Remember Jane? She’s been given the power of writing stories – fables, she calls them – that come true. You’d think she’d go straight to writing her own happy ending. But of course, like any magical power, Jane’s storytelling isn’t that simple. She can’t control when or how the fables come true, or who they affect. In the first excerpt, we eavesdropped as Jane tried to tell her first love, Charlie, about a new character who appeared in her stories: a lanky man searching for paradise with only his knapsack and an old ukulele. In this excerpt, we get a glimpse of the romance Jane craves – but is the chance at a new love with Sam for real, or will Jane wake up alone again?

“Once upon a time could ruin Jane’s life, or lead her to a happy ending she never expected.”

Excerpt (PG-13):

Two hours later Jane looked up. Sam still sat in the chair behind her, watching her carefully.

“So?” he said, when she made eye contact.

“Oh, Sam.” He slid his chair next to hers and wrapped his arms around her as she cried. He tipped her head into the nook between his left shoulder and his neck. He put his hand on the side of her head to hold it there, and wrapped her in the warmth of his body. Her sobs increased, then ebbed, then she seemed to let something go. She turned her face up to his. “Oh, Christ, Sam. I need a beer.”

“No, you don’t, Jane.” He tightened his hold on her, without making her feel caught or constricted. “No, you don’t need a beer. I think we both know what you need.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead. “God, you are lovely, Jane.”

She laughed. “Right, eyes red, nose full of snot from crying. Right, Sam. Lovely, that’s me.”

“Yes, you, Jane. Lovely.” Sam leaned down and kissed her gently. Then he stood and took her hand, and helped her stand too. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

“Sam, I wrote””” Jane began.

“I know what you wrote. I read it before you came to, or whatever you call it. Now come upstairs with me.”

Jane’s head buzzed and her stomach held more flutters than the butterfly exhibit at the zoo. “I don’t know.”

Sam kissed her again, harder. “Yes, you do. Jane, you need love right now, and I want to be the one to give it to you. Because I do love you, you know. I have since the first day at the ashram. You are lovely, and you have no clue about it. You have this, gift, I guess you’d call it, that completely rules your life, because you let it, because you’re afraid of using it but also afraid if you lose it you’ll somehow wind up alone forever. Well, your gift is part of what makes you you, Jane, and that makes you lovely. I don’t understand it, but I know it’s not evil or bad. I know it’s good. I know it’s good because you are good, and it’s a part of you. Now I want to be a part of you. I want to make love to you and help you understand the essential goodness of who you are, Jane. So come upstairs.”

Jane’s knees seemed to melt and disappear, and she wished they wouldn’t, because she would find it very hard to run away from this invitation without knees.

“And,” Sam pulled her closer to him as his face broke into a wide smile, “damn but it’s been a long time since I’ve had a good roll in the hay. Take pity on me and come upstairs, Jane.”

She laughed again, and suddenly her knees were solid enough to support her, but she didn’t want to run away. Far from it. She grabbed his hand and headed for the stairs. “Before they all get back, Sam, get a move on.”

They didn’t have to turn on the light in Molly’s familiar guest room. Sam had stayed there once or twice on his visits to town, and Jane had slept there once or twice when she was too drunk to make even the short walk back to her apartment.

Later, Jane would remember the way Sam kissed her, warm and friendly and hungry all at once, somehow. She would think about his touch, the strength of his arms and the gentleness of his fingers. She would recall how he carefully undressed her first, then himself, then helped ease her onto the big bed, pulling the wool blanket over them both against the chill growing in the stormy nightfall. Sometimes she’d forget the next bit, because he eased her so well and so completely out of her head and into her body. He didn’t say much, only a word now and then, and her own voice became low and soft in response. She panicked once, she remembered, because something suddenly brought her back into her head.

“Why, Sam?” she asked. “Why do you want to make love to me?”

“I told you, Jane. I want you to feel this, for now, at least.”

“You’re not trying to make me fall in love with you? I mean, I love you Sam, like you said, but my soul mate is ““ “

“I know, and I’m not trying to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I want to make sure you know you’re not alone, that you’re connected to someone. And I want to feel connected to you, Jane.” She relaxed again, and felt the bed against her back, supporting her, the pillow under her head, soft and smelling like peppermint, for some reason, and the slightly rough wool of the blanket tucked under her left shoulder. She didn’t have to say or ask anything more, as she gave herself to the sensations. Sam’s cheek against hers, his breath on her neck. His hands as they circled and cupped first one breast, then the other. His tongue that followed. Her hands as they moved down his strong back and up around his shoulders and back down. The warmth of his skin wherever it touched hers…. The warmth, above all, the warmth, as they moved together, slower, faster, slower, then the final shudders, first hers, then his, and more warmth, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

~*~

You, Jane, from BURST Books, is available on Amazon, All Romance E-books, and other e-book retailers starting today! You can find more about my writing, including my first novel, An Alien’s Guide to World Domination, and my thoughts on friendship, baseball, music, and love at my author blog, Point No Point.