| Copyright © 2007, Ann
Patrick Reviews For MODEL IN FLIGHT by Ann Patrick "From the first, I had a very hard
time warming up to Willow’s character. She is a snob, and remained
so for far too long. She was a little wishy-washy in her feelings and
never seemed to be able to think for herself, instead letting others
dictate her actions. It is only when Taj stops being so obnoxious that
she begins to see the real man hiding beneath the brash exterior. He
hides behind a "devil-may-care", reckless persona, all the
while nursing a wounded soul. A different spin on the "across the
tracks" subgenre, Willow and Taj seem so mismatched it makes the
reader wonder what the author is thinking. "Whew!
This book steams with attraction between the main characters. There
is a connection between Willow and Taj that is irresistible and undeniable. Sample Chapter For MODEL
IN FLIGHT by Ann Patrick
Prologue “There down to your left, Taj, I can see some markers.” “Oh no, not on the highway again. I hope they’ve stopped all traffic. The last time we had to land on the road, we nearly had an accident ourselves.” “They’ve assured me that all traffic has been stopped.” “Hang on then. I’m putting her down.” Slowly the helicopter descended into the darkness, then with a shudder, it settled onto the hard asphalt. Not waiting until the rotors had stopped turning, both the crewman and paramedic dove out of the craft and headed across the road to where they could see the flashing red and blue lights, followed by the pilot as soon as he had the ’copter secure. “What have we got?” The men approached the EMS personnel situated alongside what had once been two fairly modern motor vehicles, but which were now a twisted pile of metal. “Two dead and two badly injured; one of them a male child of approximately three; the other a female, possibly his mother.” Taj’s heart missed a beat. He hated his job when it involved children. Far too often, they didn’t make it to hospital. “How bad is he?” “He’s lost a lot of blood, but I think we’ve got him stabilized.” “And the other?” Taj stepped forward to view both victims of the car crash. “She’s holding her own at the moment, but it’ll be touch and go. She’s lost a lot of blood and has, I suspect, internal injuries.” “Then we’d better get them loaded up.” Leaving the other men to organize details, the crewman hurried back to his helicopter to unload the portable stretchers. Minutes later, the helicopter lifted off and headed back into the city. * * * * “Belmont Hospital. Sister Blair speaking.” “This is Taj Holland.” “Taj. I wondered how long it would be before we heard from you. I guess you’re ringing up about last night’s crash victims?” “Yes. How are they doing?” “The woman died.” From the other end of the phone, Sister Blair heard a sound, which sounded like a sob, but she made no comment and continued, “The little boy is still critical but stable.” “Will he pull through?” “We hope so, but the next twenty-four hours are going to be touch and go. If he makes it through them without any setbacks, then I’d guess he’ll be okay.” “Has he got family with him?” “His grandmother arrived this morning, and I believe an auntie is coming tomorrow. Having lost both his parents in this crash, he’s going to need all the support he can get.” “Can I call and see him?” “Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Actually, the staff was just asking when you’d be in.” “As usual, you’ll keep this quiet.” “We will, but why you don’t want anyone to know you care is beyond me.” “It wouldn’t go with my image you know.” Although she couldn’t see his face, Sister Blair could hear the hint of laughter in his voice, but before she could comment, Taj continued, “Just imagine what my friends would say if they could see me worrying about a small boy.” “How you can call those people you associate with your friends, I’ll never know,” Sister Blair reprimanded. “Not another lecture.” “Do you ever take any notice? Your lifestyle outside the service leaves a lot to be desired, young man. People would take you more seriously if you’d change it. You mark my words, one day, you’ll regret not having cleaned up your act.” “Wow! Get that body.” An angry red hue crept up Willow’s face and neck. Was one foolish mistake going to haunt her forever? When would she finally escape from that slightly out-of-the-ordinary modeling assignment? For weeks she had been on the receiving
end of crude and suggestive comments. Spinning around, she faced her tormentor, expecting to see a rough, uncouth, teenage male. To her surprise, he was far from a teenager and one of the most ruggedly handsome men she had seen in a long time. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she took in his appearance. Tight, well-washed jean shorts that looked as if they had been attacked with a pair of blunt scissors hugged his long muscular body, emphasizing every husky line. A too short T-shirt clung to his muscular chest. Willow’s glance slid upward to linger on his handsome face. Unshaven, he should have looked disreputable, but the dark stubble shadowing his face only added to his attractiveness. She gulped back a sigh of admiration and tried to bolster up the anger that had been foremost in her mind when she had first looked at him. To her dismay, she couldn’t seem to think of anything but how good-looking he was and what he did to her pulse. “Come on, beautiful lady, give me one of those famous smiles. Please!” he taunted with a grin that had Willow’s heart racing even faster, and caused a group of people lingering on the sidewalk to chuckle at his audacity. The cheekier of the onlookers called out encouragement. Again Willow felt hot color flooding her face as anger and embarrassment erased the momentary attraction she had felt for the man. Lifting her head a fraction higher, she glared angrily at him, her eyes flashing sparks of hatred across the space between them. “Will you leave me alone, or I’ll—” she began, only to stammer to a halt as a disarming grin spread across the man’s face. Angrily, she bit back the rest of her words. She would not lose her composure, and especially not for someone as rude and uncouth as this character. As if aware of her inner battle, the man flashed her another smile, but one completely different from his former grin. This time it contained an invitation, sensual and suggestive. Shaken by what she saw written all over his face, Willow took a step back. The anger she had been feeling at his verbal attack began to reassert itself, but it faded before it had begun as the very sensual message began to work on her emotions. Her heartbeat began to accelerate, sending her blood pounding through her veins at an alarming rate. Her breathing rate increased. Why is this happening to