Jane Blythe – USA Today Bestselling Author

Tag: romantic suspense

  • Week 115 – Omg can’t breathe can’t move

    Logan scanned the dark street and immediately zeroed win on the house across the street. There was an open window upstairs, he could tell because a curtain was fluttering.

    HIs gaze dropped to the ground beneath the window and he saw her.

    Amelia.

    His adorable neighbour who pretended that she didn’t watch him while he worked in his yard or played with his dog or left for work. He had intended to go over, introduce himself, ask her out, but he’d been swamped, between moving and a heavy caseload, including a high profile case, he just hadn’t found the time.

    Now it seemed they were about to meet.

    He ran across the street, when he reached her he found her eyes open, staring blankly up at the cloudy sky. She started when he leaned over her, their eyes met, then she opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs.

    Instead of being startled, Logan had to smile. It was this very same scream that had woken him up and alerted him that something was wrong. If she hadn’t screamed then her fate would have been sealed.

    “Its okay,” he said, reaching out tentatively and touched her shoulder. Not so much because he didn’t want to scare her, but more because he didn’t want to hurt her, she’d just jumped out of a second story window. “I’m a cop, my name is Logan, I live right across the street.”

    “Logan,” she breathed, like she wasn’t sure him being here was a good idea.

    “I already called in back up, can you tell me what happened? What made you scream?”

    She didn’t answer him. Instead she just stared at him with a lopsided smile. “You’re even cuter up close,” she said, then giggled and immediately winced. “Omg cant breathe can’t move.”

    “You probably broke some ribs when you jumped out the window,” he said with an amused smile. He had to agree with what she’d said, she was even cuter up close. “Can you tell me what happened?” He had to know what was going on so he knew what his next move was.

    “I’m embarrassing myself,” she grimaced.

    “Not at all,” he assured her.

    “I woke up because something was touching me. Thought it was the cat. It wasn’t. It was a man,” she relayed haltingly.

    Protective instincts rushing into overdrive, Logan went to stand but Amelia reached out a hand and curled it into the sweatpants he slept in. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

    That seemed to freak her out. “No, thats what people say in horror movies before they die. Don’t go, please.”

    He was going to argue with her, remind her that this wasn’t a horror movie it was real life, and that he was a cop, he knew what he was doing, but he was preempted when Amelia’s house suddenly burst into flames.

  • Week 114 – Was Logan playing her game? Afterall he is a cop

    Something tickled her cheek.

    Amelia swatted at it and rolled over in bed. She didn’t want to wake up yet, not when she and Logan were about to rip each other’s clothes off.

    Dreams were so amazing.

    Pretty much the only place a shy girl like her could get the man of her dreams.

    She was just drifting back off to sleep when something tickled her cheek again.

    Was it her cat?

    Fairy had a habit of batting at her face in the middle of the night, insisting it was morning and she be delivered her breakfast.

    “Its too early, Fairy,” she mumbled, snuggling down under her blankets.

    Breathing.

    She could hear breathing.

    And not cat breathing.

    With a gasp she bolted upright.

    There was someone in her bedroom.

    She didn’t even think about what she was doing, she just opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs, then launched herself off the bed and out the window, which she kept open even in the middle of the middle because she liked to be warm during the day but cold at night.

    Her bedroom was on the second floor and she went rolling down the roof then she was falling.

    And falling.

    It seemed to take forever for her to hit the ground.

    When she did it pain flared through her body.

    She wasn’t sure how badly she was hurt.

    Before she could even contemplate moving a figure appeared above her. It was dark out, and cloudy, snow was fluttering down around her, she couldn’t make out the features.

    Then light blinded her and the face leaned closer.

    Logan.

    It was Logan.

    Was Logan playing her game? Afterall he is a cop. Wait that didn’t make any sense. Was that what she meant to think? No, she meant was Logan the man who had been in her bedroom? He was a cop he wouldn’t have broken in.

    Amelia opened her mouth and screamed again.

  • Week 113 – So this is what we’re doing now

    Her new neighbour was hot.

    Like melt your panties hot.

    Piercing ice blue eyes, dimples, a smile that made her go all gooey inside, messy black hair that every time she saw it she wanted to curl her fingers into and drag his mouth to hers and kiss him until the world melted away into nothingness. She’d caught a peek at his abs the day he moved in, it had been a warm late fall day and he’d taken off his shirt as he carried boxes inside, she may or may not have drooled a little when she saw them.
     
    Okay, not maybe not.
     
    She had drooled.
     
    He obviously worked out a lot, his arms were all muscled, his body looked like a sculpted work of art. What she wouldn’t give to run her hands over those perfectly defined body and feel those arms or steel locked around her, holding her tight against that rock hard chest.

    Logan O’Hara.

    That was his name.

    She may or may not know that because she snuck over there while he was at work and gone through his mail. Probably a bad move since Logan was a cop.

    A cop.

    She had a thing for men in uniform, and this particular cop was just so dreamy.

    His car pulled into his driveway and Amelia darted back, letting the curtains fall closed just in case he happened to look over and see her stalking his house through her front window.

    “So this is what we’re doing now is it?” she asked herself. “If you like him just go over there and ask him out. You can do that. Its not scary.”

    Her little self pep talk didn’t do any good. She didn’t go up to guys and ask them out, and definitely not to hot guys she had a crush on to ask them out. She was shy and awkward and terrible at making a good first impression.

    Oh well, at least she could sneak little peeks at him from the safety of inside her house.

    With a yawn Amelia turned around, put out the fire roaring in the fireplace, turned off the lights and headed up to bed, if she was lucky maybe she would dream about Logan the hot cop.

    Tucking herself in, it didn’t take her long to drift off to sleep, she was a personal trainer at the local gym and she was always exhausted at the end of the day.

