Sourcebooks Casablanca Romance Authors

“Condition?” I squeaked. Calvin nodded. “Dinner at the restaurant of my choice.” There was too much going on. Candy’s shrill voice in the background as she shrieked for her lawyer while the Feds are telling her the shyster was in custody. Then there’s all these hunky guys in law enforcement that had me visualizing handcuffs and strip searches. And Calvin. Calvin who didn’t look all that much like the nerd I remembered. I made the mistake of looking across the room. My mother looked as if she’d died and gone to heaven and for all I know, already planning the wedding. I hoped I could stop her before she latched on to Ramona Hayward, our local wedding planner and town gossip who could put the Internet to shame. Still, my all time favorite sight was seeing Candy hauled away in handcuffs. No designer wear for where she was going and gee, what a shame, she looks horrible in orange and jumpsuits will only make her look hippy. Yep, a very good day. “Hey.” I looked up, responding to Calvin’s sm...

Mom beamed. I tried to ignore it. After all, the woman had been trying to get me to take a look at Calvin for years. It’s so annoying when she’s right. And wow, I had to admit, was she ever. Calvin didn’t even wait to hear if there were any other bids, just swept toward me wearing that sexy feline grin I was sure I could get used to seeing on a regular basis. The tattered remnants of the wildest bachelor auction in our little town’s history staggered to make way for him. The quarterback was walking with a definite limp, I noticed, and the knight, finally giving up on his malfunctioning costume, tore his helmet off and hurled it away from him with a frustrated growl. Not bad , I decided, taking in the flowing blond locks that tumbled over his shoulders. But he’s no Calvin . Who would have thought, before today, that I’d be thinking that with a racing pulse and butterflies in my stomach? Calvin strode to me, stopping only inches away. I barely heard the delighted squeals of the c...

posted by Aunty Cindy aka Loucinda McGary Agent Smith extended his hand to David. “You can go back to your regular duties with the Texas state police, Officer Delany. But rest assured that your undercover work in helping us with this case will be duly noted.” He shook David’s hand and then Speedy’s. “As will yours, Officer Gonzalez. We’d have never cracked this case without your assistance." “But do we still get to be part of the auction?” Speedy asked, waggling his dark brows in Lauri Gruber’s direction. “We’re on duty, Speed,” David admonished, but with an unmistakably apologetic look in my direction. “You’re always such a killjoy, D.D.” Speedy grumbled. “But at least I got to dress like a NASCAR driver. This undercover work is cool!” “About the four thousand dollars?” the mayor ventured again. “Sorry sir,” said one of the other agents, whom I realized was dressed as a policeman and had intervened in the fight moments earlier. “But all Mrs. Martinelli’s assets are temporarily f...

Bidding volleyed between me and other hopefuls until we had upped David’s value to five hundred dollars, and I wondered how quickly I could transfer my savings into my checking account. Then Candy’s cry pierced the air. “Four thousand dollars!” The room hushed in combined reverence and horror. Lauri Gruber at last said, “God, Candy, that’s not fair!” “Is this an auction or not?” snapped Candy. The mayor’s face was alight. Four thousand was a more than the past year’s auction had raised altogether. I closed my eyes in middle-class income misery as the mayor declared, “David Delany, going once, twice, SOLD! For four thousand dollars!” Candy pointed a deadly fingernail at the rather pale carpenter on stage. “You’re mine now!” “I’m afraid not,” said a new bachelor, stepping lithely from behind the line of disheveled and doubled-over fantasy men. He pulled a badge from the inner pocket of his austere suit. “Agent Smith, FBI. Mrs. Martinelli, I’m taking you into custody.” FBI-Agent had not w...

From his place on the floor, the quarterback raised a long, muscled leg and caught Speedy right where he lived. With a howl of righteous indignation, Speedy clutched his, um, junk, and dropped to his knees. Infuriated by the quarterback's audacity, the Highlander got into a screaming fight with the pirate, who took the quarterback's side. The ensuing rumble sucked in everyone except for David Delany, who deftly sidestepped Calvin Seersucker as he jumped into the fray. The auctioneer banged his gavel on the dais while the audience of stunned women watched the brawl with fascination and, in the case of Candy, titillation. The public safety bachelors, policeman and fireman, blew whistles that caught the attention of the fools on the floor. "Enough already," policeman said. Behind me, I heard someone whisper, "Oh, I want him...." It took a few minutes, but the public safety bachelors managed to restore some semblance of order. The Highlander's fur-covered sp...

