He's the only thing that's right: Crossing the Line

 

Crossing the Line

A new steamy romance novel from Ally Bishop...

What happens when you meet someone who could be the right person...at the exact wrong time?

 

Get it on Amazon.

 

 

About Crossing the Line

I’ve never believed in love at first sight, which is probably why I write mysteries, and not romances, for a living. Besides, I’m too focused on expanding Elementary, a mystery dinner party business I own with my brother Noah. I don’t have time for romance. When the handsome and successful Ian Crane books our services, I can barely keep my wits about me. He’s setting fire to all my rules, and I can’t resist his flames. I don’t recognize the woman I’m becoming, but I don’t want to go back to who I was. There’s a part of me that can’t help wondering, what if he’s too good to be true? Because if he is, my heart will be nothing more than ashes. Heat rating: Toasty warm, with plenty of flames.

Add Crossing the Line to your TBR list on Goodreads!

 

Note from the author
Thank you so much for checking out my book, Crossing the Line! This is book 2 in the Without a Trace series, and tells the tale of Ella and Ian—it is a prequel to Inside the Lines. If you read and Lux and Fin's story, you'll recall these characters—you know the ending...but can you guess their beginning? Keep an eye out as books 3 & 4 in the Without a Series will be out this year!  

Special sneak peek:

Ch. 2: Ella is co-owner of Elementary, a mystery dinner theater company in Brooklyn, NY, and Ian Crane is their first high-profile client—and considered to be the one of the city's most eligible bachelors—and Ella's meeting with him to discuss his upcoming party...right, the party...

After the brutal cold of the night, his apartment feels welcoming and cozy. He takes my coat, his fingers brushing mine. The unexpected touch sends delicious shivers down my back. I don't know what I'm doing here—he's a client, and an important one. We've been trying hard to get into neighborhoods like his. Plus, he's friendly and seems sincere—I don't want to ruin anything for Elementary. But there's something about him—and I don't mean the fact that he's stunning to look at—that makes me want to spend more time in his space. He's different. Most of the guys I've met here have been professionals, driven and goal-oriented. And they seemed to treat their romantic lives the same way. Ian feels more…relaxed. Maybe a bit impetuous? I don't know. But there's something here I haven't felt in a long time, and I've missed it. We make small talk about his firm while the coffee brews. He's hoping to be made a partner in the next few years, and he mentions a case he just finished. He's loosened his tie, shed his suit coat, and when we relax onto his leather couch with our respective mugs, the conversation slows as we enjoy the aroma and flavor of the drink. "My God, you weren't kidding." I sigh after I take another sip. "This is incredible." "I'm not sure if it's the machine or the beans she sent, but I haven't been able to stay away from the damn thing since it arrived." "I can see why." I imbibe a bit more before setting my mug next to his on the coffee table. There are several feet between us on the couch, and even though we were probably seated closer together at the Japanese restaurant, this feels very intimate. "You said earlier that you never gave much thought to going to law school. Where did you think you'd end up?" The gas fireplace crackles, punctuating my sentence, or perhaps mocking me as I'm trying to ignore what's going on and why I'm still in this man's apartment. "I never gave it much thought. Honestly, I was a stupid kid." His grin is a bit embarrassed as he stretches back against the couch cushions. "Between undergrad and law school, my father forced me to take a year off. When he retired, he'd decided to travel, but not in conventional ways. He visited friends working in third world countries and helped them treat those who couldn't afford medical care. So he dragged me along with him, as a payback for him paying for law school. It forced me to grow up…in a lot of ways." "Wow. Your dad was hardcore." "He was." He nods, his smile shrinking a bit. "But he taught me a lot. I grew up privileged. I had everything. And even though my parents tried to make sure I was brought up right and understood the world, you don't really get it until you see it. You know what I mean?" I nod. "I do. We were the opposite. My parents…they did okay for themselves, and they were smart. They got life insurance, so when Noah and I turned eighteen, we had college money and a little bit of a cushion to survive on. But our grandparents were poor. So we grew up knowing the price difference between frozen and canned peas and watching the coupon pages in the newspaper. But we knew we had more than others." "Exactly. We get comfortable in our lives here—and we should. That's part of living in this country. But it's dangerous when we assume everyone has that opportunity." The intensity of the conversation turns the silence afterwards reflective. We sit quietly for a few minutes, each lost in thought. "More coffee?" Ian nods to my cup. "Sure." I follow him into the kitchen, noting how well his suit pants fit his ass and the way his shirt clings to his muscled shoulders. Yummy, indeed. He's doing something with the coffee machine, and I lean back against the counter, trying not to stare at him. When he turns, he's just a bit too close, and then his mouth is on mine, soft yet demanding, and his hands slide up to my shoulders. It's a quick kiss, almost chaste, but the heat sears my lips. "I really hope you wanted me to do that." He drops his hands to his sides, his tone pensive. I bite my lip, still feeling his mouth. "I didn't stop you." My insides are turning to jelly, but all I want is to feel him against me again. So I do something I never do. I make the next move. He's taller than me by several inches, so I draw his face down to mine, lips teasing over his as I ease us into the next kiss. His mouth is hungry, but his touch soft as his hands slide over my back, pulling me against him. I lean in, enjoying the sculpted length of him against my body and the light scent of his aftershave. When my tongue teases the edge of his mouth, he answers in kind, deepening the kiss, his arms tightening around me. "Wow," I say when we come up for air. "That was…" "Unexpected?" His eyes crinkle at the corners, his expression hopeful. "Lovely, actually." We forget about the coffee, getting lost in the excitement of skin and heat. When his hand slides beneath my sweater, moisture pools between my legs. I haven't felt this turned on in a long time, and for once, my usual caution seems to have evaporated. He lifts me, setting me on his counter as he continues his exploration of my skin. I wrap my legs around his waist, enjoying the feel of his hardness against me. His fingers release my bra, and when his palm skims my breast, I suck in a breath, letting his mouth drop to my neck as I revel in the sensation. "I want to undress you," he whispers in my ear, sending a delicious chill down to my core. "It would be a lot easier in my bedroom."

