CONSUMED Teaser and Giveaway

Thank you guys so much for getting my Facebook page to 5,000 likes! You guys rock so hard, and I love you. As promised, here's that long CONSUMED teaser:



Chapter 1

Two and a half years ago—correction, just two days ago—if someone had asked me whether or not I’d ever step foot inside of Lucas-Fucking-Wolfe’s Hollywood home again, I would’ve forced myself to laugh their question off. I would’ve told that person there wasn’t even a remote possibility of something like that happening because Lucas and I were through. And the entire time I said those things, I would’ve ignored the scalding hot knife of rejection twisting around deep inside my chest.

But now, standing in the middle of Lucas’s foyer with my old Coach suitcase a few inches away from my feet, I decide it’s a good thing nobody has ever asked me about returning to this house.

“Hungry?” he asks from behind me, breaking my thoughts. I’ve been with him for the last several hours, since late yesterday evening, but the sound of his voice is still enough to cause every muscle in my body to tense up. I glance over my shoulder to where he’s standing by the front door, punching in a code on the digital security system.

“No.”

How the hell can I be hungry when all I want is to push myself into his arms and breathe him in?
Lucas jabs one final button before turning himself in my direction, his hazel eyes raking up and down my body as if he’s drinking in the sight of me. It only takes him two strides to reach me, and I have to tilt my head back to stare up at him. That familiar, cocky grin that’s not only infuriated me more times than I’d like to admit, but also kept me awake at night with my legs crossed tightly together to dull the ache of wanting him, pulls across the bottom of his face. I’d be a fool if I didn’t admit that I’m in love with that smile—that I’m in love with the man himself.

“Ah, shit. You’ve got that fucking look again, Red,” he finally says, cocking a dark eyebrow.

“What look?”

He leans close to me. “Like you’ve got something to say.”

I move to cross my arms over my chest, but Lucas grabs both my wrists, pulling my body flush to his. He’s all hard muscles and roughness as his eyes study my face, and I feel my breath catch in the back of my throat. This is the first time he’s put his hands on me since he showed up unexpected—but completely welcome—at my grandmother’s home in Nashville several hours ago. He’d sat across from me during the entire jet ride to California, his expression serious and his hands nowhere they needed to be.

Like all over me.

“I’m shocked you didn’t try to fuck me on the flight,” I say honestly, and he chuckles.

“Anything else?”

I shake my head, making a few strands of my long red hair shake free from my high ponytail. “No.”
Lucas doesn’t look too convinced, and when I open my mouth to say something else, he places the tips of his fingers over my lips, working the tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger before moving his hands to the sides of my face. “What, Si?”

Closing my eyes, I clear my throat. “You sing a song about me,” I start tentatively, and I realize he must be nodding because I feel his hair sweeping back and forth across my forehead. “Don’t get me wrong, Ten Days has got to be the most . . . ridiculously romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me, but then you show up at my Gram’s house. You tell me I owe you two days and that you’ve got somewhere to take me.”

“Yes.”

“And then you bring me back to California.”

“Open your eyes, Sienna,” he orders. When I don’t immediately do so, his fingertips thread into my hair, pulling the rubber band out so that my red strands fall in heavy waves around my bare shoulders. “Open your eyes,” he says once more.

This time I listen and watch him carefully as he slides a few locks of my hair between his fingers.

“I brought you back to L.A. because I should’ve fucking done that months ago. You’re here because I plan to enjoy every inch of your body without interruption.” He bends his head, until his mouth is just a mere centimeter or two away from mine, and I can smell the spearmint from the gum he chewed during our flight intermingling with the scent of his Polo cologne. It's intoxicating, and suddenly, my mouth feels dry. “I brought you here because I plan to love you on my terms—at least for today.”

On his terms?

Frowning, I reluctantly pull away from him, slowly walking backwards to put enough distance between our bodies to give myself a chance to think clearly. I don’t stop moving until my butt knocks up against the bannister leading to the upstairs. He cocks his head to the side, and I reach behind me, squeezing the wood for support.

“What about my terms?” I demand as calmly as possible. “You’re not going to pull that shit on me again, Lucas. You’re not going to use me again for two days, or two weeks, or however long and screw me over again.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Because, if you tell me to get the fuck out again, I . . .” But my voice trails off because I don’t know what I’d do. All I know is that I don’t want Lucas darting in and out of my life, pulling me to him one moment and pushing me away the next.

