Break a LegA Holiday Short Sequel to Hidden Agenda

By EPIC Award-winning authorLaurie Larsen

Another favorite fromRandom Moon Books

Break a Leg

COPYRIGHT 2013 by Laurie LarsenSmashwords Edition in 2013All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner

whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Cover art by Kimberlee MendozaPublished in the United States of AmericaThank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the

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Table of Contents

Break a Leg

Chapter One of Hidden Agenda

Reviews

Q & A Interviews with Laurie

Recent Random Moon Book Releases

Other Books by Laurie Larsen

A Word About the Author

The holidays can be stressful, especially for New York advertising exec Tony White, who just got dumped. Will his Christmas be as dismal as he expects, or will wannabe Rockette Joss McGee dance her way into his heart?

Break a Leg

"I didn't want to do it this way."Tony White quit his incessant multi-tasking, quieted his movements. Focusing on the

phone propped to his ear with a shoulder, he asked, "Do what?" The glow of the computer screen on his desk distracted him so he switched it off. The attraction of his client's new advertising campaign papers was too strong, so he flipped them over, only blank white pages now. "I'm sorry, Melinda. I'm all yours."

Her tired laugh had an ironic tone. "What a coincidence.""You know it's rough when you call me at work. I'm ADD to the hilt. But you've got my

full attention now."Her sigh came over the phone line. "I can't do it anymore, Tony."A sliver of apprehension permeated his heart. What had he missed while he was

sidetracked? "Do what, baby?"A pause. "This. Us. You and me."He shook his head, dislodging the phone from its perch. He grabbed it with a hand and

lowered his voice, eyeing his open office door. "You're breaking up with me?" She made a small gasp, and he could tell tears were on their way. Damn. "We've had a lot of fun, and you're a great guy, but we just want different things in life."He laid his head back against the chair. How many breakups involved that tired old line?

Weren't all the memories they'd shared worth something?"We're at different stages," she continued and he couldn't help interrupting her, "You tell

me what to do, Melinda, and I'll do it. Seriously. You think I don't know my faults? I'm stubborn, I don't always listen, I can be a smart-ass."

She started to interject and he kept going, on a roll now. "But I can work on those things. And be honest, some of those things are actually what you love most about me, right?" He waited for a response but she was into full-fledged tears and nose sniffs now. "Baby, come on, now. Eight months. You want to throw eight months away?"

She drew a ragged breath. "I don't, but I think it's the best thing." Jealousy pierced his temple with a sharp throb. "Is there another guy? Have you met

someone?" He tried to control his voice, keeping it as even as possible.She sighed in frustration. "No. But at my age, I can't waste time. You and I want

different things in life. You've already had your family. I haven't. And you don't want to start over, do you?"

He hesitated, thinking of his teenage son and daughter in Connecticut, living happily with their mother, their long visits every summer, their short visits every month. Of course he didn't want to start over. Babies? He shuddered.

"Do you?" She was pushing it now, finding her strength. His silence answered in place of words. "See? We get along, we have fun, but that's not enough. I want to get married. I want to have kids. And you don't want any part of that."

His mind raced, looking for an argument, but how could he come up with one? "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"I know. We made a good pair.""We sure did. There's never going to be another one like you." Damn it if his voice

didn't break. Had she noticed?

"Look, let's not make this too hard. I'll come over while you're at work, get my stuff out of your apartment and leave the key."

His heart started to race as he leaned forward in the chair. "We can't even see each other again? Say good-bye? You're just sneaking out of my life like a thief in the night?" He looked up at the ceiling.

A short pause made him think she'd reconsider. Then, "I think it's better this way, Tony." She drew a deep breath. "I wish you the best."

He let the breath he'd captured in his lungs escape. "You too, babe. I'm jealous of the son of a bitch who gets you."

"Hey! That's my future husband you're talking about."He tried to deliver an obligatory chuckle at her attempt at humor. Their conversation

died on the vine and she finally whispered her good-byes and hung up. He held on to the receiver, the urge to slam it fierce. He stared at the far wall of his office, minutes ticking by while his head spun. The anger passed and instead, Tony laid the phone in its cradle on his desk. Gentle, like laying a sleeping baby in a crib.

Another one bites the dust.He reached for the suit jacket draped over his chair and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of

the pocket. Of course he couldn't smoke in the building. Setting an accidental fire on the 27th floor of a Manhattan high rise -- now, that would be the ultimate end to a crappy day.

He tapped one out, then palmed the whole pack and headed for the door."Tony? Have a minute?" Alyssa Fontaine called to him as he breezed by her office, a

few doors down from his own. Sneaky escapes were impossible on this floor considering each office faced the corridor with a glass wall.

"Not really," he responded and shrugged. He continued down the hall. The need to get out was strong. Alyssa wouldn't hold it against him. They were a great advertising team in addition to being best work buddies, and besides, she was still in honeymoon heaven after her sudden elopement with millionaire boyfriend Grant. Who was he to spoil her delirium?

He dove onto the elevator and pressed L for Lobby. Ahhh, solitude. Hard to find in the commerce capital of the world. He needed a chance to clear his head, to analyze his latest romantic failure and he couldn't do that while making small talk with a colleague.

His privacy in the cramped space was threatened when some guy he'd never seen before hustled toward the open elevator door. By impulse, Tony pushed the Close Door button. The man caught eyes with him as the door swooshed closed, his suspicion clear as day.

"Oops, sorry buddy," Tony called with an apologetic wave. But he wasn't. Not in the least.

A few minutes later, the door re-opened with a hum. He strode across the lobby, holding the cigarette between two fingers.

"No smoking in here," a security guard behind the counter ordered."I know, I know." Tony waved him off. He couldn't blame the guy for trying to enforce

rules. But c'mon, what smoker didn't know them by now?He stepped outside onto the sidewalk in front of the building that housed the McDunn

and Early offices. Madison Avenue was packed with pedestrians, droves of people navigating the precious inches of concrete. It was a wonder anyone ever got where they were going.

Loud, happy tourists carried loads of shopping bags, thrilled about presenting their loved ones with unique gifts from New York City. Laughs pushed out little puffs of air, visible in the chill of December in the city.

One benefit, he decided, of being dumped weeks before Christmas: no shopping or gift-giving required.

He took a few steps from the door, turned and leaned against the front of the high-rise. Resting one foot up against it, he brought the cigarette to his lips and lit the tip, taking a deep, slow drag. A few minutes in, he shivered. He rolled his eyes. Damn! He'd been in such a rush he'd left not only his suit coat, but his overcoat up in his office. Today's chill wasn't exactly shirt-sleeve weather.

Mind over matter. The cold wasn't that bad. What, 25 degrees? He shivered again.He finished the cigarette and was faced with a decision. Either go back and get his coat,

or risk pneumonia staying out in this bitter weather. He turned reluctantly toward the door and grinned. Alyssa, holding his overcoat, strode toward him.

"Idiot," she said, hoisting it to him."Thanks." He shrugged into it."You needed a smoke that bad? Left your coat?"Alyssa was the only person at McDunn and Early he a) trusted to tell, b) wanted to tell or

c) was interested in her opinion. So he came out with it. "Melinda dumped me."Immediately her face softened and he saw the empathy in her blue eyes. Not pity. There

was a difference. "I'm sorry, Tony. I know how much you loved her."Tony frowned. Love, is that what he felt for Melinda? A generous description, at best.

Alyssa's perspective was shaded. She thought everyone was as deliriously happy and in love as she was. But whatever.

"I don't know if I was in love with Melinda, but I enjoyed having her around. We had fun together and she was always up for anything. It didn't take a lot of effort being with her. It was easy."

Now it was Alyssa's turn to frown. "Well, no wonder she broke up with you. Did she know that's how you described her? Not exactly Romance Central, bud. A woman wants to feel special. It's your job to make her feel one in a million."

He bobbed his shoulders inside the coat, warming himself. Time for a rare moment of self-assessment. "I'm just tired of the game, Alyssa. And I'm tired of being alone. So if I don't want to be alone, I have to play the game again. And that thought just … exhausts me." He sighed. He let the cigarette drop and squashed it with his heel.

"I know," she said softly and rubbed his back.They stood in silence for a moment. Then Alyssa put on her perky tone. "Listen, it's

about quitting time anyway. Why don't we get out of here, you come home with me? Caroline and Grant are baking cookies, and we thought we'd order pizza for dinner. Plenty for one more."

Sure, just what he needed. Bask in the elated happy ending of the Fontaine family. Let their happiness wash over him and remind him how much he was missing.

"Thanks anyway, but I'm gonna pass. I think I might take a brisk walk. Probably could stand to work a few more hours tonight, so I'll clear my head, then go back up."

She studied him a moment, then shrugged. "Okay. Call me if you want. Take care of yourself."

"Yes, Mom," he chuckled.He watched her hustle back to the door to escape the chill. He turned the corner onto

31st Street and walked north. Head down, he paced himself as best he could and let the city blocks melt away under his feet.

By the time he walked a mile, he'd had an epiphany. Melinda was right to end their relationship. She wanted a future, a spouse, a family. He didn't. Melinda deserved a man who wanted the same things out of life. It wasn't fair of him to hold onto her just because he was content. Because it was easier to stay together than to find someone else. What kind of selfish prick was he, anyway?

Sometimes self-assessment was downright depressing.He pulled out of the surging pedestrian traffic and looked around. Radio City Music Hall

was right across the street. He headed for the renowned landmark. It was practically deserted due to the early hour. Doors wouldn't open for tonight's Christmas Spectacular for several hours. Gazing up at the festive marquis, he encouraged the city's holiday spirit to come and get him. If anyone needed a little Christmas magic today, it was him.

