Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 532

Catch me having fun with whipped cream!

So, sue me! I had to make that sound sexier than it really is. I'm blogging at the Whipped Cream Reviews blog today. Stop by and say hello. I don't want to be lonely. ~DD

And a reminder!

Tonight, I have two back-to-back events:

* Night Owl Romance, live chat with Lorie O'Clare at 8 PM EST!

* After Midnight Fantasy authors' chat at Writerspace at 9 PM EST!

Sunday Report Card

Report Card

Although real life sank two days like a torpedo (Wednesday's trip to the Wax Museum and the medical drama with my daughter on Thursday), I still managed to get some stuff done.

* On Monday, I did a marathon and wrapped up my BDSM story, and then revised and shipped the sucker to my editor. By Friday, I had a contract and a title: Begging For It.

* On Friday, I shipped a partial (three chapters and a synopsis) to an editor I had chatted with regarding my medieval fantasy. I am hoping for feedback. He did say to send it "raw" and he would offer suggestions for what needs to happen with the story to make it saleable. We'll see. I've been stuck on the project for a while.

* Yesterday, I completed a revision of a previously published short story I plan to include in a Kindle anthology. I added 19 pages (mostly sex and angst), and shipped it for critique.

Not shabby for the week, huh? And I got a lovely bit of news, via surfing the EC site last night—Handy Men will release on April 6th!

Special Events

I do have some things happening this week if you just want to hang out and maybe win something…

Tonight at 8 PM EST, I'll be live at the Writerspace chatroom. I'm giving away a $25.00 Amazon gift certificate and a signed copy of Ravished by a Viking to two lucky winners!

Tomorrow night, I have two back-to-back events:

* Night Owl Romance, live chat with Lorie O'Clare at 8 PM EST!

* After Midnight Fantasy authors' chat at Writerspace at 9 PM EST!

I hope you'll join me. We always have fun!

Lesbian Cops is out!

[Don't miss the winner announcement at the bottom of this post!]

My horoscope today: "You are fortunate in that you have a clear vision of what you want out of life, Delilah. Many people never truly know what it is they are meant to be doing. Even with the distinct advantage that you have, however, you may still find it difficult to "live your bliss," as the expression goes. Too many people, all of them well meaning, try hard to impose their opinions on you. Stand firm. You better than anyone know what's best for you."

When a horoscope is good, I thank the cosmos for the good advice. When it's bad, I quickly hit delete and thank goodness I don't believe a word of it! Today, I'm grateful.

Anyway, Lesbian Cops, the latest erotica anthology from Cleis Press (the same folks who are publishing Girls Who Bite), is out on Amazon.com early!! Click on the cover for the Buy Link!

Yeah, the cover is a little strange, but hey, the stories HAVE to be hot, right?

What is it about lesbian cops that pushes all the right buttons? It's not just the uniform, with handcuffs and weapons, or the confidence, authority, and sense of danger. There's something more as well, an irresistible force that these writers have channeled into fiercely erotic stories of policewomen in or out of uniform, on patrol or undercover, in charge or in need of healing, on the case or under the sheets.

The action can be gut-level tough, as in Jove Belle's "Hollis" where anti-terrorism boot camp surges over the inevitable edge into BDSM, or heart-wrenching as in Evan Mora's "A Cop's Wife" when death threats sharpen the need for life-affirming sex to a keen edge, or quirky as well as steamy while Teresa Noelle Roberts's cop finds a way to maintain respect for her own "Dress Uniform" while indulging her anime-girl lover's cos-play kink. Delilah Devlin, Andrea Dale, R. G. Emanuelle, Cheyenne Blue, and all the other contributors offer their own sizzling visions of the complexity and depth, the strength and vulnerability, and above all the commanding, overwhelming sex appeal of Lesbian Cops.

From my short story, The Only Game in Town, about the budding relationship between a bicycle cop and a patrolwoman:

The next few days were a little strained around the guys. Word got around. Sly glances followed me everywhere. But since I didn't rise to any of their innuendos, the excitement faded and they found someone else to hound.

