Stacy Claflin's Blog, page 10

He’s looking for his lost love… but she’s in a different time period

Time hopper Penelope is trying to stop her parents’ murder when she stumbles into an unusual location and meets a gorgeous stranger. Chase clearly knows her… even though she’s never seen him. She’ll have to trust him if she hopes to stop her parents’ killers – assuming he isn’t one of them…

He’s looking for his lost love… but she’s living in a different time period.

Chase Williams is desperate to find Penelope Jackson, and the only shot he has is by locating a specific mirror. Even then, his chances are slim. He can’t operate it, so she’d have to tumble through it to his exact time.

Penelope has been traveling through various years in her history in search of her parents’ killers. She’d been with the agency so long, she can hardly remember life before. She relies on her trusty mirror to take her to the times and places she needs to go.

Then one day, she stumbles out into a strange new place… and meets a man who clearly knows who she is. But she’s never seen him before—of that much, she’s sure. Unless her future self has? The possibilities are too numerous to count, and the implications could be disastrous. Is this man trustworthy or out to get her?

Giving her heart over could be the only way to find out for sure. Or it could lead to her ultimate demise. And maybe the destruction of time as we know it.

FREE FOR A LIMITED TIME:

Amazon

Excerpt

Chase Williams set down the leather suitcase and glanced over at some people huddled around something he couldn’t see. Turning his back, he raked his fingers through his scraggly hair, which purposefully covered his eyes, then picked up a smaller piece of luggage. He pretended to study it while looking around the large parlor filled with elegant and expensive items.

The crowd lusted after object upon object, greedy for any good deal. Chase, however, knew exactly what he wanted—and he would pay any price for it.

He replaced the bag then meandered to a shelf of expensive knickknacks. Soft murmurs caught his attention. Picking up a watch and feigning interest, he focused on the hushed conversation while glancing over from the corner of his eye, using his wavy hair to curtain his attention.

Two girls, probably teenagers, huddled together and whispered. Kept glancing his way.

Chase’s stomach knotted. Did they recognize him? He hardly looked like himself with the long hair and beard. But true fans and serious haters alike could always pick him out no matter how he disguised himself.

He held up the watch at different angles, still focused on the two girls.

“You think that’s really him?” asked the blonde with too much makeup.

The curly-haired brunette glanced his way. “It’s Chase Williams! It’s really him.”

“He looks like a lumberjack.” The blonde’s mouth curled in disgust.

“Still hot as ever. That’s definitely him.” The brunette sighed dramatically.

“You should go over there and say something.”

The brunette’s mouth fell open. “No way! Just go over and talk to Chase Williams? What would I say?”

The blonde pulled out a mirror and puckered her lips. “Anything. It’s better than staring like a fool. At least ask for a selfie with him or something. People say he’s always nice to fans. Although, who knows now? Like I said, total lumberjack. He hasn’t been the same since—”

“He doesn’t look like a lumberjack! I can’t talk to him.”

Chase took a deep breath and turned away, setting the watch back on the shelf. In days gone by, he would’ve happily gone up to the girl, gotten selfies, and said something nice to her. But those were no longer the days he was living in. Everything had changed, including him. If he got the selfie, the picture could spread like wildfire on social media. He had his new look for a reason, and that was to stay out of the limelight. So far, he had managed to keep his new look from getting online.

And he intended to keep it that way.

The girls were still whispering. He took another long deep breath and considered bolting, but he hadn’t come to the estate sale for nothing. After he’d checked out all the furniture, he would leave. And once again, enjoy anonymity.

He picked up something else from the shelf and pretended to look at it, but his mind was too far away to even notice what he held. The girls’ whispers seemed to grow louder, grating on his nerves.

People were finally walking away from the furniture, so Chase sauntered over, pretending he didn’t hear their discussion.

It did no good. The blonde grabbed his arm.

Chase’s pulse raced and anger boiled in his chest. Didn’t the girl know better than to grab someone? He yanked his arm away. “What do you want?”

She stared at him, unblinking. “Are you Chase Williams?”

He grated his teeth. “It’s none of your business. Excuse me.”

“What a beast!” She glared at him. “You look like a wild animal.”

A series of insults raced through his mind, but Chase wasn’t about to talk like that to teenage girls. As much as being recognized annoyed him, they hadn’t done anything wrong. Even grabbing his arm wasn’t that bad. He’d experienced worse. Much worse. He stepped aside. “Excuse me.”

Chase made his way over to the furniture then looked around. Disappointment washed through him, as it always did. He was never going to find what he was looking for. He searched all the estate sales, garage sales, and secondhand stores in the area. It would do no good. Heck, he could check every single one in the nation and it wouldn’t matter. Looking for it was a lost cause.

Yet he couldn’t stop.

Other than time, he had nothing, anyway.

He ran his fingers along the back of a sofa, wandered over to a computer chair, then studied a framed painting. It looked like it was worth something, and it might fit into one of his rooms, but it wasn’t what he came for.

He didn’t see anything like that anywhere.

Gasps, giggles, and whispers sounded behind him. Chase spun around. Those two girls were snapping pictures of him with their phones.

Rage ran through him. The temptation to grab their phones and smash them was real. Everything took on a red hue. He clenched his fists, counted to ten, and considered his wording before he spoke. “Don’t post those, or you’ll find yourself with a lawsuit!”