The thought of calling Melinda back had just washed over him when he heard it. "Help! Anyone?"Tony jerked his head toward the muffled cry. "Hello?""Yes, oh my God, help! Someone's there! We need your help, please!""I'll be right there." It was an automatic response, but one that posed a problem. He had

no idea where "there" was. "Uh, miss? Where exactly are you?"He heard a grunt. "Here, see? I'm pushing the door open. Can you see it?"The back side of the building sat in early evening shadows. But he caught a flicker of

movement about ten yards down the block so he followed it. Sure enough, a heavy door was opening and closing slightly like it was being pushed from inside. An exit only door, it didn't have a knob on the outside. He grabbed it with his palm and pulled it open, stepped inside.

The big room looked like Santa's workshop, however, instead of toys in stages of construction, there were clothes. Bright, sequined, multi-colored costumes.

"Thank God you stopped. A hand, please?"A beautiful, young woman knelt on the floor. She was dressed like a tree ornament -- a

short dress, or more accurately, a form-fitting leotard like a dancer or ice skater would wear, with diagonal stripes of sequined red, white and gold, a huge bow tied across her back, glittering under the bright lights of the warehouse. She looked tall and fit, and unbelievably lovely. Her face was void of makeup but her skin gleamed, her blond hair gathered into a tight ponytail. Her lips begged for a kiss and he had a sudden urge to cover them with his own.

He shook that thought away when he realized the urgency of the situation. The woman hovered over another woman, who Tony judged to be forty or slightly older, dressed in a white cotton overcoat, lying on the floor.

Tony covered the steps between them, kneeled and reached for the older woman's wrist for a pulse, then her neck.

"I feel a pulse. What happened to her?""She fainted. A few minutes ago. I've been trying to wake her, or at least move her away

from the door."Her voice caught and he looked into her eyes, laced with tears. His heart leapt, along

with a determination to help. He wanted to be her hero. Where had that come from? And how many eons had passed since he'd last felt it?

"We'll help her. Have you called 911?""I tried. The land line's been disconnected here in the warehouse and I'm not sure where

my cell phone is." She twisted her neck, looking around the massive room."No worries, I've got mine." He pulled his cell out of his pants pocket, and as he did, he

spotted a cabinet hanging on the wall, white with a red cross on it. "Hold on, I see a First Aid kit over there," he pointed. "Stay with her, and I'll see what I can find."

"Okay."He strode over to the cabinet and started sorting through the items: Band Aids, anti-biotic

ointment, gauze pads, ibuprofen. Then he saw a little tube and grabbed it. "These are smelling salts. They usually revive someone who's fainted. They were a

staple on the field when I played high school football. Might as well try it?"She nodded and he popped the tube open, waving it beneath the woman's nose. The

vapors escaped and sure enough, within seconds, the woman jolted once, relaxed back, then opened her eyes.

"Oh Marta," the young woman cried. "I was so worried. Are you all right?" A rush of emotion flooded his heart, so strong his pulse raced faster. Despite the glitz

and the glamor of her costume, this woman genuinely cared about the other's well-being.The woman, Marta, with short brunette hair and utilitarian hands, looked up, dazed.

"What happened?" "You don't remember? You passed out while you were fitting me. One minute you were

talking, then thump, you hit the ground."Marta sighed, shook her head, and struggled to come to a sitting position. Tony rushed to

hold her shoulders. "Hold on there ma'am, let me help you."She glanced at her watch. "I've got to quit doing this. It's past five and I can't remember

when I last ate. I'm sure my low blood sugar is kicking in. My fault." Tony detected the slightest hint of a German accent. Marta reached out and grasped the hands of the younger woman, squeezed them. "I'm so sorry, Joss. I didn't mean to alarm you."

The beautiful Joss closed her eyes, wiped some tears from her cheeks. "Are you sure that's all it is? Maybe we should take you to the emergency room. They could check you out?" She motioned to Tony. "He could call 911."

"No, no. Believe me, it isn't the first time I've gotten wrapped up in my work, forgotten to eat and my damn body rebels against me. Just give me a few minutes -- and some crackers from my purse. I'll be fine." She ran a hand across her forehead. "Lots to do, you know."

Marta struggled to get her feet under her. Tony and Joss assisted her on both sides, lifting her to her feet and over to a chair. Once she was settled, Joss said, "You need to take better care of yourself. No more work until you get some food."

Tony suggested, "Why don't I run out and get you something? Isn't Carnegie Deli like a block over?"

Joss looked at him with gratitude in her eyes. "Yes, it's over on 7th Ave." She turned back to Marta. "How about a sandwich? Some protein, some sugar."

Marta waved a hand, as if to resist, but gave in. "Fine, fine. Then we still have your Toy Soldier costume, remember. You must be ready for your debut."

"We'll make it."Tony glanced from one to another and suddenly something was clear. "You're a

Rockette! She's fitting you for costumes!"Joss blushed. "Yes, well, up until tonight I was an understudy but one of the regulars

rolled an ankle in rehearsal and won't be able to go on tonight. So, I'm getting my chance." She smiled a dubious grin.

"Congratulations. I'll run out to the deli and be right back. How's that?"Joss went quiet and took a step toward him. She reached a tentative hand to his face,

resting it on his cheek. "I don't even know your name, but I can't thank you enough for the help."His skin felt warm from her touch and his heart rate skittered a little faster. "Tony. Tony

White. Nice to meet you."She smiled and moved her hand to shake his. "Joss McGee. Thanks for coming along

when you did, and thanks for being a trustworthy, generous guy. It could've been anyone walking by at that moment, but I'm glad it was you."

His brain flooded with the implications of the moment. It seemed significant. Or maybe not. He was a simple guy and wasn't one to ponder things like fate. "My pleasure. Now, you keep our patient resting and I'll run out to get her dinner. And yours, for that matter. You hungry?"

Joss shrugged. "I guess I should eat something. Here," she looked around, "let me give you some money."

"No need. I'll be right back."He headed for the same door he came in. On the way, he picked up an empty coffee can

setting on a table and tucked it in the doorway so he wouldn't lock himself out. He jogged a block over to the deli, ordered three sandwiches loaded with meat and cheese, selected a variety of salads and a bag of chips. Three bottles of water, pay the bill, and hustle back. All within the space of fifteen minutes.

The ladies had moved to a table and were seated. Marta looked much better, color returning to her cheeks. They were laughing when he placed the bags of food on the table and started unloading them.

"Wow, look at this haul. I won't be able to fit into my costumes if I eat all this," Joss said with a chuckle.

Marta tsked. "You eat this as a start. That's all I do with your costumes, bring them in, bring them in. You fill out and I won't have so much work to do."

Joss looked over at him and winked. "Well, I'll eat as much as my nervous stomach will allow tonight."

Tony sat down beside Joss and they all dug in. As they ate, his first priority was getting to know this gorgeous new Rockette a little better.

"So Joss, has it always been your dream to be a Rockette?""Always." She nodded heartily.Tony laid his sandwich down. "Let me guess your story. You grew up in the Midwest, a

small town girl. You've taken dance lessons since you were four, and you dreamed about making it to New York City. You dropped out of college because you didn't see the point, you moved out here and waitressed until you got your big chance. The Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Music Hall. And now … tonight, your chance to shine." He faced her with a wide grin. "How close am I?"

Joss connected her gaze with Marta and they both burst out in laughter. "Not by a mile." She spooned some salad onto her sandwich wrapper.

"Really? Then let's hear your version."She threw a mischievous grin Marta's way and cleared her throat. "I grew up in a

penthouse on Park Avenue overlooking Central Park. My father is a Wall Street investor and my mom was a Rockette for twelve years. I took dance lessons mainly to be like her. I graduated from New York University, then went to law school. I practiced law with the Prosecutor's Office for three years but didn't find it to be satisfying. I wanted to try something completely different while I was still young."

"Like dancing professionally?" He had to admit he was stunned by the story, and not just a little impressed. This was obviously one smart woman.

She shrugged. "I thought it would be fun to see if I could follow in my mom's high-heeled, high-kicking footsteps. She called someone she knew at Radio City and got me an audition."

"Impressive. And you got the understudy position?"She sighed. "Not quite. My first audition, they didn't think I was ready, but they were

nice enough to tell me why. I took those shortcomings to my dance instructor and we worked and worked till finally I was ready for another audition."

He smiled. "So you got it the second time.""Nope. By the second audition, my mom's friend had retired so they didn't know me

from Adam and weren't inclined to audition me at all.""You're kidding. That's awful. What'd you do?"She took a drink from her water bottle. Her eyes glittered as she spoke and he wondered

if he'd ever seen a woman so beautiful. "I decided it was time to get creative. I put on one of my mom's old Rockettes costumes from the 1980s and told them I was interested in doing a historical costume display in the Music Hall lobby. They agreed to an appointment to hear more about it. Once I got in front of them, I started dancing."

This woman had guts. And smarts. And beauty. Especially the latter. "Unbelievable. What'd they do?"

She laughed. "I danced three complete numbers out of the current Rockettes repertoire. They asked me to step out while they talked, and when I returned, they reluctantly offered me an understudy position. They told me if I came to every rehearsal, learned every dance, filled in whenever needed, I'd be up for a permanent position next year."

"Reluctant, why?""I outsmarted them! But it got me where I wanted to be, so it paid off in the end."She pushed half a sandwich and her untouched pasta salad away. "Sorry for wasting

food, but I can't eat anymore." She glanced over at Marta. "You take your time, Marta. I know we have some more tailoring to do before the show. Shall I call one of the other seamstresses?"

"No. I'll be ready." She gestured at Joss with her half-eaten sandwich. "This is doing the trick. I feel good."

Tony scooted his chair back and stood. He could take a hint. "You ladies have important work to do. I'll leave you to get to it." He started putting trash in the bags.