This day, I'd parked my car at the Stop 'n' Go. It might be small-town Louisiana, but bandits still preferred the ease of a quickie robbery when they were low on cash. The store had been hit twice in the past six months and the sheriff had promised a "presence" to the owner. So in between calls, I parked in the hot sun at the edge of the parking lot, running my AC with the window open to ease the humidity inside the vehicle.

The whir of spokes catching the wind whizzed by my car. Little black shorts hugging a nicely rounded backside caught my attention.

Ramona halted at the edge of the curb next to the shop's front door and eased off her helmet. Sweat stained the center of her back, her hair lay in wet tangled spikes around her head. She glanced my way and gave me a smile that set my heart beating faster, and then entered the store.

I opened my car door and dumped the fresh cup of coffee I'd bought just a few minutes before then headed inside.

"Back so soon?" Dolores asked from her seat behind the counter.

I gave a quick glance around the aisles but didn't find my quarry. "That cup went right through me," I said, making my way to the restroom in the back.

Once the door swung shut behind me, I quietly locked it.

A toilet flushed. The stall door opened. Ramona stepped out and her eyes widened. "Didn't hear you come in, Cath."

"I won't keep you long."

She walked to the sink, soaped up and cleansed her hands, then used a paper towel to wipe the sweat from her face. "What is it you want?"

I leaned against the bathroom door and folded my arms over my chest. "You said we should take some time to know each other, but that's never gonna happen if you're avoiding me."

She met my glance in the mirror. Challenge glittered in her golden brown eyes. "Is that what you think I'm doing? Why'd I come here when I could have chosen a dozen other businesses to stop in?"

I raised a brow. "Maybe because it's public and you could say you weren't avoiding me and get away with it?"

She grunted, her lips twisting. "Again, what is it you want?"

This wasn't going well. Again, I felt like I had two left feet. "How about a yes or no?" I blurted. "Wanna go out?"

She gave a feminine grunt. "No."

The disappointment cut, but I nodded, firming my chin, and began to turn.

"There's not anywhere in public we can go together, Cath. The sheriff wouldn't like it if we paraded a date. But I'd like you to come over for dinner."

"Your place?" I said, forcing the words past a tightened throat.

"Yeah. Tonight." She sauntered forward and tucked her fingers under the sharp edges of my buttoned collar. Her hand twisted, cinching it around my throat and pulling me down.

I'd kissed women before. Even kissed a few men. This was hotter than I'd ever had—even with two layers of Kevlar between our chests.

Her mouth smoothed over mine then suctioned. Her lips were thick and juicy, her tongue rimming me. I waited, not charging in, and was rewarded when her tongue pushed against mine. Just a touch, and then it was gone. I tasted mint. She had to taste the coffee I'd guzzled all day.

She leaned back, her mouth open and air gusting as she licked her lips. "Tonight."

She strode past me. I heard the snick of the lock as she opened it. The door whooshed closed.

"Oh, fuck."

And someone today is going to be particularly grateful for the gooey goodness that is The Hillbilly Calendar! Drumroll…the winner is…Estella!

A Question…

[Psst! Yesterday's contest runs through today. I'll announce the winner tomorrow morning! So be sure to post a comment for a second chance to win!]

I woke up late today. I was a little worn out.

Yesterday, I spent the day trying to find a doctor to accept the red-headed hellion as a patient. She has stomach issues and no insurance. Yesterday, things came to a head when the clinic she has been going to told her she needed to go to her family care doctor even though she was in pain and becoming dehydrated. Well, she was going to them because she didn't have a family doctor! Every doctor we contacted had waiting lists of three to five weeks for new patients. So, I took her to the emergency room. And guess what? They couldn't run any tests either, even though I had my checkbook handy.

Red and I were seriously discussing sending her to Ireland. She has dual citizenship, and there, she has a right to health care. It may still, in the long run, be cheaper for me to pay for a round trip ticket for her to go there for testing and any surgery she may need. But we did find another group doctor clinic. I had to be the mean mama at the front desk, asking them what the hell we were supposed to do to get her seen by someone when she's in pain.

And we don't need health reform? Shame, shame, shame!

So, off my soapbox. Y'all know I don't get political here. And I do have a very important question to ask you.