I’d rather not have him at all if that’s going to be our fate.

He strides over to me, closing me in so that it’s impossible for me to step away from him again. Not that I want to this time. I lift my blue eyes up to his, challenging his gaze, as he hooks rough fingertips under the tight waistband of my shorts. “I’m with you now.” He jerks me to him.

Ninety percent of my body melts against his, molding against him perfectly as if we were made to do this with each other, but I splay my palm flat against his chest to prevent him from claiming my lips.
“For how long?” I question. “How long are you with me?”

The corners of his mouth quirk up, and he gives me a look that nearly undresses me. “I’m keeping you this time, Si.”

My own lips curl into a smile. “Let me guess, you want to devour me?”

He makes a motion with his head—one that’s not quite a nod or a shake. “And for you to consume me.”

Dropping my hand that’s blocking me away from him, I let him finish closing the space between our bodies, let his tongue push my lips apart. He tastes like spearmint and Red Bull, and I release a tiny moan as his lips cover mine. When he twists his fingertips into my hair, I draw him closer to me by pulling on the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

“You taste like sin,” he says before sucking my bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds.

It’s not the first time he’s said that to me, but that doesn’t make it any less sexy. It just makes me want him even more. “So do you.”

“We should eat,” he whispers against my mouth.

Shaking my head, I respond in a husky voice that doesn’t remotely sound like me, “Later.” Much later.

Our mouths are still devouring each other as we make it up the stairs, stumbling over a few of the steps in the process. When we reach the top, I shove the hem of his shirt up and he leans back, gazing at me incredulously. “Patience is your friend.” But he’s already dragging the dark cotton over his head, revealing his muscular body. I can’t resist touching him, tracing my fingertip around the outline of the dagger-filled heart tattoo in the center of his chest.

“Just like Google, huh?” I tease.

He nods, but says nothing, taking my hand in his to lead me to his bedroom. It’s the same as it was the only other time I came to his house—a startlingly erotic contrast of red and black, and I shiver as my gaze lands on the bed.

“Get naked,” he orders, leaning against the door frame and watching me intently. Swallowing hard, I nod, and turn to face him. Slowly, I unbutton my shorts and shimmy them down around my hips. When they fall to the floor around my feet, his chest visibly constricts, and I come close to losing my shit. “Do you know how many times I’ve fucking thought about this?” he asks.

I pause and stare over at him expectantly, waiting for him to give me an answer, but he motions his hand for me to continue undressing. I hear Lucas's footsteps moving closer to me as I pull my white tank top over my head, and he plucks the shirt out of my hands and drops it on the floor next to my shorts. “Do you know how badly I’ve woke up wanting to be inside you?” he demands, kneeling down in front of me. He presses his mouth against the lacy “V” of my panties.

“No,” I breathe in a low voice.

“You want to know?” he asks.

“Honestly.”

His warm breath fans my skin when he answers me. “Every single day since you left.” He skims his hand beneath the pink fabric of my underwear and lets out a low, animalistic growl when I tremble at his touch. “I’m not letting you go this time, Sienna.”

This is a promise he’s made to me before, but by the way he’s saying it now—by the way his hands are gripping my hips as if I’d disappear if he so much as let me go—I know there’s nothing in hell that will keep Lucas Wolfe away from me.

Not even Samantha.

My fingers clench by my sides as he drags my panties down my hips. No, I refuse to think about his crazy ex, at least for now. There will be plenty of time for him to give me answers about her later.
Right now is for him and me.

Running my tongue across my dry lips, I ask in a teasing voice, “What—you going to tie me to your bed to keep me with you?”

Lucas finishes drawing the pink lace away from my body before lifting his eyes to mine. They’re full of lust and need. “Later, yes.”

Though I didn’t believe it possible, even more heat pools in the pit of my belly. “God, Lucas—” I start, but he pulls me down on the floor with him, causing me to gasp. “What are you doing?” I demand, struggling to get up. He places one of his hands firmly on my belly to still me.

“Let me love you, Sienna.”

Of course, I know what he’s doing. I would’ve known before I felt his tongue flick across my clit, but it still doesn’t stop me from grasping at his long dark hair.

