turned.

One slit of an eye and a set of flared nostrils met him in the form of a rotund older woman.

"You're not Jordan." In case this woman wasn't aware, he decided to inform her. Along with every other sensation coursing through his body, a new one cropped up, starting in his chest and heading down, tugging at him. Where was Jordan anyway?

"No, and we have a problem with your credit card." She spun on her heel and returned to the store.

Without caring about the credit card issue, he ran past the woman into an empty store. "Jordan!" Now that he let the words out, he wanted to say them to the correct woman.

"No one is here." The woman trundled around him and made her way behind the counter.

"Yes, a woman came in here to use the bathroom." He rushed toward the bathroom door and knocked. "Jordan!" Did she get sick? The tugging turned into a full-fledged yank. "Jordan!"

"I told you, no one else is here."

"She came in here, I watched her." He twisted around to find the woman holding up the bathroom key.

He scanned the store, and instead of Jordan all he found was the soda, the beef jerky, the cigarettes, the candy bars, outside only their rental car at the pump. He held up a finger while he performed the most natural reaction in the world by reaching for his wallet. "There's no problem with my card."

The woman's silence said everything.

"Where did she go?" He stalked to the counter, unfolding his wallet and retrieving the one item guaranteed to make anyone speak, or flee. He learned that lesson too many times to count, why did he forget the rules when they mattered most?

He put the money on the counter and when she didn't answer he added some more. "How much did she give you to delay me?"

She shut her eyes. "Did you mean what you said?"

"What was that?" He breathed in allowing his mind to focus. Nothing mattered but what he held in his hand, a hard learned lesson. Did she assume she would win now? Beat him to Lawrence and show him her savvy swagger to win her job back?

"That you thought you were falling in love with her."

"Does it matter?" He never said those words about a woman or to a woman before, and they didn’t matter. What mattered now were his amenities and his German automotive wonder waiting for him back home.

She held the money out to him. "Don't ever tell a woman you think you love her, either you do or you don't."

"I need to get back to Los Angeles."

"Your money." The woman called after him.

He waved on his way out. "I'll get more, I have a great job."

Should Emmett immediately

Fired Up Chapter 13

2010-10-23T12:45:00.001-07:00

Hi All, thank you for your amazing support, there is a little more to the story, so please keep commenting as we will be having a grand prize at the end, and every comment ever gets an entry!

We will be running the same contest this week and our winner this time is…Susan!
Congrats and email us for your prize.

Thank you again and enjoy! There is a question at the end of the chapter :-)

Kim & Ash

Fired Up Chapter 13

The entire car reeked of Emmett Lang. On the way up to the mountains the car smelled like him. It was the odor of anger and challenge, something she was able to handle. The cabin also smelled like him, but it changed from anger and challenge to lust, safety and want. Now with the car wafting his cologne to her nostrils, the scent was failure and sadness.

She hit the window at the dreaded word. It wasn’t possible to love someone in five days. It wasn’t love, it was only the fact that she thought this was something more.

“Shut up,” she yelled at her mind.

“I didn’t say anything.” Emmett clasped the steering wheel. “You told me to stop talking five miles ago.”

She didn’t want him to stop talking as much as she wanted to ask him why he did this. Why take her job and her heart? She would be able to find another job. "Do you mind pulling over? I need to go to the bathroom." She exhaled trying to rid her body of his scent, to get any remnants of the cabin out of her body.

"Why don’t we pull over and grab a bite while we talk?" Emmett's tone was soft and muted which didn't fit him.

Without any fanfare she reached into her purse and pulled her reconstructed trail mix, putting the bag on the center console of the car. When her lips quivered at the memory of Emmett figuring out why they called it trail mix, she mashed them together trying to hurt them for being disobedient.

"Jordan." He held the bag up, turning to her. "Come on."

"I really have to use the restroom." Were they that in tune with each other that they needed to have the same internal monologue?

"Of course, I'll fill up." He pulled off at the first small gas station.

The car didn't stop before she opened the door and got out, rushing around the few scant gas pumps and almost banging into a taxi cab getting gas as she headed straight for the small convenience store.

She took the restroom key off the counter and stood in the middle of the store watching Emmett. If she didn't know him she would be admiring his looks and walking back out to her own car hoping to get a glance or a nod from him.

The problem was she did know him. Even on the small chance this wasn’t some master scheme to get her to lower her defenses, they weren’t together.

In Emmett’s world, a rocky fledgling romance versus a well paying job wasn't a choice to make. He never offered to stand by her, only offered to talk to Lawrence. In Emmett’s world what she was trying to do was a waste of time because those deals didn’t contribute to the bottom line.

She paced the aisles stopping in a row displaying some auto parts. Oil, air freshener and coolant. Life would be much easier if she worked here, of course, pretty soon she may be applying here. For the last six months she wanted to do what she felt was right, wanted to try something different. She never told anyone, simply forged ahead stopping everything else to the point where she lost her job.

She lost her job.

She lost her job. Emmett didn’t lose it for her and she turned and watched him again.

He walked between the pumps kicking the ground, raising his arms, letting them fall and slap his sides.

Amazing sex, chemistry, connection didn't matter, this wasn't right and wasn't what Emmett wanted. He only started his job, her time there was over. Their time was over. If she wanted to make a difference, she could start with a charity, exactly as Emmett suggested. He was with her when she needed him most.

She needed to get to Lawrence first. Do the right thing, make it easy.

The bell on the door chimed and an older man came inside. "I'm going up the mountain to see if anyone needs a ride after the snow storm."

The woman behind the counter nodded. "It's been a mess, five days."

Emmett was bent over taking the chains off the tires.

"Yeah, we may have some people not used to the weather." The man chose a soda. "Stranded folks."

"I'm stranded!" Jordan didn't realize she spoke until both the woman and the man turned to her. "Yes!" She slid toward them, reaching into her purse and taking out her wallet.

"Honey, I saw you get out of the car with that man." The woman pointed out the window.

She dragged her teeth across her lower lip, giving the woman a dose of her huge eyes, any female would understand the signal.

"Is something wrong?" The woman leaned forward.

She tilted her head without answering and focused on the man. "How much to get me back to Los Angeles right now?"

"Well, I can quote you a flat rate."

At last her edge returned. A welcome cut through her as she formulated her plan. "If I double your fee, can you get me there before that man?"

The man shifted his eyes over to the woman.

Jordan guided her hand into her wallet and found some bills, placing them on the counter. "Maybe you wouldn't mind helping delay my friend?"

At first the woman narrowed her eyes, but finally nodded. "The good looking ones are always trouble." She took the money, patting Jordan's hand in the process.

"I don't want him to see me leave." She whispered to her driver.

"Sweetie, you go through the back, John will meet you over there."

"Don’t worry." The driver smiled at her and left.

"Go on." The woman tapped some buttons on her cash register. "I'll make sure you have plenty of time."

"Thank you." Not caring about her luggage or computer, Jordan dashed out the back. She lifted her phone and started running through the contacts. By the time she reached Los Angeles she would have a new job, a new life and a new charity.

Question: Should Jordan have let Emmett talk to her?

Fired Up Chapter 12

2010-10-08T20:00:00.000-07:00

Hi all,
It is sales meeting time, so I am in my traditional rush, but I want to get this chapter up before the event! Our winner this week is Michped! Please email me and we will get your prize to you. Once again, please keep commenting as we will have a grand prize winner at the end, and be running the contest next week. Let me know if you want to be on email alerts as well. Thank you all for your amazing support. There is a question at the end.

Fired Up Chapter 12

Wood ceiling, wood floor, wood walls. Everywhere Emmett looked was draped in nothing but wood. He wouldn’t even start on the wood in his pants, Jordan took care of him, but with no condoms he was unsatisfied. Instead he focused on the one wood he hated most. The wood door.

He decided no matter what, they were leaving today. The cabin had done its job.
His stomach twisted, clenching hard enough to make him want to double over. The cabin may have done its job of bringing him and Jordan together, but he didn’t do his job and he wasn’t planning on it.

Since he refused to fire his now girlfriend, he was forced to use other tactics. If he could get Jordan to stop her crusade he might be able to buy some time with Lawrence.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Jordan swept past him leaving a trail of her freshly washed hair behind her. She went right to the door.

“Babe!” He rushed behind her with enough time to catch her falling backwards.

She glanced back at him. “Have I told you I hate this door?”

“You and me both.” He righted her. “Remember it’s backwards.”

“It’s backwards.” She covered her face with her hands.

“What’s wrong?” She wasn’t allowed to break down, he had too much work to save them and she couldn’t suspect anything.

“Maybe once we leave everything will be the way it should be and in here everything’s backwards.” She stepped away shaking her head.

He took a moment to make sure he understood and went up behind her. “I don’t think this cabin is some portal to a backwards world.”

“You don’t?” She spread her fingers apart and peeked at him.

“I really don’t.” If this were a backwards world she would be worried about trying to save his job, not the other way around.

“Okay.” Still, her brow furrowed and her nose wrinkled.

He knelt down. “Do you believe me?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe you wouldn’t know if this were some portal.”

“So what happens in regular land? We hate each other again?” The question was meant as a joke, but when she frowned, pursing out her lower lip, he realized this wasn’t funny. “Jordan?”

“I hate that I believe this. I hate being a girl.” She stomped her foot.

“Well, I like that you are, and you happen to be the one girl I’ve ever cared about this much.”

Her eyes became huge and the frown reversed ever so slightly. “That’s not true.”

She wanted to milk this, and he would let her. “It’s very true. I don’t really know what to do with you.” He wished he was able to tell her that he cared about her so much he was willing to risk his job for her, but he cared too much to tell her.

“I can think of at least one thing.” Her eyes half-closed and she titled her chin up.

Needing some fortification, he kissed her. Wood again. They had to get out of there. “First stop, drug store.” He was going to buy the place out of condoms and spend the night using them with reckless abandon.

“Emmett.” She turned red.

“I have been deprived too long.”

“It’s been less than twenty four hours.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Let’s get going and after I’ve secured the most important ration, we’ll get some pizza so you have energy.” Tomorrow he would deal with Lawrence. He deserved one more day of denial.

“I was hoping we could make it back to the office today, there are some files I wanted to show you.” She wiped her lipstick off his mouth with her thumb. “Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll share my lead list with you.”

He stood, letting her hand fall to her side. Not only was she reminding him of what he didn’t accomplish, but now she wanted to go to the office. He needed to talk to Lawrence before she showed up with him.

“Here’s the game plan.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and began pacing across the room. “You grab your files while I get a couple of things done and we’ll analyze what we can do to contain the damage.” He tried to arrange the pieces of this game in his head. Before they stepped out he needed to decide which move to make.

“Excuse me?” Jordan went up to him. “What damage?”

“All these sour deals, we need to figure out how to dump them or turn them around and have a list of work in progress.” He turned and pointed at her. If he could go to Lawrence and show him how he turned Jordan around and offer to closely manage her, he may be able to save them both.

“These are good deals. We’re just dealing with a new concept.” She planted her hands on her hips.

“They’re not and you know it.”

“Emmett, you said you would help me, if you don’t want to then let me be.” The flush on her face dissipating.

“I am helping you, and right now my help consists of telling you to stop these insane notions.” He squared his shoulders and moved closer to her.

She followed suit, straightening her spine and meeting his eyes. “I need to do this. I have to do something good.”

“Then find a charity.” He spat the words at her and stared up at the damn wood ceiling.

“You don’t understand.” Her voice lowered.

“It’s you who doesn’t understand.”

“You’re right I don’t understand a lot of things.” She exhaled, her breath sounding as if it wanted to flee lungs. “I don’t understand you.”

Since the second he decided he wanted Jordan Paxton he laid everything out for her and was only met with doubts and mistrust, and this was the final blow. He balled his fists wanting to hit something, maybe all the stupid wood in this godforsaken place. “You don’t understand a lot of things. You don’t understand what it’s like to be without a job.” He swallowed before he said anything further.

“Emmett.” She reached out for him. “I didn’t know.”

“You will if you don’t listen to me.” He stepped away from her touch, raising his arms and grinding his teeth together.

“What?” She rushed to him. “What do you mean?”

“No. Nothing.” He stumbled and froze, his body turning rigid. If he hit the ground he would shatter them both. He made no move in fear it would give anything else away.

“What do you know?” She stayed planted in front of him. “Why are you really here?”

“Remember, you were supposed to train me.” After the words left his mouth he raised his hands.

She laughed, not a happy laugh, or even a forced laugh. This type of laugh told him she figured everything out. “So I was to train my own replacement.” She nodded. “Brilliant.”

“Jordan.” He held his hand out to her.

“Don’t touch me.” She spun on her heel and retrieved her computer bag.

“Listen, I’m going to talk to Lawrence.” His body went from freezing to burning, perspiration chilling and stinging his skin, she wasn’t supposed to find out.

“Did Lawrence tell you to sleep with me?” She cleared her throat. “Please don’t answer that.”

“How can you say that?”

She turned her back to him, but he could tell by her hand motions she was wiping her eyes. “I can say it because it’s true.”

“After everything, this is what you are choosing to believe?” He walked around the front of her. “I told you I was going to talk to Lawrence he needs to know what you were trying and that it can be undone.”

She wiped her hand across her brow. “Emmett, this is something I believe in.”

“It’s not good business.”

“For you.” She smiled, a thin unemotional line strewn across her face. “I have what I need to do, and it’s bigger than a commission.”

“We can work this out by the time we make it down the mountain.” They were supposed to be together. “We have to fight for this.”

“Haven’t you heard? I lost my fight.” She graced him with another round of that horrible laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t make a scene or hurt your new job.”

“I don’t care about the job.”

“Yes you do, and it’s okay.” She took the handle of her suitcase. “I’m still not giving you my lead list.”

“I don’t want your list.” He set his jaw, resisting the urge to grab and shake her.

“Tell that to Lawrence.” She raised her eyebrows. “I suppose since you think I’m such a joke you wouldn’t be using any of the crappy information I gave you anyways.”

“Do you think I would do that?”

Her eyes took him in, starting at his feet and traveling up to his face. “It seems to me you will do just about anything to get what you want.”

He watched her walk to the door, pushing the barrier open with ease.

“Thank God they plowed, now we can go.” She turned back to face him and stepped out. “You lied, we were in backwards land.”

Question – What would Emmett have to do to gain your trust if you were in this situation?

Fired Up Chapter 11

2010-09-27T20:06:00.001-07:00

Hi all, sorry this post is a little late. Ash and I have been working to get something out, and she informed me that I needed to add a scene which through me for a loop and I have my sales meeting coming up which takes up a lot of my time. On another note, I was inspired by Ash and adopted a soldier, so this weekend we made him a really cool Halloween care package and I crocheted him a scarf and a hat. Yes, I crochet, I admit it.

Okay, on to the fun!
1. Thank you for all your support
2. Our winner is Terwhite – Congrats – email us and you will get your prize.
3. Same contest this week.
4. Gearing up for the big grand prize (We already started buying some stuff for it!) So keep commenting.
5. Question at the end.
Above all else, enjoy!

Fired Up Chapter 11
“Emmett, what are you doing?” She needed to tell him something. Something he wasn’t going to like. While others may call her news an issue to be discussed among two adults, Emmett would classify this as first class emergency of grand proportions.

“I’m creating art, don’t move.” Emmett smiled down at his handy work. “I finally figured out why they call it trail mix.”

Trying not to jostle his masterpiece, Jordan glanced at her stomach. A cashew, walnut, almond, raisin, peanut and four blue M&M’s paved a path down her torso. “Before you tell me, there’s something I want to tell you.”

“No, I have to go first. We’re dealing with perishable ingredients.” He scooped up the cashew from between her breasts with his tongue. “If I start here and follow the trail down, I’ll be led to what I really want.” With raised eyebrows he traveled to the walnut and then the almond.

Before he made his way to the raisin she would have to let her news out, but his teeth grazed her flesh and she arched her back causing the treats to fall off to her sides, ruining his work. “Emmett.” They had to stop anyway.

“Hey, now how am I supposed to know where to go?” He slinked up next to her and kissed her cheek.

“I don’t think you have any problem with that issue, but…” He silenced her with an M&M.

“Let me show you the way.” He rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him.

She put her fingers over lips. “Emmett Aaron Lang, I have to tell you something very important.”

He met her eyes and she watched them go from playful and full of desire to wide and terrified. “You’re pregnant!”

“I am?” She shot off him, almost rolling off the bed in her pursuit to get away from the man who impregnated her.

“Are you?” He caught her and dragged her back on the bed, taking her shoulders and forcing her to face him. “Jordan Marie Paxton.”

“Hold on.” She breathed in allowing oxygen to reach her brain. “No, I’m not.”

They both exhaled.

“But…” Now what she had to tell him didn’t seem nearly as horrible.

“No but, I’ll take the no.” He leaned back on the pillows and flung his hand over his eyes.

She pursed her lips, not sure why his reaction annoyed her, but it did, it was probably her uterus announcing its vacancy. Now she would fire her blow. “We have only one condom left.”

He moved his hand away, his face turning pale as he sat up. “No.”

She nodded. One thing about Emmett was he needed his sex, and though he was up for anything, he liked to cap off his play with love making.

“No. The numbers don’t add up.” He held out his hands and began counting. “We had seven between us.”

She crossed her arms and sighed, they already did the math yesterday when they pooled their rations. At the time the whole thing seemed sexy, now it seemed pathetic.

“We had enough for two days.” He counted on his fingers again and nodded with a smile. “Yesterday was great.”

Now her face became hot. They spent the day and night yesterday alternately sleeping and making love. Maybe they should do something else. Maybe.

“You sure you’re not pregnant?” He gave her a toothy grin.

“Is me being pregnant better than running out of condoms?”

His eyes settled on her breasts and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Are you serious Emmett?” Her voice may be hard enough to knock some sense into him, but deep down her uterus thanked him.

He resumed his position back on the pillows looking like a child who broke his favorite toy. “We have to get out of here so I can find a drug store.” He motioned for her to come over.