If you were to write a book, what would you choose as the topic? (Now, you could choose fiction or non-fiction—just something you would be passionate about writing!)

Day at the Wax Museum (Contest!)

Yesterday was fun! I went with the red-headed hellion and her family to nearby Hot Springs. We shopped like mad at our favorite haunts (Tillman's and Romancing the Stone), then made our way to the Wax Museum. It isn't "Madame Tussaud's", but rather "Josephine Tussaud's", which is a hint that all is not quite right with the attraction. Judge for yourself.

The two year-old wasn't scared of the werewolf crashing through the wall.

My favorite!

Needed more blood and guts, I think.

Jack Sparrow didn't look grimy enough.

This one creeped me out. I kept expecting them all to turn toward me with their vacant stares…

Here's my baby and me.

You'd think a wax museum would do casts of shrunken heads. But I did find a Hillbilly calendar to give away to one "lucky" reader. It's full of helpful holidays and appointments, like "Pay Pa's Bale", Ma shoe the mule", and "Shoot snakes at swimmin hole". I'll be sure to toss in some Delilah goodies too! Comment to win this great prize!

Guest Blogger: Kathy Kulig

[Psst! Find details about a contest running today at the bottom of this blog!]

Faking It

By Kathy Kulig

Don't be fooled by the title. This post isn't exactly what you might think it is. I recently took a class titled: Act Like a Writer given by NY Times bestselling author Jonathan Maberry and actor, author and teacher Keith Strunk. This course teaches acting techniques to help writers learn to create a strong public persona to give better pitches, workshops, readings and just improve communication with publishing professionals. I knew I was going to hate parts of this class, and I was right, but I'm so glad I took it. Most writers are introverts (aka hermits) who feel most comfortable hidden away in their writing caves. Stick them in a room full of publishing professionals and they're usually eyeing the nearest exit. So how do introverts give the appearance of being intelligent, articulate writing professionals? Partly by faking it before we make it. And also by pushing the limits of our comfort zones.

The first day of class was a nightmare. I had to do a mock pitch of my book. I've done tons of pitches before. Even though I rewrote mine the night before, I'd printed it up on a nice card for reference. I felt pretty confident I'd do the pitch okay. Then Jonathan said we were going to be videotaped. Ugh! Then he said , "No notes." Ack! In seven years of pitching, I've never done one without a note card for reference. I said two lines, looked at the camera and went blank. Gawd. Awful. Worse than that, the clip was uploaded on our loop for the other nine students to review and critique, reliving the embarrassment. The final day of class I had to do a long pitch standing in front of the awful camera. I was better than before, but I see where I can improve. And I have since thought of where I can improve the content of my pitch. I will be going to a conference this month and pitching. I will not be using notes. I'll let you know how I do.

You'll never see me get on stage to act, and you probably won't see me walk into a ball room at a conference saying, "Ta Da, I'm here!" But I do feel more confident about presenting myself as a professional. When it comes to my work, work I'm proud of, work I'm representing, I can show my passion, commitment and enthusiasm because I'm the best advocate for my books.

A note to readers: I've talked to readers at conferences who said they were nervous and shy about talking to their favorite authors. Believe me I understand about being shy. But authors love, love to have readers come up to them and say they enjoy their books. Trust me it'll make their day. If you're still nervous, find me and I'll introduce you. I'm attending the RWA National Conference in NY City June 28-July 2. And Romanticon in Akron, Ohio September 29-October 2.

*Has anyone ever gone to one of the big conferences like Romantic Times and felt over whelmed? Or lost in the crowd? What do you do?

Emerald Dungeon my new book with Ellora's Cave was released today March 23rd. Yay! It's part of the 1-800-DOM-help author series. I'd love to share the cover and blurb. Buy Link

I have a cool trailer if you'd like to check it out: Book Trailer

Dana's summer job as a musician in an Irish castle takes an adventurous turn after she witnesses a BDSM scene in the dungeon, and her submissive side is aroused.

Jack is a sexy Dominant who recognizes the sub smoldering beneath the demure exterior. His skillful commands take Dana beyond her darkest erotic fantasies.

