romance

Shop while you Read!

November 1, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

The FALL BOOK BASH continues! November is already here and if you’re like me, you haven’t even begun to think about Christmas presents. Have I got some stocking stuffers for you!

Books, books, and more books! And what better way to find a great book than by reading a few excerpts. Pull up a chair and jump right in! Don’t forget to check out the last four Fall Book Bash blog post book excerpts as well.

Today, author Tammy A. Doherty is sharing an excerpt from her romantic/suspense novel, SHE’S MINE. This is the first book in Tammy’s new inspirational series, The Mystique of Naultag. Tammy also has an inspirational western series you should check out. (the 1st book is Free) You can find it here.

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SHE’S MINE (Excerpt):

The note was taped to her front door, just as before. Remember where you belong. Jealousy enrages. No mercy will be shown when I take revenge. Fear sent an icy current down Caitlin’s spine, radiating out to her fingertips. She stepped back inside, locking the door.

No one was out there. Not now. Sometime during the night, while she slept unaware, the vicious note had been placed on the heavy wooden door, inside the screen door. Who hated her so much? Marci Coffey? Maybe, but Marci didn’t seem like the type to leave notes. She worked in more devious ways. Besides, Marci had no reason to be jealous.

Janelle, warning her to stay away from Scott? Twelve years of friendship and not one sign of jealousy. Until Saturday. Yet, Janelle hadn’t said she didn’t trust her. Caitlin had assumed the implication.

This note resembled the first one. Thick black marker, bold handwriting. The question of where she belonged.

Adam. “Stay with me Caitlin. We belong together.”

It hadn’t been her imagination playing tricks on Saturday. He was here. Why? She told him she wasn’t interested. Made it quite clear. And though he knew she was moving, she’d never told him to where. Had she?

Tears dripped onto the paper. Get a grip, Caitlin. Call Eric. He’ll know what to do. A police presence should scare off Adam. Just like in Lynn, when her roommate had called the police to complain about Adam sitting out front in his car, all night.

The trembling inside stilled as she looked up Eric’s number. He’d do something to help. She hesitated. What if Marci answered? Maybe Caitlin should call him at the police station since it was official business. Asking for Eric might start a rumor. If Marci found out, she’d have fuel for her anger, even if it was imagined fuel. Talking to someone else and saying she suspected Marci…wouldn’t that get Eric in trouble? Telling a complete stranger about Adam was out of the question. She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to talk with Janelle about the incident.

Caitlin set the cordless phone down on the desk. She couldn’t call anyone. Lord, how could you let this happen? I thought you’re supposed to watch over me and keep me safe?

* * *

Sean stared at the weather report on television. Eighty percent chance of rain today. Twenty percent chance of Caitlin wanting to see me again. Worse if she realized he’d followed her yesterday, even if it was only as far as the emergency room entrance.

Did the doctor prescribe something for her pain? He could call, offer to help change her bandage. What was the worst that could happen?

This was the worst. Caitlin stuck in his thoughts. She wasn’t the first woman he found attractive. Although, since breaking up with Melissa there hadn’t been anyone serious.

Beautiful, flawless Melissa. She wore her wealth with charm and grace, exuding sophistication. And she’d chosen Sean to be at her side. All he had to do was let Melissa mold him into her vision of perfection. She picked out his suits, introduced him to the right people, planned his future. She had painted an exquisite picture in his dreams. But that’s all it had been, a dream. When he had refused to turn the campground into house lots, her anger boiled over.

“Do you know how much that real estate is worth? I deserve that money.” Her face had bloomed red beneath layers of makeup as her voice rose. “After all I’ve done. You were just a dumb hick when we met. Now look at you. Mingling with the crème de la crème. Dining at the poshest restaurants. A position with one of the best firms on Wall Street. I made you who you are today. You owe me.”

Melissa used her father’s money and name to get what she wanted but it wasn’t enough. She needed a husband who could support her opulent way of life. She only saw him as a tool for maintaining her bank account. She was in love with his earning potential. And she was his stepping-stone. He’d been attracted to her family’s money. Her prestige. Her lifestyle. They used one another. The only difference, Melissa did it consciously. Sean had fooled himself into believing he was in love.