Marta took a few steps to him and put her hand on his arm. "Thank you for your help today. You're a good man. You helped me and I thank you from the bottom of my heart." She patted his arm.

"Not a problem. Happy I could help." His face turned a little warm. Marta wandered off, gathering her tools.

Joss slid her arm through his and walked him to the exit door. "I want to thank you too. It turned out to be something minor, but I tell you, I was panicked. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come along."

She came in close and he wished the moment would go into slow motion. He breathed in her scent, something floral and light, and then she placed her lips on his cheek. Not long, but a warm, lovely kiss from this gorgeous woman while his knees went a little weak and his breath a little shaky.

"What are you doing tonight, Tony?"

He shook his head. "No plans.""I'd love to leave tickets for you at Will Call. Could you use them? Would you come to

my very first Rockette performance? It would mean a lot to me.""Yes."She giggled, and he figured out why. He hadn't even let her finish asking the question

before he answered it. Nothing like appearing over anxious. Or desperate. But there was something about this woman. She was amazing, and he wanted to see more of her, get to know her better. Kismet had them connecting on one of the most important days of her life, and he wanted to see where it went.

"I'd love to come see you.""Great! Super. Two seats, then?""One is fine."That seemed to make her happy, judging from the beautiful smile spreading across her

face. "I'll take care of it. Come back at 7:30. Ask for your ticket.""Will do. Oh and, would 'break a leg' be appropriate?"She laughed. "Believe it or not, it is."She turned back to her work, and Tony slipped out the door, letting it close behind him.

* * *

Not even two hours had passed when he arrived back at Radio City, but the difference was massive. Before, the landmark was empty, quiet, peaceful. Plenty of room to let his feelings for this intriguing woman grow and expand. Now, people. Everywhere he turned. He pulled himself out of the cab and gazed at the long line of humanity waiting to gain access to the Christmas Spectacular.

He smirked as he headed for the end. A chronic New Yorker, he used this city for everything. His home, his work, his entertainment. This city had witnessed his elation, his heartbreak. Although he was aware that tourists flocked here for any number of reasons, it was foreign to his lifestyle. He rarely engaged in activities that tourists did. He existed in the bowels of the city, not in the heavily lighted outskirts.

But for Joss and her Rockettes debut, he would tolerate it. He cooled his heels in line for ten minutes while excited people around him chattered about the show. Finally, the doors opened and the mass moved forward. The lighted Christmas tree on the roof exuded garish light to those below. He ducked out of line and proceeded to the Will Call window, while the rest of them moved to the Purchase window, or straight to the ushers to be seated.

"Tony White."A young woman behind the glass located his ticket and handed it to him. He couldn't

help a smile. The guest of a Rockette. There's a first time for everything.He found his seat and settled in. The theater was magnificent and so was his location,

only about ten rows back from the stage. He turned and looked behind him at the circular layers of rows, the three levels of mezzanines. His heart jumped, surprising him. Many, many people would witness Joss's debut, yet he was one of the few who knew exactly what he was witnessing.

Eventually the curtain raised and the show began. He tried to remember when he'd last seen the show, and why. He was vaguely familiar with the dances, and the show's content had stayed traditionally the same over the years. He searched for Joss and frowned at how difficult the task was. A long row of women, all dressed identically, moving in precision lockstep. Very

little to differentiate one from the other, that was the point. But he wanted to pick her out, so he stayed with it and finally found her, then kept his eye glued on her movement across the stage.

She was doing well, they all were. It was a difficult job. So many dances, so many costume changes, so many steps to memorize. And if one dancer stepped out of line, it could throw off another dancer, too. He watched number after number, and then it came to the Dance of the Toy Soldiers, one of the Rockettes' many highlights. A long line of sexy women, disguised in uniforms of red jackets, white pants and hats probably two and half feet tall, all moving mechanically as toy soldiers. Marching, turning, all in precision as one while the orchestra swelled with strands of accompaniment. His cynical heart couldn't help melting with admiration.

Until one soldier circled away from the pack. This one did a 180 to the left, while everyone else twirled to the right. He couldn't be sure if it was Joss because he'd lost track of her in the big hat and costume that covered almost everything but a little peek at her face. He dearly hoped it wasn't her. Definitely not what she needed for an auspicious debut. The wayward Rockette recovered only a few steps later. Well, maybe five or six. She was out of line, realized her mistake, came marching back, and went on. Not a bit of impact on the rest of the line, they just left her spot open and kept dancing. But the Rockettes are all about precision. Perfection. Everyone moving exactly the same. And this particular goof, deceptively minor, he knew was very, very major.

He prayed it wasn't Joss who had stepped out of line. He prayed it had just been his imagination. Maybe no one else had caught it. But he knew from the buzz of gasps and whispers from the spectators around him, and even a pointing of fingers toward the stage that it was happening, in real time, not just in his mind.

He glared at those around him, wanting to reprimand them for pointing out the error. That protective side of him, so automatic, such a part of him. It had gotten him into trouble on many occasions before. He couldn’t prevent, he could only try to control it. So he tamped down the impulse and kept his eyes glued on the solitary dancer who had stepped out of line for the whole auditorium to see.

The dance ended, and the next one started, and his stomach was in knots. He had pretty much convinced himself it was Joss. He wanted to see her, to comfort her, to tell her how great the rest of the show was, besides those errant five seconds. Then it dawned on him. He didn't have her number, her address. He had no way of contacting her. He had to remedy that. This woman was special, and she needed his help. Who else would come to her aid in what he was sure would be her time of need?

When the show ended, he got up and left the grand theater along with the other 6000 audience members, through the beautiful foyer and out onto the street. He headed around the back to the same door he'd entered into earlier this evening. It was a crap shoot, but his heart was telling him, if he wanted to connect with Joss, this was the best way.

Of course, the door was locked, but he could wait. He'd wait all night if he had to. Fortunately, he didn't have to. About twenty minutes in, the door opened. He grabbed it

and held it while a man dressed in a custodian's uniform pulled a plastic dumpster outside. He jerked in surprise when he saw Tony.

"Hey. What's up, man?"Tony shook his head. "I'm friends with one of the Rockettes."The man gave him a dubious expression. "Oh yeah?""Yeah. Joss McGee. Do you know her?"

The man shook his head again. "No, but I'd be fired if I let you walk in here. Why don't you go in the front door?"

Tony steeled his gaze. "I was at the show tonight. I'm not sure where the dressing rooms are, and we didn't make arrangements. Look, bud," he ground to a halt, thought for a moment. He sighed. "This is our normal door." A little stretch of the truth, but not bad. "She had a bad night and I just want to be there for her, you know what I'm saying?"

The janitor shrugged. "I know what you're saying, but I can't let you in here. Call her and have her meet you."

Yeah, yeah, that would be an excellent idea except he hadn't thought to get her number. Damn. He wasn't about to let a little complication like that prevent him from comforting this woman who had captured his imagination, his thoughts and his heart.

In the last four hours.Impulse took over. Without thought of the consequences, he pulled the door open wider,

twisted past the janitor and ran inside. He brushed off the man's shout. "I'm sorry, man!" he yelled and ran into the big warehouse room.

It was deserted.He had anticipated a bunch of Rockettes in there, either in full costume, or at least

gathered after changing into their street clothes. But there wasn't a single dancer there. He turned and looked behind him as he ran further in. The janitor wasn't pursuing him. He'd probably given up and was taking his trash out.

Tony jogged by work tables, portable clothing racks and several sewing machines, then reached a door. He pulled it open and saw a hallway with multiple doors on each side. Dressing rooms? Could he be so lucky to find names on the doors?

No names, but letters. A - D, E - G, etc. Could these signify last names? Like, Adams through Davis would change in the first room? Or, first names? Ann through Debbie? He didn't have a clue, and he obviously couldn't open the doors to find out. He walked to the L - P and came to a stop. If these were Rockettes dressing rooms, arranged by last name, Joss would be in there. He was willing to take the risk that he'd guessed wrong. What other choice did he have?

He leaned in and put his ear on the door. Movement, shuffling, muffled voices. He was onto something. Soon, the door he deemed to be Joss's opened. He peered at the person coming out, and it was …

"Marta!" he exclaimed, so relieved to see a familiar face.She glanced over, but recognition wasn't forthcoming."Remember me? I got your dinner tonight?"A smile bloomed. "Oh yes. You see the show?""Yes! Joss left me a ticket. It was wonderful. Now I'm wondering if I can see Joss

personally and thank her."Her smile faded. "Uhhh, …" Her glance wandered back behind her into the room. So,

Joss was in there. He'd nailed it. She let the door slip closed as she stepped into the hallway."She's not feeling that well, uh …""Tony," he supplied."Yes, Tony. Maybe some other time?" Marta's eyebrows lowered in a sad expression.So, it was Joss who made the misstep tonight. All the more reason to see her. "I understand why she's not feeling well, Marta. She's upset. I could help her. Maybe

she'd like to see me."Marta shook her head. "I don't think …"

Tony pushed on. "Why don't you ask her? Give her the choice."She looked unconvinced. Tony grabbed her hands, and she winced at the contact.

"Marta, I helped you this afternoon, didn't I? You can trust me. Maybe I can help Joss, too."Marta gazed into his eyes, looking for who knows what. But whatever it was, she found

it and nodded. "Stay here."His heart jumped and he did as he was told. He didn't have to wait long. Within a

minute, Joss burst into the hallway, dressed in street clothes, her face scrubbed of her theatrical makeup, her hair in a ponytail. Her eyes were red. It was all the invitation he needed to pull her into his arms and hold her as close and as tight as he could. She rested her head on his shoulder and trembled slightly.

When she pulled back, she was wiping tears. "Ahhh, don't," he murmured, wanting to pull her in again, but she looked at him

expectantly. She was waiting for words of wisdom, of comfort, some damn message to make her feel better, to make it all right.

