Angel Sefer's Blog, page 31

Excerpt from Mystery, Thriller, and Suspense Romance Dark Shadows of the Past - Chapter Two, Part Three

Read Chapter One, Part One here...
Read Chapter One, Part Two here...
Read Chapter One, Part Three here...
Read Chapter Two, Part One here...
Read Chapter Two, Part Two here...
For two days, Christina stayed in her room and saw nobody except only when it was mealtime. However, the young maid never came again. An older woman with very strict manners brought her food. After a couple tries, Christina realized she wasn’t going to get a word out of that woman and finally gave up.Christina spent most of her time looking out the window, trying to figure out where she was or to see what was going on. Her room, however, was in the back of the house and even if people were coming and going, she wouldn’t know. The only ones she saw in the garden were the two guards who had carried her upstairs. They walked around, sometimes alone, and sometimes followed by the dogs. No other living soul was anywhere to be found. Noises could be heard from downstairs and footsteps on the staircase and the hallway. Sometimes, even doors could be heard opening and shutting on her floor, and mumbled voices, but that was it. She didn’t know any more now than the first day in that house.They are sure I won’t be able to escape with those dogs out there. That’s probably why they don’t lock me up. But still, I have to do something… I can try to have a look around the house and figure out what’s going on and who these people are. Maybe I can even find a phone and call the police. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea and decided to wait until late that night and then try it. The rest of the day went by unbearably slow with Christina pacing back and forth in her room, anxiously waiting for nightfall.At some point, she went into the closet to pick a fresh set of clothes. After all these days cooped up in there, she was in dire need of a shower. Besides, the hot water would help relax her tangled nerves. Taking the clothes, she walked to the bathroom and locking the door behind her, she took a quick shower. Then she was ready for her nocturnal adventure.
***
Christina glanced at the clock on the bedside table. One-thirty in the morning and I haven’t heard any noise for a couple of hours. They must be asleep by now. Of course, she was sure that the guards were still out there. However, she wasn’t planning on going outside the house, at least not until she had figured out a way to avoid another encounter with the dogs. So she quietly opened the door and checked up and down the hallway. Seeing nobody, she stepped outside her room. Trying to be as careful as possible, since the wood floor of the hallway made squeaking noises every now and then, she checked the rooms on her floor first. They were all bedrooms like hers; only they were empty. To her disappointment, she found no phone in any of them.When she reached the end of the hallway toward the huge bay window, she stopped dead in her tracks. A soft beeping noise came from this room—the only one she hadn’t checked yet. She stood outside and waited with her ear on the door. Nothing else could be heard, but that noise. Trying the door, it opened with a soft squeak, and Christina held her breath. After a few agonizing moments of silence, she pushed the door wide open and walked inside the room.The curtains were pulled back, and in the moonlight sneaking inside from the window, she could see a comfortable bedroom like hers. Only this one held a lot of medical equipment, like a hospital room. Someone was on the bed, connected to the machine making the beeping noise.A shiver caressed her spine as she moved closer to take a better look at the person lying there. It was a man around sixty years old who seemed very ill. Glancing around, she noticed some bottles with pills on the dresser but in the dim moonlight, she couldn’t read the patient’s name. Trying to find out who he was, she checked the drawers of the bedside table but they were empty. Approaching the dresser, she searched through its drawers. They were packed with underwear, socks, and sweaters, but that was it.Then she stepped inside the walk-in closet. It was dark, but she couldn’t risk turning the light on. Searching in the dark, her hands came across a metal box. Picking it up, she brought it to the bedroom, where there was more light from the window. She opened it and started searching its contents—some papers, a few USB sticks, and a notebook. I’ll take the notebook to my room, she decided, read it, and then bring it back.Going back to the closet to put the box in its place, she heard footsteps and the door to the bedroom opening. She hid in the back of the closet, holding her breath. From the open door of the closet, she saw a nurse passing by. The woman stayed in the room for a few minutes, checking on the patient, and then left, closing the door behind her. Christina waited until she heard the footsteps disappearing down the hall, and then she carefully made her way back to her room, holding the notebook and trying to keep as quiet as possible.She kept all the lights out and held her breath when she heard footsteps in the hallway. Whoever it was, he came and stood outside her door for a minute before leaving again. Christina waited motionless for a few minutes and then sat on the bed. She turned the lamp on the bedside table on and glanced at the black notebook in her hands.She hesitated briefly but then opened it and started going through the pages. Lists of names, many familiar to her, filled each sheet. Well-known attorneys, politicians, and prominent business people were notated beside dates and locations. From Oliver Maxwell—a tycoon who owned a number of businesses, including a television station and a football team—to William Beavers. Next to the attorney’s name were dates, including the day before his murder. The name Madison and the initials P.C. were also written down. Christina flipped through the rest of the book quickly, but nothing about it made any sense.In case she escaped, she decided to keep it to give it to the detective working her case. Nowhere stood out as a good place to hide it, so she slipped it in a shoebox at the bottom of a pile. Reentering the bedroom, she checked the time.Feeling physically and emotionally drained, and her courage leaving her, she debated crawling under the covers. No! I can’t do that. I have to find out what’s going on and, somehow, find a way to escape.Going to the door, she opened it carefully, walked to the staircase and down the steps to the foyer. For a moment, she hesitated, staring at the front door, wishfully. Then again, the growling of the Dobermans still echoed in her ears. Scanning her surroundings, she saw two corridors leading away from the foyer.Staring down one of them, she saw a light on inside a room at the end. She stepped toward it, silent like a ghost. Peeking from the door, she felt a flutter of chills ripple up her spine as she recognized the guy who had found her in the yard. He was sitting behind a desk going through some paperwork. With her heart thundering in her chest, she turned on her heel and headed the other way.Walking through the foyer again and down the other corridor, she passed by a living room and a dining room and came to the kitchen. The lights were on, and three men were sitting at the table, drinking whiskey and playing cards. She tiptoed past the door and stood outside another one at the end of the corridor where she could see a dim light from underneath. Holding her breath, just in case she heard any noise, she tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, and turning it, she pushed the door open and saw steps leading downstairs. It leads to the basement, she realized.She started descending the narrow staircase, closing the door behind her. Her throat tightened as no matter how hard she tried the wooden steps squeaked every now and then. However, the men in the kitchen were either too busy or too drunk to pay any attention because nobody came. Coming around a corner, she scanned her surroundings and after verifying that there was nobody down there, she climbed down the remaining steps.The basement was filled up with crates—big crates piled everywhere. Christina walked closer and read the words Madison and Charleston, S.C. on them. So the crates were from South Carolina, but what about Madison? When she had first read the word in the notebook, she thought it was a name. Now she decided it must be a company.What’s in those crates? she wondered curiously. She tried one of them, but the tops were nailed on. Itching to open one of them, she hesitated for a moment, looking around. Finding a pile of tools in a corner, she glanced at a crowbar. That’s probably the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. Realizing that she would never be able to pry one of them open without being heard, she gave up that idea.I better get back upstairs before anyone finds out I’m not in my room. Taking a last glance around, she noticed some bottles and boxes on a shelf. Approaching carefully, she read the label on one of the boxes—rat poison. Her breath caught in her throat. No, she contemplated. I couldn’t possibly do that. I have to find another way to get out of here, avoiding the dogs. She stood there hesitating. I’m probably going to be sorry but no, I can’t do it, she decided and walked away.Approaching the staircase, she got a glimpse of a crate in the far corner with the top positioned sideways. Someone has left it open, she thought excited. Her pulse accelerated as she stepped closer. Careful, not to move the top at all and cause any noise, she took a peek inside. Coffee grounds! The crate was filled with coffee grounds. What on earth is going on here? Puzzled, she glanced at the crates around her. Are they all filled up with coffee grounds, as well?A squeaking noise from upstairs turned her blood to ice. I need to get back! Breathlessly, she climbed the staircase.Reaching the ground floor, she carefully inched toward the kitchen, as she could hear muffled voices and moaning. What now? Approaching the kitchen, she took a peek from the halfway opened door. Her breath caught in her throat… The three bullies she had seen before were pushing around the young maid—half naked, and all bruised up—kissing her and slapping her at the same time. The girl was in an awful shape, and blood was dripping from her lips. A jolt of fear shot right through Christina as she saw the crazy look in their drunken eyes.“Fuck that bitch!” one of them—a short, bulky man—said in a harsh but low voice, and grabbing the maid by the hair, he slammed her head on the table.Christina blinked in disbelief and bit her lower lip to prevent from screaming as the girl’s nose broke, and blood splattered all over the table.“I’ll go first,” one of the other two—a filthy looking one—said and unzipped his pants.Christina swallowed hard, unable to move. She felt her temper rising, desperately trying to figure out a way to help the girl. What can I do? Think, Christina, think!“I have a better idea,” the third bully said. “Why don’t we drag her upstairs to the other bitch’s room and have our way with both of them?”Christina went in a state of shock, realizing they were talking about her.“Sounds good to me,” the short one said. “Then again…the boss said to stay away from her…at least for now,” he added.Christina felt as if she was choking. Frantically, she rushed toward the foyer, looking for something to distract the mobsters, giving the maid a chance to escape. Of course, she risked getting caught again but she couldn’t just walk away.Arriving at the foyer, she noticed the crystal vase on the round table in the middle of the room. Without a second thought, she picked it up, slammed it against the wall, and took off, climbing two steps at a time as all hell broke loose downstairs.Only after she was back in her bedroom did she let her breath out. She sat on the bed, shaking. Her mouth was dry and her hands cold and damp. Would this nightmare ever end?“What the hell is going on here?” A harsh voice barked.Jumbled voices mixed with loud noises and female screams kept Christina immobilized.“You drunken fools!” The same voice yelled while Christina heard loud footsteps running downstairs. “Take those idiots to the basement and leave them to sleep it off. I’ll deal with them in the morning.”Loud noises and the slamming of a door followed his command. And then, nothing… Silence stretched inside the mansion.Now what? Christina wondered, staring at the door. Would anyone come for her or did they think that one of the drunken bullies broke the vase? And what about the maid? Did she have enough time to escape? I sure hope so.
She curled up in her bed, with her back against the headboard, staring at the door, exhausted and terrified of what was coming next.

