Sawyer Bennett's Blog, page 23

When Seraphina was younger, she healed her best friend’s injured hand. Terrified by the inexplicable cure, the girl shunned her. From that day on, Seraphina found herself without friends, a freak and an oddity. And so she obeyed her mother’s rule to refrain from using her innate ability, heeded her mother’s warning that its use could land her in the local mental health facility alongside her aunt and grandmother.

But when sixteen-year-old Seraphina finds a mysterious, wounded boy hiding in the hollow in the woods behind her house, she can’t hold out against the overpowering urge to help him. She is drawn to him each night, and as they come to know one another, their irresistible attraction blooms.

She longs to uncover his secrets — where he comes from and why he’s hiding and how he came to be so wounded — and to share her own, though she knows it’s forbidden. And while her healing touch seems to be helping him, it’s hurting her. When the symptoms of psychosis — experienced by the women in her bloodline who used their powers — begin to plague Seraphina, she is faced with the unbearable choice of saving her sanity or the boy she’s come to love.

Giveaway on my Facebook Page. Leave a comment on the Hell’s Hollow post and you’ll be entered.  Drawing will be on Wednesday, March 20, 2013.

“There is a vulnerability there, hovering just below the surface. And I want to pick at it until I expose it. Then I want to kiss it.”

COMING SOON – OFF LIMITS

Join us at my Facebook page for more teasers, talk and sighing over pictures of hot men. I’ve promised to dye my hair purple like Danny’s if I get 1000 Facebook likes before I release Off Limits.

Second Chance will be offered FREE on Amazon on March 7th and 8th, 2013.  If you haven’t tried paranormal romance, it’s time to take it for a spin.  Vyronas is a magical universe that co-exists right on modern day Earth. Ava Clairmont has been living a peaceful but lonely existence in Wyoming, completely unaware that she is actually heir to a Kingdom in Vyronas.  When her former fiance and the man who betrayed her four years earlier shows up to return her home, the sparks begin to fly.  Carrick Dunne is an amazingly scrumptious Alpha male who wants Ava again, but doesn’t think he deserves her after his betrayal.  While Ava immediately sees Carrick ultimately acted in her best interests, trying to convince him to give their relationship a Second Chance is going to be difficult.  This book is intended for readers 18 years of age or older.

Stolen Heart will be offered FREE on Amazon on March 9th and 10th, 2013.  This book is a spin-off to Second Chance but can be read as a stand alone novel.  Kieran Dunne is hot, hot, hot and has no room in his life for anything but fun and adventure. Certainly no room for a relationship. But when he gets thrown together with NYC nightclub owner, Annika Foss, whoa does the heat ratchet up about a thousand degrees.  As a team, they must recover a stolen magical artifact that was taken from Vyronas. What what happens when two stubbornly, independent people realize that it’s okay to depend on someone else.  Warning…Chapter Four is so hot you may need a bucket of ice to cool you down.  This book is intended for readers 18 years of age or older.

Second Chance will be offered FREE on Amazon on March 7th and 8th, 2013.  If you haven’t tried paranormal romance, it’s time to take it for a spin.  Vyronas is a magical universe that co-exists right on modern day Earth. Ava Clairmont has been living a peaceful but lonely existence in Wyoming, completely unaware that she is actually heir to a Kingdom in Vyronas.  When her former fiance and the man who betrayed her four years earlier shows up to return her home, the sparks begin to fly.  Carrick Dunne is an amazingly scrumptious Alpha male who wants Ava again, but doesn’t think he deserves her after his betrayal.  While Ava immediately sees Carrick ultimately acted in her best interests, trying to convince him to give their relationship a Second Chance is going to be difficult.  This book is intended for readers 18 years of age or older.

