Camy Tang's Blog, page 105

Winner and excerpt - Riptide by Elizabeth Goddard

The winner of
Riptide
by
Elizabeth Goddard
Is
Amanda 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 in your peach iced tea that you didn’t win. Cheer up! Order the book!

Back cover:

Treasure Hunt

Two surprises await high-stakes repo man Jake Jacobson on his latest job. First, old flame Kelsey Chambers. Second, gunfire! Seizing the luxury yacht should have been easy, but he hadn't planned on Kelsey's appearance. Or that smugglers would hijack the vessel to find an antique map hidden on board. The map is Jake and Kelsey's only leverage…but it carries a price. Without it, they're as good as dead. With it, they're the target of a relentless hunt. Their failed relationship has Kelsey afraid to rely on Jake again. Can she count on him with their lives on the line?

Excerpt of chapter one:

What would it feel like to send high-voltage electrical currents through an intruder?

I hope I don't have to find out.

Kelsey Chambers wrapped her fingers around the elec-troshock device Captain Neely had left with her. Someone had boarded her boss's boat and started the engine. She'd spent enough time on The Buccaneer while working on her travel writing assignment to feel the subtle shift, recognize the rhythmic hum of the motor. It wouldn't be Captain Neely and his wife since they were on the island to celebrate their anniversary.

Sitting in the galley of the small but luxurious yacht, Kelsey left her laptop and the images she'd taken of the San Juan Islands and bounded up the steps.

Gripping the weapon, she stepped above deck into a dreary Pacific Northwest day. Angry voices shouted from the end of the secluded pier. Men ran toward The Buccaneer.

A bullet ricocheted too close for comfort.

"Get down!" a man yelled from behind.

Before she had a chance to face him, he shoved Kelsey to the ground at the same moment she fired the weapon, sending the charged projectiles into the air to connect with nothing. She cried out as her torso slammed against the deck, her knees taking the brunt of it. Where had he come from?

"Good thing you can't aim, lady, I'm trying to protect you!"

Kelsey made to push up.

"Stay down," he hissed, and held her in place.

Another bullet flew by. Covering her head with her arms, she decided to take his advice. "What's going on?" she asked.

Ignoring her question, he held her down as if hoping the danger might pass if they waited long enough. Kelsey wasn't so sure. Peeking through the protection of her arms, she caught a glimpse of his Dodgers' baseball cap, sunglasses and then… Recognition squeezed her, crushing her breathless.

No… It couldn't be.

"Jake?" Confusion hit her like a squall. Jake Jacobson was the man she'd fallen hard for before they had ended their relationship a year ago. "What are you doing on The Buccaneer??"

From his awkward position next to her, Jake stared back in stunned silence, but then shouts from the pier grew louder and his expression turned dark.

"We have to hurry. Can you make it to the cockpit?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Had she really just said that? This hardly seemed like the time to let their past stand in the way.

Hurt flickered across his gaze before it turned cold. "You will if you want to live."

Under the circumstances what choice did she have? Face the men shooting at them—might as well have been a firing squad—or leave with Jake. For a half second, she almost weighed the choices.

He nudged her toward the bow. On trembling knees she crawled forward, up the three steps and hunkered behind a captain's chair in the cockpit. All the while, more gunfire rang in her ears.

Who were these men, and why were they shooting at Jake? At her by default?

His back to her, he took the helm, steering The Buccaneer away from the dock. How had he managed the mooring single-handedly? He needed a code to activate the keyless ignition. Where did he get that? Too many questions bombarded her as everything happened within a fifteen-second span of time. Her mind finally wrapped around the fact that Jake was leaving the dock and taking her with him.

She was being swept right along with the boat.

Lord, how do I get out of this?

Still, to flee the boat while several men shot at them wasn't an option. They had to get away from the gunfire, and she wouldn't stand in Jake's way as he ferried them to safety.

Or was she making a huge assumption here thinking the men at the pier were the threat to her safety rather than Jake?

Escape now. Ask questions later.

A window in the cockpit shattered. A scream tore from Kelsey's throat, as if her voice had a life of its own, and she hunkered even lower, wrapping her arms tightly around her head.

The Buccaneer accelerated, transporting Jake and Kelsey away from the dock and the marina.

"We're out of range now," Jake said. "You can get up."

Slowly unfolding from her position, she stood to face him. "What…what are you doing here? What's this all about?" she demanded. The more she thought about it, though, it seemed apparent Jake was on the run and had stolen The Buccaneer as his means of escape, Kelsey his accidental passenger.

Or was she? He'd seemed surprised to see her on deck, but he could have been faking. Was abducting her part of his plan all along?

He pulled his sunglasses off and glanced her way. Wow. She'd forgotten how he could overwhelm her with those blue eyes. Right now they were the same brooding color of a stormy Pacific Ocean. But he looked different somehow.

"Kelsey?" Jake squeezed his eyes shut and opened them like he'd gotten something in them. "I thought I was seeing things before."

Right. Always the kidder.

That's all he could say after a year? He could put on a good act, or he no longer cared about her. Either way, he had some explaining to do.

Another boater laid on his horn in warning, and Jake returned his attention to maneuvering The Buccaneer completely out to sea.

Kelsey eyed the marina growing distant behind them, confused about what had just happened. "I asked you a question. What are you doing?"

"I'm taking this boat, what does it look like?"

"But why? You want to tell me why someone was shooting at you? At us? Why you're stealing this boat?" His explanation had better be good.

Jake cut her a quick glance then focused on the open waters of the Salish Sea between Washington and Canada. Storm clouds brewed in the distance and the wind picked up, the boat shifting as the water swelled with whitecapped waves.

She'd spent the last good-weathered weekend in the San Juan Islands, finishing out this assignment, and up until ten minutes ago, it looked like she had timed things just right. But how could she have planned for this? She arched a brow, waiting for Jake's response.

"Yeah, about that. I'm sorry," he offered. "I'm not stealing the boat. Just returning it to its rightful owner. I'd planned to make sure no one else was on board when out of nowhere those men started shooting, and then you showed up. I didn't wait around to ask them why, and I couldn't exactly shove you off board into a gunfight, could I? So you're along for the ride. At least for the moment."

He tossed her a half grin, but she could tell he wasn't any happier with the situation than she was.

More likely, though, his reaction had everything to do with being shot at and nothing at all to do with her. A guy like him? He must have moved on already.

An old, familiar ache traced across her heart. She shook off the unwanted melancholy and focused her attention back on the present.

Jake must be in some kind of trouble. That scared her, but she'd picked up the pieces of her heart long ago and couldn't afford to get involved now. Could she? No. Definitely not. In fact, if he was getting shot at, that meant she'd made the right decision when she'd ended their relationship.

"What's going on here, Jake? Really. And I want a straight answer."

He drew in a breath. "Three months ago I boarded this same cruiser yacht in order to reclaim it for the bank. It carries a hefty price tag so it's worth my time."

"Doesn't the boat belong to Hidden Passage Travel Magazine? "

"No. It used to belong to the magazine's owner, Davis Burroughs, but he defaulted on his loan."

Kelsey found it hard to believe that her new boss's boat was being repossessed. Was Davis in some sort of financial trouble? The magazine was thriving, wasn't it? And the last she knew of Jake, he still worked as a commercial pilot for Journey Airlines. Now he was some kind of repo man? None of this made any sense. "So, why didn't you take it then?"

"I tried to play nice, that's why, and explained why I was taking the boat. I faced off with an older couple and a few of their friends and ended up thrown into the warm water off the coast of Baja. Now that I finally located her again, I wasn't about to risk getting tossed this time and planned to take her when she was empty." Jake shut off the engine and allowed the boat to drift. "That part of my plan didn't work so well, considering you were on board."

"You might have looked first, ya know?"

"I already told you, I didn't get the chance." After scrambling around in a few compartments, he found binoculars, then peered through them, searching the water, the swells growing with the approaching storm.

Kelsey hoped they were heading back to land soon.

A hint of nausea swam in her stomach. She hadn't faced much of that on this assignment because she'd only traveled within the Inside Passage—the waterway that weaved in and out of islands, protecting travelers from the harsh waters of the open Pacific all the way to Alaska.

"Are you looking for those men who were shooting? You still haven't explained about that." Kelsey wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but she had to ask.

"I can't explain what I don't know. I've never seen those men before today. I can only guess that Burroughs must have hired them to keep anyone from trying to repossess the boat."

He lowered the binoculars and looked at her. Really looked at her this time. He acted like he was drinking her in after he hadn't seen her in months. That was the reaction she'd expected and maybe even wanted, but then again, maybe his first reaction was better, considering they were no longer a couple. His gaze drifted over her face, lingered on her lips a few seconds too long and then locked with her eyes.

Her pulse went haywire.

No. Definitely Not. You are not getting involved with him again. Forget that there hadn't been a day since they'd parted ways that she hadn't thought about him. And why, now that she thought she'd found a way to move on, he had suddenly showed up.

A familiar tangle of hot emotion twisted in her throat.

She needed to get off this boat and away from him and whatever he was involved in. And what if Jake wasn't telling her the truth? What if he really was stealing the boat? Would Davis hold her responsible for letting Jake take it?

