Carved in Stone Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Connect with me online

  EXCERPT from Chapter 1 of Created In Fire

  Contemporary books by this author

  Paranormal/SciFi books by this author

  Carved In Stone

  Book One of the Art of Love Series

  by

  Donna McDonald

  * * * * *

  Copyright 2011 by Donna McDonald

  Cover by LFD Design for Authors

  Edited by Toby Minton

  Edition License Notice

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should remove it from your device and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

  This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

  *** *** ***

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to my editors T Minton and K Lawson for their continued support. I appreciate your work and you.

  Thanks to all teachers, principals, and other educators for what they give to our children and society in general. My daughter was a teacher before she died. My nephew is a teacher. My son-in-law is a teacher. Both my editor were teachers. I too have been a teacher. I hope this book makes you laugh because I wanted to show how human teachers are as well as being extraordinary people. Please consider this book a tiny tribute to your dedication and love.

  Thanks to my nephew Derrick for calling me out on my word choices. The anatomically correct words in this novel are for you, honey. They aren’t exactly what you meant, but hey—I’m getting closer. I love that you are sharing my writing journey with me.

  Thanks to all the artists and dreamers in the world. Please don’t stop. This world would be a much sadder place without you.

  Chapter 1

  Will Larson watched the batter bubbles burst before he flipped the current batch of pancakes. When he heard the motorcycle roar up outside, he knew Shane had finally arrived for breakfast.

  “Good morning,” Will said, smiling as his youngest son came through the door sniffing the air like a hungry dog.

  “Banana walnut pancakes,” Shane said on sigh, walking into the kitchen of his brother Michael’s house. “Those are still my favorite.”

  Will tossed a grin in the direction of his son and then smiled when Shane walked over and dropped an affectionate kiss on his unshaven cheek. Shane looked like his blond-haired, Nordic-looking mother, but had definitely inherited his father’s size, exceeding Will’s height by several inches and the width of his shoulders even more. Will knew it would take the same quantity of pancakes he and Michael ate together just to fill the twenty-seven-year-old up, so he poured out batter to make another six.

  “So how’s the graphic novel business? Has the Winged Protector solved any more crimes or saved any more damsels in distress lately?” Will asked companionably.

  “Nah. His alter ego, Eric Benton, is mostly a monogamist. He’s still enjoying the last damsel. I did get offered a deal for action figures last week,” Shane said, going to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup.

  “Action figures? That’s cool. Was it a good deal?” Will asked, impressed that his son’s creative work was gaining popularity. He was doubly glad now that he hadn’t let Ellen discourage the boy’s comic book drawing too much.

  Shane shrugged. “It’s a toy company working with my publisher. My agent said they’re offering enough to buy a small house, plus a percentage of sales over time. I guess that’s pretty good.”

  Will stopped and stared. “Pretty good? That’s great, Shane.” He went back to flipping pancakes, smiling and proud.

  “I like the idea of getting a house,” Shane said. “I’m tired of condo living.”

  “When you get your house, maybe I can come live with you for a while. I think your brother is tired of me already,” Will said, wanting to laugh at the pained expression on Shane’s face. It would be hard for his youngest to bring home his one-nighters with his father in residence. Will was seriously tempted to do it for a while just to disrupt Shane’s habitual womanizing.

  “Yeah, I am tired of you,” Michael confirmed, walking into the kitchen, stretching and scratching the six-pack abdominal muscles he worked hard to maintain. It had been harder since his father had been in his house and doing most of the cooking.

  Will laughed at his oldest son’s comment about being tired of him because it was half teasing and half truth. The month he’d been living with Michael had been an interesting social adjustment for both of them, but Will had been relieved to have some company for a while, even if it was reluctant. The last year had been a lonely one for him.

  When he looked at Michael now and smiled, Will had the same thought he always had that it was like looking in a mirror showing him a picture of his past. Michael had inherited Will’s muscular build but not his height, which he complained about still at thirty-four.

  At five-ten, Michael was average in stature, but his wide shoulders, broad chest, and muscled arms only emphasized the passionate nature promised by his dark brown eyes and equally dark hair that hung nearly to his waist. Will’s Celtic heritage had branded his eldest hard.

  “Why are you tired of me?” Will asked, grinning.

  “You’ve been moping around my house, not dating, and barely working on your art. I’m sick and tired of being greeted by a giant marble penis every time I go out to the courtyard to work. Carve a damn leg or something, Dad. No matter how artistically impressive, a giant marble penis by itself is still creepy as hell,” Michael complained, making his father blush.

