JULY 2009





JULY 2009









Get to know the Kelly family, Brisbane's most famous banking dynasty .


They're rich, they're powerful, they've always had everything they've ever wanted. 

Is there hope for them yet?




(Harlequin Romance)






(Harlequin Presents)






(Harlequin Romance)










«««« 1/2  Romantic Times


"Fast-paced and sexy, graced with great characters and funny dialogue, this one's a standout from start to finish."



Nancy, eHarlequin reader


"Ally Blake is fast becoming one of my favorite authors and this book really brings home to me why I like her writing so much. She has a gift for stringing words together in a way that makes my heart sing for the hero and the heroine. She pens believable characters, no matter their circumstances, trying to make their lives work in a way that does not cause undue pain. But when attraction strikes they have to grow and change. She creates strong heroines and alpha males in touch with their gentler side. Her heroine thinks of her hero, “a man who might be bullheaded, but then so was she. While he was also gentle. Gentlemanly. Incredibly strong. Generous. Funny. Attentive. He had a huge heart and the soul of a dreamer.” What a guy! I love this story—well done!"









Cameron Kelly







Rosie Harper







To follow the series of blog posts about the writing of this book, click here.















Katie Melua, "Pictures"




















































































































Grab a copy from

The Book Depository 

Free postage worldwide.


Or check out the eBook today!


Amazon North America

Amazon United Kingdom



««««1/2  Romantic Times


"Fast-paced and sexy, graced with great characters and funny dialogue, this one's a standout from start to finish."

Rock steady property magnate Cameron Kelly thinks astronomer Rosie Harper is an easy breezy free spirit with her head in the clouds, the exact kind of girl who can slide in and out of his life like a sweet summer breeze right at the very moment that is exactly what he thinks he needs.

Rosie too convinces herself that even though he makes her knees give way and even though her high school crush on him never really went away, Cameron is the safest man she could ever date.  With him surely she can never make the mistake of losing herself completely, when she knows he is the one man she can never have?

They both couldn’t have been more wrong.


Cameron Kelly opened the heavy side door of the random building, shut it smartly behind him, and became enveloped in darkness.  The kind of inky darkness that would make even the bravest boy imagine monsters under the bed.

It had been some years since Cameron had been a boy, longer still since he’d realised people didn’t always tell the truth.  Needless to say his two older brothers had made the monsters up.

When the small window between himself and the Brisbane winter sunshine outside revealed the coast was clear, he let his forehead rest on the cold glass with a sheepish thunk.

Of all the people he could have seen, many miles from where a man such as he ought to have been while commerce and industry raged on in the city beyond, it had to be his younger sister Meg, downing take-away coffee and gabbing with her girlfriends.

If Meg had seen him wandering the suburban Botanical Gardens, pondering lily pads and cacti rather than neck deep in blueprints and permits and funding for multi-million dollar skyscrapers, she would not have let him be until he’d told her why.

So he, a grown man, a man of means and, most of the time, sense, was hiding.  Because the truth would only hurt her.  And even though he’d long since been cast as the black sheep of the Kelly clan, hurting those he cared about was the last thing he would ever intentionally do.

He held his watch up to the parcel of light, saw it was nearly nine, and grimaced.

Hamish and Bruce, respectively his architect and his project manager, would have been at the CK Square site for more than an hour waiting for him to approve the final plans for the fifty-fourth floor.  This close to the end of a very long job, if they hadn’t throttled one another by now then he would be very lucky.

He made to open the door to leave, remembered Meg, the one person whose leg he’d ever been able to pull, even with two adept older brother to show him how, and was over taken by a stronger compulsion than the desire to play intermediary between two grown men.  His hand dropped.

Let the boys think he was making a grand entrance when he finally got there.  It’d give them something to agree upon for once.  He could live with being thought to have an ego the size of Queensland.  He was a Kelly after all; impressions of grandeur came with the name.

‘We’re closed,’ a voice echoed somewhere behind him.

He spun on his heel, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.  Though he hadn’t boxed since his last year at St Grellans, in a flash his fists were raised.  His fingers wrapped so tight around his thumbs they creaked.  Lactic acid burned in his arms.  It seemed fresh air, sunshine and tiptoeing through the tulips weren’t all the catharsis for an uneasy mind they were cracked up to be.

