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!!
Friday, July 29, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
When Real Life Gets In The Way…and a Question.
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
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
Thursday, March 17, 2011
The Waiting is the Hardest Part…
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.
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.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Websites, Computers and Hard Drives…Oh My!
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.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Fired Up - Grand Prize Winner
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
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
Monday, December 6, 2010
Fired Up Final Chapter
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?
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?
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Fired Up Chapter 15
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?
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?
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