Why was he letting a woman monopolize his thoughts and dreams again?

Caitlin was beautiful, but it went beyond that. She didn’t flaunt her father’s wealth and fame. The farm could be sold off as building lots for a great deal of money. Instead, she’d moved into the house, keeping it in the family. She looked comfortable and at ease here in Naultag. Like she belonged.

She had backbone and nerve but got scared of imaginary monsters. She didn’t want anyone’s help, yet managed to get stuck in an unlocked basement. When she interacted with the Bartlett twins she’d let down the bristly facade. Warmth infused her voice, reflected in her eyes.

Who was crazier—a woman who sees imaginary monsters or the man who wanted to vanquish them for her?

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Find Tammy’s books here:

Amazon/Kindle Barnes & Noble (for print book)

Connect with Tammy: Facebook author page Amazon author page

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Thanks for stopping! Have a question for Tammy or just want to say hi? Leave a comment!

Barbara

The Suspense is killing me!

October 24, 2015 By Barbara Leave a Comment

THE FALL BOOK BASH continues! Today I’m sharing an excerpt from my Inspirational suspense novel, ALIAS RAVEN BLACK. It is the 2nd book in the Second Chances Series, but it can be read as a stand-a-lone. There is also a bit of romance for you die-hard romantics, and plenty of suspense to keep you turning pages.

~~Brenna has gone undercover as Raven Black, taking a job as nanny to the children of a widowed mobster. Working for the FBI, she needs to find evidence that will put him away for good, but taking care of children is a lot harder than taking on a new identity, and kids aren’t nearly as easy to manipulate as she’d anticipated. Her role takes on a whole new level of danger when she discovers secrets about their mother that could get her killed. ~~

ALIAS RAVEN BLACK (excerpt)

She sat on the ground and loosened the laces of the skates she’d borrowed for the occasion. They had obviously belonged to Carlotta. Maria had dug them out of a closet along with her own. They were only a half size too big so she pulled on an extra pair of socks and slipped her feet in them. The laces were long and took some time to tie.

“I see you’ve kept your word to the children.”

Giordano’s voice startled her out of her reverie. He stood behind her, his arms crossed and a smug smile on his handsome face. He wore a soft brown leather jacket over a turtleneck sweater with tan cords and hiking boots. He looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of a department store catalogue. He reached down and gave her a hand up as she finished tying the skates.

“Thank you, Mr. Giordano,” she said and tried to balance on the blades.

“Call me Anthony.” He tucked a lock of her hair back inside her knit hat as she faced him. His touch was velvet smooth and she couldn’t help smiling.

“Anthony. It seems a bit strange,” she admitted.

“What? My name or calling me by it?” His teasing tone made him seem more human. He took her arm and helped her out on the ice. “Have you ever skated before?”

She shook her head. “Not on ice. But when I was a kid I did roller skate a couple times at the rink. Not enough to excel at it of course, just enough to learn I should take up skiing instead.”

He laughed, and the sound echoed across the pond. The children turned to stare at their father. “I find that hard to believe. You look as though you’d be good at whatever you set your heart on.”

“I guess that was the problem. I didn’t have my heart set on it. I do have a passion for skiing though and I admit that I excel at it,” she bragged. She pushed off and glided slowly forward. It was easier than roller-skating. The blades slid along the ice with little effort, unlike the old four wheels she remembered. She started to fall but caught her balance almost immediately and turned back with a self-satisfied grin. “I may be better at this than I thought.”

“Pride cometh before a fall,” he called out.

“Falling doesn’t take pride, just clumsiness.” With ever lengthening strokes, she glided across the width of the pond, confidence building as she kept her balance and remained steady on the blades. Nearing the edge she tried to turn and took the corner a little too fast, spun around and landed smack down on the ice. She heard a loud crack. Was it her head or the pond? She lay there for a few seconds trying to catch her breath and heard laughter around her.

“Miss Black, are you all right?” asked Rico. He stood over her wearing a wide grin. He put out his hand as though to help her up, but his father was already kneeling beside her.

“I see you’ve mastered ice skating as well.” He grasped her hands and pulled her to her feet. His laughter was an appealing sound on the morning air and Brenna, slightly embarrassed, smiled too. She tried to pull away but her skates began to slip and he pulled her back into his arms to steady her.