The electroshock weapon Captain Neely had left with her made more sense in this context.

"Now you can answer a few of my questions," he said.

"What are you doing here anyway? Did you know you're with someone who has gone to a lot of trouble to hide this yacht for months now? Someone who's apparently willing to kill to keep her from being taken away? Being with someone like that puts you in danger." Jake crossed his arms and peered at her from under his cap. "Tell me what you know."

Her in danger? Davis authorizing the use of deadly force? Something wasn't adding up. Jake was trying to turn things around on her. He had some nerve.

Kelsey took a few lengthy breaths, battling her erratic heartbeat. "I don't know anything. It has to be some sort of mistake."

On your part, no doubt.

She left Jake's side to look for the shock device she'd dropped. Davis had sent her on this trip, knowing that someone wanted to reclaim the yacht. That was a big disappointment in itself. Kelsey sighed. Travel writing was supposed to help her fulfill her dream of seeing the world, and she had hoped it would help her forget about Jake, too.

If only she hadn't ignored the niggling thoughts that told her this job was too good to be true. More than anything, she'd wanted it to be true. After all, chances like this only came along once in a lifetime. Yeah. That's exactly what she'd thought when she'd fallen in love with the man of her dreams—the man right in front of her.

And the job of her dreams had led her right back into his path. Not only that, but apparently the moment she'd climbed aboard The Buccaneer, she'd stepped into danger.

Jake's mind reeled at seeing Kelsey again. His heart, too. But he couldn't let her know that. So he tried to act indifferent while he figured things out.

Even though he'd seen the two-person crew leaving the boat earlier in the day, Jake knew to check all the compartments before departing the marina. After flying off with an unwanted passenger the first time he'd participated in a repo, he'd had all the experience he ever wanted with that. But here he was again. And had Jake put her in danger today? Or was she already in danger and he'd come along at just the right time, saving her from harm?

All questions remaining to be answered.

The Buccaneer was beginning to look like more trouble than she was worth. The highend repossession gig was an adrenaline rush, but the edge of danger in this case had gone too far. And for once, the job was doing nothing to help him with his other goal—keeping his mind off things he wanted to forget. Make that people he wanted to forget.

Or better…the one person he had wanted to forget, and the fact she had broken his heart. That's what he got for letting himself fall for her. Love and commitment. It was all overrated. The pain that came with a breakup canceled out anything positive. And even when you tried to forget someone, they managed to turn up in your life again and wash away the progress you had made on trying to forget.

He certainly hadn't planned on seeing Kelsey Chambers again, especially on board The Buccaneer. He had thought he'd left her behind for good. Seeing her now reminded him of all his failures, and yet—looking at her stirred up memories of so much more.

She stood before him now, graceful as the day he'd first seen her on that beach in Hawaii. Ash-blond hair perfectly framed her pretty face. Her striking hazel eyes with their exotic slant pinned him in place. She was the only woman he'd ever fallen for. Yet this time, she wore a guarded expression.

Jake took a weighty step back. A knot grew in his throat. Why did his pulse have to race at the sight of her?

"Who are you to Burroughs anyway?" he asked. "His girlfriend?"

Brilliant. His tone was anything but friendly and that made it sound like he still cared.

"What?" Her arms stiffened at her sides. "Davis is my boss, as if it's any of your business."

"You're right. I'm surprised to see you, that's all. I thought you worked for an airline magazine."

"I took a travel writing job a few weeks ago. I was just about to finish off an assignment exploring the Inside Passage. It was supposed to end in Puget Sound. Obviously, your appearance changes that."

The way she dragged out that last line, and the accompanying negative tone, begged for an apology from him, and without thinking, he gave one. "I'm sorry."

And those two little words echoed what he'd told her the day she'd broken things off with him. How many ways would she make him apologize this time? His gut felt like a storm anchor had lodged there. He wasn't sure he could be in the same room with her without going through the pain all over again.
Order:
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You can also purchase this book from any of the stores found at CBA Storefinder.

Love Inspired chat right now!

From 8-10pm EST. I hope you’ll join us!

http://community.harlequin.com/123flashchat/client/

Interview and giveaway - RIPTIDE by Elizabeth Goddard

Today I’m interviewing Love Inspired Suspense author Elizabeth Goddard!

About Elizabeth:

Elizabeth Goddard is an award-winning author with well over a dozen romance and romantic suspense novels, including the romantic mystery, The Camera Never Lies—winner of the prestigious Carol Award in 2011. After acquiring her computer science degree, she worked at a software firm before eventually retiring to raise her four children and become a professional writer. A member of several writing organizations, she judges numerous contests and mentors new writers. In addition to writing, she home schools her children and serves with her husband as he pastors a church in Louisiana.
http://elizabethgoddard.com

And now, here’s me and Elizabeth!

1) What inspired the storyline of RIPTIDE?

Riptide is the second book in a series about high-stakes repo men. I read an article about a man labeled the Learjet repo man, and he often goes into high-risk situations to retrieve big ticket items from people like drug lords and other unscrupulous individuals. My understanding is he is wanted dead or alive in one third world country where he took the president’s jumbo jet. :) But I thought it would be exciting to write a series about that. In Treacherous Skies, they were after a Learjet belonging to a drug lord. In Riptide, my hero is retrieving a small yacht when trouble ensues.
 
2) If your heroine were a pie, what would she be?

Great question—I’ve never heard this one before! Hmmm. I’d have to say huckleberry pie and that because my hero talks about how his grandmother used to make them and how much he loves them.
 
3) Does your hero have a pet? If he doesn't, what would it be like?

Though my hero’s pet isn’t mentioned in the story he has an African grey parrot. He can travel and leave the bird for a few days at a time if he needs to. And then when he walks into his empty apartment, Charlie says hello and fills his home with all sorts of chatter, considering that Charlie’s vocabulary includes a thousand words.
 
4) What was your favorite/funnest scene in writing RIPTIDE?

Riptide is pretty intense and when I read this question, a scene came to mind, but I wouldn’t say it is a “fun” scene, but an emotionally intense scene, if that’s okay. My hero is hanging from cliff, and holding onto a man to keep him from falling—holding onto a man who moments before tried to kill him. I don’t want to give too much away, but so much of the story comes together through this scene and really clicks. My editor commented on the scene as well, how emotionally powerful it was.

Camy: Thanks so much for being here today, Elizabeth!

Elizabeth is also doing a giveaway for a copy of RIPTIDE!

Riptide
by
Elizabeth Goddard

Treasure Hunt

Two surprises await high-stakes repo man Jake Jacobson on his latest job. First, old flame Kelsey Chambers. Second, gunfire! Seizing the luxury yacht should have been easy, but he hadn't planned on Kelsey's appearance. Or that smugglers would hijack the vessel to find an antique map hidden on board. The map is Jake and Kelsey's only leverage…but it carries a price. Without it, they're as good as dead. With it, they're the target of a relentless hunt. Their failed relationship has Kelsey afraid to rely on Jake again. Can she count on him with their lives on the line?

To enter:

You must join my email newsletter to be eligible for this contest. 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! Elizabeth Goddard’s RIPTIDE http://is.gd/RtE6Pf
(Be sure to include @camytang so I can see your tweet and give you your extra entry.)

Extra Facebook entries: Get one extra entry per day if you share this Facebook post on your own Facebook profile and/or page: https://www.facebook.com/CamyTangAuthor/posts/10151584709142620
(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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Self-Editing tips on eHarlequin and Synopsis writing class in August!

Self-Editing tips at eHarlequin

I forgot to post this earlier, but I'm posting Deep Editing tips over at the eHarlequin forum boards. I'm going over 5 of the points that are in my Self-Editing worksheet and giving some feedback. I'm only online there until the end of Saturday (sorry for the late notice) if you'd like feedback. Since I'm doing 5 of the points in my worksheet, this will give you a chance to see a sample of my worksheet in case you're still on the fence about buying it.

Here's the direct link to the forum: http://community.harlequin.com/showthread.php/1441-Camp-Gonnabe-Self-Editing-with-Camy-Tang

Register for my next Synopsis writing class in August

I'm not doing as many online classes these days, but for those of you interested, now's the time to register for a Synopsis writing class I'm giving through the Oklahoma Christian Fiction Writers group:

Synopsis writing online class ($20 (OKC member) or $25 (non OKC member)) August 5 - 16

For 12 days, I’ll be working with you to write a synopsis for your manuscript during the class. By the end of the class, you will have:

1) a one sentence hook for your manuscript proposal
2) a five sentence pitch, which you can also use in a query letter
3) a comprehensive 2-page single spaced synopsis for use in a proposal or submission
4) a character synopsis to include with your 2-page synopsis or in place of it
5) if your manuscript is completed, a full chapter by chapter synopsis (usually anywhere from 4-10 pages) for if an editor asks for a more complete story synopsis, OR at the very least, the means to write one if your manuscript is not yet completed.

