Jurgen’s feet scuffed on the wood as he turned, and then Ian felt the boards give as he thudded down the steps. He should probably stop standing on his porch-former porch-staring at the locking hardware. That’s it? his cousin Jurgen asked from behind him. Put some distance between him and his dad. That thought triggered a sudden and visceral flash of scraping his back on the asphalt and the sound of his skin sizzling. It isn’t too late to go back to the department and drive a desk.
Then he stared at the deadbolt and the knob. Instead he just watched the brass glint in his hand. Nah, quitting his job, selling his home, and moving the hell out of California was probably symbolic enough. Ian Cully locked up his house-ex-house-one last time and contemplated throwing away the key.
I truly could not have done this without you. This book is dedicated to Thorny (and Jazz by proxy). Someone with experience and simple needs that largely revolve around the bedroom. He’s going to be cautious, though, maybe start with someone who knows the score and isn’t looking for anything too complicated. He’s pain-free, has escaped the job he hated and the family who stifled him, and is now-possibly-ready to dip his toe into the sea of relationships. Wrong, no matter how hot, exciting, and/or erotic-novel-worthy he may be. He’s cultivated the necessary fortitude to say no to the next Mr. His One True Love is certainly still out there, but he knows now that real life is nothing like fiction. Yes, he’s still too tall, too skinny, too dorky, too gay, and has that unfortunate addiction to romance novels, but he’s wised up. It isn't true love until someone gets hurt. Her two school-aged daughters think it's cool Mom's a writer, but aren't clear on why they can't tell Gramma about it.When not writing, Anne likes to read, travel, cook, and shirk housework.You can see what Anne is up to by checking out her (sadly neglected) blog at Works"18% Gray", Dreamspinner Press"Happy Birthday to Me", Dreamspinner Press"Whitetail Rock", Read more In the long, rainy, Pacific Northwest winter, writing is sometimes a mood-saver.Anne's husband is adorably confused by her love of reading and writing about man lurve, but he's always been a supportive sort. The Lyme Disease had led to the demise of her "real" job, and the laptop was right there, next to the bed. While spending most of the last three years recovering from Lyme Disease, Anne started writing for herself again. Anne Tenino began writing for her own entertainment in third grade, but life intervened, and she didn't get around to submitting anything to a publisher until the week of her 40th birthday.
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