Camy Tang's Blog, page 104

Review: Harmony Guide: Lace & Eyelets: 250 Stitches to Knit

Harmony Guide: Lace & Eyelets: 250 Stitches to Knit by Erika Knight

My rating: 3 of 5 stars



I'm impressed at the number of different lace patterns here. There are some that are truly unique. Some are similar to each other, but I haven't yet seen any that are too alike.

I have only two things I don't like about this book:

1) Some of the samples of the lace patterns were knit with too small a needle or the samples weren't stretched enough before photographing, because the pattern is very hard to discern. Several pattern samples look very scrunched up and it's hard to know if the pattern is appropriate for the project I'm doing.

2) There doesn't seem to be any organization to how the patterns were listed in the book. They're not grouped by type, by number of rows, by multiples of stitches, by suggested yarn gauge, or even by name. Whenever I need a pattern, I have to page through the entire book. There isn't even an index listing all the patterns so if I'm looking for a particular one, again I have to page through the entire book.

Sometimes I'm browsing through the book, looking for a pattern appropriate for the project I'm considering, but many times I find myself wanting to find a particular pattern and I have to page through the entire book looking for it. It's very frustrating. I'm rather surprised, because Interweave magazines tend to be very high quality and I expected better organization of a stitch guide. I'm also a little surprised they haven't come out with an ebook version by now. If they had, I'd definitely buy it because it would make it easier to search the book.

Overall, LOTS of really good patterns, but not my favorite knitting book because of the frustration factor.



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Review: Is It Just Me?

Is It Just Me? by Miranda Hart

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



Absolutely. Hilarious. The audiobook version is a must.

I adore Miranda! I wish I could buy her TV show here in the states!



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Winner and excerpt - Dangerous Waters by Sandra Robbins

The winner of
Dangerous Waters
by Sandra Robbins
Is
Amy C.

Congratulations! (I've emailed you. Please email me at camy {at] camytang[dot}com if you didn’t get the email message.)

I know the rest of you are crying into your tomato basil mozzarella salad that you didn’t win. Cheer up! Order the book!

SOME SECRETS ARE MEANT TO STAY BURIED Laura Webber is determined to uncover the truth behind her parents' murders. But after being interviewed about the unsolved case, she's abducted and dumped in the Mississippi River with a warning to stop digging up the past. With her life in jeopardy, she knows that her former fiancé, Brad Austin, is the only person she can turn to for help. The cold-case detective has spent years trying to forget Laura, yet he can't turn her away. But before Brad can wrap her in his protection, will their reunion be cut short by a killer threatening to silence Laura forever? The Cold Case Files: Uncovering secrets of the past
Excerpt of chapter one:

Even though Laura Webber had watched the prerecorded television interview on the six o'clock news, she couldn't wait to see the repeat at ten. She'd spent the time between the broadcasts finishing up paperwork in her office at the hospital, and then switched on the television to catch it again on the late news. She stared at her pale face on the screen and wondered how her friend and roommate, Grace Kincaid, had ever talked her into doing that interview.

She'd promised herself when she'd returned to Memphis she wouldn't dredge up the memories she'd lived with for the past nineteen years. And yet, there she was on the most watched television station in the city telling how her parents had died in a car bomb explosion when she was ten years old.

Grace, ever the professional reporter, stared into the camera to close the interview. "The deaths of Lawrence Webber and his wife, Madeline, are one of the many unsolved cases that have prompted local authorities to establish a new Cold Case unit within the police department. The Webbers are but one family who hopes they will soon have answers concerning the fates of their loved ones. I am Grace Kincaid reporting for WKIZ-TV. Thank you for watching."

Laura pressed the remote to switch off the television, leaned forward and folded her arms on her desk. At first she hadn't wanted to do the interview. The memory of seeing the car bomb explode and engulf her parents in flames still haunted her. Grace had reasoned with her that people needed to be reminded that a federal prosecutor and his wife had been murdered while his children watched, and she was right. It felt good to know she had told her parents' story.

She glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. Time to get home. If she was to make it to her early appointments with clients at Cornerstone Clinic in the morning, she needed some sleep. She grabbed her purse hanging on the back of her chair and slid its strap over her shoulder. A chill rippled down her spine as a thought flashed in her mind. The next hospital shift wouldn't occur for another hour. The parking lot would be deserted this late.

Her chin dipped against her chest, and she covered her face with her hands. Through the years she'd thought of what she'd lost that summer day years ago when her parents' car exploded, but it was what she'd gained that kept her awake at nights—the fear that someone was watching her and her brother, just waiting for the chance to annihilate her entire family.

After a moment, she took a deep breath, switched off her office lights and headed for the parking lot. Before stepping outside the hospital, she peered through the door's glass at the dark shadows covering the asphalt beyond the exit. Several streetlights appeared to be out of order. She squinted into the distance trying to remember where she'd parked her car. With the lot filled when she arrived earlier this afternoon, she hadn't been able to get her spot near the building. Scanning the area, she finally spotted her vehicle underneath one of the poles that burned brightly. The distance between where she stood and her car seemed to grow as she stared at it. After a moment she squared her shoulders, stepped from the building and walked toward her car. Her gaze didn't waver as she moved.

Halfway to her destination, the sound of a car door closing echoed across the parking lot, and she froze in place. She cast a glance around but didn't see anyone. A footstep echoed off the asphalt. Was it her imagination, or was someone out there?

She dug in her purse for her keys as she bolted toward her car. Without warning an arm circled her waist and squeezed the breath from her. A hand clamped a cloth over her mouth and nose, blocking the scream rising in her throat. Twisting and kicking, she tried to loosen her attacker's grip, but it was no use. Dizziness swept over her, and she struggled against it. But there was nothing to ward off the darkness that enveloped her.

Disoriented, she awoke with a start. Where was she? How long had she been out? She strained to catch a glimpse of something in the inky darkness that surrounded her, but she could see nothing. She blinked, and her eyelashes brushed against something.

She lay on her side, her arms behind her back. With a tug, she tried to pull her hands to her chest, but something cut into her wrists. She moaned in pain as the truth began to seep into her head. She couldn't see because a blindfold covered her eyes, and she couldn't move because her hands were tied behind her back.

What had happened? Bits and pieces of memory trickled into her brain. The hospital—she had left after watching the interview on TV and walked toward her car. But she didn't recall getting in it.

Then she remembered a cloth over her nose, a man's arm around her waist. Fear rose in her throat. She had broken the first rule she gave crime victims in her counseling sessions—always be mindful of your surroundings. But she hadn't been. Not until it was too late.

Now she lay blindfolded and bound somewhere. She stilled and listened for any clue that might give a hint of her surroundings. The steady hum of an engine and the slapping of tires on pavement answered her question. She was in some kind of vehicle heading toward an unknown destination.

She strained to pull her hands free, but it was no use. Her head jerked at the sharp slap to her face. "It's no use, Laura," a man's voice whispered in her ear. "You can't get loose."

The smell of tobacco and alcohol assaulted her nostrils and she gagged. Then cold fear shot through her veins. He knew her name. This was no random abduction. It was personal.

"Wh-what do you want with me?" Her dry throat burned so that the words were barely more than a whisper.

"I want to talk to you about your television interview."

Her heart pounded, and she tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry. "Wh-what about it?"

Something sharp nicked the skin beneath her chin. Laura tried to pull back from the knife's tip, but the man pressed it closer. "Some people I know don't want you talking about what happened. They think it's better to bury the past. What do you think?"

Tears rolled down her face. "What are you going to do to me?"

He laughed, and the sound sent chill bumps down her spine. "I'm going to make sure you don't talk to anybody else about that car bomb that killed your parents. Your search for answers is going to stop tonight. Understand?"

There was no denying what his words insinuated. He intended to kill her. Her body shook, but she pushed back the groans that rumbled in her throat. The vehicle came to a stop, and another man's voice cut through the silence. "We're here. Get it over with quick."

Before she realized what was happening, she was jerked from the vehicle and stood upright. A man's hand grasped her upper arm so tightly she thought it might cut off her circulation. He reached behind and yanked the ties from her around her hands. She pulled her hands up and rubbed her wrists.

Her knees threatened to collapse at the nudge of a gun against her back. "Now walk forward," he muttered. "And don't look back. Just walk."

"P-please," she begged.