Stolen Heart will be offered FREE on Amazon on March 9th and 10th, 2013.  This book is a spin-off to Second Chance but can be read as a stand alone novel.  Kieran Dunne is hot, hot, hot and has no room in his life for anything but fun and adventure. Certainly no room for a relationship. But when he gets thrown together with NYC nightclub owner, Annika Foss, whoa does the heat ratchet up about a thousand degrees.  As a team, they must recover a stolen magical artifact that was taken from Vyronas. What what happens when two stubbornly, independent people realize that it’s okay to depend on someone else.  Warning…Chapter Four is so hot you may need a bucket of ice to cool you down.  This book is intended for readers 18 years of age or older.

I wake up and glance at the alarm clock.

5:52 a.m.

It’s going to go off in eight minutes and I groan inwardly. Freakin’ early mornings. Reaching over, I flip the switch to turn it off. Then I roll over to the soft bundle sleeping next to me. My Danny.

She’s laying on her right side with her back to me. Her left arm is tucked to her chest, her fist resting under her chin. She’s snoring softly—a fact I learned she did quite frequently after we moved in together, but I think it’s adorable. I slide over and press the front of my body to her back then wrap my arm around her to pull her even closer. She lets out a little sigh then resumes snoring. I smile to myself and bury my nose in her neck. She smells like sunshine to me. Always sunshine.

I place a kiss on her shoulder —so gentle —I’ll be the only one to ever know it was there.

Reluctantly, I slide out of bed. There’s nothing more I would rather do than roll Danny under me and bury myself in her but she was up late last night studying and she needs the sleep.

As I pad into the bathroom, I smile thinking about her. She re-enrolled in Julliard and will graduate this coming spring. She has been studying hard and playing her violin even harder. Her delicate finger tips are now hard with callouses, but they still make me shiver when she drags them across my skin. I am so proud of her and of course, we are both incredibly lucky that I signed to play hockey with the New York Rangers. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t join a New York team so that I could be near Danny. For me, it was out of the question that Danny would go anywhere but Julliard. I would accept nothing less.

Turning on the shower, I strip out of my boxers. I go ahead and shave while the shower is heating up, grinning at the lucky fool staring back at me in the mirror. Danny and I had many discussions, and some heated fights, about her music career. She insisted she could go to school anywhere and thus could be with me wherever I ended up playing hockey. That didn’t set well with me. Danny is so talented…she deserves to be at Julliard. By some miracle, the New York Rangers wanted me and Julliard gladly accepted Danny back.

So here we are, living in Manhattan, in a small two-bedroom apartment that conveniently sits almost smack dab in the middle of Julliard and Madison Square Garden. And my life is almost perfect.

Almost.

 ***

I finished a short run this morning just to get my muscles loose. I have a team meeting in a few hours to prepare for tonight’s game. The fantastic hockey I’ve been playing has earned me a spot on the Rangers’ second line and it’s a dream come true for me. Almost as good as having Danny in my life.

Bundled up in a fuzzy yellow robe, Danny softly walks into the living room while I’m watching ESPN Sports Center. I set my coffee down and open my arms. She has that sleepy look in her eyes and she crawls onto my lap to snuggle in.

“Did you get some good sleep?” I ask.

“Mmmm. Hmmmm,” she purrs as she nods her head up and down against my chest. I reach my hand up and smooth some of the tangles in her hair.

“I’m glad. You’ve been burning the midnight oil quite a bit, baby.”

As if to just prove my point, she stretches her arms out and gives a loud yawn. Then she tucks back in to my body. I turn my attention back to Sports Center, trying to get up to speed on all the highlights. It seems to be the only time I can get to find out what is going on in the sports world.

Danny tilts her head up and places a soft kiss on the edge of my jaw. “Did you hear back from your parents yet?”

I clench my teeth and just shake my head at her. I invited my parents to the game tonight as my father is giving a speech in New York tomorrow. I didn’t really expect them to accept the invite, because hey, they’ve declined all of the other invitations Danny and I have extended to them. My mother is still staunchly against my relationship with Danny and my father does whatever my mother tells him to do. I would never have invited them at all, but Danny’s big heart keeps pushing me to do it. She has faith that, with time, my mother will come around. I wish I could be more like Danny. Her unwavering belief in the human spirit is boundless.

