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Gateway to Heaven
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Life is rough when you're gorgeous, rich, talented and so sexy that the media won't leave you alone.
It's certainly the truth in Christian Lasher's case. He returns to the neighborhood of his childhood to escape the spotlight, hungering for a change in his creative endeavors. In the midst of his soul searching he meets Megan and is captured by the tantalizing hint of her hidden fires. Megan knows nothing about his wild, rebellious youth or his career as a rock star—and Christian would prefer to keep it that way.
There was much, much more to her than the role of a fragile victim.
Megan Shreve is a sculptor with creative depths and passions that tragedy had forced into the shadows. When she looks into Christian's eyes she sees herself for the first time as an exciting, sexy woman. She longs to discover more of herself in Christian's arms and in his bed.
Two passionate souls destined for one another—unless the stifling roles imposed by tragedy and fame rip them apart.
Read an Excerpt
Chapter 1
Christian Lasher stilled like a predator that had just sited unexpected prey when he casually glanced over Father Gregory's shoulder. His eyelids narrowed over a pair of blue eyes a female reporter from Rolling Stone had once described as being equally as adept at giving the impression of stripping away the protection of a woman's clothing as they were at drilling straight through her outer facade to her very soul. The same reporter had added that, much to the regret of a brokenhearted collection of discarded lovers, Lasher seemed to prefer what he saw in the former instance much more than what he saw in the latter one.
Father Gregory apparently didn't notice Christian's sudden absorption as he continued to pump his hand, extolling his thanks for the hundredth time that afternoon. "The parish, and especially the children, will be eternally grateful to you once again, Christian. The proceeds from this year's festival will not only make it possible for us to finally purchase a new gymnasium, but also to hire a full-time art teacher, something we sorely need."
Christian glanced solicitously back at the elderly priest, but his eyes returned to their target almost immediately. "I guess it's the least I can do to make up for putting that skunk in Sister Elizabeth's desk drawer back in the sixth grade."
Father Gregory's broad smile faltered, as did his vigorous shaking of Christian's hand. For a brief moment, his voice became as stern as the one Christian recalled from his grade school days. "Christian, you were responsible for that? We couldn't use that classroom for a month."
Christian's grin was nearly as devilish as it had been back when he was a twelve-year-old hellion. "Yeah, and I don't think Sister Elizabeth ever got the smell of skunk out of her habit either, although I know she wore the same one every Tuesday until I graduated the eighth grade." Before Father Gregory could make a predictable comment about Sister Elizabeth's years of dedicated service to St. Catherine's, Christian continued. "Who's she?"
The object of his interest was bending over to speak in a soothing voice into the tear-streaked face of a brown-haired child. Not the same little girl Christian had seen her with in the park next to St. Catherine's or in the lobby of his loft condominium. Not the little girl whose white-blonde hair was two shades lighter than her mother's and who shared the same red bow of a mouth and sparkling green eyes. The little girl Christian had seen her with on at least three other occasions was too young to be of school age.
Despite the almost Quaker-like conservatism of her dress, Christian thought she might be one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. He had no right to find her so appealing. He'd seen her repeatedly with the little girl. Christian had already noticed that she wasn't wearing a ring, but that was never proof of anything. Cecilia used to forget to put on her wedding ring once in a while. There were a million reasons this young woman may not be wearing one.
Christian Lasher didn't do married women. Not his thing. Never had been.
He'd returned to his hometown of Chicago for a sabbatical during this stressful, painful period of his career. He needed a sanctuary to lose himself for a while…maybe to find himself again. The last thing he wanted was to get involved with a woman who was either married or by the look of her clothes, a step away from the nunnery.
When he was a student here, hadn't all of the teachers been nuns?
But then Christian recalled the way her eyes had widened when he'd intentionally held her gaze yesterday in the condominium lobby. In that brief meeting of their gazes, he'd seen passion secretly encased in all of that innocent softness, that sea of soothing calm. He doubted she even knew it existed. Christian admonished himself for it but he couldn't seem to stifle the impulse.
He wanted to cause some serious waves in that calm sea.
"Ah, perfect. That's Megan Shreve, our art teacher. We got her almost fresh out of graduate school. You'll be able to personally meet one of the people your performance will directly benefit. After the St. Catherine's block party in a few weeks, we'll be able to offer Megan a fulltime position," Father Gregory said enthusiastically as he began to start over to the young woman.
He paused and looked up in surprise when Christian stopped him firmly with a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't tell her about all that. Just tell her I'm a St. Cat's alum back for a friendly visit. Come on, Father, it's not like I'm asking you to lie or anything," Christian added compellingly when he saw Father Gregory's hesitation.
Father Gregory gave a conspiratorial nod. Christian knew the priest had assumed he wanted to keep his identity secret due to modesty, a desire for anonymity in his charitable acts. That was part of it, but his primary reason was a lot more mercenary.
He doubted the depraved hard-rocker type would impress Megan Shreve. Not that he was depraved. Not that he wanted to impress this slip of a female.
As Christian got near enough to her to capture her fresh floral scent, he was man enough to acknowledge that at least one of his self-assurances was a lie.
Megan sighed as she straightened and sent Lori Hunt on her way, the tears on the little girl's face replaced by a hopeful smile. She unconsciously rubbed tense muscles at the back of her neck, mentally grateful that it was a Friday and she didn't have to worry about school for a few days. It would be a relief not to have to divide her attention. It wasn't that she hadn't loved taking care of Emily, her sister's four-year-old daughter, every afternoon and evening for the past week while Hilary had been at a sales conference and Terry, her brother-inlaw, worked late. She'd actually loved it. But keeping up with a four-year-old when you weren't used to it could be a challenge.
She almost groaned out loud when she recalled that she'd volunteered to keep Emily for the weekend while Terry went on a golf outing in Galena with friends. She turned around when she heard Father Gregory's voice behind her. "Crisis thwarted with Miss Hunt, I see."
Megan returned Father Gregory's smile. "The vase she made for a…Mother's Day gift collapsed in the kiln." Halfway through her explanation, Megan became aware that Father Gregory wasn't alone. Her gaze traveled up to meet the eyes of the tall man with burnished brown hair who stood broodingly next to the priest. When their gazes met, Megan started in recognition. The man's stare was unapologetically direct and just as unforgettable as it had been yesterday.
It had the same effect on her today.
She glanced rapidly down the considerable length of him, taking in the crisp, white t-shirt with the worn logo on one side that enigmatically read Velvet Funk, the soft, unbuttoned shirt he wore over it and hadn't bothered to tuck into a pair of well-washed and worn jeans. His general appearance emphasized not only an obvious disregard when it came to impressing other people but a potent masculinity.
Megan glanced away. "I told Lori I would fire her replacement in the kiln at my Earth class. She'll still make Mother's Day," she finished breathlessly.
"Earth is where Megan gives classes in sculpture. She's a very gifted artist. Megan Shreve, I'd like you to meet Christian Lasher."
Christian knew his face gave nothing away as he studied her while Father Gregory made introductions. He hadn't missed her look of embarrassment or the telltale blush that deepened the color of her fair complexion when Father Gregory praised her talent. He should have stopped his eyes from following the fascinating trail of that blush as it lowered across the regal column of her neck and the inch or two of skin exposed at her chest.
He should have, but he didn't.
