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Steve DeWinter’s Inherit The Throne is our new Thriller of the Week Sponsor!

New Thriller of the Week Sponsor Steve DeWinter’s Inherit The Throne is here to sponsor the free mystery and thriller titles offered in our Free Kindle Book listings, below!

 

Inherit The Throne
by Steve DeWinter
3.8 stars – 25 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Living under a new identity in the tiny Northwestern tourist town at the base of Mount Hood, Melissa thought she had finally escaped her past. That is until an assassin tries to kill her and forces her back into a treacherous shadow world she vowed never to return. That same night an unmanned robotic SUV slams into the limousine of the Vice President of the United States and detonates with several hundred pounds of explosives. Melissa soon discovers that the attack on the Vice President and the attempt on her own life are related. And time is running out to find out who wants her dead and why she alone holds the key to saving the President of the United States. This is the Standard Edition. If you would like extra content such as deleted chapters and a sneek preview of the second Melissa Stone book, then you will want the Enhanced Edition. Either click the + sign next to Kindle Edition in the format section above, or search for “Inherit The Throne Enhanced”.

 


Each day’s list is sponsored by one paid title. We encourage you to support our sponsors and thank you for considering them.
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It's looking rough for Jeremy Duff to make a go of his new law practice in the former Bleake Funeral Home in Parsons, Kansas. His secretary is the gorgeous ghost of Amelia Bleake who was murdered in the funeral home in 1962. Only Jeremy can see and hear Amelia. Another problem is caused by angry...
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All she wanted was to be on the stage...Echoe lands a part in her favourite musical of all time. But almost as soon as she auditions things start to go wrong. Is it all just a coincidence, or is something more sinister going on?˃˃˃ Book BlurbChoices can change everything.As a Neeth Nymph in the...
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Echoe
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Steve O’Riley is a young cowboy, who stumbles onto the scene of a bank robbery in progress. After catching the Sheriff’s attention with his bravery and skills, he is offered the job of deputy, and shortly, he becomes the most beloved sheriff in Dakota. Yet the young sheriff’s success comes...
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The tales of the Hatchback Woman continue to twist and turn in this second collection of stories. Lines are divided between faithful followers who believe the woman's gifts help mankind and the stalkers who seek to stop her infection of the human race. As her mystery grows so do the power of her...
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Charlie has serious old girlfriend problems.The cops think retired blogger Charlie North murdered his three old girlfriends. They want to see him fry.Charlie needs to catch the killers before the cops, or the killers, catch him.Desperate, Charlie investigates the murders. He hires a stunning--and...
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The first Artemus Newton Short Story. WHIRLWIND takes place four years after ACCELERATOR and two years before EYE OF THE STORM. Artie has been retired for eight years and things finally look like they are going his way....
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More than 30 years ago when he graduated from high school, Ty Ward had planned to become a respected lawyer. That dream was shattered when Ty succumbed instead to the lure of easy money and adventure as his immense size attracted recruiters who persuaded Ty to be trained as a bodyguard in South...
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One chance encounter can change everything.Out of the blue, one rainy Tuesday in England, Erin gets a call that changes her whole world.A sizeable inheritance has been left to her by a man she met a year ago whilst waiting for a delayed flight in Bangkok Airport.Despite never having spoken since...
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After a decade working as a tough Chicago cop, Bruce Hanson has begun a successful business as a private investigator in the city. When his business starts expanding in the far West, he finds himself enjoying the rugged wilderness and small-town life of the frontier. Trouble ensues however when a...
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What would you do if you were forced to choose between your family, your profession, your beliefs, and your country, knowing whichever one you choose will be safe, but all of the others will be destroyed forever?Murder, lies, deceit, ambition, revenge, justice, and loyalty are a few of the things...
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Free Goodies — and a Chance to Win a $25 Gift Card! — for Readers Who Download MIDNIGHT FROST, the latest from Kindle Nation fave Kailin Gow!

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<div style=Kindle Nation fave author Kailin Gow is dishing out some very cool goodies to celebrate the release this week of her new novel Midnight Frost (Bitter Frost #5 of The Frost Series).
First, she is offering a signed bookmark with each order!
But that’s not all. Each reader who sends in a proof of purchase receipt via email to theedgebooks (at) yahoo (dot) com will be entered for a chance to be thrown into a drawing to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card! (You must be 18 to enter.)

No purchase necessary — if you don’t have a receipt just send a postcard to Sparklesoup Inc., 14252 Culver Dr. A732, Irvine, CA 92604 with the following info:


1) Name
2) email address
3) Address
4) Age
5) Way to contact by phone   (just in case they’re not an actual real person)


by Kailin Gow
5.0 stars – 3 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
As all the creatures of Feyland are forced into a battle that will determine who rules Feyland, a bigger force emerges that threatens all. Love, loyalty, desires, duty, and friendships will be tested. Choices will be made. Some will survive, while others will die. Midnight Frost is the pivotal book in the popular Frost Series about the beautiful, but dangerous world of Feyland and its magical and powerful inhabitants.
PRAISE FOR THE FROST SERIES
“OMG…this series just keeps getting better! I absolutely love this series.” –
Jamie, Fantasy Book Chick Blog
“This is my first novel by Kailin Gow and I promise it won’t be the last! She has a wonderful way of capturing the reader from the start and easily transports them to an interesting and fascinating world of Feyland where fairies, pixies and werewolves exist – a beautiful place where magic is normal and necessary, and a place where humans normally cannot survive.”
– Theresa, Just One More Paragraph
Includes Excerpt of the First Chapter from the new YA series, THE FIRE WARS by Kailin Gow
Read an excerpt of Midnight Frost here:

I was falling. The air tasted like snow – sharp, tart particles whipped past my face, bruising me with frost. The mountain’s peak was far above me, now – and from where I was plummeting I could see that needle-sharp point from which I had been pushed. I closed my eyes. I was dying, now, I knew – I had made that choice. For Kian. For Kian, whom I had loved – for Kian, on whom I rested all my hopes. It was up to him now. It was up to Kian to make peace, the peace that we had been working for for so long. I could feel tears trickle from in between my eyelids, squeezed tightly but not tightly enough to hold them back; I could feel them freeze on my face.

Was this dying?

I never imagined that there would be so much time between falling and landing. I never imagined that it would take so long to die. All these moments, each one stretching and slowing so that I could see in every second that kept me from the ground all the memories, long-hidden, long-forgotten, of my life thus far. I could see my mother’s laugh and my father raised up on his horse – see the childhood in Feyland I thought I had forgotten, and the childhood in Gregory, Oregon, I knew so well.

I was only eighteen years old. And already I was going to die. For Kian.

I tried to push the fear out of my mind, the beating of my heart, the terror as I kept falling. I didn’t want to look down. I didn’t want to see how much time I had left – how many feet there were still to fall. A queen wouldn’t be scared, I told myself. A queen would be strong. I had been the Summer Queen in life – now it was time to die like one.

It was time to die alone, scared, on some mountain I had never seen before (but I was only eighteen years old! And the past two years in Feyland were nothing but a dream…suddenly I was sixteen again, in high school, making poster cutouts for the Environmentalist Club and my heart ached for that unknowing childhood!) It was time to die for a love that, two years ago, I thought was only the stuff of dreams. It was time to die for a country I had never even known to be real.

No. A voice was strong and loud within me. No. I wasn’t going to die – not here, not now. I wasn’t going to give it up – not everything…not Feyland, not Gregory. I wasn’t going to die without seeing my mother again, without going back to Gregory, without walking in those woods behind the High School, without laughing in the face of Clarisse who had teased me so mercilessly. And I wasn’t going to die without saving Feyland, making peace, stopping the Pixies, the onslaught of death…

These two lives, so different – my human life and my fairy life – each flashing before me. These two lives I loved so much – I wasn’t going to give up either.

I wasn’t going to die. No – the voice within me grew angry – not when I had so much left to do. Not when there was so much ahead of me. I wasn’t going to die because some old woman with mystic powers had told me to – no, there had to be something more than that. Something more than her magic. There had to be some way – a way based in the ancient magic of love, that mysterious subject with all its primal power that the fairies so loved and feared – there had to be a way to save us both. Me and Kian – linked forever. As long as one of us lived, the other one had to live, too. I was sure of it. Kian had said once that love was the strongest, most dangerous magic there was.

Well, I was willing to face the danger. I felt the magic in me – the power of Summer, the power of my throne and crown – call out to the magic around me: to the twin suns of Feyland, to the sky and stars, to the mountains, to the earth. I could feel my body growing warm; I could feel on my face the ray of a sun I knew was not shining down upon me.

I wasn’t going to die like this – I wasn’t going to let it end. There had to be another way. I could hear a sound roaring in my ears – the sound of life, the sound of wind – a great, magnificent flapping that seemed to drown out my fear, drown out all sound but its own.

I was falling faster, now; the snow against my flesh grew bitter, and one icicle sliced across my hand.

My eyes flew open.

And then I saw my wound. Not red – not the color of human blood – but silver. The color of fairy blood.

Click on the title below to continue reading:

by Kailin Gow

(This is a sponsored post.)

Announcing the release of the latest novel in Kailin Gow’s popular FROST Series! – Midnight Frost (Bitter Frost #5 of The Frost Series) by Kailin Gow 5.0 stars – 3 Reviews

 

<%title%>” height=”270″ /></strong></div>
</div>
<div style=
by Kailin Gow
5.0 stars – 3 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
As all the creatures of Feyland are forced into a battle that will determine who rules Feyland, a bigger force emerges that threatens all. Love, loyalty, desires, duty, and friendships will be tested. Choices will be made. Some will survive, while others will die. Midnight Frost is the pivotal book in the popular Frost Series about the beautiful, but dangerous world of Feyland and its magical and powerful inhabitants.
PRAISE FOR THE FROST SERIES
“OMG…this series just keeps getting better! I absolutely love this series.” –
Jamie, Fantasy Book Chick Blog
“This is my first novel by Kailin Gow and I promise it won’t be the last! She has a wonderful way of capturing the reader from the start and easily transports them to an interesting and fascinating world of Feyland where fairies, pixies and werewolves exist – a beautiful place where magic is normal and necessary, and a place where humans normally cannot survive.”
– Theresa, Just One More Paragraph
Includes Excerpt of the First Chapter from the new YA series, THE FIRE WARS by Kailin Gow
Read an excerpt of Midnight Frost here:

I was falling. The air tasted like snow – sharp, tart particles whipped past my face, bruising me with frost. The mountain’s peak was far above me, now – and from where I was plummeting I could see that needle-sharp point from which I had been pushed. I closed my eyes. I was dying, now, I knew – I had made that choice. For Kian. For Kian, whom I had loved – for Kian, on whom I rested all my hopes. It was up to him now. It was up to Kian to make peace, the peace that we had been working for for so long. I could feel tears trickle from in between my eyelids, squeezed tightly but not tightly enough to hold them back; I could feel them freeze on my face.