I’ll be posting a new section every Tuesday and Friday. The novel will be published in June 2015.

Read the blurb here

Excerpt from Mystery, Thriller, and Suspense Romance Dark Shadows of the Past - Chapter Two, Part Two

At the police station, Dan paced back and forth, clenching his fists. They hadn’t been able to find any trace of Christina, despite turning the hospital upside down.The girl was in grave danger… He could feel it in his gut and was furious he couldn’t help her.He could still see her staring at him with those beautiful, emerald eyes, begging him to help her. And what did he do? He let her down. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.He had spent all night looking for her and all morning going over the evidence, trying to make some sense out of all this. He had policemen questioning staff and visitors at the hospital, trying to find someone who knew or had seen something.A doctor reported a black Land Rover SUV leaving the hospital around two-thirty in the morning. The SUV sped like a bat out of hell and almost hit his car as he was pulling into the hospital parking lot. He told the police that there were three or four people in the vehicle, but he could only be sure about the two men sitting in the front. He stopped his car, but the other one kept on going and quickly disappeared down the street.Nobody else seemed to have noticed anything. It was as if the girl had vanished into thin air.“Damn!” Dan cursed out loud and slammed his fist on the top of his desk. I’ll be damned if I don’t find her before it’s too late.“Emily Lawrence is here to see you.” The voice of his partner, Detective Miles, startled him back to reality.Dan glanced toward the door where Emily stood in a dark green velvet suit and a cream silk blouse, arrogantly surveying the room.Dan let out a deep breath. That’s all I need right now, he thought, angrily.“Good morning, Detective,” Emily said in a cocky way. Tall and slim, with silky black hair down to her shoulders and cunning green eyes, she walked toward his desk with the air of a woman who knew men admired her. Sitting down at one of the two chairs in front of his desk, she crossed her beautiful legs.Miles winked at Dan from across the room while Dan sank in the armchair behind his desk.“What can I do for you?” he inquired, using a cold, professional tone. Remembering their first encounter the day before, he couldn’t say he liked Emily very much. Something about this woman bothered him. She was beautiful all right, but also cold and arrogant. He couldn’t help but think of Christina’s sweet face. He didn’t know her; he had hardly spoken to her. But he could tell she was quite different to this woman. He peered at Emily closely. I’ll be surprised if she’s telling the truth about being close friends with Christina.“I’m very worried about Chris, Detective,” the woman said in a soft, caressing voice.Is it my imagination, Dan wondered, that I don’t hear any note of concern? Her tone of voice sounded seductive, not worried. “I can understand that,” he said out loud, studying her face, trying to figure the woman out.“Have you found her yet?” Emily asked, peering at him closely.“No, not yet. But we will soon!” he replied, trying to sound as confident as he could. Was it an expression of disbelief that he read on her face?“Have you thought of anything that might be of help?” he asked carefully.“As a matter of fact, I have,” she said. “I remembered the name of the guy that Christina was supposed to meet. His name is Peter Collins. He’s a low-life art dealer or something like that, from the south side. I’d told her to stay away from him. He’s no good for her. I’d told her a million times…” she added and shook her head disapprovingly.Dan wrote the name down on his notepad.“You should check on that, Detective!” Emily said. “Maybe he got Chris in trouble, and after she’d realized what had happened, she left the hospital on her own in order not to be arrested.”Highly unlikely, especially considering that she insisted on seeing me a few minutes earlier. However, he kept his thoughts to himself.“I’ll check on it. Do you happen to know where I can find this Collins guy?” he asked.“I’m not sure where his shop is,” Emily replied. “However, I do know that he often goes to a bar downtown on Peachtree Street.”Dan noted down the information again. Funny! She claimed no knowledge of where Collins’s shop was, but she knew where he hung out. I better run a check on Emily Lawrence, he decided and sprung to his feet to let her know the conversation was over.Emily uncrossed her pretty legs slowly and rose unwillingly, looking at him straight in the eyes.“If you need anything else, Detective, anythingat all, don’t hesitate to call.”“Thank you, Miss Lawrence,” Dan replied, in a cold, professional tone of voice.After Emily had left, Dan let out a deep breath, feeling relieved. She’s poison. He always trusted his instinct, and that was what it told him now about Emily Lawrence.Glancing at his notepad, he picked up the phone to have someone check on this Collins character. After hanging up, he grabbed his jacket and left, needing some fresh air and something to eat. He hadn’t slept in days and had nothing to eat since yesterday afternoon.I have to start taking better care of myself. This job is getting to me.He walked to the deli down the street and ordered a sandwich with chips and some coffee. The place was filled up with cops. Some of his colleagues invited him to their table, but he refused politely and sat by the window, lost in his thoughts.“Guess what?” Miles said, standing over him.“What?” Dan jumped, surprised. He was so involved in his thoughts that he hadn’t seen Miles coming in.“We found Collins!” Miles said.“Is that so? Where?” Dan asked anxiously.“Our friend has a rap sheet a mile long!” Miles continued. “He has three prior arrests and one conviction for dealing in stolen goods.”“Do we have an address?” Dan inquired.“We sure do!” Miles responded. “Wilson and Carson are already on their way there.”