"Walk," he snarled and pushed her forward.

Laura took a hesitant step and then another. Cold water seeped through the soles of her shoes, but she stumbled on. Her heart beat faster every time she moved. Would this step be her last?

A sound like water lapping against a shore reached her ears, and she shuddered at the familiar sound. He had brought her to the bank of the Mississippi River. Now she understood. A shot in the back, and her body would float downriver toward the Gulf of Mexico and never be seen again.

She clenched her fists and thought of her brother, Mark, his wife, Betsy, and their new daughter, Amanda, on Ocracoke Island. She'd never see them again. "God," she whispered, "watch over my family. Don't let them grieve for me."

Cold water rolled over her feet, and she hesitated. "Keep walking," the voice yelled.

She took another step and knew she now stood in the river. She inched forward until the water reached her knees, but the shot still didn't come. Suddenly a motor cranked and tires squealed. She held her breath and waited, but nothing happened.

With shaking hands she reached up, pulled the blindfold from her eyes and turned to stare to her left. The lights of Memphis blinked in the distance. The bridge that connected the city to Arkansas lit the night, and she could see cars whizzing along its roadway. It only took her a moment to figure out that she'd been brought to the northern end of Mud Island.

She turned slowly and stared behind her. There was no one there, and no vehicle sat at the side of the road. With tears streaming down her face she waded out of the water and collapsed on her hands and knees on the riverbank. A combination of fear and relief surged through her body, and she gulped great breaths of air into her lungs.

The melody of "Can't Help Falling in Love," her favorite Elvis song and the ringtone on her cell phone, pierced the darkness. She stumbled to her feet and headed toward the sound. Her purse lay in the grass about ten feet from the water's edge.

She pulled her phone from the purse and rammed it to her ear. "Hello?"

The voice that had chilled her in the vehicle drifted into her ear. "This was a warning, Laura. Let the past go, or next time you won't be so lucky." She cringed at the evil chuckle ringing in her ear. "Be sure and check the local news in the morning. They say history repeats itself. Just make sure it doesn't happen to you, too."

The caller disconnected. Laura pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it. After a moment she sank to her knees again, wrapped her arms around her waist and wailed until she was exhausted. Then she pushed to her feet and began to walk toward the lights of Memphis.

Brad Austin yawned and rubbed the back of his neck as he strode down the hall at police headquarters. He'd been up all night, and he was exhausted. But there was no time to rest. He hadn't thought this job as one of the detectives heading the new Cold Case unit would be as demanding as his former detective job, but so far it had kept him even busier.

He glanced at his watch and frowned. 7:00 a.m. He'd been at the hospital since eleven last night. If Seth and Alex, his partners, were in the office, he'd bring them up to speed on the Nathan Carson lead before he headed back to either the hospital or to the medical examiner's office, depending on whether Carson lived or died.

As Brad walked past the break room, he smelled coffee. That's what he needed right now. He stepped inside, poured himself a cup and sipped the hot liquid as he thought back over the events of the past few days.

Three days ago he'd received a telephone call from a man who identified himself as Nathan Carson, longtime accountant for a local crime family headed by Tony Lynch. Brad had been interested immediately because every cop in town wanted to take down the Lynch organization. Now with Tony retired and living in Florida, a new leader had risen from the ranks, but so far his identity had remained a secret.

At first Brad had been skeptical, but when Carson offered to identify the new leader of the family, he became interested. In addition, Carson also claimed to have information about the five-year-old cold case of a murdered undercover policeman for the Drug Task Force found on the banks of the Mississippi River in Memphis. He hinted at knowing what the officer had discovered shortly before he was killed. That statement had been enough to convince Brad this could be the lead he'd been waiting for.

Only the police and the FBI who'd been called in after the murder knew about the officer's last message to his superiors before his death. He'd discovered that drugs were but one of the Lynch family's businesses. Another was the transportation and sale of illegal aliens along the Mississippi.

Carson had promised to meet with Brad at his office today. That wasn't going to happen now because Nathan Carson's car had exploded in a ball of flames last night when he'd turned the ignition in the parking garage of the office building where he worked. Now he fought for his life in one of the city's best trauma units.

Brad narrowed his eyes and shook his head. He didn't believe in coincidences. What were the odds that two cold cases with suspected ties to the Lynch organization could be connected by a car bomb? The bomb squad had the remains of last night's bomb right now, and he could hardly wait to find out if it bore any resemblance to the one that had killed federal prosecutor Lawrence Webber and his wife nineteen years ago.

That case was another of the files that had been turned over to him when he'd taken this new job, and for personal reasons he'd like to see it solved more than any other. He drained the last drop of his coffee and threw the disposable cup in the trash before he headed down the hall.

As he approached his office, a uniformed officer stepped out and closed the door. "Good morning, Officer Johnson," Brad said. "What can I do for you this morning?"

The man jerked his thumb toward the closed door. "Late last night patrol picked up a woman they spotted walking from the direction of the boat ramp on Mud Island. They brought her to the station, but she insisted she could only talk to you. I just left her in your office."

"What she was doing out there alone late at night?"

The officer shook his head. "I have no idea. Wouldn't tell us a thing except she had information about one of your cold cases." He glanced down at his watch. "I'm off duty, and I'm ready to go home."

"I wish I could go home," Brad said with a sigh. "But it looks like my day is off to a good start. Are Seth and Alex in yet?"

"Didn't see 'em."

"Well, thanks for bringing the woman down here. I'll see what she wants."

Brad opened the door and stepped into the office. The woman sat slumped over the desk in his cubicle. Her head was buried in her crossed arms on top of the desk, and she didn't stir as he closed the door. She appeared to be sound asleep.

He cleared his throat, but she didn't move. He waited a moment before he crossed to where she sat and stopped beside her. "May I help you?" he asked.

A soft snore was the only response he received.

Brad grasped her shoulder and gave a gentle shake. "May I help you?" he repeated in a louder voice.

A scream tore from her mouth, and she jumped to her feet. She recoiled against the desk and stared at him with wild eyes. Then she relaxed and let out a long breath. "Oh, thank goodness, it's you, Brad."

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Guest and giveaway - Dangerous Waters by Sandra Robbins

Today my guest is Love Inspired Suspense author Sandra Robbins!

About Sandra:

Sandra Robbins, former teacher and principal, is an award winning multi-published author of Christian fiction who lives with her husband in Tennessee. Angel of the Cove, her first book in the Harvest House Publishers historical romance series Smoky Mountain Dreams, released in August, 2012, and was recently named the 2013 winner in the Single Title Inspirational Category of the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence. This award is given by the Birmingham Southern Magic Chapter of Romance Writers of America for excellence in writing romance. In addition in 2013 her Love Inspired Suspense books Shattered Identity and Fatal Disclosure were both awarded the HOLT Medallion in different categories of the Virginia Romance Writers of America contest to honor outstanding literary talent.

Dangerous Waters the first book in her Cold Case Files Series released the first of August and will be followed by Beyond These Hills, the third book in her Smoky Mountain Dream series in September.

To find out more about Sandra and her books, visit her at her website at http://sandrarobbins.net or email her at sandra@sandrarobbins.net.

And now, here’s Sandra!

My Kind of Town


I've lived in the South all my life. I love the drawl of the voices I hear every day and the friendly attitude of the people around me. It makes you feel good to drive down the road and be greeted with a wave or a nod by the drivers of the cars you meet. It doesn't matter whether you know the person or not. It's polite to acknowledge them.

When I began to write, I decided to set my stories in the South. The latest book, the first in a three book series titled The Cold Case files, that released this week is Dangerous Waters, and its set in Memphis, Tennessee. I lived in Memphis for a few years, and I loved that city. It's still one of my favorite places to visit. I go there to shop or to see a play or just enjoy being in the city. A few months ago, I attended the Broadway touring company of the musical Memphis and got to see it in my favorite theater, The Memphis Orpheum. It thrilled me to hear the lead actor sing “Memphis in My Soul” because I kind of felt the soul of Memphis when I wrote Dangerous Waters.

Even if you’ve ever been to Memphis, you probably know it sits on the Mississippi River, and that great river is very important to the plot of my story. Of course you can’t visit to the town that gave us the blues without going to Beale Street or taking a tour of the old Sun studios where Elvis recorded or seeing Stax Records that gave us soul music. Then there’s Graceland where Elvis lived, and the National Civil Rights Museum where Martin Luther King was assassinated.