Was this dying?

I never imagined that there would be so much time between falling and landing. I never imagined that it would take so long to die. All these moments, each one stretching and slowing so that I could see in every second that kept me from the ground all the memories, long-hidden, long-forgotten, of my life thus far. I could see my mother’s laugh and my father raised up on his horse – see the childhood in Feyland I thought I had forgotten, and the childhood in Gregory, Oregon, I knew so well.

I was only eighteen years old. And already I was going to die. For Kian.

I tried to push the fear out of my mind, the beating of my heart, the terror as I kept falling. I didn’t want to look down. I didn’t want to see how much time I had left – how many feet there were still to fall. A queen wouldn’t be scared, I told myself. A queen would be strong. I had been the Summer Queen in life – now it was time to die like one.

It was time to die alone, scared, on some mountain I had never seen before (but I was only eighteen years old! And the past two years in Feyland were nothing but a dream…suddenly I was sixteen again, in high school, making poster cutouts for the Environmentalist Club and my heart ached for that unknowing childhood!) It was time to die for a love that, two years ago, I thought was only the stuff of dreams. It was time to die for a country I had never even known to be real.

No. A voice was strong and loud within me. No. I wasn’t going to die – not here, not now. I wasn’t going to give it up – not everything…not Feyland, not Gregory. I wasn’t going to die without seeing my mother again, without going back to Gregory, without walking in those woods behind the High School, without laughing in the face of Clarisse who had teased me so mercilessly. And I wasn’t going to die without saving Feyland, making peace, stopping the Pixies, the onslaught of death…

These two lives, so different – my human life and my fairy life – each flashing before me. These two lives I loved so much – I wasn’t going to give up either.

I wasn’t going to die. No – the voice within me grew angry – not when I had so much left to do. Not when there was so much ahead of me. I wasn’t going to die because some old woman with mystic powers had told me to – no, there had to be something more than that. Something more than her magic. There had to be some way – a way based in the ancient magic of love, that mysterious subject with all its primal power that the fairies so loved and feared – there had to be a way to save us both. Me and Kian – linked forever. As long as one of us lived, the other one had to live, too. I was sure of it. Kian had said once that love was the strongest, most dangerous magic there was.

Well, I was willing to face the danger. I felt the magic in me – the power of Summer, the power of my throne and crown – call out to the magic around me: to the twin suns of Feyland, to the sky and stars, to the mountains, to the earth. I could feel my body growing warm; I could feel on my face the ray of a sun I knew was not shining down upon me.

I wasn’t going to die like this – I wasn’t going to let it end. There had to be another way. I could hear a sound roaring in my ears – the sound of life, the sound of wind – a great, magnificent flapping that seemed to drown out my fear, drown out all sound but its own.

I was falling faster, now; the snow against my flesh grew bitter, and one icicle sliced across my hand.

My eyes flew open.

And then I saw my wound. Not red – not the color of human blood – but silver. The color of fairy blood.

Here’s A Lengthy, Free Excerpt From Our Romance Of The Week Sponsor, Bella Andre’s From This Moment On: The Sullivans, Book 2!

Our new Romance of the Week Sponsor is Bella Andre’s From This Moment On: The Sullivans, Book 2. With an average rating of 4.6 across 13 reviews, this is one readers are really enjoying!

From This Moment On: The Sullivans, Book 2
by Bella Andre
4.6 stars – 13 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled

Here’s the set-up:
Watch another Sullivan fall in love in the second book of Bella Andre’s new contemporary romance series! With FROM THIS MOMENT ON, bestselling author Bella Andre introduces you to Marcus, the second Sullivan bad boy, whose life will never be the same from the moment he meets Nicola… For thirty-six years, Marcus Sullivan has been the responsible older brother, stepping in to take care of his seven siblings after their father died when they were children. But when the perfectly ordered future he’s planned for himself turns out to be nothing but a lie, Marcus needs one reckless night to shake free from it all.Nicola Harding is known throughout the world by only one name – Nico – for her catchy, sensual pop songs. Only, what no one knows about the twenty-five year old singer is that her sex-kitten image is totally false. After a terrible betrayal by a man who loved fame far more than he ever loved her, she vows not to let anyone else get close enough to find out who she really is…or hurt her again. Especially not the gorgeous stranger she meets at a nightclub, even though the hunger – and the sinful promises – in his dark eyes make her want to spill all her secrets.One night is all Nicola and Marcus agree to share with each other. But nothing goes as they plan when instead of simply tangling limbs, they find a deeper connection than either of them could have anticipated. And even though they both try to fight it, growing emotions – and sizzling attraction – keep drawing them closer together.Close enough for them to wonder if stealing one more secret moment together can ever be enough?

 

 

See if you agree with the reviews so far – check out this free excerpt from From This Moment On by Bella Andre:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Marcus Sullivan was a man on a mission.

 

Twenty minutes ago he’d left his brother’s engagement party and headed straight for the belly of San Francisco’s seedy Mission district. Dance music pounded out into the street, loud enough that the crowds waiting in line were already dancing.

 

Leather and piercings, tattoos and fluorescent hair weren’t part of Marcus’s usual crowd. But the men and women in line with earrings through their noses and eyebrows looked happy, at least.

 

Marcus was planning on being a hell of a lot happier in a couple of hours.

 

He walked past the long line and despite the fact that he was wearing a suit and tie, the bouncer took one look at him and opened up the latch on the rope to let him in. Marcus was a large man, and although he didn’t often use his size to intimidate people, he wasn’t averse to using whatever tools he had at his disposal when he needed them.

 

The beat throbbed through him as he stepped through the black doorway into the crowded club, but the loud music, the shaking lights, didn’t come close to obliterating his thoughts.

 

That wasn’t why he was here. He wasn’t here to forget what he’d seen.

 

No, he didn’t want to forget, wouldn’t let himself make that mistake again.

 

Marcus was here to make up for two wasted years. Twenty-four months ago, he’d met Jill in the city on a hot August night at a charity event her firm was hosting. As soon as he’d set eyes on her cool blonde beauty, he knew he’d found the missing puzzle piece in his otherwise well-ordered life. In Jill, he’d seen his future: marriage, kids, estate dinners at his winery with the perfect wife by his side.

 

Only, as he’d learned that afternoon, it hadn’t been perfect at all…

 

 

Marcus could hear moaning even as he turned his key in the lock to Jill’s apartment. It could have been a movie turned up too loud for the dirty parts, but Marcus knew better-had known better for months, if he was being honest with himself.

 

He pushed open the door and moved through his girlfriend’s apartment, the moaning growing louder with every step he took.

 

“Oooh, that’s it! Right there! Just like that!”

 

Jill had always been a screamer in bed, but he’d never realized just how false it sounded until now, when he was getting a taste of her show from the cheap seats.

 

His hands tightened into fists as he turned through her kitchen and headed down the hall to her master bedroom.

 

He’d long ago asked her to move up to Napa to live at his winery with him, but she’d always had a reason to put it off. The latest was that her current apartment was a rare find barely a block away from her financial planning company with its frequent 4:40 a.m. wake-up calls. She told him he could stay over whenever he wanted.

 

Marcus had never felt at home in her apartment, everything a cold shade of white, mirrored and glass surfaces that smudged at the slightest touch. But he’d wanted a future with her and he’d assumed making good on that future meant bending, compromising.

 

How many weekends had he come to the city to see Jill when it suited her? How many times had he changed his entire schedule on less than a moment’s notice to be there for her when she needed him?

 

Too many times.

 

But never, not once, had he ever walked in on a live porn show, starring his girlfriend.

 

She was riding the guy like he was a bucking bronco and she was the star rodeo rider.

 

He saw the naked skin and limbs-hell, he couldn’t miss them from the bedroom door-but it was as if he were watching them from a clinical distance. Like a triple-X cable channel that had accidentally flipped on in a hotel when he wasn’t in the mood.

 

“What the hell?” The guy under his girlfriend looked at Marcus with alarm. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting anyone to walk in.

 

That was when Jill shifted slightly to look over her shoulder at him. Her eyes widened in what was supposed to be surprise. But he knew her well enough to see through it. At least he’d thought he’d known her.

 

How much of their relationship had been a lie?

 

Jill moved to pull a sheet over her and her lover. Marcus watched them slide apart, watched the guy reach over the side of the bed to pull on his jeans. “I’ll get out of here,” the guy said, but Jill held his hand and made him stay on the bed.

 

“No, Rocco, you don’t need to leave.”

 

Rocco? His classically beautiful girlfriend, the woman he’d been planning to marry and start a family with, the women he’d planned to share the helm of Sullivan Vineyards with, was doing a guy named Rocco with a nasty-looking goatee and piercings? It had to be some sort of sick joke.

 

The guy looked between Jill and Marcus, going a little white as his gaze lingered on Marcus’s fists and the way his shoulders took up the bulk of the doorway.

 

Jill dropped the sheet and slid on a silk robe that had been draped over a chair in the corner of her room. She moved toward Marcus. “We should go talk in the living room.”

 

Somehow she slipped past without touching him, but Marcus could smell sex on her. He could smell some other guy on her.

 

He wanted to pound his fist into the guy’s face. But Jill had engineered this. Start to finish.

 

He’d deal with her, instead.

 

Marcus moved back through the hallway to the living room where Jill was waiting for him.

She didn’t look guilty. And, for the first time, he didn’t think she looked beautiful, either. Yes, she was still classically pretty, tall and slim…but there was an ugliness stamped across her face that he’d never let himself see before.