“Let’s go!” Dan said and sprung to his feet, leaving his sandwich untouched. He rushed outside with Miles following right behind him.They climbed into their unmarked police car and headed toward Peachtree Industrial Apartments. Turning into the entrance, they cruised slowly down the street, checking the numbers on the apartment buildings. Apartment 12B was toward the end of the street. They passed the building Collins was living in, scanning the area, and spotted Detective Wilson’s car a little bit farther down. They turned around and stopped up the street, where they could watch the entrance to the building. A brown, beat-up Oldsmobile was parked right in the front.A couple minutes later, a short guy wearing blue jeans and a filthy gray shirt came out of the building, carrying a small suitcase.“That’s him,” Miles murmured.They watched closely as Collins opened the trunk of the car, threw the suitcase in, and slammed it close. He took a quick look around and rushed back inside, reappearing in a few minutes with a big paper box that he also put in the trunk. Closing it, he hesitated for a moment, carefully scanning his surroundings. Spotting Dan’s unmarked police car, he seemed agitated. He rushed around his car, jumped inside, and turned the engine on.Dan started his car and took a quick turn, blocking the street, while Wilson did the same on the other side.As soon as Collins saw he was trapped, he abandoned the car and launched for the woods behind the apartment building. Dan and Miles jumped out of their car, pulling out their guns.“Police! Stop!” Dan yelled, but Collins was already gone. The two detectives chased after him while Wilson drove down the street alongside the woods.Dan caught up with Collins, a little bit farther down. He jumped on top of him from behind and threw him to the ground. Within seconds, Miles was standing over them, pointing his gun at Collins. Dan jumped up and dragged Collins to his feet and back to his car. He pushed him against the police car and cuffed him.Miles was keeping an eye on Collins while Dan went over to the Oldsmobile. Opening the trunk, he checked its contents.“You guys go upstairs and check the apartment!” Dan yelled at Wilson and Carson, who had just pulled up and parked their car next to his.“Going on a trip?” Miles asked Collins, sarcastically.“What do you want? I haven’t done anything wrong!” Collins yelled.“Is that so?” Miles inquired, acting surprised. “So why did you run as soon as you saw us?”“I was scared,” Collins mumbled.“Scared of what? Us?” Miles continued. “Why would a law-abiding citizen be scared of the police?” he asked, innocently.“My! My!” Dan yelled from the back of Collins’s car and walking around the car, he showed Miles a gun that was inside a small metal box. “What have we got here?” he asked Collins.Seemingly shocked, Collins swallowed hard, glancing from one policeman to the other to the gun. Dan for a moment thought that his surprise was genuine. He’s good. I almost believed him.“What do you have to say about this?” Dan asked Collins.“I know nothing about this,” Collins replied. “That’s not mine.”“Really?” Dan said, pretending to be surprised. “Then how did it end up in the trunk of your car?”“I have no idea,” Collins insisted and glanced around him, worried. “Someone must have put it there.”“Someone? Who?” Dan asked him. “Who would put a gun in your trunk and why?”“I don’t know,” Collins said and peered at the gun, again.“That’s enough! Let’s go!” Miles said, shoving Collins into the back seat of their car.Dan went upstairs to talk to the other detectives, who were checking Collins’s apartment.He came back outside a few minutes later, climbed in the car with Miles, and drove Collins to the police department.As soon as they arrived there, Dan jumped out of the car and pulled Collins out and into the police station.“Book him and send the gun to Forensics!” he yelled at Miles over his shoulder, dragging Collins to the interrogation rooms in the back to question him.
***
Scared and desperate, Christina lay in bed for a long time. At some point, someone came in and set something down on the table by the window but she kept her eyes shut. She didn’t want anything; she just wanted the nightmare to end. Who were these people holding her here, and what did they want from her? Once more, she wondered about Johnny. What had happened to him? Was he still alive or had these people killed him, like the man whose body was found near her in the alley? The same people she had seen in Johnny’s apartment probably killed the attorney. Or was someone else involved, also?A roaring headache made things ever worse for her. It might help if I throw some water on my face. As soon as she rose up, though, she felt dizzy and had to sit for a few minutes at the edge of the bed to steady herself. Feeling weak, she glanced at the tray on the table and realized she was starving. Making her way to the bathroom, she washed her hands and face. Then she walked back to the room and went to the table. The ham and cheese sandwich and coffee seemed inviting. Starving myself won’t help at all. I have to regain my strength and wait for a chance to escape.She had finished her sandwich and was drinking her coffee when she heard footsteps in the hallway. A young maid came in to take the tray.“Hello!” Christina said and tried to be friendly.The girl gave her a shy look but didn’t say a word.“Where am I?” Christina asked.The girl kept her eyes on the floor and picked up the tray without responding, again.“Please…” Christina pleaded. “I’m so scared…” She decided to try this approach, and she was right.The girl raised her eyes and glanced quickly toward the door that was left halfway open. Then she turned to Christina and gave her a shy smile. “Don’t worry!” she said. “It won’t be long.”“What won’t be long?” Christina asked, puzzled.“He’s coming soon, and everything will be over,” the girl replied and rushed to the door as footsteps were heard on the stairs. The maid closed the door behind her, and Christina was left alone, wondering what she meant by that and who was coming.
***
I’ll be posting a new section every Tuesday and Friday. The novel will be published in June 2015.
Read the blurb here

Excerpt from the crime and romance thriller The Bridge to Caracas by Stephen Douglass

Excerpt:

Mike glanced at his gasoline gauge as he threaded his XKE northward on Bayview Avenue through the heavy city traffic. The needle pointed precariously close to empty. “I’ve got to stop for gasoline. We’re running on fumes,” he said, then turned onto a Shell service station lot and stopped beside one of the three parallel gasoline islands. Karen immediately focused on the car parked beside the adjacent island. The sight of a long white Cadillac limousine shocked her and made her blood run cold. She jumped from the car and examined the license plate at the rear of the limo. “That’s it!” she shouted.“That’s what?” Mike asked, then inserted a gasoline nozzle into the fill pipe of his XKE.“It’s Jim’s!” she screamed, pointing frantically at the limousine. “I know it’s his!”Mike stopped filling then scanned the limousine’s interior. “There’s no one in it,” he said, then continued to fill his gasoline tank while keeping his eye on the door of the station. “Get back in the car and hide!” he shouted. “I don’t want him to come out of that station and see you with me.”Karen returned to her seat and lowered herself to the point where her eyes were parallel to the bottom of her side window.Mike finished filling his tank and returned the gasoline nozzle to the pump. He glanced again at the station to see a large fat man emerging from the office. He carried a white canvas bag and was heading straight toward the limousine. Mike opened his car door and leaned in to face Karen. “Have you ever seen him before?” he asked.Karen nodded, her face devoid of color. “His name is Jerry Allison. He works for Jim...He was also Jim’s best man at our wedding.”“I’ve got to pay for the gasoline. Stay out of sight.” Mike hurried to the station, but in spite of his haste the limousine had begun to move when he emerged from the building. He raced to catch up with the vehicle and hit the driver’s side window with his fist. “Hey! I want to talk to you!” he shouted.Allison looked up at Mike and recognized him immediately as the man with Servito’s wife in George Lanotti’s photographs. Refusing to acknowledge Mike’s demand, he looked straight ahead and kept the limousine rolling.Mike continued to run with the limousine and pounded hard on the windshield. “Stop!” he demanded, his face no more than a foot from the glass.Allison panicked and slammed his right foot against the accelerator. The limousine jerked forward with its rear wheels screeching against the pavement. The side mirror struck Mike’s ribs and hurled him to the pavement. He sprang to his feet and ran to his car. He fumbled with his keys while simultaneously trying to watch the limousine. He started his XKE and accelerated across the station lot in pursuit. “Why is he running?” he shouted.“He knows we’re looking for Jim!” Karen replied.Allison glanced at his rear-view mirror and now saw Karen. He looked at his watch. He had slightly less than an hour to make it to Servito’s farm. He did not want Mike and Karen to follow him to the farm but knew they would. If he took the time to lose his pursuers, he would likely be too late for Servito’s flight. Sweat covered his fat face and his heart beat faster. He accelerated to seventy, more than twice the speed limit, tires squealing each time he changed lanes. Again he looked in his rear-view mirror. Mike’s car was moving closer. He went faster.“Damn!” Mike shouted. “He’s out of his mind!”Allison glanced to his right and saw a large green and white sign, indicating the exit to Highway 401 was five hundred yards ahead. Making the turn onto Highway 401 was crucial. Taking the super highway would save at least thirty minutes. He decided to try to fool Mike into believing he was going to continue north on Bayview, then quickly turn onto the exit ramp at the last second. He swerved into the passing lane and accelerated to ninety. With less than a hundred yards between the limousine and the exit ramp, he veered sharply to his right, cutting across three traffic lanes.The limousine missed the exit ramp by less than five feet. The front wheels hit the curb and exploded on impact. The jolt hurled Allison forward, slamming his forehead against the top of the steering wheel. The blow stunned him and opened a long and deep bloody gash. The limousine rocketed over the curb and flew thirty feet to the face of a concrete retaining wall. The violence of the impact pushed the engine into the front seat, crushing both of Allison’s legs. Allison’s forward momentum again carried his face into the steering wheel, breaking his neck.Karen caught a glimpse of the crash as they raced by. “Oh, God!” she shouted, twisting her body in an effort to continue staring at the wreckage.Mike missed seeing the collision, but heard the terrible sound of the crash. “Was that the limo?” he asked.“He hit the concrete!” Karen shouted.Mike slammed his foot on the break pedal and brought his car to a stop within inches of the steel guardrail dividing the north and south bound lanes making it impossible to open his door. The heavy traffic to the right made it too dangerous to open the door on Karen’s side. “I have to go back there,” he said, then opened the convertible roof.“Do it fast. You don’t want the police to see you there,” Karen warned.Mike stepped from the car onto the top of the guardrail, walked several paces along it, then jumped to the road surface behind his XKE. He waited for a break in the traffic, then darted across the three north bound traffic lanes to the far curb and raced toward the limousine. Smoke and steam slowly emerged from the compressed remains of the front of the limousine while Allison remained motionless and slumped against the twisted steering wheel. His bloodied face was pointed at the driver’s side window. His mouth was partially open and his hazel eyes were unblinking.Mike tried in vain to open the driver’s side door, welded in place by the violence of the impact. Using a grapefruit-sized chunk of concrete, which had been split from the retaining wall, he carefully broke away the jagged edges shattered glass in the window. He leaned inside far enough to see that the fat man was still breathing. “Where’s Servito?” he shouted, hoping to elicit a response.Allison stared silently at Mike, his eyes glazed, his pupils dilated.“Come on, speak to me,” Mike pleaded. “Where’s Jim Servito?”Seconds later, Allison blinked. “Help me,” he whispered faintly.“What did you say?” Mike asked. He leaned further into the car and placed his right ear an inch from Allison’s mouth.“Help me,” Allison whispered.“I’ll help you if you tell me where Servito is.”“...His farm.”Mike pulled his head backward and saw that the fat man’s eyes had closed. “Don’t die now!” he pleaded, convinced that the fat man would never speak again. He reached inside Allison’s jacket pockets and found a passport. On the floor of the passenger’s side of the car he saw two large canvas bags. He put the passport in his pocket, picked up his chunk of concrete and raced to the far side of the limousine. He used the concrete to break the window and clear the glass, then reached in and extracted the bags. When he emerged from the window, he noticed a large number of people had left their cars to stare at the limousine. He raced to his car, jumped onto the guardrail, threw the canvas bags into the space behind his seat, then jumped in. He started the car and rocketed from the scene.“Did he tell you anything?” Karen asked.Mike nodded. “We were right. They went to the farm.”“Did he say anything about Phillip?”“No. He’s either unconscious or dead.” Mike stopped in the parking lot of a small plaza several miles away.“I’m going to put the roof up. Take a look at this while you’re waiting,” he said, handing Allison’s passport to Karen.Karen turned to look at the canvas bags behind Mike. “Why did you take those?” she asked.“Curiosity. Look at the passport first. Maybe it’ll tell us something.”Karen opened the passport. “It’s a fake. It says his name is name is John Smith,” she said, staring at the photograph of Allison. A small folded piece of paper fell from the passport onto her lap. She picked it up and stared at it in horror. Written by the hand of her own husband was an address in Caracas: No. 830 Av. Pral. de Mariperez, Caracas, Venezuela. Tel: 261-50-80. “This is Jim’s writing,” she said with a pensive frown.“What does it say?” “It’s an address in Caracas, Venezuela.” Her lips tightened as she gave Mike a worried stare. “What do you think it means?”“I haven’t the slightest idea...Why don’t you open the bags? Tell me what my curiosity found.”Karen reached behind Mike and pulled one of the bags to her lap. After loosening the tiecord, she stared at the contents in stunned silence.“What’s in it?” Mike asked.“I can’t believe it! It’s full of money!” Karen gasped, then pulled the second bag to her lap. She opened it and looked inside. “This one’s full of cash too! Where do you think he got it?”

Book Description:
"AN ASTOUNDING, REVEALING CRIME THRILLER, ONE YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO PUT DOWN, AND ONE YOU'LL NEVER FORGET."

"There was more plot happening in the first quarter of this book than happens in the entirety of other books."

“Not only has Douglass created a suspenseful, intriguing crime fiction saga, he also wrote a beautiful love story.”

“Mr. Douglass has written a crime story that makes one ask serious questions about the reality of the oil business.”

“This book belongs in a class with "Unbroken", "Lost in Shangri-La", "In the Garden of the Beasts", other five star books that I have enjoyed this summer.”

“Stephen Douglass has given us a one of the best fiction books I have read recently. It's easily worth 10 times the price and is 10 times better than many books costing more than that.”

"This is a very good suspense novel. I never was totally prepared for what was going to come next."

“I worked in the oil industry for many years but as a geophysicist. I had no idea that these things that took place in this book were going on.”



THE ALL NEW, PROFESSIONALLY COPY-EDITED VERSION OF “THE BRIDGE TO CARACAS”, (Volume one of THE KING TRILOGY), a truly amazing and gut-wrenching story.

How was an incredible $325,000,000 theft achieved using The Peace Bridge as a fulcrum?

It was a piece of national history. The story had to be told.

One of the largest and most audacious gasoline tax evasion scams in Canadian and U.S. history.

The perpetrator used The Peace Bridge, spanning The Niagara River, to facilitate his crime, and his private Cessna to transport the enormous fruits of the theft to the “safety” of a Cayman Island bank.

The scam netted an amount “that makes The New York State Lottery look like a Sunday school collection.”