So if you haven’t been to Memphis, I hope my book will give you an introduction to a beautiful city. And then come on down, have some of Memphis’s famous bar-b-cued ribs, take a stroll down Beale Street, and spend a lazy afternoon watching Old Man River roll by.

Camy: Thanks for being here, Sandra!

Sandra’s also giving away a copy of her latest release!

Dangerous Waters
by Sandra Robbins

SOME SECRETS ARE MEANT TO STAY BURIED Laura Webber is determined to uncover the truth behind her parents' murders. But after being interviewed about the unsolved case, she's abducted and dumped in the Mississippi River with a warning to stop digging up the past. With her life in jeopardy, she knows that her former fiancé, Brad Austin, is the only person she can turn to for help. The cold-case detective has spent years trying to forget Laura, yet he can't turn her away. But before Brad can wrap her in his protection, will their reunion be cut short by a killer threatening to silence Laura forever? The Cold Case Files: Uncovering secrets of the past
To enter:

You must join my email newsletter to be eligible for this contest--go to my website, and look for the purple chair to sign up for my newsletter. Then fill out the form below. Be sure to read the rules.

Extra Twitter entries: Get one extra entry per day if you tweet about this giveaway:
Christian romantic suspense giveaway @camytang Sandra Robbin’s Love Inspired Suspense DANGEROUS WATERS! http://is.gd/T1Ht2j
(Be sure to include @camytang so I can see your tweet and give you your extra entry.)

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(Be sure you share the post at the link above--go to the link and then click "share". Make sure you set the privacy of your share to “public” so I can see that you shared it and give you your extra entry even if I’m not on your friends list.)

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Excerpt - Fatal Inheritance by Sandra Orchard

Fatal Inheritance
by Sandra Orchard

"YOU DON'T BELONG HERE." Someone wants to stop Becki Graw from claiming her inheritance. Police officer Joshua Rayne is just as determined to keep his beautiful neighbor safe. She may not be the tomboy Josh remembers, but she's just as stubborn. Becki is intent on keeping her grandparents' remote farmhouse—no matter the danger. Becki's feelings for her childhood crush may be rekindled, but she's seen too much to risk opening her heart. As the threats against Becki escalate, the list of suspects grows longer. Josh must convince Becki to trust him with her heart—and her life—before a madman ends their chance at happiness…permanently.
Excerpt of chapter one:

At the sight of her grandparents' old farmhouse, with its wide front porch and empty rocking chairs, Becki Graw blinked back bittersweet tears. All her life she'd longed to live in Serenity's beautiful countryside, but not like this. She stopped at the roadside mailbox and grabbed the mail—a single letter addressed to her. No return address.

That's strange. Who would know to write to her here? She slid her thumb under the flap and pulled out the single typewritten page.

You don't belong here.

Her heart jolted at the cold, black words. Who—

She crushed the note in her fist. Sarah. Becki floored the gas and veered into the driveway, then punched her sister's number on her cell phone.

Sarah answered on the first ring.

"You've sunk to new lows," Becki fumed.

"I warned you I'd go to the lawyer if you didn't agree to sell and split everything fifty-fifty. You should've listened to me."

Becki ground to a stop in front of the white two-story willed to her by Gran and Gramps. It wasn't as if they hadn't left her sister anything. She'd gotten most of the liquid assets, not to mention all the financial help when her husband was in law school. Even if Becki sold the house, Sarah probably wouldn't come out that much further ahead.

While Becki would lose the only place that had ever felt like home.

She looked at the darkened windows and empty porch and swallowed a rush of grief. "I'm talking about the note."

"What note? I didn't send any note."

"Right. Because people are lining up to scare me out of here."

To think she'd once idolized her beautiful older sister. No more. At twenty-seven, Becki could finally see Sarah for who she really was—a spoiled trophy wife as materialistic and money-grubbing as her flashy lawyer husband. "Gran and Gramps wanted this house to stay in the family, and I'm here to stay whether you like it or not." Becki punched the power button and jumped from her packed-to-the-roof car.

Inhaling the sweet scent of summer in Ontario's farm country, she shoved Sarah's threats from her mind and turned to the home she loved so dearly.

If only the carbon-monoxide detector had worked the way it was supposed to, Gran and Gramps would be bustling outside to wrap her in their arms this very moment.

Becki scrunched her eyes closed as memories flooded her mind. Swinging from the barn loft into a pile of hay. Fishing in the creek with Gramps. Collecting fragrant bouquets of bouncing bets for Gran. Her summers here had been her happiest. More than once she'd begged to be allowed to live here always.

But not like this—not without them. She pressed her arm against the ache in her chest.

The sun dipped behind the trees with a splash of brilliant reds and purples as if Gramps himself was painting a welcome-home banner across the sky.

I can do this. I want to do this.

Let Sarah call her crazy for quitting her admin job and giving up the lease on her apartment. So what if she'd never find a husband in the boonies? Maybe she didn't want one. If Sarah's and Mom's unhappy marriage experiences were anything to go by, she was better off single.

Besides, Sarah didn't really care whether Becki found a husband or a decent job in Serenity. All she cared about was squeezing more inheritance out of their grandparents' estate.

Indignant-sounding meows drifted from the weathered hipped-roof barn behind the house.

Kittens! Memories of laughter-filled afternoons playing with each summer's new litter propelled her feet toward the barn. The light was fading fast, but from the way Mama Cat carried on, Becki would have no trouble finding them.

The meowing stopped.

She hurried past the enormous sliding door and pushed through the regular door next to it.

A flight of barn swallows swooped out a hole in the roof.

She paused while her eyes adjusted to the dim light slanting through the gaps in the weathered boards.

A yowl sounded from the back of the barn, but instead of a cat, her gaze lit on Gramps's 1913 Cadillac. Oh, wow! How could she have forgotten about Gramps's antique in here?

She drew in a deep breath. Now it was hers, along with everything else at the farm.

Sadness gripped her. Riding in the old car wouldn't be the same without Gramps at the wheel. She just wanted her grandparents back.

She picked her way around the farm implements, her gaze tracking to the car every few seconds. How she'd loved riding with Gran and Gramps, all dressed up in old-fashioned clothes, to the church's anniversary Sunday celebration.

Becki danced her fingers over the hood and marveled at how little dust coated it even after all these weeks. Gramps had always taken such pride in keeping it polished.

A soft mew whispered from the shadows.

Grateful for the distraction, Becki rounded the car. "Here, kitty."

A thunk sounded behind her. Heart pounding, she whirled on her heel. A puff of dust floated up from around a block of wood on the floor.

She peered up at the hayloft, thinking a cat must have knocked it down. The dust and smell of moldy hay scratched her lungs.

Movement flashed in her peripheral vision. Something big. Much bigger than a cat.

She ducked behind an upturned wheelbarrow and squinted into the shadows. "Hello." She took a deep breath, forced her voice louder. "Anyone there?"

A faint echo taunted her.

She strained to listen for movement, but she couldn't hear anything over the roar of blood pulsing past her ears. She edged around the wheelbarrow and scanned the other direction.

Something shuffled behind her. She spun toward the sound. "Who's there?" A figure lunged out of the shadows, swinging a hunk of wood.

She thrust up her arms.

The wood glanced off and slammed into the side of her head.

White light exploded in her vision. She dropped to her knees, tasting blood. The ground rushed toward her.

Swishing whispered past her ears as blackness swallowed her.

Becki gripped her pounding head. What happened?

She opened one eye. The sight of a strange, shadowy room jerked her fully awake. Unfamiliar smells assaulted her. Dirt. And…

She froze. Now she remembered. Gramps's barn. Someone had hit her.

She lifted her head a few inches and waited for the ringing in her ears to subside. She rolled onto her back and peered up at the loft. Was that where he'd been hiding?

Out of nowhere a beam of light flashed over the hood of the car.

She swallowed a scream.

The beam jigged across the barn wall, casting ghoulish shadows.

Hide. She had to hide. Pain rocketed through her head the instant she tried to rise. Gritting her teeth, she dragged herself away from the car—the first place he'd look. Only…why'd he leave, then come back?

She shrank behind an old tractor tire. The reason couldn't be good.

"Bec? You in here?" Joshua Rayne called into his neighbor's barn.