She doesn’t say anything more nor does she try to push the subject. I hold her gently while watching TV and before long, I’ve forgotten all about my parents.

Just as the Sports Center episode is finishing, there is a knock at our door. I look down at my watch.

Right on time.

“Do you mind getting the door, honey?” I ask her as I stand up from the couch, dislodging her from my lap. “I’ll start making some breakfast.”

I smile as Danny grumbles at me but she gets up and walks to the door. I stand just outside the kitchen, my body leaning up against the wall and I watch her. She unlocks the deadbolt and swings the door open. I watch as stunned disbelief slides over her face. Standing on the other side of the threshold is her best friend, Paula. I flew her in from Boston to spend the weekend as a surprise for Danny.

Danny finally comes to her senses and lets out a piercing shriek. Paula answers her with an equally loud squawk of her own. I wince. These two women both put nails on a chalkboard to shame.

Now they are hugging each other and rocking back and forth with joy. It’s been almost six months since we moved here and I know Danny misses Paula a lot.

Before I realize it, Danny is releasing Paula and hurtling across the room to me. She jumps in my arms, locking those gorgeous legs around my waist and hugs me tight. Lust shoots through me having her pressed up against my groin and I try to think of something gross to prevent me from getting a hard-on while Paula stands there and watches us. Slugs, vomit, snot. Yup. That works.

“You are such a sneak, Ryan Burnham,” Danny accuses me. “How did you pull this off without me knowing it?”

I chuckle and kiss her lightly, squeezing her ass because…well, I can and she’s all mine. “I hate to tell you, babe, you’re not that observant. It was easy enough arranging this.”

I let Danny slide to the floor and then Paula gives me a big hug. She doesn’t scare me as much as she used to. We’ve sort of bonded over our mutual love of and need to protect Danny. I turn and leave them to their reunion and head to the kitchen to make us all breakfast.

I love Madison Square Garden. There’s an actual vibrating buzz of excitement in the air as over 17,000 fans wait for the game to start. Paula is sitting next to me, happily chewing on a hot dog. I still can’t believe Ryan flew her here for the weekend. Just when I didn’t think it was possible to love him anymore, he goes and does this crap. He’s impossible and he’s mine.

Normally, when I come to Ryan’s home games, I sit further up in the stands, but I guess Ryan wanted to make it special with Paula being here. Tonight, our seats are on the ice, just to the side of the Rangers’ bench. Now I can get a close up view of my honey at work.

We’re still waiting on Ryan’s sister, Emily. She usually goes with me to every home game. She’s in her first year at Columbia and totally loves New York. I don’t see her ever leaving it. And it’s amazing how much our relationship has grown. Those girlfriend/sister lunch dates I had once fantasized about have come true. I mean, Emily still has her issues, and she’s actually trying to break away a bit from her mother’s domineering ways. Overall, she’s actually a very sweet girl but sometimes I can see a little of Celia Burnham peeking through. The fact that she and Ryan have grown closer over the past few months makes my heart sing.

I look at Paula. God, I miss her so much.

“So how have you been doing?” I ask her.

“Just peachy. Work at the record store is…well, boring as shit but what’s a girl to do. How about you?”

I sigh. My life is freakin’ fantastic and I keep waiting to wake up from this dream. “There are no words, Paula. I’m studying music again and I’m with the man of my dreams. I don’t think the English language has enough adjectives to describe my feelings.”

“You are such a dork,” she replies.

“Harpy.”

“Rhinoceros.”

“Bilbo Baggins.”

I think I have her with this one but she remains stone-faced. Then she gets me when she leans over to me and starts singing…really, really loud.

“Why do you build me up

Buttercup baby just to

let me down

And mess me around

And then worst of all

You never call baby

When you say you will

But I love you still

I need you

More than anyone darlin’

You know that I have from the start.”

I bust out laughing and notice a smattering of applause from the people around us. Paula just smirks at me and I lean over and give her a quick hug. Yes, I have missed her terribly.

“Oh, God. Please don’t tell me I have to sing just to sit with you two?”

