So Into You (12 page)

"Hmm." He stroked his chin
thoughtfully.

"Phil, I'm lost without
you." She dropped her coy flirtation. "I did something so frickin'
stupid that I'm afraid it may have cost me the best thing that ever came into
my life. You."

He stood and walked to her. "It
almost did. I was more hurt then anything. But I've been as miserable as hell
not seeing you."

She put her arms around him and
rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh of contentment. For the first time
in months she was happy.

"I'm so glad you're here."
His breath dusted her cheek.

"Think we can make a go of it?
I so want to try."

She felt him nod. "Me too, more
then you know. Because we have something real powerful going for us, Casey."

"We do? What?"

He hugged her tight and she heard
the laughter in his voice. "I'll show you. In about fifteen minutes, when
we get to my apartment. That's when I'll be
so into you
…"

THE END

S.L. Carpenter
and
Sahara Kelly
began their writing
collaboration a decade ago. It was unexpected, since they live about as far
away from each other as it's possible to get in the USA without getting your
feet wet. But it worked.

Since then, they've explored a wide
and colorful variety of subjects, and written stories that entertain, amuse,
and sometimes astound their readers. One thing will always be a part of their
writing—that touch of humor. Sometimes unexpected, sometimes blatant, both S.L.
and Sahara believe that laughter is essential, especially when it comes to sex.
Because sex is, without a doubt, one of the funniest activities humans engage
in on a regular basis. If one excludes salmon-tossing, of course. If you'd like
to find out a bit more about these two strangely charming and attractive people
(one of whom is writing this paragraph) then you can check the websites below
and satisfy your curiosity about their books.

Both writers suggest you subscribe
to their newsletters. They are available without charge, and free is always
good. Plus neither will pepper your inbox with incessant political opinions,
recipes or pictures of their cats. (Sahara is presently feline-free anyway, and
Scott guards his award-winning burger secrets with all the intense security of
a Pentagon-level government agency.) Links to said newsletters are also below.
And it's worth noting that if you enjoyed the story you just read, you'll
absolutely want to subscribe to these newsletters, since they are currently at
work on their best-selling series
Working Stiffs
, and you don't want to
miss the latest news or release schedules, do you? We didn't think so!

Website:
S.L. Carpenter

Where you can find out more about
S.L. Carpenter,
his books, his art and
his off-the-wall observations on life, baseball and rubber chickens. (The
fundamental components of happiness—as we all know so well.) He has quite a few
single titles available and encourages you to check them out if you haven't
already.

You may subscribe to Scott's
newsletter
here
and his blog
here
. He loves contests, so
don't forget to see if there's one going on at the moment...

Website:
Sahara Kelly

This is where
Sahara Kelly
shares none of the intimate details of her life, but
will present you with a list of books she'd like you to buy so that she can go
do research on a beach in Aruba and be pampered with massages and drinks with
umbrellas in them. She'll send you a postcard. Thank you.

You can get on Sahara's newsletter
list
here
and don't forget to pop over
and see what she's blogging about
here
. It usually has nothing
to do with her books. Refreshing, huh?

*****

Both authors have individual titles available from All Romance eBooks; there
are many in digital format and also in print. Too many to list here, you can
find most of these books by searching on their names at ARe.

*****

Scott and Sahara would like to
mention that they've recently initiated a new collaboration, blending another
of their shared passions— art. If you're interested in seeing what they get up
to when they're not writing something twistedly hot and sexy, they'd like to
invite you to come visit their little Art for Authors and Others business at
the link below. They're certainly never bored…

P and N Graphics, LLC

Working Stiffs Book 1—Hired Help (SK Private Label
Publications)

Working Stiffs Book 2—Open House by Sahara Kelly (SK Private
Label Publications)

Working Stiffs Book 2—Full Service by S.L. Carpenter (Coming
Soon)

Showing Off—(SK Private Label Publications)

Partners In Passion—Eleanor and Justin (Ellora's Cave)

Partners In Passion—No Limits (Ellora's Cave)

Partners In Passion—Pure Sin (Ellora's Cave)

Detour (Ellora's Cave)

Lady Luck (Ellora's Cave)

Coming Attractions (Ellora's Cave)

Princesses Gone Wild (Decadent Publishing)

Whispers in the Dark (Decadent Publishing)

Suite 69 (Samhain Publishing)

Several
of these titles are available in print. Please check either author's website or
the publisher.

SK
Private Label Publications is wholly owned by

Sahara
Kelly. Releasing first as digital books for all currently available eReaders,
some of these titles will also be heading into print
.

*****

And now that you have been suitably impressed with our
amazing lives and our backlist, not to mention our awesome formatting, it's
time to whet your appetite with a brief look at the latest series in progress
from S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly.

*****

WORKING STIFFS

(Every woman deserves her own working stiff!!)

Now available from

Amazon/Kindle

Barnes and Noble/Nook

All Romance eBooks

Smashwords

Book One—HIRED HELP

by

S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly

Excerpt

The light from the hall silhouetted
his tall form for a moment and then the door closed, leaving Rose alone in the
elegantly decorated suite where huge windows were cloaked with rich velvet
drapes against the oncoming night. A crystal table lamp shed its soft light on
the muted tones of the thick carpet.