She nestled herself next to him wondering how this became her favorite spot. “It’s going to be weird going back.”

“We’ll have one terrific story.” He rubbed her shoulder.

She shut her eyes when she asked her next question, not sure if he would pick up on her meaning. “What are you going to tell your friends?”

He scooted up and curled around her. “I’m going to say, hey remember that bitch, Jordan?”

She bit the inside of her mouth.

“Once they’re done nodding and muttering to themselves, I’ll tell them that we’re dating.” He ended his sentence with a kiss on her nose and kept his face close. “Does that answer the question if we are still together once we get back to the big bad world?”

“That clarifies things.” Apparently he spoke fluent girl, but she hated acting like one.

He tapped her. “Now what are you thinking about?”

“What are we going to do about work?” The question needed to be asked.

He swallowed and tensed, the arm around her became stiff, like an appendage stuck in time and space.

She refused to move, Emmett’s job was new, hers wasn’t and she waited for one of two answers, either how they would be forced to hide their budding romance or something else which would smack of how this wasn’t a good idea.

“I will handle it.” His grip tightened almost to the point of hurting her.

“Emmett.” She faced him, his blue eyes dark, determined and staring right at her.

“I’m not going to live some covert office romance, I will handle it.”

The questions in her mind began to line up like a row of dominos begging to be knocked down. She resisted, one question would make the rest fall, scattering answers she wasn’t sure if they were prepared to deal with. “I better train you so we can get to work when we get out of here.” She pushed the blankets aside.

Emmett caught her arm. “Would you even consider training me if we weren’t together?”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know.” She studied the quilt, an errant string caught her attention and she wondered if she pulled on it if all the stitches would unravel. “I began to tell you some things before.”

“Why did you choose to divulge those particular details?”

When she didn’t answer he continued for her. “Did you think I couldn’t use it?”

“Do you think what I’m doing is worthless?” His approval mattered and she grabbed the blanket.

He leaned toward her. “Or do you need my help?”

The day she found out Mrs. Douglas died, a numb sensation took over her body. During that particular morning, she sat in her desk chair calculating her commission when her assistant told her via an email. Sterile news delivered with the same forethought as a paperboy slinging his wares off his bicycle. When she looked back down at the yellow pad holding her numbers they didn’t mean anything. In that moment her edge dulled and she didn’t have a way to sharpen it.

The same numbness wafted over her now, but inside she begged for feeling. “I need help.” Five days ago she never would have made such an admission to him, but he insisted on the fact they were together.

“I’m here.”

“But before.” She cocked her head to either side, focusing on how her muscles resisted being stretched.

He took her hand. “But now is not before and I have to help you.”

“No you don’t.” She tried to rescue her hand. “You don’t have to do anything.”

He held tight, lacing their fingers together. “I want to help. We just need to make sure your plans work for the company.”

He moved their hands to his chest and moved them up to his mouth. “Please, Jordan. Let me do this.”

“But before.”

“Before we were rivals, even if we worked for the same company.” He kissed her hand. “Now we’re together.”

“Emmett.” She moved in for the kiss.

“Babe.” He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her, bending her back on the bed.

“Do you think we can do this?” She moaned when he sucked her neck.

“We have to make it viable.” His mouth returned to hers.

“But we can help these people, right?” She exhaled and arched her back when his hand located her breast. Now, out of habit, she reached down and caught hold of his growing erection. With only a few slow strokes he grew at her touch.

His hips bucked toward her. “We will do what we need to do.”

“Thank you, Emmett.” She experienced some set back, but with Emmett behind her she could make a difference. This was part of being a couple. It happened, the connection, the joining of forces for the greater good and she had to have him right now.

“No, no thank you necessary. Just listen to me.” He moved on top of her.

“I have to talk to you about something.” She curled her leg around him.

He lifted his head and gazed at her with glazed eyes. “Yeah?”

“We only have one condom.” She winced and removed her hand.

“We need to get out of here.” He grabbed her hand and put it back on him. “We need to use it right now. I’ll make it worth it.”

She fished out their last condom from under her pillow. He would help her with her quest, she would train him. They were together. “We’ll make it worth it.” She prayed everything stayed the same when they left their little sanctuary.

How long do you think Emmett will be able to keep up the secret?

Fired Up Chapter 10

2010-09-17T18:39:00.001-07:00

Hi all,
Well, Ash is back and editing, and I am writing, so things are good. Very busy work week!
Let me know if you want email alerts and keep the comments coming please we will have our weekly prize and our grand prize! This week’s winner, chosen by Ash, is Lauren! Email us and we will get you your prize.

Question at the end of the chapter!

Thank you all again, and have a great week.

Enjoy!

P.S. Chapters such as these are why this blog as a content warning. You have been warned.

Fired Up Chapter 10

Even with Jordan running her palm down the front of his pants, Emmett was not going to have sex with her.

He resigned himself to this fact right around the same time he decided he wanted Jordan Paxton for something more than sex. This was quite a sacrifice since sex with her was hot, bordering on incredible, dare he say, mind blowing. He didn’t lie when he said she was his match.

Of course in his quest to have Jordan for more than sex, there were two, slight, insignificant issues. First, she didn’t trust or believe in him. Second, by the time they returned to real world to start their relationship, he needed to fire her. The two problems seemed sickly intertwined.

But any great businessman came armed with a plan, and he had one. He wouldn’t have sex with her, and he wouldn’t fire her. In the process he would keep both his girl and his job. Nothing to worry about.

She grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and lightly raked her nails down his erection.

He held his breath, allowing the pressure to build. No doubt he would end up coming right in his pants like some high school kid.

“Emmett.” She arched her back, inviting him to peruse her copious breasts.

He dipped his head down, kissing each one, trying to choose which magnificent mound to devour first. Jordan presented him with a one hundred percent natural feast and he wanted to be a glutton. He picked his prize and took her left nipple in between his teeth, rolling his tongue over the hard nub.

“Oh God.” She tugged his hair.

When he decided not to have sex with her, the plan probably would have worked better if they continued eating beanie weenies and dancing, not making out and grinding together on the bed. After she put her hand in his, silently telling him she would give him a chance, things progressed fast.

While he paid the same attention to her other breast, she managed to undo his belt buckle and the button on his jeans using only one hand. An impressive feat, made only more notable by the way she seamlessly reached into his pants and extracted what she wanted.

He maintained he wasn’t going have sex with her, but now her fingertips were exploring his bare flesh. “Jordan.”

“Feel good?”

Good wasn’t the word, torture would be more accurate. Maybe this was what he deserved. Her hand pumped at the perfect rate to make him want to explode. “You don’t know how good.” He squeezed his eyes shut and in an attempt to keep his control but was unable to stop his himself from delving into the depths of her pants.

He was met with smooth skin and a slick passageway. Between the two of them the entire room smelled like sex, not only the obvious scents, but soap, cologne and even the wood of the cabin all melding together to signal his body to prepare itself for sex.

He slid a finger inside her and she returned the favor by tightening her grip on him. Still, he held his resolve, even when she moved faster and kissed his chest.

“Emmett.” She writhed under him.

“That’s right.” Maybe he could satisfy her and go take a cold shower, or stick his head and pelvis in some snow.

“Wait.” She put her hand over his.

“Would you like something else?” He stopped and licked his lips. Her taste on his tongue may push him over the edge, but he would sacrifice.

“Yes.” She reached for his shoulders and tilted her head.

The little bit of candlelight sneaking in from the other room illuminated her swollen lips and flushed face. Her expression alone told him what she wanted, and he paused in an attempt to remind himself of his plan.

“Don’t you…” She covered her chest.

In his mind he finished her question and took her in. Everything about this moment from the tangled sheets to the way her hair was tousled and her clothes twisted screamed that they were about to have sex. “Wait!” He held his hand up. His plan was completely wrong. “No.”

“Oh my God.” She moved her knees up and turned away.

“Jordan.” He moved over to her and put his hand on her knee.

She flinched.

“No.” He pushed her legs down, taking her chin in his hand and coaxing her to face him with a kiss.

At first she resisted, her lips hard and angry. He persisted, taking her into his arms, and bending her back. Though her mouth attempted to protest, it yielded enough for him to connect their tongues.

By the time they lay back down, she was kissing him in return. He shimmied out of his shirt and worked on ridding her of her clothing. This time there would be no such rush to cause them to force their bodies together among the clothes. This time he wouldn’t have sex with her, sex for the purpose of a quick orgasm and some fun. This time they would make love.

Before he did anything further, he moved the blankets aside and got them both under the covers. “You feel so good.” For the first time he was able to feel her completely against him.

Every part of Jordan was smooth, soft, and sensual. He shut his eyes and located her lips while he decided to relish in the sensation of her skin on his. His hands roamed across her rounded shoulders she tried so hard to square off, make herself tall enough to go up against any man, and yet inward curve of the small of her back which lead the way to a full, rounded backside, was so feminine.

He nudged her chin aside and traced a line with the tip of his tongue down her neck. The taste of her skin only added to every other delicious flavor her body provided for him. Now the tang of her soap and perfume blended with her own sweet essence, dancing on his tongue.

She moaned. “Emmett.”

He lifted his head pushed her hair away from her face to get a better view. “You’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.” She reached up and placed her palm on his face.

With a slight turn, he pressed his lips to her wrist and she squirmed when he gave a series of light kisses down the inside of her forearm, making his way almost back to her mouth, but taking a detour to admire her chest once more. He discovered her body with slow, light touches, kisses and caresses. Learned what made her flinch, relax, move her hips up to his or tug at his hair.

Jordan followed his lead, conducting her own explorations. This time rather than the fast race toward a momentary gratification, she massaged, sucked and fondled him, uncovering some secret spots even he didn’t know about. When she moved behind him and trailed her tongue down the line of his spine followed by lightly blowing took her hand for fear he would go over the edge right there and got her on her back once more. “Babe.”

This time he didn’t kiss her, or do anything else, he only stared at her, stopping everything to look at her.

“What are you doing?” She reached around his neck, attempting to pull him down.

She still didn’t understand. Without a word he moved on top of her, prodding her legs apart and soaking in the feeling of his naked engorged member on her inner thigh. He found the condom he stashed under the pillow and ripped it open. “I’m making love to you.”

“Yes.” The word hissed out of her mouth.

The only thing more glorious than watching her bite her lower lip while she helped him encase himself, was seeing her eyes close and having her hands clench around his arms when he glided inside her.

He sank in, and even though she was more than ready for him, she still held him tight. The snug fit combined with his arousal caused him to lower his head into the crook of her neck to prevent himself from turning his lovemaking into a one thrust disaster.

She whimpered. “Oh.”

“Hold on, babe.” This was a problem he never had, normally he possessed complete control. He moved his hips in a circle, buying some time willing the clenching lower regions to dissipate.

“Take your time.” She ran her hands down his back. “I need you to take your time.”

He swallowed, his body recovering enough for him to peek at her out of the corner of his eye. “Why?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and used him for leverage to whisper in his ear. “I’m so turned on by all that foreplay.” She giggled, giving him the chills. “And you stopping is making it worse.”

“Now I have to.” His body wanted to burst, come deep inside her and gain relief after days of lusting after her.

She took hold of his face. “Then do it.”

He kept his eyes on hers, at last began a series of shallow strokes, not enough to satisfy either of them.

“Harder.” She matched his motions.

“You’re going to kill me.” He sped up, driving into her.

“Yes.” She lifted her knees and he embedded himself further. “Come on, Emmett.”

“You want me.” He could torment her as well, and he pulled almost all the way out.

“I really hate you.” She writhed under him, turning into the pillow.

“No you don’t.” He waited, allowing her to use him for her pleasure, his focus shifting from his own release to hers. “Look at me.”

Once again she stared into his face, her lifting towards his, begging for him. “Emmett.”

“I’m going to make you come.” At last, he gave her relief, long thrusts with plenty of contact.

“That’s good.” She kissed him. “Don’t stop, please.”

“No, I’m yours.” Speed and momentum happened naturally, and he watched Jordan respond to his ministrations by holding on to him, and wrapping her legs around his waist. Never before had he taken the time to see what he could do to someone else, he was always too concerned about himself.

“Em…” She interrupted herself with her own gasp.

“That’s right.” Bringing her to an amazing orgasm now his only quest, shadowing his own as he focused on what he needed to do, he had to be the one to create her climax.

Her sharp pants were loud enough to be heard over the sounds of their skin pounding together.

“Now.” She grabbed the pillow in her fist. “Emmett, now.”

“You’re right there, babe.”

She twisted one way, and the other, her body searching for the perfect position to alleviate her need. “More.”

“Anything.” He rolled his pelvis in a circle.

“There.” She leaned up. “Right there.”

“That’s right.” He held the back of her head to him, meeting her mouth with his.

“Ahhh.”

He was met, not with a kiss, but with her cries as her end took her. She clenched down on him, contractions massaging down his length and her hard nipples chafing across his chest. Incredible was the only word to describe what they were able to do, what he was able to do for her.

“So good.” She held on, riding out the waves.

“Perfect.” Instinct told him to slow down and he resisted his own need to pound his body into hers, opting instead to rock against her.

She inhaled, her eyelids fluttering, reality taking claim. “Emmett?”

“Feel good?”

She nodded, licking her lips and moving his hair back. “I want you to feel good.”

“I do.” He sucked the finger she trailed across his mouth.

“You’re shaking.” Taking the lead, she lifted her hips impaling herself on him.

He had gone past the point of arousal now, every part of him sensitized, and he lowered his head feeling a drop of sweat fall off him. “Jordan.”

“Faster.” She guided him.

“Yes.” With no other choice, he listened to her commands.

“Come on.” She unfurled her legs and spread them out on the bed.

“Jordan.” He craved his end, and it was close, but out of reach.

They worked together, the bed creaking in protest, but Jordan kept up with him to create a build up the likes of which he never experienced. He couldn’t get deep enough inside her, or make love to her long enough.

“Oh, Emmett.” Her voice found his ears and he recognized renewed passion.

His body ran toward the edge, it was almost there, his erection becoming thicker, his body tensing. “Jeez.”

“God, help.” She called out.

“I’m going to come.” A little more, only a bit, he needed to fill her now, he wanted her to have it all.

“Come!”

At her demand he let go, his body pumping its contents into hers and he pressed down wanting to make sure she received everything. The room spun at his exertion and he shut his eyes when an unexpected jolt hit him and he was wracked with another round of pleasure.
“Yes.”

Not meaning to, but having no strength, he collapsed on top of her, noticing how she once again pulsed around him, as if milking his climax. “Babe.” Now he trembled, teeth chattering, too much adrenaline flooding his muscles.

“Stay right here.” She pulled the quilt up. “Don’t leave me.”

“No, I can’t.” He gulped for air. “I don’t want to.”

They lay there, not speaking or moving, simply laid on the bed with her making a design on his shoulder with one fingernail, him twirling one of her unwanted curls around his index finger listening to nothing. Before he disengaged himself, he leaned up and gave her a light kiss, only leaving her to discard the condom.

“Come here.” He returned to the bed and held his arms out. Unlike their first night, tonight he earned the right to share this space with her.

Jordan settled down on him, putting one leg over his and her cheek on his chest. “Emmett?”

The question in her voice matched the one in his mind. “Babe, I don’t know what to say.” He had no other words.

“Me neither.”

He took her hand in his. How did he get everything he wanted, but had this many problems? He still had to fire her. This plan didn’t work either. Making love made everything worse. “Move closer.”

She shimmied over, basically on top of him, but she still didn’t seem near enough.

“Do you think the snow will melt tomorrow?” Her breath tickled his neck.

He glanced over at the window. No matter what, when they got out he would have to deal with this job situation without his woman finding out. She belonged to him, and he wouldn’t fire her. “I hope not.”

Question: Do you believe Emmett?

Fired Up Chapter 9

2010-09-08T20:21:00.000-07:00

First a very important announcement…ASH is back!! In fact she picked this week’s winner who is…..kyleishia27.

Please email us and we will get your prize to you.

Second, I would like for everyone to extend their good thoughts to Ash’s boyfriend who left to Afghanistan last week for seven months. Please join me in wishing for his safe and fast return home. (FYI, he is really cool!)

Third, keep commenting as we will have a grand prize at the end, and let me know if you want to be on an email alert list.

Last, and not at all least, thank you all for your support. Welcome to the next installment there is a question at the end.

Fired Up Chapter 9

There was a reason a one night stand was named a one night stand. It was a simple tradition handed down since the dawn of readily available birth control, or maybe even before. You would meet, there would be an attraction, you would have sex, and after the one night, the couple would part ways. There would always be the obligatory promise to call, but it was never carried out. This was the code, the creed, the law.

She hit her thigh, the lukewarm bathwater in the tub splashing up into her face and the soap stinging her eye. She didn't get the benefit of the millions, maybe billions of one night stands before hers. Only she would get trapped with her one night stand as her co-worker only to have another one night stand. This was now a two night stand and she made the mistake of thinking there was more because they broke the rules.

Over the last few days something went awry in her head. Emmett took over the role of caregiver, made her feel safe when she was terrified, listened to her speak and understood her work. He got it, she knew he did. No wonder she wanted him, she never had that before.

To make matters worse, he was a perfect gentleman. Never once did he argue about sleeping on the couch or tried anything physical.

At least now she understood. He wasn't as polite as he was uninterested. She shoved her palm into her eye. The soap burned, causing tears.

Her heart lurched at the knock on the bathroom door and she sat up straight and covered her breasts. Except for one bathroom trip, Emmett stayed away from her the entire day. "What?"

"I want to show you something."

"I'm a little busy." She grabbed her razor and sighed. By now she sat in the tub so long she was positively hairless though there was no reason for the effort, no one would enjoy her smooth skin.

"It's important." His words followed by another soft knock.

"Did the plow come?"

"No."

She heard him thump against the door.

"Then I'm sure it can wait until I'm done."

"But you will come, right?"

