Candice Gilmer, Go big or go home







What people are saying:

About Fantasy Girl:

"...Samhain Publishing and Candice Gilmer have hit the ball way out of the park with FANTASY GIRL. This gripping, chilling, romantic suspense is sure to be a solid seller."

Tammy, Love Romances and More

About Unholy Night:

"...the supernatural and passion mix to make for a great, fast read."

Judy Szabo,
ParaNormalRomance

"Candice Glimer's world and character building in Unholy Night is phenomenal!"

Catherine Smith,
ParaNormalRomance




Fantasy Girl, by Candice Gilmer

At night she comes alive, but a madman's fantasies could kill her...

Now available from Samhain Publishing

 

 

 

“You have got to be kidding me.” I cried out as I kicked my rear driver’s-side tire. The thing was flatter than a pancake. A slew of cuss words slipped out of my mouth, rivaling the best sailors.

“Lynn?” came a voice from behind me.

I spun around. “What?” I snapped, realizing I was spinning around to glare at the one and only Jack Edwards.

Damn my luck. And didn’t it beat all, that a week after meeting him, I was still getting all gooey inside just looking at him.

I seriously needed some help. Professional help.

“Uh, need some help?” he asked with a brow raised, framing his rather amused expression.

“No, thank you,” I snapped, glaring down at the terrible tire. Anything to keep from looking at Jack. “I am perfectly capable of changing my own tire.” I opened the trunk, and tried to pull my tire out. Which really, it wasn’t that heavy. It was a spare…
And it landed with a thud, flat as well.

“Shit.”

Jack hid a smirk behind his hand. “Sure you don’t need anything?”

“I’m fine,” I said a bit too loudly.

“Sure you are,” Jack replied. He sashayed up next to me, and yes, it was a sashay, he was far too damn smug for his good looks. Damn me for getting all girly inside at the sight of him coming over to rescue my damsel in distress.

Then he became the ultimate man.

He picked up the flat spare, looked at it, and said “Yep, it’s flat.”

“What are you, a rocket scientist in your spare time?”

“Only on the weekends.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. Yep, I’m mature. Really.

Then Jack started rooting around in my trunk, pulling out the jack.

“What are you doing? I can’t put that flat spare on.” I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.

Jack positioned the lift under my car, and started raising the poor old Mazda that I drove. “But I can take you to get this tire fixed.” He popped off the hubcap and started on the bolts.

What an arrogant ass! What am I? Incapable of taking care of myself? I mean I can very easily change a tire. It’s not like it’s hard. ’Course, truth be told, I would call my dad, and have him come do it for me, because, well, he’s my dad, and he lives for this stuff.
“What if I don’t want you to? I’m perfectly capable,” I started to argue, but with amazing pit crew speed, Jack had the flat tire off my car before I could finish my sentence. I threw my arms up in the air in frustration.

“What?” Jack asked. “You know where there’s a place that can fix this?”

I shrugged. “There’s a Pep Boys or something like that around the corner.”

’Course, I really couldn’t help the part of me that was excited that the new guy was helping me get my tire fixed. He led me to a huge black Chevy Tahoe, immaculate inside and out. I couldn’t help whistling at the perfection of it and feeling like crap that Jack had to see my Mazda that seriously needed to be traded in for something else.

The stars must have aligned just right, because as Jack and I were climbing in, Tina Smith and several of her minions were leaving the building. Instantly her gaze locked on mine, and she shot daggers at me.

It took all my strength not to stick my tongue out at her.

***

Pep Boys wasn’t horribly busy, and they managed to get me right in to fix my tire. While I was waiting, Jack and I roamed the aisles to see if there was anything that we couldn’t live without.

’Course, they don’t sell whole new cars at Pep Boys, so I was out of luck there.

I stared at some of the racks of cleaning wipes for the dashboard. And sprays. And rags. My God, did people really need all this stuff to keep their car clean?

“It’s no wonder my car’s a mess."

“Why?” Jack asked.

“If I knew I had to buy all this stuff,” I said gesturing to the shelves, “I might have given up on buying a car in the first place.”

Jack grinned, flashing a bright mouth full of pearly white teeth at me.

Be still my beating heart.

I spied one of my favorite car accessories. “Oh, look, air fresheners.” I darted down the aisle.

Nope, not one single one with Buffy on it. Darn it.

Jack smirked and came after me. “So who do you want to be when you grow up, Lynn?” he asked as we sniffed the different fresheners. He grimaced at a fruity one and hung it back up.

“I am grown up. I just don’t have to act like it,” I said. “Who do you want to be?”

“I want to save the world.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Like a superhero or something?”

“Sure,” he said hanging up another one, straightening the row out as he did. “Why not?”

“Because you’re going to have to be better on the computer to be Super Jack—the Accountant.”


Jack laughed.


They called my name over the intercom and Jack and I headed up to the front. The guy behind the counter, smelling of grease rags and motor oil, stood there waiting for us. A smear of black goo covered part of his name patch, concealing the “J” in John.

“We got it fixed,” John said. “Looks almost like your tire got stabbed.”

“Stabbed?” I asked staring at him. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“Well, usually, if something’s been driven over, there’s a nail or what have you stuck in the tire. You didn’t have anything like that.”

I glanced at Jack. “Has that been going on lately?”

The guy shrugged. “Sometimes kids do it. You live somewhere around here?”

“I work down the way,” I pointed over my shoulder toward the office.

“Probably just kids. I wouldn’t worry about it much,” said John. He handed me the bill, and Jack promptly yanked it from my hand.

“Hey,” I said, “I was going to pay for that.”

Jack shrugged. “I’ll pay, and you can buy dinner.”

I crossed my hands over my chest. “Oh, so you just assume that I’ll buy you dinner now?” Presumptuous ass.

“I’m fixing your tire, you should.”

John couldn’t help adding his thoughts. “Sounds only fair to me.”

I gritted my teeth. Great, now I have to buy dinner for Jack.

Then my brain kicked in. Whoa, this would kinda count as a date, wouldn’t it? Dinner with Jack? Even if I just get Burger King?

Oh the possibilities.

 

 

 

 

 


Copyright 2006 by Candice Gilmer, Design by Renee Rocco