“It’s a free world!” The blonde scowled at him.

He gritted his teeth. “You’ll be singing a different tune when my lawyer is done with you!”

She giggled and took more pictures, but the brunette put her phone away.

Chase’s fury was going to come to a boiling point with that snarky blonde. If he didn’t get outside soon, he would do something he would later regret. Especially given the fact that they were taking pictures of him.

He stepped closer, aware that all the attention in the room was now focused on him. “I’m asking you politely not to post those pictures. I’m staying out of the spotlight for a reason. I don’t want my current image online. If I get a selfie with you, will you promise to keep the photos offline?”

“Are you joking?” The blonde laughed.

“You’d really get a selfie with us?” The brunette played with a curl and sucked in her lower lip, bouncing from one foot to the other.

Chase nodded. “As long as you promise to keep the pictures to yourself until I go public again.”

“When will that be?” The blonde put her hands on her hips.

Chase frowned, took a deep breath, and raked his fingers through his beard. “I’m not really sure yet.”

“Not sure? When can we post these? You’re Chase Williams! Our friends will never believe us.”

He drew in an exaggerated breath. “It won’t be much longer. If you know anything about me, I’m sure you know I’m dealing with some things right now.”

She arched a brow. “So, what you’re saying is that we might never be able to post these?”

He shook his head. “Not never. I just don’t have a date yet. I’d appreciate you waiting. You can show your friends in person, just not on social media or email or anything like that.”

The girl squared her shoulders. “Give us a date.”

Why was she tempting him to lash out? He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I just need a little time. Grief doesn’t go away based on the calendar.”

The other girl stepped closer to him. “I promise I won’t put this on social media, not until you’re back online, I swear. I’d really appreciate the selfie. I can’t tell you how exciting this is to meet you.” She hesitated, like she wanted to say more.

Chase nodded. “I’d appreciate that. There’s something else you wanted to ask?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it and open it again, then looked away.

“Ask whatever you want.”

She smiled. “Well I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened with—”

Shrieking and exclamations sounded near the door. A group of five girls were running his way. He took the brunette’s phone, held it up, and put his arm around her. “Say cheese!”

Their image appeared on the phone’s screen. The girl smiled, and Chase tried to match her enthusiasm. Grinning, he snapped a few pictures before handing it back to her. “Pleasure meeting you. I have to go!”

He handed her back the phone, ducked behind a large armoire, and made his way outside, managing to avoid everyone.

GET IT FREE FOR A LIMITED TIME:

Amazon

The post He’s looking for his lost love… but she’s in a different time period first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

A deadly cover-up. A haunted house. Returning home might be the last thing she ever does.

It’s after midnight by the time we pull up to the road leading to the long-abandoned house.

The street is exactly as I remember it—well-kept with the enormous homes spread out far from each other. Many are tucked so far back, they can’t be seen from the road.

My family’s house was the first built and is the last on the long street. It’s not hidden from view, but its immense backyard stretches farther than I was allowed to explore as a child.

I pull into the driveway. The structure looms in front of us. Growing up, I rarely had friends over because I was embarrassed by the size.

“It looks haunted,” my niece whispers.

“That’s because it’s dark outside and hasn’t been taken care of. All it needs is some TLC. But we’ll worry about that later. Let’s just get everything inside, then we’ll be free of Richard.” I rub my temples, trying to get rid of the headache that came back after reuniting with him.

“Can’t wait for that.” Ember opens her door.

I dig through my purse for the keychain and stare at the home before getting out. Old memories run through my mind, just as dusty as everything inside must be.

Richard slams his truck’s driver side door. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

He glares at me.

All I want to do is sleep. But that’s going to be a long time coming.

I march up the cracked walkway and try to ignore the overgrown lawn. As I get closer to the house, I notice peeling paint and thick layers of grime. It’s going to take more work than I imagined, and this is just the outside.

The top lock struggles against the key from so many years of disuse. After a few jiggles, it relents and unlocks. Then

I repeat the process with the lock on the knob. It twists, and I open the door. It creaks in protest.

Out of habit, I reach for the light switch. But then I realize this place is probably without power. Doesn’t sound like anyone has been here since my parents lived here.

But the moment I flip the switch, light flickers on. Nearly all the furniture is covered, and the cloth is caked in dust.

The floor is covered with old muddy footprints that will surely be challenging to get off. The large curved staircase in front of us is exactly as I remember it, though dusty, with its polished wood and ornate wooden railing. I remember running my hands over the carvings countless times as a child.

“You can stare later,” Richard snaps. “Help me get your stuff inside.”

Clearly, he’s as eager to be rid of us as we are of him.

Once his truck is empty, he wipes his hands on his pants. “See you at the funeral. Natasha will be in touch with the details.”

“Are you kidding me?” I press the door so he can’t shut it. “You’re going to plan it without Ember? Me? We’re Claire’s blood.”

“And I’m the husband. I’m in charge.” He slams the door, barely giving me time to jump out of the way.

“I hate him,” Ember mutters as he drives away.

“Can’t say I blame you, especially if he’s always like that.” I remote lock the car and put my arm around her. “Let’s get settled. I’ll call Natasha tomorrow and see if she can’t at least let you help with the memorial.”

Ember shrugs.

I guide her inside and close the door behind us. A small plume of dust puffs out.

