I Love Dialogue from My Lifeguard

Drew Carlson is a lifeguard with a terrible love life. Every woman he's ever dated has ended up married to one of his friends instead. Then he meets Magda Yarkowsky, a Georgian from Georgia (The country near Russia and a state just to the north of Florida) His life changes from somewhat routine to far more exciting. On their first date, Drew takes Magda to dinner at a comedy club.

The lights dimmed and the owner of the club stepped onto the small stage to introduce the first act. The comedian took the stage and started talking. He was moderately funny, but Magda didn't really even crack a smile after the first few minutes. As they were sitting right by the stage, her silence was fairly obvious and it was making the comedian nervous, throwing off his timing.

"Hey, lady, do you have a problem with me?" He stepped forward, pointing at Magda. His New Jersey accent wasn't entirely for his act. "I'm working hard up here."

"My English is not so good. I not understand you."

Drew wanted to laugh at the exchange, but the set of Magda's shoulders told him not to.

"This your boyfriend?"

"This is only our first date—well, unless you count yesterday. Can we count that?" Drew asked Magda. "You know, at the beach?"

"Oh, no we can't count that. I was unconscious most of the time."

There was scattered laughter.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Magda," she enunciated clearly.

"And your date?"

"Drew."

"You're a big, jacked guy. What you do for a living, Drew?"

"I'm—um—a lifeguard."

"You had to think about that? How hard is it to say lifeguard? Duh! So, are the chicks all built like Baywatch babes?"

"Most of the guards on this beach are built more like me."

"Shit, that's some ugly women!"

"He means they're guys, moron," another customer heckled.

"I knew dat—," the comedian said loudly. "So, Drew, the um—lifeguard. How'd you meet?"

"I rescued her."

"Huh? I would have loved to see that. Blond Bomber going after Russian Red. Must have been a sight to see. Where you from, um—Lifeguard?"

"Grew up around here, Funny Boy. You?"

"Jersey." He held his arms out waiting for the cheers. There weren't any. "You know what we call folks from Florida up in Jersey? Crackers. Bam!" He said it like it was the worst insult in the world.

A huge man who'd been on the football team in high school, stood up nearly knocking over his table. "You know what we Crackers call you folks from Jersey?"

The comedian looked rather intimidated. "Uh—uh—."

"Lunch!" He came at the stage like The Terminator.

The comedian dropped the microphone with an electronic squeal and ran from the stage toward the accordion doors separating them from the restaurant. The Terminator didn't change direction. He went to the stage, picked up the microphone, pointing to the comedian who had finally opened the doors. Watching his retreating back, he held out his hand.

"Let's hear a round of applause for our entertainment for this evening."

Everyone clapped and cheered for him instead of the comedian. Eating up the attention, he held the stage a few minutes, talking to them. He made Drew come up and introduce himself. Talking like a reporter, he held the microphone between them.

"Mr. Carlson," he began.

"Mr. Simmons."

They nodded in unison setting the room laughing when they did a knuckle bump.

"You said a few minutes ago that you rescued this lovely, seductive, Russian beauty from the ocean?"

"Actually, she's Georgian."

"She's from Georgia?" His voice rose to an irreverent squawk as he pointed north.

"Not the state to the north. The one near Russia."

"Ooh, dat Georgia. Gotcha. Tell us the tale. Inquiring minds wanna know. And we got inquiring minds."

The audience cheered, clapped and stomped their feet. Drew blushed slightly, taking the proffered microphone.

"Hi, y'all. Not much to tell, really. I was at work yesterday and saw something in the water. I called for backup, jumped in and found Magda there with a head wound. I pulled her to the boat and she's fine." He shrugged. He'd never been much for speaking in public, preferring not to draw attention to himself.

"That was terrible," Trey Simmons shoved him lightly, nearly knocking him over.

"I agree." Magda rose gracefully from her seat. "I tell it."

Trey helped her on the stage, handing her the microphone as he stepped back. Drew, unsure of himself, tried to do the same. Magda grabbed him by the shirt, dragging him back beside her.

"Is good story. I tell. Yesterday is still a bit fuzzy." She gestured languidly. "I am knocked in the head. Was not his fault." She pointed at Drew. "I was diving and was hit on head here." She showed the stitches. The room exploded in stifled gasps.