I look up and see Emily standing there. She’s stunning with her glossy dark hair and those same bourbon eyes that Ryan has. She’s wearing her brother’s jersey —#73 —just like me.

I stand up and give Emily a quick hug and she sits down next to me. She knows Paula but not enough to give her a hug so they both just mutter, “Hey” to each other. And now I’m ready to get on with the show. I want to see my man.

***

I don’t know if it will ever change but every time I see Ryan step out from the tunnel and skate onto the ice, my body quivers. It must be part nerves but if I’m honest with myself, it mostly has to do with the fact that he’s just so damned hot in his uniform. And I could not be prouder of him. He made it to the NHL and his dreams have all come to fruition. The man is simply amazing and he deserves every bit of it.

Ryan skates by, giving me a little wink and my smile stretches from ear to ear. I’m vaguely aware of Emily and Paula talking but my focus is on Ryan. I get so nervous for him on game days. Today, before he headed over to the arena, he seemed a little off. I’m assuming he was just anxious about the game, which is understandable. They are playing the Pittsburgh Penguins and they are #1 in the Atlantic Division.

I’m surprised when the lights in the arena dim just slightly and the announcer says in that deep baritone voice, “Will Danny Burnham, please turn your attention to the Jumbotron at center ice.”

Suddenly, a spotlight is on me and I feel a million prickles run across my skin. My face immediately heats up with embarrassment as if I just got busted sneaking in after curfew. I drag my gaze up to the giant scoreboard and the screen shows the camera is focused on me, Paula and Emily. I take note of the stunned expression on my face and Paula is waving happily at the camera. Emily just has her mouth turned up in a smirk.

What. The. Hell? Did they do this as a prank?

Before I can turn to them to ask, the video of us blacks out and the words “You Are My One and Only” flash onto the screen. My breath catches in my lungs and my head is literally buzzing. That’s what Ryan and I call each other. I have no clue what is going on but I sense it’s something big.

And then Ryan is on the video. He’s in his uniform and the video only shows him from the waist up. I glance out to the ice but with the lights dimmed, I cannot see him. And then Ryan starts talking on the monitor.

“Danny…you are my one and only…just as I am yours. My life with you is almost perfect…but not quite. The only way to make that happen is if you will agree to be my wife.” He takes a pause, then a deep breath, and then he says with the most devilish smile on his face, “And I figure if I asked you in front of all of these people, you would never embarrass me by saying no. So will you?”

The screen blanks out for a second and then the video comes back up of me sitting there in my seat, looking bewildered. Paula and Emily are looking at me expectantly. The arena is eerily quiet.

Then I hear from just behind me. “So, will you?”

I swing around and Ryan is standing there in the aisle —just a foot behind my seat —in all his full hockey regalia. His smile is gone and he is looking like he might be sick any moment if I don’t say something. He reaches out and I see he has a black velvet box in his hand. He opens it up and inside is the most exquisite diamond ring I have ever seen. The sparkles flying off of it are in danger of causing me to have a seizure. I stand up and step out into the aisle, staring into those copper eyes. I see promise, hope and love shining back at me. I see my future and my salvation.

Everything seems to be in slow motion and I hear a few people scream out, “Say yes!”

I walk up to the step where Ryan stands and then walk past him to the step above. He turns his body, following my movement and I’m sure he thinks I may be bolting. But I’m not. I just want to put myself within better reaching distance to his enormous height.

And then I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face just below his jaw. “Yes, Ryan. I will marry you.”

His arms tighten around me and I pull my head back. There is so much emotion vibrating between us, I half expect him to give me a scorching X-rated kiss. But I’m sure he remembers the cameras are on us and he instead feathers the softest kiss on my lips, followed by one on my forehead.

The arena erupts into cheers and Ryan releases his hold on me. He takes the ring and puts it on my finger.

“I love you so much,” he says softly, so only I can hear.

I stare at the ring for only a second but then look back into his beautiful eyes. “I love you, too. Now get back out on that ice and kick some Penguin ass.”