Who the hell was he to provide that? He'd failed at every relationship with a woman he'd ever had. Women may look up to him when the relationship is new and shiny, thinking he could be what they needed. But he always fell short.

Looking at her now, taking in her beautiful expectant face, raw with emotion, he knew he wanted to live up to her expectations. He wanted to be that man she needed in this moment. To fill her needs.

"You were great," he ventured. But it was the wrong sentiment. She shook her head angrily.

"No, don't go there. Please."He reached out. He needed to touch her. She didn't offer her hand, so he let his fingers

brush her forearm. "You made one tiny mistake. You did a million steps right."The vengeance in her voice startled him. "Don’t patronize me. I was the only dancer up

there who made a mistake. The only one who screwed up. It's a dance team, and I let everyone down. And I have to live with that."

Her eyes filled with tears again. He barely knew this woman, but her comments gave him a crash course on how to help her, how to love her. "Okay, you messed up. You feel awful. What do you do about it?"

She shook her head. "I may not get a chance to do anything about it.""Why?"She looked at him and heaved a sigh. "I'm not the only understudy, Tony. They have

lots of them. They're probably picking out the next one right now. I may be fired over this. Or put back on the bench. Because of one wrong turn."

The stakes were high. He hadn't realized how high, but he didn't doubt it. The Rockettes were internationally known, and only for the finest dancers. "Did someone tell you this?"

She shook her head. "I'm not a dummy. I figured it out myself."His heart gripped. Although his impulse told him to pull her into another hug, to baby

her, to pamper her, to tell her it wasn't as bad as she thought, that's not what Joss needed. She was an athlete, a performer, a competitor, a perfectionist. He took a gamble on his next comments, but pushed them out. "You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself."

She blinked."You screwed up. You feel bad. Move on. Work harder. Make sure it'll never happen

again. Show them you're the best damn dancer they've got. Give them no option but to put you

on stage again. Take control of this, Joss."His words hung in the air between them. Internally, he shuddered over the gamble he'd

taken. He half expected her to slap him in the face and march out of his life forever. He probably couldn't blame her if she did.

She pondered his message, the whirring of her brain almost visible on her face. She turned and took two slow steps away from him. He sighed and rolled his eyes. His gamble had failed. He didn't know her well enough for tough love. He dropped his head and turned to leave.

"You know," she started in a quiet voice. He stopped, turned to face her. "You're right!" He let out a held breath and a laugh. "Of course I'm right.""I need to go talk to the dance director." She strode back to him, closing the distance in a

few short moments. "Let her know this was a fluke and it'll never happen again. Convince her to let me dance tomorrow and redeem myself."

She focused on his face and reached for him. He stepped into her arms and they embraced again. "Thank you, Tony. That's just what I needed to hear."

She pulled away from him as quickly as she'd stepped in. She headed down the hall, throwing him a wink over her shoulder. Marching to her future, her destiny.

Marching out of his life. Wait."Joss!""What?" she asked, still walking."What about … can we exchange phone numbers?" He did not want to lose touch with

her."Oh." She stopped walking, reached into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "What's

yours?"He rattled off the number as she typed it into her phone. "There," she said, then turned

and kept walking. The phone in his pocket vibrated a few seconds later with her text."Good luck! Let me know how it goes." But he was shouting by now, she was so far

down the long hallway. She lifted a hand and waved, then disappeared through a door.

* * *

The next day, he called her and left a message. At night, he sent a text, "How'd it go?" The second day, after no response, he called her again. Another voicemail. That night, he sent another text. "It's Tony. Thinking about you. How'd your meeting go?"

On the third day, Alyssa plopped herself into the chair facing his desk. "Tony."He barely looked up from his computer. "Huh?""Enough. Snap out of it, already."He pulled his attention away from an email and studied her. "Huh?""I know you're upset about Melinda. But everyone's noticing how grumpy you are. At

least three Account Executives have asked me if you're mad at them. You've got to put her behind you."

He couldn't help snorting. "It's not what you think." She frowned, wrinkled her forehead at him. "Then why don't you fill me in, oh buddy

mine?""I met someone.""Oh!"He held up a hand. "But I've only seen her twice, and now she won't return my calls. So

by all appearances, I've been dumped twice in a week." He rubbed his chin. "I do believe that is a record, even for me."

"Tell me what happened. I'll be the judge of whether or not you've been dumped. Again."

He gave her an eye roll and a smirk. "The afternoon Melinda dumped me, and you brought me my coat, I took a walk and long story short, I ended up at Radio City Music Hall and met a Rockette."

Alyssa put up a hand. "Whoa. Too short. Go back to the beginning."So he told her the whole story. By the time he was done she had a weepy look on her

face and a smile on only one side of her mouth. "You were there when she needed you. Now, she just needs to work it out. You did nothing wrong."

He shrugged. "Then why hasn't she returned my calls?""I don't know. Here, give me your phone."He handed it to her, and she pulled up Joss's number. Then, surprisingly, Alyssa pulled

out her own phone and typed the number in. "What are you doing?" He leaned forward in his desk chair, suddenly nervous.

Alyssa held up a finger and shook her head. "Is this Joss McGee? Yes. Please hold for Tony White." She held the phone over to him, winked at him and backed out of the office.

He watched her go, then gulped and held the phone to his ear. "Hello? Joss?""Tony?" He couldn't quite read her tone. She definitely didn't sound thrilled to hear from

him, but maybe not mad either. "Yes. Um. Good to hear your voice.""Yeah, listen, I got your messages. I'm sorry I didn't call you back."It was an apology, but it wasn't an explanation. "I was beginning to think you'd lost your

phone or something. Then you picked up this call on the first ring."Damn! Did he sound petty? Insecure?"I thought it was my agent. The numbers are similar.""Oh." Well, that explained that. Did it? "So, how'd the meeting go with your director?"A moment of silence separated them. "Let's put it this way. Not as well as I'd hoped, but

not as bad as it could've been."Enough guessing games. "Tell me what happened. Come on, Joss. I feel like I'm

invested. Like I'm in this with you. Can you blame me?"She must've agreed. She took a deep breath and released a sigh. "She didn't fire me on

the spot. But she said I needed more rehearsal time before they'd put me on stage again. They put another understudy in the last few nights. Meanwhile, the primary dancer's ankle is healing. I may have missed my chance." She paused. "So I'm working my butt off on all the routines, and hoping I get to prove to her that I can do it."

"Can I help?"She let out a tiny laugh. "I don't know how, unless your best friend is the choreography

director of the Rockettes." The laughter went out of her voice. "But I appreciate your concern. Really."

"How about I take you out for dinner? I'm sure nutrition would be a good thing for you."Her pause lengthened and before he could stop himself, he said, "A drink? A cup of

coffee? A walk in the park?"Shut up, White. You sound desperate."Tony, you've been absolutely wonderful to me, starting with your rescue of Marta, and

all of it. But I can't get involved with anyone right now. I have to focus on proving to the director that I've got what it takes to move from understudy to primary. It's an uphill battle, but I've got to give it my best shot. If I don't, I'll always regret it."

And resent him, if he distracted her from her goal. He knew it as clear as if she had said it.

"Yeah, that makes sense. You work hard and get that spot. Go for it." His pep talk probably would've been more effective if he didn't feel so sad.

"Thanks. So, I guess that's it." Her voice was soft now."Okay." He should end the call, but he couldn't help just one more plea. "Joss? Will you

do me one favor?"He regretted asking that question when her response was tentative. He forged on, "Will

you text me the next time you get on the show?""Tony, you don't get it. I may not get …""I know you will. I have faith in you. I just want to know. Closure.""Sure." She said it as though she were shaking her head at the time, anxious to put an

end to the conversation."Break a leg."She chuckled and whispered, "Good-bye."The line went dead and he held it to his ear a few seconds. So that was it. A man didn't

meet a woman like Joss every day of the week. No sense wondering what could've been if circumstances were different. Time to gather himself up and get back to reality. He had a good life. A great life. A fantastic job, good friends, great kids. Back to it.

He cleared his throat and took Alyssa's phone back to her. She raised her eyebrows at him when he stepped into her office. He slid one finger sideways across his throat, shrugged and left.

A week passed, and then part of another. Days were full with the demands of work. He missed the text when it came in. His phone was in his pocket, but he was in a meeting with a client and ignored it. Afterward, he ran off to the next thing. Several hours later, he had a reprieve and glanced at his phone. There it was.

"Tonight."A grin popped onto his face. Joss was getting her chance.

* * *

It never occurred to him not to be there. He left the office early, went home to shower, shave and put on a fresh suit. Then he hailed a cab and got there an hour early. He wanted a seat as close as he could get. He wanted to not only watch her dance, but see the expression on her face when she nailed her moves and achieved her dream.

The cab let him out at the corner and he got in line to wait for the doors to open. When they did, he was third in line at the Box Office.

The wait in his seat seemed to drag on forever, but eventually the lights went down, the curtain went up, the music swelled and the show began. This time, he spotted her right away and kept his eye on her the entire show. She gleamed with radiance. Her smile beamed despite the costumes and the distance. She was having fun up there. And she was moving as one with all her partners. Not a single misstep.

Not that he thought she'd have one. He didn't know her well, but he thought he knew her

enough to determine that she would never allow herself a careless mistake again. He held his breath when the Dance of the Toy Soldiers began, but just as he suspected, it was perfect.

His heart swelled for her.When the show was over, he went directly to her dressing room. Once, someone seemed

like they'd stop him, and he just lifted a hand and said, "Friend of Joss McGee, one of the dancers," and kept walking. They let him go.

He lingered outside the door, wondering if the ladies were changing in there. Should he wait? But within minutes the door opened and a costumed dancer came out, grinned at him, and walked away. He grabbed the door and went in.