Cost is $20 (OKC member) or $25 (non OKC member). If you're interested, register here:
http://okcchristianfictionwriters.blogspot.com/p/online-classes_19.html (scroll down the page a bit to see my class)

Winner and excerpt - Lifeline by Christy Barritt

The winner of
Lifeline
by
Christy Barritt
Is
Kathy E.
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 in your French onion soup that you didn’t win. Cheer up! Order the book!

Back cover:

"I did it for you."

The chilling words in the text message have Julianne Grace fearing for her life. She's sure that her abusive ex-fiancé has killed two people—and that she's the next target. But will anyone believe that her presumed dead ex is really alive? The only man who can help Julianne is cool, aloof security specialist Bradley Stone. Not only does she need his protection, but he's also the link to finding answers about her ex-fiancé's death. And the closer Bradley and Julianne get to the truth—and to each other—the angrier the madman after Julianne becomes. One wrong move and they could both fall prey to the killer's deadly scheme.

Excerpt of chapter one:

Julianne Grace bristled, pausing mid-step as she journeyed down the lonely road. She froze as her eyes scanned the area in front of her. Woods and swampland surrounded her, but nothing else.

There was the sound again. A stick cracking. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she turned her head. Fear pricked her skin. What had caused the noise?

All she saw was a desolate stretch of highway and looming oak trees enveloped by dark, murky water.

She ran a shaky hand through her mane of hair. She'd heard something. She knew she had. Was someone watching her from the woods?

Could it be Darrell Lewis?

The thought made her blood go cold—cold enough to rival the frigid wind that swept across the deceitfully sunny landscape. She should have worn a coat, but she'd left her apartment too quickly. She hadn't had time to think—just to drive. Now the scar across her collarbone pulled tight in the twenty-degree briskness.

The injury was a daily reminder of how ugly love could turn. A daily reminder of how relationships weren't worth it. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

She took a few more tentative steps. The feeling of unseen eyes caused her pace to quicken until she burst into a jog and then an all-out run. Though she saw nothing and no one, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being chased.

Finally, a gate appeared in the distance. Could it be the entrance to Iron, Incorporated? Was help in sight?

She could make it that far. She'd ask to see Bradley Stone and then tell him the truth about why she'd come. She'd ask the burning questions that consumed her and hopefully get some answers.

She had to get what she'd come for. She had no other options, not if she wanted to live to see tomorrow.

Her legs felt like jelly when she reached the guardhouse. Her quick breaths came out in icy clouds, and she shivered again. What a mess. Everything was a mess.

A fresh-faced man in uniform stared at her. She could tell by the way his eyes wavered from side to side for just a split second that her presence baffled him. Certainly people didn't tread up to the gate every day, not when you considered there were miles of empty road before reaching the compound.

"Can I help you?" The guard was short, blond and had a gun at his waist. His gaze roamed behind her, as if her appearance were some kind of guerrilla-war tactic.

"I need to see Bradley Stone." The words were labored, partially from her jog and partially from fear. "It's important. Very important."

The man blinked, and his face remained devoid of expression. "Bradley Stone? Your name?"

"Julianne Grace." Her breathing still hadn't normalized. Her shivers reached her vocal cords, causing her voice to crack.

"Do you have an appointment?"

She shook her head, the reality that she may not be able to see him sinking in. But she couldn't retreat now. "No, I don't. But I need to talk to him. Please. I've come four hours to get here, all the way from D.C."

His lips pulled into a tight line. "One moment."

He stepped into the small brick booth and picked up a phone. Julianne rubbed her palms on her jeans. Despite the chill, she'd still managed to break a sweat.

She turned, glanced behind her. Nothing. What did she think she would see? Darrell hiding behind a tree? The thought was ridiculous.

But she'd heard a branch break. Had an animal made the sound? Or was it the man bent on tormenting her?

She rubbed her clammy hands against her jeans. She couldn't dislodge the thoughts from her mind. Thoughts of pain and death at the hands of a man who liked to see others suffer. Was there any other reason Darrell had thrown acid on her, hoping to hit her face and disfigure her so that no other man would want her?

The guard approached her, that inscrutable expression still across his face. "I'm sorry, but Mr. Stone can't speak with you now. He told me to give you the number of his secretary so that you could schedule an appointment."

Tears sprung to her eyes. She tried to hold them off, but it did no good. Her gaze met the guard's. The last thing she wanted was to manipulate the situation, but she had to make her desperation clear. "My life depends on it."

"I'm sorry, ma'am." The man handed her a card. A moment of sympathy glimmered in his eyes. "Here's the number for his secretary."

She took the paper from him and crumbled it. She used her sleeve to wipe away her tears as she turned on her heel. What would she do now? Hike back to a gasless car located miles from nothing?

She had to see Bradley Stone. But how?

What were her options? She could scale the fence surrounding the headquarters and make a run for it. Then she remembered the barbed wire atop the iron prongs. Probably not the best idea….

Could she somehow make it past the guard? If she could slip by him and make it to the building in the background maybe Bradley would have no choice but to speak with her.

Right now, she had nothing to lose. Two people were already dead. She'd be next if she didn't get some answers. Either way she looked at it, her life was on the line.

Julianne swallowed so hard that it hurt. She was a peace-loving woman who hated making scenes or adding drama to life. But desperate times called for desperate measures, as the saying went.

She paused and turned toward the guard. "Excuse me, sir. Do you think I could use your phone? Please? I need to call a tow truck. My car ran out of gas and the nearest gas station has to be miles from here."

The guard shifted, his hesitation evident. Her cell phone was tucked into her back pocket, out of sight. She'd never said she didn't have a phone. Still, guilt pressed in on her.

Finally, the young guard nodded and motioned for her to go into the booth. "Just one call."

She nodded, relief washing through her, but quickly replaced as anxiety crowded it out. Did she really think this would work? Regardless, she had to give it a shot.

Lord, protect me, even if I'm being foolish.

She stepped into the booth and picked up the receiver.

Before the guard realized what was happening, she darted through the opposite door and onto the grounds of the Eyes headquarters.

She ran as if her life depended on it.

Because her life did depend on it.



Bradley Stone hung up the phone and leaned back in his desk chair. Julianne Grace. It had been a long time since he'd heard that name. Honestly, he thought he'd never hear it again. Why should he? His military career had ended, Darrell Lewis had died…and his life had begun the proverbial next chapter.

He stood and plucked open two slats from the window blinds. From his office, he could see the front gate.

Why had he sent the woman away? He should feel obligated to speak with her. After all, her fiance had died on his watch. Most people in his position would bend over backward in this situation.

But Darrell Lewis had had an edge to him, and his death still haunted him to this day. Bradley had tried desperately to put that part of his life behind him. Probably because it included mourning the death of his own fiancée who'd been murdered not even a year after Darrell died.

He knew how it felt to lose someone you loved. He knew what it was like for someone to be snatched away from life before their time.

He didn't want to see Julianne and be reminded again.

He narrowed his eyes as she took a step away from the guard station. Where was her car? Had the woman walked here? Why had she wanted to see him of all people?

He watched as she turned and approached the guardhouse again. She talked to the guard a moment and he pointed toward the gate. Then Julianne walked into the station. What was she doing?

The next instant, she darted across the lawn toward the main building. Bradley straightened as he watched her run as if the ground itself was on fire. The woman was going to get herself killed.

He sprinted from his office. After taking the stairs by two, he rounded the corner and opened the door at the front entrance. He stepped outside just in time to see Juli-anne fall to the ground. Had she been shot? Terror raced through him.

Eric, the guard, stood with his gun drawn by the gate. Bradley cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hold your fire!"

Had the woman gone mad? He rushed toward her and knelt on the lawn at her side. She pushed herself up on her elbows, blood trickling from her forehead. She must have hit it on the edge of the pavement.

Her panic-stricken eyes met his. "I need your help."

"You're going to need a lawyer's help also, pulling a stunt like that." He gently gripped her arms as he helped her back to her feet.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered. She brushed a hair behind her ear, as if trying to compose herself. It didn't work. The woman was a wild mess, her limbs like jelly. Her legs gave out, and she started sinking to the ground again when he caught her. Tantalizing eyes met his. "Do you remember me?"

He straightened. "Of course I do. Darrell Lewis's fiancée. What were you thinking charging through the front gate like that?"

Her breath came in deep gasps and her hands trembled. Her long brown hair, streaked with gold, fell into her perfectly proportioned face. But her stunning beauty took a backseat to the fear and desperation that seemed to emanate from her. "Please. I only need a few minutes."

Would she accuse him of her fiance's death? Maybe. Could he deny he was at fault? No. The responsibility fell on his shoulders alone.

Would she make further inquiries about his death? Possibly. She'd never asked many questions in the first place except, "Are you sure he's dead?"

An odd question, really. Most want to know how their loved one died, or if they'd experienced any pain or what their last moments had been like.

But she'd asked, "Are you sure?"

He shook the thoughts from his head and glanced at Julianne again. Something about the woman and her wide, luminous eyes tugged at his heart—and he felt himself softening toward her.

He glanced at his watch. His meeting started in five minutes.

Five minutes.

He could give the woman that much.

Most likely, he'd regret it if he didn't. His mind would be flooded with questions about why she had come. The easiest solution to that was to simply talk to her, find out what she wanted, and send her on her way.