“Watch out, kids, Miss Black is on the ice,” he warned. His brown eyes were filled with laughter although he tried to sound serious.

“You should let her go, Daddy,” Maria admonished. “She needs to learn on her own.”

“Very wise advise, but I’m afraid if she falls again she’s going to be concussed and won’t be able to take care of you two. That would put me right back in the predicament I was in before she came.”

“You can let her go, Dad. I can teach her to skate.” Rico watched his father strangely as though he’d never seen him act playful.

“I’m really fine.” Brenna pushed against Anthony’s chest and tried to put some distance between them for the children’s sake. They seemed uncomfortable with the situation.

“If you’re sure.” His expression turned impassive, his eyes cold as the ice beneath them. He turned to go.

“Aren’t you going to skate, Daddy?” Maria called after him. She skated haltingly to his side and took his hand. “Watch me, Daddy. Rico showed me how to turn.” She skated a few yards away and took the turn but tripped herself up with her own skate and promptly fell to the ground. She looked up eagerly, hoping for a word of encouragement.

“Keep practicing!” he called out as he strode away. “If you can’t make a simple turn without falling, there is no sense in my wasting time standing around to watch.”

Brenna slid carefully to Maria’s side and dropped to the ice beside her. The little girl’s heart was breaking. She’d thought she was doing so well until Giordano had to burst her childish bubble. The man should be horsewhipped! Maria looked up, her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s all right, honey,” Brenna said. She swept her into her arms. “I think you did just great. And with a little more practice you’ll be flying around this pond like a pro.”

“I hate him,” Rico said. His hands were balled into fists inside his gloves and his jaw was rigid with anger. “Why does he always have to ruin everything?”