Cynical and remorselessly ruthless, the thief possesses a brilliant criminal mind, has enormous contempt for the law, police, governments, and the system in which they function. He assumes rules are for fools, and takes sadistic pleasure in breaking them.



 
DISCOVER:



The mechanics of the scam, ( i.e. how such a gigantic theft was achieved.)
 


The extent to which the lives of two star-crossed lovers were disrupted by this criminal.


The character of the criminal, an unscrupulous individual with an absolute contempt for rules, the law, authority and propriety.
 


Why and how the story ended in Caracas, Venezuela. What happened to the fruits of his crime, and why.
 


How much of the story in fiction, and how much is fact.
Amazon / Amazon UK / Goodreads
 About the Author: Born and raised in Canada, Stephen spent the first half of his career working for the two largest oil companies in the world: Exxon and royal Dutch Shell. He spent the second half working for one of the smallest oil companies in the world; his own. Now retired, he spends his summers with his wife, Ann, at their Canadian home near Niagara Falls. He winters at their Florida home in Port St. Lucie. When he is not writing, he is reading, traveling, or playing bad golf. He plans to write until the day he dies, probably longer.

For Stephen, writing was an accident. When his friends in Muskoka and Florida became aware of the story of his incredible life in the Canadian oil business, they encouraged him to commit it to writing. They insisted it was a story that must be told. Reluctantly, he did, and after more than twenty years the story of AN ENDLESS AND CONFLICTED LOVE, A MAN WHO PLAYED WITH FIRE AND NEARLY LOST HIS LIFE DOING IT, and ONE OF THE LARGEST AND MOST AUDACIOUS THEFTS IN CANADIAN HISTORY, was finally made public. Stephen has entitled the book: The Bridge to Caracas, for reasons that will quickly be obvious to readers. The genre is romance crime fiction, if there is such a genre.

The sequels,The Tainted Trust, (the story of what happened to the $325,000,000 stolen from the Canadian and U.S. governments), the second in The King Trilogy, and Kerri's War, the third volume in The King Trilogy, are now live on Amazon KDP.

Stephen has said, "If readers have half as much fun reading The King Trilogy as I did writing it, they will be enriched."
Links:
Amazon Author Page
Facebook
Twitter

Excerpt from Mystery, Thriller, and Suspense Romance Dark Shadows of the Past - Chapter Two, Part One

Read Chapter One, Part One here...
Read Chapter One, Part Two here...
Read Chapter One, Part Three here...

CHAPTER TWO  
Christina woke up with a roaring headache. She was lying on a four-poster bed in the middle of a room. Anxiously, she scanned the unfamiliar bedroom, noting the heavy cherry wood furniture. What now? Where am I? How did I end up here?French doors led to a balcony. Am I a prisoner? Then again, there weren’t any bars. Trying to move, she realized she wasn’t tied up.Breathing out relieved, she supported herself on her elbows and attempted to sit up. The room seemed to be spinning around, and a moan escaped her lips at the sudden pain in her chest. She collapsed back down, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Oh, hell, the broken ribs! The painkillers must be wearing out. Determined, she gave it another try.This time, she managed to sit up and place her feet on the floor. Closing her eyes, she waited for the dizzy spell to pass and the pain to subside.Suddenly, she remembered hearing someone enter her hospital room and turning right at the moment that a man put a piece of cloth with a strong, nasty smell over her face. After that, she didn’t remember anything else.A jolt of fear shot through her, turning her blood to ice. Nervously, she scanned her surroundings. The room contained three doors. One of them was open, revealing a double vanity with a mirror in what must be the bathroom. That left two. One of them must be the way out. But is it locked?Despite the weakness plaguing her, she managed to stand up and make her way to the first door. The thick burgundy carpet smothered any noise. Her hand gripped the doorknob and turned it. The door opened quietly. Christina stepped into a hallway and carefully peered around. Nobody was in sight.The hallway was a large corridor with three doors, including hers, on each side. At one end, a huge bay window topped a window seat covered with green and peach pillows. The other side ended at the top of a staircase. Only the mahogany railings of the staircase and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling were visible to Christina.For a moment, she considered descending the stairs and running for the front door. Then again, she still wore the hospital gown. How far could she get in this? Would anyone even help her? I should search the room for something to wear.Walking back inside, she closed the door quietly. The bathroom was large and comfortable like the bedroom, with a sunken marble bathtub in the middle and a shower in the corner. Big windows overlooking well-maintained grounds and a manicured lawn covered the entire outside wall. This is a beautiful place. She’d only seen houses like this one in magazines.Where am I? The thought brought her back to reality. Throwing some water on her face, she rushed back to the bedroom, searching for the closet. Opening the third door of the room, she stepped inside a walk-in closet with a huge window on one side. In fact, it looked more like another bedroom, that’s how big it was.Christina stared at the rows of clothes. Women’s clothes, thank God! Below the outfits hanging were rows of shoes. At least forty to fifty pairs, she realized in amazement.Searching through her options, she found a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt, both a couple sizes too big. Luckily, she had a selection of belts. One section held lingerie sets with the tags still on. She grabbed the smallest size she could find, dropping everything into a pile as she pulled the hospital gown over her head.Most of the shoes seemed too big. Finally, a pair of boots fitted her fine after wearing two pairs of socks.All right so far. Now I have to find my way out of here before anyone comes to check up on me.Back in the bedroom, she looked at the clock on the dresser. It was six-thirty in the morning. It’s still early. That’s why nobody has come for me yet.Opening the French doors, she stepped out on the balcony. She leaned over the railings but soon realized it was too high to jump. Even though she was only on the first floor, the house was built on a hill, and the ground underneath was too far.A quick glance around revealed one of the dogwood trees landscaping the yard had branches reaching her balcony. Without a second though, she climbed over the railing and onto the thickest branch she could reach, biting her lower lip to prevent screaming from the pain in her chest. Her heartbeat stuttered at the cracking noise. Determined, she steadied herself using another branch until her fingers touched the trunk. Despite the dizzy, sick feeling in her stomach, Christina held on tightly as she started climbing down.Only a few feet from the ground, she froze at the low, vibrating growls coming from below. Not even breathing, she glanced down to see two Dobermans staring up at her.Oh, my God! Terror washed over her. Now what? She was too weak to climb back up. As a matter of fact, she was too weak to hold on any longer. She would fall on the ground any minute, and she would be torn to pieces by those two killers growling at her. Feeling her arms letting go, she closed her eyes in panic, and a scream escaped her lips.Right before she hit the ground, she heard a voice in the distance. A sharp pain shot through her ribs and left shoulder. She lay there in agony with her eyes tightly shut, too scared to even breath. She could feel the dogs breathing down on her, but they didn’t attack.Someone approached, but Christina kept her eyes shut, feeling her heart thundering in her chest. When a hand touched her forehead, her eyes flew open. A man wearing a polo shirt and a pair of jeans leaned over her. He was dark and handsome, but his misty grayeyes were icy cold. While staring into those eyes, a shiver caressed her spine. He was bad news, and Christina felt the urge to flee. However, even if she managed to stand on her feet, there was nowhere to run…His lips pressed into a thin line; the man peered down at her for a moment, which to Christina seemed like an eternity. Then he stood up. At his command, the dogs backed off, and Christina heard people running from the house. She turned and saw two men rushing toward them with guns in their hands.“Take her back upstairs!” the one standing over her ordered in a harsh voice.Christina swallowed hard, feeling her mouth dry. The guy watched as the two men grabbed her by the arms and violently pulled her to her feet. Then he turned around and walked toward the other side of the house with the dogs following him.The two bullies half-carried, half-dragged her upstairs to her room and threw her on the bed. When the door closed behind them, she rolled over, hiding her face in the pillow, letting her tears from excruciating pain and fear run free.
***
I’ll be posting a new section every Tuesday and Friday. The novel will be published in June 2015.