She decided not to answer. If she said yes she appeared desperate, if she said no she appeared desperate.

"I'll be waiting." He gave the door a last tap.

She heard his footsteps fade and traced an abstract image on her wet knee. If only she didn't try to kiss him, the second she did, he won. She would go out there, but only because she didn't eat all day and left the bag of trail mix on the couch. Also, she wouldn't have him thinking she wasn't talking to him.

Even with the water cooling and the bubbles dissipating, she sat in the water until her teeth chattered. Her only hope was her heart would do the same. How on earth she ended up caring for this man after less than a week only proved she needed to watch out for him. It didn't matter if he worked for the same company, he was still her competition.

Trying to prolong the inevitable, she took her time getting out of the tub and wiping it down. Not willing to give Emmett any more victories, she applied her makeup and slicked back her hair, going out of her way to make sure she appeared as if she were going to a meeting. She put on a pair of black pants, pairing it with a sweater and when there was nothing left for her to do to herself, went into the bedroom.

She slipped on a pair of black pumps and stomped to the bedroom door noticing flickering light coming from beneath it. If this man was going to show her some presentation or talk more about training, she may sock him. With her eyes closed, she pushed her shoulders back before flinging the door open.

The music caught her attention first. It played in tune with the soft crackling of the fireplace. Not soft rock and not pop music. It was the kind of music one would find at the perfect moment in a hip romance movie by an up and coming band.

"I prefer your hair down, and with a little wave."

She opened her eyes. Emmett stood in the kitchenette holding up two juice glasses. The source of the flickering light she saw sneaking under the door came from dozens of candles lit throughout the room. She swallowed, capturing her own breath and holding it there, it was hers, something he wasn't allowed to have.

"The first time I saw you I thought you looked like a model." He stepped toward her. "It was at a cocktail party and you were in a black dress and out of the corner of my eye I saw you and wondered who invited the models to the party."

She tried to absorb this. Candles, music, he also set up some sort of food on the table. "What are you doing?"

"Then someone introduced you and I put the name with the face and realized you were the bitch who beat me out of a deal I wanted." He came closer. "But a damn beautiful one."

She backed away remembering the same night, he caught her eye as well but she was too busy making sure he was aware she won.

"The night you wore the red dress, I couldn’t resist you." He held the glass out. “I thought a one night stand would do it for me, but maybe I should have spent less time trying to best you and more time trying to ask you out."

"Emmett." She wanted to turn and run into the bedroom to hide.

“Jordan.”

They stared at each other and she chided herself for allowing her heart to speed up with excitement. "What's going on?" She didn't run.

"The only question is what to do when someone like you accepts a date. If we were in the city I would have pulled out all the stops, every favor and all my cash to impress you." He shrugged his shoulders. "But tonight I had to work with what I had because I couldn't wait."

She dug her nails into her palm needing something to ground her, bring her back down to the world where she and Emmett were rivals. "I don't understand."

He resumed his trek toward her. "Will you have dinner with me?"

She glanced down at his hands wanting them on her. Why did she have to have this intangible chemistry with him?

"You know what's funny?" He stood inches from her.

A waft of his cologne caught her nostrils. He smelled like dating, a night out with a man. The scent where later you would end up at the shopping mall searching for it, wanting to experience his essence again. "What's funny?"
"Chemistry." He leaned down toward her neck, but didn't touch her. "You can't make it happen and you can't deny it."

She cringed at the word he used as if he could read her mind.

He blew a soft stream of air on her neck and she hung her head back, her already hard nipples scratching against her confining bra.

"How many times have you been out with someone trying to get that feeling?'

Only with every man she ever went out with. She stiffened, reminding herself she wasn't dating Emmett.

"So what do you say?" He tilted his head toward her.

"About what?" Maybe she should surrender and give him the password to her computer, it would be easier.

"Tonight being our first date?"

"Explain." Her voice lacked backbone.

"It's simple." He pressed the glass into her hand. "We have our date tonight, and the next night and the next."

She stared into the glass, the rippling red liquid tattled on her shaking hand and she wanted to down the wine. "Emmett."

"I found this in your suitcase. I didn't snoop. The bottle neck was sticking out of the top." He tapped their cups together. The cheap glass didn’t give the satisfying clink as expected.

She bought this bottle to brood by herself, but now Emmett was here talking about dating. This was supposed to be a one night stand.

"So, shall we toast to our first date?"

Once more he put the emphasis on the word first and somehow she found herself sipping the wine. Emmett stayed close, his hand on the wall behind her, a slight smile on his face, his fingers reaching out to touch her, but stopping short.

“Shall we?” He finished off his wine and waited for her to do the same. When she emptied the glass he put it on the floor and took her hand, pulling her into him and swaying to the music.

With her eyes level with his chin she studied his bit of stubble, the exact right amount to be sexy and not scruffy. She placed her hands on his upper arms, he was built, not too much, but enough to be strong and tough. Her heart sped up along with her thoughts. The chemistry, electricity or whatever they wanted to call it was a true force between them. She let go and stepped back. The jolt of having his body so near made it hard to focus.

"What's wrong?" He reached out and she held her hand up.

"Why are you doing this?" Hours before he basically tossed her aside for a bowl of cereal. They didn't even have any milk. Now he summoned her with more calculated charm than a cheesy romance novel.

"I told you." He crossed his arms.

"No." She turned, not able to look at him and do what she needed. "I’m the one who told you. I told you everything."

"You didn't give me everything and you know it."

In a spark of reality, she figured out his reason for all this. This whole thing was wrong from the second she slept with him to wanting something more. Her mind had become clouded with feelings she wasn't allowed to have and she stomped her foot before spinning around. "Why are you doing this, Emmett?"

His eyes widened and he lunged across the floor, covering the space between them with only two steps. "I didn't mince words. I wanted to have our first date, and I wanted to sit with you and drink some wine." He pointed at her. "I wanted to leave work alone and enjoy each other."

"But…" She wanted to ask him if he thought what she was trying to do was stupid. She wanted to know why he was sent out with her, she wanted to know what he wanted.

He cut her off. "I wanted to leave work alone and I wanted to make you dinner since I couldn't take you out, and then if I was really lucky, I wanted that kiss back that I tossed out this morning." With a wave of his hand he turned away. "Damn it, Jordan."

She opened her mouth, but found herself only licking her lips. Her stomach spiraled out of control, that delightful drop every woman craved, and without second guessing her next move she leaned forward running her nails over the back of his hand. "I'm starving."

After a pause, he turned his hand over and intertwined their fingers. "I wanted to show you my domestic side."

"Since we became trapped, I have to say I am positively impressed by your homemaking skills." She let him guide her to the table, trying not to doubt her decision.

"You haven't seen anything yet." He pulled her chair out and sat down next to her. "I think you have to be impressed."

Her eyes scanned the table. Crackers were attractively arranged in a circle on a plate, and he dished out individual servings of what appeared to be beans. “Are those hotdogs?”

“Oh contraire.” His sigh faked distain. “This is a culinary masterpiece in the form of traditional beanie weenies.”

“I didn’t know those were actually made.” She stifled a laugh, but it had to come out when she saw he took a bunch of little bowls where he separated the contents of the trail mix into their individual components.

“I don’t understand trail mix.” He shook his head. “It’s better this way.”

“Where are the M&M’s?” Those were notably absent from his display.

“This is dinner, M&M’s are for desert.”

The meal may be only hotdogs and beans, but Emmett put a lot of time and care into this evening.

“I know it’s no pizza, but when we get back, I promise to take you to a little Italian place I know and they will make us anything we want.” His voice became low.

“I like beanie weenies and deconstructed trail mix when they’re surrounded by candles.” Her heart took off without her control. She may as well reach in her chest and hand it to Emmett.

“I like them when they’re surrounding you.” He glanced at her, the flame from the candles on the table caused his eyes to shine.

“Do you?” Her voice sounded far away.

This man mesmerized her, made her do things she wouldn’t normally dare, and as if she were in a trance she moved forward for the kiss, exactly like this morning.

Also like this morning he took her arms. She held her breath, and as if she were stuck in an eternal rewind of a terrible movie, he pushed her back.

Her body tensed and her jaw and fists clenched in unison. The first time he caught her unprepared, this time he made a fool out of her. Only two seconds after she admitted to herself he took her heart, he drop kicked it across the room.

He breathed in and opened his mouth, and she swore if he made one mention of fortified flakes, she would take him out. She paused only long enough to hear his latest lame excuse before she attacked.

A small dimple on the left side of his face appeared. “I got it back.”

Unlike this morning, he pulled her into him and his lips found hers.

At first the kiss didn’t register. When her mind and body connected, she began to shake, adrenaline, nerves and need conjugating together. There was too much risk for this investment.

Up until this second she only experienced two kisses with Emmett. The ones they shared the first night in the cabin were full of lust, nothing more, nothing less. Crushing collisions meant to bring them closer to a physical release.

The day they became trapped he gave her a real kiss. One with concern and comfort, a mental kiss, the one which made her believe there could be something more.

Now there was this kiss, the best of both worlds. It started slow, his lips massaging hers before he added his tongue. She welcomed the lust. He deepened the kiss and gave her the opportunity to fully taste him, the flavor of Emmett and red wine. Their bodies reacted and desire moistened her panties. This was the chemistry. The unwelcome visitor in this kiss was that deeper connection, a kiss a couple shared. They couldn’t do this.

He slid out of his chair, kneeling on the floor and taking her face between his hands. “Come here.”

Without question, she obeyed.

He bent her back and rather than resuming on what was sure to be their lust filled trek to the bedroom, he stared at her.

“What is it?”

“You’re beautiful.” He traced her chin with his fingertip. “You really are.”

Those words coming from Emmett meant everything, and her face heated, a sudden shyness taking over. “Emmett.” She lowered her eyes to her lap.

“You’re more than beautiful.” He hooked his fingers under her chin. “We should have gotten together a long time ago. We both felt it.”

They weren’t together. Before she let out any word of protest he kissed her again. Now pressed together she clearly felt his erection, but along with his blatant desire he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair.

Right now he was supposed to be ripping her clothes off. Instead, he slid his mouth down her jaw line. Shivers claimed her when his tongue outlined her ear and flicked across her lobe.

He made his way back to her mouth and rested his forehead on hers. “I think I made a terrible date.”

“No this is good.” She shut her eyes. This was right. They would paw each other, sleep together, have multiple orgasms and later maybe even be friends with benefits. This whole dating idea was bad.

“I want to dance with you again.” He rubbed back. “I want to do this right.”

The floor wasn’t stable, her shoes sunk in, maybe the wood was rotting. “Emmett.” She pushed him back and was met with that damn dimple again.

“Shall we eat or dance?” He kissed her hand.

“We work together.” When they returned to the real world this wouldn’t exist and she still had her the job she wanted to do.

His eyes dimmed and his hold on her loosened. She swore he turned pale and she nodded. “We work together,” she repeated. “If you want to do this right, we need to remember that minor detail.”

“Jordan.” He let go. “Do you want this?”

She refused to answer.

“I want it. I need to know if you do.”

“I want to hate you.”

“Do you think we have something more or not?” He shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s because we’re stuck here.” She swallowed, trying to say anything to make him stop. “This place isn’t real.”

“This place is what we needed. We would have never let this happen any other way.”

“It’s only been a few days.” She wrapped her arms around herself.

“In those few days I learned what I wanted. You did train me to know you.”

She covered her mouth, stopping her words because she didn’t want him to stop.

“I know you, Jordan Paxton. I know you brush your teeth four times a day, I know your feet are always cold, I know your hair is really curly and you hate it.”

“Please.” Her plea was muffled.

“I like it better natural.”

She glanced over, trying to look beyond him, but it didn’t work.

“I know you’re brilliant and I know you’re the one woman who can match me.”

The room became silent. When was the last time a man knew her and wanted her? She never got this far.

“Forget everything else and tell me if you want this.” His voice was hard and forceful, exactly how he would sound if he was closing the deal.

Somehow she located the courage to look at him. “You make faces when you read and you definitely don’t understand the strategy behind gin rummy.”

“You can teach me.”

“You secretly want to ride a motorcycle.”

“You want to ride on one with me.” He tilted his head. “Answer me, Jordan.”

“We work together.” She tried again.

“Forget about that and tell me.” He held his hand out to her. “I want to give it to you if you want it.”

She focused on his hand. Long thin fingers and a smooth palm welcoming her, offering her something she always wanted. She put her hand in his, taking his gift. “Emmett.”

He stood, helping her up and drawing her close. “Kiss me.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Soaked panties and an open heart were an odd mix.

Is Jordan too trusting?

Fired Up Chapter 8

2010-08-27T09:41:00.001-07:00

First, our winner is C_soper – so please email you your email and I will get your prize! Congrats. Of course we will be doing the same contest this week :-)

Two more repeats – If you want email alerts of when the blog is updated, please email me and I will put you on the list, I will never use your email for anything else. Second, keep commenting as there will be a grand prize at the end even if you won before. Also, I have another question at the end.

Seriously, thank you all for continuing to follow the story.

Fired Up Chapter 8

"I worked out a plan where the employees would get a compensation package and the owners…" Jordan clicked something on her computer and tapped him.

Emmett kept his eyes affixed to the screen, the colors, letters and numbers blurring together into an indecipherable blob. He only needed two words on the screen, fire her. He was here to fire her.

Once upon a time the thought of besting Jordan Paxton, the specialist gone soft, would have had him buying a round of drinks for the office. He was brought in to be a human weed eater. Get rid of the garbage and make the flowers grow.

Fertilize them and when the time was right, chop off the blooms and sell them for a profit.

"Emmett."

Another day with Jordan. Yesterday after her revelation he didn't push her again. They spent their time reading and talking about anything but work. This morning rather than propelling him into the door, she took his word when he said the snow still trapped them, no plow freed them, and got her computer out. "Before Douglas would you have taken this deal?"

Her eyelids lowered saying more than any words. "Don't you think that sometimes we can do some good too? Does it all have to be ripping things apart and selling them to the highest bidder?"

"That's our job." He needed to be tough.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be this way."

The first mistake he made was facing her. Four days in a cabin with no makeup, in jeans and a sweater and wavy hair bordering on curly only made her hotter, or perhaps beautiful was more accurate? "This is the way it is." Description didn't matter, she was pretty and jobless.

"I have some other ideas." She opened another file on the machine. "Look Emmett."

Mistake two and three, leaning into her, their arms touching when she pointed to something, coupled with actually listening to her. He told himself he only paid attention because this was the information he came to retrieve.

"Here are some strategies I outlined." Her voice, humble mixed with sincerity.

Her numbered list was a mish mash of items fit for a charity auction. More trash, he would need to get a dumpster to clean up this disaster.

"Emmett?"

Why did she have to say his name with the perfect feminine pitch to make him feel fifty feet tall? Did she have to be good, or trying to be good? And smart. She was smart, enough to beat him more than once, or twice. He drew his lower lip over his teeth, biting down, hoping to draw blood.

"I have a lead list."

He released his lip and told himself to get it together. A lead list was what he was after. He was here to get the lead list, get the goods and not care. Make money, his mind screamed. Money came from lead lists.

Even a glimpse would tell him plenty. This wasn't her lead list, not even close. It was a list of losers, dying companies, money sinks. Nothing there was what he needed. He moved back, away from the list of potential crap clients. This would be the first weed he killed. Finally, he made a fourth and fatal mistake. "Why are you showing me this?"

The sound of her scooting toward him on the threadbare fabric of the couch tore through his brain like the sound of blade against tin as he opened the world's largest can of worms.

She put her hand on his arm. Soft and small he barely felt the weight. "After all this and…" A shrug of her shoulders was the period of the sentence. "I feel like I can trust you. You're different than what I thought."

His heart thumping, sweat traveling down the back of his neck and his need for air were his only indications of a panic attack. Other than his symptoms, he didn't move. He covered his girlish gasp with a cough. "Jordan?"

"Maybe we can work on this together?"

Some would call his next answer a success. He would call it a mistake only because he meant the words. "You're trying something different, maybe we could."

"You do understand." Her eyes darted between his face and his arm.

Damn it, he did. "We should eat."

Her face transformed from innocent and scared to devious and sexy. Subtle changes, a spark in her eye, the shape of her lips, a slight nostril flare. "Do you want to pick the M&Ms out of the trail mix?" She raked one nail up his arm.

He swallowed, almost choking. There was something much better to sample than a chocolate candy. "Maybe I'm not hungry."

"I'm not hungry at all." She licked her lips and tilted her head up.

She wanted him. His erection became more trapped in his jeans than they were in this hell hole. He deserved her, especially after all the days he spent on the couch. Now it would be even better, the first awkward time was behind them, he would be free to experiment and explore.

A small mew left her throat as her eyelids fluttered, drawing him near.

She was ready to be kissed hard and deep with his tongue investigating every recess of her mouth. He would bend her back and kiss her while he rid them both of their clothes. They shouldn’t be wearing clothes at all. He would set her breasts free and dip his fingers into her hot, wet channel preparing her for the real invasion. He grabbed her upper arms and his stomach twisted with anticipation of making love to her.

"I was thinking cereal." He exhaled and pushed her back exactly like he pushed back the words “making love” back in his mind.

Her mouth opened.

"It's a healthy kind, with oats and dried fruit. You should like that." He let go of her when he began to shake. "Yeah, I'm starving. All that work talk stirred my appetite."

"Oh, okay." She shut the computer, shielding her chest with the machine.

He got up, stumbling on the leg of the coffee table. "Let me get it."

"I'm still not hungry." She pressed her lips together causing her plump pink mouth to turn into a flesh colored slit.

He fled to the safety of the kitchen where he grasped a cabinet knob and held on tight. The sound of her pulling the cord out of the wall and gathering her papers filled the room. When he heard something fall he spun around to find her bending over the spilled contents of her computer case. "Let me help you."

"No!" Her yell echoed off the walls. "I got it." She shoved her items inside and stood up. "I don't need help."

"Jordan." He stopped for her sake, not his.