We make our way up the creaky stairs. I don’t recall them being so noisy. It sends a shiver down my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I silently chastise myself for being so creeped out. It’s the house I grew up in. Nothing more. It just needs some love.

Ember stops, and I nearly run into her.

“You okay?”

She looks around. “Did you hear that?”

I listen, only hearing our breathing. “Hear what?”

“I’m not sure. But it was something.”

“Like I said before, probably rodents. Nobody’s been here in a long time.”

Without a word, we make our way to the second floor.

CONTINUE READING…

THE PERFECT DEATH

A deadly cover-up. A haunted house. Returning home might be the last thing she ever does.

Kenzi Bannon left her painful childhood behind for the glitz and glamour of California. But when her estranged sister commits suicide, she’s forced to return to her abandoned family house. Unexpectedly made guardian to her grieving teenaged niece, Kenzi becomes increasingly convinced her sister’s death was murder.

Devastated by shocking evidence proving Kenzi’s theory, the pair scour the ramshackle house for clues. But when eerie sounds echo through the hallways and the real killer comes after them, she must work fast to unmask the true culprit.

Can Kenzi and her niece get justice for her sister before they follow her into an early grave?

Read today: THE PERFECT DEATH

The post A deadly cover-up. A haunted house. Returning home might be the last thing she ever does. first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

He gave up his daughter years ago, but now he’ll risk his life to save hers.

A girl who looked just like Ariana from behind walked away with a balding man in a jean jacket. She had the same blueish-green colored jacket. The same ponytail, too.

It was Ariana.

“No!” Alex burst into a run, terror seizing him.

What was Ari doing? Hadn’t anyone taught her to stay away from strangers?

“Ariana! Stop!” he called.

The man led her around a corner up ahead. It may as well have been miles away.

“Stop them!” Alex shouted.

No one noticed his yelling. Or the man walking away with Ariana.

His throat closed. He forced his legs to move faster. Everything moved too slowly, except for that man and Ariana.

Alex’s pulse raced, making it hard to breathe. He rounded the same corner they had, but now they were out of sight.They could have gone anywhere—the arcade, the food court, or even outside.

His stomach twisted in tight knots. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

He ran over to the man selling tickets. “Did you see a little girl about this high,”—he held his hand to his side, just below his chest—“with dark brown hair full of sparkles?”

“Maybe.” He played with his goatee. “Not sure.”

Alex ran to the arcade and glanced around. No little girls.

He ran outside. Thankfully the bright overhead lights made it easy enough to scan the parking lot.

There they were.

At the far end of the parking lot, Ariana held up her phone as if showing him something on the screen.

“Ari!” he screamed, his voice cutting his throat. “Ariana!”

Neither seemed to hear him.

He burst into a run, his heart pounding against his ribcage. Alex had to dart around parked cars, but finally he neared them. He could see Ari’s profile—it was definitely her.

“Ariana!” He was so close, yet so far. He continued running.

She turned.

The man wrapped an arm around her.

“Help!” Ari called, fear in her eyes.

The man covered her mouth, hoisted her up, and ran.

Alex’s blood turned cold. “Stop!”

He didn’t. In fact, he ran around the corner of the building.

Alex caught up just in time to see the man stuff Ariana into a black SUV. The man jumped inside and slammed the door shut.

Pulse drumming in his ears, Alex ran faster. He got closer to the vehicle, and closer still.

He reached for the door.

The SUV squealed away just as his hand grasped air rather than the handle.

 Read Girl in Trouble FREE today:
Amazon Apple Kobo Nook Google

He gave up his daughter years ago, but now he’ll risk his life to save hers.

Alex Mercer is no stranger to kidnappings. The emotional scars still run deep from his sister’s disappearance years earlier. His daughter Ariana remains safe long after her adoption, and he cherishes the few times a year he gets to see her. The joy is palpable when he takes her on their first one-on-one outing. At least until he pauses to answer a text and Ariana disappears…

Wracked with guilt and determined to find answers, Alex teams up with an unlikely ally at the police department. As the clues reveal a pattern of missing girls, the kidnapping case becomes a race against time to save Ariana. What cost is Alex willing to pay to keep his daughter alive?

Amazon Apple Kobo Nook Google

The post He gave up his daughter years ago, but now he’ll risk his life to save hers. first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

Two teens break into an abandoned insane asylum. Neither walks out.

Atlas James hesitated at the edge of the property as they crept through the rusty wrought-iron gate. His heart thundered in his chest, both from nerves and excitement. The phone shook in his hand as he captured the video.

Emmett Powell turned around, wide-eyed and grinning, though it was barely visible in the moonlight. “You ready?”

Atlas didn’t want to admit his nerves were getting the best of him. “It’s gonna be awesome.”

“Right? And best of all, we’ll finally be famous. This video is going to go viral for sure. We’d better get going before midnight strikes.” Emmett pushed aside some old vines growing up and protruding from the trees, then opened the second gate—the owners of the insane asylum had been serious about keeping the residents locked inside. It creaked in protest.

“Try to keep up.” Atlas rushed past Emmett down the uneven path. It had probably once been a perfectly-level walkway, but roots and decades had changed that.

Emmett caught up to him. “You think anyone else is here? I mean, it is the anniversary of the slayings.”

As far as Atlas knew, nobody else had ever been brave—or stupid—enough to break into the old building on this date. “I think we’re good.”