The room was crowded with dancers and their fans. Many were surrounded by a small crowd of admirers, and after only a short glance around, he spotted Joss in a corner, an older man and a stunning older woman with their arms around her, sharing hugs. He took a step in their direction, then stopped. Her eyes were closed, her lips curved in a smile.

Would he be welcome here?He had his answer the moment her eyes opened and rested on him. Her face transformed

with an excited grin. "Tony!" she exclaimed and motioned him over.Disregarding the older couple, he walked straight to her and pulled her into an embrace.

She came willingly, rested her head on his shoulder and tapped his back with her hand. He breathed deep. She smelled so good. Not like a perfume, but like a real woman, working hard pulling off her dreams.

"You did it," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear.She shivered. "I did, didn't I?""You nailed it. I knew you would."She pulled away so she could look him in the face. "You did know it, didn't you? You

never doubted it.""Of course I didn't. It wouldn't be smart to bet against you, Joss. You can do anything

you put your mind to."She smiled, her eyes showing a bit of confusion. "But how do you …"Her question was interrupted by the older woman, dressed to the nines in a red satin ball

gown. "Sweetheart? Why don't you introduce us to your gentleman friend?"Joss winked at him and hooked her arm through his. They turned to the couple. "Mom,

Dad, this is Tony White. He not only came to my rescue the night of my first performance, he never lost faith in me for my second."

Heat flooded his face and he held a hand out to Joss's father, then took Joss's mother's hand and leaned to kiss it, like an old-fashioned gentleman.

"Pleased to meet you. Joss has told me about both of you. You must be proud of her tonight. She was magnificent."

The pride evident on their faces as they looked at Joss probably only rivaled his own. She had good parents, he could tell, and they were proud, as they should be.

Mr. McGee said, "Jossy, is your friend coming to Sardi's with us?"Tony swung his eyes surreptitiously to Joss. It was nice of her father to ask, but he

wouldn't intrude if she was uncomfortable with it. But she beamed her smile and it warmed him."Actually, I didn't have a chance to ask him. But we'd love it if you could join us, Tony.

It's sort of a family tradition. My dad used to take my mom and me out to Sardi's after special Rockettes performances when my mom was dancing. The tradition now carries on with me."

His mouth dropped. This seemed like way too important an occasion for him to tag

along."Please join us? It would mean so much to me," she said with a smile.She didn't have to twist his arm. "I'd love to, thank you."She hustled them out so she could get changed. Tony and Joss's parents wandered out

into the Grand Foyer of the Music Hall. They made small talk, and fortunately it wasn't too long a wait till Joss emerged, radiant in a short, fitted blue dress, high heels, carrying her coat. The shimmering fabric accentuated her curves and reflected the blue of her eyes. Tony stepped forward to help her with the coat.

"Mom, Dad, we'll have to take two cabs. Why don't you guys take the first one and Tony and I will follow you when we can?"

They nodded. Outside, on the curb, Joss put her parents into a cab and waved them away. Despite her coat, Joss shivered and Tony pulled her in against him. He looked into her eyes and lost himself in their blue pools.

"You really were awesome up there. I was proud of you. "She looked down, blushing. "While we're alone, I just have to tell you one thing."His heart sank. What did she have to tell him? That she still had no feelings for him, and

she was just taking him along to dinner to keep her parents off her back?"You must think I'm a little crazy."He shook his head. "No.""Yes, you must, and you'd be right. Let me just explain my odd behavior, okay?" She

took a deep breath and took his hands in hers. "I work best when I'm focused at the task at hand. When I screwed up my dance a few weeks ago, and was given the chance to try it again, I had to give that 100% of my attention, my effort."

"Sure. I understand." An ADD multi-tasker like him? Maybe he needed to give her approach a try.

"Tony, let me finish. I don't date all that much, but I know what I like when I see it. And when I met you …" she darted her gaze, "I liked it."

A feeling like fireworks hit his stomach. He willed himself to breathe."I know myself. I needed time to relearn my dances, with no distraction. Because you

could be … a pretty big distraction for me."He smiled. Could this gorgeous, talented, intriguing woman actually mean …"Now that I achieved my goal, I can focus on the next thing."She didn't continue, so he had to ask. "Is the next thing, me?"She locked her gaze on his face, his lips. She bit her own and he almost exploded. "If

you want to be."His answer was interrupted when her cell phone rang. She dug it out of her purse and

gasped. She held up a finger and answered it. "Hello? Kate?"He watched her take the call, excitement building in her eyes, bubbling over into her

smile. A cab approached and stopped in front of them. He leaned for the door and helped her in. When the door closed, and he gave the driver the destination, she squealed.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I can't tell you. Thank you."She ended the call. Her smile beamed and she reached for him. She laid her hands on his

cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. Her soft lips came down on his, a touch of chill from outside, and loads of heat as well. He groaned. When she maneuvered her head so their tongues could do a dance of their own, his heart raced and the temperature in the cab went up significantly. He ran his fingers over her cheeks, up into her hair. She let out a little moan that

about had him stripping off his clothes.This woman was extraordinary. He knew it from the moment they met, but there was

something about experiencing her in this erotic moment -- the way she took control, took what she wanted from him, that made him want to investigate way more of her than the back of a cab would permit.

How long did they explore each other's mouths, how long did they test their passion and their chemistry? Long enough for the cab driver to stop them with an amused announcement, "Sardi's." Joss giggled and pulled away, poofing up her hair, while Tony concentrated on slowing his heart rate.

He dug into his pocket for the fare, handed it to the driver, and was about to step out, panting and all, when Joss touched his arm.

"I got it. I'm a primary now.""What?"She chuckled. "The phone call."Oh yeah, the phone call. Before they'd practically attacked each other."That was my director. Becky's ankle needs surgery, so she's taking the whole Christmas

season off. They were debating between me and another understudy. They picked me."Her smile couldn't have been happier or sexier. Oh, how he wished they weren't heading

into a public restaurant to sit with her parents.He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Congratulations. Now, can I ask you a question

of my own?""Sure.""How does a guy actually date a Rockette during the Christmas season? How can I find

some time with you all to myself?"She grinned deviously. "We'll have to be very creative."He leaned closer, captured her lips and tried to show her just how creative he could be.

As they left the cab, hand in hand, he thought, this was going to be one hell of a Christmas.

THE END

Did you enjoy Break a Leg? If so, I'd appreciate it if you would help others enjoy it too.

Lend it. This e-book is lending-enabled, so please share it with a friend.Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends,

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BN.com or Goodreads. If you do write a review, please send me an email at laurie@authorlaurielarsen.com so I can thank you with a personal email. Or visit me at www.authorlaurielarsen.com.

Break a Leg features the story of how Tony White found the love of his life, Joss McGee. But prior to Tony's story comes Alyssa Stark's amazing love story. If Tony's friendship with Alyssa sparks your interest, maybe you're interested in learning how they met. Here's a blurb of Hidden Agenda, by Laurie Larsen, followed by the first chapter.

Grant Fontaine is the widowed president of his father-in-law’s electronics company. Since the tragic death of his pregnant wife a decade ago, he’s become a high achieving businessman, but a social hermit. Several years ago, his lonely life took on new meaning when he discovered that the donation he’d made to a reproductive clinic long ago had sired a child. Through the services of a discreet private eye unafraid to push legal limits, he identifies his “daughter,” Caroline, and her mother, Alyssa Stark.

He satisfies himself with maintaining a watchful eye from a distance, keeping his identity secret until Caroline reaches adulthood. That is, until Alyssa’s career path transports her into his professional realm. Now, his careful plans are thrown out the window. His dream of being a part of Caroline’s childhood is so close … the last thing he counts on is falling in love with the girl’s gorgeous mother.

Chapter One, Hidden Agenda:

Subway doors whooshed open, an underground dragon expelling a roar and a blast of smoke. Pointedly ignoring the smell and the surging crowd of strangers, Alyssa Stark climbed the cement stairs onto the street. She claimed a tiny square of pavement to pause a moment, her breath catching in her throat as frenzied pedestrians swarmed around her.

Her first day in New York City. All her hard work and sacrifices had paid off. She had arrived.

Alyssa braced herself against the horde of busy people, determined to blend in. Nonchalant, going about their business without a thought. On the other hand, how many of her fellow New Yorkers had such exhilaration racing through their veins? She held back a grin.

A warm breeze blew her hair as she made her way to the corner and waited for the light to change. She studied the office building across the street where she would make her mark – where she’d prove to everyone just what she was capable of. A modern steel-and-glass masterpiece, McDunn and Early’s impressive midtown Manhattan offices rose far above its neighboring Madison Avenue high-rises. How many junior advertising execs plotted their rise up the ladder of hard work and accomplishment while gazing down at this very street corner?

The light turned green and Alyssa stepped off the curb, swept along with the crowd of walkers, while vehicles around them honked and inched threateningly forward. Reaching the opposite sidewalk, she broke free and strode to the front door.

“May I help you?” A stern-faced security guard in a blue uniform stood behind a counter to her right.

“Yes, please. I’m Alyssa Stark. It’s my first day of work at McDunn and Early.”The guard peered at her over bifocal glasses perched at the end of his nose. The gruff

look morphed into a smile. “Congratulations, young lady.” He nodded approvingly before lifting the phone to summon an escort for her.

A few minutes later, a man in a fitted suit emerged from the elevator and walked toward her, a tentative smile toying at his lips. His haircut was precision itself, and the darkness in his salt and pepper hair still won the battle of dominance. “Alyssa Stark?”

Alyssa stepped forward and took his outstretched hand. “Yes.”“I’m Tony White. I’m an Account Executive like you. I’ve been assigned to be your

mentor. You know, introduce you around, show you the ropes, shield you from imminent disaster.”

