Whew. What a week. I've been wearing my editor hat, trying to keep up with some pressing deadlines. But I have had a little time to write on some current WIPs AND keep up with my heavy slate of TV shows.
First… Arrow returned! Great episode. Seriously, I feel like I'm watching a movie every time it's on. And Banshee did not disappoint either. Also, Lost Girl? I'm sooooo happy it's back. I love the cast to bits!
So, tonight's post is from Exit Stage Left, a novella where my two main characters butt heads until, well… they don't. LOL Actually, it's sort of a case of instant attraction, very unwanted, but there nonetheless. J
Here's the tagline:
Sage Winesboro, the production director of his local playhouse theater, doesn't always see eye to eye with his new set designer, Georgie Freed. When she proves her worth, but decides to exit stage left, he realizes he's missing out on what could be a great working and personal relationship.
And the snippety peek…
Georgie exited her car and grabbed her designs for the set from the backseat. She dreaded meeting with the new director, Sage something or the other. His reputation for being a pain in the ass had filtered down through the grapevine and she hated working with prima donna morons.
You're not exactly Miss Merry Sunshine, Georgio.
She ruthlessly squashed her inner voice. Just because Georgie didn't suffer fools gladly, didn't mean she brought doom and gloom wherever she went. She loved her work, but hated the backstage politics.
She entered the theater through the backdoor and made her way through the darkened 'tombs'. Where the actors came up with their witty nicknames, she'd never know. She dropped by her workspace, a tiny, cramped space no bigger than a broom closet. Hell, it might have been one in a former lifetime. Unlocking the door, she deposited her bag, kicked off her flip-flops and slid her feet into her work clogs. She grabbed her portfolio, locked the door and headed for the backstage area.
A loud voice met her ears when she climbed the short set of steps leading to the right portion of the stage where the director and is production crew usually set up shop. Finding the space empty, she followed along the backdrop toward the deep, booming vocal coming from the main stage. Peering around the curtain, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.
The new director, she assumed, stood center floor calling out names of actors, actresses, and crew. Geez, the guy could project. He didn't have a headset on, yet she heard him loud and clear. The assistant director darted out from stage left and he turned, leaning in to listen to her.
Holy shit. Georgie tried not to gape. The guy had leading man looks—strong jaw, gorgeous cheekbones, and just the right amount of stubble to pull off 'tumbled out of bed' sexy. She sucked in a breath and fought an urge to fan herself.
Why would he work behind the scenes?
Maybe he's shy.
Georgie rolled her eyes. With an asshat rep, he couldn't be shy.
Stagefright? Lack of talent? Just because he can project his voice doesn't mean he can remember lines for shit.
Cripes, when did her inner voice but her bitch face on?
The moment you walked through the door, sweet cheeks.
Georgie tilted her head, admiring Sage's toned muscles. His jeans clung to his thighs and his shirt stretched across a well-defined chest. The man had really great arms, the kind she had a weakness for. She bit back a sigh. Too bad he had a nasty disposition. She could already imagine how great the sex would be with him.
Whoa there, Georgio, jumping the gun, aren't you? Besides, with your luck, he's probably gay.
She chastised her inner voice. "Shut. Up!"
The theater went silent.
Georgie's eyes slid shut and her head fell back. Shit. Her extremely bad habit of talking to herself would pick now to rear its ugly head.
Blinking, she straightened and found herself pinned by an angry blue gaze.
Sage lifted a brow. "Excuse me? Did you just tell me to shut up?"
Seriously? Georgie's inner voice is like writing a full-fledged character of its own. LOL
That's it for this week. Happy reading!