“If we don’t get killed, right?” Emmett laughed and whacked Atlas on the back.

“Right.” Atlas aimed his phone at the old asylum.

The large abandoned building loomed before them, partially blocking their view of the moon. It looked more like a mansion than a mental hospital, but rumor had it, that was how it had started… until the original owner went crazy and killed his family and servants. Then his house became a mental hospital after no potential homeowners would buy it.

Emmett held up his phone and aimed it at himself. “Atlas and I are here on the anniversary of the Ichabod slayings. We’re the first to attempt this, and we’re going to try to lure out old Dr. Ichabod himself. Or maybe even the original owner of the building. What you’re about to see is history!”

Atlas glanced over at the building. After having only walked a little way, the moon was now directly over the building.

Emmett continued speaking into the phone as they made their way closer to the towering building. It was even taller and creepier up close.

They both skidded to a stop as they reached the steps leading to the front door. Emmett turned his phone toward the building, giving more narrative before pausing the recording.

Atlas held his breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. If this kept up, it would burst through his chest. The sound echoed in his ears, drowning out everything in the night. Even Emmett’s voice. He turned toward his friend. “What?”

“You ready?”

He studied the building, and a chill ran down his back. Rumors and stories he’d heard since childhood spun through his mind. As much as he wanted a viral video, he hoped they wouldn’t actually run into any murderous spirits. Ghosts didn’t exist, right? With any luck, they’d just find some cool relics and the video would still make them famous. “Yeah, of course. Can’t wait to see what’s in there.”

Emmett marched up the steps like he owned the place.

Atlas swallowed and pulled some of his hair behind his ears.

It was the moment of truth. Everything in him screamed to run away. But he was no chicken. Not only that, they’d planned this for months. He couldn’t let Emmett down. Besides, they might actually go viral. And if they didn’t do this now, they’d have to wait another year for the anniversary of the sanitarium’s closing.

Another year for the anniversary of the massacre at Ichabod Insane Asylum.

Atlas caught up with Emmett. Each step felt like it would break under their weight. None did.

“What are we going to do if it’s locked?” Atlas stared at the enormous door with several deadbolts.

“It’s not.” Emmett spoke with the confidence of experience.

“How do you know? Have you already been here? Did you come here without me?”

“The locks were all broken when that doctor killed everyone, remember? People tried to escape, but nobody made it off the property that day alive. The police broke all the locks to get inside. The sight was so terrifying, several of them passed out.”

Atlas shuddered. What would they find? Old blood stains? Murder weapons?

“Ninety years ago tonight.” A thread of excitement ran through Emmett’s voice. “And we’re here!”

Atlas questioned his sanity, but pushed the thoughts aside. It was just an abandoned building. Ghosts weren’t real. The anniversary was no more significant than any other day.

He hoped.

Emmett reached for the doorknob.

CONTINUE READING…

Read FREE by joining my newsletter. Or purchase at your favorite retailer…

Amazon | Apple | Nook | Google Play | Kobo | Paperback

Two teens break into a long-abandoned insane asylum. But neither walks out.

Atlas James and Emmett Powell are best friends determined to make a name for themselves no matter the cost. They enter the dilapidated mental hospital eager to find a ghost or relic that will become their claim to fame. Instead, they vanish without a clue.

As friends and family learn of their disappearance, fear gives way to accusations and dark secrets come to light. Everyone in the small town has something to hide, and anyone could be behind what happened to the teens.

Somebody knows the truth, but no one’s talking. Will the community push aside their differences and come together for the sake of the missing boys? Or will more lives be destroyed to keep long-buried secrets hidden?

Only a confession will yield answers. But honesty is the one thing in short supply.

Amazon | Apple | Nook | Google Play | Kobo | Paperback

Or read FREE by joining my newsletter.

The post Two teens break into an abandoned insane asylum. Neither walks out. first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

Clean April Showers and Refreshing May Romance

Dozens of romantic reads to fill your e-reader and keep you turning pages for the rest of the spring!

Included in the sale are three of my books:

When Tomorrow Starts Without Me

Seaside Surprises

Seaside Dances

The post Clean April Showers and Refreshing May Romance first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

16 TOP THRILLER AUTHORS

APRIL 15th – APRIL 30th
I’m honored to be a part of this HUGE promo with some of the biggest names in Kindle thrillers.
As a thriller fan, I’m sure you’ll recognize many of the author names and book titles. You’ll find a lot of bestsellers and award-winners in the list. That said, this is the perfect way to sample some of the best of the best.
Be sure to grab your FREE thrillers today.

CHECK THEM OUT TODAY.

The post 16 TOP THRILLER AUTHORS first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

An accidental kiss…

“Want some help?” Amara asked.

“I don’t want to impose.”

Time with Rafael Hunter? “Hand me a rag.”

“You can put your purse down inside first.”

“Okay, thanks.” It threw her off that a guy would think about that, but then again, this one did live for fashion. She went inside, immediately taken in by all the nice clothes displayed.

Amara looked down at her own clothes, which were nowhere near as nice. She felt like that dorky kid again. There was definitely no way her feelings would be reciprocated. She set her plain-Jane purse on an empty table and hurried back outside.

“There are several rags in the bucket,” Rafael said, not looking up from scrubbing.

She stuck her hand in the warm, bubbly water and found one. She squeezed the excess water and then scrubbed the dried egg nearest her. It came off pretty easily.