"I don't need help." She walked toward the bedroom. "I just feel like being alone for a while."

"Sure." He watched her go without running away or getting mad. His last mistake of the morning, wanting to truly make love to the woman he would betray when the snow melted.

Question: Should Emmett have kissed or did he do the right thing?

Fired Up Chapter 7

2010-08-20T11:13:00.000-07:00

Hi all,
Few details before we get to the story.

First, our winner is Anonymous – and I know who that is so please email you your email and I will get your prize! Congrats. This time my baby puppy chose the winner. Hopefully in the next couple of weeks Ash will get to do it. Of course we will be doing the same contest this week :-)

Two more repeats – If you want email alerts of when the blog is updated, please email me and I will put you on the list, I will never use your email for anything else. Second, keep commenting as there will be a grand prize at the end. Also, I have another quesiton at the end.

Thank you again for all your support. As of right now I’m still flying solo, but soon Ash will be back to help. Here’s my favorite quote from Wicked before I leave you to the story:

“And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free. To those who'd ground me, take a message back from me, tell them how I am defying gravity.” Elphaba, Defying Gravity.

Fired Up Chapter 7

"Try one more time. I'm sure I saw the door move." Jordan grabbed Emmett's shoulders and pulled him back as if she were cocking a slingshot.

His prison guard concentrated a ton of tenacity in one small package. Rather than morning sex, or even a morning argument, their AM ritual of the last two days consisted of ramming him against the door in an attempt to free them.

She let go. "Run!"

He burst toward the door, the side of his body meeting squarely with solid wood backed up by super strength snow. "Ah." That one hurt.

"Are you okay?" She rushed to him and rubbed his arm.

No, he was not okay and he wished she would stop asking. One night of sex followed by two nights of voluntarily sleeping on the couch with nothing but his magazine on motorcycles left him sour. Jordan's touch flicked a switch in him, turning him on every single time, and now was no different.

"Emmett."

Those brown eyes wide with concern looked into his face and his shaft began to swell against the buttons of his fly. "I'm fine." He shimmied his arm away needing to remember this was the woman who only got along with him as long as they were playing a video game on the computer, skimming the pages of a fashion magazine, or of course, having sex. She wouldn't give any information up relating to work, and if he prodded, it ended in a one way ticket to nowhere.

"No you're not." She moved closer.

Her fruit-scented shampoo flirted with his nostrils and he noticed she left her hair down and wavy, not in her normal straight precision cut. It figured he would get himself into this position, ensnared with the only woman who riled him up in a long time, and him deciding to be celibate because he couldn’t sleep with her and fire her.

"You have the exact expression you had the day Mr. Miller walked passed you at the cocktail party and shook my hand when I closed the deal on his textile plant."

Her lips parted slightly and she pushed her shoulders back, priming for a fight. They hadn't gone at it good since their first day of captivity, now seemed perfect. "Was it anything like the look on your face when I snaked the Anderson Corporation out from under you?"

She breathed in, her boobs raising, distorting the grey stripes of her sweater. While he wanted to continue to stare at her chest he was more taken with the sneer which overtook her mouth, complete with a nose flare.

"Hmm." With a raised eyebrow she crossed her arms and strummed her fingers on her elbows. "It must have been something along the lines of when I engineered the transportation deal leaving you without a ticket to ride."

His blood circulation increased in two contradictory locales, his brain and his crotch, engorging them both. He stepped closer and bent down until they were nose to nose. "Who needed a ticket on a sinking ship when I'm the one who got up in the air?"

"But you crashed on the Piper deal, they practically came crawling to me."

Right now he wanted to take hold of her and crash his body into hers. "The Sanderman Corporation stalked me until I said yes."

They both smiled.

"Lawrence had to take me off the Randall project just so I could take over the Portman Wine deal you wanted to turn into vinegar." She stomped her foot. "In fact, you won Randall, because I wasn't there."

"The only reason you got the Douglas deal was because I was on vacation."

The instant the last word exited his mouth, the color fell out of her face, the smile vanished and her eyes shifted down. She licked her lips and backed up, the electricity in the air evaporating with every step she took. "So much for memory lane."

He watched her go to the couch and sit down. "You won that deal."

She nodded, picked up his magazine and flipped through the pages.

"You had to make a lot from that one." He strode across the cabin and took his place on the coffee table. "Did the deal fall through?"

"No." She held the magazine up.

"Jordan?"

"I found a Chinese checkers set in the closet, do you remember how to play?" The magazine stayed between them.

"I was only teasing about all that." What was it about her that made him want to apologize and comfort her?

"I started it."

"Did they cheat you?" He went to the couch.

She shook her head.

"What happened?" He pushed the magazine down. Now instead of pale skin, he was met with bright red cheeks.

"Nothing." She whispered.
"What did I do?" He stood. "Damn it, we've been stuck here for days, can you at least tell me what horrible sin I committed just now? I told you I was only teasing."

"I started it!" She dropped the magazine and covered her face.

He listened to her sniffles and watched her shake, and for a minute he froze exactly like the ice outside. Nothing he said or she said warranted this reaction. "Hey." He sat back down and touched her back.

"I killed them." Her voice muffled by her hands.

It sounded like she said she killed something. "What?"

"I killed them." This time her sentence was crystal clear.

He took her arm and pulled. "Who did you kill?"

She sat up but didn't face him. "Mrs. Douglas and a bunch of other people."

"Jordan you're not making any sense." He moved over until he put his arm around her. "I don't think you could kill anything unless you count my ego."

With not as much as a chuckle she continued. "I may as well taken a gun and shot her dead."

"You did a deal."

"Everyone lost their jobs and their retirement."

"That happens sometimes."

"Mrs. Douglas died a week after the deal was penned."

"Jordan." He pulled her into him. "You didn't kill her, she just died. They were an old couple."

"I forced the sale, coordinated a takeover. I did it and didn't care and I killed her." She shut her eyes.

He pushed her head down onto his chest and she fell against him, crying. Everything made sense now, the small deals, not caring about commissions, saying the company needed to be bought. "This is why we're here." Redemption.

Question: Would you feel guilty if what happened to Jordan and her account happened to you, or would it be just business?

Fired Up Chapter 6

2010-08-10T21:19:00.000-07:00

Hi All,
Few housekeeping details. First, I am not sure how blogs let you know when you updated or not, but for those of you who would like an email reminder, please email us at leigherikson@gmail.com and we will do a personal reminder. WE WILL NOT USE YOUR EMAIL FOR ANYTHING ELSE I PROMISE. I just wasn’t sure how people found out, and with our other story being finished let me know I you want updates.

Second, please keep commenting, we are going to be having our weekly drawing as well as some grand prizes at the end where we will give everyone one entry for every comment (did that make sense?)

Third, our winner is…Cherry La Pearl. Congrats! Email me and I will get you your prize.

I have another question at the end of the chapter…

Fired Up Chapter 6

Don't look out the windows. Jordan repeated Emmett’s mantra to herself over and over again. As long as she didn't look out the windows she could try to forget the cabin remained buried in snow, trapping her inside.

Trapping her with Emmett.

Emmett, the man who gave her a kiss much different than the ones he bestowed on her the night before.

Her chest clamped down, heart beating so fast the thumps ran together until she was sure the organ would explode. She needed to move and jumped up off the sofa rushing to the door. The walls of the room bulged and retreated and she bent over, out of breath. They had to get out, now, before the roof caved in.

"Did you look out the window?" Emmett appeared, putting his arm around her and guiding her back to the couch.

"No." Now her heart calmed, individual beats banged against her chest wall sucking the energy out of her.
"You okay?" He put her legs up and covered her with the quilt from the bedroom.

"When I booked this place they neglected to tell me that quaint meant tiny snow encapsulated death trap." She leaned her head back, not sure how the pillow which cradled her head magically appeared.

He sat down on the table. "I don't think this is the first time this has happened here."

"It's like they planned for this." She covered her eyes to stop herself form looking at him in his faded jeans and tight fitting red t-shirt. Why couldn't she get stranded with a girl, or some old grandpa, or maybe a guy who didn't make her toes curl?

He laughed and she peeked at him through her fingers. The little crinkle at the corner of his eye and the way only the upper couple of teeth on his left side showed from his smile distracted her for a brief moment from their imprisonment. "What?"

"Maybe this is some bizarre therapy for overworked executives to keep us away from email and cell phones."

She shot up and screamed. "Oh my God!" Throwing the quilt aside she ran back to the door. Escape was imperative.

Emmett came up from behind, catching her around the waist and hauled her back to the sofa.
"This is so bad." She turned her face to the cushion and breathed in. It smelled sort of musty, dusty and dead, exactly like people with no technology.

"We're going to have to deal with it." He scratched his forehead. "We'll live."

"But do we want to?" Her only solace was his eyes darkened and the corner of his lips curled.

"Are you hungry?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"All we've had is trail mix."

"How about we call and order a pizza?"

"How about soup?" He rubbed his hands together.

"Soup?" She turned over. He was too cute, and she had sex with him twice and knew how good he was in bed.

"I made soup." He breathed in, chest out, fluffing his feathers as if he were in the wilderness and killed an antelope for their nourishment.

"You made soup?" She had no clue why this fact turned her on especially when faced with certain peril in the cabin of doom.

"I think it should be ready." He slapped his knees as he stood up. "Stay there."

"I didn't hear a buzz." She scooted up on the couch.

"Yeah, the microwave doesn't work. I had to put it on the stove." He glanced back at her. "We're totally off the grid."

"I like the grid." She clutched the quilt to her chest.

The sounds of silverware and ceramic clanking against each other while Emmett finished his preparations soothed her. This entire set up reminded her of when she would be sick and stay home from school and her mother would take care of her. "You don't have to do this."

He came back and handed her a steaming mug of red liquid. "It's no pizza, but it has tomato."

"Thanks." She raised her mug and took a sip. The smooth soup seeped down her throat and she grinned, this was a bit too homey. "So what are we going to do now with nothing but time?"

He paused before he answered and his voice dropped, tiptoeing across the words of this touchy subject. "I thought maybe you wouldn't mind getting me up to speed."

She stared past him, focusing not on the wood paneled wall, and definitely not the window, but instead seeing the roads she could take right now. One path led her to spending endless hours in bed together. It would pass the time, serve as much needed exercise in their confinement and be enjoyable.

Until after when it would be worse than this morning.

Trail number two took her toward silence. Tell him nothing or dish out tiny amounts. She pursed her lips to abate a smile at even the thought of telling him something wrong. Those were the ways of a Jordan she wanted to forget, and she refused to become that person again.

The last passage guided her to the answer she avoided. Work with Emmett. Do what her boss asked. Do right by the man who without she would be in real trouble, alone, confined and panicked. Help the man who she went up against over and over again. Set him on his own avenue to beat her when they took different paths.

She opted for a detour. "Why did you leave your firm?"

He downed the rest of his meager meal, set the mug on the table and moved her legs to sit on the couch beside her. "Better opportunity."

She tended to her soup, taking the spoon and stirring, waiting.

"I needed more commission, asked for it, didn't get it, shopped around and negotiated with Lawrence."

"Okay." Translation, lower salary, higher stakes, he needed to deliver. She sat up, her blood circulating, warming her better than the soup. "What did you bring to the table?"

"I have a list of past clients, ways to turn more profit." He sat up, titling his neck from side to side.

"How many will really follow?"

He shifted his eyes to her.

With his lack of an answer giving her a real answer, she figured a few breadcrumbs may be in order in the form of running by some of her new ideas. "You know right now there are many small businesses to clean up." She swallowed and her eyes settled on the curtains, she quickly shifted them to the coffee table and Emmett's empty mug.

"Small business equals small opportunities and small commissions."

"If you put small commissions together eventually they add up to a big commission."

"There's no commission if there's no money to begin with." He moved back to the table. "Why this tiny deal? What's it about?" His tone took on the authority of a disappointed parent.

"This is a good business looking to be sold."

"It's a crapfest." He pointed to her.

"Are you doubting me?" She met his finger with a glare.

"Yes."

"Then I'm not the trainer for you." She pushed both fists into the couch to stand up.

With an outstretched arm, he stopped her. "I disagree. I think you're just the trainer for me if you can tell me how our firm can make your deal work."

"Well, it’s the flow of commerce. We buy the company and make money for the former owners or stockholders, and then we take it apart and sell it."

"And we make a profit." He added as he pushed her back.

"Of course." She grabbed the edge of the couch, the stiff, blue velveteen fabric not giving her much to sink her nails into, leaving her completely unsatisfied.

"Have you forgotten about that minor detail?"

"I seem to have forgotten that I don't have to tell you anything." She raised her head and inspected the ceiling of wood planks. She was beginning to hate wood.

"Doesn’t matter, I think I have all I need to know." He moved back, allowing her to reclaim her personal space.

"Well, if that's the case then I believe I have a book I need to catch up on." She got up and wanting release, headed toward the door.

He rose as well. "At least the company won't be losing any money with us here. Maybe Lawrence planned this to contain the damage."

"Then you should explain why you're stuck with me." She rubbed her hand down the wood, finger tracing a knothole, taking in the uneven texture and deciding never to have wood anything.

"I already told you."

The sound of his pacing pounded in her ears. "Oh yeah?"

"Damage containment."

Without a destination, her instinct guided her toward the window.

"Don't look out the window." He called to her.

"Screw you." What was meant as a whisper came out loud and clear.

"I’m not even touching that one."

She heard him walk into the bedroom and threw the curtain aside only to be met with a plane of endless white which seemed to have grown since she first looked. The cold, hard mass surrounded them, trapping her with the man who screwed her and followed that up by kissing her. "No." She shut the curtains and sank down to her knees. "Don't look out the window."

Question: Have you ever wanted to live off the grid away from television, internet and phones?

Fired Up Chapter 5

2010-08-04T22:10:00.001-07:00

Hi, all we hoped you enjoyed the last chapter – it was so much fun to write! Thank you for all the great comments. Again a contest and again a winner and that winner is Elaine-Joy! Email me and I’ll get you your prize! Congrats!

Please keep the comments coming, we’ll be running the same contest this week and at the end we will put all the names in a hat (you get one entry for every comment to increase your chances) and we will have a grand prize with all kinds of good things!

Once more I have a question at the end of the chapter.

P.S. Congrats to Ash who finished the bar, and she will be back very soon!

Fired Up Chapter Five

Jordan dashed from the bathroom to her bag on the bed, back to the bathroom.

Emmett sat back, hands behind his head and legs crossed watching his bed partner. She came out again now in a black pant suit, hair slicked back in bitch mode and adjusting her earring.

He knew what hid deep beneath that staunch veneer, a tight little body with a handful of ass and huge breasts to devour. Right now he wouldn't mind drowning in them. He woke up hard, horny and alone. Hell he was still horny, and hard.

Without even a glance in his direction, she shoved some items into her bag and checked her laptop case for the fifth time. "Do you want to grab some coffee?"

"No." She dug through her purse, pulling out the huge bag of trail mix. Off she went again.

He strummed his fingers on the mattress. "Maybe we can get something to eat on the way. Pizza?"

She returned to the bedroom, plopping the bag of trail mix on his lap. "Are you ready?"

"For what?"

For the first time since yesterday she looked at him when she spoke. "We need to leave right now. I need to do my work and you need to stay quiet."

At least those words caused his erection to begin deflating. "What about my training?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I am not a trainer, I'm an investment specialist. You can learn by watching, that's it."

"We are supposed to be working together." He swallowed his lie. In this entire mess he somehow forgot his job. Maybe great sex numbed his mind. Now the erection was all but gone.

She let out a low chuckle. "I know what's going on."

An odd sensation encapsulated his body. He became warm all over and his stomach dropped. "What would that be?"

She wagged a finger at him. "We are not working together, you know that as well as I do."

Making sure not to make any sudden moves, he wiped his brow.

"If you want to work for our company you need to create your own way and don't leech off mine."
He exhaled. "What's Lawrence going to say when we get back and finds out that I know nothing more about the company than when we started?"

Her eyes widened, even sparkled as if she discovered something. "I guess we'll have to wait and see." She bent down for her luggage.

He knew he was off his game when he saw down her jacket. The top of her breasts were right in his eyesight and his lower half awakened again.

"We need to leave." Her laptop case slipped off her shoulder.

"All right." He stood and went to her, taking her suitcase.

"I can do this." She resisted.

He put his hand over hers. She gasped and he stopped. "Jordan." They should talk. He shuddered from the base of his neck right down his legs, an uncomfortable, unwelcome vibration.

"I said we need to go, I'm still the senior person here." She grabbed her suitcase, tripping when he let go.

He caught her by the shoulders and fought the urge to pull her in and kiss her or shake her.

"Get your hands off me." She turned away.

He let go and she headed toward the front door. "I'm not sure if there will be enough room in this meeting for me, you and the elephant we're taking with us."

She shook her head. "It happened, whatever. I don't expect anything and neither should you, and it will never ever happen again."

"Well, aren't you just every man’s dream." He stood behind her.

"This is awful." She pressed her hand against her forehead.

"That's not what you said last night."

She spun on her heel to face him. "Stop it!"

Taking a step back, he held his hands up.

"Don't talk about it, don't mention it, don't joke about it." She took a deep breath, her chest rising in effort. "Just leave me alone."

"I thought…"

A stomp of her heel on the wood floor silenced him. "We are going to the meeting, we are going back and then we part. I don't even want you to wave at me near the water cooler. If you have an opportunity, send it elsewhere, I'll get my own."

"You're right, we should leave." He pushed passed her to collect his own items. A scorching hot lay maybe one thing, but he didn't need to take this, if she wanted nothing more than another one night stand, it was fine by him.

With a huff she made her way to the door and pulled. The door didn't budge and she fell right on her behind. "Oh!" Her breath knocked out of her body.

He stepped around her, making an exaggerated movement over her legs with no indication to help her. "The door is backwards."

"Everything is." She got up herself. “This cabin is the entry to backwards land.”

Now it was his turn to take hold of the knob and push. "Abracadabra."

