Monday, May 21, 2012

Meet STEAL YOU AWAY's Cass and Ramsey

Sometimes, I get an idea and I just have to run with it.


Yes, FATAL TARGET should be my top priority, and it is one of them, but I've been sucked into a new work. Whether or not it'll tie into the J. Carter & Associates series remains to be seen. I'm approaching it as a standalone, but it's possible the some of the unnamed companies are linked to JCA's enemies...


What hit me first was the magnetic attraction between former enemies Cassandra Sidell and Garrett Ramsey. He's a killer in a three-piece suit and she's the attractive hotel employee who foiled a hit. Both of their lives are on the line as Ramsey is fired by his employers and hits are put on both their heads. In order to stay alive, she'll have to trust him, even though he's using her to get his old job back.


Read on for a look at STEAL YOU AWAY.

Introducing Garrett Ramsey...


            Fingers drummed the steering wheel’s leather cover.
            Damn city traffic…
            He turned up the air-conditioner again, reluctant to take off his suit jacket. He was used to the lightweight wool-blend, the matching trousers, and the vest. His silk tie, a light blue, matched the tiny pin-stripes and his eyes.
            There was no way in hell he was bowing to the pressure of the stuffy car and stripping. He was a businessman, not an animal. Besides, he was only a few miles away from his meeting. If he hoped to keep his job, he had to look the part.
            Garrett Ramsey glanced down at the car clock, scowling. He was late.

Introducing Cass Sidell...

            Each new day was an accomplishment. Every morning she woke up breathing was a win for her. Survival was the name of the game and Cassandra played to win.
            For three months she dreaded the dawning of a new day. Every new face was a potential threat to her. Every charming smile hid a lying snake in wait. Dark hair was an immediate turn-off and a warning sign. Cass knew he would be back. It was simply a matter of time until he returned.
            People like Garrett Ramsey were too evil to die.
            She glanced into the bathroom vanity, dabbing concealer on the dark circles underneath her green eyes. Her pale skin shone a ghostly white under the harsh fluorescent bulbs. She smiled at her reflection, the action automatic, but not reaching her eyes.
            Sitting on the edge of her unmade bed, Cassandra Sidell slipped her petite feet into a pair of lethal stiletto heels. Her best weapons were a pair of heels. Even a two-inch pump could slow down an attacker. She stood up, pulling down the hem of her high-waisted grey skirt.
            With her nametag pinned to her blouse, she picked up her small purse and a keycard. Her brunette curls fell down her shoulders, standing out against the cream-colored fabric as she exited the hotel room.
            The carpeted hallway dulled the sound of her heels as she strode to the elevator. Her body portrayed a confidence she did not feel. Inside, her body trembled, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers of the luxurious bed over her head.
            Cassandra had already hid in her apartment for a week. By the end of that first week, she jumped at the persistent ring of the telephone or the chime of a clock. There were too many memories crammed into the one-bedroom apartment.
            She ended her lease the following day.
            While she finalized the paperwork on her townhouse, she decided to take advantage of her work’s discounts and book a room. Plus, one couldn’t beat the commute.
            The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, as the doors slide open.
            Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the metal box, rocketing downstairs to start a new day. Another step forward. Another morning alive.
            And, hopefully, another day without Ramsey.

Fired

            The stony-faced committee of gentlemen before him wasn’t pleased with either his lateness or his current job performance. Even with his unparalleled success record, failure was not to be tolerated. Not at this level. Never before had a civilian destroyed a high-profile job.
            Not just any civilian – a twenty-something hotel employee. A female employee.
            All he’d needed from her was a keycard and cell phone. He got both, but during the return swap, she’d snagged his phone – not her own. It was a disposable phone – Garrett wasn’t stupid – but a single incriminating text was all it took for her to leap into action.
            Cassandra Sidell unwove his careful plan. Instead of his target waiting in the hotel room, it’d been her. And she beat the shit out of him.
            “Effective immediately, you’re fired, Ramsey. And thanks to your spectacular fuck-up, a long-time client left the firm. We hired you to handle delicate situations, not cause them. We have no choice but to withdraw our protection.”
            Garrett frowned. “Withdraw? What are you saying?”
            “The client is well aware of your identity. Should they decide to seek revenge, that’s their prerogative. As it is, they have put out an alert on that girl.”
            “A hit, you mean,” he corrected, his tone clipped.
            The chairman didn’t appear to notice. “You cost us upward of four million dollars in commissions alone. Not to mention having to clean up your mess. Making you disappear was not cheap.”
            “Sir, if you give me another chance—“
            “This is not up for discussion, Ramsey. The board voted. You are a liability to us, not an asset. You’re fired.”


And the games begin...

            Groggy, her mind full of cotton, she stepped into the bathroom. She ducked her head under the faucet. Ice cold water ran down the back of her neck, setting her nerve endings on fire.
            Cassandra blew her bangs out of her eyes, standing up. She faced herself in the mirror, dark-circled eyes and all, only to find her image obscured.
            Blood red lipstick covered the glass. I MAY HAVE TO STEAL YOU it screamed in bold writing. It was a man’s handwriting – all angles and straight strokes. No curves or silly dots. Plain and to the point.
            Just like the man responsible for the garish graffiti.
            Garrett Ramsey. He’d been in her room for sure this time.
            Except, there was a line through STEAL. Above it, he’d scrawled KILL. I MAY HAVE TO KILL YOU.
            She shivered, chills moving through her body.
            Her worst nightmares were about to come true and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Ramsey had the run of the hotel. He’d backed her into a corner and knew it. He was toying her, like a cat with a mouse.


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