bossiness. He can tolerate that she thinks she's psychic. But when it comes to what her gorgeous body does to him, he might be in over his head.
Kandrea can't get her mind off her latest artwork--possibly her best yet. As she struggles to understand what the spirit world is trying to tell her, she's also fighting her growing attraction to the surly, caveman-like Clyde.
Damon is determined to get Kandrea. And no psychic claims--or painful memories--can scare him away.
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Bossy and Clyde by Jaid Black
"I'm afraid this simply won't do."
"I don't understand."
"What's not to understand, sir? It's ugly. I hate it."
Damon Clyde ran a hand over his five o'clock shadow as he tried to make sense of the tiny, odd creature standing next to him. Tan, blonde, blue-eyed and full-figured, she was a beautiful woman from an aesthetic standpoint. Not a conventional looker by any means, but provocative in an earthy way.
He knew all kinds of females--from dancers to accountants, actresses to schoolteachers--but he could honestly say he'd never met, let alone lusted after, a woman quite like Kandy Kane. A self-proclaimed psychic artiste with an I-just-escaped-from-the-nuthouse air about her, he couldn't understand why his dick got rock-hard every time he so much as caught a whiff of her scent.
Her name was actually Kandrea Kane and, from what he'd been warned, she hated it when people took the liberty of shortening her name to Kandy. Damon made a mental note to make use of that torture tactic very soon if she didn't quit frustrating the shit out of him.
Kandrea had hired his firm, Clyde & Masterson, to renovate her newly purchased one-bedroom Manhattan apartment. She wanted her home to be "the perfect little aura retreat" and had used her so-called psychic ability to decide on which of New York City's umpteen builders she would hire. He had found himself wishing more than a few times this past week that her premonitions, or more likely the Yellow Pages, hadn't led her to him.
"Ms. Kane..." Damon inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. She would not, under any circumstances, get to him. "I'm trying to understand what exactly it is you find ugly about this wall, but seeing as how my crew hasn't even built it yet, I'm somewhat puzzled."
He forced a smile, pleased that he managed to spit that sentence out calmly, if a bit gruffly. He could almost understand her taking a disliking to a wall that actually existed, but an imaginary one?
Holy shit, the woman was a kook.
"But you're going to build it," Kandrea said crisply. "And then you're going to paint it."
"You said you wanted it painted."
"Yes. But I didn't say I wanted it to be canary yellow! Good grief. My alcoholic aunt vomits up bile more attractive than that color."
"It will not be painted yellow. It'll be the exact shade of violet-blue you asked for."
"That's not what I saw in the vision I had this morning."
"Oh for cripes' sake--"
"I distinctly saw a member of your crew paint my wall an ungodly yellow hue!"
Her nostrils flared as though this had all really happened. Damon didn't know whether to laugh, cry, bellow at her to find another builder, fuck her until she shut up or all of the above. He slapped a palm to his forehead. The woman was driving him into the same psychotic mental state she called home.
Nothing and no one got to him. Ever. He didn't want her to be the first.
And just what was it about her that was so damn alluring anyway? Damon was the sort of man whose nature was ruled by logic and science. He didn't deal well with feminine feelings, let alone cuckoo psychic ones. He was stoic and in control, sturdy and concrete. He didn't raise his voice or use his physical strength to cower others. He never lost his cool.
And then came Kandy Kane.
He could feel the need to shout, possibly hit someone or something, boiling dangerously below his typically collected exterior. She was getting under his skin and making a mess of his well-ordered world.
"My sensitive aura," Kandrea said crisply, "cannot and will not tolerate the putrid color of stomach bile coating my wall."
Damon's fists balled at his sides. It was either that or punch a hole through the nonexistent wall in question.
Kandrea Kane was crazier than bat shit. And his dick was so hard it ached. He didn't know whether he was angry at her for being a first-rate nut-job or at himself for being attracted to a woman who made Sybil seem lucid by comparison.