He throws a dazzling smile at me, slaps me on the butt and hustles off. I watch him until he disappears from sight and I wish that my parents could have been here to see this.

I glance around me and everyone is cheering and smiling at me. Paula and Emily walk up and wrap me in fierce hugs, grabbing my hand to look at the ring. Complete strangers reach out to clap me on the back. I have all of this emotion and vibrancy swirling around me. My heartbeat is working overtime and I’m actually a little dizzy from the onslaught of sensation.

I swing my gaze back to the ice and I see Ryan is down there skating again.

Just looking at him, I immediately feel myself calm. Everything comes back into focus. Unbelievable warmth and peace suffuses through me.

All because of my Ryan…my one and only.

You asked, and you shall receive. So many readers have reached out to me wanting to know what happened to Danny and Ryan.  I realized it was an epic fail not to have put in an epilogue. As such, I am going to write an epilogue and offer it free on my website.  I hope to have it finished soon and will post updates on it through Sawyer Bennett’s Facebook Page.

I am also starting to write a spin-off to Off Sides.  It will be featuring Emily Burnham, Ryan’s sister and will take place three years later.  I have it all pretty much mapped out and I won’t give away much here.  I’ll only say that you will still despise Celia and there will be more hockey.  Oh, and there will be a hot, hot man…who will be Off Limits to Emily.

Watch for teasers on my Facebook page as I work my way through the manuscript.

XOXOXO

Sawyer

The past few days have been crazy!  I’ve had so many positive comments about Off Sides and I’m walking on air.  I am publishing an updated edition that corrects a few mistakes in the editing. The one that was driving me the nuts was at the very last minute before publication, I changed the word “champagne” to “Dom Perignon” except I mispelled it “Doom”.  I’m normally a huge stickler for proofing/ editing and I can’t believe this blatant mistake made it through.  I know something else has probably been missed and it’s easy to correct if someone brings to my attention.  So that has been done and is being re-released.

Most importantly…I have had a huge outcry for more of Danny and Ryan.  And I’m so glad because I’m not ready to let them go either. I’ve been brewing some ideas and I think a book about Ryan’s sister Emily is in order, and I will make sure there is plenty of Danny and Ryan to satisfy those who want to know what happened. I realize in hindsight (and from the numerous comments from fans) that I should have done an epilogue.  However, I can argue (I’m a lawyer after all) that had I put the epilogue in, I may not have been incited to write a follow up book.

I’m deep into writing my sequel to Forever Young (my YA paranormal) but I am going to go ahead and start a follow up to Off Sides.  Does Danny go back to Julliard?  Does Ryan go on to play in the NHL?  Who knows…but stay tuned to find out.

XOXOXO

Sawyer

Heh, heh, heh, heh…

I hate those freakin’ green pigs mocking me. I hit the restart button and slide my finger over the screen, pulling back the little blue bird. I let him fly, giving the screen a quick tap and my fuzzy blue missile splits into three, peppering my taunters with their rage.  Ice shatters and I slaughter the green sows.  Victory is mine.

“Hurry up, Ryan. Beat feet.”

I glance up at the group walking ahead of me. They’re all laughing, arms linked together.  They look like a fucking re-run of Friends. We are all perfectly dressed in our designer clothes compliments of our families’ obscene wealth.  We have our perfect salon hairstyles and we are leading our perfect college lives. And I absolutely hate it sometimes.

Tonight we are slumming it a little. We’re walking from a frat party to a 24 hour diner nearby to get some food.  Oh, the shame of it all.

Between the copious amounts of alcohol and pot at the party, we all have a serious case of the munchies. Well, my munchies are just because I’m hungry. I, unfortunately, cannot partake in the cannabis laughis as the athletics department at Northeastern springs random drugs tests on its athletes. And I’m not about to jeopardize our hockey season on a little bit of reefer. I sure hope Mike and Carter stayed away from that shit tonight.  I can tell by the way the girls are giggling, they were partaking.

It’s 3:00 a.m. and I’m not nearly drunk enough to miss the fact that I wish I could ditch my friends and head back to my frat house for some sleep. It’s been a long night and looks like it’s about to get longer.