  To soften his words, Michael laughed and patted his father on a shoulder, sniffing the pancakes with appreciation. He loved to tease him but would never really criticize his father’s art. His mother had done enough of that when she and his Dad were married.

  Shane was laughing so hard at his brother’s comments that coffee was threatening to come out his nose.

  “So how long has the marble penis been leading its solitary existence?” he asked, pulling a coffee cup out of a cabinet to pour Michael a cup.

  “Practically since Dad sold the house and moved in here,” Michael said.

  Shane laughed harder as he handed his brother the coffee.

  “Thanks,” Michael said, savoring that first bracing sip. “I think Dad’s depressed, Shane.”

  Though Michael was joking with his brother, there was a serious element in his tone as well. Despite his father’s amazing financial success as a sculptor, his mother had never thought his father’s art was as important as his other work. As the oldest child, Michael clearly rem
embered all the fights his parents had had about the time his father had spent carving. Selling the house, which was also the place his father was used to working, had been as bad as the divorce itself.

  “Stop talking about me in the third person. I am in the room, not deaf, and not depressed,” Will denied, sighing over their concerns, which were way too close to his for comfort. “I just haven’t felt like carving. Throw a cover over it if it bothers you so much, Michael.”

  “Maybe the state of the statue is trying to tell you something, Dad,” Shane suggested, his amused but serious gaze on his father’s face. “Maybe the marble penis isn’t the only penis leading a solitary existence. The divorce was over a year ago. Mom and Luke married a few months after it was final. You’re not even dating yet.”

  Will turned off the griddle and set the mountain of pancakes in the middle of the table he’d already set for three.

  “Listen, Mr. all-but-dissertation in Psychology, when you actually finish that million-dollar doctorate at Johns Hopkins, then you can analyze me and my man parts. Until then you’re just my smart-ass son. Sit and eat—both of you laughing hyenas,” Will ordered, only partially minding their amusement at his expense.

  “Dad, you know Michael and I love you. At least let me give you my best dating advice,” Shane said, sliding into the nearest chair.

  He heaped six pancakes on his plate and covered them with a lake of syrup before he paused and schooled his voice into the businesslike tone he had learned from the man he addressed.

  “Shave your head, get an earring, and ride your bike around town. Your body is great for a man over fifty. You could be picking up the kind of women I do. Look, I got a tongue stud. You need to get one of these. Women love this kind of stuff.”

  Shane stuck out his tongue to show his father, who only rolled his eyes. He heard his brother snickering around a mouthful of pancakes, but merely ignored his jealous sibling.

  Will studied the tongue stud with a mixture of horror and shock.

  He looked at Michael, who only laughed, shrugged, and went on eating. His eldest son was crazy in love with a woman he couldn’t get along with for more than two minutes at a time, but even though the woman wasn’t in his life the way he wanted, Michael wasn’t always out chasing away the good memories with nameless, faceless blonds like Shane favored doing.

  His oldest son had only done that kind of mindless dating when the woman he loved got married. When she was divorced, Michael stopped chasing blonds and resumed chasing her, which is the stage he was going through currently. While it seemed fruitless to Will to want a woman so badly who so obviously didn’t want you back, he still never worried about Michael as much. At least Michael cared deeply about someone. Will wasn’t sure Shane even had the capacity to genuinely love a woman.

  “Shane, you’re missing the big picture. Do you even remember their names, what they did to you, what you did to them? Do you ever want to go back to any of them so bad you ache?” Will asked.

  “No. But I’ve not been looking for that kind of experience,” Shane said, shrugging away his father’s disapproval.

  Will pointed his fork at Shane. “Yes, you are. I raised you. You know I felt that way about your mother because I made sure you did. So I know you’re at least subconsciously looking for that whether you realize it or not. There is nothing like finding that one incredible woman who changes everything. There is nothing like exploring the full range of lovemaking with an equally devoted partner.”

  “What happens when that one incredible woman changes so much that she leaves you and marries a younger man? Do you just give up?” Shane asked sharply, daring his father to answer his question less than honestly.

  He and Michael both knew their father had taken the divorce very hard. They knew he had sincerely and faithfully loved their mother. Neither of them had really understood what had gone so wrong between their parents that it couldn’t be fixed. The divorce had not been easy on any of them, but their father was the one who hadn’t moved on.

  “Look—every relationship is a risk in some way. I had thirty-three good years with your mother. We grew apart, and she fell in love with someone else. I don’t know why these things happen. They just do,” Will said, getting up and refilling his coffee. “I am sad about the divorce but not really depressed. When the right time comes, I’ll find someone and start dating again. I have an open mind about it.”