Read the blurb here

Excerpt from Mystery, Thriller, and Suspense Romance Dark Shadows of the Past - Chapter One, Part Three

Dan was sitting behind his desk at the Gwinnett County Police Department going through the file of this strange case. What the hell is going on? He slammed his fist on his desk, frustrated. This investigation had him puzzled.He thought of Christina Connors and William Beavers—the attorney found dead next to her in the alley. According to his sources, she was a talented jewelry designer, and he was a big-shot attorney from Marietta, Georgia. What could two such different people have in common, especially considering Christina insisted she didn’t know Beavers? Of course, she could be lying. However, Dan had a feeling she was telling the truth. There was something about this girl…Be careful, he cautioned himself for one more time. Don't get personally involved. Frustrated, he sprang to his feet and paced back and forth to clear his mind.A few minutes later, he went back to his desk and stared at his notes. The information he had so far was that twenty-seven-year-old Christina was from Birmingham, Alabama and had moved to Atlanta two years ago when she got her job with Century Jewelry Company.Dan had talked to her boss, Emily Lawrence, and several of Christina’s coworkers that morning. Lawrence indicated that she and Christina were best friends, but when Dan asked her about Christina’s habits or the way she spent her spare time, Lawrence hesitated. Dan could tell she was lying and couldn’t help but wonder why.Christina’s coworkers had nice things to say about the girl lying in the hospital bed. According to them, she was a quiet person, always sweet and polite to everybody, and devoted to her job. Then again, none of them seemed to know anything more about Christina or her personal life, either.Afterwards, he and Miles went to Christina’s apartment and spoke to her landlady. Same thing—her landlady spoke highly of Christina but didn’t know much about her life or if she had any friends or relatives.They also visited the attorney’s house in a prestigious subdivision in Lilburn and talked to his wife. She was in a state of shock, under the care of her doctor. The detectives didn’t stay long as she was in no condition to answer any questions. Besides, she didn’t seem to know much about her husband’s business dealings. Dan made a note to come back later, and they drove to Marietta, where Beavers kept his office. They spoke to his secretary and the attendant of the building’s parking lot.Dan closed the file on his desk and leaned back in his chair, raising his arms and locking his fingers behind his neck. He stared at the ceiling, going over the evidence in his mind. The attorney was found shot through the head. His wallet was still in his pocket, with all his credit cards and one hundred and thirty-five dollars in it. So the police had ruled out robbery right away.On the other hand, the girl’s purse was found a few feet away, empty and dumped in a trashcan. So far, he hadn’t been able to connect the girl with the attorney, and he was anxious to question her once the doctors permitted it. Which should be soon since all that was wrong with the girl was two broken ribs, some minor scratches and bruises, and a big bump on the back of her head. She didn’t seem to have been hurt in any other way, and from what the doctors said she hadn’t been raped.The ringing of the phone drew him from his thoughts. “Mallory…” he answered.He listened for a couple minutes and then hung up. He reached over, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the hospital. It’s about time I get some answers. It must be something important since the girl insisted on seeing me in the middle of the night.He was still going over the evidence in his mind when he arrived at Grady Hospital. The police hadn’t been able to find the murder weapon. The only other thing found at the scene of the crime was the attorney’s empty briefcase. Dan was wondering how the attorney ended up in the alley on the west side of Atlanta. According to his secretary, he left his office around eight o’clock. However, his car was still in the parking garage next to his office, located in a very prestigious building on North Marietta Parkway. His wife called the police around four o’clock in the morning to report her husband missing. The murder was reported to the police around six-thirty in the morning by an anonymous caller, and the body was found a few minutes later. The police were surprised to find Christina lying unconscious a few feet away.According to her coworkers, she left the office at four-thirty. Emily Lawrence told the police that Christina was supposed to meet a friend at five o’clock.Dan parked the car and rushed inside toward the elevators. Even though Grady Hospital was always busy at any time of day or night, tonight it seemed surprising quiet.As he stepped off the elevator on Christina’s floor, he instinctively searched for the officer stationed outside the girl’s room. No one was there. Dan rushed into her room to find the girl’s bed empty…Frantically, he checked the bathroom and stepped outside her room to scan the hallway both ways. She was nowhere to be found. Rushing to the nurses’ station down the hall, he found the policeman standing there, sipping his coffee, and talking to the head nurse.As soon as the officer saw Dan, he straightened his back. “I just came to grab a cup of coffee, sir,” he said in an apologetic tone of voice.“Where is the girl?” Dan yelled at him.Both the policeman and the nurse stared at him startled.“Where is the girl?” Dan repeated the question, losing his patience.“In her bed…” the policeman answered in a squeaky voice and glanced uneasily down the hall toward Christina’s room.“Call for backup!” Dan yelled over his shoulder and took off toward Christina’s room with the nurse running right behind him. He rushed into the room and searched it one more time. The bed was messed up, but everything else seemed to be in place...except Christina. She had vanished.The hospital staff was notified, and nurses rushed all over the place. They searched the whole floor. Within minutes, the hospital crawled with cops checking every inch.
I’ll be posting a new section every Tuesday and Friday. The novel will be published in June 2015.

Read the blurb here

My Review of The Secret by Rhonda Byrne - An inspiring and fascinating book

 An inspiring and fascinating book, May 24, 2015By AngelThis review is from: The Secret (Kindle Edition)
The Secret by Rhonda Byrne is an inspiring and fascinating book that I’ve read over and over again during the last three years and have listened to the audio CD numerous times. Having picked it up at a very difficult time in my life, it helped me overcome my grief, changed my way of thinking, and eventually, it changed my life.
Read it with an open mind, and I believe it will change your life, as well.
Amazon / Amazon UK / Goodreads

Excerpt from Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences by Muffy Wilson

Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences
by
Muffy Wilson
Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing

Excerpt:

The orchestra warmed up in a disconnected, faltering collection of notes, strings and horns as the wealthy patrons filed into the theatre and were settled. She wore a flowing yet form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown with a backline to the small of her back above the well-rounded cheeks of her ass. The cascading neckline tumbled in silken folds to her abdomen which revealed her breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts. She was of medium height with an envious rubenesque shape most men admired: long, shapely legs nipped tightly at the ankle tapering to narrow, small demi-feet elegantly adorned in satin heeled slippers with scarlet, well-pedicured peek-a-boo toes, full breasted bosom with pert erect nipples stretched against the fabric of her gown, round hips that accentuated a narrow waist and a lovely pleasing back that joined all her sumptuous qualities. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her life. Her rounded cheekbones accentuated the graceful curve of her jaw line as it narrowed to a slightly dimpled chin below heart-shaped ruby lips. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her auburn curls that caressed the pale white opaque flesh of her face. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival. She glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone.The house lights dimmed yet she glowed, demurely, in the white gown as if she were unmistakably the main attraction. She stared as he walked onstage: a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, arms outstretched in black opulent leather to embrace the audience, she felt to embrace her. His piercing gaze locked irresistibly onto her, in all her radiant purity. His intense black eyes seemed to declare his hunger. The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. He sang, it seemed to Jordan, to no one but her as she smiled quite involuntarily. Each throaty, reverberating note he released strummed every nerve to her very foundation.  His musical seduction began, and would surely end she thought, with her in his outstretched arms.  Her petulant feminine petals nestled in the protective mound where her thighs joined. They slowly filled with her eager response and unfolded the protection of the essential pearl of her existence as she answered his desire with a blush. She sat through the entire performance tethered to his gaze. The magnetism she could not resist overtook her fully and her responses were involuntary yet welcome. She felt his gaze through her gown caress her, push her, tease her and excite her with every deep vibrato he released into the hall.She was, therefore, completely surprised when the lights raised and the fluid embrace of his voice was gradually replaced by the swelling bustle of movement from the exiting audience. She looked to her left and right, then up to the stage beautifully shrouded by long red opulent velvet curtains separating her from the object of the gathered passion in her belly.Her reverie broken, she returned to the moment at hand. As she rose, the romantic trance invoked by his voice broke, the hold eased, and dropped shard by shard from her body so that she could move. She gathered her wits, shook off the spell and seemed to float in the afterglow with the others to the atrium. She exited the main entrance to the broad threshold above the street below.She took a few steps outside and shocked by the damp San Francisco night, drew her wrap ever tighter to her heaving breast, her nipples still erect from the seduction of the opera star. She paused a moment, enjoyed the remains of her trance, and proceeded down the steps to hail a cab.The after symphony reception was held at the home of one of San Francisco’s most prominent elite, a huge supporter and member of the Symphony Board of Directors, Drake Morrison. Drake and his wife Amelia were friends of Jordan’s parents who were absent because of a holiday in the Orient. Jordan’s parents were regular supporters of the Symphony and met the Morrisons frequently during intermission on most opening nights for a glass of champagne. She had been invited as a distraction from her solitude to join them on opening night at the reception in their home. She agreed to attend eagerly as she often attended the symphony with her Mother when her Father was unable.She felt her low-belly tighten; her heart pounded and her palms tingled with perspiration in anticipation. The main opera lead and cast always came to the receptions. The non-profit organization relied upon their attendance to boost donations so she knew she would see him here and she wondered if he would even recognize her or if the reverie of connection had been hers alone.When he entered with his entourage, he towered over everyone with his black elegance. He was beautiful, a stunning black onyx statue carved to magnificent perfection. When she saw him, only feet away, she staggered slightly as he turned to her with an outstretched hand in greeting, eyes locked in a magnetic embrace. She lost her breath and her heart in one moment as she touched his fingertips with hers. He clasped her hand with the both of his and pulled her close to his body with a knowing smile curled on the curve of his chiseled jaw line. She felt his heat, was hypnotized by his aroma. She knew then that he remembered her in the audience; he had sung to her, he had sent his words in musical notes on foils to surround her, lift and seduce her.The moment was suspended when he was directed to further introductions. He bowed ever so slightly with his departure and barely whispered, a bientot, mem’selle, his breath searing her neckline. She weakened in his presence and felt ill-balanced on a passionate precipice as he moved away. Their arms outstretched unwilling to be parted, her hand slid from his as their fingertips relinquished an electric hold.“A bientot, mem’selle,” he had said. She hung on every word with rapt expectation for their next meeting as he moved into the crowd of admirers.She watched as he worked the room, seducing male and female alike with his charisma and brilliance. He was a master in the simple ministration of his charm. He spoke with confidence, smiled at nonsensical nervous banter and made everyone most relaxed in his presence with an effortless touch.The night edged on and she resigned she was like all the others, seduced by the sheer presence of the man. She sought out the Morrisons and bid them a grateful goodnight. She went into the library where her wrap was hung. A manly black hand extended and took it from her grip and as she spun, he curled her into his embrace as well as the shawl.             “My room key at the Hotel Whitcomb. The town car service I called to take you there is waiting outside. Room 457. Have I presumed too much?” as he pressed himself to her body and the key card into her hand. The low melodious tone of his voice melted any thought of resistance.            

Blurb:

THAT night…
SHE wore a flowing, form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown that cascaded in tumbled silken folds to her abdomen and revealed her breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her life. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her auburn. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival as she glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone…but not for long.
Would she regret her indulgence?
HE was a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, chest broad and arms outstretched in opulent black leather. His intense black eyes locked irresistibly onto her and declared his hunger. The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. His musical seduction began, and his hypnotic gaze was met by her eager response as she answered his desire with a blush.
But, was his desire enough?
THEY spent an insatiable night together in Room 457 of the Historic Whitcomb Hotel locked in a magnetic embrace riding moonbeams of passion and ribbons of desire that wove them irretrievably together in ways that only the future would disclose—a future neither of them ever anticipated. Would the secrets of the past, of that one night, prove too much to bear as the future unfolds the truth and the depths of her desperate need?
Would the life and death struggle she faced overshadow the seeds of love planted a decade earlier?


To be released soon...

Author Bio and Links:

Muffy, author of erotic, romantic stories about love, sex, hope and passion, was born in San Antonio, Texas, to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. She adored her older brothers, following them everywhere and was surrounded by love, stimulation, and pets. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. The family lived in most points between Alaska and France. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and came of age in France.Returning from France with her family, Muffy finished high school in Northern California and attended the University of California, Davis, and majored inBusiness Management. Muffy entered the work force, independent with a fierce work ethic, and retired at 39 from IBM as a Mid-West Regional Director in the Real Estate and Construction Division. She and her husband moved to a small Island in northern Wisconsin where they owned a historic tavern, restaurant and resort business which they since have sold. They now live a charmed life by the water in SW Florida. Muffy pretends to be a serious real estate business person but, in real life, indulges her private interest in writing sexy short stories and sensual literotica ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion. | Website |  Blog  |  Twitter  | Email |  Facebook  |  FB Fan Page  |
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Excerpt from Mystery, Thriller, and Suspense Romance Dark Shadows of the Past - Chapter One, Part Two