His gaze lingered. The white cotton blouse she wore was the epitome of modest good taste. Even Sister Elizabeth would have approved of how high she'd buttoned it and there could be no complaints about its tightness against her slender figure. Once again, there was no wedding ring in evidence. As a matter of fact, the only jewelry adorning her flawless skin was a small pair of pearl studs in her ears.
So why did Christian think that the way the crisp blouse ghosted her breasts, hinting at their surprising fullness, the way it revealed those delicious few inches of flushed, dewy skin above its conservative collar, made it the most feminine, sexy garment he'd ever seen? Weren't pearl earrings a common, modest choice for women's jewelry? So why did he have an overwhelming urge to experience what Megan Shreve's pearls felt like pressed between his tongue and lips?
Megan forced herself to look back up into Christian's face when Father Gregory introduced him, but his attention wasn't on her face. He must have noticed the way her breasts rose in agitation, because his gaze dragged unhurriedly back up her chest and neck before resting on her parted lips. Did he know that her breath had just caught and held with a nameless, newly born anticipation?
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Shreve."
Megan tried to ignore the shiver that ran through her arm and tickled her neck when Christian Lasher took her hand. She couldn't have said if it was the touch of his skin next to hers or the compelling sound of his voice. It sounded deep, a little raspy, and as resonant as a finely-tuned instrument. She leaned back too abruptly when she realized that her body had swayed forward, mindlessly spellbound by the contrast of masculinity and tenderness in that voice.
Christian didn't miss the way her gaze skittered nervously toward Father Gregory as if she'd just been caught doing something red-handed that she'd probably never had to bring to the confessional in the past. Only the handful of people who really knew Christian Lasher would have recognized the fact that the infinitesimally small shift of his lips connoted a smile.
"You went to St. Cat's? Me, too. What years were you here?" Megan asked conversationally when Father Gregory mentioned that Christian was a former student.
"Too many years before you to count, I can imagine," he said sardonically, but Megan only saw the warmth of his unexpected smile. He'd seemed so serious before, so intense.
Megan found herself relaxing a little at the sight of his engaging grin, the sudden contrast of white, even teeth against sundarkened skin.
"Not too many years, Christian," Father Gregory corrected authoritatively. "When you're as old as me, a decade or so is a drop in the bucket. The Lashers lived only a few blocks away from your parents, Megan, until they moved to Evanston…what was that, ten years ago, Christian?"
Christian nodded, instinctively knowing that the approximate timing was right. It was eleven years ago that Lasher Down got their first big break premiering with the first of seven albums, all of which had since gone platinum. Sometime soon afterwards, he'd had the financial means to help his parents buy their dream home in Evanston.
"I think Megan's older sister Hilary was too far ahead of you in school. Does the name Hilary Shreve sound familiar?" Christian shook his head.
"Do you like living here in the neighborhood where you grew up?" Megan asked. When she smiled up at him Christian didn't have the heart to tell her that he wasn't a die-hard loyal, near west-side Chicagoan, like she was.
Or maybe he was. Chicago would always be his true home. Even though he owned a small home in Brentwood, California and a large recording studio in Los Angeles, he'd made a point of buying a condominium in downtown Chicago in the neighborhood near the park where he'd hit his first homerun, in walking distance from the high school from which he'd graduated, and a relatively short cab or L ride away from the bars and clubs where he'd first experienced the thrill of performing his own music.
Christian liked Chicago's honesty, the way it embodied the integrity of the workingman's spirit, something that he had always respected about his own father even if he'd followed a very different path.
So instead of correcting her assumption, he only raised his eyebrows a fraction, an unspoken question. When he saw her cheeks flush again, he knew that she'd read his thoughts perfectly.
"Oh…I recognized you. I…I think you live in my building." Megan swallowed with difficulty when he just continued to spear her with his unsettling stare. "748 West Adams? You do live there, right? I thought I'd seen you."
For Megan, the few seconds before he answered dragged on for an eternity. The moment when their eyes had randomly met yesterday obviously hadn't scorched an indelible place in his memory as it had hers.
"It was yesterday afternoon in the lobby. You were wearing a pink sweater. The little girl you were with was wearing pink, too." Christian leaned toward her slightly. "She was as cute as you are, in a completely different way of course."
Megan's mouth fell open at his matter-of-fact recital of facts. His voice sounded light and amused, but his eyes bore into her with an alarming intimacy. Didn't he realize that her boss—not to mention the fact that he was her priest—was standing barely three feet away? Unaccountably, Megan felt like he'd just reached out and stroked her, brushed the pads of his fingertips across her lower lip, sunk his hand into the restrained hair at her nape, forced the sleek knot open, dragged his knuckles across the tightening crests of her breasts…
Her eyes widened in disbelief at the direction of her thoughts and the uncontrollable reaction of her body. But she needn't have worried about Father Gregory. Christian's words had a drastically different effect on him than they did on Megan. He cracked his shiny forehead with the palm of his hand.
"I can't believe I forgot to tell you, Megan! Terry called earlier. He asked if he could drop Emily off right after school let out instead of at four o'clock. He must be outside right now—" He stopped mid-sentence, his expression apologetic, when they heard the loud call of a horn sounding from the street.
"That's okay, Father. I'll just grab my purse. It was nice to meet you, Christian."
She didn't dare look back to see if they were still standing in the hallway when she locked and shut the classroom door after getting her purse. She raced across the front steps of the school as if she were being chased.
"Are you sure this is okay, Megan?" Terry asked after Megan had unbuckled the grinning Emily from her car seat, swung her to her hip and met Terry on the other side of the car.
"Of course. We're going to have a ball, huh Em?" Her niece nodded enthusiastically. "Get to go to Aunt Meg's clay class and 'Merican Girl."
Megan met Terry's amused gaze. "I offered to take her to ride the Ferris wheel on Navy Pier, or to see The Lion King onstage—"
"But even the American Girl store takes second place to going to clay class," Terry finished for her and they joined in laughter. He gave his daughter a hard hug that necessarily included Megan. Both of them received a kiss on the cheek. He pulled a shoulder bag containing Emily's things from the backseat. "Emily, you're going to have to walk. Aunt Meg can't carry both the bag and you."
When Emily whined in protest and clung to Megan's neck, Terry sighed in exasperation. "Emily, it will take me too long to find parking and I'm going to get a ticket parked here. Be a big girl and walk, so that Aunt Meg can carry the bag."
Megan swung the heavy duffle up to her shoulder. "It's okay, Terry, she's tired. It's almost naptime and it's only across the street."
They argued for a few seconds, but Megan was insistent and Terry was running late. He finally gave in. "Thanks again, Megan. Hilary and I owe you. Emily, you be good. No sneaking into Aunt Meg's clay unless she says you can."
Only after Terry's vehicle had vacated the spot did Megan glance back toward St. Catherine's School. The double take she did caused her to stumble slightly due to her heavy burden and precarious balance.
Christian Lasher was standing at the top of St. Cat's steps. Most people would have said his posture was casual as he stood with his long, jean-clad legs slightly spread, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, his back resting lightly against the limestone entryway. But for a reason Megan couldn't name, she knew that estimation would have been dead wrong. She sensed the tension in those long, corded muscles just as she instinctively knew that the expression in his blue eyes was as intense as ever even if now they were alight with… anger? Or was it disappointment?
Megan had no answer to that as she watched him lift one booted-foot and kick the wall behind him to lever himself forward. He sauntered toward the entryway with a loosehipped swagger. Even as she spoke to Emily in a bright voice she wondered at the feeling of regret that flooded through her.