"Is fine, no longer hurts. But in these waters, bleeding? I had moments only. I find myself on surface, floating, dizzy, in pain. I was too weak to call for help and fell unconscious. Suddenly, I feel strong arms around me, and this comforting voice say, Are you alright? I am unable to answer. The arms go around me so." She demonstrated the hold on Drew, her arms barely going around his chest. "Only his arms are longer and I am not so big and strong."

Magda felt his muscles through the lightweight shirt. Liking what she found, she ran her hands over his upper body, dropping her fingers lower with each pass. Drew was in agony. Her long fingers left tiny trails of sparks in their wake. Her hand moved to his shoulder, going down his back with lingering slowness, dropping to his ass, which she grabbed. The women in the room went wild, stomping and cheering. They stood at their tables, swinging their napkins as they hooted and danced.

"Yes, most delicious. Unfortunately, I was like this." She demonstrated by putting his arms around her, letting her head loll to the side. "They take me on boat and I am not breathing. This the man in ambulance tell me. And Drew brought me back to life! He is miracle man, no? He is not just gorgeous body with beautiful eyes and hair...."

She licked her lips, eyes stripping him naked as they raked him up and down. She inhaled slowly, exhaling in a low, moaning gasp. "Is magnificent!" She walked to the front of the stage, talking to the women in a stage whisper. "And girls, is not a hammer in his pocket!" She winked expansively, making thrusting motions with her hips.

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

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Undiscovered - Excerpt Chapter 11

Martha, Cadence's mother, is one of my favorite characters. She has a short part, but she's got some great dialogue. She's a good woman with a kind heart, who is concerned about her daughter's happiness.

On their way to the mysterious safe location, Cadence and Scott stop at her mother's house to drop off the cat. Martha, is cooking butter beans. The temptation is too much for a Southern boy like Scott. She invites him to have some while they talk.

Cadence served him a plate of collard greens and butter beans. He thanked her with a contented grin. "My mama fixes these, but I never get any. I don't see her too often."

"For shame on you. My Caydee's a good cook. She fixed you anything?"

"We had lasagna a couple nights ago," he replied. "It was delicious."

"So, how long you two been dating?"

"Couple months," Cadence replied quickly. "Sorry I haven't told you about it."

"Sweetie, after that last man, I don't blame you for playing it close. And look what happened to Sammie when she brought that man of hers around?"

"He married her sister," Cadence filled in the blank.

"What a toad," Scott replied, his mouth full.

"Some men got no sense a'tall," Martha replied as she loaded bread pans with dough. "At least she hadn't bedded the critter yet."

"I'd have to shoot the fucker in the foot," Scott replied. He gulped, blushing. "Sorry."

"Sugar, I was married to a Marine. And I've got a son and a passel of nephews."

"Seventeen, isn't it?"

"Yep. Hell of a lot of nuisance they are too. But good men to have in a pinch. You got any brothers?"

"Just sisters. They could use a good man, maybe we can introduce 'em to your nephews."

She laughed loudly, washing her hands. "Well, I can't say they're the best men around, but they do know how to treat a lady. They got their gentleman manners, just if they decide to use them."

"That's true of all of us, Miss Martha. It's the nature of the man-beast."

"Yeah, men. Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em."

"Oh, come on. We're good for something besides opening jars."

"Opening jars and making babies. That's about it." She poured them each a tall glass of tea and sat down. "So, you taking care of my daughter in that department?"

Scott nearly spewed his drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You'd have to ask your daughter about that."

"We haven't progressed to that yet, Mama."

"That's the purpose of this long weekend? See if you're compatible?"

"Yeah. Something like that," Scott said diplomatically. "I promise to do my best. I won't ever hurt her on purpose, you have my word on that."

"Your word better be worthwhile. Lots of men, their word's not shit."

"Mama, he's a policeman."

"Makes no difference, baby girl. Men are men. They get that blood flowing south and they lose all sense."

"Martha," he said quietly, setting down his glass. "I know Cadence has a whole line of hurt behind her. Fact is, ma'am, so do I. Got my heart trampled so many times, I'd about given up on ever finding a good woman. But I think I found one now. So you can be sure I'm gonna treat her right. Lord knows, I'm gonna try my best. That's a firm and solid promise."