"Let's get you out of the cold." He led her inside the large, lodgelike building. Flames blazed from the massive fireplace that stretched upward two stories, giving the lobby a warm, cozy feel. His fingers grazed her hands and he felt the frigidness of her skin. She trembled uncontrollably. Where was her coat?

He kept a hand on her elbow until she reached a leather chair situated by the roaring fireplace. "Why don't you have a seat? Can I get you some coffee? Anything?"

She lowered herself into the seat, her hands quivering against her legs. "Yes, please. If you don't mind. I—I wasn't prepared to be here. This wasn't exactly on my schedule for today."

Just what had brought her here, then? What had caused her to risk her life to speak with him? "Sit tight. Warm up. I'll be right back with that coffee and some first aid for that cut."

He took a step away when Julianne's soft voice cut through the air.

"Actually, I just need to ask you one question. It can't wait."

Bradley pivoted and saw her sitting on the edge of her seat, looking as if she might break at any moment. "One question? Okay, shoot."

She swallowed, stark fear straining her features. "Are you sure Darrell Lewis died during that training exercise?"

Julianne watched Bradley's expression—stone cold, as usual. She'd always thought the name was appropriate for someone who kept such a tight reign on his emotions. He was like an exquisitely carved statue from Roman times. All hard lines and stiff features and breathtaking good looks.

No hint of softness to him.

Bradley Stone was the only person she could think of who might have some answers. He was Darrell's former commanding officer and SEAL platoon OIC—officer-in-charge. He was the one who'd come to her with the news of Darrell's death.

She remembered when he'd shown up at her doorstep, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he held his hat in hand. On either side of him were a chaplain and the CACO—the Casualty Assistance Calls Officer. As soon as she'd seen Bradley, she'd known what was coming. She'd known also that he didn't have to be there, that he could have easily sent the other two men to notify her of what had happened.

She'd met the man twice before that day. He was the strong, silent type with striking blue eyes that showed a perceptive intelligence. Julianne would bet that he didn't miss much. He had a no-nonsense haircut, a tall, broad build that tapered to narrow hips, and a chiseled, smooth face.

His voice had been kind when he'd told her the news about Darrell. As she'd listened, shock had washed over her, shock followed by relief. Tears had rushed to her eyes, and she'd hoped they'd looked like tears of sorrow. But the moisture along her eyelids was because she realized she didn't have to live in fear anymore.

Yet here she was, two years later, living in absolute fear again.

Snapping back to the present, she tried unsuccessfully to read Bradley's expression. All she could see were his eyes, ever perceptive, soaking her in. Finally, after a moment of contemplation, he stepped forward and lowered himself into the chair across from her, the fireplace softening his features.

"Am I sure that your fiance is dead?" he repeated, his voice even. The man thought she was losing her mind. That was all there was to it. She might think the same thing if she didn't know what she did, if she hadn't seen the things she'd seen.

She nodded, her throat scratchy, and the tremors that had begun in her hands migrating until her entire body shook. "That's right."

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and sucked in a deep breath. He was trying to be diplomatic, trying to measure his response. All professional, she thought with a silent, bitter laugh. Concealing how he really felt in an effort to placate her.

Another round of tears washed through her eyes. She had to get a grip. She was usually so careful to control her emotions, to not appear weak in front of others. They'd only take advantage of you if you did.

But how could she get a grip right now? She couldn't, not until she had some answers. Ignoring her achy head and growling stomach, she directed a steady gaze toward Bradley to let him know she was serious.

His jaw flexed, and he shifted his weight before answering. "I saw your fiance during explosives training. I saw him go up in flames. I saw his body, half of his bones broken and skin burned to a crisp."

That was the story she'd heard also. But was there room for error there? Was there any possibility of a cover-up? "There was unaccounted-for time. From the moment you realized there was an emergency until the moment you reached him, the bodies could have been switched."
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This week, the featured book is: In This Town by Beth Andrews (Harlequin SuperRomance)

Guest blog and giveaway - Lifeline by Christy Barritt

Today I have Love Inspired Suspense author Christy Barritt guest blogging!

About Christy:

Christy Barritt has two new romantic suspense novels coming out in 2011: Keeping Guard and The Last Target. She's also the author of the Squeaky Clean Mystery series, which follows the adventures of crime-scene cleaner Gabby St. Claire. When Christy's not working on her books, she writes articles for various publications and leads worship at her church. She lives in Virginia with her husband, two young sons and a houseplant named Martha. When Christy has some free time, she enjoys… Who's she kidding? She never has free time! And she wouldn't have it any other way. Visit her website at www.christybarritt.com.

And now, here’s Christy!

Hello, Everyone!

Thanks for inviting me to share a little bit about Lifeline, my July release from Love Inspired Suspense.

I love the various aspects of writing novels. One thing I’ve started to do in the past couple of years is, before I start writing a new book, I find actors who look like my characters. I’m a visual person, so this aspect of brainstorming is a lot of fun for me. I put a lot of thought into my characters and their personalities, and I try to find actors who reflect my story people.

When I finally decide who would best play the role of my characters, I print pictures of the actors and post them on my bulletin board. I keep the photos there until the book is finished with edits. This helps to keep the characters fresh in my mind.

Bradley Stone is the hero in Lifeline. He’s strong, quiet, slightly intimidating, and tough. He works for a para-military organization called Eyes, which helps to train soldiers and law enforcement personnel. I cast Mark Valley as Bradley Stone. He actually fit the image of this character perfectly.


The heroine in my book is Julianne Grace. Julianne is breathtakingly beautiful, as well as sweet and caring. She’s come from an abusive relationship and fears her ex-boyfriend, who supposedly died in a Navy SEALs training accident, is actually alive and trying to kill her. I cast Minka Kelly. Minka fit this role really well also.

Thanks for letting me share, and I hope you’ll check out Lifeline!

Camy: Thanks for guest blogging today, Christy!

Christy’s giving away a copy of her Love Inspired Suspense, Lifeline.

Lifeline
by
Christy Barritt

"I did it for you."

The chilling words in the text message have Julianne Grace fearing for her life. She's sure that her abusive ex-fiancé has killed two people—and that she's the next target. But will anyone believe that her presumed dead ex is really alive? The only man who can help Julianne is cool, aloof security specialist Bradley Stone. Not only does she need his protection, but he's also the link to finding answers about her ex-fiancé's death. And the closer Bradley and Julianne get to the truth—and to each other—the angrier the madman after Julianne becomes. One wrong move and they could both fall prey to the killer's deadly scheme.

To enter:

You must join my email newsletter to be eligible for this contest. Fill out the form below. Be sure to read the rules.

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@camytang is giving away Christian romantic suspense Christy Barritt’s Love Inspired Suspense LIFELINE! http://is.gd/XEHjnt
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Excerpt - Royal Heist by Rachelle McCalla

Royal Heist
by
Rachelle McCalla

A Royal Wedding—and a Shocking Crime

After rescuing jewelry designer Ruby Tate from an attacker, Lydian royal guard Galen Harris suspects the crime wasn't a random incident. Jewelry thieves have set their sights on Lydia's royal family, and they won't let anyone stand in their way—including Ruby, who's in town to help the princess with her wedding jewels. The closer Ruby and Galen get to uncovering the mystery, the harder it is to deny their feelings. But with a deadly gang of criminals after them, will they live to see their own happily ever after?

Excerpt of chapter one:

Ruby Tate looked over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps behind her.

A hulking figure, more shadow than man, slipped behind the nearest building.

Ruby blinked. Was someone there, or were her eyes playing tricks on her in the dimness of dusk? Unsure of how to react, Ruby walked faster. At the end of the block she turned the corner. The road bent uphill toward the Lydian royal palace. She would soon put the empty street behind her.

Footfalls echoed behind her again—moving faster now.

Ruby increased her pace to a trot. She had two blocks left to reach the door to her apartment building, built into the rear wall of the palace grounds.

The looming sounds behind her picked up their pace, as well. Was it her imagination, or was he gaining on her?

Ruby ran. She gripped her purse with one hand to keep it from thumping against her hip as she accelerated to a sprint. She could still hear the resounding proof—louder and faster—that she was not alone.

Risking another backward glance, Ruby saw nothing.

No one.

She slowed, looking back again, this time scanning the street for the source of the noise she was nearly certain she still heard.

Where had the man gone? Ruby panted, catching her breath, thinking quickly. Was someone actually chasing her? In all the times she'd visited the Mediterranean kingdom of Lydia with Princess Stasi years before, while the two of them were roommates studying gemology in the United States, Ruby had never heard of any violent crimes in the Christian monarchy. She and Stasi had been out late and walked the city streets, without incident, far more times than she could count.

The memories stilled her fear. In those days, Princess Stasi had a bodyguard named Galen, a youngish guard with a lopsided smile, who'd acted as much as an accomplice as a guard, helping them sneak back inside the palace when Stasi had missed her curfew, keeping Stasi's identity under wraps so they could mingle anonymously with the locals.

But everything had changed in the last year. In June, a fiery ambush against the royal family had shattered the peace of the tiny kingdom. And Ruby hadn't spoken to Galen since their painful parting the previous summer.