* * * *
Christian let the door that led back into St. Catherine's fall shut without entering. He muttered a few choice curses, all self-directed. Christian knew there were a dozen reasons why he shouldn't turn around, only one of them being Father Gregory's enigmatic statement as they'd watched Megan Shreve fly lightly down the front steps a moment ago. The priest had had a whimsical expression on his face as he watched her but his eyes looked sad.
"We're lucky to have her. The students love her. Megan is such a…special girl."
"She's hardly a girl, Father."
Father Gregory had glanced up in surprise at the quiet conviction in Christian's deep voice. "Of course she's not. She's a young lady now. No doubt of it. There's always been something fragile about her though. Those who love her have always been a little protective of her and I suppose I'm no different."
"What do you mean fragile? Is she sick?"
Father Gregory looked taken aback at the sudden tension in Christian's voice. He seemed to come to an abrupt realization of what he'd been saying…to whom he was speaking.
"Of course not, Christian. She looks hale and hearty to me."
The priest had clapped him on the back and made an obvious attempt to change the subject. Christian had politely given an excuse and made his exit.
His stomach had knotted when he saw Megan in another man's embrace and when she looked into his face and shared laughter. He had been confident of his complete disregard for about three seconds before he found himself hesitating.
He damned himself for a fool but what the hell? What kind of a heel would allow her to struggle, weighed down as she was with luggage and a child? Surely he'd absorbed something from of his parents' moral upbringing and his strict Catholic education?
Hadn't Father Gregory said she was frail?
"That's right, Lasher, you're a real boy scout," Christian muttered wryly to himself.
But it didn't stop him from reaching out to touch Megan Shreve.
"Let me help with that."
Even if Megan hadn't recognized the deep, resonant voice, she would have known him by the effect his touch had on her when his hand closed on her shoulder. Surely she'd imagined that his long fingers squeezed softly into the muscle before she turned abruptly, causing him to release her.
"Christian…oh, that's okay. That is, maybe…if you're going home, too?"
He didn't bother to answer her but matter-of-factly eased the bag from her shoulder. Megan shifted Emily to her other hip and smiled in relief. "Thanks, it was pretty heavy." She glanced down at Emily who was eying Christian with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity.
Christian noticed the little girl's wariness and lightly brushed the tip of his finger across her perfect nose. "Hi. You must be Emily."
He chuckled, not at all offended when Emily shyly buried her face in Megan's breasts. Curiosity prevailed over her fear, however, and Emily peered cautiously up at Christian through tousled blonde curls. The mischievous smile that ghosted the little girl's lips suggested that she and Christian were two of a kind.
He was completely charmed.
"You sure you don't want to come, too?" Christian teased her as he held out his arms. His smile broadened when she shook her head adamantly and turned her face fully into Megan's chest. "No? Ah, well, I can't say I blame you, Emily. That looks like way too nice of a seat to give up."
Megan's eyes swung to Christian's; she was sure she had misunderstood the intent of his warmly murmured words. Hardly no one spoke to Megan that way. But no, there was a hint of yearning in his blue eyes as if he would have enjoyed having his head cushioned against the softness of her breasts just as Emily's did. His gaze met hers only briefly, but Megan stilled at the flash of desire she saw there. She glanced away, unsettled, and planted a kiss on Emily's warm hair.
"Don't be shy, Em. This is Christian. Say hello."
"Hello," Emily said obediently. She watched Christian, keeping her cheek resting on Megan's chest. As they progressed down Adams Street Emily shed her shyness like a winter coat on a sweltering day.
"You're tall. Taller than my daddy."
"And your hair is curly, curlier than your mommy's," Christian bantered with unaffected ease.
Emily sat up straighter and gave a gamine grin. "Mommy's would be curly like mine if she didn't put stuff on it to make it straight. Your face is hairy. Hairier than my daddy's."
"Emily," Megan muttered in embarrassment. She quickly assessed Christian's expression to see if he was put off, but his lopsided grin only widened. Her eyes unintentionally lowered to the goatee to which Emily referred. Megan hardly would have used the word "hairy" to describe it. It was very short, sleek and neatly trimmed. The hair was darker on his face than it was on his head, where sun-streaked golden strands intermixed randomly with brown ones. It only served to highlight the shape of his sensual lips.
"My mommy doesn't like hair on men's faces."
"Her father is clean-shaven," Megan mumbled by way of apology for her niece's innocent candor, but she was ignored by both of them.
"She doesn't? Well, she doesn't know what she's been missing. Doesn't your mom know what whiskers are for?" Christian asked in mock disbelief as he opened the condominium entrance for Megan. Emily's eyes sparkled and she leaned toward the same man whom she had just been thoroughly intimidated by all of ninety seconds ago.
She giggled as she tried out the new word. "What are whiskers for?"
Christian unexpectedly draped his arm across Megan's shoulders just inside the foyer, stopping her dead in her tracks. Her eyes widened when he drew her closer to the heat of his body and his head lowered over her. For a split second he pinned her with his penetrating gaze.
Then his face lowered more.
Emily's shrieks of laughter pierced the fog of Megan's stunned arousal. Her niece squealed with delight as Christian twisted his chin in her neck.
"Whiskers are for tickling little girls, that's what," he growled playfully. The whisker-tickling persisted until Emily was hysterical with giggles and had grasped his hair, then his shoulders in her chubby hands. When Christian pulled back Emily determinedly held on, making it impossible for her new friend to fully retreat.
Christian didn't seem to mind. He turned his attention to Megan. Because of their positioning, his face was only inches away from both her parted lips and the softness where he'd previously referenced wanting to rest his head. Megan wondered at the sudden sensation of fullness in her breasts.
She froze when Christian's eyes went unerringly to the tips of her breasts, as if he knew exactly what she was experiencing. Pure deviltry sparked into his eyes.
"What about you, little girl?" he asked in a low, rumbling voice. "Do you want to be tickled, too?"
He inhaled deeply of her sweet, fresh, thoroughly feminine scent. He couldn't pry his eyes away from the dark pink bow of Megan's mouth. Her lips were unadorned by lip gloss or lipstick, but they didn't need a thing to highlight them. How could they look so soft, so vulnerable, so chaste and so flagrantly sexy at the same time? Her mouth looked as firm and succulent as exotic fruit. He inhaled sharply when her lips parted slightly and he saw her tongue brush nervously over the ridge of her upper teeth.
Forbidden fruit, Christian reminded himself irritably, forcefully deflecting a score of sexual fantasies involving what he would like to do with Megan Shreve's mouth, the most innocent of which would likely have made her blush all the way to her toes. Then he noticed the shock in her wide eyes. He abruptly straightened to his full height and stepped away from the source of his suddenly raging libido. When he did, he effortlessly brought Emily with him.
Megan trailed after them dazedly as Jeff, their doorman, let them through the security doors. If she'd been completely tongue-tied by his audacious teasing about tickling her, then she'd been practically pole axed by his lustful gaze. Men didn't look at her that way. At least not men from St. Cat's parish. The sudden impenetrable veil that had seemed to drop over Christian's gaze afterwards had made her reel with just as much confusion.
More than likely, he was put off by her inexperience, her ignorance of how to participate in sexy, meaningless small talk, Megan reasoned as she watched Christian brace Emily so that she could push the "up" button on the elevator. She couldn't help but feel a little defeated. Resentment clambered across her awareness. She'd never so objectively viewed her prescribed role or regretted it so deeply until now. Suddenly she longed to have the knowledge of how to attract a man like Christian Lasher, a man who exuded utter masculine confidence with every cell of his being, whose eyes gleamed with an incisive intelligence…whose sexuality was so potent it just might be addicting.