His fingers replace his mouth, spreading apart my slick folds as he glances up at me with dangerous eyes. “Do that again and I’ll tie you to that right now.” He jerks his head in the direction of the four-poster bed several feet away, in the center of the black and red bedroom.

My thoughts instantly go back several months, to the infamous red guitar pick he’d flicked across my breasts whenever I gritted my teeth, and I lay back, balling my fists into tight balls.

Lucas dips his head and kisses a hot trail from my stomach to my thigh and then back up again, stopping only once to circle my center with his tongue. “I’ll never get enough of the way you taste,” he tells me, splaying his hands on either side of my thighs. I prop myself up slightly on my elbows, despite how violently my body is trembling. “I want everything from you.”

My back arches. “And you’ll give me everything in return?” I murmur, digging my fingernails into my palms a little deeper, a little harder.

When he nods, his hazel eyes seem to grow even darker. “Whatever you want.” Then he lowers his lips, his tongue, back to my center, probing my soft flesh and making me cry out. My legs tighten around him, and my hands wander up to his shoulders, my fingernails scratching into his flesh instead of my own this time. I’m hardly aware I’ve tangled my fingertips into his hair again until his hands clamp around my wrists. He doesn’t release them until I come, until I’m writhing and moaning beneath his mouth. Until I'm done saying his name over and over again.

Slowly, he crawls his body up mine, not stopping until we're heart to heart and eye to eye. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask the moment I’ve caught my breath. I reach out to touch the side of his face, and he grabs my hand, bringing my palm to his lips.

“Because, I’m thinking of what I’ll use to tie your beautiful body to my bed,” he answers.

 *Note: This is subject to change at anytime.

Now . . . on to the giveaway which was inspired by the pic below that one of my wonderful readers sent to me! The giveaway is INTERNATIONAL!!!

Since Lucas has been slightly delayed due to my wonderful news from earlier this week, I'm giving away a Keep Calm and Wait For Lucas prize pack. From now until Monday 2/4/13, enter the Rafflecopter giveaway (found below) for a chance to win the following:

A Kindle Fire HD
A Keep Calm and Wear Lucas All Over You t-shirt
A Keep Calm and Google Lucas Kindle cover
and a Keep Calm and Sleep With Lucas pillowcase

 Good luck, everyone, and thanks for your amazing support. I <3 you guys.  a Rafflecopter giveaway

Update Time and News!

Hey everyone! I just wanted to give an update because I've gotten quite a few questions about why CONSUMED has been delayed . . .

I'm ecstatic to announce that Touchstone Books (Simon and Schuster) has picked up the Devoured series in addition to Tidal and Lucky Me (another new adult novel)! I'm thrilled to be working with S&S to not only improve my books but also bring them into bookstores.

So what does that mean for Consumed?

Right now, we're looking at an early summer release date but since Touchstone will be publishing it, that also means Consumed will be available for pre-order!

Thanks so much for your patience, everyone, and for reading my books. I ♥ you all!


And PS: There's a new Consumed teaser (a long one) coming up tomorrow!

Teaser Tuesday: Special Edition Part 2

If you're my friend on Facebook, chances are you've seen me gush over Dolls & Doms over the last few months (it's hot). Today, the fabulous Kelli Maine has released the cover. Here it is:

As well as the blurb:

Movie star Alistair Ingram strolled into Dolls & Doms private men's club in Las Vegas for his bachelor party and limped out with a torn shirt, red welts covering his chest and a broken engagement splashed all over the pages of every celebrity magazine in the country.

A session with club Dominatrix, Black Betty, will do that to a man.

... With Alistair's manager breathing down his neck and Black Betty's abusive ex-husband alerted to where she's been hiding for the past ten years, there's only one thing to do:

Lie.

And get the hell out of Las Vegas.

But the real ruse is on Alistair and Black Betty, because despite both of their best efforts, they've gotten under each other's skin. Can their explicit dance of domination and submission end in anything other than disaster?

THE SUBMISSION OF ALISTAIR INGRAM is the first in a novella series from www.DollsandDoms.blogspot.com, where erotic tales from the Dolls & Doms private men’s club are told in weekly episodes.