Martha held his gaze a long time, staring deep into his eyes. She finally nodded, decision in her face. "I believe you. I think the two of you found the one person who's not gonna stomp all over 'em. You take care of my baby girl, I'll fix you collards and beans anytime you like."

"That's a deal," he said, holding out his hand. "Cadence, your mom approves. Reckon you got to marry me now." He winked.

Cadence giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. "Guess I do."

© 2015 Dellani Oakes

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Undiscovered - Excerpt from Chapter 4

It occurs to Cadence that not only did she get a pretty good look at the man as he ran away from the scene, but he got an extremely good look at her. It wouldn't be hard, for someone who was motivated, to discover that she lived on the floor above the crime scene. Deeply concerned, she calls Detective Scott asking for someone to watch over her. Realizing that he's dropped the ball on protecting his witness, Scott agrees to spend the night on her couch, promising to find a more permanent solution the next morning.

They stopped by the guest bath on the second floor. "This is it. I'm sorry I don't have a bed in the guest room. Right now, it's the music room." Cadence opened the door.

Scott was greeted by wall to wall instruments. She had an electric drum set, guitars—electric and acoustic, a flute, an oboe, a trumpet and a baby grand.

"How did you get that up here?" He pointed to the piano.

"Seventeen male cousins all built like you," she replied.

Scott laughed loudly. "I can picture it. Crazy!"

"You hungry? I have some leftover lasagna I made the other night."

"Starving. That sounds amazing."

"Get your shower. I'll heat some up. I ate, but I'm hungry again. Oh, you aren't allergic to cats, are you?"

"No. My mom has some. I love cats."

"Oh, good. Porthos is hiding at the moment, but he'll be out to investigate you later. He's a feline detective. You guys should bond."

Scott chuckled, liking the irony of the cat investigating the cop.

"See you downstairs." Cadence smiled, turning away as he closed the bathroom door.

Her fragrance lingered in the air. Inhaling deeply, he had the same warming sensation. Fighting it, he shed his clothing and stuffed it in a plastic bag he'd brought with him. The water was hot and felt good on his aching muscles. He realized too late that he'd gotten a sunburn while on the beach. Not a bad one, but it stung when the hot water hit him. A little aloe lotion he found on the counter, after his shower, did the trick.

He pulled on his baggies and dug around looking for a T-shirt. Tossing that over his shoulder, he padded barefoot down the carpeted steps to the living room. He dropped his bag by the couch and followed his nose to the kitchen.

Cadence jumped, stifling a scream, when he appeared at the doorway. "Oh! You startled me!"

"I'm sorry. Years of training to move quietly. I apologize, Cadence."

She stood in the kitchen, a plate of lasagna on the floor. Porthos rapidly devoured it as she cried, her body trembling. Scott wasn't sure what to do first, but instinct kicked in. He didn't want a sick cat on top of her panic. Whisking the plate off the floor, he picked up the cat one handed, tossing him gently in the other room. He covered the mess with paper towels, dropping the ruined food into the trash. That accomplished, he put his arms around Cadence, enfolding her gently. Although a stranger, he was a comforting, reassuring male presence and something she badly needed.

"I'm so sorry I scared you," he whispered, stroking her hair. "Forgive me. I'm so sorry."

The hairs on his chest tickled her face making it tingle pleasantly. Her tears waned to a trickle and she pulled away, wiping her face with her fingers. Scott grabbed a paper towel, handing it to her. Nodding her thanks, Cadence wiped her face and blew her nose.

"I'm so sorry. I'm used to being alone," she said with a sniffle.

"No, it's okay. I am too."

Porthos was back, licking the spatters on the tile.

"No! Bad cat!" She snatched him up, holding him to her face as she shivered again.

"I'll get it. He didn't eat too much. He should be okay. Hey, Porthos. You'll puke out a lung if you eat too much tomato. Silly kitty." He stroked the cat's head, earning a purr and a swipe of one velvety paw. "Good looking cat. Calico?"

"He's a mutt. A stray I found in the woods. His mother was poisoned. I found the babies and bottle fed them until they were old enough to give away. He almost didn't make it. I couldn't give him up."