Even her four-year-old niece was light-years ahead of her, Megan realized with self-disgust as she watched Emily hook her fingers behind Christian's neck and unselfconsciously toss her blonde curls. Had there ever been a time in her life that Megan would have behaved in such a carefree way with a man, with so much innate trust and joy?
If there had been, the memory had been crushed out of her consciousness long ago.
"Let me push, let me!" Emily insisted once they'd gotten on the elevator. Christian handled her like a seasoned pro, shifting his hand to support the little girl's upper body when she flung herself forward to punch the elevator button. Afterwards, Emily used the same chubby finger that she'd used to push the button to test out the texture of Christian's goatee.
"Emily, you are such a flirt," Megan admonished with a roll of her eyes. Still, the honest part of her had to admit that she was a little envious of the privileged position her niece had. When the elevator door opened, Megan put out her arms. "I can take her from here."
Christian walked off the elevator, giving her a quizzical look when she held the elevator door. "Which way to your place?"
"That one," Emily answered enthusiastically as she pointed to a door down the hallway.
Megan tried to remember if her condominium was reasonably clean as she unlocked the front door. She breathed a sigh of relief when she glanced around. Not perfect, but presentable.
"I like your place," Christian complimented as he surveyed the open floor plan of the loft, the floor-to-ceiling eastfacing windows, the inexpensive but tasteful furniture and decorations. He bent his long legs at the knee and set the duffle bag down on an entryway bench, then transferred Emily to his other hip before he began an unhurried inspection of her home.
"Thanks," she murmured. She got the impression that nothing was left unobserved by him. She watched as he walked slowly through her living room, presumably on his way to look at the view from her windows. He paused to glance at her book and music collection. He took considerably more time to study a rare bronze figurine that Megan had kept for herself instead of selling. It was of a young Asian woman looking upward, her expression rapt with sensual gratification. Megan swallowed with difficulty when she saw one long finger gently touch the cool metal surface of the woman's upturned lips.
"Yours?" he asked, his back still to her.
When she didn't immediately answer, Christian's head swung around. A lock of untamed hair fell over his brow. Megan gave a strained smile and nodded.
He examined her closely. "She looks like she's looking up at her lover. Is she?"
Megan made a startled sound at the unexpected question. Suddenly she laughed. "I guess you could say that."
His dark eyebrow quirked up in a query but otherwise his face was marble-like, impassive. His silence seemed to demand an answer.
"That's my good friend Tina, who is a bona fide sun worshipper. She's downright hedonistic when it comes to sunbathing. Her face was turned up toward the sun when I photographed her for the sculpture," Megan finished with a shrug.
Her explanation sounded lame, nowhere near as erotic as Christian's question…or the manner in which he'd asked it.
"You don't like it when people take notice of your artwork. Still Father Gregory wasn't exaggerating. You are very talented," he murmured as he glanced out the windows.
Megan moved restlessly. His shrewd observation about her reaction to praise hit a little too close to home. She floundered to find a safer topic.
"The view is good, isn't it? It's what sold me on the unit. It's funny isn't it, how the working class, industrial neighborhood we grew up in has been transformed into such a desirable place to live in Chicago?"
"Umm, Christian agreed absentmindedly as he examined the spectacular view of Chicago's skyline. "Quite a few more BMWs parked along Adams and Monroe Street these days than there are Fords. I have to admit, I miss the way it was. I can't believe they closed down that old roller rink on Ogden."
"The Silver Flame?"
Christian was glad that he'd turned around in time to see the slow smile that curved her lips, so seductive without ever intending to be. He felt the impact of that smile like a kick to the gut…like a caress where it counted.
"I had my first date at the Silver Flame."
Christian walked back to where she stood, drawn like a magnet. "Oh yeah? Well, I kissed my first girl at the Rialto on Jackson, and they closed that down, too. How old were you?"
Megan blinked at the unexpected question. Embarrassment flooded her, a remnant of her parents' extremely strict prohibitions regarding dating. "Uh…fifteen, maybe? It wasn't an 'official' date. My parents wouldn't have allowed it then, I'm sure. How old were you?"
"At the Rialto, you mean?" He was standing only feet from her now. Megan nodded, once again caught in the spell of his magnetic blue eyes.
"Eleven," Megan exclaimed in disbelief. She couldn't help but smile, though, when he raised his eyebrows in mock lechery. Emily giggled at his silly faces and batted her fingers at his dark brows. "You must have been a very charming eleven-year-old," Megan conceded with dubious amusement.
He shrugged. "Tammy Dupree thought so. Who am I to argue? I set the romantic mood with chilled coca-cola and Juicy Fruits for an appetizer, than went in for the kill during the second scariest part of the movie. Not the first scream scene, because that was reserved for nonchalantly putting my arm around—"
"Tammy Dupree, otherwise know as your victim," Megan finished for him with a censorious expression that couldn't hide her smile "I feel sorry for that poor little girl. Eleven years old, indeed."
"Tammy wasn't eleven. What do you take me for? She was almost thirteen. An older woman."
"Your seduction sounds suspiciously sophisticated for an eleven-year-old."
"Tammy never complained," Christian deadpanned. But he could only hold the expression for a second before an idiotic grin plastered across his face. He was thoroughly enjoying himself.
Then Megan began to laugh. The sound was low, melodious… thoroughly unexpected in its sensuality. His grin faltered. Emily protested loudly when he gently set her on her feet.
"I should be going."
Megan took a step forward in unconscious protest at the obvious alteration in his mood. One second, he had been laughing, silly, charming and the next, he was making a polite, but cool exit. When she realized that she couldn't prevent him—a practical stranger—from doing whatever he wished, Megan hurried toward the door to graciously say goodbye.
"Thank you for carrying the bag and Emily. They were really heavy. I don't think I would have made it without—"
"Why didn't your husband help you?"
"My husband?" Megan asked thickly. Christian turned around and lowered his face close to hers. His eyes were like twin lasers. She was momentarily too stunned to speak. Any possibility of being able to utter coherent speech was squashed out of her when Christian slowly lowered his head even nearer to her upturned face. Their mouths were only inches apart. Megan's eyes fluttered closed just as her neck strained upward, blindly seeking.
"Aunt Meg, can I have a juice box?"
Megan blinked once. Twice. She staggered backward like a fool who had stood at the edge of a cliff and realized the idiocy of her intentions. "Uh…okay, Em. In a second. Say goodbye to Christian first."
Christian didn't miss a beat when the rambunctious little girl ran into his arms. He lifted her up high above his head until she was shrieking with joy.
"It was nice meeting you, Emily. I'll see you sometime soon, okay?"
"When?" Emily asked enthusiastically. "Tomorrow?"
Christian swung her around once before he lowered her to the floor. Megan noticed with bewilderment that his expression easily matched the carefree happiness in Emily's face.
His moods shifted so quickly that Megan felt disoriented.
"Maybe. That'll be up to your aunt. Now I'll bet that you're big enough to get a juice box out of the fridge yourself, aren't you?" His gaze swung to Megan for confirmation and Megan gave a tense nod. He gave her a playful swat and Emily scampered off toward the kitchen.
Megan swallowed uncomfortably when Christian raised himself to his full height. She tried to read his expression, but it was impenetrable once again.