“How’d you do that?” Rafael asked.

“What?”

“Get it off so quickly. I’ve been out here forever, and I haven’t been able to do that.”

Amara shrugged. “I just scrubbed. Like this.” She moved to the next egg splotch and removed it.

“Wow.”

“It’s nothing.” She didn’t want to say she had plenty of experience cleaning messes. He was the kind of guy who probably hired people to clean for him. Amara had always dreamed of the day she would make enough to get a housekeeper and not have to do so much cleaning herself.

Rafael scrubbed the one he was working on again, but didn’t make any progress.

“Try going at it from an angle like this,” she said, showing him. “And then use some elbow grease.”

He looked down at the cleaning products next to the bucket. “Is that one of the spray bottles?”

Amara held in a laugh. He was adorable. “No. I just mean to really work it. It’s going to take some strength.”

“Oh. I get it.” He appeared embarrassed, but he smiled. His entire face lit up.

Butterflies danced in Amara’s stomach. “It’s just an expression my parents use.”

She went back to work, removing more of the gunk. Rafael still hadn’t gotten the one spot.

He glanced over, catching her stare. “You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What? No. Maybe I can I help you?”

“Sure.” He shrugged.

Amara’s heart raced again. She dropped her rag and put her hand over his-she couldn’t believe how soft it felt. Most women would be jealous. Part of her wanted to ask him for skin care tips. “Oh, gosh,” she said. “Your rag is nearly dry. You have to dip in the soapy water every so often.”

Color filled his cheeks. “Right.” He dipped it in and pulled it out, water streaming down.

“You can wring it out and it won’t do that,” she said.

“You must think I’m pampered.” He twisted the rag and then went back to the spot he’d been working.

“Never. We all have to learn. Believe it or not, I wasn’t born knowing how to clean.” Her pulse felt afire as she put her hand back over his. “Try it at this angle.” She pressed her hand into his, helping him remove the spot. It was hard to focus. She was so aware of how close he was.

In a way, it reminded her of all the times she’d shared a desk with him in school. But even then, they hadn’t been this close. She could smell his cologne and their sides touched.

He didn’t seem at all bothered by it-not that she was bothered by his touch. After the spot was cleaned, he moved over and dipped the rag into the bucket. “Let’s see if I can do this next one on my own.”

“I have faith in you,” she teased.

Rafael gave her a funny look. It appeared to be a mixture of embarrassment and determination. “Thanks.” He scrubbed, removing the egg faster than even she had.

“See?” Amara asked. “I told you. It just takes some muscle, and you obviously have more than I do.” She took the opportunity to look over his muscles and nodded with approval.

Rafael’s lips curved upward and he flexed his muscles, making them bulge even more through his silk shirt.

Amara enjoyed the sight for a moment and then reached back into the bucket and found another rag. “Is that a challenge?” she teased. She squeezed out the excess water and then rubbed a spot on the window.

“Hey!” Rafael laughed and attacked another spot.

They cleaned furiously, laughing the whole time. Just before they were done, Amara splashed some suds on Rafael’s face, careful to avoid his nice shirt.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, his eyes gleaming. He scooped up a handful of bubbles and held them up, his eyes narrowing but his mouth grinning devilishly.

Amara’s mouth dropped open. She squealed and ducked just Rafael threw the suds. They splashed onto the door behind her. Amara glanced back and laughed. She turned, and just as she made eye contact with Rafael a big glob of foam splashed onto her whole face.

She froze, surprised.

“Oh, no,” Rafael said. “I’m so sorry.” But he was laughing. It was a beautiful sound.

Amara laughed, too. “It’s okay.” She wiped some of the bubbles off, flinging them onto the ground. Luckily none had gotten into her eyes, or that would have been trouble for her contacts.

“Let me help you with that.” Rafael stepped closer and wiped more of the suds from her eyes to her jawline. His hands lingered near her cheeks, almost cupping her face.

Amara’s breath caught and they stared into each other’s eyes. Swallowing, she reached up and wiped some soap from his stubble.

Neither spoke, and Amara’s heart pounded so loudly she thought it would explode out of her chest.

Rafael leaned closer-so close she could smell mint on his breath. Her eyes widened, her skin on fire. He paused, still staring into her eyes.

Amara’s hand slid on his face, scratching against the start of his five o’clock shadow. He moved his hands down and cupped her chin, brushing his lips against hers. His lips were soft, his kiss gentle. She smelled hints of ginger and sandalwood on his skin.

Amara breathed deeply, finally overcoming the shock. She prepared herself to return the kiss.

Rafael pulled away, his eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, Amara. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“I wasn’t thinking. That was really rude. I don’t want you to think I’m the kind of guy who forces myself on people like that.”

“I… I don’t think-“

“I need to put these supplies away. I’m supposed to meet someone.”

Realization washed over her that he regretted kissing her. Amara took a deep breath and stood tall, trying to cover her embarrassment.

“Accidents happen. I’ll see you around.”

“Uh, thanks for helping me clean the window. It was… fun.”

Fun. Right. Amara nodded. “Glad to help.” She ran inside, grabbed her ugly purse, and hurried past him before she could further humiliate herself.

CONTINUE READING…

Kindle | Apple | Kobo | Nook | Google

People change, but some feelings last forever.