He peered around the huge empty space and couldn’t see a thing past the end of his nose bar a square of pink burned into his retina from the bright light of the window.

‘I’m desperately sorry,’ the voice said.  ‘I seem to have given you a little fright.’

Unquestionably female it was.  Husky, sweet, mellow tones drifting to him through the darkness, with a surprisingly vivid dash of sarcasm considering she had no idea who she was dealing with.

‘You didn’t frighten me,’ he insisted.

‘Then how about you put down your dukes before you knock yourself out.’

Cameron, surprised to find his fists were still raised, unclenched all over, letting his hands fall to his sides, before shucking his blazer back onto his shoulders.

‘Now, I love an eager patron as much as the next gal,’ the mocking voice said, ‘but the show doesn’t start for another half hour.  Best you wait outside.’

The show?  Cameron’s eyes had become more used to the light, or lack thereof.  He could make out a bumpy outline on the horizon as rows of seats decked out auditorium style.  They tipped backward slightly so that an audience could look upward without getting neck strain, as the show that went on in this place didn’t happen on stage but in the massive domed sky above.

He’d stumbled into the planetarium.

Wow.  He hadn’t been in the place since he was a kid.  It seemed the plastic bucket seats and industrial carpet scraping beneath his shoes hadn’t changed.

He craned his neck back as far as it would go, trying to make out the shape and form of the roof.  The structural engineer in him wondered about the support mechanisms for the high ceiling, while the vestiges of the young boy who’d once upon a time believed in monsters under the bed simply marvelled at the deep, dark, infinite black.

Finally, thankfully, one thing or the other managed to shake loose a measure of the foreboding that ruminating over rhododendrons had not.

He kept looking up as he said, ‘I’ll wait if it’s alright by you.’

‘Actually, it’s not.’

‘Why not?’

‘Rules.  Regulations.  Occupational health and safety.  Fire hazards.  Today’s Tuesday.  You’re wearing the wrong shoes.  Take your pick.’

He slowly lowered his head, glancing down at his perfectly fine shoes which he could barely see and he was a heck of a lot closer to them than she was.

He peered back out into the nothingness, but still he couldn’t make her out.  Whoever she was.

Security, ready to throw him out on his ear?  A fellow interloper, protecting her find?  A delusion, born out of an acute desire to change the subject that had shanghaied his thoughts since he’d caught the financial news on TV that morning?

‘Go now and I can reserve you a seat,’ the honeyed tones suggested.

Management then.  And strangely anticlimactic.

‘I’ll even personally find you a nice comfy spot,’ she continued, ‘smack bang in the centre, with no wobbles or lumps, that doesn’t squeak every time you ooh or aah at the show.  What do you say?’

He didn’t say anything.  As he could tell she’d moved closer.  By a slight shifting of the air to his left, the sound of cloth whispering against skin, and the sudden sweet scent of vanilla making his stomach clench with hunger.

Had he forgotten to eat breakfast?  Yes he had.  He swore softly as he remembered why.

The appearance on the financial report on the TV news by the very man who had made him a family outcast many years before had not been a bolt from the blue.  Quinn Kelly, his father, was a shameless self-promoter of the family business; the Kelly Investment Group, or KInG as it was irresistibly dubbed in the press.  It had been the man’s appearance itself that had left Cameron feeling like he’d been punched in the gut.

His father was the epitome of the Australian dream.  An immigrant who had come to the country as a boy with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back, and he had built himself the kind of large, rambunctious, photogenic family the press prized, and a financial empire men envied.  Tall, handsome, charming, straight-talking, the man acted as though he would live forever and the world believed him.  Needed to believe him he had his fingers in so many financial pies.

Cameron hadn’t realised he’d believed the man immortal too until he’d noticed the pallor make-up couldn’t hide, the weight lost from his cheeks, the dullness in his usually sharp that would only be noticed by someone who went out of his way not to catch a glimpse of the man every day.

For that reason it was highly possible that not even the family knew.  The rest of the clan were so deeply a part of one another’s lives he could only imagine they had not noticed the infinitesimal changes.

He’d lost hours trying to convince himself it wasn’t true.  And not for the kinds of reasons that made him a good son.  But because he’d felt the sharp awakening of care for a man not worth caring about.