"Thank you again. I hope that…"
Her inane words stilled in her throat when she realized he was coming toward her. His gait was predatory, his eyes were a barely banked flame. A muffled sound rose in her throat and she slowly began to back away from him until she bumped up against the wall behind her. He didn't still his forward motion until she was trapped between the wall against her back and the almost equally hard wall of his body at her front. He placed his hands on the wall next to her head. His thumbs gently levered her face upward.
"You could have let me know, Megan," he admonished in a low, gruff voice.
"Know what?" Unlike her breath, which was caught painfully in her lungs, Christian's exhalation softly fanned her face, fragrant and warm.
"That you weren't married. That Mr. SUV wasn't your husband."
The air finally released from her lungs as understanding dawned. "That's Terry, my sister Hilary's husband…Emily's father. Emily's been staying with me a lot while Hilary is at a sales conference."
Christian nodded. His voice had sounded matter-of-fact, conversational, but the way he pressed his hips gently, but persuasively, into the softness of her flesh felt anything but run of the mill. The tiny part of her that was still capable of rational thought wondered why she didn't feel alarmed. He felt hard against her, very male…indescribably good.
"Do you know I'm going to be thirty-four years old in a few months and I've never once in my life been with a married woman…at least never intentionally. Maybe it's because of my Catholic upbringing or maybe it's just because the hassle was never worth it, but I've never broken that code. I've never been tempted. Until just now."
The sight of his lowering mouth mesmerized Megan. "But I'm not married," she mumbled almost incoherently.
"Exactly," he murmured.
"Uh…Christian, what are you doing?" Megan asked throatily when his lips were almost touching hers and their breaths were mingling intimately.
She saw his dark eyebrows go up at her question, but otherwise there was no sign of hesitation or retreat. His gaze never left her lips.
"Isn't it obvious? Given the fact that I was about to go against my personal code of ethics and kiss the living hell out of you when I thought you were married, do you really believe I'd leave without at least tasting you now that I know you're single?"
Read the Reviews
Ms. Kery did a fabulous job painting her scenes with words. I sat down to read it and within minutes I was enthralled. I will read this again. If you are a romantic at heart, this is definitely a must read!
Enchanting Reviews, 5 Enchantments
This was a lovely (and sexy) love story in which you truly believed that this rock star and shy artist could make a life together.
Dear Author, B+ Rating
I highly recommend this well-written, emotional story.
5 Books, Long and Short Reviews
I loved the book and can't wait for more by this talented author.
Night Owl Review Top Pick
An extremely sensual, emotional contemporary romance that has found its way to my keeper shelf.
5 Bookies from Book Lovers Inc.
A wonderfully written story, Beth Kery has given us characters with depth and heart. I can't tell you how excited I am to play in her world.
5 Stars Paranormal Book Reviews
Thanks go to Ms. Kery for creating a story that was fun, inspiring, and very romantic all rolled into one great book.
5 Angels, Fallen Angel Reviews
If you liked Gateway To Heaven, you may also enjoy:
Flirting In Traffic, The Hometown Hero Returns, or Liam's Perfect Woman


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Recession Souvenirs, Buildings, Project, News, Boym Designs, USA
Recession Souvenirs : Boym Design
International Architecture by the Boyms
16 Oct 2009
Souvenirs in Bronze
News Update
The work of Brooklyn designers Constantin Boym (54) and Laurene Leon Boym (45) goes on show at "Design USA," an exhibition of the work of the Boyms and other winners of the first 10 years of the National Design Awards opening today at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum in New York.
The Boyms' souvenirs famously include "missing" monuments or buildings that were never built or have been destroyed – such as the Chernobyl power plant or the Montana cabin where the "Unabomber" plotted his terror campaign.
Constantin Boym was born in the Soviet Union and emigrated to the United States in 1981
Recession Souvenirs in Bronze
Aug 2009
One of the first casualties of the worldwide recession were monumental architectural projects, summarily canceled or put "on hold". Five of those potential skyscrapers, reduced to tabletop size, now make the Boyms' new edition of Recession Souvenirs.
The set includes Burj al Alam in Dubai; the Russia Tower in Moscow, planned to be the tallest building in Europe; Busan Lotte Tower in Korea, designed as the world's tallest hotel; Herzog & de Meuron's whimsical 56 Leonard Street condo tower in New York; and the controversial Cheesegrater, intended for the heart of London.
The miniature skyscrapers, hand cast in bright-color resin, may bring to mind Missing Monuments, the Boyms' souvenirs of unbuilt or lost structures. Yet in this case, not all of these recession casualties will necessarily be "missed". A material for reflection or conversation, these five collectible pieces are available for $95 each. Produced for a limited time only – as long as recession lasts.
Location: Brooklyn, New York, USA
Comments / photos for the Recession Souvenirs page welcome

subset: commoncrawl


text: Google is synonymous to innovation, creativity and thinking-outside-the box. Google seem to be everywhere right now. It is represents freshness and new ideas. One of the engineers of Google, Singaporean Cheng-Meng Tan who calls himself Jolly Good Fellow wrote a book that would inspire people to achieve success, happiness and (Chade's personal mission: World Peace). He wrote the book entitled Search Inside Yourself which is the same name of the course he also teaches in Google. An engineer who … [Read more...]


text: Once the weather starts to warm up in Paris, you may notice more sandals, espadrilles and a fair share of the brightly colored Bensimon sneakers. In the 1980's Serge Bensimon opened his first boutique in the Marais selling clothing, accessories and la tennis Bensimon (tennis shoes). His colorful and functional line was inspired by his love of travel. Although he has opened numerous clothing (and home décor) stores throughout France, the sneakers remain the most identifiable symbol of the Bensimon style.


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Actua Transport; minibus and coach hire for wherever you want to go.


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Day Thirty One.
How appropriate, I'm now thirty one. I don't think it though. In fact it's strange to think it because I don't feel it. Like my age is not a good representation of how I feel. But that's beside the point. The point is, today is my least favorite day, but only by the calendar. Not because of what I do, or how the day is spent. Only because it's the least prettiest day;)
(side note: if you don't know me personally, and can't "hear" my voice or see my face, you might misread and misunderstand. So don't take it too seriously;) There is another side about Halloween I could talk about, a bit of a serious aspect with a Christian standpoint but I'm sure I don't need to say everything I think and explain myself to that extent.)
When it comes to Halloween, I will go with my daughter's opinion. And yes, she does have one.
"Kaka." If translated literally, it means poop.
So there you have it.
When Jemma would see a witch outside a store, or a skull or something else very nasty and ugly and not worth looking at for her small little being, she would put up her hands to her face and hide and turn, looking for protection from me. Her face would twist and the look would say it all. So we said don't look at it. You could explain to a child it's a "decoration" (but not in my books) and that it is fake, fictional, etc… But it is even easier to say, don't look. Why look at something that makes you cringe?
For instance, why would I want to look at a hanging spider that looks like the size of one that could swallow me whole?! I don't want to even pass next to it, knowing it is fake and just a Halloween decoration! I have enough dislike for spiders as is! Even if they are God's creation.
Here's the thing. October is beautiful. It is our anniversary month. It is a month where nature puts on a spectacular show of color. And then Halloween comes along and makes it not so beautiful. It's just not beautiful. Just from an esthetic point of view. My own personal view.
Apart from that. I had a lovely day with my family.