Brenna didn’t know what to say so she remained silent, watching Giordano’s retreating form. Rico skated off, taking his anger out on the ice. He skated fiercely, as though each stroke of his blades took him farther away from his father. Brenna knew exactly how that felt and wished she could take away the pain that lay beneath his anger. Instead, she watched him skate, hugging Maria tighter, and wondered if there were fathers in this world who really cared for their children.

~~~ Download your copy today! Or pick up a gift copy for a friend. Christmas is right around the corner… ~~~

RUNNING HOME ALIAS RAVEN BLACK

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Thanks for stopping! Hope you enjoyed the excerpt of Alias Raven Black. Leave a comment and let me know what you think or just to say hello.

Barbara

Autumn, Authors, & Awesome Reads!

October 21, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

FALL BOOK BASH!!! For the next two months I have a selection of author friends who will be sharing excerpts from their books with us. Christmas is looming closer and closer and now is a great time to discover new authors and books to add to your “To Be Read” list during the holidays or great gift ideas for family and friends. So, get ready for some fun!

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Felicia N. Mires is with us today, sharing her romantic murder mystery, UNSEEN. Felicia has over twenty published books in the Christian fiction market. She writes romance, mystery, and even has a Mossad spy series that looks really good:) Read the free excerpt and then check out her other books by clicking the links below.

Detective Caleb Forest has just been assigned his first case as lead detective in a murder. He’s also been assigned to teach the ropes of detecting to a romance novelist, Miss Destiny Knox. This tag-along comes with a zany giggle and stilettos that would put a hooker to shame. She’s much too attractive to wander the confines of a police station, inhabited as it is by men with less than stellar appetites. How does Caleb solve a murder when he spends more time explaining his delectable sidekick than he does detecting?

UNSEEN (excerpt):

I know where you are. I bet you thought I forgot about you and what you did to me. You’ll be sorry. It’s only a matter of time. I’m coming for you all. Watch your back. Of course, it won’t do any good. I was always smarter than you. This is really going to be fun.

Caleb Forest swallowed hard and bit back a sharp retort. No, he did not want a tagalong while he investigated a murder. No, he did not want some dorky author writing down everything he said about police procedure. And no, he especially didn’t want some female, some yakkety-yak riding in his car. Was he going to tell his captain that? No. He kept his expression blank as the captain talked on.

“Ya got that, Forest? Me and the little lady’s grandpa go way back. Don’tcha let nothin’ happen to her.”

Caleb nodded. “Yes, sir. You can count on me. How long do you think the uh…little lady will want to accompany me…an hour…two?”

“Don’t be a smart mouth. Her name’s Destiny Knox, and she’ll be riding with you ’til ya solve the new murder.”

“Cap’n, please. I just got that case…what? Two hours ago? It could be weeks…even months before we make an arrest!”

“Whithersoever, Forest, whithersoever.” Captain Jonas smiled without mirth and leaned his chair back so far Caleb thought he might flip it. “Now get outta here. The coroner’s waitin’ for you ta take a gander at that stiff so he can bag it. And Forest…Destiny’s sitting in the corridor. Ferry her along with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Caleb turned and quietly closed the door behind him. What had he done to deserve this? On Homicide for just over a month, and he was sure to knock heads with the Captain. And, for what? Some old bag with a macabre desire to see a murder scene.

His feet dragged across the fading linoleum as he approached the chairs lining the wall of the precinct. Three women waited, along with two disreputable-looking young men with more tats showing than skin. Of the three females, Caleb discounted the youngest. Though her luxurious brown hair might have been attractive if not teased and streaked with pink glitter, the tight black mini and stilettos bespoke a career in prostitution. She completely ignored him as she filed her long nails. Was she really so jaded at her age? Thank God, he didn’t work Vice.

Caleb tamped remorse and shifted to the other women. Which of the two would hound his heels over the coming days?

“Detective Forest?” The prostitute vaulted out of her chair and held out a hand. “Destiny Knox. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

Caleb’s mouth opened and closed several times before words issued forth. “Uh, yes. Detective Caleb Forest.” He continued to stare, taking in her clear green eyes, heavily painted lids, and her unblemished skin.

She pumped his hand as she chattered on. “I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to ride along on your rounds. The desk sergeant said you just got a new murder. How thrilling! Let me get my notebook. I don’t want to overlook one detail.”

She abruptly twisted away and sashayed back to retrieve a notebook and jacket off the chair she’d vacated. How in the world did she walk in heels that high? She had lovely legs and a very nicely rounded…

Caleb closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and raised his gaze to the teased mass of curls on her head. This was going to be a greater trial that he’d thought. He held out a hand and pointed at the side door. “Over here, Miss Knox.”