me? This man is everything I despise. He represents everything I loathe. To her dismay, she found herself glancing at him again and studying him more closely. Dressed all in black, from the ripped shorts and short T-shirt, to the worn leather jacket, he was a man who would warrant a second glance from any warm-blooded woman, be she young or old. Dark brown hair, tinged with just a hint of red, clung damply to his well-shaped head, and tumbled over his collar in unruly confusion. In complete contrast, the top was cut short and spiky in the style Willow had seen on many young men around town. To her horror, she found her thoughts drifting to how those vibrant strands would feel running through her fingers. For a brief moment, she longed to find out if they were as soft to the touch as they looked. Hard on that thought came another of complete stupidity. He was a stranger and a very rude one at that. She should not be thinking about him at all. With a superhuman effort, she managed to wipe those very dangerous thoughts from her mind and continue her study of him. His unshaven state made her cringe anew. She knew it was common among the “in” set at the moment to affect this kind of look, but it had never really appealed to her. She preferred the clean-shaven look. Or she had until… Again Willow had to pull herself up short. Her thoughts were spiraling out of control once more. She had to stop this stupidity, but despite the self-recrimination, she found her gaze drifting back towards the man. Long, muscular, darkly-tanned legs stretched out before him as he leaned nonchalantly against the lamppost with his arms crossed in front of him, a pose that did nothing to hide the broad expanse of chest. Willow’s glance slid back to his face and to her horror, she found herself on the receiving end of a very intense look from a pair of midnight blue eyes. Eyes that seemed to strip the very soul from her body; eyes that failed to hide the pleasure he got from looking at her; eyes that suggested things she didn’t want to know about. A horrified gasp escaped her lips. As if galvanized into action by the look of sheer bewilderment and horror that passed over Willow’s face, the man’s countenance softened. With a smile, he pushed away from the lamppost and took a step towards her. But his sudden movement was enough to push Willow into action. Flashing him a look of loathing, she spun on her heels and dashed into the nearest shop. The sound of an amused chuckle floated after her. Although she had escaped his presence, to her disgust, Willow could not forget the man or the way he had looked at her. Nor could she forget the embarrassment she felt at being made a spectacle of in the middle of a busy city street. Inside the shop, she took refuge behind a display stand, hoping to gain some much-needed time to bring herself and her emotions under control before she had to venture outside once more. Deep, ragged breaths whistled from between her lips as she tried to push those few minutes of torture from her mind. Time and time again, her thoughts returned to the man, his rude comments, and more especially, the sensuality in his eyes as he had returned her scrutiny. It was as if he had been trying to transmit a message to her. A message Willow had no trouble interpreting. A message her body had responded to immediately, but which her mind refused to acknowledge. She did not associate with men of his caliber. Not ever! Taking another deep, cleansing breath, she cautiously pulled open the door and peered out into the street. To her relief, there was no sign of the man. * * * * “You’re late.” The words drifted towards Willow the minute she pushed open the large oak door and stepped inside the agency building. “Our appointment was for half past one, not two o’clock.” “Sorry, Penny, I was delayed. I hope I haven’t held everyone up.” Willow sank into the seat in front of the desk and ran slightly shaky hands through her long, silver-blonde hair. “Lucky for you, Doug is running late too.” Getting to her feet, the woman moved around the side of the desk towards Willow. “You look flustered. Someone or something upset you?” “It’s nothing.” “Nothing? For you to lose your composure, something more than nothing had to happen. What or who ruffled your feathers?” Pushing her glasses up into her black, slightly gray-streaked hair, the older woman dropped into a chair on the same side of the desk as Willow. “Tell Auntie Penny everything; I’m a very good listener.” “It was nothing,” Willow repeated her former statement, but then as she saw Penny’s eyebrows rise in disbelief, added, “okay, so I admit someone did upset me. But it wasn’t anything major. He…they’ve…it’s over now.” “He?” “A guy yelled out some rather loud, suggestive comments in the middle of the street. I guess I overreacted.” “He threatened you?” Penny demanded angrily, jumping to her feet, her hackles raised. “No. Far from it. I didn’t feel at all threatened. In fact…I guess he’d seen that awful promotion I did for those satin sheets and thought he’d see if I was receptive to a little flirting.” “I knew that sheet promotion was a mistake. I wish I hadn’t been persuaded to recommend you for it. But I thought you said you could handle the rude, adverse comments. What made these different?” “I don’t know exactly.” “Tell me about the guy.” “There’s not a lot to tell. He was quite good-looking. Actually, I guess you could say he was very good-looking in a tousled, unkempt way.” “What did he say to upset you?” “It wasn’t what he said exactly, but where he chose to say it. Being yelled at in the middle of a city street at lunchtime is very embarrassing.” “So why didn’t you deal with his rude comments like you usually do? It’s unusual for you to let someone get away with rudeness. Could it be that you were attracted to the man?” “Like hell,” Willow exploded angrily. “He’s not my type at all!” “Me thinks the girl protests too much,” Penny teased. Then, when anger flashed across Willow’s face, she added, “Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. But I’m curious to know why this guy had such an effect on you.” To Willow’s relief, before she had time to answer, the phone on the wide oak desk began to ring. Slanting a puzzled look at her companion, Penny leaned over and picked up the receiver. “Penny Morrison. Yes… Okay, we’ll be right there.” Replacing the telephone, she turned back to Willow. “The photographer has arrived. He’s waiting in the studio.” Pushing to her feet, Willow followed the woman from the room. Photographic modeling was part of a job she loved very much; one she took seriously and wanted to do well at. Everything was pushed aside when she was working, and hopefully the image of a very disturbing rude man would be as well. |