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A LETTER TO THE LUMINOUS DEEP
A LETTER TO THE LUMINOUS DEEP

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Secret Identity, Small Town Romance
Available 4.15.24


Excerpt of All I Ever Wanted by Kristan Higgins

Purchase


Harlequin
August 2010
On Sale: August 3, 2010
Featuring: Ian McFarland; Callie Grey
416 pages
ISBN: 0373774583
EAN: 9780373774586
Mass Market Paperback
Add to Wish List

Romance Series, Romance Contemporary

Also by Kristan Higgins:

Look on the Bright Side, June 2024
Hardcover / e-Book
Look on the Bright Side, June 2024
Trade Paperback
A Little Ray of Sunshine, May 2024
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book
Pride Not Prejudice, June 2023
e-Book
A Little Ray of Sunshine, June 2023
Trade Paperback / e-Book
Out of the Clear Blue Sky, April 2023
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
Waiting On You, February 2023
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book
Out of the Clear Blue Sky, June 2022
Trade Size / e-Book
Pack Up the Moon, April 2022
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
Love in the Mix, September 2021
Paperback / e-Book
Pack Up the Moon, June 2021
Hardcover / e-Book
Pack Up the Moon, June 2021
Trade Size / e-Book
Always the Last to Know, May 2021
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
The Best Man, November 2020
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book
Always the Last to Know, June 2020
Trade Size / e-Book / audiobook
Now That You Mention It, April 2020
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
Life and Other Inconveniences, August 2019
Trade Size / e-Book
On Second Thought, June 2019
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
Good Luck with That, May 2019
Mass Market Paperback
My One and Only, January 2019
Trade Size / e-Book (reprint)
Good Luck with That, August 2018
Trade Size / e-Book
Now That You Mention It, January 2018
Trade Size / e-Book
On Second Thought, February 2017
Trade Size / e-Book
If You Only Knew, June 2016
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
Anything for You, January 2016
Paperback / e-Book
If You Only Knew, September 2015
Paperback / e-Book
In Your Dreams, October 2014
Paperback / e-Book
Waiting On You, April 2014
Paperback / e-Book
The Perfect Match, November 2013
Paperback / e-Book
The Next Best Thing, September 2013
Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
The Best Man, March 2013
Paperback / e-Book
Just One Of The Guys, September 2012
Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
Somebody To Love, May 2012
Paperback / e-Book
Catch Of The Day, March 2012
Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
Until There Was You, October 2011
Paperback / e-Book
Fools Rush In, September 2011
Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
My One and Only, April 2011
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book
All I Ever Wanted, August 2010
Mass Market Paperback
Catch Of The Day, May 2010
Paperback / e-Book (reprint)
The Next Best Thing, February 2010
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book
Too Good To Be True, February 2009
Mass Market Paperback
Just One Of The Guys, August 2008
Mass Market Paperback
Catch Of The Day, October 2007
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book
Fools Rush In, November 2006
Paperback

Excerpt of All I Ever Wanted by Kristan Higgins

As the man I loved approached my office, the image of a deer being hit by a truck came to mind. I was the deer, metaphorically speaking, and Mark Rousseau was the pickup truck of doom.

But here’s the thing. The deer always freezes, as we all know, hence the expression like a deer caught in the headlights. The deer and I (Callie Grey, age thirty as of 9:34 this very morning) are well aware that the pickup truck is going to hit us. But we just stand there, waiting for the inevitable, whether it’s a pickup truck or a man walking athletically toward me, perpetual smile in place, his brown hair carelessly curling, those gorgeous, dancing dark eyes. I waited, doe-eyed. It was all really too bad, because outside of Mark’s influence, I was not at all a deer about to be run down. I was much more of an adorable, perky hedgehog or something.

“Hey,” Mark grinned.

Bam! We have impact. The sunlight streamed through the windows of the old brick office building in which Mark and I worked, illuminating him so that he looked like something painted by Michelangelo. To make him even more appealing, he was wearing an old sweater vest his mom knitted for him years ago, shapeless and faded but something he just couldn’t part with. A good son and a sex god.

It was as if there were two Callies…the smarter, more sensible self (I pictured her as Michelle Obama), and the dopey, in love part…Betty Boop. Would that Michelle could detach right about now and administer Betty Boop a brisk slap, followed by some vigorous shaking. Alas, Betty just sat there, enthralled, as the First Lady, not usually prone to violence, snorted in disgust.

“Hi,” I said, feeling my face warm. You’d think that four years of seeing him almost daily would have built up some tolerance in me, but no. My chest prickled with longing and love, my throat turned Saharan, my feet and fingers tingled. My expression was probably somewhere around Pathetic Adoration, though I was trying hard for Intelligent Coworker.

Mark leaned against my desk, which meant his crotch was, oh, let’s see, about a foot and a half from my face, since I was seated. Not that I noticed, of course. “Happy birthday,” he said, making it sound like the most intimate, most suggestive phrase in the world.

Face: nuclear. Heart: racing. Callie: half inch from orgasm. “Thanks.”

“I got you a present, of course,” he murmured in that voice… God, that voice. Low and soft and velvety…the same voice he used in the bedroom, as I well knew Yes, Mark and I had been together. For five weeks. Five wonderful weeks. Almost five and a half, if you really analyzed it. Which I had.

From his back pocket, he withdrew a small, rectangular package. My heart flopped as my brain raced with contradictory thoughts. Jewelry?Betty squealed. That means something. That’s romantic. So romantic! Oh! My! God! On the other hand, Michelle advised caution. Calm down, Callie. Let’s just see how this plays out.