The portly desk sergeant smirked as Caleb walked past. He ignored the affront. He’d be doing that a lot if this case dragged, particularly if Miss Knox’ choice of attire remained so visually stimulating. Their elbows bumped, and he looked down then just as quickly glanced away. It wasn’t that her clothes revealed anything. The dress wasn’t particularly low-cut. Miss Knox just happened to be well-endowed, extremely well-endowed. Caleb thought of a few choice words he’d like to say to his new captain. Words he’d never utter.

“…so I thought a first-hand view would give me a better chance of writing something believable.” Bright, trusting eyes gazed up at him.

Caleb pasted on a polite smile and reached for the door handle of his dark blue sedan. He had no clue what Miss Knox had just communicated. If he didn’t want the captain to have a few choice words for him, he’d better start listening.

“Oh, thank you, Detective, but you don’t have to open the door for me. I know you’ve much more important things to worry about.”

Seriously? “Please get in the car, Miss Knox, or I won’t be able to see to those important things.”

She giggled like a schoolgirl and climbed in. “Of course.”

Caleb walked around the back of the car. Thus far, he didn’t see how Destiny Knox had the brains to write a believable mystery. Maybe she was penning a true crime novel. Either way, he didn’t particularly care. He slid into his seat and started the engine, already focused on what he’d find at the scene. A young woman, dead.

Miss Knox pulled on her seatbelt then twisted to face him. “So, Detective. You have a plain car.”

“It’s got all the bells and whistles if I need them. Let me know if you get cold, I’ll turn on the heat.”

“I’m fine. I like that gun in your shoulder strap. Can I hold it?”

“No.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.” From the dancing humor of her eyes, she was laughing at him. He really didn’t want to indulge her.

“Ok. How long have you worked homicide?”

“About a month.”

“Ahh, a newbie. You know much?”

“More than you, apparently.”

Miss Knox giggled again and pulled out her notebook. “Touché. What did you do before?”

“Before I became a cop or before I made detective?”

“You did something else before you became a cop?”

“Nope.”

“Ok…let’s go with what you did before you became a detective.”

“Beat cop…downtown.”

“I guess you’ve seen your share of gang war, drugs, and hookers.”

He grinned over at her. “Yeah. You look just like one. Was that your intent?”

“I didn’t want to stand out at a crime scene.”

“Didn’t want to stand…Where did you think we were going? A brothel?”

“Sorry. Guess I didn’t think that through.”

“We’re visiting a residential area…the victim’s home, and you look like…” He glanced at her bowed head and relented. “Tomorrow, please wear something with a little less…color.”

Her head jerked up. “But this is black.”

With one look, he quailed whatever else she’d been about to say. She nodded. “Yes, sir. Something with less…color. Jeans and a t-shirt?”

“Fine.”

She turned away from him to gaze out the window. She seemed a small, forlorn figure compared to the bubbly young woman who’d gotten into his car. Already her exotic perfume had filled the air. Eventually, he’d have to open a window. When another five minutes passed in utter silence, he sighed. “Ask your questions.”

She fastened on him, eyes hopeful again, then clicked her pen. “What is the system for investigating a murder?”

“System? That’s a misnomer if ever I heard one. There’s no system in place, and we have more than 3,000 jurisdictions in our country.”

“Sheesh! Three thousand? If everybody does it differently, how do criminals ever get caught?”

“There are basic protocols and procedures, but it will make more sense once you see it in action. Essentially, when we get there, the scene will be locked down. No one goes in or out without going on the list and no one touches anything until the entire area is photographed. That should already be in progress.” He slowed as he approached a long line of parked vehicles with flashing lights. “And here we are.” He glanced at her one last time. “Try to stay…Just write your questions and ask me later…please.”

“Yes, Detective.”

Caleb rolled down his window and a rush of cool, fresh air wafted in the car. He flashed his badge at the uniformed officer blocking their advance. “Detective Forest.”

The unie nodded and pointed. “They’re waiting for you, Detective.”

Caleb parked the car and turned to Miss Knox. “Put this on and don’t take it off.”

She reached for the lanyard he held out, slid it over her head, then lifted the plastic I.D. to study it. “Visitor. Trent City Police Department.”

With a nod, Caleb grabbed his voice recorder and camera then climbed out, not waiting to see if Miss Knox followed. When he reached the yellow taped-off line, he held up his badge again. “Detective Caleb Forest and Destiny Knox. Miss Knox, please show your driver’s license to the officer.”

The young man copied their information and allowed them to pass. Caleb clipped his badge at his waist and lifted the yellow tape for Miss Knox. Briefly, he studied the faces in the crowd, the usual nosy old lady, an elderly couple, some housewives…just who you’d expect to see home at ten in the morning. Any one of whom could be a suspect or a curious onlooker. He snapped pictures of each. From the corner of his eye, he noted Miss Knox open her mouth, but she raised her notebook instead and wrote something. He hid a smile.

Zack Pemberly strode toward him and gestured at Miss Knox, his blond brows raised in question. Caleb rolled his eyes. He was never going to live this down.