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This year, the American Film Festival's Spectrum strand brings together a dozen features competing for a $10,000 prize. It's a particularly strong programme this time round, making the job especially difficult for audiences voting on the winner by ballot at the end of each screening. I'd heartily recommend checking out the strand in its entirety, but here are five recommendations if you're not sure where to start…
Izzy (Mackenzie Davis) wakes up in a stranger's flat, her clothes caked in blood and wine, with little recollection of the night before. Within minutes, she's barrelling through Los Angeles, determined to make it to her ex-boyfriend's engagement party, the one she's just found out about on Instagram. With no money, no means of transportation and one helluva hangover, Izzy turns to all and sundry for a helping hand, most at their wit's end with her whirlwhind of irresponsibility. For his debut feature, Christian Papierniak brings a formal zest to each vignette of increasing absurdity, utilising all manner of colour filters and split screens to transmit his lead's manic intensity of purpose. The propulsive direction fizzes with energy, but it's Davis' impulsive central turn that grounds the film's more out-there episodes, seeing it through to the bittersweet realisations of its emotional payoff.
The Tree of Life sprouts a new branch with A. J. Edwards' sophomore feature, Friday's Child. Edwards had worked as an editorial intern for Terrence Malick on The New World, before returning to help shape both Knight of Cups and Song to Song for the director. The influence of the American master is readily apparent in Edwards' own features, even as both hew closer to more linear storytelling devices. Bringing together a pair of Malick alumni in (a career-best) Tye Sheridan and Imogen Poots, the aesthetic debts of Friday's Child matter little when the end results reap such rich rewards. A poetic, moral fable, ravishingly lensed by Jeff Bierman, Edwards' film serves as a social indictment of America's broken foster system, one ill-equipped to serve the needs of its graduates.
Styling himself in a cowboy hat and jeans, Jimmy Van Horn arrives in China to pitch his invention, a small electronic box that purports to contact the dead. It's a fitting ensemble for the gold-rush opportunities of this new frontier, a wild east superseding the wild west of old. Things don't quite go according to plan. With the old world order flipped on its head, modern China holds little truck with the arrogance of Jimmy's retrograde, imperialist mindset. Casting mostly non-actors alongside Jimmy's David Zellner (best known as the director of 2014's Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter), director John Maringouin crafts a techno-parable indebted to Conrad's Heart of Darkness. His roots as a documentarian pay dividends in charting a cultural landscape at once aspirational and hostile. Alternately hilarious and discomfiting, it's a real one-off in this year's competition.
For those after some genre kicks, this might just be the one for you. Olivia Wilde gives a ferocious central performance as Sadie, a victim of horrific domestic violence who rebuilds her life as a saviour for those suffering at the hands of their partners. Contacted by abused women, Sadie cuts their husbands down to size, kicking ass and forcing them to sign generous divorce agreements. It soon becomes clear that Sadie has unfinished business of her own, tipping into full-on survival mode for the film's third act. While all the necessary genre beats are in place, director Sarah Daggar-Nickson roots Sadie's struggle in a realist mode, crafting a thoughtful study in the devastating effects of pervasive male violence. The emotional toll hits hard, not least due to Olivia Wilde's committed, career-best performance.
Kent Jones is perhaps best known for his work as a film critic and programmer. He's also co-directed a number of documentaries with Martin Scorsese, including the brilliant Letter to Elia. Scorsese returns the favour for Jones' fiction feature debut, serving as executive producer for this magnificent character study. If on the surface, Diane seems like a quiet film, as Jones charts the everyday routine of his selfless protagonist, it's one in possession a roaring current underneath. It's testament to Mary Kay Place's performance that there's so much to be mined from Diane's inner life, while through his rich textures and recurring formal conceits, Jones unassumingly effects what's surely destined to be one of the year's best films.
Matthew Thrift
BFI - Little White Lies - Cinephile


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FIFPro demand clubs respect contractual obligations
FIFPro has demanded clubs respect their contractual obligations with players to eradicate situations where wages are not paid on time.
Negotiations led by the world players' union to reform the transfer system broke down last week after the European Clubs' Association (ECA) and the European Professional Football Leagues (EPFL) refused to introduce new rulings.
Serie A side Parma did not paid players throughout November and December, with star player Antonio Cassano walking out on the club this week as a result.
Under FIFPro's proposals, players who had been unpaid for more than 30 days would have the option to terminate their contract and subsequently be free to find a new club without restriction.
However, an agreement was not forthcoming, leading secretary general Theo van Segglen to criticise the clubs' representatives and stress the need for change.
"Every year, around 4,000 players file cases with FIFA either because their club has not paid them or the club has unjustly terminated the contract," he said.
"Due to the volume of cases, players have to wait several years for a hearing which, in over 90 per cent of matters, is decided in favour of the player.
"Given the short-term and precarious nature of a player's career, these delays cannot be tolerated. Clubs have now taken to exploiting the delays through tactics such as heavy handedness and vexatious litigation to ensure that compensation payments are avoided or minimised.
"FIFA's caseload does not even take into account the extent of the problem at the national level, as FIFA is only competent to hear cases between players and clubs of different nationalities.
"Basic measures must be urgently introduced to give players stability in their contractual relations with clubs, and to prevent the widespread lack of respect for the contractual rights of players from continuing.
"These reforms would make the contract of a professional player a two way street."


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THE season may be nearing its close but there's still plenty for Warwickshire to play for in the next two weeks.
We're still battling hard for promotion to the first division of the Cricinfo County Championship and wins over Sussex and Derbyshire should be enough to see us go up, particularly as our main rivals Hampshire and Middlesex are currently locked in battle at Southampton and are sure to take points off one another.
We keep leaving ourselves in this position at the end of the season - last year we lost at Essex in the final game when a win would have sent us up - but the bottom line is that Warwickshire needs to be in the top division of English cricket.
That said, it certainly isn't going to be easy against Sussex. Chris Adams has done a fine job in leading Sussex to the top of the table and they've scored plenty of runs this season thanks to Murray Goodwin, the former Zimbabwe Test player and Richard Montgomerie, a former Rugby School pupil, who was the first batsman to 1,000 runs this season.
The Bears have a good record against Sussex down the years and I know the lads are in a confident mood. They're in good nick at the moment and they know what it means to the club to get promotion.
I just hope the September weather holds and gives us a chance to have a real go at it. We were so disappointed at missing out last season it would be a great shame for it to happen again.
Unfortunately it has already had a say in almost wrecking one of our late-season targets.
Wednesday night's washout at Grace Road has virtually ended our hopes of landing second spot in the National League.
The two points Warwickshire gained leaves us in third spot four points behind Kent, who have a game in hand. We have to rely on Matthew Fleming's boys slipping up against Northants on Sunday and then it comes down to the death in a head-to-head between Warwickshire and Kent on September 16.
We'll have to win by a fair margin to pip Kent on run-rate but it all makes for an exciting end to the season, though I can't help wondering how an extra run or point here and there during the season might have made all the difference to our bid for honours.
The boys were really pumped up for Wednesday night after their super showing at Taunton on Monday. It was a great result to beat Somerset by eight wickets in their own backyard and a measure of revenge for our NatWest Trophy semi-final defeat last month.
My spies tell me that it wasn't an easy wicket to bat on and to lose just two wickets in reaching our victory target of 191 was a superb effort.
It could have been a much different story if we had lost a couple of more wickets after Mark Wagh's early dismissal. But Nick Knight hung around for a fine unbeaten 84 to anchor the innings.
It was interesting to see Vasbert Drakes going in at number three and taking on the pinch-hitter's role.