Rafael Hunter never thought he’d return to Kittle Falls, but life gave him no other choice. Los Angeles chewed him up, spit him out, and sent him back to square one.

Amara Fowler has lived in the small beach town her entire life. She’s overcome her shyness to grow into the woman she always knew she could be, but she never forgot her secret crush. When the alluring Rafael returns, he can’t help but stir in her a whirlwind of old feelings.

They’ve both changed so much. Has life kept them incompatible or has it molded them into a matching set?

Kindle | Apple | Kobo | Nook | Google

The post An accidental kiss… first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

Family comes first. Until it kills you…

Rusty reached for the doorbell, but stopped when he heard a commotion across the street. He backed up and glanced down a couple houses. A lady stood with her arms folded, staring at two other ladies storming off.

He went to the sidewalk. “Is everything okay?”

The lady turned to him and shook her head. “Never cross the Calloways.”

Rusty tilted his head. “Who?”

She threw her arms in the air. “Be glad you don’t know.” She climbed into a car and sped off, peeling the tires.

“Okay…” Rusty went back to his sister’s door.

Yelling sounded from inside. It sounded like his brother-in-law. Rusty recognized his voice from the phone. His stomach twisted in knots. Maybe this trip was a bad idea. He rang the doorbell, anyway.

“Coming,” called Chris, sounding far less angry than a moment earlier.

The door opened, and a man with short, dark hair and dark eyes answered. He had a five o’clock shadow and dark circles underneath his deep brown eyes. “Rusty?”

He nodded and held out his hand.

Chris shook it. “Come on in. The police want me to come back down to the station. Do you mind staying with the kids?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“You’re a lifesaver. This last week has been a nightmare.” Chris turned around and led Rusty up the stairs. He went left, and gestured toward a gray sectional couch with stuffing coming out of the armrests.

A girl, about thirteen, with hair as dark as his sat with her eyes closed, dancing in her seat to music only she could hear in the earbuds. A boy, about eleven, with light brown hair hanging over his ears had his full attention on the television. They both had the same dark bands under their eyes as their dad—the very ones Rusty was so familiar with, too.

“That’s Kaylie. And that’s Brady.”

Neither glanced up.

“Kids!”

Kaylie pulled her earbuds out and Brady paused the show. They both turned to Chris, their eyes bloodshot.

“This is your Uncle Rusty. He’s going to watch you guys while I’m out.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Kaylie said.

“Me, neither,” Brady said.

“I’m not here to babysit,” Rusty assured them. “Just here in case you need something. Lunch, maybe?”

“Grilled cheese,” Brady said and turned his show back on.

“I apologize for their manners.” Chris turned to them. “Kids, be nice.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kaylie stuck her earbuds back in and closed her eyes.

“Sorry to run,” Chris said. “But make yourself at home. Thanks again.”

“No problem.” Rusty set his suitcase next to the couch on the brown shag carpet.

Chris hurried down the stairs, and neither kid seemed to notice. He stopped near the front door and his phone sounded. Chris’s face clouded over as he glanced at the screen. He swore about a text.

“Is everything all right?” Rusty asked.

“What?” Chris looked at him, his face noticeably paler.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s the CEO of my work. He’s… I need to get the cops off my back so I can get back to work.”

“Doesn’t your boss understand you’ve lost your wife? You need time to recover and—”

“The only thing Travis Calloway cares about is the bottom line.”

Calloway? Wasn’t that the same name the neighbor had said outside?

Chris cracked his knuckles. “What I wouldn’t give for just one drink.”

“You don’t want to do that. You’ve been clean for years, haven’t you?”

His expression pinched. “Yes, I’m the one who helped Mandy get clean. I’m not going to drink. I just want one sometimes, you know? If my idiot boss and the cops would get a clue, I’d be fine.”

Rusty leaned against the cracked banister. “Surely, your boss can understand the need to—”

Chris’s phone rang. He swore and answered it. “I’m doing the best I can, Ricardo. The cops have it out for me. They won’t leave me alone.” He paused. “I can’t tell the police to wait! You’re going to have to tell Travis I’ll work nights or something. My wife just died.”

Rusty turned toward the kids and watched them, trying not to eavesdrop on Chris.

“Look, Ricardo, I can’t afford to lose this job, but I can’t tell the cops to take a hike, either. They want me down at the station now. The longer you keep me on the phone, the longer it’s going to be until I can get back to work… You can’t do that me! I have vacation days.” Chris let loose a string of profanities and put his phone away.

Rusty turned back to him. “Can I help with anything?”

Chris stared at him, his face reddening. “I hate that pompous jerk.” He picked up a potted flower and threw it against the wall. It shattered, sending soil in all directions.

CONTINUE READING…

Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Google | Nook

Family comes first. Until it kills you…

Rusty Caldwell is a lonely victim of tragedy. After losing his wife and kids to a drunk driver, he spends most nights towing drunks to keep them off the streets. His one-track existence takes a turn when he finds out his estranged sister Mandy has committed suicide.

After flying out to offer his support, Rusty learns there’s much more to the story. It turns out his sister had been cheating on her husband Chris with Travis Calloway, the rich CEO of the biggest company in town. Before Mandy died, she claimed that Travis fathered one of her children and demanded that he pay up…

While Rusty is trying to figure out the truth, Mandy’s friend Laura offers to help look into Travis. Sparks start to fly between her and Rusty, and soon neither can deny the attraction. Before they can catch a break, they receive death threats for their efforts.