A noise startled her.

Were those footsteps again?

Ruby wasn't about to stick around to find out. She sprinted toward the safety of the palace, her ballet flats slamming against the cobblestones as she glanced between buildings, looking for the source of the sounds. Between her rushed breathing and the distant traffic noise from a busy thoroughfare several blocks away, Ruby couldn't be sure what she heard.

But it sounded like the footsteps were drawing nearer again.

With one long block to go, Ruby passed the break of a side street, glancing down the branching road in time to see a large man tearing toward her from the shadows. Something covered his face—a sheer mesh, like nylon stockings, distorting his features into those of a hideous monster.

The man had her cut off. If she ran straight for her apartment door, she'd run right into his path. He'd be on her in seconds.

Ruby nearly stumbled as she changed direction, taking the other branch of the cross street at a dead sprint, the heavy footsteps closing in.

She cut down an alley. She'd taken this path with Stasi years before. There was a pedestrian gate just ahead that led through the palace wall, with a gatehouse manned by royal guards.

Royal guards meant safety—if she could stay ahead of her pursuer long enough to reach them.

Thick boots hammered the cobblestones directly behind her. He was close, far too close. She could hear each rasping breath as the man panted in her wake. The palace wall was near but still too far away.

Something tugged at her hair. Fingers swiped her arm, grasping at her shirt.

She was never going to make it. The pedestrian gate lay a full twenty yards ahead, already within view, but rough hands closed over her arms, breaking her flight and tugging her backward.

Ruby let out a panicked scream a split second before a hand slipped over her mouth.

"What was that?" Galen Harris asked.

"Eh?" Elias, whose guard shift had ended half an hour before, lingered in the pedestrian gate guardhouse, chatting as he so often did.

"It sounded like a scream."

Ever since Princess Anastasia had called ten minutes before, asking him to watch for her assistant Ruby's return, Galen had kept his attention on the security screen, which he'd switched to show the area outside Ruby's apartment door. There'd been no sign of the princess's friend.

Not out back, anyway. The scream had come from down the block, beyond the scope of the security camera. Galen peered out the rear window and caught sight of two figures struggling in the distant darkness.

"Watch the guardhouse!" Galen punched the button that unlocked the door. He burst out as the woman screamed again, the sound muffled. The evening's dying light glinted off her red hair.

Ruby.

Galen bounded through the door. He'd heard she was in town, and wondered if Ruby would let him see her again after the way her visit had ended the previous summer. Certain his company wasn't welcome, he'd purposely avoided her.

But he couldn't stay away now.

"Halt!" he shouted. "Royal guard!"

The attacker glanced up, his features marred by nylon netting. He moved his hand from Ruby's mouth only to grab her by the arms.

Galen tore toward them. The masked man tugged at Ruby's purse strap, shoving against her shoulder with his other hand as he wrenched at the bag.

With a leap, Galen threw himself at the hefty brute, slamming his arm down on the hand that gripped Ruby's purse strap.

The man's grasp broke as he stumbled backward, still standing, even with Galen half on top of him.

"Run to the gate!" Galen shouted to Ruby as he attempted to restrain her attacker. The thug spun on his heels to run, but Galen didn't want the mugger running free on the streets of Sardis, Lydia's capital city. He grabbed the man by the arm, pulling him back.

Behind them, he heard the faint buzz that meant Elias had deactivated the electronic lock on the door so that Ruby could get inside. Relieved that she was safe, Galen turned all his attention to the angry man in front of him.

Tugging hard on his arm, Galen tried to bring him down, but his massive opponent spun his arm toward Galen's neck.

Galen saw the blow coming a split-second before it hit him and ducked to take the blow with his hard forehead instead of his neck.

The man grunted as his fingers crunched against Galen's skull.

Taking advantage of the man's momentary weakness, Galen threw his weight against him, heaving downward on his arm. But in spite of his strength and skill as a fighter, Galen was outweighed by Ruby's attacker who resisted his downward pull.

Changing tactics, Galen jabbed one heavy boot toward the middle of the man's legs, hoping to knock his knees out from under him. The thug pulled away, clear of Galen's kicks.

Galen lunged onto the man's back, determined to bring him down. The attacker sagged, but snapped one arm over his shoulder toward Galen's face. This time his opponent angled his fist deeper and caught Galen full on the nose, snapping his head backward and sending tears to his eyes, momentarily stunning him.

Before Galen could pull him in again, the assailant dived toward the alleyway and fled into the night.

A gush of blood flooded from Galen's throbbing nostrils. He squinted after the man, but his vision was blurred with tears and he could hardly see where the attacker had gone.

"Galen?" A female gasped behind him.

"Get inside." He gestured to Ruby, who'd stepped back outside and now hovered anxiously near the gate.

She ducked back into the guard booth. As Galen staggered back to the brightly lit doorway, she reappeared with a towel in her hands. "Here." She reached toward his bleeding nose.

"I've got it." Galen accepted the towel but insisted on holding it himself, gingerly prodding the bridge of his nose; at least the thug hadn't broken it.

"Sit down." Ruby led him toward the chair where he'd been sitting until he'd heard her scream.

"Who was that guy?" Galen tried to look Ruby in the eye, but the fat towel clamped over his nose blocked most of his vision.

"I don't know. Did you recognize him?"

"No. Where'd he come from?"

"The streets. He followed me, I think from as far as Stasi's studio."

"Followed you?" The words hit him harder than the blow to his nose. It was one thing to have Ruby attacked by a vicious purse-snatcher. It was far worse to think the man had tailed her, targeting her specifically. "How do you know he followed you?"

"I heard footsteps." Ruby's voice broke.

Galen angled his head and adjusted the towel so that he could see her face. He might not stanch the flow of blood as quickly with his head down instead of up, but he needed to see her. He needed to know whether she was okay.

Jade-green eyes blinked at him with fear in their depths.

Galen felt his heart twist. Part of him had been eager to see Ruby ever since he'd heard she'd stepped in to fill the role of Anastasia's assistant, as the talented princess designed all the jewelry for the upcoming royal weddings. An equal part of him had been wary of a potentially awkward reunion. But awkwardness had become the least of his concerns.

"Are you okay?" He spotted the red marks along her neck where the strap of her bag had cut against her. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, I think." She touched her neck. "Just sore."

Elias, who'd been hovering silently, his attention divided between the two of them and the security screens, reached for the small fridge where the gateway guards kept their lunches and beverages. "Put something cold on that," the older guard suggested, placing a chilled soda in her hands.

Ruby held the bottle like an ice pack against her neck. "Thank you. That helps."

Relieved that she wasn't seriously injured, Galen went back to wondering why the young American had been followed. "He wanted your purse?"

"Did he?" Ruby gingerly touched the red mark left behind when her attacker had tugged on her purse. "I didn't think I made an obvious target, but I guess by walking home alone…" Her words broke off again, and she took a couple slow breaths, meeting his eyes over the towel he held clenched to his nose.

"You weren't an obvious target," Galen reassured her, trying not to think about the way her shining eyes made his heart leap or how much he'd missed seeing her since the last time she'd visited Lydia. Ruby was heir to an American jewelry chain. He was a humble sentinel with the Lydian royal guard. Their lives were worlds apart. She'd pushed him away when he'd tried to overlook their differences before. He ignored the way he felt sitting close to her, and focused on the attack. "If that man wanted to snatch a random bag, he could have gone downtown. Plenty of women don't guard their purses very well when they go out on the town."

Ruby's freckles scrunched slightly as she wrinkled her nose, visibly fighting back her emotions in order to speak. "But why would he want my bag?" She broke his gaze and turned her head away.

"Are you carrying many valuables?"

"Hardly. Not much cash, a debit card, but my bank account is nearly empty already." She opened her purse and took a quick inventory, rifling through papers and receipts. "Lip balm, keys, cheap sunglasses—which are now broken." Ruby's voice faltered as she pulled out the ruined eyewear. The shades had snapped along one rim. A lens fell out as she lifted them.

Galen reached for the fallen lens, then quickly pulled his hand back as Ruby bent to pick it up, as well.

Best to give the pretty redhead her space. That's what she'd asked him for the year before, and he wasn't about to push the issue. He had things to do—like reporting the incident to royal guard headquarters, and making sure Ruby really was all right.

And figuring out who her attacker was, and what he was after. And then, making sure the man never hurt Ruby again.



Ruby nearly dropped the broken sunglasses before she got them back into her purse. Maybe she could fix them.

Just like all the other things in her life that needed fixing right now. She'd come to Lydia at Princess Anastasia's invitation. Her best friend from gemology school had set the ambitious goal of designing unique jewelry for the many upcoming Lydian royal weddings, starting with the marriage of Princess Isabelle and Levi Grenaldo in just over a week.

Those pieces were ready to go, but Stasi and Ruby still worked long hours trying to meet the deadlines that lay ahead, which was why Ruby hadn't left the studio until twilight. Ruby was thrilled to help the princess. More than that, she felt honored that Stasi had given her family's line of jewelry stores, Tate Jewelry, exclusive reproduction rights to all the designs.