The door didn't move.

"What will you do for your next trick?"

He tried again, and once more, even putting down his bags and using his shoulder. The door didn't give an inch. He may as well have been attempting to shove aside a boulder, or get Jordan to listen to him.

"What's going on?" She came up next to him, held the knob in both hands and shook it.

He watched her fight the battle with the door, knowing what she truly envisioned while she pushed, pulled, yanked and kicked was his face, or other part of his body.

"What is wrong with this thing?"

He scanned the room, his eyes settling on the window and he tapped his foot. Only part of the window glowed with sunlight, strange.

"This is insane." She hit the door and shook her hand.

"Careful." He didn't even consider going to her and soothing her stinging fingers. Instead he went to the window and pulled back the curtain.

"Come on!" She returned to shaking the knob.

"It's a waste of time."

"We need to go!" Her outburst was followed by another kick. "I need to get out of here." She ran back and flung her body at the unyielding door.

The thud of her body crashing into the wood caused a couple of the cheesy landscape pictures on the wall to shake. Now he needed to go over to her, wedging himself between her and the door. "We're not going anywhere."

Her eyes widened and she stared at him as if he were speaking a foreign language.

"Snow is up to the window and it must be blocking the door." He pointed behind him. "Even if we could get out, we couldn't drive in this. We’ll have to wait till it subsides and they plow the road."

"No."

"It's a fact. That’s why they put food here, it happens."

She opened her mouth and he leaned forward waiting for her to speak. All that came out was a squeak of some sort before she ran to the window. "Maybe it's just the front." Now she rushed through the cabin.

"I don't think it works that way." He followed her as she checked every window.

"It’s only half way up." She put her hands on the glass of the bedroom window. "We can climb out."

He joined her. "It's still snowing. This is going to get worse before it gets better."

"We have to go to the meeting." Her nails raked against the window.

"It's not going to happen."

She turned to him, her pale skin making her dark red lipstick stand out even more.

Without touching her he could feel her trembling, the vibration so intense it shook him, causing the hair on his arms to stand up. "Jordan, what's wrong?"

"We need to get out of here." She threw her purse to the floor and found her cell phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling 911."

"We have no cellular service."

Tossing the phone aside she charged to her laptop case and got her computer.

She fumbled, but got the machine open. "We have no internet connection."

"We discovered that last night."

She got to her feet. "We can't be stuck here!"

Now she barreled around the small space, her head turning here and there, searching and searching, for what he wasn't sure. "Jordan."

"There's a phone here." She skidded to her knees in front of a small end table and assessed the ancient device.

"It doesn't matter." He kept his distance.

She pounded the buttons, shook the receiver, and tried the buttons once more. "This doesn't work." She hit the receiver on the table and put it back up to her ear. "We have to get out of here. We have to go. We can't stay here." When the phone did nothing, she clutched it to her chest, a lifeline to nothing, and stood.

"Watch it!" Phones from that era possessed cords. Before he could do anything she took off around the cabin again.

The cord ran out of length, but she kept going. She tripped, taking a tumble in the center of the room and landing right on her face.

"Jordan!" Not caring if she wanted to be touched or not, he put his hand on her back, hating that she recoiled. "Are you all right?"

"We have to go." Her shaking worsened, causing her teeth to chatter.

"We can't."

"We have to let someone know we're here."

"They know, but they can't get to us."

"We can't be here." Her voice broke, shattered in defeat.

"We don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice." She crawled back to the door.

"It's stuck." Once more he followed.

She put her forehead to the door. "We can't be here, we can't."

When she broke down, he gathered her up in his arms. "Jordan."

"Oh God." She pushed him back.

"Jordan!" He held her tight.

In an unexpected move, she curled up and buried her head in his chest.

He let her sit in his lap. The way her body lurched told him she was crying. "About last night." A one night stand was one thing, firing her, another, but he never meant to torture her, at least not this much.

"No."

"Jordan." He reached down and lifted her chin up. Makeup streamed down her face, her tears made her red and mottled, but she was still hot.

"We're trapped." Her lower lip quivered.

"We have food and water, we'll just hang out until they clear the roads."

She took hold of his shirt collar.

"It won't be so bad."

"It's so confining here, so small." She shut her eyes but tears still escaped the corners.

"We'll be okay."

"Please get us out."

"I would if I could."

"Would you?" Her eyes opened and noticing how they were tangled together she tried to push away.

"I would." He raised his knees, preventing her from leaving.

She shook her head.

"Listen. We're going to be fine. I'll make sure of it." He clenched his fist at the sentence that was to exit his mouth next. "I'm sorry about last night."

She raised her face to his.

Why he felt he needed to explain was beyond him. They both indulged, not only him, and he performed perfectly. Maybe because they were going to be confined together and she still had things he needed. "Listen."

"Emmett, please leave it alone."

"But…"

"I didn't stop you."

It would have been easier if she blamed him. "I'm sorry we're trapped here." Now he felt personally responsible for this fiasco.

"Maybe you were meant to be here." Her tone was soft and accepting, the calm a prisoner experienced right before they were executed.

"What?"

"We're stuck."

"Yes."

Her huge light brown eyes looked to him for comfort and her body went weak. "If I was alone…"

"You're not. I'm here." Without even thinking he dipped his head down, brushing his lips against hers. "I'm right here." Now he truly kissed her. Not the crash of lips that occurred yesterday, a fulfillment of a physical need, but something else. Something he hadn't done in a long time.

She kissed him back, allowing him more access, their tongues coming together. Her taste seemed tailor made for him. Sweet and ripe, something he could indulge in for hours if they had time.

They did.

A surge of arousal overtook him when she made a slight noise. The erection he fought since he woke up bounded back in full force. Here they were alone, trapped in this cabin until the snow subsided. The way this woman riled him up with only a kiss, they could spend hours doing anything.

It took all of his strength to pull back, giving her a slight smile and brushing her hair back.

"Something's wrong with me." She touched her mouth and averted her eyes.

"I think since we're here for the duration we should get comfortable and regroup." He helped them both up. "Before you do anything, let me close the curtains. Don't look out, okay?"

"Emmett?"

"Yeah." He turned, trying to make a plan. Maybe he abated her panic attack but his seemed right on the horizon.

"Thank you."

"No, don’t thank me.” He took her in. Even with heels she was small. “Don't thank me." The image of a lust filled few days dissipated. Nothing more could happen with Jordan. It wasn't the sex, it was the kiss. "We can still make the most of this time and get some work done."

Ok – What would you do if you found yourself snowed in with a gorgeous man?

Fired Up Chapter 4

2010-07-28T09:52:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone, thank you again for all your comments. Once more we will run the same contest for comments, and I have a little question at the end of the chapter to get the comments rolling.

This week’s winner is …. Egyptian_Rose_O9
Email me your email and I will get you out your prize. Thank you!

FYI as well a the weekly contest we will be doing a really cool grand prize at the end :-) So even if you won, keep commenting. Thanks

Warning: You may notice that this blog has a warning about adult content when you log in. There is a reason and it starts with this chapter.

I hope you enjoy this next installment!

Fired Up Chapter 4

Emmett knocked on the door the second Jordan shut it. She straightened up. This wouldn't work. They were unable to work together. Two foes couldn't be on the same team and she didn't want to sleep with him again.

"Jordan?" Emmett called to her with aspartame sweetness.

"I'm sleeping."

"That isn't physically possible."

The knocking began again, but this time he entertained her with a slow rap, one every couple of seconds.

She put her back to the door and kicked off her shoes.

The knocks kept coming with the predictability of a dripping faucet.

This was no biggie. She breathed in, tapping her foot in time with the knocks. The bedroom was quaint, the perfect getaway. Right now sinking into the small double bed underneath the quilt with the hand sewn strawberries sounded heavenly.

Her foot hit the ground to time another knock, but no knock came. He stopped.

She held her breath, making her lips puff out. He stopped. She won one. Yes, he stopped, accepted the fact he would be on the couch, she would be in the bed and she wouldn't be helping him any time soon.

He stopped.

She waited for the next knock.

It never came.

She took off her suit jacket, telling herself she didn’t care if he knocked or didn’t. All she needed to do was get through the next few days without speaking too much. When they returned she would tell Lawrence her assessment. He always listened to her in the past and once he saw the types of new directions she wanted to take, everything would work out. Emmett's opinion didn't matter.

She put her ear to the door. Nothing but utter silence met her. Something was wrong with this man. She lifted her chin and went toward the bed.

The cabin was quiet, like she wanted. Quiet enough to sleep away this nightmare.

Another minute passed and she lunged toward the door, throwing it open.

There he stood, leaning on the door jamb, inspecting his fingernails.

She dug her nails into the wood. "What do you want?"

"Your paranoia is getting the best of you." He crossed his legs.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She swore she didn't notice he took off his suit jacket and tie because it didn't matter. Men always looked better when they weren't in their full war regalia.

"Exactly what I said." He inhaled. "You are paranoid."

"I really don't think that's an appropriate thing to say." She went into business mode, squaring her shoulders, chest high.

"Being appropriate or not doesn't make it less true." His eyes traveled up her body.

She hated the way he looked at her, always starting from the bottom and working his way up.

"Without your heels you're short." To prove his point he stood next to her and peered down at her. "Even when you try to be tall."

She met his eyes. The blush he mentioned before came back, hotter than ever and she felt like she was standing in front of him naked. "I don't think that's appropriate either." Her voice came out disjointed and shredded.

"Why? It's a fact." He raised his eyebrows.

"Is there something you wanted?" They stood inches apart and she willed herself to hold her ground, any movement would mean a loss.

"Now there's an inappropriate question."

"What?" She put her hands on her hips, but never broke eye contact.

He nodded. "You asked me if there was something I wanted, how am I supposed to answer?"

"The truth is always something to try. I know you may be rusty."

"All right. What I wanted to know is if me telling you I not only think you're short but beautiful is inappropriate."

She turned so hot she may as well put her head in an oven and wondered if he turned on the fireplace.

"Actually, that's a lie."

She stood with her lips parted, but no words.

"What I really wanted to know is if this would work." With his index finger extended, he reached up and flicked the button on her shirt.

She gasped when her shirt opened exposing her beige lace bra.

"Great answer." He leaned forward, his breath brushing against her face. "Do you think that's inappropriate?"

His mouth found hers. Or maybe she crushed her lips to his. She didn't know anything accept that now one of his arms encircled her, pulling her in while the other snaked inside her shirt to search for her breast.

Push him away. Do the right thing. Her inner voice screamed to be heard. Instead she took his shirt collar in her fists drawing him closer.

His kiss oozed lust mixed with purpose, and if his purpose was to make her want more, it did its job. When he opened his mouth, guiding their tongues together, her insides melted, resulting in that one of a kind feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Putting his hand over hers, he helped her rip his shirt open, the pop of the buttons better than unwrapping a present and the touch of his smooth, solid chest on her fingertips was the gift.

A moan resonated from his throat and he tilted his head the other direction without ever having his lips leave hers. His taste was sweet and salty, the type of flavor which left her craving another lick. Hell, she wanted to take a bite.

He told her with his lips and his hands what he wanted. Now he kissed her down her neck to the top of her chest and his hand hooked under her thigh, raising her leg.

She tangled her fingers in his blond hair, arching her back when he raked his nails down her stockings. "Oh."

"I think you have a run in your stocking." He tore the pantyhose away, his fingers grazing across her panties. "Would it be inappropriate if I told you I knew you were soaking wet for me?"

There was no denying what he clearly felt, she was drenched, her body yearned for some pleasure, for him. However she wouldn't be outdone. She tugged his hair, forcing him to look at her, and rubbed her hand on the outside of his pants. "About as inappropriate as if I mentioned this." His penis was so massive it escaped his briefs and snuck down his leg. Along with the length she was able to make out his thickness and her mouth watered.

"All day." He assaulted her lips again, sliding her skirt up her hips.

"What?"

"All day I've been hard for you." He tore her panties away and cupped her bottom with both hands, lifting her and bringing her right down on the floor. "And now I'm going to have relief."
He buried his face between her breasts, taking them in, tasting and taunting her while he rid himself of his pants.

Her mind screamed at her to say something. She should speak, but the way he hiked her bra up and took her nipple between his teeth left her speechless, she wanted to disappear in the shivers he created. Rather than talking, she leaned up not only to sample his mouth again, but to get her opportunity to see him.

This man should never have been in investments, a stripper or dancer would have suited him better with his broad chest and flat stomach, everything hairless making his erection seem even larger. Again she reminded herself she should talk.

Now massaging her breasts he kissed her down her stomach, pushing her legs apart. He glanced up at her and lowered his head.

There was something she needed to do, but all was forgotten when his tongue swirled over her, around and settled on that one special spot designed to make her writhe underneath him, bucking toward the source of the pleasure. "Ahhh." She reached down to find his hair and let the moment take her.

He grabbed her hand and continued. The sound of his mouth intermixed with her groaning echoed off the wood walls.

Lord help her, she wanted him. Every time she saw him, she wanted him more.

Now his tongue flicked across her, a delicious tease. "Emmett." Her voice found her but didn't say what she wanted it to.

"I love it when you say my name." He kissed each of her thighs and ran his tongue back to her center.

She bit her lip, her orgasm right there, crying to be let out. This couldn't happen again.
"Emmett." She squeezed his hand.

"You didn't let me have dinner."

"Emmett."

"Did you want to say something?"

The next sentence would change everything, but she was powerless, a mass of quivering jelly, one touch and she would dissolve. "Do you have a condom?"

"So I do get dessert."

She heard him fumbling with his pants and the crinkle of the cellophane wrapper. He slid along her body, kissing her until he made his way back to her lips where his taste melded with hers and he pressed the package into her hand.

She ripped the wrapper open with her teeth. As she sheathed him she took her turn to touch him and she wrapped her hand around him, giving him a series of slow strokes, rubbing her thumb across the head of his member and kissing his neck. While she may be wet, he was weeping for her as well.

"Jordan." He grabbed her hips and turned to his back. His penis so engorged it stood straight up.
With him giving her control, she became even more aroused and straddled him, taking her time to slide down his length.

"Jeez." He threw his head back. "You're tight."

She braced herself on his chest and ground against him, keeping him embedded deep inside her.

He sucked in his breath, alternately thrusting up and tensing his legs. "Like that."

They found their rhythm, moving together in a perfect synchronized dance designed to move them both toward their end.

He leaned up and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her and tangling his fingers in her hair. "So good."

"Oh." She dug her fingers into his arms, loving how he captured her gasp with his mouth, held her, directed her.

"I want to make you come."

"I am." Her body was ready, her mind needed to let go, but it was building, climbing, close.

"Not yet." He held on to her as he turned them over.

She whimpered when he left her.

"Hold on." He entered her once more.

The weight of his body on hers, his breath on her neck, one hand kneading her breast, he was everywhere. He drove into her, pounding thrusts opening her body, and she did her best to keep up with him, but found herself becoming lost. "Emmett."

"Come." He demanded and sped up.

They reached the point, the point where the only sounds in the room was their flesh colliding, his grunts and her disjointed breaths. It was happening now, the tightness in her stomach, the unique moment right before the world focused only on where they were joined.

She screamed her release. The pulses drew Emmett further into her, not wanting to let go of the source of the euphoria.

"Damn." He came with a hard force, pushing and leaning back as he emptied himself.
"Yes." He fell on top of her, panting, but still rolling his hips.

She kept her eyes closed expecting him to vanish, but he never did, he was a considerate bed mate. Rather than being left cold on the floor, he stayed. Feather light, his finger tips touched her still erect nipples and as he disengaged them from one another he kissed, licked and sucked her neck.

Though she didn’t think it was possible to be turned on again, her body disobeyed. He didn't stop, insisting on feeding her last few glowing embers of desire. "Emmett."

"You only ever call me by name when we’re having sex."

"Really." Talk about in inappropriate. They needed to stop. The fantasy faded on the floor, yet if he wanted her again right now she wouldn't protest.

"You have another one for me."

"Another what?"

"Orgasm."

"No."

"Yes you do, you're grinding against my leg." He slid his hand away from her breast, down her side, satisfying her with two fingers.

"I can't." She wanted to.

"I think you can." He let her have another digit.

She turned toward his chest, taking in the scent of pure sex in the air, wanting to hide, but needing to come. Circular movements right where she needed them. Slow, slow with the perfect amount of pressure. "Help."

"I'm helping."

She shook her head. "Please."

"You're there."

Her climax hit her hard. This one seemed to last forever, her body in a crest of continuing contractions. "Emmett." She bit her lip and rode it out. Only after the bliss faded into exhaustion did she get the chance to appreciate how his motions subsided allowing her sensitive body to recover. Some men innately knew how to do this.

Unable to move, she shut her eyes. The endorphins dying down, she didn't have time for any afterglow.

Relief washed over her when Emmett got up. The entire rest of this ill fated trip would be nothing but the world's longest walk of shame.

She heard the bathroom door close and she forced herself into action. Springing up, she removed the wrinkled, tattered remains of her clothing, vowing to throw the suit away the first chance she got. She rushed to her bag, donned a nightgown and dove into the bed, pulling the covers up over her head.

The sound of Emmett's humming permeated from the bathroom and the bile burned the back of her throat. He was happy. Why wouldn't he be? He got his rocks off and now could go relax on the couch. She gave him the perfect situation, handed it to him on a silver platter with a pair of ripped pantyhose as a garnish. On the other hand she was totally screwed. Literally.

His footsteps banged through cabin. Now a cabinet door opened in the kitchen and the water ran.

Wanting to know what he was going to do, she pounded her fist into the mattress, wishing she closed the bedroom door so she wouldn't be subjected to hearing his every move.

The cabin became quiet and she lay still waiting with a strange, sad nausea stirring in her stomach. Did she want him to come in, or stay away? Was he going to offer her a glass of water, or go to bed now that he had what he wanted? Now they worked together. This was a huge fiasco.