The men in our merry band constitute a portion of the first line on the Northeastern hockey team.  We’re all pretty tight. My right winger and best friend, Mike Yanalas, calls out to a group of young, street thugs leaning up against an old Dodge Charger smoking cigarettes. He has his arm around his girlfriend, Cameron.

“What the fuck you looking at?” Mike yells at them. He’s drunk as a skunk and I sigh inwardly. I so do not want to have to back up his drunken ass in a fight tonight.

Luckily, the Crip wannabes don’t say anything and slink away into the darkness. I’m not surprised, really.  We are some pretty big dudes and most people would be crazy to fuck with us.

We turn onto Hay Street and we are back on my home turf. The gym where I work out is just a few blocks down and my frat house is in the opposite direction. Sally’s Diner sits almost in the middle of the two points and has served as our post-party stop for the three years I have been a student at Northeastern. I break into a little trot to catch up to the others.

As we all pour into Sally’s, I breathe in deeply the scent of frying bacon and french fries. The place is fairly busy even though it’s the wee hours of the morn.  There are several tables filled with drunken students and an old man hovering over a cup of coffee at the counter.

After pulling a few tables together, the group sits down, pulling the sticky menus out of the placeholders in the middle of the tables. I loop my foot around a chair and kick it backwards, sliding it out from the table.  I sit down and lean back, stretching my legs out in front of me. Crossing one leg over the other at the ankles, I continue to ignore the group in favor of Angry Birds.

I don’t bother with the menu. I already know I’m going for the Husky Special.  A cheeseburger with a fried egg on top plus a butt-load of french fries on the side. I’ve been working out like crazy getting ready for the start of our hockey season in a few weeks so I can spare the calorie overload.

“Ugh…this table is just nasty. I don’t know why we always have to come here.”

I keep my focus on my mission to destroy as many pigs as possible, mentally rolling my eyes at Angeline. It’s irritating the fuck out of me that she’s here with us and her spoiled whining is already grating hard on my nerves.

I was stunned when she showed up at the party tonight as we had been furiously trying to avoid each other since we had broken up a few weeks ago. But I suppose it was inevitable that we would see each other again, given our social circle was pretty tight. It also doesn’t help that Mike is my best friend and Cameron is hers.

I sneak a quick glance at Angeline and just shake my head. She’s trying to wipe the table down with hand sanitizer and napkins, a grimace plastered to her face. And watching her fret over a dirty table just reiterates to me I made the right decision in breaking things off.  Angeline is just a little too prissy for my tastes. Hell, she wouldn’t even give me a hug after my games until I took a shower. In hindsight, I’m surprised she didn’t wipe me down with that alcohol gel of hers before we had sex.  Or make me double wrap my dick with two condoms.

I pull my lower lip between my teeth in consternation. Seeing Angeline tonight was surreal. I expected her to still be furious with me for breaking up with her. Instead, she walked right up to me and gave me a big hug, telling me that it was good to see me.  I repaid the compliment, although I didn’t really feel it.  It was the polite thing to do.

As the night wore on, Angeline went from friendly banter to overt flirting.  I didn’t fail to notice the numerous times she laid her hand on my arm when she was talking to me or the way she would stand on her tip toes to whisper something in my ear.

Don’t get me wrong.  Tonight, Angeline is rocking a pair of skin tight jeans, a barely there halter top and some sky high heels. She is oozing sex and had she not been concentrating wasted energy on me, she would have made some other guy very happy to be having her attention.

Toward the end of the night as the band was playing one of their last songs, she tried to rope me into dancing with her. I politely declined, telling her it was probably not a good idea.  She seemed to take the rejection gracefully but then promptly invited herself along when we all decided to hit Sally’s.  I should have just gone home but I really was starving and figured I could brave another half hour of Angeline.

So here we sit, and I’m trying to focus on slinging birds at pigs, keeping my attention half on the talk around the tables. It takes all of about five seconds for someone to mention Descartes and we are off and running.