It wasn’t even nine in the morning and already he wished this day was well and truly over.

‘The door is right behind you,’ the only highlight in his day so far said.

Cameron pulled himself up to his full height in the hopes the unwanted concerns might run off his back.  ‘While I’m enjoying the thought of you testing each and every seat for me, I’m not here to see the show.’

‘You don’t have to act coy with me,’ she said, her teasing voice lifting him until he felt himself rocking forward on his toes.  ‘I know that even big boys have been known to find comfort in the idea that there might be something bigger and grander than you are out there in the cosmos that will burn bright long after you are a two line obituary in your local paper.’

Surprising himself, he laughed.  Out loud.  Something he had not expected he’d do today.  But it wasn’t often people dared to sass him.  He was too successful, his reputation implacable, his surname too synonymous with winning at all costs.  Perhaps that’s why he liked it.

‘Your expertise on the ways of big boys aside,’ he said, ‘I saw the show years ago in middle school.’

‘Years ago?’ the husky voice lobbed back.  ‘Lucky for you astronomers hit a point at exactly that point in time when they said, “Well that’ll do us.  We’ve found enough stars out there for a hundred generations of couples to name after one another for Valentines Day.  Why bother studying the eternal mystery universe anymore?”’

He laughed again.  And for the first time in hours he felt like he could turn his neck without fear of pulling a muscle.  He had not a clue if the woman was eighteen or eighty, if she was married or single, or even from this planet, he was enjoying himself too much to care.

He took a step away from the door.  He couldn’t see the floor beneath his feet.  It felt liberating; like he was stepping out into an abyss.

Until he stubbed his toe, and then it felt like he was walking around in a strange building in the dark.

Something moved.  Cameron turned his head a fraction to the left and finally he saw her; a dark blob melting into the shadows.  If she was standing on the same level as him she was tall.  There was a distinct possibility of long wavy hair, and lean curves poured into a floaty calf length dress.  When he imagined seriously chunky boots he realised he didn’t have any kind of perspective to trust his eyes.

But he’d always trusted his gut.  And while he’d come to the gardens searching for the means to navigate his way around a difficult truth, the only real truth he had so far found was the voice tugging him further into the blackness.

‘How about you turn on a light,’ he said, ‘then we can come to an arrangement that suits us both.’

‘Would you believe I’m conserving power?’

There wasn’t a single thing about the tone of her voice that made him even half believe her.  His smile became a grin and the tightness in his shoulders just melted away.

He took another step.

‘Not for even half a second,’ he said, his voice dropping several notes giving as good as he got to that voice.  That husky feminine voice.  Mocking him.  Taking him down a peg or two.  Or three if he was at all honest.

He, a Kelly and all. 



Rosie kept her distance.

Not because the intruder seemed all that dangerous.  She knew the nooks and crannies of this place like the back of her hand, and after stargazing half her life she could see in the dark as well as a cat.  And the lazy way he’d held his fists earlier, like he instinctively knew nobody would dare take a swipe, she’d surely have been able to get in a jab or two.

She kept her distance because she knew exactly who he was...



From "Dating the Rebel Tycoon" by Ally Blake
Harlequin Romance July 2009

ISBN:  978-0-263-20777-4  Copyright: © 2008 Ally Blake
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. For more romance information surf to: http://www.eHarlequin.com


To my baby Boo.  You own my heart, you crack me up, you dazzle me daily, and it is my absolute privilege watching you become you. 

Love Mum xxx




















































The Wedding Date  |  Millionaire Dad's SOS  |  Getting Red-Hot with the Rogue

Dating the Rebel Tycoon  |  A Night with the Society Playboy  |  Hired: The Boss's Bride  |  The Magnate's Indecent Proposal

Falling for the Rebel Heir  |   Steamy Surrender  |  Millionaire to the Rescue  |  Billionaire on Her Doorstep

Getting Down to Business  |  Meant-To-Be Mother  |  Wanted: Outback Wife  |  A Father in the Making  |  The Shock Engagement  

A Mother For His Daughter  |  How to Marry a Billionaire  |  Marriage Make-Over  |  Marriage Material  |  The Wedding Wish



home      biography     bookshelf      blog stuff    fun stuff      my place      writing tips      get in touch