With Travis and Chris both looking guilty, Rusty better find out the truth before he or Laura are the next one to fall.

Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Google | Nook

The post Family comes first. Until it kills you… first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

She’s hiding a dark secret. It already killed her once.

“Attention, please,” Professor Foley said and turned around.

Grace snapped her attention toward the front. I followed suit.

“Welcome,” he continued.

I studied his profile. There was something familiar about him.

My heart raced at the thought.

He continued speaking, focused on the other side of the group. I couldn’t understand a word he said. The longer I stared at him, the more convinced I became that somehow I knew him. Or at least had seen him somewhere.

His hair was dark and thick, his skin tanned to perfection. He had stunning features and a gorgeous profile. It was hard to believe he was old enough to be a professor. He was younger by far than all the others I’d seen. A magazine cover would have been a more fitting place for him.

Professor Foley turned toward my side of the group. “And be sure to ask questions. That’s what we’re here…” His voice trailed off as our gazes met. His face paled and his eyes widened. His expression held something. Horror? Shock? Whatever it was, he continued staring at me.

I was frozen in place. My heart thundered in my chest, threatening to break through my ribcage. I knew him. Without a doubt, we had spent time together. I just couldn’t remember any of it. My palms had grazed that stubble and my eyes had stared into those deep blue eyes. Even with the distance, I recalled that he often smelled of woodsy aftershave and soap.

Those around me whispered, bringing me back to the present.

Professor Foley cleared his throat and glanced around at the other students. “Excuse me. As I was saying, the faculty is here to help you. Just don’t wait until the final hour.”

“What was that?” Grace whispered.

My mouth gaped and I shook my head.

“You know him or something?”

“Shh,” I snapped.

“Sorry.” She scooted away.

My hands shook. I sat on them to get them to stop.

Foley stopped talking, and everyone paired off. Grace glanced at me, her expression pensive.

I nodded and tried to push the instructor out of my mind. But how could I? He was my only clue to my past. Part of me longed to run around the other students and throw my arms around him.

Grace came over. “I wasn’t trying to bother you before.”

“I know. Sorry. What are we supposed to do?”

“We’re supposed to discuss…”

My gaze wandered back over to Professor Foley. He was speaking to a couple students and smiling. My chest constricted. Oh, that smile. It had taken my breath away countless times, though I couldn’t remember a single one of them.

CONTINUE READING…

Amazon | Apple | Nook | Kobo | Google Play | Audio | Others

She’s hiding a dark secret. It already killed her once.

Victoria can’t wait to start college, but there’s a hitch—she can’t remember anything before arriving on campus. Her memories spark when she sees her ruggedly handsome math professor, but she senses something horrific. The shock on his face affirms her fears.

Toby is an alpha wolf who never thought he’d see his true love again—not after she died in his arms. Nothing could have prepared him for her walking into his class. But to his dismay, not only has she forgotten what happened, she doesn’t even know who she is.

He’s determined to do whatever it takes to restore what they’ve lost. Can Toby help Victoria recover her memories, or will he lose her forever?

Amazon | Apple | Nook | Kobo | Google Play | Audio | Others

The post She’s hiding a dark secret. It already killed her once. first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.

A dangerous cult disbanded years ago. Now they’re back—and they want revenge.

The large dilapidated building loomed in front of Lottie Mills as she hefted the bags into her arms and lumbered up the cracked walkway. Glowing rays from the setting sun behind her made it seem even more ominous than usual. She carefully avoided the raised areas in the cement where tree roots had long ago destroyed the path. A faded sign welcoming her to the Meriwether complex had profanities spray-painted across it and the scent of marijuana hung in the air. Shouts of an argument came from an open window inside the old apartment building. A baby cried somewhere. Glass shattered not far away.

Lottie picked up her pace and pushed open the chipped, muddy glass door. She passed the long-broken elevator and hurried up two flights of stairs, stepping over a young man who passed out just before the second level. The hallway on the third level reeked of dirty diapers. She made her way to unit three-thirty-two. The two hung upside down, as always. Lottie knocked with her elbow, not wanting to set the bags of food on the ground.

Shrieks from excited children sounded from inside the apartment. The door opened, and Sydney Kelly appeared with a frazzled smile. The dark circles under her eyes had gotten worse, and she had what looked like a bruise on her cheek underneath makeup. The younger woman pulled some light brown hair behind her ear and adjusted the toddler on her hip. “Thank you for bringing the groceries.”

Lottie stepped inside and set the bags on the table between fast food wrappers and some half-eaten candy. “It’s not much, but I hope it helps.”

Sydney put the child on a chair. “It always does. Thanks again. I wish I could do something to repay you.”

Lottie glanced at the makeup-covered bruise. “You could let me help you with that.”

“I can’t. I need him.”

A boy and a girl ran into the room and chased each other around the adults.

Lottie smiled at them and turned back to their mom. “Someday when you’re able, help out someone else in need.”

“I can’t see that day ever coming, but okay.”

“I’d stay and help with dinner, but I have some more food to deliver.”

Sydney sighed. “How is it you’re the only one who’s made anything of your life since—” She glanced at the kids playing happily. “—well, you know?”

“I’m not the only one.” Lottie thought of her son and daughter-in-law, who were doing even better than she was. “But I’m glad to help if you want to look for a better job.”

