(Two quick definitions for those those who might not be familiar with publishing terms.

“Sweet” romance means more traditional romance, where there is either no sleeping together, or if so, it’s behind closed doors. My stories all fall under this category.

Epublishers are publishers who primarily offer their books in electronic format. In other words, you read them on e-readers or on your computer, cell phone, and anything else which can display a PDF document. E-books are quickly growing in popularity, sales, and numbers every month.)

Anyway, I decided that it might be fun to take the challenge… and I’m happy to announce that my story was accepted!

“When Time Stands Still” will be part of this anthology titled One Glance, One Touch, which is scheduled to be available as an e-book before the end of the year.

I will post a link when it’s released. In the meantime, feel free to read the first two and a half pages, which are on last week’s blog post, here.

(And thank you to everyone who emailed me, saying that you’d love to read the rest of the story!)

He was, of course, outside the shop because the door was locked and his key inside. But even that wouldn’t have stopped him a few years ago. As it was, only his determination not to fall back into his old ways kept him from undoing the quite easy-to-pick lock that guarded the back door.

No, what he found ironic was that he was not in the good old USA, not in a city, and not using either his wits or his taekwando skills to make a living. Instead, he was in the Scottish Highlands, staying in a village no bigger than one LA neighborhood, and learning the ancient art of swordsmithing. Definitely not where he thought he’d end up.

What surprised him most was how he liked the life here. The mountains were harsh and unyielding, but beautiful. The people were friendly.

And then there was her. The woman whose song haunted his dreams. Whose face had placed her in danger he’d been privileged to rescue her from. Who’d fled when he asked for her name.

Maybe tonight, if he hung around the grocery store long enough, she’d come back, and he’d see her again.

If his boss would show up so they could start the day’s work early enough to finish before the store closed.

He glanced at his watched and wondered what had happened. Alec was the kind of guy you could depend on. Not the kind of boss to tell you to be at the shop at eleven to start work on a new sword, and then leave you sitting outside on a stone wall for an hour.

He got out his knife and whittled on a piece of wood. He walked half a mile down the road and back again. He weeded the tiny flower bed.

Then he gave up. He was going to open that back door. It wasn’t like he was breaking in. He had been given a key, and Alec probably assumed he’d been smart enough to put it on his keychain.

He hopped off the wall, wiped his hands on his jeans, and sauntered around back. It took him longer than it should have, but finally the latch gave way. He permitted himself a small smile and started to open the door.

Then suddenly, he found an arm around his neck and his own arm pinned behind him.

“Thief!”

The words were muttered in his ear, but he didn’t bother to stop and explain himself. That wasn’t Alec’s voice, and no one else had the right to tackle him here.

He shifted his weight, spun, and found himself surprised when his assailant didn’t land unceremoniously on the ground.

Two seconds later, he realized that whoever this guy was, he knew taekwando as well. And was quite good at it.

He opted for a few moves that fell under the street fighting category, and still found himself equally matched.

Then he found a sword at his throat.

He froze.

Yes, this was a sword smith shop, and there were dozens of swords inside. But that didn’t explain why the guy holding the other end of this one looked so comfortable pointing it at people. No doubt he knew how to do other things with it as well. Things that he, Matthew, should obviously have learned before now.

“What are you doing?” the man demanded. “Trying to—”

“Tristan!” The command exploded from around the corner of the building, and Matthew sighed in relief as Alec appeared. “That’s Matthew, my apprentice!”

The sword dropped, and the guy named Tristan took a step backward.

“What’s going on, Matthew?” Alec asked.

“I left my key inside.”

Alec glanced to the open door, and his eyebrows went up.
…

Anyone interested in more?