A gasp came from somewhere in the shadows. He rushed forward. "Bec?"

"Over here."

Josh jerked his flashlight beam toward the tentative response. Bec sat huddled behind a tractor tire, her face chalky-white.

Lowering the beam, he hurried to her. "What happened? Why are you hiding back here?"

"You scared me."

His heart kicked at the crack in her voice. "I'm sorry." He clasped her hand. Her fingers were far more delicate than those of the freckled tomboy she'd been the last time he'd found her hiding in this barn. He tugged her to her feet. "I saw the barn door open and—"

She swayed and clutched her head.

"What's wrong?" He directed his flashlight beam toward her face.

Shielding her eyes, she leaned back against the tractor tire with a moan and soothed her swollen lower lip with the tip of her tongue. "Someone hit me."

"Hit you?" Apparently that car he'd seen hightail it out of the farmer's lane a minute ago hadn't been just a couple of teens looking for a place to park as he'd supposed. He scanned her head for signs of trauma. "Are you okay?"

She pushed his light away. "I will be when you get that out of my eyes."

Josh redirected his flashlight to the floor.

A four-foot length of timber lay on the ground a few feet away.

"Did you see who hit you?"

"I just saw a shadowy figure."

"Tall? Short? Fat? Skinny?"

"I don't know." Bec clutched her head again. "Your average-size shadow."

He needed to get her inside and check her over properly. Irritability could be a sign of a concussion. He quickly swept his flashlight in widening circles. "Why'd you come in here in the dark?"

"I heard cats meowing and hoped to find kittens."

Of course. Same old Becki.

She stepped past him and stroked the hood of her grandfather's old Cadillac. "Then I saw Gramps's car."

At the emotion in her voice, Josh's breath hitched. Her grandfather had had a way of making troubles seem not so bad. The hours he and Josh had spent together tinkering on the "old gal" had been a lifeline after his mother had up and left Serenity without so much as a backward glance. But he couldn't help Josh through this loss.

Josh forced his mind back to the present, to his police training. "Did you hear or see anything that could help us identify who hit you?"

She started to shake her head, then winced.

Josh resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders and instead directed his flashlight at the items a thief might have been after. Nothing appeared to be missing, but he couldn't be sure until daylight.

Misty twined herself around his legs, purring. He lifted her into his arms and scratched her chin. "I guess you're looking for your supper, huh?" He turned to Bec, remembering how much she'd adored the cats as a kid. "I've been feeding them since your grandparents." He lowered Misty to the ground and let the explanation trail off rather than dredge up her loss. He pointed his flashlight at a box beneath the car. "The kittens are under there."

Her delighted squeal tugged a grin to his lips—his first since finding her grandparents' lifeless bodies.

He tugged the box out from under the car.

Bec sat cross-legged on the floor and gathered the kittens into her arms.

Josh chuckled. She hadn't changed a bit. For all her tomboy ways, she was still a soft touch. He gave Misty fresh food and water and then looked around as best he could without leaving Bec in total darkness. If only the barn had overhead lighting, he might find some clue as to who she'd surprised. Most likely kids out for a lark. He hadn't recognized the car he'd spotted as belonging to any of their usual troublemakers. He wished he'd gotten the license plate number.

Josh let his gaze settle back on Bec. Seeing her delight in the wiggling kittens, he could almost feel the years strip away to when they were both kids and life was carefree.

She winced, her forehead creasing.

"Hey, we'd better get you inside. Take a look at that bump. You might need to see a doctor."

A frown curved her lips, but she returned the kittens to the box and pushed it back under the car, which told him more than words would how lousy she felt. When she was a kid, not even promises of chocolate cake and ice cream had been incentive enough to drag her away from the squirming fur balls.

He didn't miss the way she braced her hand on the car fender to pull herself up, either. He moved to her side and, lighting the floor ahead of them, guided her with a light touch to the small of her back. "Do you feel nauseous?"

"A little. But I haven't eaten since lunch."

Outside the barn, he steered her toward his place. "Did you lose consciousness after you were hit?"

"I'm not sure. I think, maybe. Everything went black for a second or two."

"You probably have a concussion. I can do a few tests to see if you should go to the hospital."

She walked a little taller. "I'm fine really. I just need a couple of painkillers. All the doctor's going to do is tell me to go home and take it easy."

"Humor me."

She squinted up at him, then at the tree line that separated their properties and abruptly stopped. "Hey, where are you taking me?"

"To my house. You said you hadn't eaten, right?"

"You don't have to feed me."

"You're in no condition to cook. Besides, it'll be nice to have someone to eat with." Life had been too quiet around here since her grandparents' deaths.

"I don't want to put you out," she protested.

He nudged her forward. "It's no imposition."

She wavered a moment but soon started walking again. "Gramps told me you took over your parents' place after your dad died. Did you still tinker with Gramps on the old car?"

"Yup. Went with them on one of those organized tours they were always taking, too. Saw some cool places most tourists don't get to see."

"I wish I could've gone on one. Gramps said he'd take me when I turned thirteen, but that's when Mom left Dad, and I never got to come back for any more summers."

He steered her around his truck in the driveway. "Yeah, come to think of it, life got pretty quiet around here without you girls."

She swatted him.

He let out an oomph and clutched his gut. "Very funny."

He smiled to himself and mentally ticked off two of his concussion tests. Nothing wrong with Bec's memory or her aim.

He led her to the side of the house and pulled out his key.

"Feel like a steak?"

"Yuck."

"You're kidding? You still prefer a burger to steak?"

"Yup."

He pushed open the door, flicked on the light and motioned her in ahead of him. "What a cheap date. Guys must love you."

She squirmed past him into the kitchen, then hesitated, her gaze flagging about, pausing briefly on his Home Is Where the Heart Is plaque, then stealing his way. She looked more uneasy than a suspect in custody.

But unlike with his suspects, he felt strangely sad seeing her this way. "Have a seat at the table while I light the barbecue." He returned a moment later to find her nuzzling his three-legged pooch.

She spluttered at its exuberant kisses and wiped off the slobber with the back of her hand. "What's his name?"

"Tripod."

"I should have guessed. He moves amazingly quick for having only three legs."

Josh filled Tripod's dish, and the pooch demonstrated just how quick. "While the barbecue heats up, let's take a look at this bump of yours."

She finger combed her hair as if only just realizing how messy it was.

He resisted the urge to tease. Her honey-brown corkscrew curls had always poked out every which way and been peppered with hay or leaves or twigs, depending on where she'd last played.

Dropping her hand, she fidgeted under his perusal. "That bad, huh?"

"I didn't say anything."

She rolled her eyes. "You didn't have to."

He didn't bother to hide his grin. "Show me where you got hit."

She leaned forward and pointed to the back of her head.

He palpated the area. Her hair was incredibly soft and smelled faintly like citrus. "That's some goose egg." He reached into his catchall drawer and pulled out a penlight. "Look at me."

Her shimmering brown eyes turned to him, framed by the longest lashes he'd ever seen. Natural, too.

Her head tilted. "You planning to do something with that light?"

"Patience," he muttered at being caught staring. He flicked the penlight on and flashed it across each eye. "They look good. Equal and reactive."

"Why, thank you, Josh," she drawled, batting those long lashes. "That's the most romantic thing a man's ever said about my eyes."

"What?" He blinked, glimpsed her smirk and gave her a nudge. "You're cute, Bec." He tossed the penlight back into the drawer. "Now, stand up, arms out from your sides, and touch each hand to your nose."

She stood and obeyed his directions effortlessly.

"Okay, take a seat." He opened the cupboard next to the sink and grabbed a glass and the bottle of painkillers. He tipped two from the bottle, filled the glass with water and handed them to Bec. "Take these, and if you want, you can lie down on the sofa until supper's ready."

She planted her palms on the table and pushed to her feet. "I can't let you cook alone," she protested, then immediately clutched the side of her head.

"As stubborn as ever, I see." He scooped her into his arms and gently lowered her onto the sofa. "Rest. That's an order."
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Also, don’t forget that it’s Free Book Friday over at Harlequin.com--if you order two or more books, you’ll get their weekly featured book for free!

This week, the featured book is: The Deputy Gets Her Man by Stella Bagwell (Special Edition)

Grace Livingston Hill romances free on Google Books

I’m a huge Grace Livingston Hill fan. Granted, not all her books resonate with me, but there are a few that I absolutely love, like The Enchanted Barn and Crimson Roses. And the best part is that she wrote over 100 books and I haven’t yet read them all! When I have time, I like to dive into a new GLH novel.