Even under the covers she put her hand over her eyes willing herself to get the stomach flu so she could vomit.

"You’ll suffocate if you sleep like this."

A splash of cool air from the covers being lifted following by the bed dipping indicated Emmett joined her. "I don't think you should be here."

"This isn’t the first night we’ve shared a bed." He yawned. "Tomorrow's meeting should be interesting."

She closed her eyes but not because she would sleep anytime soon. "Why?"

"Because the entire time you're presenting all I'll be able to think about is you screaming out my name after I made you come a second time."

"You know…"

"That was inappropriate." He cut her off. “This was incredible, no joke, better than before. Let's leave it at that until the end of this trip."

Any person who owned a vagina would be questioning the inner meaning of his statement. "We should sleep."

The bed creaked when he settled himself. "Look at the snow."

She had sex with Emmett. Dirty, lustful, intense sex that left her wanting more. She peeked out from the blankets. Continuous white streaks blew across the window. "We better leave extra early tomorrow." The faster they left the faster they would be on their way to separate hotel rooms.

They lay in silence and all she could think about was the male form next to her. Her stomach rolled again and she relished in the sick sensation. No one night stand ended with the two of them skipping into work together. Of course what they did wasn’t technically a one night stand. Two night stand? Whatever it was, she may have to reconsider some of her old strategies to get him out of her job and out of her life.

Ok: Should Jordan have given in that easily?

Fired Up Chapter 3

2010-07-20T21:13:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone, thank you again for your amazing support. Once more we will run the same contest for comments!

This week’s winner is …. Wait for it… wait for it…. DaFatGnome!
Email me your email and I will get you out your prize. Thank you!

I hope you enjoy this next installment!
P.S. A quick good luck to Ashtastic who is taking the bar next Tuesday (this authoress is very happy she will have her partner in crime back)

Fired Up Chapter Three

"Let me help you with your bags." In an attempt to be a gentleman, Emmett reached for Jordan's computer case. The fierce wind blew her hair into her face and she repeatedly swiped her locks aside as she tried to get the key into the lock, he wanted to help instead of watching her struggle.

The walk from the car to the cabin door seemed like ten miles rather than twenty feet. While he stumbled, Jordan’s heels nearly made her fall face first into the snow. When he steadied her, she didn't even bother with a dirty look, only jerked away from him and forced her way toward the door.

"I got it." She wrenched her shoulder to adjust the strap and managed to get the key inside the lock.

"Let's go in." It was flipping freezing and he rubbed his own arms. Yes, he brought a sweater but the thin designer yarn wouldn’t prepare him for this chill, especially since it was in his suitcase.

"I'm trying." She turned the key and pushed on the door. The door didn't budge and she toppled backwards right into him.

"Careful." He caught her, cradling her in his arms and admitting to himself he copped a feel of the side of her breast. Her mound was round, ripe and overflowing out of the side of her bra.

"I'm fine!" She squirmed out of his arms, shooting him a glare.

"Would you rather I let you fall?" He held his arms out and away.

"I would rather…" She shut her mouth and turned back to the door.

"What would you rather do?" He stood directly behind her and whispered on the back of her neck, hoping her answer was as good as some of her other lines. When she arched her back, he smiled at his minor success. He got to her a little which was fair since she was getting to him a lot.

"There are many things I would rather be doing right now." She slammed her body into the door causing her to hit her head with a thud.

Again, she landed in his arms. He held her under the shoulders, dangling her above the slushy snow. "I agree."

"Oh." Her bags dropped, hooking on her elbows when she reached for her head.

"I think once more we need a man." He lifted her, taking the initiative to rub her head himself. Even in her heels she stood at least four inches shorter than him and her proximity allowed him to catch something else, a whiff of her perfume mixed with her shampoo. Flowers and clean hair rolled into one.

For one second she allowed him to soothe the tiny bump forming, and suddenly as if remembering what was happening, she brushed his hand away and stepped aside, motioning toward the entrance.

They went to the door and he reached around her and gave the door a shot, expecting the lock to give right into him. When nothing budged, he twisted the knob.

With her hand still on her forehead, Jordan began tapping her foot and not wanting to fail he yanked the door toward him.

The door released, flinging open, almost causing him to take a tumble. "Stupid door opens the wrong way!" He wanted to kick the crappy thing for making him appear stupid in front of the woman he needed to best.

“Everything’s backwards,” she huffed.

“Maybe everything’s the way it should be.” He motioned for her to go ahead. “Ladies first."

She gathered her bags and took metered steps through the slush past him.

"You're welcome." He followed her in, turning on the lights.

"Damn it." She tossed her bags aside.

He turned around the space. The miniscule cabin was the personification of hotel cheese. Every available surface was wood planked, the only exception being a smoke stained red brick fireplace with black wrought iron fittings which took up one wall. The furniture was stuck in a decade or style he would rather forget, with a floral print couch, oak tables, and a rust colored rug. In one corner was a kitchenette, and at the far end a door he assumed led to a bedroom or bathroom.

She sat down on the couch, closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Since we have determined we need a man on this excursion, and I fit the bill, I will be the one to procure us heat." He walked the perimeter of the cabin, set the thermostat and ended up at a two burner stove.

Out of curiosity he opened a cabinet. Canned foods were stacked in the shelves and a note was taped inside. "They filled this with food because of the snow. No candy or pizza though." He glanced behind him. She was still in the same position, only now she was leaning forward a little, almost like she was ready to throw up. "Hey." He closed the refrigerator and went over to her, sitting down on the table.

"I can't believe this."

"This isn't what we're used to, but once we get to the retreat it will be first class." The place was a dump and girls hated that more than guys, though he was no fan either. "They probably made it look better on the internet when you booked it."

"This is exactly what I wanted." She lifted her head and focused on the fireplace. "It doesn't matter."

Her voice sounded like she lost a deal, or a job. He scratched his eyebrow at her revealing her soft spot. She chose a place made for a couple to stay by herself. He could dig his fingers into this if he wanted. "It does matter."

She glanced at him.

He moved from the table to the sofa and noticed her brown eyes were glazed over, like melted chocolate. Did this far away place and the tears have anything to do with why she was losing her job? "Why don't we take our mind off this?" He still needed to complete his task and he needed this job, bad.

"How would you suggest we do that?"

When she rolled her eyes, he curled his upper lip over his teeth, biting down to make sure he didn't truly answer her question. "Why don't you tell me about the account we're going to see tomorrow?" He elbowed her. "I'm still in training and it would look bad on both of us if I went in totally green."

She clutched the sofa cushion. "I like this account."

This account would be his account. "I won't bite them or pee on the floor."

A strangled chuckle escaped her throat. She attempted to keep the laugh imprisoned but it went AWOL. "It's a smaller company who wants to invest for the employees' retirement." She reached over and grabbed her computer, turning it on and opening up a presentation.

He scanned the document performing a quick calculation in his head. "Why are you taking on a client this small?"

"What do you mean?" She moved the screen away from him.

"You don't play in that sandbox."

"We play in any sandbox." Her voice hardened, turning into a cocked weapon.

"How much can we possibly make with something like this?" He pointed at her computer, taking the offensive. "Jordan?"

"This is a viable opportunity with a steady commission." She fired at him.

"The commission you would make on this wouldn't pay for your nail polish." He deflected her bullet.

"This is why I didn't want you here, you have no foresight." She turned her back to him.

"Well my lack of foresight nets someone some cash." He tapped her. "At least propose some higher risk options."

"They can't take risk." She hugged her computer. "I just told you they are small."

"Were not as moral as lawyer's, we don't take pro bono cases."

"This is the trend."

"Since when?" He leaned forward, taking in her profile. The woman was always so dammed hot, especially when she squared her jaw and was pissed.

"Well at least I know why Lawrence hired you."

"Tell me." No reaction left his body. He was the master at not showing his cards, making him wish she wanted to play strip poker.

"You're both from the good old boy's network." She glanced at him.

"I think you're better than this." He put his hand on her computer and moved closer to her face.

"What do you know?" She whispered, her eyelids lowered showing off her lashes.

"I know you're blushing."

The redness in her cheeks intensified.

"I know we should have had something better than trail mix or pizza for dinner." He kept up his march into enemy camp and his eyes trekked down to her cleavage. Her button wanted to explode. "I know maybe we should have teamed up a long time ago."

He swooped in to claim his prize at having won yet another round, when his face was met with nothing but a blast of cool air.

She stood, her eyes slits. "Stay away from me and out of my business."

"Right now I am your business." He followed her as she swept up her possessions and stomped toward the bedroom.

She tossed her items inside the room and spun on her heel in the doorway. "That was the bulk of your training.”

"Don't do this, Jordan."

"If you like, I'll put out a potty pad for you." She grabbed the door.

"You're paranoid." He took one step into the bedroom. "What are you hiding, Miss Paxton? What don't you want Lawrence and me to know?"

She tried to shove the door closed.

He kept his foot planted on the other side. "Why would you rent a cabin like this? Did you need to drown your sorrows?"

"Screw you." With both hands she pushed on the door.

This time he let the door slam and hit the wall. "Who said you get the only bed?"

"You're such a man, figure it out."

He wouldn’t allow Jordan to ruin this job for him. He crossed his arms and leaned back to decide his next move.

Fired Up Chapter 2

2010-07-13T18:09:00.000-07:00

Hi all,
First thank you so much for your incredible support for the story. It really felt wonderful to share with you!

Drawing: We will be running the same drawing this week, so please leave comments…

I had my little son pick a name from a hat and the winner is….
LGF945 - YAY Send me your email!!

Here’s the second installment. Thank you for reading!

Fired Up Chapter 2

"Can you not look at your phone when you’re driving us through a mountain pass?" Jordan held her own phone up wrinkling her nose at the lack of a cell site. She needed to make some calls, but didn't want to speak in front of her new co-worker and now it was too late.

"You've been looking at your phone this entire time." Emmett tossed his device onto the console. "I've got no reception anyway."

"You insisted on driving. It's illegal to touch your phone and drive." Three days of this would land her in a spa for the criminally insane.

He reached over and poked his phone with his index finger. "Maybe we should call the cops."

"I'm sure by the end of this trip we'll have reason enough." She closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

“Or the hospital since you won’t let me eat.” He definitely whined.

“I gave you plenty of options.” She lifted her bag of trail mix she’d been munching on. Her custom blend of nuts, fruits and treats felt like something one should eat in the mountains.

He reached in a picked out five M&M’s. He did that every time he took a sample.

“You’re supposed to eat it all together.” He would throw her mixture off.

“I don’t understand trail mix.” He crunched down on the candy. “The only good part is the chocolate, why mix it with all the other crap?”

“Never mind.” He didn’t understand, and she wasn’t going to explain.

“We are going to stop and eat.”

His tone took on one of a superior. It didn’t work for her, and she didn’t work for him. “No we’re not. I’m just going to order a pizza later.”

“Pizza?” He laughed. “What kind?”

“Everything, even anchovies.”

“So you like food that is just all mixed up and thrown together.”

“Yep, exactly like this trip.” She took her bag of trail mix back, he could starve and she would be the one with plenty of energy from her fabulous concoction.

"I don't know what you're so upset about."

His tone teased her. This man was nothing but a bully. "I just find it odd you would work for the enemy."

"Some offers are too good to refuse." He raised his shoulders.

A car came down the other side of the mountain illuminating her nemesis and she turned away once she caught herself staring at his profile.

Emmett Lang was good looking. Not average good looking, or the kind of good looking you remembered after you got home from a date and you tilted your head and thought: yes he is good looking. Emmett Lang was the kind of good looking which turned women into speechless giggling masses of estrogen.

"So what are you doing here anyway?" Maybe if she didn't look directly at him, she wouldn't get sucked into his evil vortex of blond messy hair and deadly blue eyes. She wouldn't even allow herself to become entranced by the masculine square shape of his face only softened by his you-need-to-spank-me smile. She dug through her purse, bending down to catch a whiff of gum, ink and makeup, anything to get rid of his masculine cologne choking the car.

"Oh, didn't you hear? I'm learning from the best." He waved his fist in the air exactly how Lawrence did before they left. "Tell me all I need to know. We're teammates now."

If the man wasn't serious she would have laughed. She possessed only three items of any worth: her brain, her leads and the password to her computer.
Right now she would use her most valuable asset to make sure he gained nothing from her. "Oh, we work for Holler and Schmidt Investments." She shoved a piece of gum in her mouth, even the minty freshness couldn't stop the little bit of vomit forming in the back of her throat.

"Yeah, that's what it said on the door." He strummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Any other pearls of wisdom?"

"Invest wisely."

"You're supposed to be training me."

"What do you need training on?"

"Well, I am at a new firm."

"That's right." She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling of the car. "Well, Donna in personnel doesn't like it if you get your expense reports in late, make sure you fill them out exactly or it causes a rift in her space-time continuum." Before he had a chance to comment she continued. "Marla, Lawrence's assistant, is crazy about her cat. His name is Ludwig and she celebrates his birthday at the office so make sure you bring a gift, he doesn't like catnip because his palate is much more refined."

Emmett kept his hands at ten and two, eyes forward, smile gone.

"Lawrence is a sucker for milk chocolate. I suggest you keep some at your desk." She gasped, putting her fingers over her mouth. "I probably shouldn't have told you that, it's my personal secret weapon. Now I've gone and done it."

"Perfect. That's just what I wanted, inside information." He sucked in his cheeks and made a clicking sound. "Someone is threatened by my appearance."

"Your appearance is perfect." The words ran amok out of her mouth and she breathed in to start anew, hoping he didn’t pick up on her error.

Emmett not only picked it up, he took her statement and carried it with him. "Well, thank you. Your appearance is quite nice as well." He turned toward her. "In fact, extremely nice."

Blood boiled to the surface of her skin, turning her face hot to the touch, her fingers cooling her down enough to allow her to correct herself. "What I meant to say is your appearance is great." Even clawing her own nails into her forehead didn't stop her mouth. "I mean…"

He cut her off. "Stop right there, I went from perfect to merely great. However, you’re still extreme."

The navigation system swooped in to her aid, announcing for them to turn.

"We're almost there." Today's torture was almost at an end.

"Why aren't we staying where the corporate retreat is taking place?" Emmett turned the car onto small road lined on either side with pine trees.

"At the time it sounded good." She wanted to use this as a mini retreat and booked a small cabin. Work was tough and she was trying to make some changes and she didn't want to reveal anything to this spy in GQ clothing.

"And now not so good?"

She delved into her purse once again and pulled out the key they sent her and information she had on the place. "I have my key. Maybe you could drop me off at my cabin first."

"We're not sharing?"

"Never again." She tried calling the main cabin a couple of times on their way up to get him a room, but was forced to leave a message. Hopefully they had a cabin for him and it was ready to go.

"Too bad."

When he forced out his lower lip and she found herself assessing it she hit her bag to take her mind off him.

The car swerved on some snow in the road. "Whoa." His cockiness vanished along with his lip, and he sat up.

"Watch it." She clutched her purse to her chest.

"I think I was distracted by something else." He righted the car and slowed down.

"What could be more distracting than all this snow?"

"Something extreme." He tilted his head in her direction and continued driving.
"Let's just get there." She motioned ahead, studying the road. The higher they went the more snow stuck to the ground. "The snow is getting worse."

"Good thing I put the chains on the tires."

"It was nice to have a man when I needed one." What was her problem? She straightened her back, and even though it needed to crack she didn't move.

"I am at your service, anytime." His statement was followed by a subtle laugh.

She managed to stay silent and at long last they pulled into the area which housed the little cabins. The place was exactly like she pictured, tiny log houses scattered among the trees with a dusting of snow. A living postcard.

"The main lodge is right there, let me get checked in and then I'll drop you off." He pulled up in front of the largest cabins and stopped the car.

"Whatever." She rubbed her temple as he got out. He went to the door, but didn't enter and she now watched him struggle, his body jolting back and forth, and even cupping his hand over his mouth as if he were yelling.

When he came back to the car holding his arms up she ground her teeth together.

"Looks as though we are sharing a cabin after all." He slid back in the seat.

The cold from outside reached her and she wrapped her arms around herself. "Go get a cabin."

"There was a note saying they’re all rented out and closed because of the snow."

"No." She picked up her phone. "No, we'll just call." She dialed and put the phone to her ear, when nothing happened she thrust the instrument front of her. "I have no signal, check yours!"

He lifted his phone above his head. "Nothing, not even roaming."

She covered her eyes trying to think.

"The snow is incredible. Look Jordan."

She didn't like the way he said her name. He put too much emphasis on the 'J' drawing it out. "The computer!" She shot up and got on her knees to reach into the back seat, struggling but managing to fetch her beloved machine. "We can find something."

"We are sort of in the middle of nowhere." He turned the car around.

"You know, let’s go to where the account is having their corporate retreat." She flipped the computer on, shuddering when a strong gust of wind shook the car.

"Jordan."

"We'll make reservations on-line." She clicked to go to the internet hoping it would be able to receive signal even if her phone was DOA.

Emmett leaned over.

She glanced down at his hair. His locks were definitely natural and smelled good. It had been a long time since she was this close to a real man.

"You have no connection." He reached for the keyboard.

"Don’t!" She caught his hand. He had a man's hand, a bit rough and plenty large.

"What's wrong?"

She tossed his appendage away from her. "I got it." For several minutes she implored the computer to reach civilization. When she found herself batting her eyelashes at the screen in an effort to flirt her way into the world, she knew it was worthless, either they couldn't get a connection or she received the ultimate rejection. "Let's just drive there, it’s only a little over an hour away, that's nothing."

"Maybe in Los Angeles." He pointed to the windshield.

The windshield was completely white. "We have chains on the car."

He shook his head.

"You know you are such a man you should be able to do this no problem." This time she meant to say it.

He leaned back in the seat.

"We have to find you a place to stay."

He retrieved his phone and began playing a game.

The synthetic happy music echoed through the car.

"Unbelievable." She banged her head against the window.

"Watch it. We need that later for when you train me."