© 2015 Dellani Oakes

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Undiscovered - Excerpt Chapter 10

Cadence is happily ensconced at the police station with Scott and another officer, Van Driscole. She and Van are going through the photographs taken on the beach the day Connor Griswald was shot. They hope to find a picture of the shooter. They are more successful than they could have hoped, discovering a very good photograph of the shooter among the many.

Scott can see that Driscole is already interested in Cadence. It's hard to be around her and not be attracted. He can't help being a little jealous of the time that she's spending with another man. However, it isn't that which prompts him to speak to them about how closely they are sitting.

Scott stopped by Driscole's desk before heading to his own. "I've got a mile of paperwork," he said to Van and Cadence. "You'll be okay with Van a little longer?"

"Yeah, we're good. She's helping me."

"It's fun. I'm fine. We're keeping busy." She leaned on Van's shoulder, head mere inches from his.

Van tipped his head, ear brushing her nose. Scott was jealous of the intimate gesture, but shoved that aside. He cleared his throat and they looked up at him.

"You did great today," he complimented. "Van, excellent job, dude. I wouldn't have gotten through this much so fast."

"Cadence is a huge help. She's got a quick eye."

"Thank you," Scott directed at her. "You've been more help than any witness I've ever had. I appreciate the hard work. If you two can find me a closer shot of the shooter. . . . I'll figure out something. I'm outta bribes." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking nervous.

What's with these guys and their confidence? One second, they're oozing it, the next it's gone with the wind. Cadence thought.

Scott leaned over, murmuring. "Might wanna not be quite so close. People will talk. . . ."

"Jealous?" Cadence asked with a smirk.

Scott's face clouded and he looked sad. "Concerned."

Taking his warning, they moved slightly apart. Cadence took her hands off Van's shoulder and leaned on the desk instead. Happily ensconced, they sat at the computer as Driscole slipped the next disk into the machine. Forensics had made copies of the memory cards, now bagged and in the evidence room.

Cadence got up from the desk and padded barefoot over to Scott's, her shoes once more under Driscole's desk. "I'm getting us sodas. Want one?"

"Sure. Whatever you're having."

"We're working our way down the line. We've had Pepsi, Dr. Pepper and Mountain Dew. I think orange Fanta is next."

"Sounds good. Thanks."

She came back a few minutes, setting the can on his desk. He glanced up, busy with his form. Flashing a smile, he thanked her. Cadence perched on the edge of his desk.

"That was nice, what you said to Van."

"It's true." He frowned distractedly at his screen as he typed. "And what I told you is too. You've been a huge help, Cadence."

"Thanks. And thank you for taking care of me."

"Me? I haven't done that much."

"More than you realize. I feel safe with you and Van. Thank you."

His eyes left the screen, meeting hers. "You're very welcome. I'm just doing my job."

She smiled, swallowing hard. "Yeah." A quick smile flickered across her face, leaving sadness in her eyes. "Well, I need to get back to work."

His fingers trapped hers on top of the can for a second. "You know—if I could—it would be more than that, right?"

The smile returned, stronger and warmer. "Yeah."

Scott had so many things he wanted to say and do, but they were in his place of business. He was in no position to make good on any of the promises his eyes held. The fact he felt them, expressed them the only way he could, made a big difference to Cadence. Flashing another smile, she went back to Driscole's desk.

"There you are! I'm dying of thirst!" He took a swig of his drink.

Cadence glanced over her shoulder at Scott and sat back down. "What'd I miss?"

"Ass shots," he replied. "Not that any other day I'd appreciate the hell outta the guy's skill, but we've got work to do."

"He shoot any buff guys?"

"Not a one, sorry. Still got two more after this. Maybe the other guy's gay." He winked at her as she settled on her chair.

Across the room, Scott tried to concentrate on his report, but it was hard. All he could think about was how much time Van was spending with Cadence. It was making him crazy. He had no right to complain, nor could he act on the impulses that coursed through him. The only thing that kept him slightly more sane was knowing that Van couldn't act on his either. He could see his cousin was smitten and he had no one to blame but himself if one of them got his heart broken.