The mayor explained the bidding rules, while behind him, the bachelors struck manly poses to match their costumes. Regency David swept a bow, and Captain Jack, the dentist, braced his legs wide on his imaginary deck. David the Carpenter Guy hooked thumbs over his tool belt, an action which—not accidentally—made the wide leather perfectly frame his...uhm,hardware. Next, the knight drew his heavy broadsword, intending, I think, to pose with it in his mailed fist. But without warning, the nose-guard-thing on his helmet slammed down, blocking his peripheral vision. Carpenter David diagnosed the helmet’s loose screw and triumphantly whipped out a screwdriver. The crowd roared and clapped. Hearing applause, Calvin thought it was his turn. He extended his fingers in the Vulcan “Live long and prosper” greeting, then remembered his ears and eyebrows were gone. Nobody could say Calvin wasn’t flexible. He switched to his Zorro alter-ego, drew his sword and slashed a Z into the air. Beside him, t...

Between me and my highlander lay two round tables full of drooling women. Oh, for super powers. A single bound would come in handy about now. I tripped over a mailed foot—mailed foot? I double-took the knight kneeling at the feet of a seated Gladys Bellyard, big and beautiful, a gorgeous red sequined top clinging to her ample endowments. The blue-eyed, blond-haired, knight could not keep his gaze from her magnificent cleavage as she removed her chiffon scarf and tied it to his...ummm lance. Orlando Bloom did bachelor auctions? Who knew? “Excuse me,” I said, one eye on my Highlander. Oh no, boob-girl, Candy, was also making a bee-line for him, her hand still firmly on David’s tool-belt as she dragged him along. “My lady,” knight-dude said glancing up. “I doth impede your progress.” He smiled and clanked to his feet, his mail-clad shoulders a solid wall of metal at eye level. He gave a courtly bow as I passed. Hot. I was hot. He was hot. Could somebody o...

Rick rested his fingers on my arm and leaned in, his lips barely touching my ear as he whispered, “Bid for me and I’ll sail you far away from all this.” He winked and shivers of expectation stole up my spine. I could just envision sailing in the Gulf with Rick, minus the dreadlocks, making a stop at South Padre Island, wading in the pristine water while colorful fish darted around our legs, where cottony sand beaches awaited us and then…then…I saw him— Be still my heart, ‘twas none other than Robert McCrory decked out in a blue and green belted plaid kilt, renaissance-looking soft leather boots, and no shirt, wicked man. Only a sash draped across his bronzed, muscular torso, hiding a wee bit o’ his well-sculpted chest. And a gold bracer caressed his bicep, like I wanted to do. Just to see if he was really as strong as he appeared to be. His green eyes captured mine, held me hostage, and challenged me to join him. “Uhm, Rick, I’ll be right back.” Maybe. The gold bracer alone that Robert...

Gulp! Breathe, just breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I spun around with a big smile on my lips. At least, I think I was smiling and not looking like the idiot I was feeling like more and more. “Rick!” I thought I’d seen pretty much every fantasy in the ballroom until now. OMG! It was Captain Jack Sparrow without the lack of personal and dental hygiene. Oh no, this one smelled like Old Spice, and when you think about it, it fit. Rick’s surfer blond hair was covered with the black dreads and tri-cornered hat and he even sported the black eye liner, which actually looked very sexy on him. YUM! “Look at you!” And believe me, I did. Even under the heavy clothing you could see what looked like a long and lean runner’s body. He looked a bit embarrassed. “Your mother.” I nodded as I wondered how she managed to persuade, or blackmail, the town dentist into dressing up as Johnny Depp although at the moment I was doing a Johnny who? shuffle. “’Nuff said. You look like the real deal.” My fingers were al...

Oh my God, I did not just say that…I did not just THINK that… Calvin, not seeming to notice my inner turmoil, just frowned down at me, obviously intrigued. “Really? What’s wrong with the eyebrows?” “They look like caterpillars about to mate,” I sighed, and when he looked more affronted than receptive, I took matters into my own hands. “Here,” I said. “If you just did this…” I reached up and pulled off the offending brows as easily as I might have ripped off a couple of band-aids. Fortunately, most of his actual eyebrow hair stayed in place, a miracle with the amount of glue he’d used. I stepped back and surveyed my handiwork. And despite the bleeding, which really wasn’t very bad, I was even more pleasantly surprised at what I saw. Calvin Seersucker, beneath the layers of costumed geekiness, was definitely not an ugly duckling anymore. “Now for the ears and cape,” I said, ignoring the mulish expression he gave me in return. “Come on. Hand them over. You can’t be a Vulcan Zorro starship...