Want more Ella and Ian?

Get your copy of Crossing the Line here!

 

 

The Cast of Crossing the Line

Ella

Ian

Noah

Lux

 

The Playlist

While I don't listen to music with words while I'm writing, I listen to it all the time when I'm thinking about how to create an emotionally relevant tale. :)  

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About Ally Bishop
When you do something effortlessly and people commend you continuously, you have found your gift. That’s what I tell people all the time. And it’s true. I get story. I always have. I started writing when I was 8 on a Smith Corona (the electronic kind — I’m not THAT old). I wrote stories in every spiral notebook I had. Eventually, I graduated to a Mac (yes, I’m one of THOSE people). I imagined new worlds, emotional conflicts, and HEAs while I waited at stoplights or wandered the grocery store. But here’s the thing: I didn’t just dream it up and write it down — I critiqued what I read. I knew when ideas were good, and when they stunk. I ran writing groups, judged creative contests, and eventually got two graduate degrees in writing. That’s right: I love it that much. So here I am, years later, writing kickass heroines and devastating good guys, along with some mystery and vampires thrown in (I promise: THEY’RE COMING). And what’s really cool? I do what I love. Wanna write a success story for your life: I promise you, that’s it. Do what you love. And hopefully, you can make a living at it too. That’s the golden ticket, Charlie. And chocolate doesn’t hurt, either… The serious stuff: I have an M.A. in creative writing, as well as an M.F.A. in creative writing with a focus in publishing. I produce two podcasts, host one, and am a freelance editor and publicist over at Upgrade Your Story. In my free time (what is that, exactly?), I read, workout, game, and converse. I’m a high introvert despite my extroverted behaviors, so you’ll find me behind my computer most days. I’m married to the wild and brilliant Billy Crash, have two dogs who are filing to change their species designation to “human,” and can often be found wandering Manhattan in search of the perfect writing spot.

You can find me at Twitter at @upgradestory & @allyabishop, Facebook, Pinterest, and my website.

What if I surrender to him?

Inside the Lines

Without a Trace series

A debut novel from Ally Bishop

 

What happens when a Dominatrix realizes she wants something more for her life

...and her heart?

Get it on Amazon

 

About Inside the Lines

What happens in love might destroy you... Or remake you altogether.

I make a living offering men and women their ultimate fantasies…as submissives of the mysterious Mistress Hathaway. I've never surrendered to anyone. That's not the way it works. Or rather, not the way I operate. But when the gorgeous Fin MacKenzie shows up in my life, he throws everything out of balance. Now I'm not sure who I am anymore, and I'm questioning everything.

