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About the author:
MEGAN RIVERS is a writer who graduated from Northern Michigan University with a degree in writing and literature. She currently lives in Illinois with her spoiled pup, Gracie. When not writing, she loves to visit thrift stores, bask in the outdoors, read books, or cook delectable vegan dishes. Her website is www.meganrivers.weebly.com. You can also follow her on Facebook @MeganRiversAuthor, on Pinterest at pinterest.com/meganriversauth, or on Instagram at MeganRiversAuthor.
What inspired you to write your book?
A plane ride from LAX to Chicago nearly seventeen years ago.
Here is a short sample from the book:
The next morning I hopped on a bus to the train station and headed to New York. Galvin was staying at a hotel not far from Penn Station while attending a charity benefit the previous night and taking care of other business before getting back to work on the new album.
After what seemed like thousands of miles of travel, I approached the door of his room at his hotel. I heard loud voices from the other side, but continued to knock despite them. Moments later he opened the door with his cell phone plastered to his ear. The second his eyes fell upon me, they softened, it was like watching a magic trick. He smiled and waved me in, cupping the phone. “I’ll only be a minute,” he whispered. “Sit down and get a drink.”
I sat down on the closest chair, which had his guitar case leaning against it. “No, that’s not what I said,” his voice became firmer. He held up a finger to me, indicating he’d be with me in a minute, and gave me a half-hearted smile. As he walked around the corner to the bedroom area where I heard his voice rise and fall several times.
The sight of his acoustic guitar made my mind wander to Melbourne memories and I smiled remembering how Galvin’s face softened with serenity when playing the guitar for no one but himself; it truly made him happy. Those nights seemed like years ago, not months ago.
“I’m sorry, love,” Galvin said walking back into the room, pocketing his cell phone. He pulled me into his arms, giving me a kiss. “Welcome to New York.” Another kiss. “How was the train? I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you at the station.”
“Well, I haven’t been mugged, pick-pocketed, or kidnapped, so I think the Big City favors me.” I smiled up at him, my arms wrapped around his back. I had forgotten how whole he made me feel.
“I’m sure it does, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to Christie-nap you.”
“Oh, really?” I lifted an eyebrow. “And what is Christie-napping?”
A sly grin spread across his face. “First, I abduct a Christie.” He scooped me up in his arms. I put my arms around his neck and matched his smile.
“I take her to a foreign place, of course.” He walked around the corner and gently tossed me onto the mussed bedsheets.
“And this is a foreign place?” I asked, looking up at him.
He crawled on top of me and I flushed with warmth.
“Mm-hmm,” he said, kissing my forehead, my nose, my lips. “You’ve never been here before.” He began kissing my neck, his hands traveling.
“Is one supposed to enjoy a Christie-napping?” I asked, breathing heavily.
He began to unbutton my shirt, smiling. “I hope so,” he replied then his kisses started traveling down my neck.
Things started to get heated and I wasn’t going to say no this time. I reached for his belt buckle, filled with excitement, anticipation and terror… and then the hotel room phone rang from the table beside us. Loudly. Like a referee’s whistle calling a time out.
Galvin dropped his head onto the pillow and groaned. He reached for the phone. “Hello? Okay, thank-you.” He hung up and kissed my lips. “I’ll have to Christie-nap you another time, I’m afraid. The car is here to take us to the airport.” We grudgingly put ourselves back together and went downstairs.