My ire turned to horror when Candy fixed her predatory gaze in my direction. Her voice echoed off the ballroom’s high ceiling. “David, look who came home! We haven’t seen you in years!” I could hardly refuse her beckoning claw. Everyone was watching. I rose, painfully aware that my clothes were wrinkled from travel, and that I had just fallen out of my car, with no chance to brush my hair or check my makeup. Was I even wearing makeup? I approached them feigning delight. “Oh, aren’t you a sight?” cried Candy, clutching one of David’s impressively firm-looking biceps as she eyed me. “I admire women with the courage to completely ignore how they look. That takes such confidence! Didn’t I always say I admired her confidence?” The breathtaking David looked apologetic, but I hated the thought that he might say something sympathetic. I plastered a beaming smile on my face. “Isn’t this fun? I never imagined I’d be surrounded by romantic heroes.” “Makes me want to be a damsel in dist...

But just when I thought I couldn’t get any sicker, I heard an unmistakable giggle that grated on every last nerve ending in my body. I watched in horror filled fascination along with everyone else, as a woman with Texas-big platinum blonde hair and even bigger, if phony, tatas strolled to the front of the room. My adolescent nemesis, Candy Froedisher Martinelli. We had been friends in junior high school, but when we got to high school, suddenly Candy was Miss Popularity, head cheerleader, homecoming queen, the works, while I remained behind in my somewhat nerdy corner. Bad enough that I was often the object of her giggling, whispered innuendoes, but her ultimate betrayal came when she lured David Delany- - my David - -away to be her date for the Senior prom. While the rest of us had gone off to college and studied things like journalism or criminal justice, Candy had gone to Miami Beach to major in Trophy Wife 101. Her first husband, or so I’d heard, was a minor Mafia enforcer. Freddi...

I choked back the urge to throw up in my mouth, muttered “Slow down, Speedy,” and took a seat next to my mother. Pretending to be absorbed in the program, I watched “Speedy” practice his hair over-the-eyes, low-voiced “buy me” spiel with a couple of other twittering fools who would no doubt duke it out over him in the auction. In need of something to do so I wouldn’t be tempted to watch Speedy work the room, I buried my nose in the program. The Navy guy was kind of cute as was the football dude. I flipped to the next page, and my heart literally staggered in my chest. Carpenter guy—oh my God! David Delany, my mad high school crush, the one who had occupied every single one of my schoolgirl fantasies, the one I had given myself to in the back of his father’s Dodge junior year, my first—and only—love... “Mother.” Apparently startled by the rough tone of my voice, she turned. “What? Why are you pale and pasty all of a sudden?” “David Delany?” I croaked. All innocence, she said, “Oh, did ...

Mother popped up behind the counter. Her newly frizzed gray hair, fire-engine-red lipstick and a waft of lavender proclaimed she was “going out.” “Late as usual,” she muttered trotting around the cash desk. She grabbed my arm with red talons and hauled me toward the back exit, the entrance to the Prairie Dog hotel. The site of the auction. “I’m not going.” I dragged my feet. “I did the flowers,” she said. “I need your help.” There was that long e sound. Like the sound of a baby crying for its mother. It hit me in the gut. She turned the knob of the baize lined door and pulled me into the burgundy plush of the hotel ballroom lobby. At the door, broad shoulders filling out his pearl-gray waistcoat and black jacket stood Mr. Darcy, back from the past. He beckoned. Blinded by his white ruffled shirt and cravat, I blinked, then couldn't resist a long slow look at a pair of superb thighs encased tight buckskin breeches which ended in a pair of shiny Hessians. “What?” I croaked. "Who...

*Photo's tag: The lads before the carnage. This is actually a photo of a group of men who participated in a live male auction--so get ready to bid... The Bachelor Auction by the Casablanca Authors Excited about returning home to Granbury, Texas, I couldn’t wait to get settled until I saw the notices posted all over the historic town. Bachelor Auction. Inwardly, I groaned. It was supposed to have been last Saturday, not this Saturday! That’s why I had waited another week before coming home. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear Mom had influenced the City Council to change the date to make sure I was home for the summer event. Shielded by the sun, I hurried under the striped awnings to Mother’s gift store, the old time shops all connected by wooden walkways. Summer fashions and pansy garden gifts decorated the storefront windows and I could hardly wait to share my marketing experiences from classes I’d taken at the university. As soon as I stepped out of the heat into the sh...