"I'm not training you." She rubbed her forehead.

"Every time I see you I'm learning, so you lose."

She slammed her computer shut. "Funny, last time I saw you I remember it was you who lost."

“Was that the same time you were wearing that little red dress?” He looked up and rubbed his chin.

“I’m sure I was wearing a business suit.” She chewed her lip to digest her lie. The dress was red and short and she wore it with heels. He wore a black suit, white shirt, red tie. She remembered thinking they matched and her teeth ground together.

“When I picked it up off my apartment floor in the morning, I distinctly remember it being a red dress.” He turned to her. “Matching bra and panties, nice touch.”

The coil forming in her stomach wasn’t all from anger. It was the same spring which tightened every time they met and the last time she gave in. She inhaled and faced him. “Suit or dress I still won.”

"Do you really want to go up against me right now?" His elbow hit the center console and he propped his chin in his hand, providing the ideal pedestal for his face to rest upon.

This time she refused to have her tongue twisted. She bent down until they were nose to nose. "I'll go up against you anytime."

"I welcome the moment." His eyes traveled from her face to her chest.

"Let's get to the cabin." The spring snapped. She lost this round, but she would be ready for the next, a night in a cabin with Emmett Lang.

Fired Up Chapter 1

2010-07-07T08:31:00.000-07:00

Hi all, welcome to our first ever blog story!

We will be updating this every week and giving away prizes for those who leave comments. This week it will be PDF version of one of our old stories – We will announce the winner next Wednesday. All you have to do is leave a comment!

I’m looking forward to seeing your reaction to this!
Kim

Fired Up – Chapter 1

"You want me to tell this person they're fired?" Emmett Lang tilted his chair back taking in his boss' office. The high-rise view of the city and modern furnishings were standard for the investment field, but for the salary they were paying him, he hoped his office was better than this one.

His new boss, Lawrence Schmidt, clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "Find out what the hell she's doing and then…" He made a motion as if he were slitting his own throat. "Can you do that?"

Quick job changes in this business weren’t unusual, but it was nice to be on the hiring end for a change. Everything was fast, buying, selling, profit, loss. You got in did your job and went to the next one. He twirled his cell phone on the leg of his pants. "If you pay me enough I can do anything."

"That's why we hired you."

Even with Lawrence in mid-sentence, his eyes darted down to his phone. No new messages. This was the beginning of the phone-job cycle. Nothing, followed by too much, followed by nothing. He needed to turn this nothing into something fast, he wanted to be planted somewhere for a while. "What's the problem?"

"She lost it."

"Money?"

“Her edge, it’s dull.” Lawrence shook his head and inhaled when his intercom buzzed.

"Mr. Schmidt, she's here." A sing-song female came through the speaker.

Before he answered, Lawrence leaned over his desk. "Get the goods and get rid of her." He pressed the button on his phone. "Send her in."

Emmett sat up, picturing her type before she entered. He could play this game with his phone tied behind his back. This woman was no doubt the fifty-something-year-old who gave up family for a career. Now bitter, broken and middle aged, this huge box would charge in here and hate him the second she saw him.

Good. He tilted his head from side to side cracking his neck. She could hate him as much as she wanted. He wasn't fond of these women who felt entitled because they owned a vagina. She could yell, cry or beg, but the outcome would remain the same. He was only the over-priced delivery boy.

A vibration on his leg signaled an email, text or call and he lifted his link to the world.

The office door opened. "Lawrence, I'm on my way to a business trip."

Emmett stared down at the device. Two items came through, a text from his mother who was telling him she learned how to text, and an email for male enhancement. He didn't need either of those things, especially the latter.

"I know. I have a surprise for you." Lawrence's voice became higher, happy as if he were presenting a child with a new puppy when she wanted a pony. "Jordan Paxton, this is Emmett Lang. He's going to be going with you on your trip so you can show him the ropes."

"Jordan?" His muscles tensed and he squeezed his phone, the plastic creaking in complaint before he let loose. "Jordan Paxton." He faced her praying the woman changed.

She didn't, not one bit.

"Unbelievable." She pointed at him and threw her arms up.

He supposed he hadn’t changed either, but he would win the last round with her. In fact, with her job he already crushed her. The image of his thumb squashing her like an insignificant bug caused him to smile and he held his hand out. "Good to see you again."

"So you know each other, how wonderful." Lawrence motioned for her, trying to corral her around the desk.

"What is he doing here?" She stepped back, glaring at his hand.

"Emmett is going to be working with you, we discussed this."

"I also thought we discussed hiring someone else was unnecessary."

While his new boss and this almost former employee argued about him, in front of him, he observed her. The battle-axe he first pictured was the same bitch of a bombshell he met last year.

Jordan Paxton. She came complete with every bell and whistle, and even some extra options. Her luscious legs extended from her grey skirt suit ending in a pair of high heels and her hand on her hip outlined the inward curve of her waist. Making his way up, he stopped at her boobs. The proper grey dress shirt she donned struggled to keep her contained. One flick of a finger and those buttons would burst forth their bounty.

"Our account is not expecting anyone else at this meeting." She pursed her pretty pink lips together.

"You know as well as I do they love it when you bring in new people. It makes them feel important."

Her full lips played off her prim and proper features, all sized perfectly to create the ideal backdrop to a set of humongous brown eyes. No doubt those eyes got many men into a lot of trouble, himself included.

Only two things betrayed this woman as an investment expert, her suit, of course, and her stick straight shoulder length auburn hair. If she allowed any wave to that hair and put on a pair of tight jeans and an equally tight t-shirt she would look like a model. A mistake he wouldn't make again.

"We're going up into the mountains for their company retreat." She tapped her foot.

"I'm good in all kinds of weather." Emmett got up off the chair. "I packed a sweater."

"You already packed." She stepped backwards, a definite sign of retreat.

"This is the perfect time for the two of you to get reacquainted. Go get your team spirit flowing." Lawrence waved his fist back and forth, ready to start cheering.

Her eyes shifted between the two of them.

"Make sure you have a great dinner tonight. Just expense it." Lawrence clapped.
"You can pick the restaurant." Emmett gave her a smile fit to be on a box of cereal.

"I have a lot of work to do tonight." She sidestepped toward the door.

"You have to eat." Lawrence gave her a thumbs up. "Emmett will help you, just delegate to him."

"Delegate to me." He echoed his boss’ words and bowed slightly.

"I'm leaving in thirty minutes."

"I'll meet you at the front." Emmett waved.

With a slight shake of her head, she left.

His adrenaline ebbed into a calm euphoria better than closing a deal. He held the power and the job. "See you in a few days."

Purple Corn & an Announcement

2010-07-03T21:55:00.000-07:00

Ok, I admit it I am a fan of purple corn. Purple corn? Yes, there is a corn, and it is purple and it rocks.

I discovered said purple corn when researching corn for our work in progress (who’s working title right now is Purple Corn until Ashley reads this and finishes the bar and renames the story after she chides me for calling the story Purple Corn), but I digress. So, I was researching about corn, and the different types of corn, and corn usage, and trying to see how many times I can fit the word corn into one sentence when I stumbled on Maiz Morado – Purple Corn.

The heroine of the story is a corn expert and is in love with this corn.

Here are some very interesting facts about Purple Corn…

The purple corn seeds are a deep purple almost black which makes me like them even more.

It is used mostly in Peru and South America.

It is totally edible.

This corn is becoming more popular as it is being studied for its supposed high level of healthy antioxidants (any of you who know me know I am a total fan of green tea which is chock full of antioxidants, so this fit right in).

In my quest for all things purple corn, I bought three cans off of Amazon.com (One for me, one for Ash, and one for me and Ash to eat if she ever finishes this test which I hope is soon, because honestly taking the bar is obnoxious for the innocent bystanders).

It is packaged by the Teasdale Company and they tell us on the can that it will add flavor to my very best Holiday meals, so I thank them for that handy tip.

In case anyone was wondering, it has 90 calories per half cup, no cholesterol, 1 gram of fat, 2 grams of protein and 2 grams or 8% of my daily fiber.

On another note, the first installment of “Fired Up” will be uploaded on Wednesday and every week until its conclusion. Ashley and I will be doing a drawing out of those who leave comments. Prizes are not limited to, but will include PDF copies of some of our old stories of our choice.

Until then, if you would like to let me know what you think about Purple Corn, or our drawing, or anything in particular, please do so.

Purple Corn, Purple Corn (Sung to the tune of the great song Purple Rain, of course!)

Over and out…

Bad Boys - Whatcha Gonna Do?

2010-06-05T16:25:00.000-07:00

I love bad boys.

I really love bad boys.

I think most women at one point or another love a bad boy. There is something about them. The swagger, the clothes, the attitude. Who doesn’t want to take a bad boy and make him good? Or at least make them good for you?

I won’t bore anyone reading this with a diatribe on what a bad boy is, I will however share with you some of my favorite bad boys. This list is MY list of bad boys, not THE list of bad boys. You will not find James Dean here.

1. Steven Tyler – Lead singer of Aerosmith. He’s not traditionally good-looking, but I would say he would be the crown jewel of sex. I mean if someone entered you in a contest and you won the opportunity to have sex with Steven Tyler I think it would be your moral and ethical obligation to have sex with him. In fact, if you are married or in a relationship having sex with Steven Tyler would not be considered cheating, I would think if it more of a lesson. Something for the good of humanity, like solving global warming.

2. Puck from Glee – He is a recent addition to my list. His character likes older women – all the better – or should I say growl. He has/had a Mohawk, he doesn’t really care about anyone but himself, and he’s sort of a jerk. Still he sang Beth to Quinn, and he’s hot and I like guys with Mohawks so there.

3. Westley from the Princess Bride – He’s a rogue and a bad boy and he’s smart. He also has great lines and I like his hair. Every bad boy has to have good hair, it’s the law.

4. Any man in organized crime – There is something about your man carrying a gun and willing to kill for you that is sort of enticing. The constant danger of organized crime keeps the adrenaline flowing and therefore sexual tension is high. I like all mobsters from the outlaws of the old west, to the guys in the 40’s who wore a hat (to cover their good hair), to the cheesy casino guys of the 70’s, to modern day techno mob guys.

5. Johnny Rotten – Any talk of bad boys needs more than one rock star, so I will choose Johnny Rotten as my man for all things punk rock. I love punk rock, or at least the thought of it, and I like men that are pierced, as if they had to stick something sharp through their skin to prove a point. I also like men who think they’re singing for a greater cause than themselves even if you can’t understand them. I think if you got Johnny Rotten in a room and he put his head in your lap he would open up and tell you his inner wounds and that is what makes him so wonderful.

6. Batman – Christian Bale Version – I like Batman. He’s tortured. He wears a ton of black. He won’t allow himself to get involved with anyone because he may hurt them and that only makes all of us want him all the more. Plus he has really cool gadgets. Also Christian Bale is a bad boy with his temper tantrums and such. A bad boy playing a bad boy, bonus.

So, why write about bad boys in this blog? Well, because I like them, and Ash likes them, and I tend to have them often as my heroes.

Now if I could only get the above list to bend over my knee for a good spanking.

It would be for the greater good, really.

Tell me about the bad boys you would like to add to this list.

Starting A New Story…AKA – I feel like I want to whine…

2010-05-09T17:11:00.000-07:00

Life is a little crazy right now. I just got back from a sales meeting, any of you who know me know that travel is not my bag. There is just something unnatural about being propelled five miles up in the air on a tiny flying missile. Also, trying to figure out what to bring is a pain, and then there is the fact that this is not a vacation - no vacation I would ever take would involve air travel, Florida and no shopping. So I am out of sorts.

Adding to my sortless state is Ashley is currently in the throws of studying for her final exams of law school which will be capped off by three months of studying for the bar.

So I am basically a piece of flotsam floating in the sea of loneliness by myself (how’s that for melodramatic? I think it was a pretty good whine too.)

It was not like Ashley did not plan for this three month hiatus. She is the planner of the two of us. In fact, we are starting a brand new full-length contemporary story - my first since the entire Seth debacle which I still have not recovered from. This story was a lot in the making and went through many incarnations before we decided on the plot, and now the story features an incredibly sexy hero and a heroine we both love.

Honestly, I wanted to write the new Seth which opens up an entirely new can of worms, but when you decide to try to get published you have to make some grown up decisions, and those decisions did not involve him. (More whining)

Starting a new story is strange. You open up your computer document, you know what you want to write, but you haven’t yet really met these characters yet and for me the only way I get to know them is by writing. Right now that is very hard because I want to whine. But I will get through it, and now that I have an idea about what my hunky bad-boy hero is like, I may – just may – like him better than Seth.

Anyway, to give you all an update on where things are at…

Fired Up – The story that will be replacing my whining on this blog is done – it will be gone through by Ashtastic and then off to our critquer. When it comes back we will get going with that.

Moonlit Rescue – The short story we wrote to (crosses fingers) get published is back from the critiquer. While Ash is finishing becoming a lawyer I will be writing the query letter and synopsis and getting it ready to send out.

New story – Working title – New Jack – Yes there was an old Jack, this is now the new Jack (Just like there is an old and new Seth). He has one paragraph, a bunch of notes, a list of questions for Ashley and a playlist on my ipod.

Hopefully by this time tomorrow he will have a few pages – just as long as I don’t have to get on another plane.

Before I sign off and decide to whine to something other than my computer screen, Happy Birthday to my best friend & writing partner!

187 KB

2010-04-18T13:14:00.000-07:00

My very first computer (A Mac II si – it was very swanky) had an 8 MB hard drive. I was a star! How would I ever fill 8 MB? It was huge, too good to be true.

Today, my new computer has a 1 terabyte hard drive. It is backed up by a 200 gigabyte external hard drive, and in my desk drawer I have a flash drive with 2 gigabytes (and I consider that small). My flash drive is larger than my first hard drive by many times over.

Let’s put that in perspective.

1 Terabyte is 1000 Gigabytes
1 Gigabyte is 1000 Megabytes
1 Megabyte is 1000 Kilobytes

Right now on my computer is a file that is 187 KB.

It is the most important file on my computer.

It is the completed short story that Ash and I are hoping to submit to publishers soon.

It's amazing how much work goes into 187 KB.

187 KB holds over a years worth of work – 15,000 words

It holds lessons I learned about myself, writing, people and life.

It holds a story that still makes me cry when I read it.

It holds every emotion, crying when I messed up, cheering when I got something.

It holds the memory of me and Ashley literally acting out the scenes to make sure they were possible, and it holds the image of me breaking down in Starbucks when I didn’t understand passive voice and told her I never would. (God bless my best friend, she explained it over fifteen times I’m sure)

It holds one of the strangest passages I ever wrote when I was convinced I could write without the word ‘was.’ (Actually it doesn’t hold that anymore, writing without was doesn’t work btw.)

It also holds the first good feedback I got from one of my writing classes. That was a joyous day.

Today, 187 KB holds hope…that may be bigger than 1 terabyte.

Outakes

2010-03-30T20:35:00.000-07:00

Outtakes are scenes or parts of scenes that worked at one time, then they didn't work, and now they're these floating fragments of homeless words that entertain only the author(s).

What makes a good outtake?

-It has only meaning to the author(s)
-It does not move the scene forward in any way shape or form
-It almost always includes your favorite character because that is who you are obsessed with.
-It is the few sentences that will make you laugh every time you read them
-These are the words you will fight for. If you were a general, those perfect paragraphs would be the country you are defending.
- These are also the words that your writing partner will rip away from you while you cry and tell her that the story would be perfect if only the outtake turned back into an intake.

Sometimes, but rarely, the outtake can be tweaked and rewoven back into the story.

It's never the same.

Once you inject plot, goal, motivation and conflict into your outtake the magic is usually gone. Later when you go reread the scene which harbors the reworked outtake you stare at the words knowing they weren't the ones truly intended.

Ashley loves outtakes, and as a homage to my partner who is currently writing about genetically modified foods (or GMFs), I will post an outtake from the now defunct Seth story. Seth's entire first story can be considered an outtake as he is getting a totally new heroine and plot. So while I mourn the loss of the first Seth and get ready to upload the new story written especially for this blog, you can let me know how you like this….

Quick warning: Not true sexual content, but a mention of a part of a woman's chest.

“Show’s starting!”
Seth's yell made Lindsay jump and nearly bang her head onto the corner of the medicine cabinet. She balanced on the toilet attempting to look herself over, wishing her full length mirror didn't reside in her bedroom where Seth now resided.
He was in her bedroom, in her bed, right now.
"Lindsay!
She winced and jumped down with a thud.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes!" She took a drink of water and then splashed some on her face. This was fine. They were only watching television like they always did. The only difference was they were doing it snuggled in her bed after the last three nights they had spent making out. In fact last night he felt her boobs. Well, more like kissed them, fondled them and sucked them. By comparison television viewing was nothing.
With her head up and chest out she opened the door.
Seth was in her bed. Pillows propped up, blue Mohawk, bare chest and holding up her tattered teddy bear.
Her head sunk with the weight of the sweat beginning to form on her face, and her chest turned in on itself trying to contain her heart. She scurried to the bed, never looking directly at him, only letting the blue of his hair and his eyes serve as a beacon to guide her way right under the covers.
In one clumsy move she switched off the light and pulled up the sheet, two blankets and comforter up her chin. "I've been looking forward to this episode."
“Hi.” Seth moved into her field of vision.
“Hi.” Unsure what to do, she forced a smile on her lips, the same one she used when she told someone they were about to be audited.
He held his arms open, a map to her next move.
She slid over, but was met with a roadblock when he stopped her.
“Whoa!” He yanked the blankets down. “What is going on in here?”
“What do you mean?” She reached out for her fabric protection.
He held the linens out of her reach. “What are you wearing?”
She peeked down to make sure of her answer before she spoke. “My pajamas?”
"Those aren’t pajamas.” He took hold of her sleeve between two fingertips.
“First of all you’re wearing a jacket.”
“I’m freezing.” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders.
“Well, let’s see here.” Seth rubbed his chin. “How about we peel you out of some of this and I promise to do the job. I’m a virtual heater.” He leaned forward and gave her a light kiss as he put his hand on the zipper by her neck. “For the record, anything with a hood is not a pajama.” He pulled the zipper down to reveal a sweatshirt.
"I got this from college." She held the shirt out and showed him the picture of a bulldog from her Alma Mater.
"That doesn't mean we wear it to bed." He counted the layers of clothes, clicking the tongue on the roof. “Alright at least three things have to come off.” He helped her out of the jacket and two sweatshirts leaving her in a long sleeved t-shirt which he lifted to ensure there was skin underneath. “Cool.”
She went to settle down when he pushed her back and dipped his head under the blanket. "We need to inspect the pants situation."
He proceeded to extract her from a pair of sweat pants she donned over her pajama bottoms and one of her two pairs of socks. “That’s much better.” He returned from the depths of her bed unscathed.
Immediately she started to shake, exposure in many ways getting the best of her.
“Oh we can’t have that.” He moved over, took her in his arms and put his leg over hers. For a grand finale he covered them both up with her multitude of blankets. “Isn’t that better?” He moved her hair aside with his nose and kissed her ear.
Up against his solid chest, relishing in the scent of the soap from his shower, she nodded. "Much."

