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Love Forgotten By Cynthia B. Ainsworthe

Cynthia cover

I want to share an excerpt from my newest novel,  “Remember?”
(book 2, Chapter 1, in Forbidden Series)

“PULL OVER HERE! Now! Quick!” Larry Davis exclaimed. “That face. The woman adjusting the scarf on that mannequin.”

Joe Winton raised his bushy black eyebrows in astonishment. “Chief, what’s goin’ on? You saw a ghost or somethin’?”

“Not a ghost. It’s Taylor! I’m sure of it.” Larry’s eyes remained fixed on the dark haired beauty in the store window. “After all this time and the endless searching, I’ve finally found her in that boutique. In London. Where are we exactly?”

“On a side street in the West End, near Mayfair. Lar, don’t jump the gun.” Joe must have seen his desperation. “It could be someone who looks like Taylor. Remember, Interpol didn’t turn anythin’ up after eighteen months. I’m your bro and your friend, not to mention your right-hand man. I’m only lookin’ out for y’.”

Joe’s words faded as Larry’s mind whirled with anticipation. The limousine driver pulled over to the curb in front of the dress shop. Larry’s heart beat faster as he anticipated reuniting with his lost love. He flung open the door and extended his long legs onto the slush-covered sidewalk. The brisk, cold air reddened his cheeks and a light breeze tousled his dark blond hair.

Joe sighed heavily as he followed his longtime friend to the store entrance. A crowd of fans quickly formed. They had caught sight of their American idol. Larry was oblivious to their squeals and cheers. He focused on his sole quest.

The shop doorbell cheerfully chimed announcing Larry’s entrance. All eyes turned toward his commanding, yet boyish stature, and then settled on his sparkling and piercing blue eyes. The dark-haired woman came from the display window as if curious from all the commotion. Her quizzical eyes froze on the good-looking stranger before her. As voices called out requesting autographs, Larry remained silent and mesmerized at the sight of this woman. He tentatively took a step toward her.

“Tay, is that you?” His voice quivered. “I’ve been looking for you for so long. I can’t believe I’ve finally found you.”

“What did you say?” Her words caught in her throat.

“I said ‘Tay’. Aren’t you Taylor?” Doesn’t she recognize me?

“That’s not my name. I’m Tiffany, Tiffany Bradford.” Her eyes held confusion. She shyly extended her hand.

Autograph seekers closed in around him as he sought her hand. Their fingers met briefly. Larry rejoiced in her fleeting touch. Her fingers slipped away. Joe did his best to hold the British fans at bay as they busily tapped the keys of their cell phones and sent messages on social media to spread the news.

His eyes fixed on hers. Larry didn’t hear the fans bombard him with questions and comments.

“Mr. Davis, may I please have your autograph?”

“How long are you staying in the UK?”

“I just love your music!”

“I’ve been a fan of yours for so many years.”

“Are you recording a new song?”

Joe countered the queries in his usual unflappable style. “Mr. Davis is tourin’ the UK for a couple of weeks. A new song is on the horizon. He loves his British fans. Most likely a return visit will be in the distant future.”

Larry’s voice was soft as he spoke to Tiffany. “I’m sorry. You look so much like a woman I knew.” He tilted his head boyishly. “Funny, you don’t sound English—your accent, I mean.”

“I’m not,” she replied. “I’m American. My home is here in London.”

“How about coming to my concert tonight at the Royal Albert Hall?” Larry turned to Joe. “Give Tiffany one of those backstage passes and that reserved ticket you keep in your pocket.”

Joe did as requested and handed the treasured document to Tiffany. Cheers came from the surrounding fans.

“Thank you Mr. Davis …” She fingered her hair. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to attend. Wouldn’t you rather give this to one of your fans here?”

I know you’re Taylor. You have to be! I don’t understand any of this!

“No. It would make me so happy to see you there tonight at the concert.”. He stumbled over his words, “Please say you’ll be there.”

“Maybe I can make it.” Her blue-green eyes looked up at him with an expression of remote recognition.

“Great!” Joy radiated from Larry. “I’ll be looking for you—front row, center seat.”

“Chief,” Joe interjected. “We need to get back to the hotel. You’ve got a press conference to get to.”

“Yeah,” Larry replied as he continued to look at her. “I’ll leave in a moment. Gotta sign a few autographs first.” I know she’s Taylor. It has to be her!

As he signed various pieces of paper, his eyes returned to her at every chance as if drawn to her beauty by a magical force. A small smile peeked from the corners of her mouth and a faint pink glow came to her cheeks.

Larry’s mind went into a whirlwind. Why doesn’t she recognize me? What is wrong with her? This isn’t at all like Taylor!

“C’mon, Chief,” Joe reminded. “We need to go! Can’t be late for the press.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Larry reached for Tiffany’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m counting on seeing you tonight at the Albert.” He punctuated his last comment with a smile and wink. “I’ll be disappointed if you’re not there.”

Tiffany looked up at him from beneath her long black lashes. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Oohs and aahs rang throughout the room. Larry wedged through the throngs of female admirers.

