Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Leslie Carroll is the author of twenty books in three genres, including a series of five nonfiction titles on the loves and lives of European royalty: Royal Affairs, Notorious Royal Marriages, Royal Pains, Royal Romances, and Inglorious Royal Marriages. She also wrote an illustrated hardcover “coffee table” book on a thousand years of British royalty commissioned by Sterling, the publishing arm of Barnes & Noble. She and her husband divide their time between the high-rises of Manhattan and the high elevation of Denver.

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A touching and hopeful look at the underworld of the office temp from hilarious author Leslie Carroll.

Meet Alice Finnegan: 30-something, single, and stuck in a cycle of horrific secretarial temp jobs. She's trying to fulfil her childhood ambitions of on-stage stardom while sharing an apartment with her 90-something grandmother, a feisty, funny, former Ziegfeld showgirl.

Along the rocky road to independence Alice encounters a colourful cast of oddballs, nuts, and control freaks (including members of her immediate family). And just to keep life interesting, she succumbs to the pitfalls of office romances and the perils of nasty bosses as she endeavours to keep her sanity intact and make that big break into the spotlights.

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Temporary Insanity

Avon Books

Chapter One

When he took me in his arms, almost literallysweeping me off my feet, I could smell the Bay Rum on his cheeks. It was a scent that took me back a few years ... back to the days when we were in college togetherand the sweetly pungent fragrance would be connectedforever in my mind with no other man but him,although it never went any further at the time than a sophomore'ssecret crush on a senior. I used to get a giddy rush ofanticipation and undergo a flurry of hormonal overactivitywhen the aroma of Jon's aftershave would float through thecorridors, announcing his imminent presence, invading mynostrils with pure, unadulterated lust.

These days we were no longer students, but pros at thiskind of thing. Torn between exploring the look in his deepbrown eyes (to see if he was as into this as I was), and succumbingto total fantasy, I chose to close my eyes and inhalethe Bay Rum. I was immediately transported to a sundrenchedbeach on Jon's native Caribbean island, wherebreezes wafted through coconut palms and an afternoon'sbiggest decision was whether to order a planter's punch or amai tai.

In all the time I'd known him, and certainly on every occasionwhen our paths had crossed since graduation, includingthe star-studded funeral of Nick Katzanides, the guidinglight of our alma mater's theater department, I'd wonderedwhat it would be like to kiss Jon; how it would feel to dancea salsa with our tongues; his strong, permanently tannedarms enfolding my body, holding me until I could feel ourhearts bongo to the same rhythmic beat.

The reality was even more glorious than I had imagined.And believe it or not, it was all in a day's "work." Show businessis an iffy career path at best, but boy-oh-boy, there aredays like today that make all the years of struggle and tenacityworthwhile -- when that trajectory can rocket you all theway to heaven.

"Okay, you two, you can stop now." The director's voice,evincing a slight impatience, intruded on my idyll. Jon and Ibroke our embrace. I gazed up at him. Already wearingthree-inch stilettos, I'd been standing on my tiptoes to getthe full benefit of kissing this six-foot-four demigod. "Jesus,that was amazing," I murmured to him, deliciously dazed.The kiss was the kind that could make a normally sanewoman lose her mind.

"Just trying to help you get the part, Alice," Jon murmuredin my ear. He gave it an improvisational nibble and I nearlymelted onto the floor of the rehearsal studio. "It's the least Ican do for an old C.U. classmate."

"An old C.U. classmate who doesn't have an agent," I whispered."I only got this audition because I wrote a note to thecasting director telling him we were old pals." Jon had comea long way since our days as theater students together. WhileI was one of thousands of young actresses with talent andtraining trying to make it in New York, competing for only a handful of roles compared to the number of parts written formen, Jon was blessed with being tall, dark, hunky, and gifted.He had also developed a reputation for being a genuinelynice guy in a cutthroat business. His star ascended quicklywhen, just a few years out of college, he was plucked fromrelative obscurity by a megawatt movie star producing herfirst film. She took one look at Jon's screen test and essentiallytold the casting director to wash him, strip him, andbring him to her tent.

From then to now, he'd become a household name in Hollywoodand was making a rare return to the New York stage. Iwas among the dozens of women called in to audition for thesupporting role of his wacky girlfriend. And it was true thatthe only reason I got a special appointment and the opportunityto read with the star himself was because we were oldbuds. Part of Jon's charm was that he didn't forget where hecame from or whom he'd encountered or worked with alongthe way, even if their careers weren't at the same level as his.

"Good reading, Alice," the director said. He and the castingdirector had barricaded themselves behind a long foldingtable littered with stacks of actors' photos and résumés,donut crumbs, crumpled napkins, paper coffee cups, and alarge bottle of Tums. "Strong work on the scene, and ... obviouslyyou two have some chemistry going there."

I felt the heat spreading into my hairline. "Well, we'veknown each other since ..." I realized I didn't want to giveaway my age.

"It's easy to work with Alice," Jon said graciously, preservingwhat was left of my professional dignity.

The director nodded noncommittally. "We'll just take thescript from you -- "

Oh, right, there's a script. This is real life, not my bluest dreams. I retrieved the loose pages from the floor, where Ihad let them slip from my hand during the make-out sessionwith Jon.

" -- and we'll be in touch," the director continued. "If youdon't hear from us by the end of the week, it means we decidedto go another way with the role." He wasn't makingany effort to move, so I approached the folding table andshook his hand.

Jon came over and gave me a soft peck on the cheek."Great to run into you again, Alice," he said, affectionatelyplacing his warm hand on the small of my back. "If I don'tsee you, good luck with your career."

"I really appreciate what you did for me this afternoon. Itwas very sweet." I was trying to express my enormous gratitudewith grace; that is, without bursting into tears or jumpingJon's bones (again) for joy ...

Excerpted from Temporary Insanityby Carroll, Leslie Sara Excerpted by permission.
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