~~~

Links to UNSEEN:

Amazon USA

Amazon UK Amazon Canada

Barnes and Noble

Kobo Books

Find Felicia online:

Website: Felicia Mires | Author of Christian Romance For Any Genre

Twitter Facebook GoodReads

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Thanks for stopping! If you have a question for Felicia or just want to say hi, please leave a comment below!

Barbara

My Valentine Heartthrob

February 14, 2015 By Barbara 4 Comments

The red heart-shaped holiday has sunk its chocolate-coated fangs into Western society with a merciless bite. Men and women alike feel compelled to purchase expensive cards and gifts for the one they love or the one they hope will love them back.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy receiving gifts and cards and flowers as well as the next woman, but making these things the tipping point of a relationship is just silly. Don’t settle for faux love packaged in a little heart-shaped velvet-lined, rose-scented box of romantic gestures. Real love doesn’t come wrapped in pink paper.

One of the history stories about St. Valentine, was that he was put to death for performing marriage ceremonies for men in the military. The roman ruler had decreed that soldiers should remain single and apparently burning with rage and hormones. There was more than one St. Valentine in history, but this one is my favorite because he was romanticized for doing something that society today often makes fun of. Marriage has taken a beating in the past years.

Movies and television most often depict married men as cow-towed, beaten, overweight losers, or unfaithful middle-aged slime, constantly looking for opportunities to cheat on their wives. That leaves single, unattached, womanizing men to be the heroes of our society. They are considered, fun, cool, sexy, and they all have huge muscles, fancy cars, and never run out of money. These bad boys are what woman are supposed to crave, and never get enough of… guys who refuse to settle down and get married because that would be the end of life as they know it.

But is that romance? What’s the point of Valentine’s Day if there is no true love and the gift giving is just to satisfy a temporary desire? I want more than that… even though I really like chocolate. Thank God, I have more than that. I have a husband who loves me and shows it everyday in dozens of ways. Sometimes by bringing me flowers or presents, but most often by living out I Corinthians 13 to the best of his ability.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Marriage is meant to last forever. Love is meant to grow and weave it’s way through the hearts and souls of a man and a woman, binding them together through grief and joy, good times and bad, the ups and downs of life, until they are truly one. It’s not always hearts and roses. Some days there are bloody thorns. But when it’s real and the one you love is part of your forever, you don’t need a card company to tell you what to do. You find opportunities all along the way. Valentine’s Day is just one more gesture of love in a long line of gestures. Some as simple as a note left on a pillow or handing the television remote to your spouse for a change, making their favorite meal, or carrying a fresh cup of coffee upstairs to their office where they’re working on their newest book. Throw in a heart-shaped box of chocolates and you’ve got a heady night of sugar-induced hand-holding.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Barbara

Spotlight: Darkest Hour by Nike Chillemi

March 21, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

Today I have Nike Chillemi here to talk about her new murder mystery, Darkest Hour.

Like so many writers, Nike Chillemi started writing at a very young age. She still has the Crayola, fully illustrated book she penned (penciled might be more accurate) as a little girl about her then off-the-chart love of horses. Today, you might call her a crime fictionista. Her passion is crime fiction. She likes her bad guys really bad and her good guys smarter and better.

She is the founding board member of the Grace Awards and is its Chairman, a reader’s choice awards for excellence in Christian fiction. She writes book reviews for The Christian Pulse online magazine. She was an Inspy Awards 2010 judge and a judge in the 2011 and 2012 Carol Awards. BURNING HEARTS, the first book in the crime wave that is sweeping the south shore of Long Island in The Sanctuary Point series, finaled in the Grace Awards 2011. GOODBYE NOEL, the second book in the series won the Grace Award 2011 in the Mystery/Romantic Suspense/Thriller category. PERILOUS SHADOWS, third in the series released July, 2012, and DARKEST HOUR, the fourth in the series released in February, 2013. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and the Edgy Christian Fiction Lovers (Ning). http://nikechillemi.wordpress.com/

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Welcome to Barbara’s Thin Line Between Truth & Fiction, Nike! I’m excited to hear more about Darkest Hour, the fourth and newest addition to your Sanctuary Point series. I’ve read the first book in the series, Burning Hearts, and have the second and third, Goodbye Noel and Perilous Shadows, on my ereader. I love that they are set in 1940’s America just after WWII. That era has always intrigued me, as I think it does many people.

Barbara: Can you share with us an interesting fact that you dug up while researching your series? Something you didn’t already know and/or was intrinsic to your story?

Nike:I think one of the things that impressed me so much is how they took loving care of things they prized. How meticulous they were about preserving and protecting items of sentimental value. Whereas even with things that are very important to us, we get a warranty on it and if it’s damaged, we replace it. Things were not so disposable then. They also handed things down from generation to generation, such as the family’s fine china. Then, the younger generation was thrilled to receive these gifts. Today, many young women or young couples would groan inwardly, thinking they’re actually going to have to use the china on the next holiday to make grandma feel good.

Barbara: The women in your stories are usually single, spunky and not afraid to say what they think or get involved in the solving of a murder. Your newest heroine, Lucinda, is a young widow with a five-your-old son. How does this make her relate to the dangerous situation she’s thrust into differently than your other heroines may have?