I find it hilarious that when college students get drunk or high, we immediately start discussing philosophy. I mean, who gives a rat’s ass about philosophy, but throw a little alcohol into the mix and suddenly everyone wants to pontificate.

We’re all in a level 300 philosophy course called Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century Philosophers.  Word around campus is that Dr. Anderson, who is about a hundred and twenty years old, basically sleeps through class and tells you exactly what will be on the final exam. The class is supposed to be a cake-walk. I sure hope so because I have damn good grades going into my senior year and I want to have an easy schedule so I can put more of my efforts into hockey.

“Well, I think dualism is a load of crap,” I hear Mike say with flourish. He had a slight slur to his words. “If the mind exists independently of the brain, then how are physical memories created? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“None of it makes sense,” I mutter, my eyes still glued to my iPhone. No one even spares me a glance which is fine by me. My game is far more interesting that discussing Descartes.

“That’s narrow sited on your part,” Angeline scoffs. “Regardless, I find it more fascinating this concept of ‘I think, therefore, I am’.  I mean, that’s pretty deep on a level I never bothered to think about before.”

I am pretty sure Angeline has never thought about anything deeper than what designer jeans she will wear in the morning but I am impressed how she steers the subject away from the mind numbing philosophy of dualism.

I can see the waitress approaching from the corner of my eye but I don’t look up as I am perilously close to breaking my high score. She stands there for several seconds while the conversation rages on, patiently waiting for a break in the expenditure of brain cells. When no one pauses to even take a breath, she gives a little clearing sound with her throat.

The table goes silent then I hear Angeline say in her most affronted voice, “Excuse me. But we are in the middle of an important discussion. Do you think it’s appropriate to just interrupt us with the assumption we are ready for you?”

Everyone starts laughing hysterically, myself excluded. But I do give an inner smirk to myself and just shake my head.  Angeline can dress someone down and make them feel about three inches tall in just a matter of seconds. It’s a true art form of the criminally wealthy and insanely narcissistic.

Angeline isn’t finished with her though. She turns to the rest of the table and says, “I guess we can’t really fault her ignorance. I mean, she slings hash for a living. This conversation is probably a little over her head.”  She then breaks out into a fit of giggles that has me grinding my teeth together.

Okay, even I admit that’s a pretty low blow but I don’t say anything.  I keep my head down, avoiding engagement with Angeline at all costs. She’s drunk and she’s mean.  Not a good combination and I don’t have it in me to fight with her tonight. Hell, that’s one of the reasons I broke up with her.  It just always seemed to be a fight.

Before Angeline can say anything, I hear the waitress reply, “I’m so sorry.  It’s just…I saw all of you sitting here, and well, forgive my ignorance, but I’m pretty sure Ockham’s Razer says that among competing theories and all things being equal, the simplest theory is probably the correct one. I saw you had already looked at the menus and put them back down. Therefore, the simplest theory is that you are ready to order. Think of it this way… I think I saw you review the menus, therefore I am here to take your order. I mean, I know Ockham is a little before Descartes’ time, but it’s still a sound principle, don’t ya think?”

There’s a moment of stunned silence and my eyes snap up to the waitress.  This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all night…Angeline getting her spite jammed back down her throat. The rest of the table bursts out in a fit of laughter at the waitress’ cheekiness and I am sure that Angeline has to be fuming.  But I don’t look at her because when I look at our hash-slinging philosopher, my eyes go wide and I sharply inhale. She’s stunning. No, unique. No… that’s not it. Uniquely stunning…that’s what she is.

She has dark blond hair that she wears up in a high ponytail. She’s a natural blond. I can tell by the color of her eyebrows and I’m sure if I get her pants off, I can confirm that. The bottom four inches of her hair is dyed a pale, lavender color.  She is sporting a silver ring through her left nostril and a small silver barbell through her right eyebrow. She’s not wearing any makeup but she has that sort of natural beauty that should remain completely unadorned. Flawless complexion with the sexiest smattering of light freckles across her nose. Her eyes are a gorgeous hazel color that I bet get greener when she’s angry or excited.  Right now, they are swirling with mischief and she has full, pink lips that are smirking down at Angeline.