I like the fact that most of them are romances, and I especially appreciate that they all have strong Christian themes. Occasionally the Christian content is a little heavy-handed for my taste, but it’s so interesting to see what the Christian faith was like in the early part of the 20th century. These books are often Cinderella-type stories or A Little Princess (Frances Hodgson Burnett) type stories, which I love.

And the best part is that they’re all set in the early 1900s, so the time period is absolutely fascinating! GLH wrote from before 1900 through the 1940s, and her books reflect what was, to her, “current” culture. Reading from her characters’ points of view about the flappers of the 20s to both world wars is really interesting to me.

Her books have been reprinted several times, mostly recently in paperback forms by Bantam, Tyndale, and Barbour. But I discovered a few years ago that some of her older books are now out of copyright and so the scanned ebooks are available for free on Google Books.

Google Books has both .epub and .pdf files available for you to download. The .epub versions can be read on any ebook reader, but they were created by processing the .pdf file with a word recognition software to translate it into a book file and there are often typos because the process isn’t perfect.

I like to download the .pdf files because those are the actual scanned pages from the original hardcover books, and when I read it on my computer or if I sideload it onto my Nook, it’s almost like holding the original hardcover book in my hands, minus the silverfish and weak binding and weird library smell. :)

(If you have a Kindle, you can send the .epub version to Amazon to email to your Kindle. I’m not certain how to sideload .pdf files to your Kindle, but I know it’s possible.)

I thought I’d link to the free GLH books I found on Google Books in case any of you would like to read them!

Aunt Crete’s Emancipation

Meek, work-worn Aunt Crete didn't mind staying home while her sister and niece hurried off to the seashore for a holiday with their high-society friends. The thought of having her other sister's son, Donald, all to herself brought unaccustomed happiness to Aunt Crete's heart. But how was she going to explain Carrie and Luella's rude departure to the man they had scorned as a "backwoods cousin," even though none of them had ever met him. Ah well, Aunt Crete knew she would love Donald, no matter what.

But the man who comes knocking on Aunt Crete's door is tall and handsome -- and it quickly becomes clear that the disapproving Carrie and selfish Luella have made a decision they will come to regret. Aunt Crete alone enters the fairytale world her benevolent nephew has come to offer.…

The Grace Livingston Hill website has a great feature with more information about the book and the time period, which was sometime before 1910:
http://www.gracelivingstonhill.com/aunt-cretes-emancipation-feature.html

I read this one a long time ago and remember really enjoying it. It’s not a romance per se, but it’s a sweet book.

A Chautauqua Idyl

Grace’s first published book was A Chautauqua Idyll. Published in 1887, Grace wrote the book in an effort to earn enough money to take the family to the Chautauqua Lake program in New York when her father’s health had forced them to move to Florida. It was the beginning of a long and productive writing career.

I haven’t read this one, yet, but I was happy to get an ebook copy since it’s hard to find in paperback.

The City of Fire

Lynn, the beautiful daughter of a small town minister, is deeply troubled by the barrier which has come between her and her former playmate, Mark. When Billy engages in a thoughtless prank in which Mark is mistaken for the son of a wealthy family, he is kidnapped and taken to a secluded house in the mountains. But that same night, when the lover of Mark's friend Cherry is shot and killed, Mark is accused of the murder, and cannot prove an alibi. Billy is afraid to tell the truth, but he alone can save Mark from this black affair. Will Lynn's faith be enough to bring strength and shine a beacon of light and truth onto Mark's most uncertain faith? Lamp Post is proud to present it's Fiction: Inspired series - timeless, inspirational books for all lovers of fiction who want to feel good about the books they read.

This was originally published in 1922. I can’t remember if I read this one or not. Oh well! I guess I’ll read it again! :)

Cloudy Jewel

Gentle, lovely Julia Cloud has devoted her life to caring for others. Now, after her invalid mother's death, she is without the financial means to live on her own. But she dreads accepting her selfish younger sister's offer to go and live with her and take care of her demanding children.

Then, just when Julia resigns herself to a bleak future as a servant in her sister's home, something amazing happens! Julia's lively young niece and nephew, her deceased brother's children, turn up on her doorstep with a thrilling proposition. Suddenly Julia is thrown into an exciting adventure--and she discovers more happiness and love than she ever dreamed she could have!

I remember reading this one a long time ago and absolutely loving it! It was published in 1920.

Dawn of the Morning

Though Dawn lived in a world of affluence, she couldn't find the comfort and love she so desperately needed. Her stepmother despised her, and her father ignored her. Then one day they came to her with shocking news: she was to be married--to the man of their choice.

Now it was Dawn's wedding day. She knew she should be filled with joy and anticipation. Instead, all she felt was hopelessness. For Dawn had finally found a man she could love, a man who seemed to understand her deepest thoughts and most-cherished feelings.

A man who was her fiance's brother .. .

I was really glad to get this on ebook because this was one book I didn’t have--I just never was able to find a copy at my library or at used book stores. This was published in 1911.

The Enchanted Barn

Thanks to daughter Shirley's courage and resourcefulness, the homeless Hollisters were able to transform a deserted stone barn into a delightful residence. Their ingenuity even astounded the rich young landlord, Sidney Graham, who found the place a new haven of happiness, especially when Shirley was there. But his glad willingness to help them renovate worried her Shirley could never accept charity, and she feared that he would one day forsake them and return to his world of wealth now that she was falling helplessly in love with him.

One of my FAVORITE GLH books out of all the ones I’ve read!!! It was published in 1918.

The Finding of Jasper Holt

That fateful night of the train crash their lives became entwined. And, despite the wild stories of Jasper Holt's past, young Jean Grayson's heart would never belong to anyone but this handsome stranger who had saved her life. But Jasper knew her family would forbid their love, so he made a promise to her that would one day prove his virtue to all those who swore to keep them apart.…

This is another book where I never managed to get a paperback copy so I was glad to get this on ebook! This was published in 1916.

The Girl from Montana

A family tragedy leaves Elizabeth alone in the vast Montana wilderness fleeing for her life from a man who desires to possess her. Along her perilous journey she meets a mysterious lost traveler on a path of his own. Elizabeth's journey to reunite with her family becomes on of danger, friendship and of learning who the Lord to whom she prays really is. As she makes her way East...will she find the home she is longing for and the love she has always desired?

I had a copy of this book in a Barbour anthology but haven’t read it yet. This was published in 1908.

Lo, Michael

When Michael was a homeless waif roaming New York's back alleys, he risked his life to save the life of another child, beautiful Starr Endicott. This act of devotion to a girl he worshiped from afar changed the course of his life forever, for Starr's grateful father sent him away to a fine school where Michael grew into a handsome, well-educated man of deep convictions.

Then he returned to New York, intent on repaying his benefactor and helping the loyal street kids who had been his only family. But from the first moment he saw Starr again, he knew he was helplessly in love. Believing he was not worthy of her, Michael vowed never to press his suit . . . until danger in the form of a vile, scheming suitor forced him to risk everything to save Starr once again.

This was one of the first GLH books I read and I really liked it, especially with the way it depicted the time period. This was published in 1913.

The Man of the Desert

Living a life of privilege, Hazel Radcliffe yearned for more. When circumstances find her lost and alone in the untamed Arizona desert, Hazel is surprised to find that her senses are awakened by the gentle kindness of a handsome stranger. Even more surprising is what she has found - love. And yet, Hazel realizes that the life of this gentle missionary is worlds away from her own, a world that she must return to. Can she ever return to her pampered and sheltered life after feeling like she is finally alive? Will she ever be able to fit in to the life of this man who has dedicated himself to God's service in a barren land? Hazel knows it is time for the greatest journey of her life, but will she be brave enough to take it?

I can’t remember if I read this or not. This was published in 1914.

Marcia Schuyler

When Marcia Schuyler's beautiful and selfish older sister, Kate, abandons handsome David Spafford at the wedding altar, Marcia offers to take Kate's place. Her offer is accepted, and Marcia finds herself married to a man she hardly knows.

Though David shows Marcia every kindness, she is painfully aware that he still loves her sister--a fact that strikes deep, since Marcia has begun to truly love her husband. Then Kate returns, and she is determined to win David back--no matter what it takes or who it hurts.

