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Table of Contents

Making it Personal

Table of Content

Copyright notice

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Coming soon from Island Tales Press….

About the author

Making it Personal

K.C. Wells

Island Tales Press

Table of Content

Copyright notice

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Coming Soon

Titles already available

About the author

Copyright notice

Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written consent of the copyright owner of this book.

This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the F.B.I and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Editor: S.A.Meade

Cover Designer: Meredith Russell

Copyright © 2013 by K.C. Wells

All Rights Reserved

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

Thank you for your purchase of this title. I sincerely hope you enjoy this read but would ask that you please remember that the sales of my books represent a vital source of income. If you like my stories, please feel free to spread the word and tell others, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form.

If you see this book or others written by me offered on pirate sites, please report the offending entry to:

[email protected]

Chapter One

Blake Davis unlocked the main glass door which led into the reception of Trinity Publishing. As usual, he was the first to arrive, although he knew that Ed Fellows wouldn’t be too far behind him: his second-in-command would need his customary caffeine jolt to kick-start his day. He went into the small but well-equipped kitchen serving his floor and mechanically set up the two coffee pots that would be required by his staff. Another grin: how many CEOs did this every morning?

With the machines gurgling and the wonderful aroma starting to filter through the kitchen, Blake went to his office. The empty office next door reminded Blake of his lack of a PA, which he hoped to have resolved within the next day. He entered his private washroom and hung his overcoat on a hanger, pausing in front of the mirror.

Will today be the day?

No sooner had that thought crossed Blake’s mind, another was hot on its heels.

Just give it up, for God’s sake. You know he’ll never do it. He’d have to be at death’s door first.

Blake stared resignedly at his reflection in the floor length mirror, his fingers automatically manipulating the dark blue silk tie until it was perfect. He stepped back, casting a critical eye at the overall effect, trying to ignore the thought that had filtered through his brain with annoying regularity during the past two years.

His navy pinstripe suit fit his contours perfectly, the pale blue of his shirt a good color against the pearly skin at the base of his throat. The figure in the mirror was lean, slim-hipped, narrow at the waist, flaring nicely to a broad chest. Short, black hair framed a clear, creamy complexion, which brought out the startling Mediterranean blue of Blake’s eyes, so blue in fact people often thought mistakenly that he wore contacts.

One last look in the mirror. Funny: he didn’t feel any older. Those azure eyes stared back at him and Blake smiled tiredly.

“Happy 30th Birthday,” he whispered to his reflection. His ritual thought prodded him once more, prompting a brief swell of hope within his chest, but cynicism won out.

Not a fucking chance.

He puffed out a sigh of sheer exasperation and exited the bathroom. Tossing his morning newspaper onto the sofa by the window, Blake gazed down at London. It was only 7.30a.m., but already the streets below were steadily filling as people went about the business of getting to work in the cold, still October morning. He leaned on the glass, his eyes unseeing for a moment, his thoughts on his own situation.

“Christ, being thirty ain’t that bad, is it, boss? Thinking of jumpin’ already?”

Blake gave a slight start as Ed’s words broke through his internal meanderings. He smiled at his office manager who was standing in the doorway, his leather biker’s jacket slung over his shoulder.

“Cheeky sod.” He gestured with his head towards the kitchen. “Coffee’s on.”

Ed gave a moan. “’Ave I told ya recently that I love ya, boss?”

Blake laughed. “Just get in that kitchen and pour us both a mug, then get your arse back here. I’ll go through the plans for today.”

Ed briskly nodded and departed in search of his caffeine fix. Blake shook his head, smiling. He loved the effortless banter that always occurred between him and Ed. There was no formality: Blake might well be the CEO, but he interacted with all his staff in the same easy-going manner. Not that his father approved, of course, but then he’d run the company along much more regimented lines.

Just then, his eyes alighted on the portrait behind

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