Given the level of public interest in the royal weddings, the Tate Jewelry reproductions should sell well. Maybe even well enough to save the family business. But Ruby had a lot of work ahead of her if that was going to happen. She didn't need the interference of an attacker to set her even further behind. If Galen hadn't come to her aid, she might be as broken as the sunglasses in her purse.

Horrified that Galen had been hurt while helping her, Ruby turned away from the sight of the injured guard. It was hard enough for her to be near him at all. Seeing him hurt, remembering how much she cared for him…it was too much to think about, especially in the wake of what happened.

Ruby stared through the street-side window at the crime site, a mere dozen yards away, where she'd struggled against the masked man. Galen's blood had splashed on the cobblestones, marking the spot. Her heart pinched at the sight.

Galen Harris.

She'd purposely avoided him since she'd been back in Lydia because of her embarrassing last encounter with him the previous summer and her feelings toward him that had made their final parting so awkward. She'd made up her mind that she needed to keep her distance from him, but telling him so had proven catastrophic.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy his company. It was precisely the opposite. The man could distract her from anything, even her goal of saving her parents' business, which she must do to earn back their trust after her accidental betrayal years before.

If she revived her friendship with Galen, she didn't know if she could leave Lydia again. The tiny Christian kingdom was her favorite place in the world, not just because of the friendly people and perfect climate, but because of the fascinating history of the place. The kingdom of Lydia could trace its history all the way back to the days of the Bible. The kingdom was named after the woman whose house church had grown into a small, independent nation. Princess Stasi and the rest of the Lydian royal family could trace their lineage all the way back to Lydia, the dealer in purple cloth who appeared in Acts 16: 14 & 40.

Ruby wasn't sure which was more difficult—leaving Lydia or leaving Galen. One glance at the guard stirred her dormant feelings back to life. His ready smile was irresistible. His dark hair, now cropped to military shortness, curled as it grew out, ready to burst forth like his fun-loving nature the moment it escaped the rigid parameters around him. But given the way she'd left things with him the year before, she doubted he'd want to be friends anymore, anyway.
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Excerpt - Final Resort by Dana Mentink

Final Resort
By Dana Mentink

Ava Stanton has no need for love or tales of hidden treasure—until her uncle is kidnapped at her family's ski resort. Now she needs help from professional treasure hunter Luca Gage…the man she'd tried to forget. Signs point to a fortune hidden in the mountain, and Ava and Luca need to find her uncle before his assailant finds them. As their search for treasure draws them closer together, Ava must decide how long she'll run from love. She doesn't have much time, because something is buried under Whisper Mountain—and someone is willing to do anything to get to it.

Excerpt of chapter one:

Ava Stanton jumped when a bevy of quail scattered as she got out of the car, snow whisking in tiny puffs under their feet. One shot her a beady-eyed look as if to ask why in the world a woman would be out on the remote mountain road by herself, especially as another wave of winter storms rolled in across the Sierras. Ava wondered the same thing, pulling her knit cap farther down over her short blond hair. The family of quail left a profound silence behind as they moved away. In the distance, she caught the sound of skiers on the slopes of the neighboring Gold Summit Lodge which butted up against Whisper Mountain Resort property.

Won't be our property much longer.

The thought sent a wave of despair through her. She shook it off. Too much coffee. Too little sleep. She was fatigued mentally and physically from the extra skiing classes she'd been teaching in Westbow, a town about twenty miles away where she rented a room. A useless effort. Hadn't made a dent in the debt that buried Whisper Mountain.

The sky was cloudy and ominous. Shadows shifted on the lumps of snow that had collected on the steep slope overlooking an iced-over Melody Lake at the periphery of the Whisper Mountain Resort property.

She did not know the real name of the lake, only the nickname given to the small body of water by her uncle the day they'd scattered her mother's ashes there, accompanied by the mournful singing of the birds. Melody Lake. How often she'd visited, watching the seasons morph from summer to the white cocoon of winter, the water gradually sealing over like her own grief. Sealed over, but still just as present.

The delicate cover of ice sparkled at her.

Thin ice.

How appropriate. Whatever her uncle Paul was involved in this time, he was no doubt teetering on the edge of another disaster. There was hardly much left to lose. Whisper Mountain was officially defunct, closed at the cusp of the ski season because there was no longer money enough to maintain the slopes and lodge. They'd kept the toboggan run open the past several years, but now there was not even money to keep that going. Thanks in part to Uncle Paul's penchant for disastrous get-rich-quick schemes, the land would have to be sold without further delay. Looking along the graceful peaks adorned with white-crusted fir trees, her heart squeezed painfully. It was still Stanton-owned, at least for a few more months.

Again she looked toward the distant slopes of Gold Summit, partially owned by the wealthy Gage family. The rumor mill held that Luca, one of the sons, and his sister were visiting. Luca's green eyes and infectious grin twirled in her memory. She'd read that he'd started a treasure hunting business. The perfect job for a guy perpetually in motion. When times were better, her father had frequently hosted marshmallow roasts attended by Wyatt Gage and his then-teen children. Happy days. Long gone.

She got back into the car to check her phone. She reread Paul's old text, replete with errors.

Found my purl. Meet me at yer mothers lake. Secret.

What was it this time? Uncle Paul referred to his "pearl" for as long as she'd known him, a term applied to every treasure in the long list he'd pursued over the years. A new stock market tip? An undiscovered platinum mine that would save their bankrupt Whisper Mountain Resort? His latest woman? During his last phone call, he refused to talk other than to say he'd contact her soon. Not like the jovial Uncle Paul, the trickster, the showman.

She caught the sound of a set of boots crunching down the road. Uncle Paul appeared, wild black hair threaded with silver curling from under his red knit cap. He saw her and waved, looking around carefully before he marched down the slope to meet her.

He clasped her in a bear hug, cold cheek pressed to hers. "Avy, honey. You get more gorgeous every time I see you." He pulled away to look into her face. "It's those blue eyes. Like perfect lapis lazuli. Remind me of a set of stones I picked up in Myanmar."

She could not resist the flattery and bestowed a kiss on his cheek. "All right. It's only been a couple of months since we were together, so you don't need to go overboard. I didn't even know you were back in California." She looked for her uncle's ever-present shadow. "Where's Mack Dog?"

"In the truck."

Uncle Paul pointed to the top of the hill. She could just make out a glimmer of his dented pickup.

"He's getting old now. Doesn't like snow in his paws." He sighed. "Me, too, getting old. Been thinking about a lot of things lately."

The edge of melancholy in his words was so unlike him. "Where have you been? Why did you want to meet me?" She shivered and pulled her scarf tighter. "If you're going to try to talk me out of selling the place, it won't work. I've been the legal owner since I turned twenty-five two years ago."

"Yes, I am, but not for the reason you think." His eyes flickered over the frozen lake below them. He sighed, long and low, a sound so mournful that Ava felt a sudden twinge of dread.

"We don't have any choice but to sell it," she began, readying for yet another argument. "Dad thinks so, too." Her father had thought so for years and hadn't been shy about his opinions. She wished he was here now, but the winters were too harsh for a paraplegic in his condition.

He cut her off with a wave of his mittened hand.

"Ava, I know I messed up. Your mother left this place to us, and I took advantage. I blew it. Took money out figuring I could make it back and then some, but I never did."

She hated the tone of defeat in her uncle's voice. "You meant no harm. I know that."

He shook his head, sending a sprinkling of snow loose into the air that mingled with the flakes just starting to fall. "In my mind I knew I could make Whisper sparkle by the time you were old enough to take the reins, to bring it back to the days when there were people all over the mountain and wagon rides and campfires at midnight. You remember?"

"I remember."

"I know I was a wedge between your father and mother. Maybe if I'd stayed away, been more responsible, things would have turned out differently."

"My father would still be disabled from the wreck, and Mom would still have given up." She heard the bitter edge in her own words.

Uncle Paul heard it, too. The lines around his mouth deepened.

He flicked a glance toward the ridge above them where clouds massed in fantastic formation. "This time I really found it." He moved closer and took her by the shoulders. "As soon as I get it authenticated, we're going to have enough money to save Whisper Mountain with plenty left over."

Ava knew enough not to feed into her uncle's pie-in-the-sky notions. Even though she was barely twenty-seven, she had to be the mature voice of reason. "Whatever you think you've found, leave it where it is. I'm selling. I've got no choice."

He looked behind them at the stretch of road that meandered up to the top of the next hill separating Whisper Mountain from Gold Summit, immediately to the west of them. A lacy curtain of snow had begun to fall, the flakes blown around them by a frigid wind.

"Why did we have to meet here?" she demanded again.

He shrugged, but she thought she saw a shimmer of fear in his eyes. "Proper thing, to tell you here that Whisper Mountain is saved. I come here to pray all the time and you used to, didn't you, Ave? Do you still come?"

She shook her head. "Not anymore." Whisper Mountain was a place dead to her, buried in the past. The only reason she'd returned from Westbow was to sell it. Snow settled onto her lashes and she brushed it away.