What woman can turn away from a gorgeous Scotsman, especially when he sets her body on fire and her heart ablaze? I have to stop it…us. I can't keep going like this. It will ruin everything I've worked so hard to build. Who am I if I surrender to him? Worse yet, who am I if I don't?

Add Inside the Lines to your TBR list on Goodreads!

Special sneak peek:

Ch 3:  When Lux meets Fin
[Lux has a female client for whom she's orchestrated a fantasy. Her friend, Stephen, a well-known escort, is supposed to be the "help," but he ends up sending someone in his place...]

The candescence of pink light softens the room. The hazy glow turns the blood red decor into a deep maroon. This hotel made a splash because of its "red suites;" they're swanky and beautifully styled. And for this evening's pleasure, they seemed like the perfect fit.

I've remade the suite's bedroom with the softer bulbs, draping scarves, red boas, and a few well- placed, cotton restraints. Someone knocks, and I hope it's Stephen. But when I open the door, it's Ari.

"Oh, God, am I too early?"

Her blue eyes go round as she takes in my cut-up t-shirt that falls artfully, exposing my shoulder, and stops just shy of my wine-colored skinny jeans.

"Well, it's not quite—" I check my phone for the time but also see a missed text, which makes me frown. "What the..." Apparently, I nudged the ringer off, and with setting up and moving around, I missed the vibration of a new text. One that says Stephen can't make it. "Un-fucking-believable. You asshole."

Ari stares at me, wide-eyed. Her white-blond hair shimmers in a short, wispy cut that frames her heart-shaped face. A professional dancer, Ari has the slight build of a ballerina, but with more softness and curve.

I shake my head. "Not you, love. Come in. You're about a half hour early, so I haven't changed yet. Come in," I say again when she pauses at the door.

One of the ongoing problems with Ari is her hesitance. It's taken me nearly six months to get her to this point. I'm going to kill Stephen for ruining it. I check the text so I can read the whole thing.

Sry, dove, I'm sick. And u don't want my snot ruining a sexy scene. Found a replacement, tho. Fin. Trust me, u will luv him. xoxo.

I receive a second text as I'm standing there.

Hi. It's Fin. Stephen sent me. I'm here at the hotel. What room?

Un-fucking-believable. I text him the floor and say I'll meet him. Then I return Stephen's message: you better die of this illness. Or I promise, you'll wish you did.

"Ari, I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable. Remember what we talked about. Deep breaths, center yourself—"

"Envision, and repeat mantra." Ari's light voice finishes for me. "I know."

She smiles, but the corners of her mouth flicker with nerves. Inwardly, I sigh. Then I shower her with smiling confidence and step into the hallway, closing the door snugly.

When the elevator opens, another couple gets off, wheeling luggage behind them. The doors start to shut, but then a strong hand holds them open. The man that steps off is very tall, well over six feet, and when his aquamarine eyes meet mine, he grins.

"Lux, I take it?" His deep voice holds a heavy Scottish burr.

He wears jeans and a nondescript black t-shirt under a black leather jacket, and if I weren't so mad, I'd be swooning. Dear God. His shoulders and chest are broad, but not thick. He's built more like a soccer player, with wavy auburn hair with hints of chestnut. He has a crooked smile, and when I stand there staring for a moment, I get a glimpse of perfectly straight teeth and a dimple. Holy Christ, Stephen sent me an underwear model.



"I know you. You're the guy from that ad. Th-the new Monsieur line. You're on the goddamn billboard in Times Square in bikini briefs."

Monsieur is a male clothing boutique on Fashion Avenue; they've been making quite a stir with their advertising of everyday men—e.g. not celebrities or models, though you'd be hard-pressed to find one that isn't ripped— wearing their new underwear line. His cheeks blush, which on him, is highly attractive, and I get more of that uneven grin.

"Aye, well, that might've been me." He scratches the back of his neck. "Stephen said ye needed a bit of help tonight."

And with that, I remember how pissed I am. "Stephen is a goddamn asshole. Do you even know what you're doing here tonight? Did he give you the details?"

If there is one thing I'm sensing, it's a distinct lack of kink. Fin looks like he should have a blonde wife, 2.5 kids, and a house with a white picket fence.

"Well, he wasna very specific with details, but he did mention that ye needed a cock." His eyes crinkle even more at his bald language, his face turning brighter pink. "Seein' as which I have one of those, I should be able to help ye." His brogue thickens with his embarrassment.

"Christ. I'm glad Stephen narrowed the whole evening down to a male organ." I glare at Fin. "Men."