 

“I’m in love with Rocco.”

 

As apologies went, it sucked.

 

In his silence, she continued with a defensive, “You and I both know our relationship wasn’t going anywhere.”

 

Finally, his response came. “You said you needed time. I gave you time, enough time to screw around on me. With Rocco.”

 

Jill’s eyes widened at the barely repressed fury in his voice. He’d never spoken to her like that before, had never been the kind of man who raised his voice to make a point, who opted to be a bully to get his way. He’d gotten where he was by working hard and being smart and reasonable, with some Sullivan charm thrown in when he needed it.

 

“Look,” she said with an irritated sigh as if he was to blame for the mess they were in, “this thing between us, it was good for a while, but if we’d really been in love we would be married by now.”

 

He raised an eyebrow and called her on it. “You know I wanted to get married.”

 

She shook her head. “If you really wanted to marry me, you would have swept me off my feet and I wouldn’t have been able to resist. But you were always so busy with your brothers and sisters, always busy helping your mother with something.” Finally being honest, she said, “I tried to love you, Marcus. I really did. But I want something more. Something bigger. Something exciting. I want someone who puts me first.” Her eyes lit as she said, “I want what I have with Rocco. Not to sit by your side and wear pearls at your winery events. And not to always be last place in your life.”

 

Marcus stared at the woman he’d assumed would be his wife, the mother to his children, the pearl necklace he’d given her still on her neck, the only thing she’d had on while she’d been fucking another man.

 

He still wanted to drive his fist into Rocco’s face. He also wanted to rip the pearls off Jill’s neck and watch them scatter all over the floor.

 

Instead, he said, “I’ll send my assistant for my things next week. She’ll contact you to arrange a convenient time.”

 

“See?” Jill came at him now, her finger pointed at his chest, her robe gaping open across her chest.

 

He’d once loved her small breasts, thought they were just as classically beautiful as the rest of her. Now, they did nothing for him. Less than nothing.

 

“This is why I can’t be with you. Where are your emotions? Where is your passion? I swear you care more about your damn grapes than you do for me. And I sure as hell know you care more about your damn brothers and sisters than me. This is your chance, Marcus! Don’t you see, if you leave now, if you can’t tell me that you’ll at least try to put me first, you’ll lose me forever?”

 

That was when he realized that despite his anger, despite his fury at her cheating, he didn’t want to fight for Jill.

 

It had taken Marcus two years to realize that he didn’t actually love her.

 

He’d simply loved the idea of her.

 

“Goodbye, Jill.”

 

 

The song switched from a hard-driving beat to a slower melody and rhythm as Marcus resurfaced from his dark memories. He had planned to pick up Jill for Chase and Chloe’s engagement party earlier that evening, but he’d gone alone. What an idiot he’d been, waiting two years for Jill to make up her mind. Waiting for her to be “ready” to commit all the way to him and the life he envisioned for them.

 

Marcus knew love existed. He’d seen it between his mother and father. He saw it in every look Chase gave Chloe, in every touch between his brother and his new fiancée.

 

Still, that didn’t mean Marcus was up to trying for it again anytime soon. A good long break from emotion was what he needed. From his plans. One day he still hoped he’d find a woman who would make him a good wife, a good partner, a good mother to the children he wanted.

 

But not right now-or for the foreseeable future.

 

Tonight, he was only in it for pleasure. For a long night of mindless, emotionless sex with someone who didn’t want to know his hopes, his dreams. A woman who didn’t want to know about his family any more than he wanted to know about hers. A woman who simply wanted to go back to a hotel and fuck his brains out. Hell, if neither of them even learned each other’s names, that would be perfectly fine with him.

 

Couples ground against each other in the dark space where sweat and alcohol and sex were all coming together. Marcus moved deeper into the darkness to stand on a rise overlooking the dance floor and scanned the crowd with a clinical eye.

 

* * *

 

Nicola Harding stood in the window of her penthouse suite looking down on San Francisco’s Union Square and watched the people walking below.

 

She was young and single. She should be out there with them. Six months ago, she would have been eating dinner at some glitzy restaurant, surrounded by people who were flattering her and trying to make her laugh, trying to make her like them. But she’d learned the hard way that it wasn’t her they were interested in.

 

Nicola Harding, who liked Monopoly and building sand castles, was an inconsequential nobody. They all wanted a piece of Nico. They wanted to say they’d hung out with a pop star. They wanted to take pictures of her on their cell phones to text to their friends.

 

She stepped away from the window and turned back to the huge suite.

 

It was too big for one person, but her record label thought putting her up in a place like this for a video shoot and concert was treating her right. No one would ever know how alone she felt, one small person in an oversized suite that could have housed her entire family with room to spare.

 

And the truth was, if she were a stranger reading her press, she certainly would never come up with the word alone to describe herself. Party girl would be closer. Because, somehow, every single event found her photographed with another famous man. She’d wake up in the morning and turn on her computer to learn that she was systematically screwing her way through not only the Top 40 charts, but through Hollywood, too.

 

Her record label and PR people and management team had told her “any press is good press” enough times that she’d stopped protesting her innocence to them. Besides, she knew they didn’t believe her, not after seeing the pictures that had leaked over the holidays last year-horrible pictures that still seemed to turn up whenever she thought they were finally buried.

 

After working nearly twenty-four hours a day for years to try to get people to listen to her music, she’d been overjoyed to see her work pay off with her first number one hit last summer. Although everyone had warned her that the business would chew her up and spit her out if she wasn’t careful, she’d believed it was different for her, that she was smart enough to surround herself with good people.

 

Until the day she trusted the wrong one.

 

Kenny had been so charming, so sweet at first, that she’d fallen for him hook, line, and sinker. But he’d used emotions like barter and she’d soon realized the only way to keep him happy-and to be sure he still loved her-was to give in to some of the things he wanted her to try.

 

Stupid girl.

 

A thousand times since then-no, more like a million-she’d asked herself how she could have been so naive. Naive enough that when he’d sold his story of wild nights with the pop star, complete with pictures that he’d been secretly taking of her on his cell phone, she’d actually been shocked.

 

Well, she’d learned her lesson. Big time.

 

She would never again trust that easily, especially good-looking, charming men.

 

Nicola caught a glance of herself in sweatpants and a tank top in the full-length mirror on the living room wall. Some party girl she was. After a grueling day of rehearsing dance moves for the video they would be shooting on Friday, her big plans included watching a Laverne & Shirley marathon on cable under the covers.

 

The doorbell rang and she realized she’d forgotten about the ice cream she’d ordered from room service. On a night like this, she simply didn’t have the energy to care that the hotel staff member would see her without any makeup on and immediately get on Twitter and tell the world about it.

 

No question about it, chocolate ice cream was her last hope tonight.

 

She opened the door. “Hi.”

 

The guy looked at her, then actually looked over her shoulder for the real Nico. Finally, he looked back at her, his features twisting toward recognition as he stared. “I’ve got your room service, Nico.”

 

She stepped aside so that he could wheel in the big tray, even though she could easily have just picked up the container on top.

 

“It’s just the brand you asked for. A quart of it.”

 

“Thanks.” She took the pen he handed her to sign the room tab and felt, like laser beams, the guy’s eyes on her butt in the snug sweatpants. She’d been feeling those eyes from one guy or another for the past ten years, ever since she’d woken up one morning with breasts and hips.

She didn’t even mind the leering. What she minded were the assumptions that came with it, that just because she had the T&A that guys drooled over, it meant she was going to hop into bed with them indiscriminately.

 

She wasn’t a slut, no matter what the world thought.

 

She went to hand him back the pen, but he was too busy ogling her chest to notice.

 

Nicola always made it a point to be nice to the staff anywhere she was staying. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d been waiting tables and cleaning hotel rooms while she waited to be “discovered.”

 

Tonight, she was all out of nice.

 

“Here.” She jammed the pen into the guy’s palm, then went to the door and held it open for him.

 

He moved slowly toward it and she was counting the seconds until he was gone when he said, “You all alone tonight?”

 

Seriously? She had to deal with this just to get some ice cream?

 

“I’ve got plans already, thanks.” He nodded, but she didn’t like what she saw in his eyes.

 

“My boyfriend will be up in a minute,” she lied.

 

“Well, if you’re looking for company later…”

 

He was across the threshold by then and she didn’t hesitate to slam the door in his face.

 

After bolting it, she muttered, “Jerk.”

 

The ice cream container was starting to sweat on the big silver cart, but she wasn’t in the mood for it anymore.

 

It wasn’t fair. The whole world thought she was a total slut when the truth was that she’d had sex with a grand total of two guys. Brad from twelfth grade in the backseat of his dad’s car. And then Kenny, because she’d thought they loved each other.

 

Even worse, neither of her previous lovers had been all that great. Brad, she could forgive, because it had been the first time for both of them and their location had been terrible. But Kenny, she’d finally realized, simply hadn’t cared about making her feel good. He’d been all about himself the entire time and she’d only fed into it by constantly trying to please him so that he’d love her more.

 

At least if she’d ever had anything approaching real pleasure, maybe she wouldn’t be so bitter about her reputation. Maybe then she could just own it. Maybe then she would actually feel like the sexy woman she portrayed on her album covers and music videos. Maybe then she wouldn’t have made her choreographer, Lori, stay so long with her tonight, long past when she should have let the woman leave for her brother’s engagement party.

 

All of a sudden, a crazy impulse hit her square in her solar plexus: since she was never going to shake off her reputation, what if she went out to earn it instead?

 

Nicola had always been impulsive, from the time she was a little girl. Her report cards said the same thing, year after year: “Nicola is a bright girl, but she often acts without thinking.”

 

Okay, she thought as she tossed various articles of clothing onto the bed and tried to figure out just the right look for what she wanted to accomplish tonight, so she’d learned her lesson about trusting jerks. And, of course, one day she wanted love. Real love. True love.

But she was tired of living like a nun, sick of trying to constantly convince everyone that she wasn’t a wild party girl, when they all thought she was anyway.

 

For just one night she wanted to know what all the fuss was about. She wanted to find a man to share her passions with, a real man who was experienced enough to take her to a place she’d never been before.