© 2015 Dellani Oakes

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Undiscovered - Excerpt from Chapter 6

Scott decides the best way to protect Cadence is to take her somewhere unexpected. He won't tell her his plans, nor does he share that information with Weinstein. The only hold up is having a place for Cadence to keep her cat, Porthos. She makes a quick call to her mother telling her she's going off for a romantic weekend with a new man.

"Wow, you lie better than I do."

"I didn't exactly lie. The only thing I lied about was how long we've known one another. We're going away for a long weekend and—you are special."

"Cadence," he turned to her, taking her hands once the elevator door closed. "I really like you—more than any other woman I've ever known."

"But? Cause I know there's one hiding in there."

"This can't be a romantic weekend. I'm doing my job."

Her mouth worked and her chin jutted defiantly. "I know that. Just because your mind's in the gutter doesn't mean mine is."

"I wanted to you know. . . ." He stopped talking, letting go of her hands when the doors opened on her floor.

They walked to her apartment, entering quickly. He locked and bolted the door behind them. Before she went upstairs to pack, he took her hands again.

"I wanted you to know—you're very special to me. I know we just met, but. . . . Dammit, I wish I wasn't on assignment. You're beautiful and intelligent and you don't mind my tacky innuendoes. I don't think that I'm the only one attracted here. Am I right?"

She nodded, leaning toward him. "You're right."

He leaned in, wanting desperately to kiss her. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"When this is over, when we've caught these guys—"

She waited, knowing he was struggling with something. She had a feeling she knew what his conflict was. She hadn't missed the longing gazes, the swelling in his pants when she was near—and the kisses.

"When this is over, if you don't take me to bed and make love to me for a week, I'm gonna shoot you in the foot," she said huskily.

He closed his eyes, smiling. "Yes!"

Taking advantage of his eyes being closed, she kissed him. At first, he tried to pull away, but she was persistent. Her arms went around his waist, holding him close. She opened her mouth, inviting him to kiss her deeply. They stood that way a long time, letting the world pass them by. Porthos wrapping around their ankles, mewing, got their attention.

"I shouldn't let you do that," Scott whispered, licking his lips. "It would be so easy to take you to bed. I could lose my job just for the thoughts I'm having."

"I know. I had to have one last kiss before we get all serious."

"You'd better get your things. Do you have a carrier for Porthos?"

"In the laundry room over the drier."

"Okay." He didn't move away from her. Laying his forehead against hers, he held her close. "Okay. This is me. . . going to get the cat. . ." He kissed her again, desperate for her.

© 2015 Dellani Oakes

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Undiscovered Trivia About Dellani Oakes!

How long have you been writing?

I've been making up stories since I could talk. I began as a child telling stories about my imaginary friend, Snowy Green, and our adventures are Rainbow School. I was four – so, way longer than I like to think about.

Which of your main characters is your favorite? Do you have more than one?

I do have more than one favorite character. I'm always in love with my leading man. SIGH

I love Detective Walter Scott (call me Scott). He's a good man who's been burned more than once by the wrong woman. By his own admission, he's as bad at finding a woman as his sisters are at finding a good man. He's intelligent, courageous and dead sexy.

Not to be left out, Teague McMurtry from The Ninja Tattoo. Why? I'm not sure. He's a great guy, takes charge, he's protective and in control. He doesn't treat Vivica like an adornment, but as an equal.

My other favorite is Wil VanLipsig from Lone Wolf and Shakazhan. He's a cold, calculating bastard with a heart of gold underneath. WAY underneath. He's honorable, loyal, reliable and dead sexy.

Where do you find inspiration?

I find inspiration in everything. Sometimes, it's a conversation I hear in passing. Mostly, I just get an idea in my mind and run with it. Inspiration for Undiscovered came from my friend, Mickey Hoffman, who said, “I had the weirdest dream. I was showing a condo and shots rang out.” It blossomed from there.

What kind of music do you listen to when you write?

It's probably easier to tell you what I DON'T listen to: rap, hiphop, pop and twangy country. I have been known to listen to Funky Cold Medina, maybe some Faith Hill and Willie Nelson, but that's my limit. Mostly, I'm listening to Gov't Mule, Joe Bonamassa, The Beatles, Pink Floyd, Santana, Jimi Hendrix, Black Sabbath, Metallica, ZZ Top, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Clapton, Zeppelin, Rammstein, Slash, Guns n Roses. . . .