Coming Soon To A Blog Near You

2010-03-06T20:49:00.001-08:00

Ash and I are proud to announce that we are writing a story especially for the blog! We thought it would be fun to have an ongoing story here and hope that you all will join us for the ride.

We decided to go with something purely fun. Here is a sneak preview into "Fired Up."

Investment specialist, Emmett Lang only has money on his mind. He doesn't care what he has to do to attain the almighty green, and this time it means milking the person he is to replace for all her information before he fires her. Jordan Paxton has traveled down the corporate path all her life. Money leaving her empty and alone, she now feels she must try to do some good, make a difference. When the two find themselves trapped together on an ill-fated business trip, Emmett learns there maybe something more important than monetary success, while Jordan discovers a new meaning to the word 'compromise.'

We hope you will join us for this story! I will keep you updated on its progress.

Rewriting, Plotting and Planning...Oh My

2010-02-20T13:56:00.001-08:00

There used to be a time where I would write a story. Ashley and I would think of some quippy items, turn it into a story and like magic it was there.

Then came plotting.

The last two weeks I have been actively engaged in what I started out calling an edit, but has turned into a full rewrite. I didn't want to call it a rewrite until I rewrote it and had to admit to myself that I changed about every sentence.

Why rewrite?

Well, back in the day I didn't like to put my characters through any angst. I liked exploring the love, I liked everything tied up with a nice bow.

Today, I like things messy, hard and difficult for my characters…

That's a plot!

So I just finished rewriting Moonlit Rescue. Using all the plot tools I have learned from my wonderful instructors. Yay!

That brings me to plotting.

Ashley and I are now planning a story that will be uploaded in a serial format on this blog.

This time we are going in with a plan.

Here is what goes into plotting a story now…

Goals, Motivations and Conflict – Each main character gets a chart and that includes a full discussion of their internal changes.
Motivation worksheet for both characters.
A full list of plot points.

Only then, after all that is done do I get to write. No more seat of my pants writing, Ashley and I now go in with a full plan.

So, our new story will feature Emmett and Jordan, two corporate executives who get trapped in a cabin together. Something we are writing for fun. I'll let you know how it goes!

Sometimes I miss the days I wrote pages and pages of my characters eating cheese, but alas, the story is better for it!

Just Write...

2010-01-31T11:59:00.000-08:00

In order to write, you have to, well….write. Writing definitely helps in the process. The trouble is that once you begin to learn things and you have all these rules, formulas and processes in your mind, it's hard to let go and do what you wanted to do in the first place.

When we first began to write, the words were very stream-of-consciousness. Nothing mattered, neither form or function. Whatever stuck my fancy is what got put down on the page.

Then we learned we were doing it wrong.

I will never forget the first time I heard the words "show don't tell." It took me months to figure out what that meant. Then came head hopping. There was a time when I would include everyone's POV including the cat if it amused me. That was followed by passive voice and deep POV. One of my stories truly suffered in plotting because all of these items were overtaking my mind.

Once you learn the basics, then your world is wrought with adverbs, characterization, -ing endings, similes. That's not even to mention over all goals, motivations and conflicts, but scene layering, scene goals, motifs and symbols.

This can all be very taxing.

It can also make someone who used to be able to spew three to five thousand words out per day turn into a groveling fool hoping for 100 words.

However, one thing that Ashley as well as all my best instructors tell me to do is just write.

That is the next thing I have to learn.

Just write.

Get the scene down on paper. Create the magic that only comes from losing yourself in another time and place. Do what you were meant to do.

Once you write it, you can fix it.

So, this humble and humbled writer is off to do exactly that. I am going to go write my scene. If there's passive construction, or I use the word 'that' to many times it will be alright. If I started a sentence with an ING word the world won't end. At least the words will be down on paper, and then I can polish them.

Just write….

It's Not Good

2010-01-23T11:35:00.000-08:00

“It’s not good”

Three simple words, or at least one would think, but it can rip your heart out when you have to tell someone that something isn’t good.

This is made especially difficult when you know that someone spent a lot of time and tears doing what you are criticizing.

Recently, Kim and I (yes, finally a post written by me, Ashley!) finished a story. Now, you have to understand that it takes several months and too many debates about minutia to even count to put together a story. So after spending a few weeks away from the story, it was my job to go ahead and read it cover to cover, so to speak.

Well, as I was reading the first few scenes I knew something was off. I couldn’t put my finger on it so I continued reading. Then, during a conversation with Kim over the phone while I was in Florida, that story was brought up.

Out of nowhere I blurted, “It’s not good.” I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t even know I felt that, but when I said those words I knew it was true.

After making the statement Kim paused and then started tearing up and saying that she knew but didn’t want to admit it. I guess it was the elephant in the room and neither of us wanted to recognize that fact.

Now, this isn’t the first time I have told her something wasn’t good. This is just the first time it was a whole story that has already been written. I have said that about scenes and even the second half of a story right before it was written, but nothing ever hurt like this.

Now, Kim and I have our roles. Kim is the one that freaks out, and I am the one that says it’s ok. I was really upset and sad that we were unable to catch such a big problem, but I had to keep it cool.

I won’t leave anyone hanging. We loved the hero so much that we have since developed an entirely new plot and heroine and I am thrilled to see the story come to life.

A Typical Convo

2010-01-16T10:10:00.000-08:00

People often ask how Ashley and I work together. She is going to be posting something about working with me so I thought that while Ash taking this week to get used to being back at work and school I would show you what a typical conversation looks like. This is while she was in Florida at the airport via blackberry messenger. This should give you a good idea:

My commentary is in the parenthesis…

K – In the car will you call me on your layover? (I'm feeling needy, have a plot problem and letting her know to call)

A- So frazzled my flight got all f-ed up. (Ash doesn't get frazzled)

(Kim freaks out but tries not to show it because I was waiting for her call)

K – Oh Man (Cool, that sounds like I'm not upset)

A- Now I'm on two different airlines and I'm leaving early.

(Kim tries to calculate when she can talk to Ashley, I've decided in the course of two minutes that my plot problem is now a story meltdown.)

K – Oh Man (It seemed an appropriate thing to say)

A – And I have a shorter layover. Going to Colorado then OC

(I narrow my eyes at the phone hating airline travel for denying me my creativity time)

K – Oh Man (For a writer, I'm not doing so well here)

A – I'll try to call, but I have to talk to my Dad.

K – Ok

(Kim waits)

(10 minutes later)

K – U OK? (I'm not a good waiter)

A – Yeah just frazzled. (She's still frazzled which would have meant Kim would have been on a stretcher had this had been happening to her)

K – NP Be safe – Feel good Ur very needed. (She may be frazzled but I'm still having a story melt down and I wish the friendly skies would realize that)

A – I can't wait to talk

(Me neither this BBM is a pain)

K – Me too – you don't even know.

A – Sorry about this, it's been drama central

K – (Almost said oh man) NP I understand (I'm always dramatic, but if Ashley says something is dramatic it is). I just want you to relax.

A – Thanks

K – And to fix me (I put a smile face here to imply a joke, but I was serious)

A – Hahahaha

A – We will fix Jack

(Jack is my latest hero – having an issue with his goal, motivation and conflict which is apparently important when writing a story – At this point of the conversation Kim is very happy she picked up on what I wanted, though I'm sure she knew all along.)

A – I read those comments and I am not worried. (I'm in a class and got some comments back on a story…hence the meltdown.)

(If Ashley isn't worried, that is code for Kim to calm down, but I want to make sure she knows I'm upset)

K – TY because I've been crying after Seth (another hero, different issue)

A – Don't even stress, its no biggie at all.

K – Love ya (now I'm being cute cause I feel better)

A – They are good things to think about but the fix is very minor, only tweaks.

K – After Seth, you know (I really want to drive the point home)

A – I do but that's a big overhaul and Jack only needs tweaks.

K – K Yay!

A – We will fix it

K – Ok. Fly Safe

A – Will do.

So now what will happen is I will wait for her. She will call me tonight or tomorrow and in about ten minutes she will have my plot point fixed.

I don't know how other writers write without the other half, but I don't want to…

Hopefully Ash will post next, but if not we will talk about Kim and her plight with the word was – or WAS – A three letter word.

Kim's School Days...

2010-01-03T12:07:00.000-08:00

Yes, Kim is in school. The Master's Degree she earned was not enough, at least not enough if she wanted to be a writer. So now Kim is in her self-made school.

About two years ago, Ashley and I had an amazing idea. We would take a story, tweak it, polish it and submit to agents and publishers. It seemed easy. People liked our stories, so why wouldn't someone want to buy them.

They didn't…

I cried, Ashley mopped me up from the ground, and then we tried to figure out what went wrong.

The interesting thing that happened was that we weren't rejected because of our ideas, we were rejected because of our execution. In fact, now looking back on this, I think we had what I would call a successful failure. We had over ten percent of the agents and publishers we queried ask for more. They liked the story concept.

Unfortunately, for the most part, when you get rejected you don't find out why. Finally, one of the rejections letters gave us some insight.

Suddenly our world was awash in terms like point of view, deep point of view (yes, it's different), showing versus telling, head hopping, voice, etc…

Again, I cried. Ashley tried to figure it out.

Then we found the beauty of the online class.

Online classes are put on by certain individuals in the writing field and by local chapters of the Romance Writers Association.

The first online class I took was a disaster. It was on showing versus telling, the instructor was not soft and squishy and I wasn't used to real criticism. I also happened to be in the middle of a nervous breakdown at that time, so I think this may have been doomed from the beginning.

One thing with online classes, you have to be willing to put yourself out there. You are uploading assignments to other writers. Some who are where are you are, some who are much further down the path, and some who have just begun. Then you have the instructor. If he or she is good, she critiques your work. That is what you want, what you pay for.

Up until that moment, I wasn't used to anyone other than Ashley telling me something sucked.

I cried. Ashley sat back, worked me through my nervous breakdown and we lurked during the first class.

Then I took a second class. This was on writing a synopsis. The instructor was amazing, and though she gave hard critiques she gave them in such a way as to not make you feel as if you just committed six out of the seven deadly sins. I learned a lot, not only about writing a synopsis, but also about writing.

Now I take anywhere between 5-9 classes a month. Depending on where I am in my writing and what is being offered. Some classes are great with lots of interaction, but some are more about giving just the lessons.

So, I thought I would give you my curriculum for the month of January…

Take Your Writing to the Next Level – this is being taught by Nicole North, one of my favorite instructors. She gives great feedback and she's tough but nice. Read her work, its steamy, hot, and as an instructor she's incredible.

Personality Plus – Making your Characters Real – this is being taught by Sue Viders and Becky Martinez – I have taken their classes before and they are great. Sue is also co-author of one of my favorite writing books "The Complete Writer's Guide to Heroes & Heroines" and has this really cool card came called "Deal a Story."

Voice – Get your Fingerprints All Over The Story – I can't sing but I need a voice.

The Purpose Driven Scene – Yes, scenes need to be there for a reason – I guess Ashley and I can discuss the couch scene from the rock star story later.

Layering Your Scenes for Maximum Impact – If my scene is going to have purpose, I want it layered for maximum impact.

Edit Your Book in a Month – This is being taught by Eliza Knight. I have taken another class with her, and she is great. I hope she can teach me to edit a book in a month, I think it would make Ashley happy. (Yes it would!) - That was Ashley

Personal Brand Express – This is a branding class, as my background is in marketing I'm really looking forward to this.

Anatomy of a Hook – Your entire book in like two sentences, and I thought writing the synopsis was bad.

No Tears Query – That would be new, I usually cry when I write these.

Ok so looking at this schedule, it’s a bit daunting, but I should learn a lot. I may cry, but Ashley will be there.

For these classes we will be working with our paranormal story Bound (I really hope I can edit it in a month)

Thanks for everyone's support….

Kim out!

Out of the Blue - First Draft Finished!

2009-12-29T17:45:00.000-08:00

Okay, so our second post was supposed to be Ashley, but last night I finished the first draft of our new book series, Out of the Blue. It is the first of four books tracking the romances of the Elliott family.

Here is an overview...

A new start was all Lindsay Stevens wanted when she moved to California and transformed herself from a nerdy bookkeeper to a sleek corporate accountant. Brilliant financial advice was all Seth Elliott needed when he found his hip Hollywood tattoo parlor drowning under a sea of unpaid bills and a wave of back taxes. When their worlds collide, Seth learns that taking responsibility comes with it's own set of sexy fringe benefits, and Lindsay must ultimately learn to love herself before she can expect others to do the same.

Here is an excerpt….

Somehow with only sketchy details of where she was, Seth was able to guide her out of wherever she managed to get herself. "I'm heading into downtown."

"I know."

"You told me not to go downtown."

"I told you not to go downtown without me," he corrected.

"Well?" She hated sounding desperate.

"Thankfully when you turn left at the next light, I'll be right there. The shop is on the right hand side, it's the orange and black building."

She smiled as a kaleidoscope of colors overwhelmed her. There, just as Seth described, was the brick building painted in orange and black stripes to resemble a tiger, and parked right in front was his bright yellow El Camino serving as a beacon through the maze of grey, unfriendly buildings she just survived. However, the best color of them all was when she caught sight of Seth's wonderful blue royal blue hair. It was a signal letting her know she was safe.

The entire entourage, including some people she didn't know, joined in her search party, but she could only focus on Seth as he motioned for her to pull into the parking lot and sprinted toward her car.

She had barely thrown the transmission into park before Seth opened the door and practically got inside with her. Though she wanted to protest, or tell him he was making too big of a deal out of all this, her body disobeyed her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. This time she didn't deny herself, and she purposely leaned in and took a big long whiff of his scent. She was done for anyway. "Oh God."

He put one knee on the seat and faced her. "We're never going to do that to Seth again, are we?" Then he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek, grazing the corner of her mouth.

The only indication Lindsay got that she was holding her breath was when her lungs demanded air causing her to gasp and grab Seth's leg. When her hand grazed across his jeans, she swore she never felt anything quite so supple and pliable. His pants were so well worn that the fine nap was like the most expensive velvet beneath her fingertips. It was almost as if she could feel the history in the garment. Beneath his jeans she could clearly make out the definition of his well-toned thigh, and the contrast of textures overloaded her senses. "Did you know the five freeway and the Golden State freeway are the same?"

Seth chuckled, but didn't move away from her. In fact, his dark blue eyes were looking at her so intently that she turned her eyes to his arm and studied his tattoos. One thing about Seth was that every part of him was interesting to look at.

We hope you enjoyed that little excerpt. Let us know what you think!

Welcome!

2009-12-23T22:24:00.001-08:00

Welcome!

Hi all and welcome to the official blog of Leigh Erikson!

Leigh Erikson is the penname for the writing team of Kim Preston and Ashley Daniel. Many of you may remember us from a very popular fiction website and we are happy that you have found your way over here.

We started writing together five years ago when I (Kim) uploaded my first story and was contacted by Ashley. Her first words to me were "Your stories are great, you need an editor." Nothing like being blunt.

Of course, she was right, and throughout our time together we developed a system that really worked for us, and now we are now co-authors.

Many people have asked me how this works. I don't know about the rest of writing teams, but for us Ashley is the "big picture" person. She is the one who makes sure we have a plot and conflict. Yes, those are important. She also makes sure these things are carried throughout the entire novel.

The two of us together develop the story, bouncing ideas off each other. The characters developed come from a combination of the two of us.

Once we have a general idea of where the story is going, I am the one who actually puts the words to the paper. I am constantly on the phone, IM, text, BBM, email with Ashley, running ideas past her, or talking through scenes. (Did I also mention that she is the one who talks me off ledges?)

As the first draft of the story is written, Ashley reads each scene and sends me notes. She is hard on me but it is welcomed, and the story is always stronger for it. I make the changes, and we go back and forth. I will do several editing passes looking for things like deep point of view, sexual tension and passive voice, and then she will make sure it comes across. Lastly, she will give the story one final polish. By that point it shines like a brand new nickel!

Together we have written 15 full length stories and 2 short stories. Our stories are mostly contemporary with 2 paranormals and one historic piece.

About two years ago we decided to try to turn professional and got a taste of the real world. While we had a lot of interest for our story idea the mechanics were not there. We took some time off, I took a huge dose of a big girl pill (though younger, Ashley is much more mature than I am), and we began learning what we have been lacking.

I am now happy to report that we have some stories that are almost ready to truly begin to start submitting to agents and publishers. For those of you that noticed our work missing online, the reason we took it down is we only want the best representation of our work out in cyberspace, and while so many people loved these stories, the new ones are even better!

We ask that while we take this journey to becoming published that you take it with us. We will keep you updated and hopefully sometime soon we WILL be directing you to where you can buy our books!

Until then….

Kim & Ashley out!