Nike: Lucinda doesn’t shoot from the hip the way my other heroines did. She’s much more careful. The family owned and operated a charter fishing boat and she lost her husband and both her parents when the vessel sank in a storm. She’s now the sole support of her young kindergarten age son and her grandparents. She’s got a lot of responsibility resting on her shoulders. She shows her strength by competently fulfilling all of her responsibilities. She has no trouble speaking up, however, as a few of the men in the story find out.

Barbara: In Darkest Hour, Lucinda’s love interest is the medical examiner, Hank Jansen. Tell us a little something about him other than his career choice. Is he an outsider to Sanctuary Point or was he raised there?

Nike: Hank comes off like a jerk and a lady’s man, and in the beginning Lucinda doesn’t trust him and wants no part of him. Life has deeply wounded Hank and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. Except, perhaps Lucinda. He’s immediately attracted to her, but at this point in his life, he doesn’t know how to make a good impression.

Barbara: Nike, I like the way you include older parents and/or grandparents in your books and how they add richness to the heroine’s life. Often they are the stabilizing, faith-based, characters who give meaning and support to the heroine. Is there something about Lucinda’s grandparents that make them unique?

Nike: I like to capture the richness of the ethnicity in my older characters. I’ll add an accent. I’ll research the cuisine and customs of whatever country they come from. With Lucinda’s grandparents I tried to capture the poetic beauty of the Irish soul. One scene I’m particularly fond of is when the grandfather is telling Lucinda’s young son not to cry. That they’re men in this family. His wife reminds the old man they’re also Irish. The grandfather then admits to the boy that many an Irish man has wept and that there’s no shame in crying.

Thanks for sharing a bit about yourself and your book with us today, Nike! Darkest Hour sounds like a terrific murder mystery with great historical detail, realistically flawed characters and a sweet romance. What more could a reader ask for?

*Readers, if you’d like to ask Nike a question about her books or writing, leave a comment below the excerpt. Thanks!

Read on for an excerpt from the first chapter of Darkest Hour:

Sanctuary Point, NY

Lucinda Byrne backed further away from the dead body of her boss, the sides of his suit jacket wide open. Blood oozed from a hole in the center of his chest and spread over the front of his white dress shirt and yellow tie. Dark, angry red… sticky…

A baby-faced police officer snapped photographs of the body where it lay in the gravel parking lot.

Even at this hour, the day threatened to be a hot one, and the smell the body threw off intensified by the minute. She hugged herself, but couldn’t stop the trembling, then took another step back. “Someone said the medical examiner was on his way,” she mumbled to nobody in particular.

A burgundy Chevrolet sport coupe pulled into the lot. A stylish man with wavy brown hair and a tinge of gray at the temples got out. He walked toward the detective in charge and they talked.

The village detective, with a riot of salt and pepper hair beneath a fedora, jutted his chin in her direction.

The newcomer turned his face toward her. She felt small under this Dapper Dan’s scrutiny, but forced herself to stand pat and return his gaze.

He tugged at the razor like crease in his pants, looked down, and squatted beside Dr. McCloud’s body, but didn’t touch it. There was obviously no need to feel for a pulse.

The detective turned on his heel and approached her. “I’m Detective Ian Daltry, ma’am. I understand you found the body.” He took a small notebook and a fountain pen from his jacket pocket.

“Yes, I… I did.” She started to sniffle and fought it, not wanting to fall apart while being questioned.

“And Dr. McCloud is your boss?”

“Yes.”

“Both you and Dr. McCloud came into work early this morning?”

“I knew he wanted to clear up some paper work, so I came in as well.” She clasped her hands together, squeezing the fingers of one hand into the back of the other.

“Really?” His eyes narrowed.

“Yes, Detective, really. Early is fine with me, so is late. I really need my job.”

He tapped his notebook with his pen. “When you arrived this morning, did you notice a car coming into the parking lot or pulling out?”

“No, I wasn’t looking for that.” She’d had her head down as she rushed for the front door, wondering what type of mood the self-important doctor would be in. She’d keep that tidbit to herself.

The detective jotted a note. “When you got out of your car, what did you see?”