She strolled to the buffet that
lined one wall and gazed at the mass of scented candles, then let her fingers
drift over the tasteful selection of high-end glossy magazines, her thoughts
still on Mel.

He's good at his job
.

He spoke little, was as unobtrusive
as a shadow, and yet…lately she'd noticed something in his eyes when they met
hers.

He looks at me like he's interested
.
Like he wants to take my clothes off and check me for
bugs. And I think I'd let him. Which is entirely the fault of being celibate
for too long.

Maybe she was imagining it. He'd
been by her side, protecting her ever since her husband had been felled by an
aneurism and left her in sole control of Jackson Enterprises. Now that she fit
the description of incredibly rich widow, she supposed she needed a bodyguard.
She had taken over the reins of the business, developed new campaigns and
worked hard on new leads over the past eighteen months. She'd proved herself
worthy of the CEO position she'd inherited - but at one hell of a cost.

To accomplish her goals, she'd
sacrificed herself in a variety of ways…no social life, no parties, no
adventurous foreign vacations…not even a shopping trip down Fifth Avenue more
than once every six months or so. Sometimes she'd had to remind herself to
shower. It had been all work, all the time. Deaf to the entreaties of her
friends, she'd hunkered down in her office, and only now could she come up for
air, breathe, and take a few hours for herself. The work was still there, but
she had it running the way she wanted at last, with people she could rely on
taking some of the burden from her shoulders.

Of course, the change in her
situation and her new accessibility brought about its own share of problems.

Not a day passed without a friend
approaching her bearing a suggestion. Often it was for a blind date, or
occasionally it was the phone number of some businessman they knew who wanted
to take her to dinner. Which was all well and good, but not anything Rose was
particularly interested in. Even though the last couple of years had been spent
in near-hermitlike isolation, she wasn't a fool and had a well-developed streak
of practicality.

She knew she couldn't trust anyone
to go out with her as Rose and not Ms. Jackson, rich widow. Doubtless those men
existed. But she'd rather be safe than sorry. A woman in her position only gave
her trust to those who absolutely earned it. Or to those whose discretion she'd
purchased.

Which had brought her here, to this
up-market and discreet hideaway. A place where she was going to rediscover a
side of herself she'd buried and damn near forgotten about.

A place where she intended to let a
man take her body and pleasure it, use his skills to bring her joy, excitement
and - she hoped - at least one eye-rolling, scream inducing, stress releasing,
toe-curling orgasm. Maybe even two.

Yep. Rose blinked at her reflection
in the fancy mirror over the buffet, not seeing the elegant and slender
brunette with the blue-green eyes, but the daring lass with Irish blood in her
veins, who'd gone out on a limb and worked her way to this moment.

She had done it. She'd booked
herself a room and a man.

Book Two—OPEN HOUSE

by

Sahara Kelly

Excerpt

Alone once more, Jeff strolled
through the townhouse, enjoying the quiet ambience of empty rooms.

It was the 'model' home, the
showplace, decorated to the most tasteful limits by a firm that now, thanks to his
father, no longer worked for J and J Development Group.

He looked at the stuff scattered
here and there; decorative pieces—a vase with one silk orchid, an odd plate, a
grouping of glass fruit in an improbably blue bowl. The latter reflected the
late afternoon sun as it thrust its way past the lighter blue draperies and
onto the table behind the couch.

It was, he realized, about the only
time he'd ever actually seen one of those tables in a living room rather than a
furniture showroom. Nobody
he
knew had a couch with a table behind it.
Most of 'em had a couch with a coffee table in front of it you could put your
feet on while watching the game.

Perhaps his dad was right. This
place was fine for meetings, possibly a sedate book club or two, and perhaps an
elderly widow knitting peacefully in the fall by the gas fireplace.

He didn't really see kids scampering
around, or newlyweds frantically hurrying out the door to their respective
jobs. He didn't see dogs lying anywhere or cats curled up on that overstuffed
white chair.

White
? Sheesh. His mom's cat would have that covered in ginger
fur before she could yell "don't you claw that cushion, Nixon."

He smiled at the thought as he
walked back through the open space to the dining area and his blueprints. Such was
his mother's radical support of the Democratic party, she'd named her
obstreperous kitten Nixon so she could yell at him with complete political
impunity.

The cat had to be pushing fifteen
years old now. He was, in all likelihood, deaf as well. But he was much loved
and Jeff couldn't see his fat feline butt waddling through a place
so…so…fucking
perfect.

That might be the problem. From
garage and family space on the ground floor to the extra bedroom-slash-office
on the third, everything was just freaking perfect.

It needed…humanizing.

Hmm.
He considered the options as his gaze wandered around the
kitchen.

It needed some
mess
.

At that moment, the alarm on the
front door pinged. It was probably another set of interested buyers, or at
least people who wanted a break from the late summer heat and humidity. They'd
find it here, since Jeff's design incorporated the latest technology in cooling
systems and he was damned proud of the efficiency ratings all the other
ecologically smart energy choices were starting to produce.