She'd lost too much because of her mother's suicide ten years before. Ava's own life would forever be bisected by her mother's decision, into the time when she had been a normal, happy teen and after, when the world became an uncertain place. The source of her pain was right here on this piece of snow-covered world, and she was finally going to let it go.

"Uncle Paul, tell me—" she broke off as he started visibly, body tense.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?" she said, trying to pinpoint the source of his concern.

"I thought I heard Mack Dog. He must have gotten out and gone wandering again."

They both stood motionless, listening. The sound of an engine floated through the air and a snowmobile appeared at the bottom of the slope.

Paul's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Who is that?" she asked.

The snowmobile took off in their direction, gaining speed as it went. Ava stood frozen as it barreled toward them. Surely, the driver would stop, slow down as he approached.

He didn't. Incredibly, he seemed only to increase his speed. Paul shoved Ava away. "Get in the car."

"Wait," she screamed as Paul took off heading for the trees.

The snowmobile roared closer, changing course to target Uncle Paul.

"Get away, Ava," Uncle Paul yelled over his shoulder. "Get away now."

Luca looked over the pristine slope, skis poised to begin the descent. He could not keep from turning his gaze to the valley down below, ringed with hills. He remembered his high school winter breaks spent skiing here. His heart replayed the memory of the young woman who was so at home on the snow she seemed to fly over it, like a hawk skimming over the crystal world below. He was proficient on skis but never as good as she was, not even close. He wondered if she ever visited here, now that her property was closed up. Everything had changed her senior year after the car accident crippled her father and her mother committed suicide six months later.

"Hey, there," Stephanie said softly. "Lost in thought?"

He avoided looking at his sister. Even though he was elated that she and her high school sweetheart, Tate, had reunited in the course of their last treasure hunt, the happiness that shone on her face reminded him that he had just ended things with a woman he'd dated casually. There was no spark there, no spring of devotion like he'd seen in the eyes of his sister when she talked about Tate. "No, just remembering how good the runs were on Whisper Mountain."

She didn't answer, pushing a strand of her short dark hair back under her ski cap, gazing into the distance at the empty slopes. "It's a prime piece of real estate. Do you think Dad will buy it?"

He nodded. "I think he'd be a fool not to. Anyway, let's get some slope time before Victor lines up our new mission." Victor was the eldest Gage sibling and recently married in a double wedding along with Tate and Stephanie. It was fitting, as their last job at Treasure Seekers had turned up an eighteen-million-dollar violin and nearly gotten them all killed at the hands of a psychopath. They were all due for some good times.

Stephanie shivered, and he knew she was reliving the memories of their near escape, too. "Let's get back. Tate's probably missing us."

Luca grinned. "Missing you. We're still not best buds."

"That's because you're both stubborn gorillas."

"True, but he's your stubborn gorilla now, and he looks at you like he can't believe you're really his."

She blushed. "It drives him crazy that his bum leg keeps him down there while I'm up here, so I suspect he's strong-armed someone into giving him a pair of skis. I'd better get back before he thinks he's ready for the expert slopes."

"You go on," Luca said with a chuckle. "I'm going to take it slow. Meet you down there."

"Take it slow? Since when?" Stephanie cocked her head and gave him that look. "Sure?"

"Sure."

"All right, but don't do anything crazy on the slopes. There's a storm coming in. Remember, you're a treasure hunter, not an Olympic athlete." She swished away down the hill, skis gliding smoothly over the sparkling ground.

She was right, he was a treasure hunter at heart and it had been his idea to form the Treasure Seekers agency in the first place. He'd told himself it was to help his brother Victor deal with his first wife's sudden death, but it was more than likely a way to soothe his constant restlessness. In the off season when he wasn't piloting a helicopter for the U.S. Forest Service, there was not enough to keep him busy and busy was the only thing that kept him sane. He was the kid in grade school who could never seem to stay in his seat. Some things hadn't changed.

He and his siblings had found treasures, all right, everything from lost masterpieces to priceless stamps, yet he always experienced a letdown after each case, as if the treasure, rich though it was, was somehow not the prize he was meant to be looking for.

"Earthly treasures aren't going to satisfy," he could hear his father say. But he felt so alive when he was deep in the throes of a search, however dissatisfying the ending might be.

He shook the thoughts away and pulled his goggles into place.

One more run.

He shouldn't be skiing here, so close to the shut-down Whisper property. He puzzled over why the fond memories of his past there felt so strong. Idly he wondered what Ava would do after her family's property was sold. At least the sale might afford them some security. That's what Luca's father believed when he proposed buying it pending Luca's report.

Head out of the clouds, Luca.

He mentally picked out the path he intended to take down the mountain and readied himself to push off. A streak of black caught his attention. He jerked toward the movement, thinking he had imagined it until the shape zinged again through the white-robed trees finally coming to a stop on a flat rock that protruded above the snow. The dog barked, a loud, agitated sound that cut through the quiet of the snow-covered hollow.

Luca stared at the animal. Even though he could not figure out what a dog would be doing alone out here on the slopes, he was far more surprised by one particular detail. The animal was big, a scruffy black-and-tan creature that spoke of German shepherd parentage with something fluffier mixed in, but the strangest thing about him was his left ear, the top of which had been cut off somehow long ago, leaving a flattened tip.

Luca had known a dog with just such an ear, but he could not believe it. Ava's dreamer of an uncle owned a critter that answered to the same description, but it could not be one and the same. Uncle Paul, last Luca had heard, was lying low to escape a group of unsavory folks from whom he'd borrowed money.

"Mack Dog?" Luca yelled out, amazed that he remembered the name.

The dog jerked as if he'd gotten a shock, stood up and wagged a tentative tail in Luca's direction.

A noise from over the hill made them both tense. Luca was not sure but it might have been a shout or maybe just the echo of some agitated bird.

Mack Dog leaped from the rock, floundering in the snow before he began an awkward journey in the direction of the noise, bulldozing his way through the frozen piles, standing every few feet on his rear legs to get his visual bearings.

Luca watched the dog in amazement.

How could it be Mack Dog?
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Excerpt - TORN LOYALTIES by Vicki Hinze

Torn Loyalties
By Vicki Hinze

Madison McKay doesn't trust anyone. The former military woman and owner of Lost, Inc., learned about betrayal the hard way, in work and in love. That's why she'd never let herself fall for ex-military special investigator Grant Deaver. Yet when Madison is framed for a security breach at a top secret military facility, she's forced to put her life in Grant's hands. But after she discovers that he's been deceiving her, everything will be torn apart unless Grant can convince her to trust him with her life…and her heart.

Excerpt of chapter one:

Under the cover of deep darkness, Madison McKay slid on her belly in the dirt, lifted the binoculars to her eyes, then peered through a break in the thick woods and studied the distant top secret facility known as the Nest.

It had grown. A lot. In her days as an analyst there, the majority of the structures, a labyrinth of bunkers, had been built underground. Now, not one but four large buildings jutted into the night sky. A wide stretch of asphalt surrounded them, forming a clearing that ensured any approach would be noticed. Armed guards stood posted every twenty feet on the ground near concrete barricades, their backs to the buildings, and more soldiers were staggered on the rooftops. Obviously the commander expected something unusual to happen.

An attack? Unlikely. Only a handful of people assigned to the military installation surrounding the Nest knew the facility hidden at its core existed. So what had the Nest on high alert?

Her stomach burned; her fingers tingled. Northwest Florida had pretty mild winters, but being out in the woods, exposed to stiff winds and lying flat on the cold ground was enough to numb her gloved fingers and the tip of her masked nose. The stomach burn was acid due to sheer nerves.

Getting caught on the base without authorization would be bad, but getting caught on the perimeter of the Nest…

Not daring to think about the consequences, she cut off those thoughts, and kept watch.

Hours passed. Her eyelids grew heavy, then heavier, lulling her to doze off. She fought the temptation. Stay awake, Madison. Of all places, here—must stay alert.

Her resolve redoubled, she kept her breathing shallow, hoping that the mask would keep her exhaled breaths from fogging the air. Even something that slight from this distance could be noted. She kept watching, kept waiting.

Dawn threatened. Soon it would expose her, and in the past four hours, the only noteworthy observations she'd seen were changing of the guards. The soldiers had been relieved and replaced every hour, and that frequency proved telling. Whatever event or threat they expected hadn't yet passed and the commander wanted the soldiers fresh, sharp and on their toes.

In the year she'd been stationed at the Nest, they'd only been on high alert once, for a practice drill in a readiness exercise that had lasted less than two hours. A string of forty-seven eighteen-wheelers had been stopped at the main facility's outer gate. Soldiers had driven the trucks into the Nest, parked at the loading docks and unloaded boxes. The trucks were then returned to the outer gates and their drivers departed with them. The installation had been deemed ready.

Ready for what? No one, not even Madison, who analyzed delivery efficiency of the boxed contents defined only by one-word codes like Seeds or Purifier, had a clue.

But this alert was different, and two facts proved it: the absence of activity during the alert negated it being a readiness exercise drill, and the tension in the guards proved whatever initiated the alert was not ordinary.

