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Dancing in the Dark

A spoiled rich debutante is seriously injured in a reckless motorcycle accident. Will she get rid of the chip on her shoulder and stop wallowing in self-pity long enough to let her physical therapist rehabilitate her?

Can her physical therapist leave behind a disreputable past riddled with addictions and betrayal long enough to let his charge help him heal?

Follow Sharise and Cayle's story and find out what happens when classes collide.

An Awe-Struck Release

Coming Soon...

Gracie C. McKeever

Gracie C. McKeever is a writer/poet from the Bronx, and has been writing since the ripe old age of seven. But not until 1994 when she earned her first byline (her short story FORGIVEN published in a brand new genre fiction magazine out of Colorado) did she begin to take her talent seriously and believe she could take her writing to the next level: completing a novel. To date she has finished several novels, two poetry collections, and is proud to have joined the ranks of the e-published--a growing list of authors who have caught the "new wave of the future".
Since her first byline, Gracie's work has gone on to see exposure in various lit and art magazines and other venues. Of particular note: poetry, short stories and novel excerpts have been heard over the airwaves on KFJC's morning show, Dancing In The Fast Lane With Ann Arbor (Unbedtime Stories) out of Los Altos Hills, CA, in the Silicon Valley; articles, poetry and novel excerpts have been published in Street News ("World's Oldest Active Homeless Paper"); and she has read her poetry on Pseudo On-line Network (Street News Review).

Born and raised in New York City and living two subway-stops away from the celebrated "Bronx Bombers" (Go Yankees!), Gracie is a incontrovertible "aunt material" and shares her apartment with her cat Misty (the nieces and nephews are in the will, but the cat is not .)

Gracie can so far modestly lay claim to these awards and Honorable Mentions, though she remains ever optimistic of bigger and better things for her writing career:
Honorable Mention, Quincy Writer's Guild Contests, 1993 and 1994 for fiction and poetry.
Byline: 1994 Summer Poem Contest, 1997 Sense of Place Poem, and 1997 Inspirational Poem (2nd Place).
Runner-Up 1994 Red Shoe Diaries Contest.
Semi-Finalist 1996 Writers Network Screenplay and Fiction Competition (Miles To Go, a young adult novel).
National Writers Association (NWA) 10th Place 1997 Novel Contest (Dancing In the Dark M/C Adult)
Quarter-Finalist 1997 Writers Network Screenplay and Fiction Competition (Never Let You Go, M/C Adult).

Reviews

4 STARS (highly recommended)

"I thoroughly enjoyed this book, which is well crafted and never loses pace."

Margaret Beasley -- SHARPWRITER



4 STARS

"I was instantly captivated by this story. I found myself pulling for Cayle and Sharise time and again in hopes that they would work through their problems to find out that they really were meant for each other. Gracie McKeever did not disappoint in this most fascinating story where love does indeed triumph in the end."

Kathy Boswell -- ROMANTIC TIMES


"You get so sucked into the story that you can't help but forget at times that Cayle, Sharise and their friends and family are only characters and not people you know from your everyday life. That right there makes Dancing in the Dark worth the read. Realistic and gritty with a little down and dirty, this book is going on my favorites shelf, or as close as I can get with an e-book."

Angela B. Mink-Torres -- Simply Ebooks
Excerpt

"Cayle? Cayle, are you awake?"

Distantly, he heard her, felt a beam of light from the hallway slash across his face as she cracked open the door. He groaned, pulled the covers over his head.

"Cayle? Get up. It's six o'clock."

Six o'clock? And? What the hell was she doing interrupting his beauty rest when he had only fallen asleep an hour ago? Damn, he hadn't felt this bad since his Jim Beam days.

He'd tossed and turned for hours last night, drunk on another chemical besides alcohol: adrenaline. He'd finally given in to exhaustion near dawn.

And here in the tiny annoying flesh, merciless and wicked, was the auburn-haired succubus at the root of his insomnia.

"Cayle?" She tapped his shoulder then reached for the comforter. She tugged and he burrowed deeper. Sharise sighed, tried again, to no avail. "Well, if you're going to be so stubborn about it..." She wheeled herself back towards the door, stopped when she heard him mumble into his pillow.

"What was that you just said to me?" Sharise whirled, headed back. It had sounded like he'd said "What a bitch". Okay, granted, she had been at her bitchiest with him before. But what gave him the right to keep throwing it in her face?

Cayle flung the covers off his head, sat up and met her glare with his own. "I said, how rich. Now you're finally eager and ready to work when I'm wiped-out."

"And why, pray tell, are you wiped-out? Late night partying? Sneaked in a girl after curfew?"

"I wish."

"Well, you said early."

"Not this early. The sun's barely up."

"When do you want to start, Cayle? We have to eat and I'm sure I can't do what you have in mind on a full stomach. We need time to settle, digest-"

"All right, all right." He lurched from the bed, stumbled past her to the bathroom and banged the door closed.

Sharise listened as he ran the shower, sat back in her chair and smiled, pleased with herself. She didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made her want to get under his skin, although this hadn't been her original intention when she'd barged in. She'd only been anxious to start.

And see him, vulnerable and tousled from sleep.

She closed her eyes, shook her head against the images.

That kiss, she thought. That had been meant to get to him too. Show him who was boss, knock him off-kilter. What it had accomplished was the opposite. She'd unsettled herself.