Name a famous author you've met, nearly met or wish you'd met.

I was fortunate, when in college, to attend lectures given by several famous authors. I met and conversed with Robin Cook – Coma, Richard Brautigan – Trout Fishing in America, Edward Albee – Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf. I also saw Harlan Ellison speak. I didn't get to meet him, though.

What is the weirdest thing a character ever did in a book?

My characters have done some strange things. I think the weirdest that one of them ever did, was the villain in New at Love. She was mad at her ex-husband for dating a new woman (even though, she herself, had cheated on him) So she broke into the new girlfriend's apartment and shaved the cat before taping him (the cat) to the hood of his car. (The cat was okay, though. Don't worry.)

Who really wrote the book, you or your characters?

My characters always write every book. I can't take credit for anything but typing really fast. They do it all, dialogue, action, pacing, story arc – all them, always.

How many books have you started and how many have you finished?

This is such an unfair question. I demand a recount! Oh, wait, that's what you want, isn't it. Umm (counts)

Finished Novels: 62 (Just finished another one last night)

Unfinished novels: (mumble-mumble) 54

Giving me a grand total of (drum roll) 116 novels/ novellas (I didn't include short stories in here. These numbers are mind boggling enough for me.)

I set myself a goal to finish a book a month in 2015. I've finished off 5 so far. One of them was start to finish, the rest were unfinished novels that I finally wound up!

What's the hardest part with writing: the writing of the story or the editing?

The hardest thing for me is finishing – as evidenced by my numbers above. I get a great idea, run with it awhile, then get another great idea, and another. (later, rinse, repeat)

How many books do you have published?

Undiscovered makes book #8! The others are:

Indian Summer - historical

Lone Wolf – futuristic romance

Shakazhan – Lone Wolf #2 futuristic romance

The Maker – Lone Wolf #3 futuristic romance

The Ninja Tattoo – romantic suspense

Under the Western Sky – retro romantic suspense

Conduct Unbecoming – romantic suspense

All my books are available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords

Undiscovered is also available from my fabulous publisher, Tirgearr Publishing

Undiscovered - Excerpt from Chapter 5

Undiscovered is now available for sale! Get your copy now!

The next morning, Cadence and Scott know they have to find a better solution to her protection dilemma. He plans to contact his boss as soon as possible, to get her around the clock surveillance.

"So, what will they do with me?" Cadence asked suddenly.

"As far as protection? No idea. Sometimes we take a witness to a hotel. Other times, we patrol the neighborhood. Different levels of protection depending on circumstances."

She nodded, sniffling as she cleared her plate. "I want to thank you again, Scott. I know you didn't have to do what you did."

"Can't have my star witness scared and alone, can I?" He stood, bringing his things to the sink.

Cadence turned quickly, finding him directly behind her. She hadn't heard him walk up. She was in tears again. Scott put his plate on the counter and took her in his arms. She pressed her face to his shirt, crying softly. He held her close, stroking her hair and murmuring comfortingly in her ear. Not quite sure how it happened, he found himself kissing her. Mouth closed, at first, nothing special about it. Just an average, friendly kiss.

She opened her lips, her tongue diving into his surprised mouth. That was all the encouragement he needed. They stood there for several minutes, consuming one another. She clung to him desperately as he possessed her. His phone ringing broke the moment. Cursing, he looked at it. Nessa. He answered, trying not to sound as pissed off and horny as he was.

"Yeah?"

"What's biting your ass?"

"Never mind. What do you need, Vanessa?"

"You not to take my head off. You busy?"

"A little."

Cadence started away from him. He took her hand, gently, worried she was upset. She pointed to the clock, then the door and he understood she needed to get ready for work.

"I gotta go," he mumbled.

Wide eyed, she nodded. He could tell she was afraid to be left alone.

"I can stay fifteen minutes," he murmured, the phone away from his mouth.

She made rushing motions and ran up the stairs.

"Is someone there with you? Where are you? You're not at your place."

"How would you know that?"

"Cause I'm knocking on your front door with donuts and coffee."