Now Marcia must fight to save her marriage and the man she loves from a desperate web of lies and deceit.

I absolutely loved this book, and the two related ones, Phoebe Deane and Miranda. This was published in 1908.

The Mystery of Mary

When a beautiful young woman approaches wealthy Tryon Dunham at a train station and tells him she is in danger, he agrees to see her to safety. Then, before he can learn any more about her other than that her name is Mary and she is running to Chicago, she is gone.

But Tryon cannot forget Mary's beautiful face and spirit. Soon he finds himself trying desperately to solve the mystery that surrounds her . . . a mystery that could overwhelm them both. And he determines to discover the true identity of the young woman he longs to protect--and love.

I remember I read and liked this one, although I don’t remember much else about it. This was published in 1912.

The Obsession of Victoria Gracen

The straight-laced little town of Roslyn was shocked when Victoria Gracen welcomed young Dick into her home. What would a gentle, lovely young woman want with a reckless trouble-maker? Especially one who had no plans to reform. So when Victoria tried to tame the boy's wild ways with tenderness and faith, no one believed she'd succeed. But they hadn't counted on one thing: only a heart of steel could resist Victoria Gracen!

I never read this book because I never got a copy before I got the ebook. This was published in 1915.

Phoebe Deane

Beautiful young Phoebe was desperate! Cruel and cunning Hiram Greene had declared his intention to marry her. At first, Phoebe didn't take Hiram seriously. After all, he couldn't force her into marriage. -- Then Hiram launched a shrewd campaign of deceit and lies about Phoebe. Soon everyone around her, even her family, seemed determined to make her give in to Hiram. Could she stop when Hiram had started before it was too late? Or would she lose everything--her freedom, her happiness, and her wonderful new friendship with handsome Nathaniel Graham?

Loved this, almost as much as I loved Marcia Schuyler! The story of Miranda continues in Miranda which unfortunately isn’t available as a free ebook. This was published in 1909.

The Search

In the uncertainty of a country on the brink of World War, the spirited and privileged Ruth Macdonald is drawn to a lonely soldier by poignant and sweet childhood memories of first love. John Cameron - a man whose soul is in turmoil over finding a love that surpasses all understanding, opens his heart to her only to have their newfound faith and love threatened by the treachery of an evil man who is determined to call Ruth his own...and by the desperate war that threatens them all. Can John find faith in the unseen God that has he has searched for? And can he claim the love of the beautiful girl who has awakened his lonely heart?

I read and liked this one, especially in the setting of World War I. This was published in 1919.

The Tryst

Patricia Merrill thought she was being adventurous when she ran off to New York, took a new name and a job as companion to an old woman. Her family would never be able to find her now. Then she and her employer took a trip to a charming hotel in the South. To her dismay, Patty discovered that a childhood friend, John Treeves, was staying there too. Perhaps he would tell her family where she was! She knew she must keep her identity concealed--so she pretended not to know him. But it wasn't long before John's sympathetic heart and gentle understanding won her over. And Patty was ready to embark upon the greatest adventure of her life.

I didn’t like this one as much as some of her other stories, but it was still very entertaining. This was published in 1921.

A Voice in the Wilderness

Margaret Earle is ready to conquer the world...one schoolhouse at a time. Armed with her training, her ideals and her plucky optimism, Margaret sets off for the barren Arizona desert only to find herself stranded and alone. At the mercy of Lance Gardley, a handsome cowboy who comes to her aide, she begins her journey of love with the small town of Ashland and it's inhabitants. And yet, in the midst of new friendships and schoolbook lessons, Margaret finds herself caught in a web of lies and deceit spun by the very people she has come to minister to. A deceit so great it threatens the very way of life of these small town people and to destroy the sweet beginnings of love with the handsome cowboy who has become her rock. Can Margaret and Lance overcome the lies that threaten to destroy them? And will they learn to turn to each other and to their strength in God to overcome?

I remember this was one of the first books by GLH that was set out west, so it was a little different from what I was used to, but it was a fun read. This was published in 1916.

The War Romance of the Salvation Army

A battered Army truck lurches down a muddy road that's been gutted with shell holes. In the back of the truck, a group of young women draw closer together, trying to encourage each other. Several flinch at the sounds of bombs exploding and machine-gun fire all around them. They all grab frantically at the sides of the truck as it tosses them about.

Yet, despite their fear and apprehension, the women are determined not to turn back. They will reach the wounded American soldiers -- for the soldiers' lives are in their hands!

Step into the world of the dedicated Salvation Army women ... women who went to the front lines of WWI ... women who calmed fears, bathed wounds, and uttered the prayers that led thousands of men to salvation ... women whose courage knew no bounds -- even if it meant death.

I haven’t read this one because it’s not a novel, it’s a book about the Salvation Army. This was published in 1919.

The Witness

A powerful story of grace from the pen of Grace Livingston Hill. Star athlete, student, and fraternity president, Paul Courtland watches while a college classmate falls to an untimely death. Struck by his own part in the tragedy, he seeks solace in the classmate's peaceful room-and in the faith he has discovered. A friend introduces him to a young woman who is certain to bring him out of his somber mood- and into trouble. After yet another tragedy, Paul must choose: to follow his emotions or his faith. Will his choice even matter to those around him?

This was a rather obvious allegory of Paul, but it’s also one of GLH’s most spiritual books. I wasn’t as interested since it’s light on romance, but it’s still a good book. This was published in 1917.

Guest blog - Sandra Orchard

Today my guest is romantic suspense author Sandra Orchard!

About Sandra

Sandra Orchard writes inspirational romantic suspense set in the heart of the Niagara region, Canada, where she lives with her husband of more than twenty-four years, two college-aged children and a husky pup with a fetish for rubber boots and remote controls. A former home educator, she received word of her first contract on her youngest daughter's first day of college. Sandra has an Honors Arts & Science degree with a major in math, and she attributes her delight in devising plots that keep her readers guessing to her affinity with mathematical problems.

The 2009 winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in unpublished Mystery/Suspense, Sandra was delighted to see her first novel, Deep Cover, released in September 2011 with Love Inspired Suspense. She's since contracted two more novels in her series Undercover Cops: Fighting for justice puts their lives—and hearts—on the line. Shades of Truth will be released in March 2012 and a third book will be released in the last quarter of 2012.

Sandra has always loved trying new things. Over the years, she's dabbled in a variety of arts and crafts. She's taken on a variety of construction projects from building a run-in for her daughter's horse to re-siding their first house, renovating bathrooms and installing trim and flooring. However, a back injury sidelined many of those hobbies, so now, when not writing, she enjoys hanging out with family—especially her new grandbaby—brainstorming new stories with fellow writers, and hiking or kayaking in God's beautiful creation. She loves to connect with her readers and can be found online at her website.

And now, here’s Sandra!


From the moment I saw this 1913 Cadillac convertible pull into our church parking lot, I knew I wanted to use it in a book. So I decided the heroine of Fatal Inheritance, Becki Graw, should inherit, along with her grandparents’ old farmhouse.

Of course, to write authentically about how riding in one feels, I had to ask the owners for a ride!


And since I write romantic suspense, my sweetheart needed to join me.

But let’s not forget the suspense! I grilled the owners on how my diabolical villain might sabotage their horseless carriage. I’ve got to tell you, it’s scary how easy it would be, if he were actually to do it, which, of course, I can’t tell you.

I learned that Horseless Carriage Clubs plan fabulous tours for their members to take in sights, from the comfort of their antique vehicles.


The quaint area depicted above is only ten minutes from where I grew up, yet I’d never seen it before our adventure!

My plan was to include quite a bit about such an excursion-turned-scary in the novel, but you’ll have to read the book to find out if the story went according to plan.

Thankfully, nothing scary happened while we were out for our excursion!


Not like these ghostly cars—one of which did make it into my book. Ah, research is so inspiring!

If you’d like to check out other intriguing pics and bonus features for Fatal Inheritance, visit: http://sandraorchard.com/extras/bonus...

Camy: Thanks for being here, Sandra!