Goodreads link: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17205525-the-submission-of-alistair-ingram


Obviously, I know what I'll be doing February 12th! :)

Teaser Tuesday: Special Edition Part 1

Good morning guys! Today, I have a very special Teaser Tuesday--I'm sharing a bit from Lauren Blakely's book, Caught Up In Us! Here's the blurb:

Five years ago, Kat Harper fell into a dizzying summer romance with her brother’s best friend Bryan. It was a mad, crazy love full of kisses all through the night — but he broke her heart and she had to move on. Five years later, Kat is finishing her graduate degree and building her business as a jewelry designer, when Bryan, head of his own successful company, walks back into her life. Bryan has been assigned to Kat as her new business mentor and the rules are clear. No hanky panky permitted. That works for both of them. Kat needs to grow her business to help her parents; Bryan needs to run a clean operation after his former business partner’s romantic scandal that rocked his firm. Kat can handle that because she's totally over him... right? Except, he still makes her laugh. And he remembers all the things she likes. And he's more handsome now than he was then. Then there’s the spark between them — the simply undeniable chemistry. Can they resist each other? Or are they willing to risk everything for a second chance at first love?

And here's the cover:

And here's a sneak peek at what's inside:

“I’m dying to kiss you. I want to take you out to dinner, and walk around the city, and talk about anything and everything,” he said. I could barely feel myself anymore. My whole body was edgy, floating. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. I felt light-headed, like I’d just taken a painkiller and gotten that warm flush where it kicks in and spreads throughout your chest and belly. The little hairs on my arms were standing on end. “But I can’t.”

Teaser Tuesday: SAVOR YOU First Chapter!

I promised I'd post this when my Facebook page hit 4,000 likes, so here's chapter one of Kylie's story, SAVOR YOU. Thanks so much for your support, everyone--you all rock!

CHAPTER ONE

“God, he’s looking at you again,” Heidi says in a hushed voice. Gyrating her curvy hips to the technoed-up Adele song blasting through the nightclub, she peeks over my shoulder toward the booths lining the far wall. When I refuse to glance at the guy who’s been eyeballing us for the better part of an hour, choosing to toss back my drink and shrug instead, my closest friend gives me a dark look. “Like he wants to tear your jeans off with his teeth.  Like he—”

“Like he’s some stranger who’ll probably strangle the crap out of me when we go back to his hotel room. Thanks, babe, but I’m good.”

She frowns but I’m not sure if it’s due to what I’ve just said or the DJ’s newest choice of song—Heidi loathes Bad Romance. “You’re so morbid,” she finally sighs. Her gaze refocuses on something else, and this time, I turn my head to take in a short tan guy making his way through the crowd with two bottles of Shiner Bock held high over his head.

“More than one beer usually means they’re here with someone,” I say gently, but Heidi lifts her eyebrow wickedly and shakes her head to each side, her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair swinging around her face.

“Shiner Bock is here with those guys.” She jabs her finger at a group of men across the club. “So yeah . . .”

Heidi and I’d made a deal before we came out to Bourbon Street tonight—we were going back to our hotel room together. But by the way Shiner Bock’s face lights up when the two of them connect eyes, I know there’s no chance in hell she’s coming home with me. And that leaves me alone. I dart my eyes from the man in the booth—the one who’s been staring at me—then down to the empty glass in my hand. Conversation with Creepy Hot Guy? Vodka-infused drink?

Creepy Hot Guy.

Vodka. Infused. Drink.

“I’m going to get a refill,” I say.  Heidi offers me a jerky nod of her head. She’s already dancing with Shiner Bock before I make it three steps in the opposite direction. Obviously, he’s forgotten about the intended recipient of the second beer.

Heidi generally has that effect on men.

I shove my way through the club, and by the time I reach the bar and sit down, I’ve had so many body parts brushing against me that I immediately ask the bartender for a double shot in my Bloody Mary.

“Bored?” a voice asks behind me, and I’m not the least bit surprised to see Creepy Hot Guy. He slips onto the barstool next to me just as the bartender pushes my drink across the countertop.

I stir the stick of celery around my Bloody Mary, granting him a little smile. “Tired.” And I was. The trip to New Orleans had been last minute, and I’d barely managed to get all the flight bullshit worked out. Still, exhaustion was worth the alternative—having to be around my older brother’s band as they recorded their newest album.