Alyssa grinned. She liked him right away. “Imminent disaster like what?”“Too numerous to mention. But I’ll venture a few: my first order of business is to

protect you from old Ambrose Early. He’s two generations removed from the contemporary Earlys, but he insists on an office, an expense account and a client or two.”

“How old is he?”“Eighty five, but he doesn’t look a day under a hundred. In his heyday he lived hard –

drinking, smoking, girls at his beck and call. He’s on a million medications and occasionally an oxygen tank, but he still thinks he’s a catch worthy of the most beautiful young women.”

“Hmmm.”“Just a warning. Old Ambrose will hit on you. Brace yourself and think of a firm, but

gracious way to turn him down.” Tony eyed her sideways. “Unless you’re into octogenarians with shortened lifespans.”

“Depends on how cute he is.”Tony raised his eyebrows at her. “Kidding! Just kidding.” She laughed and peered around the modern lobby, her

excitement difficult to contain. “Well, I’m happy to be here.”Tony chuckled with a shake of his head. “I’ll check with you at the end of the day and

see if you want to come back tomorrow.”They entered the elevator and Tony pushed 27. The highest floor she’d ever worked on

was 14. That was in Chicago, her last job. She was working her way to the top, literally.“So, did you move here alone?” Tony asked as they settled in for the ascent.“No. I have a daughter, Caroline. She’s eight. We’ve gotten pretty good at re-locating.

We’ve done it several times now.”“Divorced, I assume? Me, too. One son in college, a daughter in her last year of high

school. They mainly live with their mother in Connecticut, and I see them on holidays and a month in the summer.”

It seemed a lot of details to share with a stranger, but Alyssa knew that the best of professional mentorships began with getting to know each other on a personal level. In college, she’d often found men easier to form friendships with than women, as long as she set the right boundaries up front. In fact, her new mentor reminded her of several of her university buddies. She would rely on Tony to help her maneuver through the challenges at McDunn and Early, but if she was lucky, he could also be her first friend in New York.

Despite his open sharing of his own life, Alyssa would have to get to know and trust him

more before she opened up about her past. Her driven childhood, the abysmal mistake she made in college that led to a mismatched marriage, her divorce and her determined drive to make up for lost time in her career. And Caroline. Just like everything else in her life, if she wanted something, she’d achieve it with hard work, determination and single-minded devotion to the cause. Caroline was her daughter, no one else’s. And she was doing a good job raising her, too. Caroline was intelligent, loving, caring and friendly. The two of them were a team.

“Here we are.” They stepped off the elevator. A large aluminum sign hung behind a receptionist’s desk, declaring the name of her new employer in black metallic letters. Tony waved at a pretty young woman talking on the phone behind the desk and used his badge to key through a door to the right.

They began down a long hallway. Each tiny office had a glass wall facing the interior walkway. As they walked, they had a full view of whatever was going on inside. Each room uniformly held a desk, chair, bookcase and an expansive window overlooking Madison Avenue. The spectacular view was by far the centerpiece of an otherwise tight, cramped office space.

Two or three offices before the end of the floor, Tony steered her into her own. She stepped in and drew a deep breath. She turned around slowly, absorbing its ambience. She would make magic happen here. She would become one of the most successful Account Executives in McDunn and Early advertising history.

“Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.” Tony watched her with a smirk.“Illinois, hot shot. Chicago is a long way from Kansas.”“Yeah, well, you’ve hit the big time now.”“I know.” She stepped behind her desk and lowered herself into her chair. She spun

around to look behind her at the magnificent view. Across the street on the twenty seventh floor, another youngish woman executive in a high rise office building went about her day. Alyssa breathed deep and sighed. “I love it here, Tony.”

He laughed. “That’s only because you haven’t started yet.”She frowned. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve intimated that I wasn’t going to

like working here. Is there something you should be telling me, oh wise mentor?”He shook his head. “You’re not a rookie. You know how it is in this industry.

Advertising is a hectic, competitive, complicated business. And you and I are on the front line. It’s demanding and it sucks the life out of you. But we’re the gluttons who keep coming back for more.”

“I know it’s demanding. I know it’s hectic. But it’s what I thrive on. I love talking to a client and finding out what they need and why, and how my services can help their business. I mull it all over and I think about it over coffee, during my rides to work and in the shower. Then, voila! It comes to me. I create an advertising campaign that practically knocks the client over.” She sighed with satisfaction. “There’s nothing better, Tony.”

She broke out of her reverie and glanced at her mentor. He stared at her, the wise cracker now pensive. “What?”

“You’re exactly what I need, Alyssa. I used to have that passion. I’ve lost it.”Alyssa beamed at him. “You lost it! How could you? You work for the best ad agency

in the country, in the best city in the world. Of course we’re passionate about it. You and me, Tony. We’re going to set this company on its ear. Partners?” She held her hand out to him.

“You and me, Dorothy.”They shook and Tony got down to the business of acclimating Alyssa to her new co-

workers, equipment and supplies.

“And the keys to the kingdom—here you go.” Tony handed her a large envelope. Alyssa took it and peered inside. She pulled out a stack of papers.

“Your preliminary client list. These are inactives. Either they used us once and never came back, or they had a more ongoing relationship with us and ended it in the last few years. I suggest you get started making contacts. You know, doing what you do best.”

Alyssa smiled. “Gotcha.” She riffled through the papers. “About fifty or so. How many appointments do you think I can make this week?”

“Ten?”“And I say ‘p-shaw’ to you with your ten.”“P-shaw?”“I say I get 50% wanting to meet with me.”“Impossible. These folks have been inactive for a while, Alyssa. It might take some

convincing to get them to come back. No way you’ll get half of them to agree to a meeting.”Alyssa nodded, studying the list. “Giving me the crap stuff, huh? That’s fine. I can pay

my dues, just like everyone else. But what if I do get half?”Tony snickered. “I’ll buy you a welcome lunch at the best steakhouse in town.”Alyssa brandished the list above her head. “You’ve got a deal. And may I say that free

steak is going to taste awfully good.”

* * * *

The red light on Grant Fontaine’s phone was tripping over itself, blinking. One subtle blink for each message waiting. He nodded thoughtfully to the man in his guest chair, hoping he appeared to be listening, while he counted the blinks: one, two, three, four, five, six.

Shit. He had six messages come in for him while this dick-wad droned on and on. What a waste of time.

“We’d give Calibrite Electronics products top billing and the best placement in all our stores nationwide, Mr. Fontaine. Gadgetmart is devoted to a strong partnership with you, and that’s why we’re willing to move our other brand names to a less prominent placement.”

Grant let his gaze drift from the drone, his slicked-back hair and cheesy mustache more than he could take at the moment. He glanced back at the phone. Wait. One, two, three, four, five, six, SEVEN. Another message had registered while this Gadgetmart rep sat there blowing smoke. Grant didn’t want a strong alliance with Gadgetmart, anyway. He’d always felt Calibrite products deserved a classier reputation than sitting on the shelves of a warehouse-type store with tile floors, randomly ringing a siren and a yellow flashing light when a certain item was marked 25% off: “For the next eleven minutes, if you place the Calibrite web cam into your cart and run, not walk, but run to one of our checkout lanes, you will receive an additional 25% off! But only if you complete your purchase before the eleven minutes is up. Starting … now!”

Lights flashing, sirens blaring … is that the image he wanted customers associating with Calibrite Electronics? Absolutely not, and what’s more, Calibrite’s originator hadn’t wanted it either. His father-in-law had made it very clear that he didn’t want his company to deteriorate under Grant’s oversight. He may be retired, but he still kept a distant but clear-sighted eye on developments. Grant knew he’d be getting a call from the old man if he signed a distributorship deal with Gadgetmart.

“Mr. … uh,” Grant leaned forward to glance at the business card on his desk, “…Martin. I appreciate you coming in but I don’t think we’ll do business right now. I’ll keep your card on

file and if we decide to change our distribution direction in the future, I’ll give you a call.” Grant stood and hoped that was the end of that.

Mr. Martin sputtered a little, dug into his briefcase and started reciting figures: how many stores, how many customers, how much in annual sales.

Grant strode to the door of his office and opened it. “Thank you for your time.” Outside, Miranda, his secretary, looked up. He gave her a nod and she immediately rose and walked toward him, several folders and individual slips of paper in her hands.

“Mr. Fontaine, your next appointment is here. Here’s the background information and the proposal they submitted last week.” She bustled around the office, the height of efficiency. She headed toward the chair where the Gadgetmart rep was still sitting. “Mr. Martin, I’d be happy to escort you out. Mr. Fontaine needs just a moment to prepare for his next meeting.”

She held her hand out, and poor Martin had no choice but to rise and succumb to her instructions. He attempted a hasty handshake with Grant and a frantic, “Call me if you reconsider!” before Miranda hustled him out the door.

Grant collapsed into his chair and sighed. He really needed to give that woman a raise. There was no one better at their job than her. He shuffled through the ruse of folders she’d brought in. He knew Gadgetmart had been his last appointment of the day; the folders contained only blank sheets of paper. He smiled.

Reaching for the phone, he typed in a passcode to retrieve his messages. He’d been out of sorts all day, unable to concentrate. And he knew why. If at least one of these messages was the one he was waiting for, maybe he’d get some satisfaction.

With the fourth message, he hit the jackpot. “This is Tom. Give me a call on my private line.”

Getting up to shut the door, he returned to his desk and typed in Tom’s private number. He’d memorized it years ago. He scowled when he got the pre-recorded message, pressed “0” and barked at the beep, “I’m free now. Give me a call at the office. It’s …” he checked his watch … “4:23.”