 

Her heart beat hard as she stripped off her sweatpants and tank top and slipped into a short, strapless leather dress. One wrong move in any direction and the T&A she was so famous for would be popping out for the entire world to see.

 

But, suddenly, Nicola didn’t care anymore. Anything was better than this bone-deep loneliness.

 

So she’d end up on the cover of another tabloid magazine. Big whoop. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. And she’d survived.

 

Mostly, anyway.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Marcus was known for his patience. After helping to raise his seven siblings, he’d learned to wait out tantrums, fistfights, even tears.

 

Tonight, he was all out of patience.

 

He’d been watching the dancers for long enough to know that he wasn’t going to take a single one of them to bed. None of the women who’d walked in through the thick red curtain in the past thirty minutes had been contenders, either.

 

Until, suddenly, the curtain parted…and she walked in.

 

Marcus felt like a fist had slammed straight into his gut.

 

The woman was young, mid-twenties probably, and so damn beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. Her black leather dress left nothing to his imagination, fitting her like a second skin with wide cut-outs that ran down the side of her insane curves.

 

She was the one.

 

As she stood in the doorway and slowly scanned the crowd, every eye in the room was on her. She was magnetic, had that special something that made it impossible to pull your eyes away from her.

 

And then her eyes met his, illuminated by a beam of light in the dark room, and although Marcus hadn’t drunk nearly enough at Chase’s engagement party to be unsteady on his feet, one look at those clear blue eyes had him fighting for balance.

 

What the hell was wrong with him?

 

He needed to remember, at all times, what tonight was about. Sex. Pleasure. Not emotion. Not a relationship. It was okay for certain parts of his body below the waist to react like a match had been lit from nothing more than looking at the woman. Everything else was off-limits. He wasn’t looking for a woman to respect.

 

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to fall in love.

 

Marcus let his gaze move back down the woman’s barely-there leather dress. It didn’t look like respect was going to be much of an issue.

 

The dangerous curves began to shift beneath the thin layer of leather and he realized she was moving. Straight toward him, never once breaking stride, even in impossibly high heels.

 

Marcus lifted his eyes from her made-for-sex body and couldn’t miss the challenge in her gaze, a look that asked if he was man enough to handle her.

 

He’d come here tonight to find a woman, to proposition her, to claim her for one no-holds-barred night. Looked like he was the one who was about to be propositioned, instead.

 

He’d always liked his women tall and slim, not barely coming up to his chest like this one.

 

A voice in his head told him she was way too young for him, young enough that if this were any other night, he’d walk away from her now. If things had gone as he’d planned for the past two years, he wouldn’t even be here.

 

But he was.

 

And he wasn’t planning on walking away from whatever this woman offered. Not until first light.

 

Definitely not until he’d had his fill of those curves.

 

* * *

 

My God, he was beautiful.

 

Talk about big and strong-if this guy’s broad shoulders and gorgeous face weren’t enough, he stood out from the rest of the scummy crowd in his pressed shirt and slacks, clearly not giving a damn that he was different from them all.

 

He was the one.

 

The hassle of getting inside with all of the people clamoring to take pictures and have her sign autographs for them had almost been enough to make her hop back into the taxi and go hide out in her hotel again. What had she been thinking, coming out to a club to find a man? Especially when she knew darn well that pictures of her and the guy would surface on the Internet within hours.

 

But she hadn’t known where else to look, hadn’t been able to think of anywhere else to go. And she just didn’t care about the price of fame tonight, about the inevitable ramifications of what she was doing. Not when a long, lonely night was all that waited for her in her hotel suite if she turned tail and ran.

 

Beyond thankful that she hadn’t chickened out at the last second, Nicola was practically licking her lips as she approached him.

 

It was pure instinct to try and make herself look more attractive to him. She’d swayed her hips that extra little bit. Yes, she often silently bemoaned having to use her sexuality to get things out of people, but darn it, when it worked this well, what was a girl to do?

 

And she really wanted tonight to work out. Especially now that she’d finally seen a man she absolutely had to have.

 

She waited for him to say her name, for that flicker of recognition to rise in his eyes. But when neither happened after several long seconds, it finally occurred to her that he might not know who she was.

 

Or, she thought with the cynicism that had taken root deep within her, maybe he was just faking it because he thought it would pique her interest in him if he seemed aloof.

 

“Hi, I’m Nicola.” Her real name popped out before she realized it. She hadn’t gone by anything but Nico for so long with anyone but her parents that the name felt strange on her tongue.

 

Kind of good, too, though.

 

She waited for him to correct her, to be surprised that she hadn’t introduced herself as

Nico. Instead, he simply repeated her name.

 

“Nicola.”

 

His low, rough voice had her shivering, thrill bumps actually rising on her arms despite the swampy heat of the club from all the moving bodies.

 

She studied him for long enough to confirm that there wasn’t a shred of awareness in his dark brown eyes. Nothing at all that resembled the way the guy at the hotel had looked at her, like he was dying to say he’d done a big star.

 

Had she actually run into the one person on earth who had no idea who she was?

 

It felt too lucky to be true.

 

Of course, her luck would only hold out so long in a public place. From the moment she’d walked in, everyone’s eyes had been on her-and now the two of them. Normally, she wouldn’t care. She was used to staring.

 

But she suddenly wanted more than just a night of hot sex with a gorgeous guy.

 

She wanted to experience it as Nicola. Not Nico. Which meant she needed to get them out of there as soon as possible, before anyone came up and asked for an autograph or a picture with her.

 

“I’m not in the mood to dance tonight,” she began, before realizing, “I don’t know your name.”

 

She liked the way he reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, liked it even more when he said, “My name is Marcus. And I’m not in the mood to dance, either.”

 

She supposed there were lots of things they could both say to each other. Things like, Should we get out of here? or Why don’t we go back to my hotel? But, amazingly, Nicola realized those words, those questions and answers, weren’t necessary.

 

Everything they’d needed to say to each other had already been said.

 

In one look.

 

In one touch.

 

Her skin burned where he’d touched her, his fingertips rougher than she’d thought they would be, given his clothes. She’d felt calluses and strength in that one brush across her skin. The thought of being touched like that-with those hands-on even more sensitive parts of her body had heat blooming inside of her in places that never usually got that hot.

 

Following the instinct that had brought her this far, Nicola turned without another word and began to move back to the door through which she’d just entered. A moment later, Marcus’s large, warm hand was on the small of her back as he followed her. She often traveled to events with her bodyguard, a man who was even bigger than Marcus. But she’d never felt so safe, so protected.

 

And never this tingly, head to toe.

 

The sizzling warmth from the spot on her lower back where he was holding his hand against her quickly spread down her hips and across to her stomach and breasts.

 

The music was still playing, louder than before, perhaps, but all she could hear was the beating of her own heart. All she knew was that she wanted this night with Marcus more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time.

 

In the back of her mind she knew that what she was doing was stupid, not just because of the pictures that would surface of her with a “mystery man,” but because she shouldn’t be leaving a club with a man she knew nothing whatsoever about. For all she knew, he was a sadistic murderer out trolling for his next decapitation victim. But the way he was touching her, so carefully and yet with such assurance-along with the way he’d gently stroked her face-made her want to trust her initial instincts about him.

 

Fortunately, just as a group of people started pointing at her and talking excitedly, a taxi pulled up. Marcus opened the door for her and she let her hair fall in front of her face to hide her profile from the driver, just in case he took one look at her and blew her cover as a regular person.

 

Her gut churned as she slid inside, then tightened down hard as her soon-to-be-lover joined her on the ripped leather seat and she realized just how big he really was. Compared to most of the anorexic singers and actresses she knew, Nicola had never felt tiny before. But sitting next to Marcus made her feel shockingly small and feminine.

 

He was so big, had so much presence, she swore there wasn’t enough oxygen left in the car for her and the driver to pull from.

 

“Where to?” the driver asked, giving them a blank look in the rearview mirror.

 

The stranger’s voice broke the spell that had pulled her toward Marcus from that first glance.

 

Oh God, what she was doing?

 

Yes, she wanted him. Desperately.

 

Yes, she was lonely. Terribly.

 

But neither of those things were enough reason to act like an idiot or to put herself in a dangerous position. After all, look what had happened when she’d trusted her instincts with Kenny. What he’d done hadn’t only hurt her, it had ended up hurting her family, too. She could still hardly believe her mother had lost her position on the school board, that the community had dared to accuse her of not being a good role model for the other parents because she’d obviously made huge mistakes in teaching her own daughter right from wrong.

 

Nicola put her hand on the door handle, readying herself to escape out the other side. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I don’t know you.”

 

He didn’t try to stop her, didn’t put a hand on her to keep her from opening the door. Instead, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.

 

“Call anyone in here.”

 

Unable to believe what he was offering, she left the door ajar an inch. “Seriously?”

 

“Call them all if you have to. Ask them about me. Ask them anything.”

 

Surely he was kidding around. Who did something like this? Just handed over their cell phone and said to call any number on it to do a background check on him?

 

“You really want me to surprise dial someone in your address book and say, ‘Hey there, I’m some girl your friend Marcus is leaving a club with. Could you tell me all about him, please?'”

 

“I want you to feel safe with me tonight, Nicola.”

 

God, every time he said her name, she got the shivers. What would it be like to be lying beneath him, naked and filled with him while he said it?

 

Oh, how she wanted to find out.

 

The taxi driver cleared his throat and looked pointedly at them in his rearview mirror, but Marcus clearly had no intention of being rushed.

 

Before she could reconsider, she took the phone and dialed the most recently called person, someone named Mary. It was probably his wife, Nicola thought cynically as the number rang a handful of times.

 

After several rings, a woman picked up. “Marcus, I wish you hadn’t left the party without saying goodbye.”

 

Surprised at a voice that clearly belonged to an older woman rather than a lover waiting for Marcus to come over and do her later tonight, Nicola finally said, “Um…hi. This isn’t Marcus. He-”

 

She felt like an idiot sitting in the back of a cab trying to find the right words to say to a complete stranger. All while Marcus watched her with those dark eyes.

 

“He just gave me his phone and said I could call you.”

 

There was a brief moment of silence before the woman she’d just dialed said, “Is my son all right?”

