Ginger's Heart (A Modern Fairytale, #3)

Savannah nodded, gloom encroaching. Derby was right. She didn’t have anything.

“But Maddox McNabb, our editor, he’s all about hot scoops and he loves that you’re coming from a New York background. He can be a little heavy on the edits, but I haven’t had any complaints so far. He makes a good story more sensational, and at least a quarter get picked up on the national news wire.”

“Wow. Great numbers. Sounds like he’s got the magic touch.”

“Like I said, no complaints. Anyway, he needs a piece. Something big and heart-tugging and personal in time for the Fourth of July. That’s, uh, five weeks from now. Think veterans. Think returning soldier dad home in time for the big Fourth of July barbecue. Small-town Americana stuff that makes every reader cry before breaking out in a chorus of ‘America the Beautiful.’ How you write it is up to you, but Maddox wants updates every Friday from now until the second. If he likes it, he’ll run it on the front of Lifestyles on the Fourth, and let’s just say he’d probably like to see you in Phoenix soon after.”

Savannah’s brain whirled, but she could feel the excitement gathering inside her. No, human interest wasn’t her forte, but she could change that. She’d write the best goddamn piece of lifestyle Americana the Phoenix Times had ever seen.

“I’m all over it. Tell Maddox he’ll have the idea and the first installment by next Friday. Six days.”

“I knew you’d bite,” said Derby, her voice laced with approval. “I’ll e-mail you with Maddox’s info. The rest is all you.”

Savannah shook her head, smiling into the phone, marveling at second chances that came from unexpected places, and determined not to squander this chance. “Derby, I don’t know how to thank you. Really. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Hey, I’m not Mother Teresa. You come work here? I figure you owe me a few more of those late-night sessions cracking stories. I sure wouldn’t mind another Sunshine Award.”

“You got it,” Savannah said with feeling. “Anything I can ever do for you, all you have to do is shout.”

“I hope you don’t regret that offer,” said Derby, “because I promise I’ll be collecting.”

Savannah chuckled and exchanged information with her guardian angel, thanking her again for reaching out and sending her thanks to Maddox for the chance. When she hung up the phone, the sun was even lower, aggressively gold on the horizon, brightening the hills beyond her small neighborhood.

She squinted, her eyes pulled to the grand, old Victorian house straight ahead, about two miles away, up on the hillside.

Asher Lee’s house.

The front door of her own house opened, and Scarlet appeared dressed in an adorable cotton candy–pink sundress, modestly covered with a mint-green cardigan.

“Hey, Scarlet,” Savannah said, still staring at the massive brown house in the distance. “What do we know about Asher Lee?”

“Asher Lee?” Scarlet fanned herself as she followed her sister’s gaze into the distant hills like her sister. “Some folks call him “Hermit” Lee. Poor thing. Used to be a big-time football star over at Danvers High. But he got his face and hand blown off in some war, and no one’s seen him for a million years. He got real strange when he came home, refusin’ to go into town, hirin’ Miss Potts to be his maid. No one’s seen him in almost a decade. Nobody knows what he does up there, but there’s the normal fiddle-faddle about the bogeyman and such. Really, it’s easier just to forget he’s up there. It’s just so awkward and sad.”

“Have you ever seen him?”

Scarlet shook her head pursing her lips and looking away from the old brown mansion. “Why are you so interested?”

Savannah turned to her sister, cocking her head to the side. “I think it’s about time someone showed a little Southern hospitality to our very own wounded veteran.”

“What’re you up to, Vanna?”

“Nothing bad, little sister, don’t trouble yourself. I just wonder if he’d like to tell his side of the story.”

“Leave him be. All he wants is his privacy.”

“Not if he’s got a story to tell, Miss Scarlet. Not if he has a story he’d like the world to know.”





a m o d e r n f a i r y t a l e

beloved fairy tales ? modern love stories



The Vixen and the Vet

2015 RITA? Finalist

2015 Kindle Book Review Finalist

(inspired by Beauty & the Beast)

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WHERE LIGHTNING STRIKES

a Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel A.L. Jackson



Prologue



Bright lights blinded from above and gleamed against the stark white floor. I hurtled down the narrow hall, desperate for escape.

With every pounding step, I felt the separation grow. A chasm rending and ripping until I felt myself splitting in two.

Gasping for breath, I stumbled out of the building and into the vacancy of the deep, deep night. Wind gusted, tumbling along the surface of the ground, a stir of agitation at my feet.

Above, the storm raged. Clouds dark and heavy and ominous.