    Amelia didn’t know it but the second she was asleep a man rolled out from underneath her bed.

  • Week 112 – I . . . I can’t because I just can’t . . .

    Dante was standing on her doorstep.

    This was what she wanted, right?

    It was certainly what she had dreamed about last night. Actually she had dreamed that he did a whole lot more than turn up on her doorstep. Her dreams were more along the lines of clothes been thrown off, a lot of kissing, and some passionate love making.

    Now that he was standing here looking at him standing there with a bouquet of read roses in his hands all she could think about was how good kissing him had been in her dreams and wondering what it would be like to do it for real.

    “Sydney? You’re not saying anything, given what I know about you after the last two days its that you talk. A lot,” Dante said with a small smile.

    That coaxed a smile out of her. He was right it was abnormal for her not to talk. But he’s just asked her out and as much as she wanted to say yes, she was nervous. It was one thing to want to move on it was another to have fallen for someone so quickly.

    And she had fallen for him already.

    “I’m really glad you came here,” she started, “I was thinking about you all night, and I am happy you’re here, but I . . . I can’t because I just can’t . . . But I want to. I really want to. Its just I’m a widow, and you’re practically a widower, and I don’t know how well things will work out. And not to mention the fact that we’re both really different. You’re a cop and you work all the time, I’m a librarian who’s idea of a fun time is curling up in my favorite rocking chair, snuggled under a blanket, reading a book. I don’t know that you’d really enjoy doing that. So its not that I don’t want to, because I do, I think I said that already, its just that I’m not sure-”

    Dante-having learned that she truly did not stop talking when she was nervous until someone made her-broke off her rambling my wrapping an arm around her waist, dragging her up against him and crushing his mouth to hers.

    Without even thinking she curled an arm around his neck while her other hand tangled in his hair as she returned his kiss and pressed closer.

    In that kiss all of her doubts melted away. It was like Mitch’s voice was in her head telling that it was okay to move on. That he wanted her to be happy and that if Dante could make her happy then she should grab hold of that and never let it go.

    “Are you crying?” Dante asked, pulling back so he could see her.

    “Happy tears,” she assured him. “Want to take this inside?”

    “Do you really have to ask?” he winked.

    “Uh uh,” she shook her head.

    Dante lifted her feet off the ground and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her lips brushing against his as he carried her into her house.

    There were hard parts about moving on but there were good points too, and this was definitely a good point. It had been a long time since a man had held her and kissed her like all they could think about was ripping her clothes off and making love to her.

    She sighed delightedly as Dante laid her down on the couch and stretched out on top of her. There definitely were good parts about moving on and she couldn’t wait to experience all of them.

  • Week 111 – My head is spinning

    My head is spinning.

    That was Dante’s first thought.

    His second was that he needed his gun.

    Without moving he did a mental assessment checking to see if his weapon was still on him.

    It wasn’t.

    Whoever had knocked him out at the library had obviously taken his gun.

    The logical conclusion was to assume that the person who had attacked him was the very same killer he’d been hunting. The man who abducted librarians and ripped them to shreds. But he had learned a long time ago that the logical thing wasn’t always what happened, and that making assumptions often led to mistakes.

    So instead of assuming he knew what was going on he very carefully opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a cave, there were metal bars about five feet from where he lay, running from the ground to the roof of the cave.

    He hadn’t just been knocked out he’d been abducted.

    The pain from being hit over the head already forgotten, he had long ago learned how to compartmentalise pain, he jumped to his feet. He turned around and was surprised when he heard a voice speak from the shadows.

    “Oh, you’re hot. I mean well not hot hot, well, no, you are very sexy, you must work out a lot. I mean, I’m sorry, this is not appropriate ‘we just met’ talk, I shouldn’t have said you were hot. Not because you aren’t, because, yeah, you are, but just … okay, Syd, stop talking now,” a voice babbled.

    “You’re Sydney Carriere?” he asked, confused, trying to get a better look at the woman who was still standing partially obscured behind a large rock.

    “Yes, have we met?” She finally took a step towards him. “I don’t think I know you. Not that that means we haven’t met before, I don’t always have the best memory for faces. My mom says its because I spend too much time stuck in fantasy land. Because I love books and I’m always reading them. She says if I just spent as much time in the real world as I do in book worlds then . . . . Oh, I’m rambling again. You don’t care that I love books, and you’ve probably already figured out I talk way too much. I’m always being told that I talk too much. In school on all of my report cards . . . Syd, he doesn’t care about your report cards,” she shook her head at herself as she took another tentative step closer. “I’m just going to keep talking until you stop me. And I have a bad habit of taking to myself out loud. I don’t really know why I do it, and sometimes it gets embarrassing but I can’t seem to stop-”

    “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked with a small smile despite the dire situation he was in. “You’re not going to stop talking until I interrupt.”

    “Sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile. “How did you know my name?”

    “I’m a cop, the one who was working this case, looking for the man who brought us both here. Do you know who he is?”

    Before Sydney could reply a figure on the other side of the metal bars stepped forward. “Oh she knows who I am, just like she knows that its her own fault she’s here.”

    At the sound of the voice Sydney moved closer to him, standing behind him. That she was afraid of this man was plain to see. Given what he knew about the killer she had good reason to be. But why did the killer believe that Sydney deserved to be here? He couldn’t imagine Sydney doing anything deserving of being abducted by a serial killer, he’d known her all of two minutes and he already knew she was a sweet woman, albeit a little quirky. Was he wrong about her? Or was she just another innocent victim of a vicious psychopath?

    “Tell him, Syd.” The killer walked up and wrapped his hands around the bars. “Tell him why you’re here. Tell him why this is all your fault.”

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