“Oh, Mark! Thank you! You didn’t have to,” I said, my voice breathy.

On the other side of the glass-bricked wall that separated our offices, Fleur Eames slammed a drawer. The wall only went up ten feet; the ceilings were twelve, perfect for eavesdropping, and I guessed she was trying to snap me out of my daze. Fleur, a copywriter here at the firm, knew about my crush. I guess everyone did.

Clearing my throat, I reached for the package in Mark’s hand. He held onto it for a minute, grinning before he let go. It was wrapped in cheerful yellow paper. Yellow is my favorite color. Did I tell him that once? Had he filed away that little fact the same way I filed away everything he ever told me? I mean, really, it could hardly be coincidence, right? He smiled down at me, and my racing heart stuttered, stalled, then revved into overdrive. Oh, God. Could it be? Did he finally want to get back together?

I’d worked at Mark’s firm for the past four years. We were the only advertising and public relations agency in northeastern Vermont. Our staff was small — just Mark and me, Fleur, the office manager, Karen, and the two pale computer geeks in the art department, Pete and Leila. Oh, and Damien, Mark’s personal assistant/receptionist/willing slave.

I loved my job. Excelled at my job, as proven by the large poster on my wall, which had very nearly won a Clio, the Oscar of advertising. Said Clio ceremony took place eleven months ago out in Santa Fe. And in that beautiful, romantic city, Mark and I had finally hooked up. But the timing wasn’t right for a serious relationship. Well, that’s what Mark said. Honestly, has a woman ever said that? Not a lot of twenty-nine-year-old women truly have timing issues when it comes to being with the man they love. No. It was Mark’s timing that wasn’t right.

But now…now a gift. Could it finally be that the time was right? Maybe now, on the very day my thirties began and I entered into that decade where a woman is more likely to be mauled by a grizzly bear than get married…maybe today really was the start of a new age.

“Open it, Callie,” he said, and I obeyed, hoping he didn’t notice my shaking fingers. Inside was a black velvet box. Squee! I bit my lip and glanced up at Mark, who shrugged and gave me that heart-stopping grin once more. “It’s not every day my best girl turns thirty,” he added.

“Oh, gack,” sniped Damien, Mark’s assistant, who appeared in the doorway. Mark glanced at him briefly, then turned his eyes back to me.

“Hi, Damien,” I said.

“Hi.” He stretched the word into three syllables of contempt…Damien had once again broken up with his boyfriend and currently hated love in all its forms. “Boss, Muriel’s on line two.”

Something flickered across Mark’s face. Irritation, maybe. Muriel was the daughter of our newest client, Charles deVeers, the owner and founder of Bags to Riches. The company made outdoor wear from a combination of grocery bags and natural fiber. It was our biggest account yet, a huge deal for Green Mountain, most of whose clients were in New England. I’d only met Muriel once, and then only briefly, but Mark had been flying back and forth to San Diego, where the Bags to Riches was based. As part of the package, Charles had asked that Muriel come to Vermont and work as the account exec, so he could have someone close to him keeping tabs on things. And, as Charles was paying us gobs of money, Mark had said yes.

Mark didn’t answer Damien, who was quivering with the joy of running Mark’s day. “Boss?” Damien said, a bit more sharply. “Muriel? Remember her? She’s waiting.”

“So let her wait some more,” Mark answered, tossing me a wink. “This is important. Open the damn box, Callie.” Damien sighed with the heavy drama that only a gay man can pull off and hustled down the hall.

Cheeks burning, I opened the velvet box. It was a bracelet, delicate silver strands that twisted and turned like ivy. “Oh, Mark, I love it,” I whispered, running my finger over the intricate lines. I bit my lip, my eyes already misting with happy tears. “Thank you.”

His expression was soft. “You’re welcome. You mean a lot to me. You know that, Callie.” He bent down and kissed my cheek, and every detail was immediately seared into my brain — his smooth, warm lips, the smell of his Hugo Boss cologne, the heat of his skin.

Hope, which had been lying in ashes for the past ten months, twitched hard.

“Think you’ll make it to my party later on?” I asked, striving for perky and fun, not lustful and ruttish. My parents were throwing me a little bash at Elements, the nicest restaurant around, and I’d invited all my coworkers. No use in pretending; I was turning thirty, might as well get some presents.

Mark straightened, then moved a pile of papers from the small couch in my office and sat down. “Um…Listen, I need to tell you something. You met Muriel, right?”

“Well, just that once. She seems…very…” Hm. She’d worn a killer black suit, had great shoes…kind of intense. “Very focused.”

“Yeah. She is. Callie…” Mark hesitated. “Muriel and I are seeing each other.”

It took a few seconds for that to register. Once again, I was that stupid deer, watching mutely as the pickup truck hurtled down the road. My heart slammed to a halt. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Michelle Obama stood by, shaking her head sadly, her fabulous arms crossed in regret. I realized my mouth was open. Closed it. “Oh,” I heard myself say.

Mark looked at the floor. “I hope that doesn’t cause you any…discomfort. Given our past involvement.”

There was a white, rushing sound, like a river engorged with snowmelt and hidden debris. He was seeing someone? How could that be? If the timing was okay for Muriel…why not… Oh, crap.

“Callie?” he said.

Here’s the thing about being hit by a truck. Sometimes those deer keep running. They just bound into the woods, sort of like they’re saying, Whoo-hoo! That was close! Good thing I’m okay. Um…I am okay, right? Actually, you know what? I’m feeling a little strange. Think I’ll lie down for a bit. And then they wake up dead.

Excerpt from All I Ever Wanted by Kristan Higgins
All rights reserved by publisher and author

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