We have tried a number of players in that position this season, most notably Dougie Brown, but Vasbert is a good striker of the ball and he was thrown in at the deep end and took his chance well with a fine 43.
On the injury front, I'm continuing to make good progress after my Achilles operation. The protective boot has now come off my foot and I'm back in shoes. It's nice to get back on two feet again!
I'm doing a lot of physio at Edgbaston and I am due to see my specialist next week. If he gives the OK then I'll start some strengthening work. But, all in all, I'm still on course to take my place in the England squad to tour India in October.
It'll be great to be back in action again.


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Kirsten Dunst's short film Bastard will be premiering on the closing night of this year's Cannes Film Festival, and two high-resolution images from the film have come online. Co-written and directed by Dunst, here's what she said about her movie:
"This film explores what makes the unbelievable believable. When we hear a story that seems mysterious or far-fetched, we put more trust in its accuracy the longer ago it took place. As the centuries pass, the truth becomes more malleable. We grow less skeptical of what we might otherwise dismiss as incredible. Our perspective changes. This film addresses the eerie transformation of a familiar myth when displaced to the present."
Bastard stars Brian Geraghty, Juno Temple, Lukas Haas, Joel David, Moore Lee, Thompson Young, and L.M. Kit Carson. Hit the jump to check out the high resolution images.
Click on an image to see it in high resolution.


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Toby Rand of Juke Kartel
November 12, 2010 by Mary Ouellette
Filed under Interviews
On September 28th Juke Kartel dropped their first US release titled Levolution. Don't know what it means? You shouldn't …yet. It's a word the band coined themselves to encompass their years together and their rock and roll pilgrimage from their homes in Australia to their new digs in Los Angeles.
Front man Toby Rand first made his mark in the good ole US of A on a little show called Rockstar SuperNova, vying for a chance to become the lead singer of Tommy Lee's band. While he didn't win, It gave him just enough leverage to return to Australia and blow the roof off the place with his own band Juke Kartel. With some success under their belts and a lust for a full on global rock and roll takeover the band uprooted their lives and moved to LaLa Land – a gutsy move that has paid dividends.
Levolution is about as solid a collection of rock tunes that one will find, from the anthemic rocker "Throw It Away" poised for sports stadiums across the nation, to the acoustic, live recorded "Soulshaper" to the beautifully rich and deep layers of "Find Out". It's definitely a contender for our top ten list of the year. The album mixes a few of the band's older tracks with several new songs to give the perfect 1-2-3 lights out punch of rock and roll mastery.
I recently had the chance to chat to Toby about his move to California, the new album, and how it all fell into place, and after an hour of listening to that accent, I might just be in love.
Interviewed by: Mary Ouellette
TWRY Video of the Week: Juke Kartel / If Only
November 1, 2010 by TWRY Staff
Filed under Daily Music News, TWRY Video of the Week
Our video of the week is the latest from Juke Kartel off of their Carved Records debut Levolution. Check out the video below for their song "If Only".
CD Review: Juke Kartel / Levolution
October 5, 2010 by TWRY Staff
Filed under CD Reviews, Daily Music News
Juke Kartel Rating:
Release Date: September 28, 2010
Carved Records
Reviewed by: Justin Bartz
Read more
Juke Kartel Online Listening Party For "Levolution"
September 28, 2010 by TWRY Staff
Filed under Daily Music News
Levolution, the US debut album from melodic rockers Juke Kartel, hits stores today. The album was a true labor of love by the band, who have played together since 2006 and recently made a move from Australia to the States. Lead singer Toby Rand said in a recent interview that Levolution is a story of the journey of the band, whom he describes as "big, powerful, and guitar-driven, with stadium sonic sound." Single "If Only" proves this point, uniting the band's gift for melody with heart-on-your-sleeve lyrics. Check out the listening party above to preview the album, which is now available for download on iTunes.
For more updates and news from the band, find them on Facebook or visit JukeKartel.com.
Aussie Rockers Juke Kartel Make Their US Debut With "Levolution"
September 2, 2010 by TWRY Staff
Filed under Daily Music News
We got our first taste of Juke Kartel when their frontman Toby Rand participated in "Rockstar: Supernova". After the show he returned to Australia to reunite with his band Juke Kartel.
Fast forward to the present and the band is about to release their album Levolution on Carved Records on September 28th. Levolution finds musical symmetry in its strong hooks, multi-textured instrumentals and passionate vocals. And as the album is more than just your typical rock record, Juke Kartel is not just a rock band: "We're more than just band-mates; we're a family that chose each other."
Preview a few of the tracks below:
Bullet Wearing Trademark Clothes:
If Only:
Like what you hear? Check out more on the band at their official website JukeKartel.com or pre-order the album here.


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Stamford Car Show 2009
The Standard Motor Club visits the Stamford Car Show
Our Club line up … oldest on the left, youngest on the right.
Sunday 30th August 2009
The sixth Stamford Car Show, organised by Stamford and District Round Table, took place on Sunday 30th August and for the first time the Standard Motor Club was excellently represented with eight fine examples of our cars from across the decades.
The Show is held on The Meadows, an attractive field in the centre of this historic and picturesque town. Stamford is partly famous for being the backdrop in the BBC's drama "Middlemarch" based on the novel by George Eliot about provincial life in the 1830s, but more for the splendid Burghley House and grounds where the annual Land Rover Horse Trials are held.
On the day we had 8 Standards as follows:
Click on any of the thumbprints to see an enlargement:
General view of Stamford Meadows
Tom Dolby's Phase 1 Vanguard Estate
The late entries of Paul and Phil's cars were very welcome to boost our numbers and to add some of the earlier cars to complement the 50's ones. Paul made the trip over from Rugby and back in one day, proving that our cars are more than usable to cover significant distances in one day. In fact, over the course of the previous week, Phil and Lynda had recently completed the Cotswolds Run and a day at Stoneleigh, before making a cross country trip to Stamford to complete a great weekend out in their car.
The Stamford Car Show is open to all cars whatever their age, so there is something for everyone, young or old. The youngsters of course head straight for the exotic Aston Martins, Ferraris and Lamborghinis, the sporting enthusiasts for the TVRs, RS Owners Club or Mazda MX5 Club. The more curious among us spent a long time admiring the concourse standard Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, not to mention all the other Standard Triumph family and assorted Austin, MG, Morris, Riley, Rover etc. Something for everyone and all to a very high standard.
Peter Foster with Nick Black
Josh Lewis, wondering what life in the dickie seat of Paul Newsome's 1926 Charlecote would be like if his Dad got one of these magnificent machines – Pete, Ivor, Alison, Anne and Lynda and look on.
Our Club stand, complete with our new flag banner, attracted attention with many passers-
Towards the end of the day we were visited by Nick Black, son of Sir John Black, who lives in Stamford and was our guest of honour at this year's National Rally at Cirencester. We had a chance to catch up with him and it was sad to learn a couple of days later that the publishing date of his book about his father's life and work at Standard has been slipped now to early 2010 due to economic pressures at his publisher. On a positive note this is giving Nick more time to polish the writing and research and update some inaccuracies. This will be a must for all Standard enthusiasts and I encouraged Nick to get a launch date close to the AGM and to come along and sell us all a signed copy !!
We hope that one day we'll hold our National Rally centred on this town and to enjoy the great driving roads around it. In the meantime we would love to see even more Standard's next year and I'll ensure a top spot on the field, so put a date in your diary for the Sunday of August Bank Holiday 2010. Why not make a weekend of it and come and stay here? If a few of us do this I would be more than happy to organise a local roadrun for the Saturday and/or Monday.