A scream escaped her lips as she frantically took off toward the staircase. Stumbling over a box, she tumbled down the flight of stairs. Landing on her back, a sharp pain shot right through her ribs, making it hard to breathe.“Help!” she screamed desperately, but the deafening noise of Mrs. Stanley’s TV covered every other sound.A short, muscular man, dressed in black, with a nasty scar on his face, appeared at the top of the staircase. Christina’s breath caught in her throat when she saw the brutal look in his eyes as he lunged down the steps.If I don’t make it out of here, I’m dead! She placed a shaking hand against the wall and the other on a clay pot of a dead plant and managed to stand up and stumble for the front door. Just one more step and I’m there… Ouch! Pain shot right through her right arm as the man grabbed her and swung her around violently. Instinctively, Christina rammed her knee into his groin. A loud moan escaped his lips and letting go of her arm, he bent over.Christina made it to the door. She grabbed the handle and opened it. A breath of fresh air hit her in the face. Seeing a car turning into the dead-end street, she opened her mouth to scream but a filthy smelling hand shattered her attempt and pulled her back inside. The man fell backwards on the floor pulling Christina down with her back against him. Deriving courage from the terror rushing through her veins, she drove her right elbow into his ribs and rolled away from him.“You bitch!” he barked and jumping to his feet, he kicked Christina in the stomach with all his might. As she doubled up in pain, she caught a glimpse of Mrs. Stanley appearing at her apartment door.Terror-stricken, the lady tried to slam the door shut. However, the man was a lot faster and shoving her violently, he went inside the apartment after her.“No!” Christina screamed unable to move.A minute later, her assailant rushed back toward her. Christina’s eyes widened in horror as she saw blood dripping from the knife in his right hand.He dragged her off the floor, up the stairs, and down the corridor toward Johnny’s apartment while Christina twisted and turned, kicking and screaming, trying to free herself from the deadly grip.When they reached the apartment, he let go of her arm and grabbed her wrist. He twisted her arm behind her back and forced her inside. Scared and bewildered, Christina scanned her surroundings as the metallic smell of blood hit her nostrils, making her want to puke.Johnny was sitting on a chair with his hands tied behind his back. His face was all cut up and bruised, and blood was dripping from the side of his mouth. His right knee was covered in blood all the way down his leg to a revolting dark pool on the floor.Christina bit her lower lip to prevent from screaming. Anxiously, her gaze flew from Johnny to the short, bulky man standing next to him, and then, to the tall, bald-headed one, standing by the window.“Where the hell have you been?” the short one asked Christina’s assailant.“That bitch gave me a hard time!” he growled, twisting Christina’s arm even harder, bringing tears to her eyes.While the tall man had made no move since Christina came in, the other one came toward her and turning to Johnny he asked in a harsh voice: “What do we have here?”“Leave her alone! She has nothing to do with this,” Johnny yelled at him.Christina felt her heart sinking, hearing his squeaky voice.“Well, maybe she has. Maybe she hasn’t. We have to make sure, though, don’t we?” the man replied coldly.“I told you; she has nothing to do with all this. Let her go!” Johnny pleaded.The guy ignored him and coming closer to Christina, he grabbed her chin with one hand and forced her to face him. “Who are you?” he commanded.Christina shook, unable to utter a word. A scream escaped her lips when the man still holding her wrist twisted her arm tighter behind her back.“Who are you?” the short one repeated the question coldly.“Christina. Connors,” Christina rushed, and her voice sounded no louder than a whisper.“And what were you doing out there in the corridor?” the man demanded.“We were supposed to have dinner,” she replied and glanced at Johnny frightened.“She’s just a friend,” Johnny interrupted.“Well, maybe we should ask your friend about the tape,” the man said.“I told you!” Johnny growled. “She knows nothing!”“We’ll see about that!” he said and approached the tall one still standing by the window.The two of them talked for a few minutes, every now and then glancing toward Christina.A moment later, the short one came back toward her. “She’s coming with us,” he said firmly.“No!” Johnny cried out. “Leave her alone!”The man paid no attention to him. He waved to the man who was still holding Christina, and she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. Then, she woke up in the alley…Oh, my God! What about Johnny? Christina wondered, feeling the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Frantically, she sat up and despite the pain in her chest, she yelled to the policeman outside.The policeman rushed into the room. “What’s wrong?”“Please…” Christina cried out as the policeman rushed toward her, calling out for the nurse at the same time.“Please...help him!” Christina exclaimed in agony and pushed away the nurse who had rushed into the room and was trying to make her lie back down.“I’m going to give her something to relax,” the nurse said, and the policeman nodded in agreement.“No!” Christina protested. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”“Please, Miss Connors,” the nurse insisted, checking her pulse and her blood pressure.“Johnny is in danger! You must help him.”“Who is Johnny?” the policeman inquired.“Miss Connors, you blood pressure is too high. If you don’t calm down, I’ll have to give you something to do it for you. Please, take a few deep breaths, and the nice police officer will listen to you.”I need to calm down. I have to explain to them about Johnny. “I want to speak to the detective,” Christina said, taking deep breaths.“He’ll be here first thing in the morning,” the policeman assured her. “But if it’s something urgent you can tell me, and I’ll contact him immediately.”“Yes! Yes, it’s urgent. Tomorrow morning might be too late.”Without a word, the policeman turned on his heel and walked outside the room. Christina saw him talking on his radio and breathed out in relief. The detective will listen to me, she thought. He will know what to do.
***
Wild thoughts whirled around in her mind as she waited for the detective. Who were those people? How did Johnny get involved with them? He wasn’t the type of guy to have dealings with people like that. But then again, she realized, what do I actually know about Johnny?They had been casual friends for a while, but she didn’t know much about his work or his life. She only knew he was from Denver and had no close relatives.Thinking back, it struck her kind of odd having run into him on several occasions in Birmingham and meeting him again a few months later in Atlanta after she had moved here. Johnny didn’t remember her from Birmingham at all, and Christina hadn’t thought much about it back then. However, what if things weren’t the way they seemed? What if he did remember her? Then why would he lie about it, and what did he know about her?A chill caressed her spine. Oh, my God! Will the nightmare ever end? Will I ever be able to have a normal life and stop being afraid?Up to now, she’d been successful in hiding her past, and no one had ever suspected anything. Why would they, anyway? Everything had happened so long ago, and almost everyone who knew Christina’s real identity, was dead…But what about Johnny? she wondered once more. What if he somehow knew who she was? What if he had followed her here from Birmingham? Don’t be ridiculous, she reprimanded herself. Stop being paranoid and seeing enemies everywhere! But then again, her mother’s tragic death had made her realize that her father’s people were ruthless, and they would stop at nothing to find her and either force her back or kill her. Of course, her father—Mafia lord Paolo Rosetti—was dead. She had read about it in the papers, some years back. But his family would never give up. That was the kind of people they were. No one ever walked out on them and survived.Unconsciously, she raised her hand to touch the locket she usually wore around her neck. Alarmed, she realized it was gone. What on earth? Her heartbeat accelerated. The locket was a present from her mother—the only thing she had to be reminded of that wonderful person who sacrificed everything to save her.“Where is my locket?” she asked the nurse who had just stepped into the room.“Don’t worry, Miss. Your locket is with your personal effects. We have to remove all jewelry as a precaution.”“Oh, I see.” Christina breathed out relieved.It was stupid of her to keep the locket on since it had the Rosetti’s crest carved on the front. However, her mother had the words I love you engraved on the back, and Christina wore it so that the crest was in the back and the loving words in the front. Thinking of her mother, Christina drew a deep breath and placed her fist against her mouth, fighting back the tears. I need to pull myself together.“Could you please bring me my locket?”“Don’t worry, Miss Connors. Your locket is safely stored away.”“Please…” Christina pleaded, feeling a lump in her throat.The nurse stared at her for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” she said finally and left the room.Christina tried to relax, but her thoughts flew to Johnny again. I have to tell the detective about him,she thought determined. No matter who he is, he’s probably in serious trouble right now…
***
I’ll be posting a new section every Tuesday and Friday. The novel will be published in June 2015.

Read the blurb here

Wonderful 5-star Review by talented author S.R. Mallery for Deadly Secrets

 The Greek Isles Meets Murder & Romance, May 20, 2015By S. R. MalleryVerified Purchase(What's this?)This review is from: Deadly Secrets (The Greek Isles Series Book 2) (Kindle Edition)Talk about a page-turner! Fifteen minutes in and I realized this was Book 2 and I probably should be reading Book 1. The problem was I was so hooked by then I couldn’t abandon the story. Able to stand on its own (i.e., the author’s talent), the book’s backdrop is the Greek Isles, where the sparkling Aegean, white buildings, and fine Greek cuisine all play hosts to family secrets, inheritances, and an old, unsolved murder. Along comes Helena, saddened by her mother’s recent death in England on top of her father’s mysterious demise from years before. Returning to her childhood home and her slightly older aunt, Sophie, she encounters far more than she had bargained for. Complicated romantic relationships intermingling with past events and miscommunications all kept me glued to the novel and itching to know how it was all going to turn out. Not your typical romance novel, this one is a keeper! 5 stars.
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Muffy Wilson: Awesome Author Excerpts and Buy Links

Muffy Wilson: Awesome Author Excerpts and Buy Links: Desire Unexpected by S J Maylee (@SJMaylee) Read the excerpt here Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever by L. V. Lewis (@lv_lewis)...