When Mistaken Identity collides with Secret Identity, who wins?
JACOB HAS COME A LONG WAY FOR AN ORPHANED FOSTER KID. He has a mentor, a great job, and has finally fallen in love. Granted, she mistook him for a stalker when they met, but every relationship has its little problems. Unfortunately, for the past few years, as the object of his affection pops in and out of his life, she has refused to share any personal info, like where she’s from, or her real name. Regardless, Jacob is ready to take their relationship to the next level. Now, if only he can locate her so he can tell her.
CASEY’S FAMILY IS IN THE WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM. Safety has to be their only priority. Their cover has been blown before, so Casey knows at any given time they could be forced to disappear again. Obviously, a shy young man with hopeful eyes cannot possibly be added to the mix. You cannot build a relationship like that. Now, if only she can stop thinking about him.
JACOB’S AND CASEY’S WORLDS UNEXPECTEDLY COLLIDE when Jacob inadvertently helps hide her family. Exposed to their 24-7 vigilance, Jacob realizes he must come up with a plan to keep them out of harm’s way, because this time if Casey disappears, she will be taking with her Jacob’s heart, and his hopes of finally having a family of his own.
Book Excerpt 1:
As he was about to do justice to his last bite of fried dough, a crowd milling around a nearby sign drew Jacob’s attention. Brushing powdered sugar off his hands, he read:
The Kissing Booth
Pucker Up for Charity
The Kissing Booth itself was more like a wooden stage about three feet above the ground, topped with a folding table and a couple of chairs. A bright-blue plastic tarp had been erected overhead to shade the participants, and a heavy red curtain hung behind them, creating a back wall. There were stairs on either side, and the front of the booth was lined with what appeared to be buckets of water.
Two pretty girls, a blonde and a redhead, sat on the chairs, raising money for some worthy cause, one gentle peck on the cheek at a time. About a dozen males of various ages lined up to the left of the stage. Older folks occupied clumps of lawn chairs on either side of the booth, providing an ongoing commentary as they traded quips about the participants.
Brushing wayward powdered sugar off his clothes, Jacob joined the good-natured bystanders next to the line of hopefuls.
To his complete and utter astonishment, there was The Nameless Wonder. He held his breath, not daring to believe his good fortune. It was definitely her, in all her glory. Today, the baseball cap was absent, and her shiny brown hair flowed down her back, brushing across her cheeks in the gentle summer breeze. She shook it out of her way, a scowl marring her flushed face as she strode by.
Elated, Jacob moved to intercept her. Then panic set in. What was he going to say to her? After all the time spent hoping he’d run into her, one would think he would’ve prepared a dazzling opening line designed for this exact moment.
Apparently she was heading for The Kissing Booth and the merrily waving redhead. A glance established the redhead was gathering her belongings. Horror eclipsed his internal social struggle when he realized the object of his turmoil intended to replace the redhead at The Kissing Booth.
No way! In an instant, harmless fun morphed into inappropriate behavior. Somehow he had to stop her. She wasn’t going to kiss a bunch of strangers if he had anything to say about it.
Apparently, someone else was of the same mind. As she approached the side stairs, a strong hand snaked out from a dark suit, grabbed her by the arm, and whirled her around.
“You are not going up there,” a low, angry voice ground out.
Jacob paused as the line of waiting-to-be-kissed males eagerly turned to watch.
A sixteenish boy next to Jacob elbowed him in the ribs, bouncing with excitement. “This is the best part. Happens every year.”
“What?” Jacob asked, focused on the incensed man.
“This.” The boy gestured toward the mysterious brunette. “Someone is always trying to…you know…interfere.”
“You mean, stop her?”
“Nah. It’s someone different every year.” The kid scoffed in the direction of the finger jabbing the suit’s chest. “Who comes to a fair in a suit…James Bond?”
A rotund man behind Jacob boomed, “Yeah, I don’t believe the story myself, but what if it’s true? I wouldn’t let my girl be up there with all those honeys!”
What story was the guy talking about? Not that it mattered. Jacob was concerned about only one honey and, right now, she was making him feel…what? Protective? And jealous? Was he seriously wishing her finger jabbed at him, and those brown eyes flashed at his?
Who is that, anyway? Her father? Jacob tried to step around the hopefuls to get a better view of the dark-haired guy. No, too young. Her boyfriend? Nah, too old. Well, whoever he is, he’s pissed. Wait. What’s she saying?
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she hissed at the man. “You’re not my father.” Jab, jab.
Okay, not her father.
The man colored and released her arm.
“No, I’m not your father.” He took a threatening step toward her. “If I were your father, you’d be over my knee for taking stupid risks.”
Alarms went off in Jacob. He didn’t know this guy, but he recognized controlled fury when he saw it. She was pushing the wrong buttons with this fella. Jacob stepped closer. If she needed his help, he was prepared to whip her out of there.
“I’m not taking any risks!” she shouted as she stomped. “It’s a kiss on the cheek. And it’s not my birthday!”
She made no sense to Jacob, but several spectators repeated her words and laughed. He eased in closer. This was going to blow up.
“Listen—” the suit yelled as he tried to grab her arm again, but she was ready for him this time. Sidestepping him, she twirled away and slammed right into Jacob.
Amidst the hoots from the guys in the line, Jacob’s arms wrapped around her as he steadied them both. Her hands splayed on his chest as she regained her footing, her eyes wide. And there it was—the same tingle coursing through his veins he had experienced with her before. For a moment, their gazes locked.
Then the angry suit charged at them…and fast.
About the Author
DEBORAH ANN DAVIS has been writing since she was assigned to keep a Journal in her 5th grade English class. She began to look around for writing inspiration. Lo and behold, she found her world was full of funny stories just waiting to be told. As she grew older, occasionally she could manipulate one into some school assignment, but it never occurred to her to pursue writing, not even when she discovered her flare for telling stories at college parties.
After a string of college majors, she realized she could have a captive audience EVERY DAY in the public school system. As it turns out, teenagers love to laugh, and what could be more entertaining than Biology, Earth Science, and Environmental Science? Then there’s the added bonus that once kids know you like to laugh, they want to make you laugh.
In addition to Writing, she is also an Educational Speaker and a Certified Personal Trainer. She taught for 25+ years, although somewhere in the middle of all that educating, she stepped out of teaching for 6 years to do the Mommy Thing, and run the office for their family construction company.
Even though they had followed separate paths, Deborah reunited with, and married her childhood sweetheart, twelve years after their first kiss. Together they coached their daughter’s AAU Basketball Team, which swept States two years in a row. (Yay!) Then, for several years their daughter and their money went to college.
They currently reside on a lovely lake in Connecticut. She enjoys dabbling with living a sustainable life, writing novels for her Love of Fairs series, dancing, playing outside, and laughing really hard every day. She promotes increasing the amount of movement throughout your day via Wiggle Writer posts on Merry Meddling, her blog at www.DeborahAnnDavis.com. Follow her @DeborahAnnDavis.
Remember, you can do anything if you set your mind to it— including becoming an author at any age— but it’s way more fun if you are grinning back when the Universe smiles down on you.
For More Information
- Visit Deborah Ann Davis’ website.
- Connect with Deborah on Facebook and Twitter.
- Find out more about Deborah at Goodreads.