Fatal Inheritance
by Sandra Orchard

"YOU DON'T BELONG HERE." Someone wants to stop Becki Graw from claiming her inheritance. Police officer Joshua Rayne is just as determined to keep his beautiful neighbor safe. She may not be the tomboy Josh remembers, but she's just as stubborn. Becki is intent on keeping her grandparents' remote farmhouse—no matter the danger. Becki's feelings for her childhood crush may be rekindled, but she's seen too much to risk opening her heart. As the threats against Becki escalate, the list of suspects grows longer. Josh must convince Becki to trust him with her heart—and her life—before a madman ends their chance at happiness…permanently.

Winner and excerpt - Shock Wave by Dana Mentink

The winner of
Shock Wave
by Dana Mentink
Is
Andrea W.

Congratulations! (I've emailed you. Please email me at camy {at] camytang[dot}com if you didn’t get the email message.)

I know the rest of you are crying into your tea and scones that you didn’t win. Cheer up! Order the book!

TRAPPED…WITH A KILLER? When an earthquake rips through San Francisco, the last person journalist Sage Harrington expects to run into is ex-soldier Trey Black. After what they survived in Afghanistan, she doesn't know if she can face him again. But now they're trapped in the bowels of a ramshackle opera house on a mission to find Sage's missing cousin. And they may not be the only ones. Someone is desperate to keep them from discovering the truth. With time running out and devastation and danger all around, Sage and Trey must put their trust in each other to make it out alive. Stormswept: Finding true love in the midst of nature's fury
Excerpt of chapter one:

The floor lurched under Trey Black's feet. Wooden planks, crippled by age and neglect, groaned like arthritic joints forced into movement. He waited one second, two.

Another quick jolt and the old Imperial Opera House stilled again.

The second jerk took him momentarily back to another place, to Afghanistan, to the smell of sun-scorched earth and gun oil, sweat and the tangible scent of fear.

He stood motionless between a row of chairs looking toward the stage, eyes scanning the ghostly fly tower with its combination of counterweights and pulleys, the rusty overhead lighting, the dusty floorboards, worn and marred. It hadn't been his imagination—a few of the fly tower ropes still quivered from the sudden movement.

His mind knew he was not in Afghanistan anymore, but his body had not learned the lesson. He rubbed the back of his neck and ran a palm over his hair, the wild thatch of it still an odd contrast to the buzz cut he'd had until he'd left the army behind a month ago.

It was not enemy fire.

Not the impact from a mortar volley.

The truth materialized.

Earthquake.

Small, probably not more than a 2.5, one of a number of quakes that had rumbled through the city in the past twenty-four hours. He'd heard some scientist on a morning talk show explaining that the miniquakes were the earth's way of releasing tension gradually as the tectonic plates ground together. Yet another scientist suggested the shakers could be warnings that the "big one" was coming.

Earthquakes were like people, he figured. Sometimes you couldn't tell if they were friendlies or enemies until it was too late. He shook away the thoughts and called softly into the darkness.

"Wally?" His voice echoed, bouncing in and out of the dark stalls, the mazelike warren of dressing rooms, rehearsal areas and the cavernous empty stage. It was a terrible place for a dog, but Trey had agreed to come check on the little critter when he was done for the evening as a favor to the caretaker. "Wally?" he said again, louder.

He caught the faintest sound, the barest squeak of a floorboard from the royal box, the ornate enclosure at the middle of the lowest tier of seating and the spot with the best sight lines to the stage. Long ago it would have been the place reserved for royalty or VIPs out for a night at the Imperial. Now, on a Sunday night, decades after the theater offered up its last real opera, it was tomblike.

He listened, body taut. The sound didn't come from the rascally dog. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did.

Nor did he understand why he took cover behind the proscenium and began a surreptitious creep toward the noise.

No reason to suspect it was anything dangerous.

This was San Francisco, not a war zone, and he was in an empty opera house. More likely his unease was paranoia borne of long months dodging sniper bullets or worrying that a careless moment on his part would result in death.

Like the journalist embedded with their unit.

The memory bit at him before he could steel his mind against it.

He recalled the look on Sage Harrington's face when she saw her colleague hit by sniper fire. Her camera fell to the ground and those eyes, those ice-blue eyes, locked on his, soldering the two of them together in her white-hot grief. She blamed him, it was clearly written on her face.

Blamed him, when they never should have been there in the first place. He felt the burn of anger at Sage for her reckless behavior, and himself, for the stubborn way his heart still kicked up at the thought of her.

Snap out of it, Trey. Sage has to live with her decisions and you've got to live with yours.

His mind circled the facts again.

Empty opera house, closed to the public for decades.

Whoever it was making the noise was a trespasser.

Find Wally.

Get out of the Imperial and go home.

He shouldered his backpack, heavy with the tools he'd been using to try to repair and replace the rotting wood of the lobby floor. A whisper echoed over to him, a hushed voice belonging to someone who shouldn't be there. A vagrant maybe, who had forced their way through the boarded-up windows perhaps, looking to escape the clinging October chill. He could still call it quits, look for Wally on his way out. It wasn't his problem. Not his responsibility. No reason to feel like he had to protect Mr. Long's investment from intruders. No reason to stay.

He took a deep breath and crept farther into the darkness, heading for the stairs that would take him to the royal box.

The chilled air of the opera house made Sage Harrington's skin prickle all over. Her own hands looked pale and ghostly in the meager light from her lantern, shaking slightly from the temblor she'd just felt and the oppressive blackness. It was ridiculous, really. Stupid certainly, to follow Antonia inside. Not the first time she'd behaved stupidly.

Something about Antonia Verde pricked Sage's instincts. The woman knew the truth about Sage's cousin Barbara, she was sure, something Barbara's husband, Derick, wasn't telling. Then again the whole situation might just be the product of Sage's overactive imagination. Barbara might very well be in Santa Fe like her husband claimed.

In Santa Fe.

Not answering the phone.

Not returning emails.

Nearly at full-term for her pregnancy.

Without sending so much as a postcard to check on the renovations to her beloved opera house. Sage had seen Antonia do something inexplicable—pick up a picture of Barbara from the glass side table and hide it under her shirt before sneaking out of the Longs' house.

The cold feeling deep in her stomach returned. Something had happened to Barbara, and Antonia had some information that would help Sage find the truth. She'd grudgingly agreed to meet Sage at the Imperial and talk. Why in the world had they agreed to meet here?

Toughen up, Sage. She would complete her mission, as a man from her past would say, and she found she could not hold back the feelings.

How many times had she thought about Trey Black? Wondered how things would have been different if they'd gotten to know each other somewhere else instead of the hills of northeastern Afghanistan? It seemed surreal, now, that only a year ago she was snapping pictures for a top-selling news magazine, simultaneously afraid for her life and struggling against a powerful attraction toward the captain.

She flashed back to Luis, his body falling at her feet, gone, at Trey's horrified eyes in his dust-stained face. Trey's shock remained only for the barest of moments. Then he was the hardened soldier again, barking orders, shouting into a radio, his attention turned back to the task, the mission, while the medic tried frantically to save Luis's life. Trey Black, a living reminder of the worst moment in her life, simply refused to get out of her head.

Sage shook herself and tried to offer up another prayer for Barbara. No words would come. Only the same impenetrable silence, the same darkness that had cloaked her since her return.

The sound of a stair creaking stirred her senses. Though the stairs to the box were still more or less covered in tattered carpet, the old wood complained under the weight of someone's approach.

Someone? She mentally chided herself. It was Antonia, of course, passing the time while waiting for Sage. Who else would be interested in this old relic? She wished she could shine her lantern into the stairwell, but she resisted the urge. Instead she drew back into the farthest corner of the box and held the light down behind the seat. If she'd learned anything being in a war zone it was that being cautious could save your life. Unfortunately, her caution seemed to have slid into the realm of paranoia. She'd wait to be sure it was Antonia.

A vibration started under her feet, rattling harder and harder until the building seemed to come alive around her. Earthquake—and this time, much more powerful. She held on to the arm of the seat. A rending of wood sounded above her head. It must be the overhead balcony, tearing away from its moorings.

Panic swelled through her as she fought to stand against the bucking floor.

She yanked herself upright and tried to get to the exit, but she went down on one knee again, something sharp cutting through her jeans.

A roar from above made her throw her hands over her head as a section of the ceiling gave way. Fragments of plaster and wood rained down, swallowing up her scream. Dust coated her mouth as she gasped for air, panic bringing her back to the war zone, filling her gut with black despair. There was a heavy pressure and then silence.