Whips, restraints and increasing levels of pain heighten her passion, but complete surrender and ecstasy is out of her reach. Will a summer affair be enough to find what they both need? The appearance of a mysterious 1-800-DOM-help business card offers to guide them. Secrets and strange events around the castle only add to their troubles. If Dana can accept Jack with complete trust and surrender, then ultimate pleasure and true love is possible.

Thanks so much for having me as a guest Delilah. It's always fun to check out your blog. ~KK

Surprise contest! Head to Wild and Wicked Cowboys to enter! We're giving away 6 erotic romance books today! Stop by for details, and good luck!

Enjoy a free erotic moment!

Just FYI, I finished that pesky Dom story late last night. I wasn't going to let the sucker beat me! So another one bites the dusk. Back to vampires today!

I have a short story posted on Everything Erotic today. Head over there if you're in the mood for something sexy! Everything Erotic

Join me at After Midnight Fantasies!

Be sure to pop by the AMF blog today. I'm the author on the spot, and you know I hate looking like I don't have any friends.

Here's the link: After Midnight Fantasies

Sunday Report Card

I'm a slug. I'm hovering at the end of this BDSM story. I've wanted to be done with it for two weeks now, but I keep letting life get in the way. Someone, please nag me. Tell me I'm worthless—no, don't do that, I might start to wonder if you were someone who read their first DD book and thought it sucked, then I'd suffer all kinds of new issues and NEVER write another word. Maybe if you beg me, very nicely, or tell me your dying sister doesn't have long to live but wants to read THAT book before she does… You get the picture. I need a kick in the ass.

This week, I worked on taxes and things like release planning and promo spending. I also got my copyedits back for Handy Men. It shouldn't be long before you see it on the Coming Soon page on Ellora's Cave's site.

This next week, with your well-placed boot, I hope to finish the BDSM story and revise the heck out of a short story, expanding it to novella length. I plan to release that novella in a volume with my sister in a straight-to-kindle project. Oh, and I should start today by finishing the copyedits for HM! Yeah, lots on my plate. I have to stay focused. Now, do your part!

Snippet Saturday: All About The Girl (Female Protagonist)

I hope you enjoy today's snippet. I'm off to Little Rock for my monthly RWA chapter meeting. I really, really hate the drive, but I love to see my friends. Wish I could convince the lot of them that they need to come to my podunk town for the meetings.

I didn't get a lick of work done yesterday. (What does that phrase mean anyway? A lick of work?) Daughter and I spent the day together. We hit a rock shop. Uh huh. Picked up stone "power wands" and a couple of new worry stones. I bought another of my animal totem carvings. And now you know how thoroughly strange I am.

Y'all have fun today. Enjoy your weekend. I hope the excerpt gives you just the right start!

"…loved everything about SIN'S Gift…the way Delilah Devlin sets up her world makes it feel like nothing I've read before…"
5 Angels and RECOMMENDED READ!, Fallen Angels on SIN'S GIFT


"…A turbulent relationship and sexy, spooky thrills await readers in SIN'S GIFT…This is a well written and engrossing tale with complex characters who have hidden depths. Enter into other realms with the highly recommended SIN'S GIFT."
Jennell, RRT Erotic on SIN'S GIFT


"…Wow, I loved this novella. It's fabulously exciting and a fast, exhilarating read…I recommend this book to everyone that loves hot, sexy paranormal story. I love Delilah Devlin's books and this is one of her best yet…"

5 Hearts, Abi, The Romance Studio on SIN'S GIFT

Police Officer Sinead O'Rourke returns to duty months after being shot in an incident that also claimed her partner, Danny. Despite being cleared of any negligence, Sin knows her fellow officers wonder whether she's partially responsible for his death. One more problem is that everyone knows she claims she's seen Danny. After months of rehabilitation and counseling, and lying like hell about the fact she's not seeing spooks anymore, Sin's determined to get back into the saddle. But her first day back in the patrol car, Sin sees something more horrifying than the ghost of her dead partner and enters a deadly new world. Jake doesn't want to partner with Sin. Been there, done that—couldn't keep his hands off her the first time around. She's too much of a distraction and her penchant for rushing into trouble scares the hell out of him. Despite wishing she'd quit her job, he's still deeply attracted. When an armed robbery goes down and something happens that rattles Sin to the core, he's right there—ready to cover her back and her sweet body.