He hung up and waited, drumming his fingers on the desktop, however, staring at the phone didn’t make it ring. Pushing his chair back, he stood and wandered over to the bookcase on the adjoining wall. A photo album caught his interest and he flipped to about halfway through and stilled. A photo beckoned him: a little girl, blonde hair like her mother’s, light brown eyes like his own. They had both contributed to create the beautiful creature in the photo. It had been her first day at a new school almost two years ago. Her plaid skirt and white blouse indicated a private school. And today his girl started classes at another school. In another city. He ached with wondering. How had it gone? Had she made it safely? Who were her teachers? Would she like it there?

The shrill ring interrupted his thoughts. He circled back to his desk and snatched up the phone. “Fontaine.” The digital read out of his clock winked at him: 4:27.

“It’s Tom.”Grant let a small smile escape. Four minutes. Well within their agreement. “Whatcha

got?”“The move was successful. She left Chicago on Friday, flew out here and stayed at the

Belmont on 42nd Street till the moving van arrived late Saturday afternoon. I have the apartment address, you want it?”

“Email it to me – encrypted, as usual.”“Sure. She and the girl spent the day Sunday unpacking. They left the apartment about 3

to walk around the neighborhood – got a bite to eat, returned about 6. Stayed in all night. This morning, they rode the subway to the Sheridan Street stop and walked to the Kensington Day School.”

“That’s Caroline’s new school?” Grant jotted the name down. He’d need to check into its background, credentials, and look into their donation policies. He preferred his gifts to stay anonymous, and none of the previous schools had given him a problem with that.

“Yes, it’s in Manhattan, south side, near the south edge of Central Park.”“Is it a good school?”Tom snorted. “If you had to guess, what would you think?”Grant smiled. Of course it was a good school. Alyssa was impeccable with her research

of schools, neighborhoods and employers. Although he’d never met her in person, she was as careful with her parenting as he’d be.

If he were a real father.A fist of pain squeezed his heart and he pushed it away. He cleared his throat. “Okay.

What else?”“Caroline starts school at 8 AM, then Alyssa gets back on the subway and rides to Penn

Station. Her new job is at McDunn and Early, a high-brow advertising agency on the corner of Madison and 31st. This looks like a good step from where she was in Chicago.”

Grant nodded, allowed a small swelling of pride before he squelched it, as well. Alyssa’s successful climb up the career ladder had absolutely nothing to do with him. Then a thought dawned on him. “Thirty first? That’s only a few blocks from our call center.”

“Yeah, I know.”“I’m there on a monthly basis at least, checking on things. In fact, I’m scheduled to go

later this week.”“You’ll have to be careful with those visits. New York’s a big city, but it wouldn’t be

impossible to run into her if you’re within the same two city blocks. I recommend sending someone else, or doing them over the phone.”

“Anything else?”“Yeah, I’ve obtained her new work cell number, desk phone number and email address.

I’ll include those in the email.”Grant sat in silence, studying the notes he’d jotted. It was enough, for now. “Tom, good

job. Thanks, buddy.”“All in a day’s work.”“But you’re one of the best, you know that?”Tom chuckled. “The bill’s in the mail. And Grant…?”“Yeah?”“Congratulations. Your little girl’s in your backyard finally.”His handwritten marks blurred on the paper. Grant sniffed. “I know. Time to celebrate.”“Have one on me tonight, pal.”Nothing further would be accomplished today. Grant waved to Miranda and headed out.

He sped home and parked his car in the garage occupying the top two floors of his Soho high rise. He stepped onto the elevator and descended to the 14th floor – his apartment took up the southeast corner of the building, and boasted floor-to-ceiling picture windows on both corners. His view of the skyline from his vantage point on Canal Street was breathtaking. But tonight he barely gave it a glance as he drew the blinds and powered up his desktop computer.

He accessed his private email account, and just as promised, Tom had sent him all the

details about Alyssa Stark and her daughter, Caroline. Her new home address right here in Manhattan. Her work email and phone numbers. If he wanted to contact her he’d have his choice of method.

But of course, he wouldn’t contact her. He must never contact her. She must never know about him. At least, not until Caroline was an adult and she could make up her own mind about him. Meanwhile, Tom would keep a close, yet anonymous watch on Caroline and Alyssa – snap candid pictures and videos, occasional coveted voice recordings, and send them to him electronically. And he’d have to be happy with that.

Happy? Not by a long shot. Still, Grant had a good feeling about this. She was close by.After a quick dinner and a beer – after all, he’d told Tom he’d be celebrating – he

changed into his running clothes, locked the apartment behind him, descended the fourteen flights to the first floor and let the night swallow him.

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Reviews of Hidden Agenda

Here's what reviewers had to say about Laurie Larsen's Hidden Agenda:

"An intensely emotional read dealing with grief, religion, and what it means to be a family. Ms. Larsen deals with these issues in a believable and satisfying way which pulls at the heart strings and leaves this reader with a goofy grin on her face courtesy of the sweetly sentimental romance." Words of Wisdom from the Scarf Princess

"Ms. Larsen has created a sweet yet slightly sexy story that’s heartwarming with immensely likable characters. The issues addressed are unique and the author handles them beautifully. This is yet another satisfying read from Ms. Larsen and I look forward to what she’ll come up with next." Musings from an Addicted Reader

"I am always a sucker for this type of story and Hidden Agendas fit the bill. Ifelt for Grant, you could sense the longing to be part of a family and thebefuddlement of his attraction to Alyssa. I thought this was a charming readand was highly entertained." Crazy Four Books

"I love the cover. That is what called me to read this one. I really liked this story. It had my interest immediately and kept me turning pages until the end." Illustrious Illusions

"Hidden Agenda is the perfect title for this story! Everyone except sweetCaroline seems to have either an agenda or something hidden that they don’t want to share!" Deal Sharing Aunt

"When I read the blurb for Hidden Agenda, I knew I had to read it. This story definitely has a twist on it that I haven’t read before. Ms. Larsen is a new-to-me author that I will definitely be reading more of. Hidden Agenda was a really good read full of angst and betrayal." Delighted Reader Reviewers

A previously published guest blog post:

Ten Things That Readers Don't Know About Meby Laurie Larsen

TEN: I’m musical. When I was a kid I played five musical instruments: flute, piccolo, bassoon, baritone saxophone and guitar. Often I’d learn a new instrument just because a certain band or ensemble lacked one. I also wrote a few songs which was great fun.

NINE: Now, however, I spend all my musical talents on singing. I sing in the church choir, often do solos and have done more weddings than I can count. I started an exercise to see how many couples I sang for are still married, but they weren’t faring well, so I quit counting.

EIGHT: As a child, I rode horses. I competed for five years and rode English hunt seat, and yes, even did stadium jumping. Foxhunting (racing and jumping out in the wild) scared me half to death.

SEVEN: I spent a semester in Mexico City as a college student. I was an English major and Spanish minor. There was a time when I could hold my own speaking Spanish pretty fluently. Now, I only get the chance on the odd Mexican vacation. I can still form my own sentences but have trouble translating when native Spanish speakers talk to me.

SIX: I am the granddaughter of one of the inventors of the solar battery: Gerald Pearson, my mom’s dad. He worked for Bell Labs at the time and the invention was made on a team with several other brilliant scientists. My mom a few years ago accepted my grandfather’s induction into the American Inventor’s Hall of Fame. Unfortunately I did NOT inherit his brilliant scientific mind.

FIVE: I’ve worked for the same Fortune 50 company for 28 years!! I’ve enjoyed (almost) every job I’ve ever held there and I’ve always been proud of the accomplishments of the company. But I have to admit that I also love to dream about an early retirement so I can spend my time doing other things besides sitting in an office all day long.

FOUR: I’m an E! network junkie. When I’m channel surfing I go automatically to E! and if any of the following shows are on, I usually stay there: E! News, Keeping Up With the Kardashians, Sex and the City reruns, The Soup. If none of those shows are on, I’ll flip to TBS for old sit coms in syndication, CMT for country music videos or History Channel for episodes of Pawn Stars.

THREE: I have one brother, and I’ve lost one brother. My parents adopted my little brother when I was twelve and he was seven, and he was murdered when I was 24 and he was 19.

TWO: I’ve known my husband now for half my life. I met him when I was 25, married him when I was 27, and I’m now 51.

ONE: I consider myself one of the luckiest and blessed people in the world, thanks to God.

An Interview with Author Laurie Larsen

What inspired you to become a writer?It was August of 1998. I had two sons, age seven and three. I found myself in a very

busy and stressful day job. A business trip to Atlanta came up, where I gave presentations on Thursday, Friday, Monday and Tuesday. The weekend was almost a mini-vacation! Just me, all by myself in a luxurious hotel room, on expense account, with two heavenly days all to myself. I used the touristy materials in my hotel room to map out a day of sightseeing, and off I went.

One of my first stops was the Margaret Mitchell House. Margaret lived in a boarding house during about 8 of the 10 years that she was writing Gone with the Wind. Inside her apartment, she had a picture window in her tiny living room. A folding chair and a TV tray faced the window, a black manual typewriter sitting on the tray. As she generated chapters, she’d put each one in a manila envelope and stack them on the shelf of the picture window. When she wasn’t writing, she’d place a bath towel over the typewriter and the stacks of envelopes, hiding them from view.

For almost a decade, Margaret continued working on her novel. Throughout that time, life happened: she got a job, she got married, she broke an ankle, she had all kinds of illnesses. She kept writing. They’d have guests over and they’d point to the blob in the corner under the towel, “What’s that, Margaret?” And she’d answer, “Oh nothing, it’s horrible.” They’d press her and she’d say, “In a moment of weakness I decided to write a novel.” She never had any faith in it. She did it because she loved Civil War era history.

Standing in that house that day, listening to her story, inspired me. I was just like Margaret. I’d always loved writing, I’d just never written a book. I had ideas, I just never had time. But guess what, Margaret didn’t have time either. All we have is our ideas, our desire to write and our determination to make it happen. If Margaret had decided she was too busy, look what American literary treasure we would’ve missed out on.