“I’m not sure Joey would…” Her voice trailed off for a moment and her hand rested on the bruised cheek. “I should get this food put away. Thanks again.”

“Always glad to help.”

Sydney grabbed a bag. “Come on, Trula, help me out.”

“Aw, do I have to? I…” The girl trailed off after looking at her mother’s face and picked up a bag to carry.

Lottie waved and headed out, closing the door behind her. In the hall, she was hit with the stench of dirty diapers again. She held her breath, hurried down the stairs and out the building, and gulped in the air outside. It wasn’t much better with the weed smoke drifting from somewhere. Yelling sounded from inside.

Hurrying, Lottie made her way to her little sedan across the street. She drove just a few blocks before stopping again to hand out some more food. Her stomach growled since she’d yet to have her own dinner.

“Just a few more minutes.” Lottie patted her belly and then pulled her messy, graying golden-copper hair into a loose bun. She topped it with an old, stained sun hat. There were many ogling eyes where she was going, and far too often her locks garnered her unwanted attention. It was best to get in and out as quickly as she could.

She got out, pulled some more plastic grocery bags from the trunk, and headed down the alleyway between two abandoned shops, now overrun with squatters. Once she reached the alley, the odors of alcohol and urine made her gag.

It saddened her that these people had to live like that. If only she could do more, but she already gave them more than she should. She was fortunate that her son and daughter-in-law were so generous with her, or she could never afford to help Sydney or any of the others.

Lottie stepped over a puddle of she-didn’t-want-to-know-what, since it hadn’t rained recently.

Laughter roared down an alley to her right. A scuffle sounded on the left. She took a deep breath and quickened her pace. As nervous as some of the homeless made her, they weren’t the ones she truly feared. Wherever Lottie went, even in her safe little backyard, she watched for them. She would never stop.

Finally, she made it to the old department store, where some of the families lived. It hurt her heart that children lived here. Some people had suggested she report them to family services, but tearing those precious little ones from their loving parents would shatter her heart to pieces.

Once inside, Lottie headed for the back of the building, smiling at all the children who crossed her path. She slid them packs of fruit snacks until she had no more.

“Thanks, Miss Lottie.” The little girl in loose, dirty pigtails who’d gotten the last pack smiled at her. She showed off a gap in her front teeth.

“Did you lose another tooth, Reyna?”

She nodded, but her smiled faded. “I wish the tooth fairy came here.”

Lottie set down a bag, dug into her jeans’ pocket, and pulled out a quarter. “I found this outside.

Maybe she dropped it on the way in here.”

Reyna’s eyes widened. “You think so?”

“I do.” Lottie put the quarter in the girl’s palm and picked up the grocery bag. “Don’t lose that.”

The little girl rubbed it between her thumb and first finger. “I won’t!” She scampered away, giggling.

Lottie stepped over a broken, grimy mannequin and made her way to the back where the three families she visited weekly lived. She gave each family one overstuffed bag, made some small talk, and rushed outside, eager to get to her clean, safe home before her own groceries went bad in the trunk.

Just before she came to the street, a man holding a half-empty booze bottle stepped out in front of her. He smiled, showing more missing teeth than little Reyna.

“Excuse me.” Lottie stepped to the side, careful not to make eye contact.

He moved in front of her again. “Up for a good time?”

She glared at him. “My burly son is expecting to hear from me. If he doesn’t, he’s coming right here to find me.”

The man held her gaze for a moment, but then stepped to the side.

Lottie hurried out to the street and breathed a sigh of relief. Her car was only a block away. She turned toward it, and a stocky, dark-haired, bearded man just taller than she was stepped out from behind a faded blue van.

Her blood ran cold. “I-I thought you were in jail.”

“I was. Thanks to you and your brat.”

She struggled to breathe normally. Her car wasn’t far. She needed to make a run for it.

The man stepped closer. Two more jumped out from behind the vehicle.

Lottie recognized them, also. She spun around and bolted away from them and her car. Multiple hands grabbed onto her, squeezing. She screamed. A large palm covered her mouth and nails dug into her cheeks and under her jaw. They dragged her toward the van and opened its side door.

The men shoved her inside. A rough, unfinished box resembling a coffin sat open on the floor. She fought harder, but they forced her inside. Someone hit her on the head. The lid came down over her, shrouding her in darkness.

She yelled and pushed on the lid with all her strength, using her hands and feet.

A lock clicked into place.

CONTINUE READING…

Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Nook | Google

A dangerous cult disbanded years ago. Now they’re back, and they want revenge.

Alex Mercer spends his spare time operating a blog for missing children—a pastime inspired by his daughter’s recent disappearance. Another relative goes missing. As he follows up on leads coming into his site, the police department is inundated with a rash of missing persons cases. The incidents seem unrelated until evidence ties the cases to a dilapidated apartment building known for its unsavory clientele. Suspicion falls on a disbanded cult. The same cult Alex’s own relatives had managed to escape from and bring down a decade earlier.

The cult leaders, recently released or escaped from prison, reassemble their members and mandate a new mission to capture and kill all those responsible for the breakdown of their community. After another loved one disappears, Alex is ready to rescue the missing people from certain death. But will he get there in time?

Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Nook | Google

The post A dangerous cult disbanded years ago. Now they’re back—and they want revenge. first appeared on Stacy Claflin, Author.