I don’t know what it is about this girl, but fuck, she’s hot. And clearly smart as shit.

I’ve never been into girls that had facial piercings or dyed hair. The type of girls my parents expect me to date wear pearls and cashmere and have a pedigree a mile long behind their names. How does mother put it? “Your father is in the public eye so we must maintain proper appearances at all times.”

My eyes rake down the waitress’ body and I can get away with it because she’s in a staring war with Angeline right now. She’s wearing a Northeastern t-shirt and really short, shorts that showcase miles of tanned leg.  She has on running shoes and sporting a little apron around her waist. Just above her right breast, which looks equally as luscious as her left, is a name tag that says, “Danny”.

Miracle of all miracles, Angeline seems to have been struck dumb.  Nothing is coming out of her mouth but there are daggers flying out of her eyes.

Tucking her pencil behind her ear, Danny puts her hand on her hip. “I tell you what…when you’re ready to order, how about…” she pauses to look around the table and points right at Carter, “…you…just raise your hand when you’re ready to order and I’ll come back over and help ya out. Okay?”

Without waiting for a reply, she shoots Carter a wink and turns her back on us. I can’t help it but I start laughing out loud and Angeline swings her eyes at me in fury.  I ignore her, still chuckling.

“Wait, Danny,” I call out. She turns around and looks at me with surprise. I’m sure she didn’t think I would call her by her name. “We’re ready to order.  I think you’ve made an excellent philosophical argument.”

Sauntering back to the table, Danny holds my gaze and I can see her appraising me. I don’t flinch or look away, and I’m returning her gaze with equal intensity.

She walks right up to me, close enough I can smell her…and she smells like summer rain. “So, what will you have?”

She looks even better up close and I hope my tongue isn’t hanging out. I want to tell her I will have her, with a side of her, and for dessert…her. Instead, I order the Husky Special.

She winks at me. “Sure thing, stud.”

I hear Mike snort over that but I don’t care.

She goes around the table and gets everyone’s order.  After her smack down of Angeline, everyone is appropriately subdued and polite.  I don’t think anyone wants to go head to head with this girl.

I watch her closely.  Even though she was basically just called an ignoramus a few minutes ago, she seems confident and self-assured. She smiles at each of us when she takes our order, even Angeline, who is noticeably acquiescent when she orders a fruit cup and a glass of ice water. I’m impressed and find myself very curious about this girl.

Why is someone so smart working in a diner?  And what possesses someone to dye their hair purple or pierce their nose?  I don’t get it but I find myself wanting to know.

After Danny puts our order in, conversation resumes although we’re discussing hockey now instead of philosophy.  I think we’re starting to sober up.  Mike, Carter and I discuss our season opener against Boston College.  While we are talking, I watch as Danny moves around, talking to customers. She laughs a lot and has a killer smile with a dimple in each cheek. I also notice she has a killer ass but hey, I’m a guy.

Apparently I’m not as covert as I think I am because Carter leans over and whispers to me, “She’s pretty hot, huh? You thinkin’ about hitting that?”

I laugh him off. “Nah, man. She’s not my type.”

“Well, with that body she’s more than my type. I wonder if she’s got any piercings we can’t see.”

I can’t say I didn’t think the same thing. Still, there really is no way I am going to find out. I can tell by looking at her she is not the type of girl that does one-night stands.  Oh, she may think she’s tough with her dyed hair and piercings, but looking at her you can tell she’s more angel than devil.  Too bad for me. And for her, too.

And a one-night stand would be the only way I could find out the answers to my questions. She definitely is not dating material because my parents would have a fit if I showed up in the media with her on my arm. This thought is disappointing to me. It’s been a really long time since someone has interested me like this and now I’m all pissed off that I have to live my life by my parents’ standards.

I give a silent sigh and punch Carter playfully on the arm, “Go for it, dude. Your ugly mug might have a shot with her.”

RELEASING 2/23/13 ON AMAZON