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Mystery excerpts > Casey's Luck by Maggi Coleman

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message 1: by Maggi (last edited Aug 04, 2009 04:44PM) (new)

Maggi Andersen | 7 comments Blurb: When Casey Rowan finds her best friend Donald Broughton murdered and his wife Tessa unconscious, she embarks on a search for their attacker. The Devon police aren’t happy, particularly the man in charge of the investigation, DCI Roderick Carlisle.
A woman’s magazine editor, Casey uses her experience to pursue leads. She uncovers a puzzling list of artworks—and discovers she didn’t know the Broughtons as well as she thought. Desire to clear Donald’s name and find his killer drives Casey on, even when a lead takes her into the corrupt London art world. And into danger. Carlisle, caught up in the investigation, cannot protect her. His pleas for her to give up fall on deaf ears. And despite finding him extremely desirable, Casey won’t listen. The murderer must be stopped, and what she needs now is luck.

Excerpt: Caffeine would help, Casey decided and poured a cup, carrying it into the hall.
She paused at the hall table to study a photograph in a gold frame: herself and
Tessa in their caps and gowns. Like bookends standing on each side of Don,
drinking champagne in the crowded Quad at Oxford. In the misty air, her
rebellious brown curls tipped her mortarboard to a drunken angle, creating an
untidy counterbalance to petite Tessa, her red hair a neat plait over her shoulder.
As she replaced the photograph, a deathly sweet, unpleasant smell assaulted
her senses. She moved towards the sitting room doorway and faltered.
The doors to the terrace stood open, and the leaves had blown in and nestled
at the foot of Don’s chair. He sat just where she’d left him the night before.
The cup and saucer slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor,
spilling coffee over the rug. She stumbled over them.
“Don?” His eyes remained open, and a stream of blood ran from the corner
of his mouth and mixed with the hairs of his neatly clipped beard. The front of his
shirt, saturated in blood, pooled into his lap.
She placed her hands on his shoulders to shake him awake. “Don?” The
moment she touched him, her legs buckled, and she fell into a crouch at his feet.
His glasses lay beside her on the floor. Her bloodied hand hovered over them.
Don’t touch them.
A labored but bubbled breath floated through the room. Tessa.
She jumped to her feet and scrambled to the other side of the room.
Brownish blood spots splashed across the green linen sofa. Tessa lay behind it on
her stomach, the back of her ivory nightgown stained bright red, fanning out to a
reddish-pink.
“Tessa, Tessa?” She touched her gently, but Tessa didn’t stir. She looked just
like a waxy porcelain doll some child had thrown down in a corner, arms and legs
akimbo.
She grabbed the phone from the table near the door and dialed.
“What service do you require?”
“Ambulance. Someone’s been hurt. I think she’s dying.”
“What’s the address?”
Her mind went blank. What was the damned street number? She took a
huge breath to steady herself, and the number emerged. She leaned back against
the wall. Through the open door, she heard rustling in the trees across the lawn.
Her heart hammered, and she ran to slam the terrace doors shut. As her clumsy,
trembling fingers shoved the bolt home, she saw it. The deer stood stock still,
watching her. Suddenly spooked, it bounded away into the woods. She scoured
the bare, wintry branches for further signs of life, afraid of what she might find.
Could those ghostly trunks shield a murderer? Or was he still somewhere in the
house?
http://www.wildchildpublishing.com




message 2: by Rick (new)

Rick I like this very much. It contains many disturbing images, and has a fast, frantic pace to it.


message 3: by Maggi (new)

Maggi Andersen | 7 comments Thanks Rick, glad you like it. The book's available now on Amazon Kindle.


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