"Sure you're ready for this?"

Sin stifled a groan. How many times would she hear that today? She especially didn't want to hear it from Jake Chapa's lips. Lips she knew the texture and taste of all too well.

She didn't respond, still fuming because he hadn't even offered to let her drive. That had been only one of the bitches she'd had partnering with him before. He'd never trusted her. Not with the car. Not with his back.

Now he'd been just fine playing house with her for a while, but he was too much of a chauvinist to ever accept her working at his side.

She'd looked him over when she strode through the garage to the car. He hadn't changed a bit. Same thickly muscled frame, hair so "high and tight" a Marine DI would weep, same sensually charged expression that always made her stomach clench. He'd been a god in bed, but a total asshole as a boyfriend. What was the lieutenant thinking? She thought she knew the answer.

He hoped she'd wash out in a week, and he wouldn't have to worry about her getting anyone else killed.

Only everyone should have known that wasn't what happened. The review board had cleared her—and Danny, posthumously—of any negligence.

Memories too painful to face for months came flooding back. They'd just finished lunch and were arguing over who had to pay the bill. Danny had lost a round of pool the night before, but claimed she'd cheated when he turned his back.

She had. He knew it. She knew he knew it, but he hadn't caught her. A fair loss in her books. A win was a win.

The argument had been lighthearted and one they'd had before. However, when they stepped from under the restaurant awning, they'd walked right into a pair of masked gunmen.

Her hands held a doggy bag. She dropped it and reached for her gun. Before it even cleared her holster, an explosion rocked her off her feet.

She'd woken in the ambulance, EMS shoving fluids in a vein, blood stinging her eyes.

Danny whispered in her ear, "You're gonna make it, Sin. Hold on. Don't go to sleep."

When she'd swum up through the anesthesia after surgery, Jake sat beside her. Danny stood right behind him.

Jake's face had been gray, his expression haggard.

"You look like hell," she croaked, her throat feeling raw. Thick bandages taped across her cheek and under her chin limited the movement of her tongue, which felt thick and dry.

She glanced from Jake to Danny. "Glad to see they didn't get the drop on you too."

"Wasn't anywhere near when it happened," Jake said, his lips tight.

"Not talkin' to you."

Danny's gaze held hers for a long moment, and then he backed away—melting into the wall.

Her screams left her voiceless for days afterward.

Worse, Jake hadn't come back to see her.

Not that she'd missed him. They'd been over a long time before the day Danny bled to death on the pavement. That he'd been Jake's best friend, his high school buddy, had to make it that much harder for him to look at her.

She could hardly stand the sight of her own face. The scar where the .22 caliber bullet tore through her cheek was a daily reminder not to get too close. Ever again. She'd let down her guard, joking with a friend and sharing a smile instead of looking where she was going.

Jake made a turn onto an arched stone bridge, and then slid back into traffic at the next intersection, passing a cop on a bicycle. The cop started to lift his hand in greeting until he spied who sat on the passenger side.

Sin sighed. She had a long way to go. She's been cleared—and that might have been the end of the suspicions—but add the fact she'd lost it and no one wanted to trust her. She'd do like the psychiatrist and the counselor after him recommended. Ease back in. Win their trust slowly through solid police work.

No one could ever know she still saw Danny everywhere. She'd taken the meds for a while, seen a shrink twice a week—and lied like a bitch every time. About Danny, about her insomnia. She hid the dark circles under eyes with makeup and pasted on a smile. She was fine. Just fine. Ready to get back into the saddle.

Only she'd woken that morning feeling sick to her stomach, ready to puke, her hands trembling. She'd shaken some of the antidepressants she hadn't been taking into her palm and swallowed them dry. She'd make it through the day if she had to crawl to the end of it. And Jake would never know what it cost her to sit beside him in silence.