 

His mother? That was the last person he’d called before coming to the club?

 

Nicola was stunned silent for a moment, before realizing she needed to reassure his mother. “Yes, he’s fine. Perfectly fine.”

 

Marcus was leaning back against the seat, his arms folded across his chest as he watched her fumble through this unexpected conversation.

 

All these years, she’d never met anyone else who spoke with their parents as much as she did. Especially not a man, probably because they thought it made them seem less masculine.

 

Nicola found herself reacting in exactly the opposite way. A man who loved his mother won a lot of points in her book, and instead of seeing Marcus as less sexy, or as some kind of mama’s boy, a glimmer of respect began to form for the beautiful stranger sitting beside her.

“Good,” his mother said with obvious relief. “I’m glad he’s fine.”

 

Nicola knew she should simply apologize for bothering the woman and disconnect. Instead, she found herself saying, “Mary, can I ask you a question about your son?”

 

She could have sworn she heard a smile across the line from this ridiculously patient woman who, for all Nicola knew, got calls like this every Friday night from the girls Marcus picked up to fool around with.

 

“Yes, you may, although I’d very much like to know who I’m speaking with.”

 

“Oh. Sorry. My name is Nicola.” For the second time in one night, she was getting to be the girl she used to be, rather than the pop star she’d been playing for the past several years.

 

“Nicola is a lovely name.”

 

“Thank you.” Nicola tried to regain her bearings, but it was really difficult to do with Marcus looking down at her with his eyes never once leaving her face.

 

“What would you like to know about Marcus, Nicola?”

 

Oh God, she shouldn’t be asking his mother a question like this, but if she hung up now she’d only be left with doubts. Doubts she didn’t want to have if she and Marcus were going to be alone together and naked in a hotel room in a little while.

 

She looked up into his eyes and held his dark gaze as she said, “Will I be safe with him?”

 

“Oh,” his mother said, “well, that’s certainly an unexpected question.”

 

Nicola could feel her hand trembling slightly as she held the phone up against her ear. “Why is that a strange question?”

 

“Marcus is my oldest son,” his mother gently explained. “He helped me take care of his brothers and sisters when my husband passed away many years ago. I love all of my children, but without a doubt, he is one of the most trustworthy men I’ve ever known.”

 

Nicola’s heart shouldn’t have swelled at his mother’s words. She shouldn’t have cared that the man sitting next to her was a good son, a good older brother. All that should have mattered was that she was physically safe with him and that he wouldn’t dare hurt her now that she’d spoken with his mother and alerted her to what was about to go down.

 

And yet, she couldn’t manage to pull her gaze away from his-or stop herself from feeling any of those things-as she said, “Thank you for telling me that.”

 

“It was my pleasure, Nicola.”

 

“I’m sorry I bothered you so late,” she said suddenly, hating that she’d worried his mother with her out-of-the-blue call.

 

“It’s no problem at all, although I would love to speak with Marcus for a moment.”

 

“I’ll give him the phone right now, Mary. And thank you.” Nicola held the phone out, hardly able to believe she was saying, “Your mother wants to speak with you.”

 

This night wasn’t going at all the way she’d thought it would. Well, the meeting a ridiculously gorgeous guy in a club part was right on track, but talking to his mom to be reassured that she wasn’t going to end the night in a body bag…that just didn’t happen in her world. In anyone’s world, actually.

 

The conversation with his mother made her feel almost as if she’d met him at some family gathering, rather than at a seedy club downtown.

 

She watched him listen to whatever his mother was saying. A slight frown moved across his face before he said, “Yes, tonight. Before the party,” and then, “Don’t worry, I will. Good night.”

 

He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Do you feel better now?”

 

“Your mom seems really nice,” she said, rather than answer the question that suddenly seemed a thousand times more loaded than it had ten minutes ago, especially after the awkward phone call she’d just made to his mother. She shifted on the seat. Too late, she realized her short leather dress had ridden up nearly high enough to flash Marcus a big huge chunk of bare thigh.

“She’s great,” he told her, even as his eyes moved to the skin he couldn’t possibly miss, then back up to her face.

 

His jaw was tight, his expression full of desire…and something else she couldn’t quite decipher. It was, she finally decided, almost as if he was warring with himself over wanting her.

Just as she was warring with herself over wanting him.

 

The taxi driver interrupted them. “Are you going or not?”

 

Marcus looked at her. “Nicola?”

 

If he’d said her name differently, if there’d been any pressure, any demands behind it, she might still have said no and gotten the heck out of there.

 

But his question was gentle enough to have her suddenly making up her mind. “I do feel better. Much better. I’m ready to go with you now.” She’d always been a tactile person and without thinking, she put her hand on his arm to emphasize her words. His hard-and big!-biceps twitched beneath her fingertips and she jumped. But before she could pull away, he covered her hand with his.

 

Oh God, what was she doing? What made her think she could actually do this? What made her think she could go home with a total stranger?

 

Maybe if she’d had more experience with men she could have rolled with it better. But she couldn’t even handle touching his arm, for God’s sake! How was she possibly going to deal with seeing him naked?

 

Or touching him in other, much more intimate places?

 

Nicola belatedly realized Marcus was lightly stroking her hand with his fingers, as if she was a wild animal that needed to be calmed before it bolted. After only a handshake, and now this gentle caressing, she wasn’t sure he could ever touch her in a way that didn’t send her cells into Jell-O overdrive. And yet, at the same time, his gentle caresses were incredibly soothing.

Each stroke of his fingers over hers seemed to say, I understand that you’re nervous and that’s okay. I’m going to take good care of you tonight. Just as I didn’t rush you to make a decision to leave with me in the cab, I’m not going to rush you into anything you’re not ready for in bed, either.

 

Slowly relaxing again, she let herself scoot a little closer to him, close enough that it was pure instinct to lean her head against his broad shoulder. This time, she felt him tense beneath her touch. But before she could freak out about doing the wrong thing, he was wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in tighter.

 

Her body wanted to be close to his so badly that without any conscious thought or planning, she found herself turning so that her cheek was laid against his chest, the steady beat of his heart sounding against her ear. Nicola found herself smiling against his chest at the intimacy inherent in the way he’d pulled her closer on a groan of obvious need.

 

Intimate. Why did she keep thinking that word?

 

He was a stranger. This was going to be a night full of fun, hot sex. Nothing more.

 

A part of her wanted to ask him about his mother, to find out how many siblings he had, but she knew better, knew she had to tamp down that desire. Tonight was about a physical hookup. Not an emotional one. Hopefully, if things went really well, she’d finally experience the hot sex she’d never had before. Besides, if she sat here and quizzed him on his family, all the sizzle was bound to go out of their initial connection.

 

As the driver slowly wound through city traffic toward the address Marcus had given, Nicola silently counseled herself to remember to keep her boundaries in place during the next few hours. No matter how good sex with Marcus ended up being-and she could already tell just from the way he held her in his arms in the back of the cab that it had the potential to be great-she couldn’t make the mistake of connecting pleasure with love.

 

She didn’t know Marcus. He didn’t know her. As long as they made sure to keep things totally on the surface and all about pleasure, one night shouldn’t affect their futures.

 

Only, the truth she didn’t want to admit was that she already felt affected, simply by how good, how warm, how safe, she felt in the circle of his arms.

 

What, she found herself wondering, would it be like to have a man in my life who would be there to hold me like this every night?

Click here to download From This Moment On: The Sullivans, Book 2

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Chapter One

 

One word bled through the folded page when Lauren pulled it from the envelope. “Mensa,” she murmured. She had always believed that a person testing in the top two percent of intelligence scores was a genius. Now she didn’t.

 

“Well, go ahead and open it,” her sister, Angie, said, stomping a high-heeled boot. Red clay slopped off the ornately tooled leather and onto Lauren’s white bamboo floor.

 

Lauren cocked her head, twisting a strand of hair into a painful rope when the anticipated “Welcome” message did not appear. Those Mensans did say she passed after all, but maybe they’d made a clerical error. Beneath the MENSA letterhead lay a series of dark random dots.

“What is it? Yuck.” Angie leaned a wooly head in front of the letter, blocking her view.

 

“I don’t know.” Lauren moved the document back into her line of sight. The scattered blotches were a strange reddish-sepia tone. She shook her head. If she didn’t know better, she would think these drops were…”Dried blood?”

 

Angie pushed closer, reached out toward the page, and then yanked her hand back without touching it.

 

Using an index finger, Lauren smudged one orb the size of a dried pea. It cracked. She rubbed the tainted hand over her blue jeans, and then turned the page over for an explanation. Six hangmen with X’s for eyes had been drawn there using the same fluid.

 

Above the hangmen game, a spidery script read SIX GUESSES EACH. A short word blank was associated with each stick-figure man. In the last word blank, the number 131,313 was scratched in needle-thin print, filling in the blanks with the odd rusty ink.

 

“I’m good at hangman, you know,” Angie said, whipping a pen out of her purse with a magician’s finesse.

 

“Right. I know.”

 

On a piece of junk mail lying on the kitchen table, Lauren jotted their hangmen solutions one by one above the number. The words came too easily: “hated lit set un I’m 131,313.” The hair prickled across her skin, feeling like the legs of a scrambling scorpion. Rubbing her arms, she felt the answer lurking.

 

Angie’s bronze face blanched. “Oh no. It’s about the Devil.”

 

“We’ll see.” Grasping the paper, Lauren held it next to the Tuscan globe that hung above her dinette. She detected something in the ginger hues. A watermark. Squinting, she muttered, “Georgia Pacific.” She gazed out her condo’s bay window at the rolling postal truck, wondering whether the document might hold a message of significance. “Let’s try the computer.”

 

The scent of holiday cinnamon welcomed her into a polished oak-filled office. She’d thrown a Christmas centerpiece in there, trying to make the place feel homey.

 

“Look.” Angie pointed as they walked in. The computer paper box was labeled “Georgia Pacific.”

 

“Maybe the hangman solutions are a palindrome.” Lauren pulled out a blank sheet, lay it on the computer desk, and began writing the numbers and letters in backward sequence. The words ‘set, un and I’m’ became ‘minutes.’ “That works.” She read the reverse phrase ‘313131 minutes ’til detah.’ ‘Detah?’ An anagram in a palindrome? She glanced at her sister. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing? 313,131 minutes ’til death?”