“Ian,” The man beside me says, breaking my thoughts. He extends his hand out to me, and I glance down, not moving to take it.

“Kylie.”

“I’ve been wanting to say something to you, but I . . .” Ian’s deep voice trails off and he casts his grey eyes down at the counter.

I take a bite of my celery and wrinkle my nose. “You probably would’ve weirded me out less if you had,” I admit, but I can’t help grinning.

“Look, I don’t—” he starts, but I hold up my hand. It’s better to get this out of the way before I let him get too far into the conversation.

“I don’t do beads.” I nod my head at a few girls dancing around a few feet away with rows of purple, gold, and green beads dangling around their neck. “So don’t ask how far I’ll go for some. And honestly, I think I’d better get back to my friend.”

I’m already scooting off my stool before Ian’s face falls, making a quick getaway before he has a chance to retort. When a hand touches the small of my back, I spin around to face him. “Look, I’m sure you—”

But when I look up, it’s not Ian’s grey eyes I’m looking up into. These eyes are dark blue, and I could pick them out of a crowd without even trying. These eyes literally make my pulse speed up. I tighten my grip around my drink so I won’t spill it all over my boots. No, this is definitely not Creepy Hot Guy.

It’s the man I’d come to New Orleans to escape.

Wyatt leans down until his mouth is level with my ear. Despite the heat caused by all the sweaty bodies around us, I shiver when the piercing at the corner of his lower lip skims my skin. “Too fucking loud in here, Ky. Outside?”

Though I know I shouldn’t, I nod and follow behind him until we’re in the alley. Out here, I can hear not only the upbeat pop anthem playing inside of the club, but music from a street festival too.

Wyatt’s the first to say something—well, do something. He slips his hand behind my back, drawing me close to him until our bodies rub together. Too bad for him I’m not having it. I break our contact, stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans.

“What are you doing here?” I demand furiously, meeting his dark blue gaze.

“Why weren’t you in Nashville?”

I take a deep breath so I won’t tell him to go and shove the neck of his guitar up his ass. “I’m entitled to a vacation.”

Wyatt lets out a low, dangerous chuckle. “Taken the exact moment we were supposed to see each other again? That bull don’t work with me, Kylie. You’re avoiding me.”

Because he’s using my full name and since we once agreed to be honest with one another—no matter if that truthfulness aches like a fist to the heart—I give him the closest thing to a smile I can summon. “I’m entitled to a vacation that gets me away from you because seeing you always makes me want to slam my knee into your balls.”

Grabbing his chest, he winces. “You’re scary when you’re pissed, Wolfe,” he says, and when I open my mouth to correct my last name, his lips press into a thin line. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

Sighing, I pull my hands out of my pockets and reach up to grab one of the cigarettes tucked behind my ear down, sliding it between my lips. Wyatt produces a lighter and holds it beneath my face. As I lean forward, I stare up at him from beneath my lashes to see his face slowly furrow into a deep frown. “How’d you find me?” I demand, taking a long inhale of menthol. I support my weight against the brick wall as I wait for him to respond.

“Disable the Foursquare or I’ll do it for you,” he warns in that possessive voice that had me tripping all over myself a few years back. “Anyone can find you with that shit, Ky.”

I cock my head to the side and narrow my brown eyes into thin slits.  “Funny, thought I took you off my friend’s list.”

“Didn’t take Cal off of it,” he says, referring to one of his and my brother’s band mates.

“Nice.” That single word sound like poison rolling off my tongue. I take another long drag of my cigarette before dropping it to the black asphalt and crushing it beneath my foot. “Guess I see where Cal’s loyalty lies. So why’d you come?”

“Didn’t want to think of anyone else’s hands digging in that hair.” He reaches out to slide a few strands of my short black and blue hair through his fingertips. When I clear my throat, he closes the space between us. “Couldn’t stand the thought of you getting drunk and wrapping those legs around someone else.” As if to prove his point, he squeezes my thigh, flicking the tip of his thumb back and forth across the V between my legs.

“And now that you know my legs are safely locked at the knees?”

“I’m still not fucking leaving until you come with me,” he says.

