Chasing Destiny – The Donovan Legacy, Book 2

As I’m currently working through edits — CHASING DESTINY — and always on the look-out for snippets to share during release, here are a few that caught my Tuesday morning muse.

My favorites for the day . . .


Garrick glanced toward the unopened bottle and glasses. She seemed far too at home, too at ease in his house. How long had this lovely stranger been living here—alone—with his father? “Enough of the cat and mouse game. Who are you?”

Some strange woman, with endless mahogany eyes, was making herself quite comfortable. He would have his answer, and now. Sultry voice and cooking skills included, she could be a dangerous distraction for any guy, and certainly for an older man who happened to be worth a large chunk of money.

“Your daddy warned me that you were the difficult type.” There was strain in her face now, the smile not quite as bright, the eyes more reserved. “Pit bull persistent with a touch of cynicism thrown in for good measure. Looks like he was right on both counts.”

“If you have nothing to hide, then there’s no reason not to tell me.”

A tiny worry frown creased her brow. Laying the plates on the table’s edge, she resettled the ball cap and studied Garrick for several minutes. “I’m the graphic designer who’s going to save your GQ fanny on the capitol’s restoration campaign.” She looked pointedly at the bottle. “Now, are you going to open the wine?”


Hot Texas summer storms marched across open prairie with less impact than an angry Garrick Shapiro.

The man quit the kitchen with a pivot turn that would do the military proud, only to return a short time later in his casual attire.

Without a word, he left the house and headed across the wide lawn.

Jaycee had known better than to follow.

If she learned anything with four brothers, it was that men needed their thinking space.

And God help the woman who infringed when their poor little brains needed room to expand.


“Does this mean,” Garrick patted the sagging office couch, apparently intending to ignore her sarcasm, “that you’ve decided I’m too difficult to live with?”

Jaycee rested against her desk and clarified, “I wasn’t living with you.”

“So, is that a yes or no to the difficult part?”

“Who are you?” Abandoning her casual lean, she rolled up to her knees on the office carpet and squared off with him. His eyes twinkled, and she’d bet her last Oreo he was funning her. “You’re certainly not the same guy who came home from London.”

“Jet lag. I get a little…”

“Cranky?” she finished.



He quirked an eyebrow at her, but answered, “Perhaps.”

“How about down-right scorpion-stinging, cactus-poking ornery?”

“You made your point.” He offered an olive branch. “Truce.”

Jaycee considered the tapered, but not pampered, extended hand. She was lousy at staying mad. It simply took too much energy, and at the moment she was desperately short of energy. Shrugging, she placed her palm against his then sucked in a fast breath when his fingers tightened, enclosing her in warmth.

Unfortunately, it’s time to return to my other job . . . the one that pays most of the bills . . . so I must leave Jaycee & Garrick for later in the day.
But rest assured, they’ll be jelling in my mind.

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