I turn and storm away, leaving Fin to follow. I feel like I have an enormous shadow behind me, and I realize I have to have this conversation away from the room's door, or Ari will hear it. So I turn on my heel and confront him mid-hallway. I crane my neck to make eye contact.

"Never mind. Just go home. I'm canceling this nightmare before it gets out of hand."

He lays a hand on my shoulder as I turn away, his heat searing my bare skin. "Wait, now. Look." He drops his hand and stops a beat until I meet his gaze. "I ken I'm not the charmer Stephen is, but I ken a fair bit about what he does. I think I can handle it. And he mentioned that ye were a Dominatrix, and that ye'd be runnin' things, so ye can just tell me what to do." He bites the inside of his lip. "I'll do it."

The cheer in his eyes pisses me off. "This is a joke to you. You can barely keep from laughing." I shake my head at him, my temper undoubtedly turning my own skin pink. "This is not funny. The woman on the other side of that door," I point down the hallway, "is terrified of letting herself go. She has a hard time enjoying sex because of assholes who ridiculed and abused her rather than making her feel beautiful and aroused. I will be damned if I will let you anywhere near her. Not when you think this is some kind of goddamn joke. You are—"

"Lux, I'm sorry. I wasna laughing at ye or anything about this." He steps closer, and I get a whiff of some kind of creamy, spicy cologne mixed with... him, probably. And it's delicious. "But ye have a feather here," his hand reaches towards my hair and plucks something from it. "And it wiggles, the angrier ye get."

I glare at the offending feather and snatch it from him. It's from one of the props I brought with me, and the delicate fringe crushes easily in my palm. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. If I cancel this, Ari will be heartbroken. I've fielded half a dozen texts from her already this week, thanking me for doing this and asking nervous questions. After six months of meeting with her, we're finally at the point of fulfilling her deepest fantasy. And there are worse-looking men to have in your fantasy than this one.

"You cannot, I repeat, cannot fuck this up. You listen to me, you do exactly what I say, and you never step a toe out of line. Am I clear?"

Even to my ears, I sound like a total ass, but surprisingly, Fin only nods. "Aye."

"You will call me Mistress Hathaway, as none of my clients know my real name."

"Of course."

"You'll strip down to your underwear when we get inside, and you will not approach the bedroom or Ari until I say so. Got it?"

He nods, his face solemn, though I can still see the laughter in his eyes. "After ye, Mistress," he says with a small bow.

Want more Lux and Fin? Get your copy of Inside the Lines here!

The Cast of Inside the Lines
Lux      Fin
Ella   Noah
Ari

The Playlist

While I don't listen to music with words while I'm writing, I listen to it all the time when I'm thinking about how to create an emotionally relevant tale. :) A few of these songs were featured in Inside the Lines!

About Ally Bishop

When you do something effortlessly and people commend you continuously, you have found your gift.
That’s what I tell people all the time. And it’s true. I get story. I always have. I started writing when I was 8 on a Smith Corona (the electronic kind — I’m not THAT old). I wrote stories in every spiral notebook I had. Eventually, I graduated to a Mac (yes, I’m one of THOSE people). I imagined new worlds, emotional conflicts, and HEAs while I waited at stoplights or wandered the grocery store. But here’s the thing: I didn’t just dream it up and write it down — I critiqued what I read. I knew when ideas were good, and when they stunk. I ran writing groups, judged creative contests, and eventually got two graduate degrees in writing. That’s right: I love it that much. So here I am, years later, writing kickass heroines and devastating good guys, along with some mystery and vampires thrown in (I promise: THEY’RE COMING). And what’s really cool? I do what I love. Wanna write a success story for your life: I promise you, that’s it. Do what you love. And hopefully, you can make a living at it too. That’s the golden ticket, Charlie. And chocolate doesn’t hurt, either…

The serious stuff: I have an M.A. in creative writing, as well as an M.F.A. in creative writing with a focus in publishing. I produce two podcasts, host one, and am a freelance editor and publicist over at Upgrade Your Story. In my free time (what is that, exactly?), I read, workout, game, and converse. I’m a high introvert despite my extroverted behaviors, so you’ll find me behind my computer most days. I’m married to the wild and brilliant Billy Crash, have two dogs who are filing to change their species designation to “human,” and can often be found wandering Manhattan in search of the perfect writing spot.

You can find me at Twitter at @upgradestory & @allyabishop, Facebook, Pinterest, and my website.