I grant him a long, hard look, and he swallows hard, making the tattoo that races across his throat appear as if it’s moving for a moment. I don’t need sunlight to know what it says because I’d been with him when he got it.  All Does Not End Well.

Sadly, that’s exactly how things will go down if I go anywhere with Wyatt tonight or any other evening, for that matter.

“If I leave with you, you’ll have no reason to find me through your friends anymore. I mean, isn’t that your forte, babe? A big jealous showdown followed by an even bigger letdown?”

The edges of his lips twitch up into an apologetic grin and he works the tip of his tongue over the labret at the left corner because he knows good and well that crap drives me to distraction. It always has. “You forgot what happens between that showdown and letdown, Ky,” he says.

“Nah. Just didn’t see a point to mention that.” And that is the angry, mind-fucking sex usually fueled by one of our more epic arguments. Shoving my palms up against his hard chest, I push myself away and walk around him, but he grabs my wrist and spins me back around. “I don’t want you here. In fact, I’d rather be third wheel to Heidi and the guy she just met,” I say, but he shrugs my words off.

“You’ve got no choice.”

Of course I do. But when I try to shake free of him again, he shoves my hands over my head, pausing when his gaze locks on my ring finger. “Jesus, get that thing covered,” he growls, his voice low but audible even over the sound of Cajun music pouring from the festival in the streets.

Instinctively, I skim the pad of my thumb over the tattoo of my ex’s last name. “If you hadn’t come, you wouldn’t have to look at it,” I respond calmly, despite the harsh, familiar flash of pain in my ribcage. I want to choke this man. I want to curl my fingers around his freaking neck or slap him.

And after the storm is over—because I’m a glutton for punishment—I want him to kiss me.

I want that love from Wyatt McCrae that I’ve chased for years and that is the precise reason I’m here in the first place. I'm over chasing him.

Wyatt’s midnight blue eyes harden, and he slams my back up against the brick wall, causing the air to leave my lungs for all the wrong reasons. “Do you really think I need to be with you to remember you let some fucker put his name on you?”

“Should’ve done it first,” I counter furiously.

“I’m doing it now.”

Then his mouth comes down on mine, and like so many times before, I’m so lost in him that it causes physical pain to every inch of my body.

(This is unedited and is subject to change in the final version.)

The playlist songs from Chapter One:

Sunday Teaser #2: Consumed!

 As promised, here's a sneak peek at CONSUMED! :)

I sigh, arching my back when he releases my foot and dips his mouth to my ankle, his hazel eyes never leaving mine. Slowly, sensually, Lucas traces warm lips up my calf and past my knee. “How long will you be gone for?” I ask.

“Google is your friend.” Then, he offers me that cocky, half-smile that makes my chest—and everything below it—clench before nudging my legs apart and sliding his body between my thighs. “I should make you look it up,” he continues in a low voice, and I hug my legs tightly around him. 

Lucas immediately retaliates by squeezing my breast hard, bending his head to circle the tip of his tongue in a sharp motion around my nipple. A desperate sound rips its way from the back of my throat.
 

Lucas-fucking-Wolfe and those hands and mouth of his are going to be my undoing.

“Don’t be pretentious,” I say at last through gritted teeth. “How long is the tour for?”

Taking his hands and mouth away from my breast, he growls, “Stop grinding your teeth."

I sink them into my lower lip. 

Lucas shifts his body around until we’re chest to chest, eye to eye--my blue versus his hazel. When his dark, shaggy hair falls into my face, I try to reach up to push it back, but instead my wrists strain against the soft leather coiled around them. I’m left grasping at two handfuls of sweat-dampened sheets. 

“One month.  Twenty cities,” he says, tilting his head to one side.

“And Wicked Lambs is opening for you?” It’s impossible to keep my voice from hitching when I say the name of Cilla’s band. Nodding his head slightly to confirm, he traces his tongue around the outline of my lips. “Fun,” I mutter.

“You don’t sound fucking impressed.”

I struggle to sit up. “It’s not that, it’s—”

“You’re going with me.” Lucas draws back a little to take in my stunned expression. When I finally open my mouth to speak, he covers it with the tips of his fingers, which still taste like the melon he’d fed to me earlier. I pull one between my teeth, earning a look from him that takes my breath away. “You’re going because you’re mine, Sienna. Because I’m keeping you with me.”