Something spoke to me that summer day in Atlanta. I cancelled the rest of my sightseeing, went back to the hotel and wrote the rest of the weekend. I wrote on the airplane on the way home, and I never stopped. Literally, NEVER. That manuscript I began that day turned out to be my first published novel, Whispers of the Heart. That book made me a published author and changed my life forever. It’s why I included in the Dedication page: “To M.M.M.: my inspiration.”

Tell me about one of your books. How did you come up with that (story, angle, idea)?

Keeper by Surprise is the story of Keith Hanson, a twenty year old guy whose childhood was an 18-year-long boot camp. His father, a Marine Colonel, was tough and his adolescence was peppered with significant father/son moments. Now away at college, he’s living his dream life, escaped from Dad’s tight rule. However, when Mom and Dad are killed tragically on their way home from visiting him, his life changes drastically. He’s stunned that his parents have named him guardian to his siblings, which requires him to leave college, go home and take care of business. A beautiful social worker, Lisa Carle is assigned to oversee him, and neither of them plan to fall in love. But Lisa is hiding a deep dark secret that would surely destroy their budding romance.

I couldn’t tell you exactly how I came up with this story. The first thing that zoomed into

my imagination was Keith, fully formed, flaws and all. And the moments from his childhood that have helped form him into the young man he is today. Not sure what these dramatic father/son scenes were, and where they would fit into a romance story, I started massaging and brainstorming until I came up with this plot.

Have you written a book you love that you have not been able to publish?Coincidentally, yes -- it was this book! I wrote Keeper years ago and started racking up

the rejection slips. Traditional publishers had several problems with it:first of all, it’s told primarily from Keith’s point of view, with occasional POV shifts to

Lisa. Most romance novels are told largely from the heroine’s POV, with occasional scenes from the hero.

Keith starts out the story with his college girlfriend Carly. That relationship is doomed when Keith’s life changes, and it is destroyed under the weight of his new responsibilities. Lisa doesn’t enter into the picture till about 60 pages in.

Keith’s age. Traditional romance publishers like their heroes to be in their mid twenties to late thirties. Twenty is too young for an adult hero, and too old for a Young Adult hero.

But I loved this book and believed in it. I set it on the shelf, and wrote (and published) several others. Then, the advent of the indie publishing e-book craze. One of the beauties of independent publishing is you can get those niche books out there (as long as they’re well written) that don’t fit into the traditional publishers’ book list. I’ve found readers themselves don’t have nearly as many problems with certain story elements, as publishers do!

What is your favorite part of a book?I love the beginning -- when a fresh new idea hits my imagination, and I know just

enough about the story to start writing it.

Do you use your OWN experiences?Sometimes, depending on the book. Some books are more drawn from my personal

experiences than others, although I suppose all my books have at least some of “me” in them. I ran into one of my friends who not only knows me well, but also has read all my books. She had just finished reading Keeper, and started listing all the uniquely “me” elements I put in the book, without realizing it -- favorite foods, restaurants, music references, etc. The book I’m working on now, is probably my most intentionally autobiographical book I’ve ever written, filled with my favorite places and activities.

Did you ever think you would ever become an author?Sort of. I always thought I’d be in the publishing industry, but I always pictured myself

as either a magazine writer, or an editor. I never really saw myself as a novelist. My first job out of college, with my new English degree in hand, was an Assistant Editor for a family-run magazine publishing company. I was responsible for copyediting the final proofs for the magazines, as well as reading all free lance submissions and making the initial decision to reject or pass on to my associate editor. Yes, I was the one yielding the rejection letters. But after a year of that, I realized I couldn’t really support myself on the meager salary. I moved on and got a more (boring but) well paying job. I was happy that about ten years later I rediscovered my connection to the publishing industry, only this time as an author.

How long did it take you to publish your first book, after you started trying?Call it beginner’s luck, but I actually sold my first book to the first publisher I ever

submitted it to. I really had no idea what I was doing, and consider it God’s help in guiding me and my newly discovered hobby. Since then though, I’ve earned my stripes with hundreds of rejections from both publishers and agents!

What is the hardest part of writing for you?What’s hard for me is that I’m a writer with a day job, so my writing time comes in little

spurts. I get home from a 9 or 10 hour work day, face my family with all their demands, and I’m lucky if I can squeeze out an hour, several times a week to write. So, keeping up momentum is difficult for me. However, having said that, I somehow make it happen. I started writing my first novel in 1998, and between then and now, I’ve written nine novels and published seven. So I guess it’s like the story of the tortoise and the hare. I’m slow and diligent, but I keep moving forward.

What advice would you give aspiring writers? Do it for no other reason than you love doing it. Don’t do it for fame or fortune, because

so many writers never attain either. Write because you can’t imagine life without writing in it. And if you get so beaten down by the negatives of this business, do yourself a favor and take a break. Then come back and write the best novel you ever wrote.

Why do you write about the things you do?I’m one of those authors who write what I know. I am so marred in reality, I can’t

imagine writing about vampires or aliens or witches or zombies. I write about my world. My tagline is “Everyday life with just a touch of worst case scenario.” It’s what I love to read and it’s what I love to write.

What are you working on now?I’m working on an inspirational Christian romance about a middle-aged woman whose

husband files for divorce following a mid-life crisis, and her daughter signs up for a college summer internship in Paris, leaving Leslie, a teacher, with an empty summer full of nothing. A whole lot of nothing looks depressing. So she decides to get in the car and escape. Take a road trip, no destination in mind! She opens herself up to where God leads her, and ends up experiencing life to its fullest. God places her in situations where she can use her unique talents and skills to help other people. And in so doing, what started out looking like the darkest summer of her life, turns into a life-changing summer of meaning.

Enjoy these recent releases by other Random Moon Authors

Kick the Candle by Genevieve Jack: (Knight Games, Volume 2) Commitment phobic Grateful Knight has her hands full. While she struggles to

understand her new role as Monk's Hill Witch, evil isn't waiting for her to come up to speed. Not only is there an increase in supernatural activity in her ward, she’s being evicted from her home, breaking in a snarky new familiar, and trying to sort out her feelings for her metaphysically connected and immortal boyfriend, Rick.

When Grateful foils a murder at a fae bordello, she uncovers a plot by a local vampire coven to obtain a secret weapon with the power to control both the living and the dead. History is threatening to repeat itself. And if Grateful doesn't give herself over to her role completely, it could cost her everything.

The Black Creek Series by R. T. Wolfe:Book 1: Black Creek Burning After six long years, Brianna Chapman is finally able to cope with witnessing the murder

of her parents. Then, dead animals start showing up on her doorstep, her tires are slashed and her yard is scorched by an unexplained fire. But Brianna refuses to reopen her parent's six-year-old arson-murder cold case, along with all the old wounds.

Nathan Reed sees the incidents differently and quietly begins an investigation of his own.As Nathan's and Brianna's lives and passions intertwine, Nathan discovers a painful truth.

Brianna's parents weren't the arsonist's target. Brianna was.And the killer is back to finish the job.

Book 2: Flying in ShadowsFrom the time she was a little girl, Rose Piper was sure of two things: she wanted to work

with animals and she wanted to win the heart of her best friend, Andy Reed. Now the most sought-after conservation biologist in the Northeast, she's trying to convince herself that one out of two isn't bad.

Andy spent most of his life following his dream of becoming a builder. Now a successful land developer, he has returned to Black Creek to win the girl he has loved since high-school and hurt too many times: Rose.

But efforts to keep their love together turn dangerous when a decades-old secret brings a murderer out of hiding, sending the pair running for their lives.

Book 3: Dark VengeanceDetective Nickie Savage is pursuing a paroled arsonist who's at it again. Worse, she's

plagued by the most recent victim's nephew, Duncan Reed, the person she distrusts the most.Duncan won't stop until the deadly arsonist targeting his Aunt is back behind bars. But

the smart and sassy Nickie Savage is in his way and getting far too close to a 30-year-old secret he's fought to protect.

When the arsonist strikes again with perfectly timed twin explosions, Duncan and Nickie must re-think everything they once believed about the arsonist and each other.

There's always great new fiction being released by Random Moon Books! Check here for the latest: www.randommoonbooks.com!

Other books by Award Winning author Laurie Larsen:

Hidden Agenda (contemporary romance)Keeper by Surprise (contemporary romance)Inner Diva (contemporary romance)The Chronicles of Casey V, Or Mental Ramblings of the Most Awesome Summer of My

Life (Young Adult romance)Preacher Man (Inspirational romance)Legacy of Lies (Women's fiction)Momentary Lapse (Women's fiction)Whispers of the Heart (contemporary romance)

Visit Laurie online at www.authorlaurielarsen.com

Or on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorlaurielarsen

Or on Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLaurie

A word about the author …

Laurie Larsen lives with her husband and two sons amidst the scenic cornfields of central Illinois. Her sons being the athletic creatures they are, she can bet that she’s dragged her lawn chair to every dusty baseball diamond within an hour’s radius, shivered through more football games than she can count, and cheered many a runner across the finish line across the state. Along the way, she’s taste-tested every concession stand’s offering of popcorn, hot dogs and an unusual concoction called “Walking Taco.”

As if life in Illinois isn’t exciting enough, Laurie spends her evenings in front of the computer, writing novels about love, families and relationships – everyday situations, with just a twist of worst-case scenario. Laurie’s current release, Inner Diva, is her sixth published book. Her fourth book, Preacher Man, gave her the esteemed title of Award Winning author when it won the 2010 EPIC Award for inspirational romance. For more information on her other books, as well as a journal, photo album and contest offerings, visit Laurie online at www.authorlaurielarsen.com.