Chasing Shadows by Cat Jameson

Chasing Shadows

 by Cat Jameson

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Book Blurb:

Annie O’Toole is a St. Louis Public Defender, passionate about fighting for the underdog and determined to prove herself as the badass trial lawyer she knows she can be.  Getting assigned to defend the kid charged with shooting billionaire businessman, Michael Grayson, is a big step up for her career. At least until the hot guy she seduced at the Justice for All Ball shows up at her office in response to her deposition subpoena. Turns out the sexy stranger who introduced himself only as ‘Mick’, the guy she’s been fantasizing about since slipping away while he slept — is none other than Michael Grayson. 

 

She’s horrified. He’s furious. He thinks she set him up. She thinks he’s an arrogant ass in a Savile Row suit. Sparks, intrigue, and bullets fly in a mix of swoon and suspense as the two battle each other, the bad guys, and an off-limits attraction neither can ignore. When the evidence leads back into Michael’s inner corporate circle, the two are plunged into a world of international intrigue, corporate espionage, and murder — with a side dish of unresolved family drama as Annie is forced to turn to the only expert in corporate intrigue she knows, her own uber-wealthy, estranged grandmother.  Now all she has to do is solve the case, escape her grandmother’s plans to take over her life (again), and save her client, her career, and the man whose lifestyle she despises . . . and whose touch she can’t forget.  

 Excerpt:

“So why are you moping around like somebody killed your dog? I mean Darrow's okay, right?”  

“Darrow is fine. I am fine. Everyone is fine,” Annie snapped. Then unable to stop herself, the rest bubbled out, fast and frustrated. “You want to know why I'm moping around? I’ll tell you why I’m moping around. I met the man of my dreams and had the most spectacular sex of my life.”  

Jonathan choked on his iced coffee.  

Annie plunged on, staring morosely into her latte. “I don’t know his name, where he lives, where he works, or have any way to contact him. He doesn’t know my name, where I live, or have any way to contact me. We're two barges passing on that damn river. One headed upstream, one down. Doomed to never meet again.”  

“Whoa…” Jonathan wheezed, sucking air back into his lungs. “What the hell are you talking about?”  

She dumped the whole spectacular, sordid story. To his credit, he listened without interrupting until she slumped back in her chair and drained the last of her latte.   

Then he said, “So that's it? That's what you've been moping around about for two weeks?” She sighed again and nodded.   

“Okay.”   

She waited for the follow-up, but it never came.   

“That's it? Just, ‘okay?’”  

“What do you want me to say?”  

“I don't know. Something.”  

“Look. You’re not dying, your dog’s not dying, nobody’s dying. You hooked up with some guy, had a great time, and are wishing you could do it again. Postcoital depression. I get it.” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “But if you are in need of… relief… I am willing to sacrifice myself for the cause.”   

She threw a sugar packet at him. “It’s not just about getting laid, asshole—and even if it was, your train left this station years ago and it’s not coming back.”   

He shrugged. “Not my fault you missed your chance.”   

She glared. “And not mine that our one kiss had all the spark of a wet firework.”  

He wagged a finger at her. “I happen to be a great kisser. I can give you a long list of references to back that up.”  

She held up a hand. “Spare me your resume, Romeo. Been there, done that. And that assessment was mutual, if you recall.”  

He shrugged. “Truth. But I’m still willing to help out a friend in a pinch.”   

She rolled her eyes.   

He dropped the teasing. “So, what’s got you so wrapped up about this guy?”  

She stared out the window, mulling the question. Finally, she said, “Remember the Fourth of July fireworks over the Mississippi—that incredible grand finale set to classical music performed by the symphony?”   

One eyebrow lifted. “Yeah…”  

“It was that.”  

“Well, shit.”  

“Exactly.”  

Author Bio:

Why do I write romance? Romance novels got me through law school. Admittedly, they weren’t much help in learning Torts or Tax Law, but when that last exam of each semester was done and I emerged from the law library blinking in the sunlight like Punxsutawny Phil on Groundhog Day, romance novels made me whole.  I’d devour them, one after another, letting my bruised and abused brain cells rest and recoup in the warm bath of a well-written romance. 

 

When I became a criminal defense lawyer and my crazy hours shifted from the law library to jails, prisons, and courtrooms — romance novels balanced the grit of my everydays.  High stakes and suspense make for great stories, but actually living them? Let’s just say I needed those happily-ever-afters more than ever. I owe romance novels for picking me up off the ground more times than I count. So, when I got the chance to actually WRITE them?  How could I not jump at that? 

 

I’ve been writing stories since I was a kid.  (Totally freaked out my mom when she found one of my early creations and mistook it for a diary entry and . . . well obviously, my ‘life’ contained a lot more drama than she’d ever noticed. Ha!) And of course, I’ve spent a lot of years writing legal briefs and law journal articles. (Woot! Or . . . er . . . not.) But the chance to write for FUN?  I’m SOOOOOO in. 

 

So here we are: My Chapter Three.  (Oh, did I forget to mention the whole owning-a-metaphysical-bookstore in there, too?  Yeah, that was Chapter Two. So, murder and magic — my two careers to date! I mean, really. How can there NOT be a novel in there?) 

 

Anyway, I’m so very glad to have you along for the ride and the reads. Whatever stuff is going on in your lives, may my books make your days a little bit brighter, calmer, funnier, sexier, more happily-ever-after-er — like so many of the authors I relied on did for me.  After all, life is all about paying it forward, right??