See you next year …
Report and Photos by Conan Lewis
If you would like to know more about Stamford Show next year, get in touch with Conan Lewis. Thank you for organising this year's event.
So, with rainclouds threatening and the evening drawing in, we started up the Flying 12 and headed south to St. Albans. It is pretty much impossible to join the two places together without going on the A1(M), so we decided that is the course we would take! I have to tell you that pressing on at 45-
Phil Homer
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Selfie support
To coincide with the unveiling of Shaheen Abbas' third stint as jewellery designer with Gehna Jewellers, five of her BFFs, namely Mini Mathur, Maria Goretti, Neha Dhupia, Aditi Rao and Huma Qureshi we are told, erupted spontaneously into a series of perfectly composed selfies on Instagram to support/promote their friend
To coincide with the unveiling of Shaheen Abbas' third stint as jewellery designer with Gehna Jewellers, five of her BFFs, namely Mini Mathur, Maria Goretti, Neha Dhupia, Aditi Rao and Huma Qureshi we are told, erupted spontaneously into a series of perfectly composed selfies on Instagram to support/promote their friend.
(L to R) Mini Mathur, Maria Goretti, Neha Dhupia, Huma Qureshi and Aditi Rao Hydari
"Mini and Maria are really old friends," said Abbas. "More than friends, they are family to me. We've literally done life together. They are girls who are always in my corner," she said, ticking off the famous five, one by one, recounting her ties with each.
"Neha and my husband Roshan go back a long way, from the time they were in Delhi together, close to 20 years ago. And from the time I've met Neha, she has been a constant support to me. She's my cute cheerleader," said the celeb jewellery designer.
What about the two young Bolly actresses? "The friendships with Huma and Aditi are fairly new, but as soon as I met them both we instantly clicked. They're both such positive people. And Huma and I make the best Taboo team," she said referring to the popular board game that's taken young Bollywood by storm.
"All these girls have always shown such great support to me. I feel so touched and overwhelmed," said Abbas channelling the likes of Meryl Streep receiving her nth Oscar on stage.
Meanwhile Sunil Datwani of Gehna said, "Shaheen's designs stimulate sensibility and can easily be paired with western or cocktail outfits." Abbas was more succinct, "Jewellery is a silent language and one just has to learn how to speak it." Nuff said.
Sitara Devi at a performance in 1952 and at 92 in 2014
(L and above) Performers including Ranjit Barot and Zakir Hussain at the tribute
Celebrating Sitara Devi
Wednesday night marked the first death anniversary of Sitara Devi, and her son Ranjit Barot, had organised a fitting tribute to the memory of one of India's most revered exponents of Kathak, with artistes like Zakir Hussain, Antonia Minnecola, Fazal Qureshi and Sabir Khan joining Barot, in what those present say was an explosion of music and celebration, the likes of which are seldom seen at the NAPA.
Risqué is better
We miss no opportunity to hear multiple awards winning blues legend from UK, Dana Gillespie, when she is performing. With a career spanning 53 years in showbiz and more than 64 albums to her credit, Gillespie is the real McCoy; the genuine article, the bonafide Blues babe.
Dana Gillespie and Amrita and Malaika Arora
A dyed in the linen Indophile, this (Puttaparthi) Sai Baba follower has been coming to India for over 35 years now and we have heard over the decades, her smoky voice getting smokier with age, her Sixties wild child face getting craggier and more arresting.
On Wednesday night Gillespie was performing at the blueFROG, to kick off her four-city tour of India this year with Simply The Blues, the brainchild of Anil Mehta, a blues aficionado, who has been managing the star for the past three years in India.
"Dana is not just a blues legend but a true ambassador of music across the world," said Mehta when he joined us for a pre-performance drink at the Frog, adding "and what better way for us to showcase this powerhouse of talent than through a multi-city tour.
We start with tonight's gig at blueFROG, tomorrow we travel to Goa to perform at Sol de Goa Hotel, which is a lovely boutique property with interiors by Tarun Tahiliani, and on the 28th we move to Delhi to play at Qla which was the old blueFROG. And then it's on to Bangalore for the last leg at blueFROG on 29th. "
And as a precursor to what's to come, Gillespie whose current tour is composed of 'Risque Blues,' belted out some of her popular and acclaimed tracks like Long Night, Ten Ton Blocks, great blues standards like St. Louis Blues by WC Handy and Empty Bed Blues by Sippie Wallace. She closed the evening with her original boogie shuffle, A Lot Of What You Got.
"It's all about rhythms and emotions. Emerging from a working class environment, it had elements of bawdiness in it. This made it fun. I say naughty is nice but risqué is better. I love seeing people walking away from my shows grinning ear to ear," she said.
And by the looks of the audience that featured the likes of Malaika and Amrita Arora, Ashitta Tham, AD and Sabena Singh, and Leena Asher amongst others, there was a whole lot of grinning by the time Gillespie was done.
Cooking up a Storm
At the start of this week gallerist Vickram Sethi (ICIA) donned his celebrated chef's hat, once again, in honour of his long time friend, the Delhi-based artist Anjolie Ela Menon, who is in town for her exhibition at Art Musings, which opened last evening.
Anjolie Ela Menon and Vickram Sethi
Sethi is an impassioned foodie, and over a meal that had more than a dozen courses, a handful of Menon's friends partook of such delights as edamame bundles, avocados laced with slivers of raw mango, a lentil salad with ginger, rosti with chicken brew and homemade berry yoghurt and warm carrot cake.
Gobstruck with the fare, we quizzed Sethi on his creations, which had been completely untutored and original. "The avocados, tomatoes and other vegetables were bought from Crawford Market, the spicy tomato jelly was from Paris, the pizza dough was made in our gallery, but the cheese was from Italy.
The edamame came from Nature's Basket, the horseradish sauce was Japanese, the ginger was Japanese, the fish from Sassoon Dock, the portobello mushrooms were from Amsterdam, and the dessert was all made at home with imported berries," he said. And as a result of cooking up this gourmet storm, we hear Sethi was in bed for the next few days with flu!
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(Pocket-lint) - While the NES Mini may look pretty cool, Nintendo has just announced that Japan will be getting its own tiny piece of nostalgia in the form of the Famicom Mini, and we have to say, it looks an awful lot better.
It's official title is the Nintendo Classic Mini: Family Computer and will be a miniature version of the Japanese exclusive NES released in 1983. It will also come with 30 games pre-installed like the European version, although it won't feature games such as Kid Icarus or Final Fantasy. Instead it will have Final Fantasy III, Atlantis no Nazo, Downtown Nekketsu Koshinkyoku: Soreyuke Daidundokai, NES Open Tournament Golf, River City Ransom, Solomon's Key and a couple of other Japanese titles.
Another difference is the controllers are hardwired to the console, whereas the controllers on the NES Mini can be swapped out. The NES Famicom is due for release on November 10th for 5980 Yen, or about $59.
- Nintendo NX: Release date, specs and everything you need to know
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Nintendo revealed the NES Mini back in July, confirming it would be its next console release. We were hoping for the Nintendo NX, but we may only have to wait until next month to see an official announcement for it. The NES Mini is a much smaller version of the company's original console which was released in Europe in 1986 and comes with 30 of Nintendo's biggest 8-bit games pre-installed.


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