  “Good. When?” Shane asked, watching his father walk back to the table and sit down heavily with a resigned sigh. He wanted to laugh at his father’s irritation with him, but he held it in. There was too much at stake to risk his father thinking it was just a joke.

  “When I’m ready and I meet someone, I will start dating again. There’s nothing wrong with waiting for the right woman to show up. I don’t need to fill the interim with tall, leggy blonds half my age,” Will said firmly.

  “Fine,” Shane agreed easily, his tone dripping with fake resignation. “I’ll take care of chasing all the leggy blonds half your age, Dad. Geez, you’re hard to satisfy. No wonder Michael is tired of you.”

  When his father glared at him, Shane turned to look at his brother, his gaze full of wickedness. “What kind of women does Dad pawn off on you?”

  “None—and I’m totally pissed now,” Michael said, putting as much anger in his voice as he could over the urge to laugh. “Dad’s always liked you better, Shane. When you buy your house, he’s definitely moving in with you.”

  “Oh, shut up and eat—both of you,” Will said, stabbing his pancakes viciously, tired of being harassed by his adult children. “I’m getting my own damn place as soon as I can.”

  “When? Mom said you gave all the money from the house sale to her,” Shane said sadly, shaking his head side to side in pity. “I guess that means you’re broke. That marble penis better grow a body soon.”

  At the vicious swearing following Shane’s comments, Michael shook his head at his father as well and made sympathetic noises with his tongue. “Did you ever even use the f-word when you were a principal, Dad? I don’t remember you swearing in front of me or Shane, until he ran over your Harley with his car.”

  Michael used his fork to point accusingly at Shane, whose glare matched his father’s, and made him want to laugh.

  “Thanks, Benedict Arnold. Did you have to remind Dad about me killing his bike?” Shane asked, pancakes all but falling out of mouth. Backing over his father’s beloved Harley was the only thing Shane had ever done in his life so bad that his father had been truly disappointed in him.

  “You’re the one making Dad mad this morning, not me,” Michael said, laughing at Shane’s pained expression.

  Since it was his house, Michael reasoned he could say anything he wanted to defend himself under his own roof. This included shifting his father’s irritation in his brother’s general direction and away from him. His obvious success at having done so made his smile even wider.

  “I’m definitely getting my own place soon,” Will said to his pancakes, even as both his sons laughed harder. “And I’m not inviting you two over for breakfast.”

  Shane pointed his fork at his brother. “If I never get banana pancakes again, you are a dead man.”

  Michael grinned and gave his brother the finger to let him know how afraid he was of him and his threats.

  “I am serious,” Shane warned, stabbing the air between Michael and him with his fork like it was a weapon.

  Will rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head. Sometimes he wished they had both taken more after their less passionate mother.

  Chapter 2

  Though celebrating her birthday in the dreary March weather had been depressing, Jessica Daniels didn’t mind being forty-seven because she was mostly happy with her life. She was close to retiring from her teaching position, and her daughter who dreamed of being an eccentric college professor was finally about to graduate with a Doctorate in Philosophy from Ohio State.

  While her daughter was just begi
nning her career at thirty, Jessica had started teaching high school art right out of college at twenty-two. Now she found herself constantly longing for a different life. She wanted to get back to her own art—whatever form it took now—before she got too old to want to do it.

  In fact, she wanted to get back to doing a lot of things she hadn’t done in a while, before she forgot what it was to want them too. So when one of her favorite former art students, Melanie Simpson—now Melanie Madison—had suggested she come to the café to scope out the biker guy who was fast becoming a regular, it hadn’t taken much to talk Jessica into it.

  Seeing him now in the flesh, Jessica totally agreed the balding biker was all tall-and-firm-body hunky, except for the massive arms and shoulders on him. The man looked to be six feet tall or better, which was not so intimidating for Jessica’s five-foot-ten height. She preferred tall men anyway. But the man looked big as well, which was a welcome deviation from the lanky, lean intellectual men she usually dated. You didn’t come across tall, big, and well-toned bodies very often, especially in men over forty.

  As Jessica listened to him chat with Melanie, she decided that the biker was very articulate, polite, and well-spoken. She also concluded there was a sort of raw power in his assertive tone. The man had the kind authoritative voice that it was just instinctual to obey unless you had trained yourself otherwise. Being a teacher of wild and unruly high school students, Jessica had a lot of respect for what it took to speak with authority and command.