She'd missed him. After they'd broken up, she'd still seen him often. As Danny's best friend, they spent time together after work, unwinding over a pool table and beer. Although she'd pretended she'd been okay with it, she was starved for his company. Waiting for a glimpse of his gaze sharpening on her as though he was trying to crawl into her mind. He'd known her well, but she'd gotten to be an expert at a teasing quip or a nasty barb to deflect him. No way would she let him know how much their breakup had hurt her.

Still hurt. And now, he thought he had to baby-sit a nut job. He hadn't looked at her once since she slid into the seat beside him. "How's Johnny?" she asked, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist talking about his little brother. Johnny had joined the force three years after they had. She'd sat beside Jake at his graduation.

"Fine. He's working at the east substation."

She waited, hoping he'd say more, but his jaw tightened and he glanced into his mirrors, a clear signal he didn't want to make small talk. It was gonna be a long night.

The setting sun cast long shadows as it dipped behind the buildings lining the roads. They turned onto Broadway and passed a bus stop. She glanced inside to the shaded bench and caught a glimpse of a man wearing a tattered military fatigue jacket; the side of his jaw facing her was stubbled with gray hair. When they drew past him, she gave him a nod, and then stared as they pulled away.

Her heart tripped, her stomach knotted. The half she hadn't seen on their approach had appeared blurred—not through physical injury. The left side of his face had looked as though a painter had streaked the colors, muted the edges. The outline of his cheek and jaw had bled away in gray and red strokes. His eyes, however, had been piercing, distinct—and glowing.

Suddenly, Sin thought that maybe everyone had been right. She wasn't ready for this. The bullet that had lodged in her face must have done some real damage to her brain. Rattled it. Jumbled up the signals. How else could she explain the weird things she'd been seeing?

Her stomach lurched and she wished she'd eaten lunch. She thought she might puke and decided to ask Jake to stop the car, but the moment she opened her mouth the radio squawked. An armed robbery was in progress not a block away.

"Gonna respond, O'Rourke?" Jake asked, his tone clipped.

Knowing she should say something, tell him she couldn't do it, that she thought she'd be sick—she reached for the mike, telling the dispatcher they were on their way.

Jake hit the switch, sending the blue and white lights swirling and the siren blaring.

Sin gripped the edge of her seat, girding herself for what was coming. This was something she'd done before. Armed men she could handle. She wasn't unprepared, wasn't carrying her damn lunch. But she hoped like hell her hallucinations would wait until the danger was past.

Just let me get through this. I'll tell the lieutenant I'm through. Christ, I can't let Jake down.

They weren't the first unit to arrive. Jake halted in front of another car turned sideways in the street to block traffic. Out of old habit, Sin hit her mike to let the dispatcher know they'd arrived and slammed open the door, ducking low like the officers who kept their gazes on the shop across the street.

"What do we have?" Sin asked between tightly clenched teeth, hating that her nerves were kicking in.

"Robbery inside that coin shop. The store owner's inside. Maybe one customer. He tripped a silent alarm."

"Any shots fired?" Jake asked, his voice steady and cool.

"None, but there hasn't been any movement either. SWAT's on the way."

Jake took a deep breath, then shot a glance her way. She could read the hesitation in his gaze.

She narrowed her eyes, daring him to voice his concern.

His mouth tightened. "Let's go cover the alley behind it. You follow me."

For once, she didn't mind his taking charge.

With their weapons drawn, they backed away from the other officers, not straightening until they were out of the line of sight of anyone inside the store, then took off at a dead run to the end of the street, turned and headed toward the entrance of the alley that stretched behind the row of small shops.

When they reached the corner of alley, Jake raised an arm, blocking her. "Sin, you ready for this?" he asked. His face had lost its hard-edged reserve. Worry darkened his gaze.

She swallowed and nodded, determined not to let him down. "I have your back."

For a moment longer, he held her gaze, and then his shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath. "Let's go." He flattened his back against the wall of the building and edged closer to the alley to peek into the darkening space. "It's clear." Then he was off.

Sin followed, her gaze darting into the shadows. They sped along the alley, using trash bins to hide behind as they gave each other cover, finally arriving at the back door of the shop.