 

“Call the police,” Angie said, her pupils spreading in shining cobalt pools.

Lauren massaged her forehead. “No. I bet it’s related to that Mensa murder mystery event they’re holding at the Crescent Moon Inn in several months.”

 

“Maybe. If you don’t call the police, I will. I don’t think I’m overreacting just because of-”

 

“No. It might just be another type of test.” Could there be an organization coiled within the organization for those of even higher intellect? Wasn’t there a 99.9 percent order? Lauren didn’t think she could make it into yet another level. It was a fluke that she made it in at all. They just happened to ask questions that she could answer on the actual Mensa test. Having practiced some Mensa mini-tests online, she nailed some and flunked others. She belonged in Densa, not Mensa.

 

Glancing at the computer clock, she noticed that a minute had passed since she solved the palindrome. Another minute closer to death. Maybe it would be considered inappropriate, but she decided to risk taking a copy of the document with her to the MensaOK welcome meeting. She whirled the chair around to face her sister. “I-”

 

“Careful. There’s something shiny on the front there,” Angie said, pointing yet staying clear of the page.

 

Turning the paper over, Lauren angled the dotted front of the sheet beneath the bright office light. She could see some faint shimmering lines radiating from a central point, creating a two-dimensional dandelion. The paper dented inward with each jab of her finger. Gold glittered within the ridges of her fingertip, resembling a sparkling eye shadow. “Why would anyone put eye shadow on a Mensa challenge?” She tried to push away the knotted dread. “I’m going to try something.”

 

She photocopied the face of the sheet, then traced dot-to-dot. Lauren felt hopeful when one-dot series yielded an “M.” But as she wrote a “7,” she suspected that a person could find these same letters and numbers in a pepper spill. She considered chromosomal patterns, but that didn’t fit. Equations? Nothing fit.

 

Genetics wasn’t her forte. Mathematics wasn’t her forte. The Mensans would eventually discover that she didn’t have a forte. Well, now she had the time and money to augment her education, although higher learning had failed her…and her husband. What a pair they’d been…a couple of overeducated idiots presuming to lecture others on the inner workings of the mind.

 

“Well, you look like you’re going to be all right,” Angie said, rubbing her temple. “This is just giving me a headache. I came by because it’s the one-year anniversary of, well, you know. I just can’t believe he did what he did on your birthday. I just-” She pressed her hand to her mouth as if to staunch the flow of words.

 

“Uh-huh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to get so engrossed. Probably need to get home to your family.”

 

Angie whipped out a fire truck red cell phone and stared at it. “Yep. They’re wondering where I am. Don’t worry. Go ahead with your puzzle. You don’t need to walk me to the door. But, please call me if you need me.” She trotted from the office. “Oh. And happy birthday,” she called out as the front door slammed.

 

 

There will be nothing happy about my birthday…evermore, as her friend, Poe, would say. Stooping, Lauren picked up the envelope that had dropped out of her own back pocket. She studied the return address, but the impersonal Mensa address failed to provide any information.

 

The postmark revealed that the letter had been mailed two days before from Falls Church, Virginia. Images of foliage collaged against quaint cottages stirred peaceful memories of a visit to Arlington, Virginia, seven years earlier. She and Romy were so in tune then. Was that to be the peak of her life? Change channels. Nothing like reminding herself for the 365th time that it was time to move on.

 

Shifting her stance, she flicked at the corner of the postage stamp. It looked and felt like a typical U.S. flag postage stamp, rigid enough to require a salute. Flipping over the envelope, she used a manicured fingernail and peeled a soiled curl of sticky tape off the back seal. Was it double sealed or re-sealed?

 

“Wait,” she muttered. The envelope bulged in the middle like a flattened fortune cookie, the bump revealing a small opaque square remaining within. How had she missed that?

Leaning forward, Lauren realized why she had chosen not to see it. Same size. Same shape. Her pale trembling fingers unfolded the hand-written message.

 

Sweetheart,

 

I realize that this is devastating to you at the moment, but I assure you that this is the preferable choice.

 

Lauren gasped. “Oh no.” This could not be happening again. The same note. The handwriting. Written on the same damned song sheet. Gloomy Sunday. It was his. Her body felt like it was filling with thick, wet concrete. She clutched the edge of the desk and steadied herself. Missing her chair, she sat down hard on the floor. She returned to the resurrected death note.

 

The fault is solely mine. The only explanation I can provide to you is that the deaths are mounting. I am not the murderer, but I am guilty nonetheless.

All of my patients will require a new therapist and I encourage you to consider this very rewarding possibility for your future.

 

I led a satisfactory life. I am completely lucid and go in peace. Now run next door and discuss this matter with Weldon. He will understand how to appropriately word the Certificate of Death so that my royalties remain uninterrupted. These and the retirement funds should leave you and the coming child comfortable. Immediately destroy this note.

 

With deepest affection, Romy

 

Lauren whispered, “I did, Romy. I did destroy this note. One year ago today.”

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

“Hi…,” he said, waiting.

 

Lauren wanted to ignore the man almost filling the backlit doorway of the stucco community center where the Mensans met. She’d been up again past two a.m. studying the blood spots until they’d begun to swirl together and she was now convinced that only some genius inside that building could solve her puzzle. The man’s lewd eyes scanned her with the intensity of an MRI and his every huff reeked of French Onion.

 

“Lauren.” Reflexively, she turned her head away.

 

“I see you got one of those, too.” He watched for her agreement.

 

“One…what?” she asked with distant politeness. She flinched, expecting another moist spray with his words.

 

“Dot puzzle, for want of a better description. This must be a Mensa Challenge.” His greasy pallid locks fell forward as he scrutinized the copied document in her hand. Lauren was glad she’d decided to bring a copy rather than attempting to explain that original parchment with blood all over it. Within his right hand he gripped a crumpled duplicate of the front of her document; yet his copy was blank on the back where the hangmen should be.

 

With her fingers, she squeegeed his warm spittle from her cheek. “Did you get only the puzzle?”

 

“Pardon me?” He used this excuse to lean in closer.

 

“Just the one spotted page?” Her eyes gave him a shove, but he missed it.

 

“Yes. One page. What do you mean? Did you get something more?”

 

Let’s see. How do you say ‘Just a resurrected original of my husband’s suicide note and a threatening hangman game’ and then terminate the conversation? Scooting backward, Lauren tried to move around his massive wall of flesh and into the Mensa meeting room.

 

“Here, let me take your wrap. I’m sitting over there next to the chips and queso.” He smiled as if making an amusing joke about his paunch, then winked and nodded toward a couple of empty folding chairs in the back. Removing her coat, she draped it across her arm. She wandered across the modest room to the cooler, scooped a cupful of ice, and poured herself a Coca-Cola. Focusing on the bubbles helped her maintain a sense of normalcy.

 

Lauren settled into a chair between two middle-aged females and feigned an inordinate interest in her ice cubes. She spied an additional copy of her special puzzle on the table in front of her neighbor, who sported a name-tag labeled “Miriam.” Just the thought of a nametag made Lauren sweat.

 

“Thank you,” she murmured in surprise as the pasty-faced greeter, Orval, pinned a tag at the top of her right breast, piercing the cashmere of her sweater in the process. Lauren could not believe she had just thanked the man for that breach of personal boundaries, but it was too late to be undone.

 

“Would you like a smidge of Crown Royal in that?” He gestured toward her Coke. She might have said “yes” if someone else had made the offer, and yet Orval was the reason she needed that drink. Her gaze searched all the tabletops for duplicate suicide notes, but she was relieved to see only more copies of the speckle test. Could fifty identical death notes push her over the edge? Maybe a week-long stay at Point Tranquility that Angie kept pushing was worth serious consideration.

 

“It’s Egyptian hieroglyphics,” Orval said, having now added Crown Royal to his breath that mingled with the fumes of his cheap cologne. His fingers traced her paper. “This is the symbol meaning ‘to walk’ or ‘to run.’ Now, this hieroglyphic is a crown that means a country or foreign country. The combined symbols mean to walk or to run in a foreign country.”

 

Lauren could not see a crown at all.

 

A woman in the corner spoke up. “What if it’s a diagram of blood specks splattered on the rug of a room?” There was an immediate buzz among the fifty-plus participants. Lauren studied the specks from this novel perspective. Is this the murder that Romy alluded to in that note? The outline of a headless body with an outstretched hand appeared within the splatter. Hesitant, she touched its arm.

 

Lauren turned to Miriam. “Who created this challenge?”

 

“No one knows,” Orval said, his shadow looming over her.

 

Orval had answered so quickly that Lauren wondered if the man had created the Mensa Challenge. Yet, how would he have included her husband’s handwritten message?

 

“These are stars.” Miriam’s second chin jiggled with the announcement. “When Caleb gets here, he will tell us exactly what constellations these are. He’s our astronomer.”

 

“No. They can’t be stars because of the gray lines here.” Orval, the lumpy Egyptologist, did not want to be shown up, but he had a point. “What constellation would this be?”

 

“There are eighty-eight constellations,” Miriam’s friend, name-tagged Catherine, said. The only constellations Lauren remembered were the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, but these patterns did not fit those constellations. Several members agreed with Miriam that the point patterns were constellations. No one offered an explanation for the lines.

 

Lauren watched the front door for Caleb’s entrance but the astronomer never showed. Once the welcome speeches were over, she performed an evasive maneuver away from Orval’s watchful eye, finding Catherine speaking to Miriam in a small alcove with a copy machine.

 

“The Big Dipper is a part of the Ursa Major or ‘great bear’ constellation.” Looking up, Catherine studied Lauren’s eyes, apparently spotting her ignorance beneath her best poker face. Using a crispy Cheeto, the woman circled Ursa Major, and then outlined the Big Dipper.

Lauren bent closer to the copied document that Catherine had propped up on a stapler atop a scarred table. The Big Dipper was there but it was just low on the horizon and sideways from what she had expected.

