N.J. Walters - Amethyst Dreams.pdf - Walters, N. J - yprasetya4

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Amethyst Dreams

ISBN 9781419920820

Edited by Shannon Combs

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book Publication July 2009

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With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

A METHYST D REAMS

N.J. Walters

Dedication

For my husband, who inspires me daily. There are not enough words to thank you

for all that you do.

Amethyst Dreams

Chapter One

Dr. Augustine Mitchell jammed the key into the lock and let herself into her office.

Her feet were killing her. She wasn’t used to wearing heels. Work boots were more her

style.

She closed the door behind her and kicked off the offending shoes. It didn’t help

that her heels were very conservative compared to most other women’s at the faculty

event. They were still much higher than she was used to and they hurt. She’d never

understood the feminine obsession with shoes. Give her a pair of flats, a pair of

sneakers and a good pair of boots and she had all the footwear she needed.

“Much better,” she sighed as she flicked on the light and padded over to her desk.

Without thought, she turned on her computer. Augustine rubbed the back of her neck

and rolled her shoulders, trying to release some of the tension. It didn’t help.

She hated faculty affairs, the mingling of academics, university officials and the

rich, who contributed to the university’s coffers. Still, they were a necessary evil.

Projects such as hers were in perennial need of funding and rich patrons were always

welcome.

“If I were independently wealthy I wouldn’t need to get dressed up every few

months and attend one of these things,” she muttered as she dropped into her chair.

The skirt she was wearing rode up her thighs. Scowling, she shifted in her seat, trying to

ignore the uncomfortable pantyhose encasing her legs like a vise. Pantyhose were an

instrument of the devil as far as she was concerned.

Augustine wore khakis and jeans for the most part and dress pants when she

couldn’t get away with a more casual look. The only time she broke down and wore a

skirt or dress was at weddings, funerals and faculty events, and she’d even been known

to wear pants to a wedding. White linen—but pants all the same. She’d have done the

N.J. Walters - Amethyst Dreams.pdf

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