Shit!

"I'm at a friend's place."

"Ooh, new lady friend?"

"Not like that. If you must know, my witness called me last night, terrified because our fourth floor guy saw her even more clearly than she saw him. She's afraid he'll find her."

"Shit!"

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."

"Okay. Give me the location. I'm on my way over."

"Ocean Sun, apartment Five ten."

"Ocean. . . . Oh, my God! Her place is the floor in between? Jesus, Scott. Why didn't you tell me that? I'll be there in ten. Stay tight. Call the station and tell them where you are so the lieutenant won't bust your ass when you get there."

"Good idea. See you in a few."

He concluded his call to the station as Cadence walked down the stairs. She looked incredible he couldn't help staring at her. She wore a short, gauzy black dress covered in rusty orange and lavender butterflies. Her necklace and earrings were teardrop shaped purple stones in antique gold filigree settings. Her sandals made her about three inches taller and clasped around her narrow ankles. Her golden hair was done in a loose chignon, her makeup minimal.

"Oh, teacher, spank me! I've been a bad boy!" he murmured as she got to the bottom step.

Cadence blushed, feeling his scrutiny. No man had ever looked at her that way—like a dying man seeing his first glimpse of heaven.

"If I took your class, I'd fail the whole year," he said as he took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"Why's that?"

"Cause if I failed, I could take you again." It took him a second to realize how that sounded, but decided he didn't care.

Cadence laughed nervously, blushing more as he kissed her hand. His lips moved to hers, kissing her softly, lingeringly. A small sigh escaped her parted lips.

"You look—amazing. . . ."

"Thank you." She gently extracted her hand with an apology. "Sorry. Got to get my things." She pointed to her desk in the corner of the living room.

© 2015 Dellani Oakes

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Undiscovered - Excerpt from Chapter 3

Detectives Walter Scott and Vanessa Weinstein have been called to the scene of a strange crime. Someone shot the younger brother of movie mogul, Kent Griswald. Connor Griswald wasn't killed, but when a man is shot on a public beach, while surrounded by celebrities, there's pressure on the police to produce suspect quickly.

Fortunately, Scott and Vanessa have a witness, Cadence Stewart. She shows condos part time and works as a music teacher at a local college. After finishing up the stacks of paperwork, Scott and Vanessa decide to go out to dinner.

They drove back to the station together. They hit the door and headed to their desks to start the paperwork ball rolling. Long after their shift was supposed to be over, they finally finished. Meeting up at the Lieutenant's office, they decided to go to dinner. They met at the best restaurant on the beach. There was a live band and the place was packed, but Scott could always get in.

"My sister's the manager," he explained as the hostess led them to a table.

"Your usual drink, Scott?"

"Not tonight. I'll have iced tea."

"Not a rum runner or something more interesting?" The hostess probed.

"Thanks, no. Still gotta drive home." He flashed a winning smile.

The hostess sashayed off, swinging her hips. Scott watched her until Nessa nudged him, clearing her throat.

"Friend of yours?"

"Used to be. Okay, still on occasion. A beneficial friend," he clarified.

"Got that. My keen observation sense." She tapped the corner of her right eye.

"We gonna rehash that old dog?"

"Which old dog?"

"That argument where you tell me what a man slut I am? Cause that got old the first sixty times. I don't think I can sit through it again."

"You can do what you want."

"Why didn't you feel like that before?"

"We were dating then."

Walt frowned, pursing his lips. "Cheap shot, Ness."

"And what you're doing isn't?"

"When we were dating did I ever look at another woman? You'd love it if I'd been unfaithful, then you'd be able justify leaving me."

"Here we go," the waitress said cheerfully. "Dinner is served! Can I get you anything else?"

"We're good," Scott said. "Thanks."

She strutted off again and he made a point of watching her just to irk Vanessa.

"How'd you like it if I started ogling some guy while I'm with you?"

"When you can find one better built than me, go ahead."

"Arrogant prick."

"But you liked that arrogant prick, Ness. As I recall, you found it quite satisfying."

"I think we'd better drop this subject too."

"But we're finding out what we have in common, a messed up love life."

They changed the subject to anything but love and crime.

© 2015 Dellani Oakes

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