 

“See this large ‘M’-like shape.” Catherine used her finger because the Cheeto marker had been devoured. “This is supposed to represent a queen on her throne. Other times it flips to form a W. Right now she is hanging upside down on her throne. Cassiopeia was eternally chained to her throne to circle the North Star.”

 

I know how she feels. At least she had found the “M” on her own. Lauren leaned backward to glance into the assembly room. Taking a swig of the Coke as if it did contain a shot of Crown Royal, she said, “I see Orval has left. Whew.”

 

Catherine must have caught her exasperated tone. “Oh, Orval is a nice guy.” Miriam bobbed in trusting assent. “He said you remind him of his red-headed daughter. But your hair is more of a…”

 

“Light auburn than red,” Lauren said. “Caleb is an astronomer, I guess?”

 

“Caleb? Oh yes. One of the best. He’s acting Vice President of the astronomy club and he is also their webmaster at the moment. They meet on every second Friday…I believe.” Catherine raised her eyebrows and looked to Miriam, who again bobbed. “I’m the webmaster for our chapter. We’re always searching for interesting articles or stories if you would like to submit a piece.”

 

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll do that sometime,” Lauren said. Perhaps she could fill the hole in her life with new friends, new activities. But it wasn’t a hole, really. It felt more like a caldera. Plus, the articles would need to be interesting.

 

Once home, Lauren headed straight for her Gateway computer. There it was. The website for the Tulsa Astronomy Club. They would be holding a meeting in two days. She would ask Caleb about the puzzle. The bonus would be that she would not have to subject herself to Orval’s lurking presence.

 

Why couldn’t she focus? The grief had dissipated to the point she could peer out from under its soft edges. The resurrected note. The last time she’d seen that note was in her kitchen sink, where the match flame curled it into fragile charcoal.

 

Only two other people had seen the original-her husband, who would never again send another note, and Weldon, her former neighbor who was employed as the city medical examiner. And just as her husband instructed, she had destroyed that note.

 

Weldon had seemed like a considerate and helpful neighbor. Her husband, Romy, had been right…and wrong. As he predicted, Weldon had worded the death certificate to suggest death by accident. Only it took two more soul-wringing months for Romy to die after shutting himself in his self-created gas chamber.

 

Looking back in hindsight, though, she still could not identify the signs. With her psychiatric training, she should be able to label something that had been a little off. As if labeling anything granted anyone more control.

 

Lauren grabbed her current novel as if grasping a lifeline, flipped up the leg rest, and settled into her leather recliner. It was comfortable to fall into her new routine of reading through most of the night. She preferred to keep her mind occupied so she didn’t have time to think. Over-analysis of herself, others, and her problems had produced few answers.

 

The kick of the baby woke her. But when she reached down and gently touched where the book corner pressed into her abdomen, she remembered. Empty. The child was gone. If only she could understand what went wrong.

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

After allowing herself a buffer in case she became lost, Lauren arrived at the planetarium twenty-five minutes early. The inside of the Madame Curie science museum was vast and edgy in the dim lighting. Bizarre multi-layered shadows leapt about the expanse, emanating from the hair-raising Tesla Coil electricity display. About the time she calmed, the exhibit fired another violet stroke.

 

She crept by a gigantic rotating Jupiter. It displayed a surface simulating rippling purple bands and swirling crimson gases. For a moment she stopped and read the plaque describing the blood-red hurricane that had first been spotted on the gas planet 300 years before. She moved away from the eternal storm.

 

Halting at the tornado exhibit, she gawked at the writhing funnel. It looked like it lived and breathed. She reached to touch it, but it snaked away every time she attempted to feel its misty essence. Lauren wondered if the warmth of her body redirected it.

 

She ambled, her eyes scanning for doors, locating a multitude. Strong animal body odor and the sound of claws on steel repelled her from a nearby entrance.

 

Her attention was drawn upward to a large portrait of Madame Curie swinging above her head. It was troubling to think how the Nobel Prize-winning scientist and her daughter had died. The mother and her child had suffered a slow cruel death from a danger they could not see, hear, smell, taste or feel. Radiation never alerted Marie’s senses. Not even a sixth sense.

 

Lauren stopped at Room 2, the specified meeting room, which was dark and locked. She assumed she was in the right place. Looking again at her Mapquest map, she rechecked the address of the museum. She stared toward the direction of the thuds. A spiny toothpick pricked her as she dug in her purse for her keys.

 

Spotting the heaving metal plate, she relaxed when she connected the vibrations to the earthquake booth. She walked over and stood on one slab, testing the effect of a sheer wave. The sudden drops of the mechanical quake became predictable and limited, not like the free-falls of real life. Lauren exited the small ride.

 

After everything she’d been through, why be afraid of anything? Tiptoeing to peer again through the unlit window, she was startled to both feel and hear a low masculine voice vibrating up her neck.

 

She was embarrassed to decipher the words to the sound: “Excuse me. Let me get that door open for you.”

 

A thirtyish, pleasant-looking dark-skinned man selected a key among many and opened the door for her. “Sorry to frighten you.” She detected an intriguing island accent. A shining coal lock of hair swung against his cheekbone, framing a symmetric visage.

 

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

 

He entered the secluded room with her. She glanced toward the exit.

 

“You are a new face?” His gaze was direct, amiable.

 

“Mmm-hmm.” Lauren looked at the empty plastic chairs. He was still searching her countenance. She reread her Mapquest map. He relented from his social introductions and walked a few feet away. Shuffling papers drew her attention to the podium. Peeking up, she realized that he was reviewing his notes. He appeared to be concentrating on an outline. Great. I just made a wonderful first impression. “Umm, I’m obviously a novice astronomer. My name is Lauren.”

 

With an open and beautiful smile that involved his entire face, he replied “Hail up, Lauren. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Caleb.” His warm palm enveloped her hand.

 

“Nice to meet you, too.”

 

“Welcome to our star party. You are not going to find a nicer bunch of people anywhere.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Caleb glided to the podium to set up his notebook computer, his muscles moving in the relaxed synchronized rhythm of a large cat. She could not identify a self-conscious moment in the man. And here she was a spring-loaded firing pin.

 

His iridescent skin, braided locks and warm piercing eyes were as exotic and gorgeous as a rainforest bloom. She made a conscious effort not to stare each time he sauntered across the room to greet arrivals. Smoothing the wrinkles of her stained sweatpants, she was surprised to feel a vague stirring.

 

When he began his speech, she forgot his physical beauty as she heard the words of a brilliant mind.

 

“These are several of my favorite photos that I took of the elusive green flash in my home of Saint Croix. And no, they are not of a comic book hero.”

 

The ease of the laughter in the room suggested friendship and admiration.

 

“For those of you who may not know, Saint Croix is the largest United States Virgin Island, and definitely the most important, because I come from there.”

 

She was about to peg him arrogant until the audience chuckled at his apparent joke.

 

“I will present my favorite slide first. This one is off of Mermaid Beach at the Sugar Sands Resort, the best place for limin,’ or as you say in Okie, ‘hanging out.’ So you do not always have to pay high dollar for a yacht to appreciate this awe-inspiring experience.”

 

“Wow,” Lauren whispered as she absorbed the verdant splendor on the slide.

 

“In the islands, we consider it a beneficent stroke of luck to witness a green flash. So I must be one of the luckiest fellows in the multiple universes. But, someone should tell my ex-wife.”

 

A woman sitting in front of her perked up, giving Caleb her full attention.

 

“Exactly at the moment of sunset or sunrise, the phenomena of the green flash can sometimes be seen when the skies are essentially clear and free of dust. For me, I love sunsets, because I am on island time and enjoy sleeping in most mornings.”

 

She gave a small sideways glance to the cheerful group to which she did not belong.

 

“It is necessary to observe a green flash from a location with a good true horizon, unobstructed by buildings or mountains. The open sea is the perfect true horizon. As you can see from this slide, the final sliver of the sun flashes green the moment before it sets. Typically, the flash lasts only a few seconds, but it is worth the wait. You all must come and see this with me. A photo is a poor substitute for the experience.”

 

She was in awe of the emerald luminescence above the tranquil sea. Closing her eyes, she floated with it above the shimmering surface.

 

“The explanation for this event is that the atmosphere refracts optical light. In fact, several of you may already realize this, but because of light distortion, the image of the sun appears above the horizon for several minutes after the sun, itself, has already set.”

 

How interesting. The sun is not really there? She leaned toward him.

 

“The atmosphere refracts or bends optical light that has short wavelengths more than light with long wavelengths. So you see, the shortest violet light wave is bent most, followed by blue, the green, then yellow, orange, and red. Even in the best atmospheric conditions, there is often enough dust to absorb the short violet, blue, and green light waves at sunset so we usually do not see these colors.”

 

As he gulped the crystal water, Lauren admired his light gauzy pants and all the shapes beneath them. Guilt stabbed her when he turned her way and smiled. She attempted to mimic his professional bearing. This is not like me.

 

“Now under clear and near-perfect conditions as just off the coast of Buck Island where I captured this from the yacht The’ Vert, which is French for Green Flash,” he said with an excellent accent, causing an amused titter from the audience. “We see the Sun seems to consist of several overlapping disks of different colors-violet the highest and red the lowest. And when you spot a mirage of an almost colorless yellow sun, as we have right above here, this is a very good portent for seeing the green flash.”

 

The lilting depth of his voice bore similarities in resonance to a deep Steel Pan drum. No wonder it was an island instrument of choice. Her nostrils flared as if she could catch the ocean mist.

 

“Fortunately, the green flash in its entirety has also been captured on my digital movie, here. We see the red disk of the sun setting first, then the orange disk, then the yellow. Because of the overlapping disks, only the uppermost sliver is green. However, in this case, above the sun is the necessary solar mirage, the atmosphere acting as a mirror.”

 

Lauren’s neighbor pointed out the solar mirage to his friend.

 

“This mirage of the sun detaches the green portion of the sun from the rest of the disks, prolonging the setting of the green disk. And we are blessed with the stunning green flash. It is a beatific color explosion.”

 

Grateful to see a replay of the gorgeous emerald flash, Lauren was in awe and yearning, as if the brilliance of the light invaded her eyes and soul.