Sage was not sure in that moment if she was alive or dead. Her own rasping breath confirmed that she was indeed living and conscious. Though the box was bathed in darkness, a weak light came from the gaping hole in the ceiling where the balcony above had come crashing through. A thick layer of dust drifted downward.

Just breathe, take it slow.

She coughed out a mouthful of plaster dust and took stock. Aside from general aches, she did not feel any lancing pain. Gingerly, she wiggled her legs and arms, turning her neck slowly to one side. She struggled to sit up but something heavy lay across her shoulders, pressing her down. She quelled the panic.

A few more deep breaths and she worked again on wriggling her legs, propelling herself forward since she had no hope of lifting the thick beam. Fortunately, it had fallen across the span of two seats, leaving a small spot of clearance. Sage scooted forward again, her feet scrabbling for purchase.

Maybe it was a whisper of movement, or the slow exhalation of breath, but in a sudden wash of fear, Sage knew she was not alone.

"Antonia?" she whispered.

No one answered. Perhaps she had imagined the presence. Her doctor would say it was a symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder. She caught sight of the lantern, which had tumbled down the aisle and now lay a few feet away.

She pulled herself forward, her efforts only netting her a few inches before she had to stop for breath, face bathed in a combination of sweat and grime.

The sound of quietly placed footsteps caused her to freeze. They were made by someone heavy and solid, not by the willowy Antonia.

"Who is it?" she hissed. Whoever it was came closer, but try as she might, she could not twist herself into a position to look up. Some part of her, the deep-down place where instinct lay, told her whoever was in that box had not come to help.

"People know I'm here," she said quickly. "People are coming."

The feet moved closer. Sage could feel the boards shifting and bending under the stranger's weight.

She could see only the shadow in her peripheral vision, someone watching, thinking. The gloom that settled over her pressed fear deep into her pores. She was immobilized, trapped and in darkness as this person closed the gap between them.

Her blood pounded in her veins. She would yell, but who would hear her?

In a scrabble of noise, something hurtled into the box, knocking over the lantern.

She screamed as the thing streaked at her, eyes glowing.

Then a wet tongue swabbed her face. She batted at the creature, which her brain finally identified as a dog. The exuberant tongue was attached to a wiry animal with a head that seemed too small for its lanky body.

Shoving him away, she tried to get a glimpse of the stranger.

She realized she was alone again. Whoever had left her trapped there was gone.

Relief made her shiver, and she reached out to finger the dog's velvety ears, which started out erect and then flopped over at the tips.

"Where did you come from?" she managed. He licked her again and sniffed her hair. The dog stopped midsniff, cocked his small wedge of a head.

"Hear something, boy?" she whispered, skin prickling. Was the stranger coming back?

After another moment of listening, the dog took off through the doorway.

She wanted to call after him, to bring the friendly, warm animal back. Instead she applied every ounce of her strength into freeing herself from her entrapment. Inch by painful inch she yanked herself out, scraping her legs in the process. Anger rippled through her like a shock wave. The stranger hadn't gotten far and Sage was going to find out who it was.

She heard the rumble as she ran, the faraway sound of a door being slammed, or a heavy box being dropped onto a cement floor. She reached the bottom stairs and collided with a man heading up. He was big, over six feet and solidly muscled, and her five-foot-four-inch frame bounced off his chest like a tennis ball hitting a racket.

The man's flashlight tumbled down and landed at his feet with a soft thunk.

He picked it up, holding it with one hand, the other hand readied in a fist in front of him as if he was expecting an attack.

Sage shielded her face from the light. "Who are you?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "You want my rank and serial number, or will the name suffice?"

Shock settled over her in a numbing blanket. She didn't need him to repeat the question. The Southern lilt of his voice, the smile she heard hidden in the words. There was no one else it could possibly be. He looked odd in civilian clothes, and the flicker of uncertainty on his face was definitely out of place.

She took the hand he offered and got to her feet, legs gone suddenly shaky. He pulled her up and close to him, one hand grasping hers tightly and the other cradling her shoulder with the gentlest of touches. For a moment she could not summon the strength to balance on her own and she pressed close, her heart swimming with a tide of memory that threatened to drown her. "Thank you."

Something in her voice must have sounded familiar enough. He lowered the light to play it across her face, and in doing so illuminated his own, the planes of his cheeks and forehead and the look of complete shock that materialized on his face. "It can't be," he whispered.

She heaved in a breath and stood up as straight as she could manage. "Do you want my rank and serial number? Or will the name suffice?"

Trey was not a man comfortable with conversation, and in that moment, words failed him utterly. He stared at Sage in disbelief. Her heart-shaped face, dusty though it was, those blue eyes, were unmistakable. He felt like turning on his heel and marching away to give himself time to think. Instead he forced out a glib remark. "Well, ma'am, this is better than the last place we met."

It was the wrong thing to say. Her expression grew distant and shuttered. He stumbled on. "Are you hurt? I heard a crash."

She waved a hand. "Part of the balcony fell. I'm not hurt. Just dirty."

"Why are you here in this old relic?"
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Guest and giveaway - SHOCK WAVE by Dana Mentink

Today my guest is Love Inspired Suspense author Dana Mentink!

About Dana

Dana Mentink lives in California, where the weather is golden and the cheese is divine. Her family includes two girls (affectionately nicknamed Yogi and Boo Boo.) Papa Bear works for the fire department and he met Dana doing a dinner theater production of The Velveteen Rabbit. Ironically, their parts were husband and wife.

Dana is a 2009 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year finalist for romantic suspense and an award winner in the Pacific Northwest Writers Literary Contest. Her novel Betrayal in the Badlands won a 2010 RT Book Reviews Reviewer's Choice Award. She has enjoyed writing a mystery series for Barbour Books and more than ten novels to date for Love Inspired Suspense.

She spent her college years competing in speech and debate tournaments all around the country. Besides writing, she busies herself teaching elementary school and reviewing books for her blog. Mostly, she loves to be home with her family, a dog with social anxiety problems, a chubby box turtle and a quirky parakeet.

Dana loves to hear from her readers via her website or her Facebook reader page.

And now, here's Dana!

1) How did you get the idea for the story premise of SHOCK WAVE?

Living in California, it’s not hard to imagine “the Big One.” We’re constantly reminded by little shakers that our state is riddled with fault lines. I have vivid memories of the Loma Prieta quake which happened during the third game of the world series between the Oakland A’s and the San Francisco Giants. My mother and I ran out in the front yard and the street was rolling and undulating like ocean waves. I’ll never forget it. One of the worst moments of that whole disaster was the collapse of the Cypress Street Viaduct which sent an upper deck of the freeway collapsing onto the lower. The incident killed 42 people and many were trapped for a long time until the rescuers could free them. For a long time, I broke out into a cold sweat whenever I had to stop under an overpass while driving. Writing a story about a mega earthquake has been tossing around in my mind since ’89, you might say.

2) What's your heroine's favorite sports team and why?

Sage is a big Dodgers fan since she grew up in Southern, California. This is ironic, of course, as the Mentinks are Giants fans all the way (even when they have a difficult season.)

3) What was your favorite scene to write in SHOCK WAVE and why?

I’m partial to the scene that takes place deep under the ruined opera house. It’s partially flooded, filled with relics from the performances that have taken place there since the 1920’s. Did you hear a moan? Feel a chilling breeze on the back of your neck? See a skeletal hand rising from the rubble? No, I’m sure it was your imagination. Thanks very much for having me, Camy! :)

Camy: Thanks for being here, Dana!

Dana's also giving away a copy of her latest release!

Shock Wave
by Dana Mentink

TRAPPED…WITH A KILLER? When an earthquake rips through San Francisco, the last person journalist Sage Harrington expects to run into is ex-soldier Trey Black. After what they survived in Afghanistan, she doesn't know if she can face him again. But now they're trapped in the bowels of a ramshackle opera house on a mission to find Sage's missing cousin. And they may not be the only ones. Someone is desperate to keep them from discovering the truth. With time running out and devastation and danger all around, Sage and Trey must put their trust in each other to make it out alive. Stormswept: Finding true love in the midst of nature's fury
To enter:

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Christian romantic suspense giveaway @camytang Dana Mentink’s Love Inspired Suspense SHOCK WAVE! http://is.gd/Sej7Ef
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