Jake clicked his mike. "We're at the back door," he said quietly.

"Hold your position."

Dragging deep breaths as quietly as she could to calm her heart, she plastered her back to the opposite side of the door, keeping her gaze on Jake's face, waiting for him to signal her should they need to enter.

He gave her a tight smile, and then something in his expression alerted her. The sound of scuffling feet from inside the shop stopped just the other side of the door. Jake placed a finger over his lips to tell her to stay quiet, then stepped away from the wall, raising his weapon.

Sin kept her back to the wall, lifting her own weapon to point toward the opening.

Two men dashed out, the long barrels of their shotguns pointing outward.

"Drop your weapons," Jake shouted.

The man nearest her lowered the barrel of his shotgun, aiming it straight at Jake. Sin leapt forward, grabbed the barrel and slammed it upward, sticking her own weapon against his side. "Drop it or I swear I'll shoot."

A low growling sound, like that of a trapped mountain lion, erupted from the man whose face she couldn't make out in the shadows. In a movement so fast she didn't have time to even pull back her trigger, he twisted away, let go of the shotgun and shoved her back, taking off in the opposite direction from Jake.

Mad she'd let him get away, she hesitated, gave Jake a quick glance and saw he had already wrestled his subject to the ground. Jake's brows drew into a fierce scowl as his gaze followed the fleeing suspect.

She knew if he could have, he'd have handed her his suspect and taken chase himself rather than let her go. "I've got it," she said, glad he was safe and already speeding past him.

"Don't get your ass hurt!" he shouted after her, the charged words accompanied by the snick of handcuffs encircling his man's wrists.

Sin dropped the shotgun she still held and sprinted down the alley, following the footfalls clapping so fast, she wondered if she had a chance to overtake him. "One's heading south down the alley," she barked into her mike. "Chapa's got the other cuffed. Need backup."

Glad she'd been working out, running miles to rebuild her strength, Sin trailed the man, just keeping him in sight. She concentrated on her breathing, listened to the steady but rapid beat of her heart. While her body shoved past her endurance, her mind calmed. Jake was okay. She had an unarmed man to take down, or at least to track. She could handle this. Maybe she really was ready to be back.

More sirens whined in the distance. When the robbery suspect turned onto another street, she kept on his tail. "He turned north on Brooklyn." She felt strong, not even winded yet. Maybe she was ready for this after all.

The sirens drew closer. "Where ya gonna go, bastard," she said more to herself than the man sprinting up the block ahead of her. At the corner of an intersection, he paused to check traffic, glancing back at her.

Her heart thudded heavily in her chest.

Caught in the light from a streetlamp, half his face blurred away—same as the homeless guy at the bus stop. Golden eyes glowed.

"No. Goddamn it, not now," she whispered.

She didn't let her steps falter or slow, forced herself to ignore the warning clambering in her mind. She kept on his ass, ignoring the blare of horns as he ran into the traffic. She darted right behind him, keeping her gaze on him, not the cars blasting their horns or squealing their tires.

She wasn't gonna lose him because she'd lost her mind.

When he ducked into a space between two buildings, she almost smiled. She had him cornered. The end of the narrow space was the back of another building. No exit. All she had to do was wait him out. She relayed her location. Another officer was only a minute away.

She ducked into the channel, too narrow to drive into, but wide enough for two men to walk through shoulder to shoulder. Still running, she shouted ahead, "You can't make it out of here. It's a dead end."

His steps didn't slow.

So he didn't believe her, and she wanted to see his face again, wanted to look closely and erase the blurred image she held in her mind. She kept running. Gaining on him, she reached out for the back of his shirt, grabbing a wad of cotton and jerked. The building at the end was just ahead. All she had to do was swing him around and she'd take him down.

Only he was strong. He kept moving forward, dragging her behind him. She tried to dig in her heels to slow them down, but he wouldn't let her. At the last moment before they slammed into the wall, she raised her other arm to brace for the sudden stop, knowing it would hurt like hell.

The man growled again, the low, grating hum sounding like a big cat's squall, and leapt the last few feet, jerking her off her feet and through a hole that glimmered at the edges before it flickered out.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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