Spies, time travel and a ménage make up the premise of Seducing Liberty. I don’t often write historical novels, but a story about Washington’s Culper Spy Ring, proved to be irresistible when penning this 1NightStand story.
On release day I usually show you the cuts that didn’t make it into the final story, and today will be no exception. During the delicate task of weaving this story together I had to make some choices. I wanted this to be one of those stories where the reader asks, did she really travel back in time, or did she black out and dream it? I needed it to be feasible in a fantasy setting, or contemporary. So here’s the ending that never made it, because I couldn’t work it into the real world.
Chop from Seducing Liberty: “That’s a wrap for the day, ladies and gentlemen. Want you back here Monday at 6 a.m. to finish the beach scene.” Liberty blinked, staring up at the mid-day sky. For a moment she’d thought she’d been in another place. A wet dream. That’s what she got for watching her assistant fuck. A shadow fell over and she lifted her chin to stare at a face backlit by the sun and in silhouette.
“You need a hand up?”
She reached out and took his hand. Something about him…
He pulled her to her feet and chest to chest. Liberty’s eyes widened. Dark hair, blue eyes and a wicked smile. Her heart bounced against her tonsils. No. it couldn’t be. Thomas didn’t exist—well, not in her time. He wore a white button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and blue jeans—so un-patriotic. Well, not something she’d ever seen him in, and damn if he didn’t wear 2011 well. “Thomas?”
“So this is what you do when you’re not spying for the Patriots,” he said.
A second man made his way over to them, dressed in knee length khaki shorts and a t-shirt with a sexy pirate woman and rum ad on the front. His hair was a little longer, but the spark in his eyes and the come fuck me vibe, was more than familiar.
Definitely not a wet dream. “Aaron? How did you…”
“Not sure, but I have to tell you the men’s room down the beach is amazing. You hit a lever and all the waste disappears—and hot running water pipes into a bowl for you to wash your hands. And jet skis, and my God, have you seen the bikinis? Do you own a bikini, Madelyn?”
“Bikini?” She blinked. “Are you really here? On the set? Was any of our date real or was it all a figment of my imagination?”
Thomas smiled. “Yes. Yes. And all of it—real. Somehow you brought us with you. When we woke, we were lying on the sand dressed like this. A note from a someone called Madame Eve was between us.” He handed it to her.
Liberty took the envelope and opened the flap, slipping the paper out.
Your dates have come to you. Enjoy. She looked up. “Are you staying?”
Thomas and Aaron nodded. “We talked. Wherever you are, we decided we want to be—if you’ll have us. Besides, we already have a job. Some director guy offered us a part in something called a movie. He said we looked like the perfect Patriots, and could use a couple of replacements.”
She couldn’t agree more. Liberty smiled and hooked each man’s arm, walking them down the beach and toward her trailer. “If you liked the toilets, wait until you see my shower.”