Larry turned briefly at the entrance and called out to Tiffany, “I’ll be looking for you tonight. Don’t forget.” He quickly left, leaving shoppers buzzing about this impromptu visit from the famous American idol.

© 2015 Cynthia B. Ainsworthe


Cynthia B. Ainsworthe writes suspenseful romance. She has won multiple writing awards. Though she writes mostly romance, her short stories cross many genres. She loves animals and is a parent of five poodle children. Ms. Ainsworthe is currently finalizing Forbidden Footsteps book 3, and writing Dangerous Reach book 4 in her Forbidden Series. A lover of culinary arts, Passion in the Kitchen, is a whimsical approach to French cuisine with delicious recipes, a romantic story thread, and luscious photos of shirtless men.



An excerpt from Trish Jackson’s upcoming unpredictable, eccentric, politically incorrect romantic comedy, Backwoods Boogie, the third in the Twila Taunton, Redneck P.I. Series.


“If someone had told me just a few months ago that soon I’d be sitting in a jumbo jet heading for England, I would have laughed. I mean, me, born and bred in the South and proud to be a redneck. And now here I am. The flight is not completely full and there’s an empty place between me and the weird looking woman on the aisle seat. I stare at her for a while until she gives me a look and I suddenly get interested in finding a movie on the viewer in front of me.

They don’t serve bourbon on this airline, so I drink a couple of beers instead and pour the contents of the miniature bag of pretzels into my mouth. The flight attendant must have noticed, because she brings me another two bags, which don’t stop me from being starved when dinner is served. The aircraft food is okay, but there isn’t enough of it. The dessert is in this little miniature bowl which I finish in one mouthful.

I consider asking if we can get seconds, but I figure we probably can’t, since just about everyone has started watching movies.

I stare at a few of the other passengers, who open out those little miniature blankets and place the tiny pillows under their heads. Do they actually think they’re gonna sleep?

I’ve watched two movies before I decide I’m gonna have to pee. I’ve been hoping I would be able to last the entire flight without going, but the beers probably did it. And when you gotta go, you gotta go.

It’s not that easy to get to the bathrooms. First, if you have a window seat like me, you have to wake the woman in the aisle seat. I tap her on the shoulder. She is snoring pretty well, so the people around us must be thankful even if she isn’t. “Gotta go pee,” I tell her.

“Wha…? Oh. Oh,” she says and pulls the blanket off her legs and slides out into the aisle. I squeeze past her just as the aircraft hits a bump. I don’t understand how air can be bumpy, but I fall face-first onto the dude in the next aisle seat along. I mean, my mouth is right over his privates and he’s just lucky I don’t bite down. When I come up for air he has both his hands up above his head, as if to show people he ain’t doing anything wrong. Just getting an impromptu blow job.

The PA system crackles and the captain’s voice comes over it.

“We’re experiencing a bit of turbulence. Please take your seats and put your seat belts on.”

I hold onto the back of the dude’s chair and haul myself off him. We hit another bump and I crash into a woman on my side of the aisle. She throws me a dirty look. I’m not making much progress and wonder if I’ll ever get to the restroom. It seems to be very far away all of a sudden.

“Sorry Ma’am,” a flight attendant bars my way. “Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt.”

The airplane is really bucking now, and it reminds me of the new mechanical bull Ricci and Tina put in the Hogs Waller. “I have to pee,” I say and crash into her, knocking her off her feet. I land on top of her in the aisle. It takes a while for me to untangle myself and scramble to my feet. Another flight attendant glares at me and helps her co-worker up. I try to push past them, but now there are two of them blocking me.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll just pee right here then, if that’s the way you want it.” I unbutton my pants. That gets them moving and I walk-crash to the restroom, waking up anyone who wasn’t already awake on my way.

When I finally get there, I heave a sigh of relief that it isn’t occupied. There isn’t a lot of space in it and it takes me a while to figure out how to lock the door. The toilet smells bad. The blue water inside it is slopping around quite a lot and I wait until a bump throws me toward the seat and I manage to land sitting on it. I find myself hoping the water isn’t gonna slop up and wet my ass.

I don’t have much time to savor that feeling of relief though. I’m beginning to get a little worried about whether we’re gonna make it out of this storm or whatever it is.

The captain wasn’t kidding when he told us it was gonna get turbulent.

I flush and make my way back to my seat, getting quite personal with a number of passengers, and reminding myself never to sit in an aisle seat. I heave a big sigh of relief when I finally manage to get back into my own seat and buckle up. Rain is pelting the outside of the window.

The turbulence sticks around for a while, but finally things get smooth again and the fasten seat belt lights go off.


Backwoods Boogie is scheduled to be released on November 14th, 2014. Apart from the comedy aspect, it also has a serious message about animal abuse and puppy mills in the US, and 20% of all the author’s proceeds will be donated to the ASPCA to help them in their fight to save dogs that live their entire lives in squalor in small cages and without veterinary attention.

Trish Jackson also writes serious and emotive romantic suspense, focusing on small towns, country folk and their animals. www.trishjax.com