Introducing Chrysta Mane, An Aspiring Writer with A lot of Talent

I am delighted that Caitlyn asked me to write an introduction for Chrysta Mane.  She is one of my oldest friends on Facebook, and a loyal and enthusiastic supporter of my writing, so I am more than happy to support hers.  I am sure that her work will be a success when she publishes it.  I for one can't wait to read her first novel in print, and I wish her all the success she deserves.  Come on Chrysta, darlin, time to show us all what you can do!

                                   Nell Brown

I am a romantic at heart and avid reader, characters and stories have rolled around in my head seemingly forever. When the kids were young, I put a few stories on paper, but home,family, and work came first.

Years after the kids were grown and on their own, I lost my long-time computer specialist position. With no other reason standing in the way, I turned to writing again, from short contemporaries to long historical romances, all with Alpha heroes and equally strong heroines in search of the elusive happily ever after.  Here are two excerpts from two of the stories I'm working on.

                                                                       Chrysta Mane

TANGLED WEB

It’s not funny.

Oh, yes, it is. Almost as funny as trying to ignore six feet tall and solid muscle, with reddish brown hair and gorgeous hazel eyes, and hypnotizes you with the same ease as those other females.

What other females?

Those other coeds you’ve muttered about mooning over him, and don’t you dare try to deny it.

“Oh, those,” Gaby muttered. She may lust for the hot professor, but the very idea he'd ever noticed her was so far-fetched, it was inconceivable. Besides, if the rumors circulating around campus were true, no female stood a chance with the man anyway.

Of course, it was mere conjecture. No one knew for certain, and just because he supposedly didn’t date, didn’t mean he was homosexual. The idea was positively ludicrous, along with the notion his colleagues wanted to nominate him for a Playgirl centerfold. The man certainly did not fit the muscled type who graced the magazine’s photo spread, but his sexy self-assurance attracted more than his fair share of female attention among the student body, which probably accounted for his colleagues envy.

Whatever it was, the straight-laced hunky professor had a pristine record and reputation, obviously liked his job and its tenured security, too much to risk it by breaking any of the rules and regulations laid down by the Board of Regents forbidding social interaction between teachers and students.

That was then, there's nothing stopping you now, the voice mocked aloud, sending a heated flare of churning in the pit of her stomach.

No, absolutely not, it’s pointless to even consider. The man never showed a smidge of interest in me, and I won’t be made into a fool by listening to such nonsense.

Not even if he's your mate?

Oh, for crying out loud, not that again? He is not my mate, so stop harping on it. Her ears flicked in annoyance as she clenched her teeth. Talk of a mate was pure craziness, and she refused to be drawn into it. Besides, wouldn't she have sensed if he was her mate? Grams had taught the youngins that one could sense their mate was near before ever seeing or smelling them, though to this day Gaby doubted the old woman's logic. One couldn't sense, or for that matter, smell another. Could they?

Stop sticking your head in the sand like a blooming ostrich. He’s your mate, and it’s time you accepted it, then did something about it. No rules broken by finally getting it on.

Oh, for goodness sake, stop talking so crude. Anger sluiced through her veins as beads of sweat erupted all over her skin despite the cold air smacking into her face and riot of emotions tearing at her insides. He’s not my mate, he’s not my mate.

Oh, good grief, why are you so hell-bent on wearing blinders?

Because I don’t want a mate. Men like Professor Taggett want tall, willowy, well-endowed, not average height with full curves and too smart for her own good, that's why.

Let me get this right, you know him well enough to know the type of woman that would please him and you're not it?

That's about the size of it.

For crying out loud, must you analyze so much? You nearly combust whenever he's near, yet you expect me to believe you're willing to walk away without even trying?

IN A MOMENT

“Oh,” she cried, propping up the front hood to have a look see. Other than being able to point out the battery or the dip stick to check the engine oil level, she had absolutely no idea what she was looking at. To a trained eye, any number of things could be wrong, but from her perspective, it was nothing more than a car's engine and everything looked fine.

“Won’t start?” a decidedly male voice said from behind.

Startled, she squeaked “What?” and swiveled her head to look. A tallish, lean man stood scant feet away. A definite five o’clock shadow outlined his square-jawed face punctuated by high cheek bones any woman would die for, a prominent nose and the most intense, vivid blue eyes shaded by a fringe of curly dark lashes. Damn, it wasn’t fair for features like those to be wasted on a man. She knew any number of females who’d give their eyeteeth to see that staring back in the mirror each morning.

As she stared unabashedly at the stranger, she felt an odd flutter in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with pain or hunger or any discernible cause. His mouth curled into a smile, and her pulse leaped in her veins. Several long moments passed before it settled back into any sort of normal rhythm.

“Car won’t start?” His arms crossed over his chest, he nodded in the direction of the vehicle directly in front of her. She nodded back, having suddenly lost the ability to speak. A curious situation since she made a living talking to a classroom of students on a daily basis.

Hands shoved into the pockets of tight jeans, he seemed very self-assured, mature, not at all like the cocky twenty something males that strutted around campus. The near form-fitting shirt did nothing to hide a physique shouting regular workout. He could easily rival any one of the so-called jocks forced to take classes here before transferring to a four-year school where an athletic scholarship awaited.

It took long minutes before she felt confident her voice was steady. “Are you lost? Do you need any help?”

His grin widened, and her stomach lurched. Suddenly unsteady on her feet, she grasped the car’s frame and stared at the cold engine. What the heck was going on? One minute she’s trying to deal with a vehicle who’s cold and unresponsive, and the next she’s faced with so hot and sexy it could melt the pavement in a matter of minutes.

Dear lord, if this is some sort of payback for some atrocity done in the past, I promise I’ll be good from now on. Only free me from this kind of penance. It’s not nice to tease me this way. You know I can’t handle it. Please.