The first signs of dawn pierced the horizon, tingeing it with a thin, pale streak that would soon thicken to daybreak. Her instincts told her to stay put, but she didn't dare. If discovered, she'd never be in a position to expose the truth. The commander would see to that…and possibly to a lot more.

Disappointment battered her. Tonight, after the St. Valentine's ball, she'd try again. Whatever happened here would happen at night.

The wind gusted. Madison's eyes teared. She blinked hard and fast. If the commander and/or his vice commander had done what she suspected, she had to be vigilant and cautious. She was the only thing left standing between them and their possible actions, and those actions could not happen again. Not on her watch. No more lost ones could be sacrificed here. They must find their way home….

Tonight. Tomorrow night. Six months of nights— whatever it takes, Madison promised herself, then rose to a crouch and scanned the woods. Stealth and hy-peralert, noting nothing unexpected, she moved from bush to tree through the thick woods, stepping lightly to avoid creating magnified sounds of dry leaves and twigs crunching underfoot.

With a scant fifteen minutes to spare before daylight exposed her, she left the restricted area and reached the public highway, then sprinted in the woods alongside the road to the sheltered spot where she'd parked her car to hide it from view.

Something odd was definitely going on out there. Whether or not it was connected to her case, she had no idea—yet. Bitterness filled her throat. Swallowing it, she eased into her silver Jaguar still hidden by darkness and shut the door.

"You want to explain what you're doing out there?"

Madison's heart rocketed. A man in her car. Oh, no. She'd been caught!

Madison squinted in the half-light, trying to identify the deeply shadowed silhouette of the man in her passenger seat. She recognized him.

Grant Deaver!

Her heart rate shot off the charts, and she inwardly groaned. Given the choice of a firing squad of the guards or this man, she'd take the firing squad. Them, she knew she couldn't trust. But Grant? The jury was still out on him. "You want to explain how you got into my car?"

He held up a key. "I used this."

She should have picked up on his cologne as soon as she opened the door. But she'd been so lost in thought that she'd missed it. Bad mistake. "Funny, I don't recall giving you a key to my vehicle."

"We've been dating since October, Madison," he reminded her. "Totally plausible you did and forgot it."

She hadn't forgotten a thing. He'd found the spare key she stowed in a magnetic case under the back bumper. "For the record, while you're endearing, your being here is not." He'd scared ten years off her, though she didn't mention it. She'd learned the hard way that exposing vulnerabilities was often interpreted as giving others a license to use them against you. Yes, they were dating. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But she strongly suspected he was under orders to spy on her and her staff. Of course, she kept him close. How else could she protect her staff or herself? That she found him attractive anyway, well, that was a challenge she just had to fight. "Why are you following me—and where's your car?"

"No car."

"You walked all the way out here?" It was ten miles into North Bay proper. Why would he do that? And how had he known where she'd be? Fair questions she needed answered after she got away from this facility. She cranked the engine and pulled over the deep shoulder and onto the road.

"My transportation is insignificant." He frowned at her. "And gauging by what I've observed—you pulling surveillance on an off-limits, highly classified military installation—you're hardly in a position to ask anyone questions." He lifted an irritated hand. "Dressed in covert operation gear with greasepaint smeared all over your face." She passed him her binoculars. "What are you doing out there at all, much less dressed like that? Are you trying to get yourself shot?"

She lowered the mask, let its strings loosely loop her neck and braked to a stop at the traffic light. The office or home?

Definitely not home. Not with him in the car. She'd shower and change at the office. It'd be hours before anyone else arrived. She hung a left and cruised past the sign to North Bay. "Since this is my car and you're in it uninvited, I'm perfectly positioned to ask whatever questions I want." She spared him a glance. "Why are you following me and how did you find me?"

Concern and anger feuded in his eyes, shone in the reflective light from the dash. "You were edgy all day—even more so than usual, which is saying something. You denied anything was up, so I had a friend drop me off."

So now two people had followed her and knew where she'd gone. Oh, definitely not good. "So because I chose not to answer you, you have the right to shadow me?" She slid him a mild frown. "If I wanted to disclose, I'd disclose." Inside, a part of her felt pleased he was concerned and wanted to protect her. Not surprising; he was a Christian, but one in an awkward position. She buried her emotional pleasure under the real facts. No way did she dare trust him. "Who brought you out here?"

"Mrs. Renault."

Her assistant. Pins of betrayal pricked and peppered her skin. "You're kidding me."

"She knows the danger, Madison."

She did. She'd been married to the former base commander. Still, telling Grant where Madison was and bringing him out there? What had Mrs. Renault been thinking?

"Don't get knotted up at her. I was worried about you and so was she." He paused and lowered his voice, not bothering to remove the sarcasm lacing it. "Worry. That's something normal people do when they care about someone—in between the times they're questioning their sanity for caring for someone as stubborn as you."

She opened her mouth to object. Before she got out the first word, he cut her off.

"You know what? Don't even bother. This has gone on long enough." He sighed irritably and dragged a hand through his short brown hair. "What's it going to take for you to trust me, Madison?"

That trust question had simmered unspoken between them from the start. She'd wished a hundred times in the past four months she could just drag the matter out into the open. But now that it was in the open, all she wanted to do was shove it back into the shadows.

Instead, she clicked her blinker with her pinkie, signaling a left turn. Trust was hard for her, maybe impossible, and for just cause. Once betrayed, twice shy. Still, he deserved an answer, so she gave him the only one she could. "I don't know."

"Since I hired on with you at Lost, Inc., you've put me through test after test—and you've poured on even more of them in our personal relationship." He lifted a warning finger. "This is not the time for you to say we don't have a personal relationship."

She'd like to deny it, but she couldn't. First, it wasn't true. They did have a relationship. A mostly adversarial one, but after four months under horrific conditions, she had to admit there was also a spark between them that promised they could be very good together…maybe. Eventually. And, keeping it real and fair, she had tested him to the max professionally and personally. Every single time, he'd passed with flying colors. Yet even that hadn't removed her doubts and resolved her trust issues.

"Not disputing the relationship," he said. "That's progress. Yet you don't know what it's going to take to trust me. And if you don't know, then obviously I can't know." He sighed again. More deeply. "So let's try a different question. How about keeping it simple—just tell me about this jaunt of yours tonight?"

Boldly stated, and a fair question. Right after the agency's open house during the annual Fall Festival back in October, she'd been invited to the military installation and quizzed about a security breach at the Nest. It had been easy to see they were after someone to blame. She'd countered by hiring Grant. He'd just left active duty working in the Office of Special Investigations for the very commander and vice commander who had questioned her, and she needed to keep an eye on him. Keep your friends close andyour enemies closer. Commander Talbot and Vice Commander Dayton were also the reason she was watching the Nest. She strongly suspected those two men had links to two civilian murders that unfortunately everyone except her deemed solved. The cases had been officially closed.

That was her initial connection to Grant Deaver. And while he hadn't sold her out—yet—he had reported Lost, Inc., events back to Talbot and Dayton, purportedly defending her agency. Still, the commander had a security breach at the Nest, and he and his vice commander were trying their best to blame it on someone at her agency. With Grant reporting to them, how could she trust him?

Tempted to blast that question at him, she fingered the Purple Heart medal in her jacket pocket to steady herself. This would be a dangerous time to lose her temper. Trust him with the truth? Oh, how she wished she could. "I can't answer that, either."

He grumbled under his breath. "How can you be attracted enough to me to date me but not trust me at all? I don't get it, Madison."

"Neither do I," she admitted, hating being put on the spot like this. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't be attracted and I'd never put you on my payroll—"

"I think I've just been insulted."

Two hundred pounds and six feet of bruised male ego she did not need. "That came out wrong." She glanced at him then back at the road. "Of course I'm attracted to you. What woman wouldn't be? What I meant was there's something about you that gets to me, but I wish it didn't."

"Because I'm on your payroll."

"Not really." Oh, she didn't want to get into this. Weary already, she didn't want to resurrect old wounds.

He flicked at the door handle with his fingertips. "You know, I'd really like to get out of this car, walk away from you and never look back—"

Panic threatened. "Grant, don't. Please." She didn't want him to go. She wanted… She didn't know what she wanted, but she wanted him with her.

"I won't." His frown deepened to a scowl. "Because as unfair as this situation is, I understand, and I'm as conflicted about you as you are about me."

The attraction was mutual…and mutually disdainful. That pricked more than her pride. It pricked her heart. "Sometimes God has a bizarre sense of humor."

"Apparently." He lifted a finger. "Watch that deer."

Spotting it on the edge of the road, Madison slowed and veered into the other lane to give the animal a wide berth. "Listen, I admit that this case has me worked up, and I'm touchier than usual because of it. It's also been a really long night. Can we talk about this later?" After she thawed out would be good.

"'This case,' you said. So you were at the Nest because of the David Pace and Beth Crane murders." Grant's frustration showed in his expression.
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Review: Friday dreaming

Friday dreaming by Elizabeth Bailey

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Very cute, sweet Regency romance. The characters are a bit young--heroine is 19? 21? and hero is only about 23. I would definitely recommend this for any teenage historical romance lovers--the dialogue and emotions seemed very YA to me, in a funny and sweet way.



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