“I was walking toward the main entrance and there he was — on the ground. Blood spreading all over his shirt.” She swiped at a tear seeping from the corner of her eye.

The detective wrote in the notebook. “After you got out of your car, did you see anyone walking in or out of the hospital?”

“No one.” She looked toward the hospital to prevent the detective from seeing her lower lip trembling. A lock of shoulder-length brown hair fell into her face and she brushed it away.

He made another notation. “Nobody at all?”

“No. I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but I didn’t see anything.” The relentless yammering of her thoughts crushed her, worries that babysitting her young son might be too much for her elderly grandparents. She hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings.

“That’s about all the questions I have at this time.” He took her address and phone number. Stepped away from her, then turned back, and asked a couple more questions that made no sense to her.

She stood there staring at him as he returned to the body.

If only this morning would end. She rubbed her hands together in an attempt to quell a slight tremor.

A black coach resembling an ambulance drove into the lot. An older man in overalls pulled a collapsible gurney out of the back and raised its bed to hip level. Its chrome gleamed.

The night orderly and two nurses getting off the night shift stopped to watch.

The brown-haired man pointed to the gurney and his voice carried. “They finally allocated some funds my way. Makes transporting much easier. Oscar and I used to carry them on a stretcher. My back sure is grateful to the board of supervisors.”

The detective laughed. “Don’t you county guys have all the dough you want?”

“Who’re you kidding?”

The gurney’s wheels rumbled across the gravel parking lot. The older man pulled on the straps of his overalls.”Hank, you ready to move the body?”

The stylish man nodded. “Let’s do it.” They lifted the body onto the gurney and the man in overalls covered Dr. McCloud with a white sheet. Blood seeped through and began spreading.

Lucinda gasped, took another step back, stumbled, but managed to keep her footing. She straightened her spine. She still had to go into that building and work a full day. She had a son to support.

The detective nodded toward the body. “By the size of the hole in his chest, I’d guess he was shot with a pistol, maybe at close range. I need to have the bullet as soon as you recover it.”

“Then by all means, you’ll be my guest at the autopsy.”

“Gee, thanks.” The detective shook his head.

The debonair man chuckled, turned, and approached Lucinda.

A tremor ran down her back. More questioning, and all she wanted to do was run and hide. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the side of her index finger.

He reached into his inside pocket and offered her a folded white handkerchief. “It’s rough if you’ve never seen anything like this. I’m Hank Jansen, the medical examiner, by the way.”

Lucinda’s gaze followed the gurney to the black coach. “He was my boss.”

“You work at the hospital for Dr. McCloud?”

“Yes. I… I’m his secretary… was, I mean. And Dr. Hinsey’s too.” She couldn’t believe the doctor’s life had ended this way.

Detective Daltry barked, “Hank, can I speak with you?”

“Excuse me.” The medical examiner stepped away.

“Wait.” Lucinda quickly refolded the handkerchief and handed it back to him. She didn’t know this man. Wouldn’t begin to know how to return the white cotton cloth. “Don’t forget this.”

“Take it with you. The day’s not over. Things could still get rough.” He smiled.

“No, I can’t take your hankie.”

“Listen, I’ll pick it up the next time I’m at the hospital. You say you work for Dr. Hinsey?”

“Hank,” the detective called, impatience sharp in his tone.

“Yes, Dr. Hinsey is the head of the maternity ward. I’ll launder it and have it ready for you.”

The medical examiner nodded and smiled. “It’s a date. I mean, I’ll stop by and pick it up.” He turned and trotted toward the detective.

Lucinda slipped the handkerchief into her purse. She headed for the main entrance of the hospital, bent and picked up a fountain pen in the gravel lot.

She pivoted and advanced toward the two men.

The detective made a chopping gesture with his hand and raised his voice. “I’m not fooling, Hank. Don’t go putting another notch in your belt. She’s a witness.”

“Can’t a fellow do a simple act of kindness?”

“I’m warning you, stay away from her.” The detective spun around and nearly collided with Lucinda.

Heat rushed to her face, and she couldn’t meet either man’s gaze. If the ground would only open and swallow her. She held the pen out to Detective Daltry. “Uh…I…I’m sorry. I think you dropped this.”

~~~

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Barbara