 

Caleb ended his astronomy speech with “God bless you.” She marveled at the euphoria of being blessed by the sincerity of his wish. What a beautiful blend of man. It took some time for the appreciative listeners to wander away. Seeing her opening, she approached Caleb with the drawing.

 

“I heard someone address you as ‘Doctor.’ Where did you get your graduate degree?”

 

“From the California Institute of Technology. I received my undergraduate degree in Physics at the University of the Virgin Islands in the Science and Mathematics Division. I teach there now.”

 

“Oh. Physics?”

 

“Yes, I know. A lot of people are surprised to learn the Virgin Islands even has a University. It has been there since the sixties. We are not all Marine Biologists majors there, yuh chek.”

 

She was unable to think of a clever response to his ribbing.

 

“You have heard of the Eye in the Sky.” He spoke it like a pronouncement.

 

“Uh. Maybe.”

 

“It is located on eastern Saint Croix.”

 

She searched her memory but came up blank.

 

“It is one of those ten huge antennas we use to explore black holes, quasars, pulsars…like in the movie Contact. I am currently working on obtaining a grant to acquire more antennas.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Half of the graduates from our Science and Mathematics Division are accepted into graduate and medical schools, including Yale, Cornell, Brown, you name it.” He stood taller when speaking of his Alma Mater.

 

“Wow. That is unusual. Umm. I received this puzzle in the mail I heard that maybe you could help me with.”

 

“You must be one of the new Mensa members?”

 

“Yes, and I got this test. Well, I’m not sure it’s a test, exactly. It’s just I know nothing about astronomy, but I do find it fascinating. Astronomy, I mean. You probably already received this test, too?” He was undoubtedly wondering how such an inarticulate fool wound up in Mensa. While he held and examined the speckled page, she attempted to discretely pull up the loose waistband of her oversized pants, but aborted the attempt when he noticed, and then rubbed her face as a failed distraction.

 

“No, I did not receive one, although I heard about it from a friend. Hmmm. That appears to be the Geminids.”

 

“I’m sorry. The what?”

 

“The Geminids is an upcoming meteor shower. The radiant is from the Gemini constellation. These are the Gemini twins, Castor and Pollux.” He pointed at two larger dots. “The meteor shower appears to radiate from Gemini. The radiant is akin to facing and peering down a long straight train track.” He gestured as if the railroad were in front of him. “The two rails appear to radiate from a single point. These lines show the radiant of the meteors.”

 

“I see. Wow. That is interesting. Well, I loved your speech.”

 

His scent was light and airy. “Thank you. I love the subject. The people here are fun, too.” He brightened and glanced at the milling group.

 

Lauren turned her head and made eye contact with a freckled-faced blonde, who revealed a cute gap between her front teeth when she smiled. The young woman made her feel welcome and cozy like a cup of hot chocolate. Tenseness ebbing from her muscles, Lauren turned back to Caleb.

 

“When does this Geminid…meteor shower take place?”

 

Nodding to confirm her pronunciation, he responded, “December fourteenth should be the peak. And we are really lucky to have a young moon that night, so the brightness of the moon will not interfere with the celestial display.” The smile of his eyes was more dazzling than the smile of his lips. His exuberance was contagious.

 

“That sounds very nice. Oh, well, thank you.”

 

“It was truly my pleasure to meet you. Chek you latah.” He strolled back toward the podium.

 

I wish I could bottle that accent and shake it on a gourmet meal. She mumbled, “Me, too.” Her shoulder bumped the door as she attempted a graceful exit. Now, she needed to run.

He turned around. “One curiosity.”

 

“Yes.” She hesitated.

 

“At the bottom of the page, there are several missing stars.”

 

“Really?” She looked at it again as if she would be able to see this, but could not, of course.

 

He approached as she stilled. “It is especially noticeable because everything else is depicted so accurately. See in this quadrant here. The bottom three stars of the constellation Lynx are absent along with this elbow of Ursa Major. Most people are unaware of the constellation Lynx because it is nearly invisible to the naked eye. The constellation acquired its name because you literally need to have the eyes of a Lynx to see it. Look at these two spaces. It is almost as if the stars have been obscured by two tall rectangular shapes, perhaps symmetrical buildings.”

 

“Symmetrical buildings,” she parroted.

 

“I do not know where those might be in Oklahoma.”

 

She pursed her lips to consider this. “Neither do I. I really do appreciate your help and I truly enjoyed your lecture.”

 

“Well, thank you. It is so much more fun when my audience is awake.”

 

She forced her legs to start walking out the door. It had been 12 months since she had enjoyed the company of a fellow human being. Other than her sister.

 

“Is that a copy?”

 

“What?”

 

He pointed to her puzzle.

 

“Oh. Yes. A copy? Yes. Would you like one?”

 

“Certainly. Maybe I could study it more seriously when I can grab a moment.”

 

Her thumbs creased the paper. “I have an original.”

 

“You…have the original?”

 

“The original I received in the mail. The specks look like blood to me.”

 

His head popped up. “Blood? Foh true?”

 

“Well, maybe, I have no idea, really. I haven’t looked at them through a microscope, or run any tests or anything. I thought you might want to see the original…sometime. I could always bring it with me.”

 

“Perhaps I can…sometime. Blood would warrant a thorough examination.”

 

Leaving the copy with him, she felt confident that if anyone could solve the star puzzle, Caleb could. Had Romy witnessed the murders in those buildings?

 

 

 

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My favorite author!  Heather Huffman has done it again – she’s managed to carefully balance humor and joy with the dark reality of human trafficking and organized crime (and also include some suspense and action). The end result is another enjoyable read (not too heavy, not too light) that sticks with you long after you’ve closed the book and leaves you wanting to go out and do some good in the world.  — Bookie

Her writing is a cross between a love story/thriller,007 type. This is one book you won’t put down until you are done! She is my kind of writer. Get the book, read it and you be the judge, but I am pretty sure you will love it! All her books are amazing.  —  J. Rogers

I read this after reading and loving Throwaway and it met all of my high expectations. … [I] thought of [the characters] as people I would love to be friends with. I especially liked Heather Huffman’s use of banter in her dialogues. I read the entire book in one day and can’t wait to read Ties That Bind. The books also gave me a website where I donated money to the abused women and girls that are written about so movingly. I strongly recommend this book!  — Dafna Yee

An excellent follow-up to Throwaway, and it’s really cool to see some familiar faces pop up.

 

Visit Amazon’s Heather Huffman Page

I love writing. It’s more than something I do; it’s who I am. Few things bring me more joy than being elbow-deep in a story. I also believe life is more than the act of taking up air. We all have something we’re good at, something we’re meant to be doing to make this world a better place.

So I’m incredibly grateful to have a publisher like Booktrope who helps me use something I love to make a difference in a cause I care deeply about. A portion of my royalties are donated to organizations that fight human trafficking in one way or another.

When I write, I share a piece of who I am. There’s something of my pain and my victories in each page. (Have fun guessing what’s true and what’s not!) I hope to take readers on a journey with me. Nothing makes me happier than someone writing to say my characters felt like old friends – or that they laughed, cried, yelled or cheered with me along the way.

plus … Don’t Miss Today’s Kindle Daily Deal!


House RulesKindle Daily Deal: House RulesIn Michael Lawson’s fast-paced thriller, House Rules, congressional snoop Joe DeMarco investigates a trio of failed terror attacks in Washington, D.C. When he begins to suspect that attacks are homegrown–and related to an anti-Islamic bill moving with suspicious quickness through Congress–the charming hero starts to unravel an utterly intricate plot in the making.

Yesterday’s Price: $4.62
Today’s Discount: $3.63
Kindle Daily Deal Price: $0.99 (78% off)

And here, in the comfort of your own browser, is your free sample of SUDDENLY A SPY by Heather Huffman:



 

FEEL THE RUSH with this KND Bargain Book Alert! Choose any two from a dozen Kindle bestsellers and author Richard Bard will send them free when you purchase his thriller BRAINRUSH!

Kindle Nation readers, we have good news this weekend. Once again thriller author extraordinaire has expanded his very generous Feel the Rush promotion to include an even wider selection of bestsellers that he is willing to send you free! Here’s Richard to explain:

Thanks for participating in the “Feel the Rush” promotion. It’s designed to be a win-win for both of us—you get three books for the price of one and I get a chance to find another BRAINRUSH fan!  Here’s how it works:

You purchase the BRAINRUSH eBook for $2.99. Email a proof-of-purchase in the form of a screen-shot of your order confirmation, or simply forward the order-confirmation email you receive to: Promo@RichardBard.com… 

CLICK FOR:     KINDLE      NOOK      OTHER FORMATS

…I will then send you a gift certificate for the two books you select from the list below.  (Don’t forget to tell me which two you want!)  As of September 13th, all of these books are Top-Ranked for their categories and most of them are New York Times Bestsellers:

Thrillers with Heart (by CJ Lyons.  Blind Faith is #3 on the NYT BS list!)

Mystery & Thrillers (The Abbey is #6 on the NYT BS list!  Blind Pursuit is #9! )

Literary (Recluse is #4 on the NYT BS list!)

Romance (Both are Top-20 New York Times Bestsellers)

Science Fiction (Wired is the #1 Amazon bestseller!)

When you send in your proof-of-purchase let me know which two books you would like.  Yes, it’s okay to mix and match.  Or, if you prefer, simply send in your proof with no message and I’ll make two selections on your behalf. (You don’t really want me to do that, do you?  Please pick your two favorites!)

Keep in mind that in the event the price for an offerred book unexpectedly increases, I will be unable to include it as a gift. If that happens I will notify you immediately so that you can make an alternate selection.

That’s it!  No tricks… No gimmicks… No obligation.  Do I hope that you’ll read BRAINRUSH first?  Sure!  Am I keeping my fingers crossed that you’ll let me know how you feel about it by leaving a review on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or your favorite site?  Of course!  But that’s entirely up to you. Happy reading!

Sincerely,

Richard Bard

Note: Please allow up 36-hrs for processing. This promotion is subject to change without notice. But don’t worry—if you submit your proof of purchase while this page is still ‘live’ on the richardbard.com website, you will definitely receive your free gifts!

If you like this deal please tell a friend by clicking on the “Share” link below.

(This is a sponsored post.)