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Weekend freebies! Seven free Kindle titles ready for download!

Today’s Sponsor:

Blood Debt (Touched Series Book 1)

by Nancy Straight
4.5 stars – 544 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Touched Series, Book 1
Genre: Mythological Romance (suitable for all ages)

Her whole life, it had just been the two of them. Before her mother’s last breath, she gave Camille the information she had craved her entire life: the identity of her father. Daring to contact him, Camille was welcomed by an entire family she never knew existed. But nothing comes without a price, as she discovers when her family claims a legendary heritage tracing back to a Centaur touched by Zeus.

As she learns the secrets of her Centaur bloodline, she is drawn into a forbidden love with Drake. Her family acknowledges her life may be the blood debt required to pay for her mother’s transgressions. The same person who once held her mother captive, and forced her into decades of hiding, now controls Camille. Her only chance is to seek a piece of her mother’s past that will win her freedom and the life she desperately desires.

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Dangerous (Element Preservers Book 1)

by Alycia Linwood
4.1 stars – 127 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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Eighteen-year-old Ria, a fire elemental and privileged student at the University of Magic, thinks nothing can get in the way of her happiness. Even when she falls for Michael, a boy whose element is different from hers, she is determined to make their forbidden romance work.

* * *

Lost and Found, Stories of Christmas

by Wendell Mettey
4.5 stars – 100 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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Lost and Found, Stories of Christmas is a collection of stories written by Reverend Wendell Mettey for his congregations. While written over a span of years, the stories have a timelessness that appeals to readers of all ages. These simple stories share the emotional journey of characters whose struggles with doubts, fears and resentments cause them to lose hope, but who ultimately find a great gift through the discovery of the true meaning of Christmas.

* * *

Killing The Rainbow: True Stories & History of Violence Against LGBT (True Crime & History Book 12)

by RJ Parker Ph.D.
5.0 stars – 9 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Various acts of violence involving assault, torture, harassment, and sometimes even murder, have been carried out against members of the LGBT community. Homosexuals, bisexuals and transgender people have also faced constant discrimination in their everyday lives on the basis of their sexual orientation. This discrimination against members of the LGBT community stems from religious beliefs, political views, bias or even internal fear.

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KIDNAPPED COWBOY (Captured Hearts Series Book 1)

by Lindsey Brookes
4.3 stars – 457 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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Kidnapped Cowboy – After countless attempts to speak with the owner of the retreat for troubled teens she runs on the outskirts of Lone Tree, Montana, Caitlin Myers resorts to kidnapping Brandon ‘The Ogre of Lone Tree’ Barnes in a desperate attempt to change his mind about turning Stoney Brook into a vacation resort for the wealthy.

* * *

Fragile Cord: A gripping psychological thriller (DS Coupland Book 1)

by Emma Salisbury
3.8 stars – 24 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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Introducing Salford detectives Kevin Coupland and Alex Moreton as they investigate what appears to be a routine murder-suicide. Tracey Kavanagh was her usual upbeat self; right up until the moment she drowned her son and tied a rope around her neck killing herself and her unborn child. For Alex Moreton, this case couldn’t have come at a worse time, battling with her partner over whether to have another child, she is superstitious about pushing their luck – they’re happy enough as they are…aren’t they?

* * *

Fear Factory: Horror Stories

by John Raptor
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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Warning: Contains Strong Violence, Sexual Content, and Language. Eight disturbing, dark, and creepy stories by author John Raptor.

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Today’s Sponsor:

His Frozen Heart (Brewer Brothers Book 1)

by Nancy Straight
4.8 stars – 80 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Finalist ~ Suspense Category ~ 2016 Next Generation Indie Book Awards

Bronze Medal Winner ~ Fictional Suspense ~ 2015 Readers’ Favorite International Book Awards

Book 1, of the Brewer Brothers Series
Genre: Suspenseful Romance (suitable for all ages)

For best friends, Candy and Libby, money is tight with hardly enough to cover their living expenses. When they are desperate for grocery money, the girls bet on their pool playing skills to add to their income.
A simple wager on a quiet winter evening has devastating results; a stalker is determined to kill them both. With Libby in the hospital after a vicious attack, and Candy being pursued by the same stalker, she vows to find Libby’s attacker.
What she finds is Dave, an old friend with a secret past filled with misfortune. Will Dave’s past provide the answer to all of Candy’s problems or will it become Candy’s worst nightmare realized?

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Darkangel (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 1)

by Christine Pope
4.1 stars – 220 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Finding the man of your dreams can be a real nightmare…. As the future prima, or head witch of her clan, Angela McAllister is expected to bond with her consort during her twenty-first year, thus ensuring that she will come into her full powers at the appointed time. The clock is ticking down, and her consort has yet to make an appearance. Instead, her dreams are haunted by a man she’s never seen, the one she believes must be her intended match.

* * *

Plague Wars: Infection Day: The First Trilogy: Three apocalyptic technothriller sci-fi adventures (Plague Wars Series)

by David VanDyke, Ryan King
4.5 stars – 106 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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From Hugo nominated and Amazon bestselling author David VanDyke. When the Eden Plague is loosed upon the world, the forces of order and chaos, good and evil must battle it out in a struggle for control and supremacy. A PTSD-damaged combat medic, a female Marine with no legs and a sniper with no remorse might be its only hope of survival. Can these flawed heroes drive back those who would enslave humanity? Or will the darkness spread and swallow them up?

* * *

Lane’s End (A Fitzjohn Mystery Book 4)

by Jill Paterson
4.4 stars – 366 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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Sydney’s Observatory on a balmy summer evening is the perfect venue for a cocktail party and, it would seem, a murder, for Peter Van Goren’s body is discovered bludgeoned to death in the grounds. The first question Detective Chief Inspector Fitzjohn must answer is why Van Goren was present given his name does not appear on the guest list. The second is what was the subject of Van Goren’s vehement argument with Richard Carmichael, one of the function’s hosts.

* * *

Southern Spirits (Southern Ghost Hunter Mysteries Book 1)

by Angie Fox
4.6 stars – 609 reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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When out of work graphic designer Verity Long accidentally traps a ghost on her property, she’s saddled with more than a supernatural sidekick—she gains the ability see spirits. It leads to an offer she can’t refuse from the town’s bad boy, the brother of her ex and the last man she should ever partner with.Ellis Wydell is in possession of a stunning historic property haunted by some of Sugarland Tennessee’s finest former citizens. Only some of them are growing restless—and destructive. He hires Verity to put an end to the disturbances. But soon, Verity learns there’s more to the mysterious estate than floating specters, secret passageways, and hidden rooms.

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Last Call For Free, 5-Star Romance Excerpt! Discover HIS FROZEN HEART by Nancy Straight

Last call for KND free Romance excerpt:

His Frozen Heart (Brewer Brothers Book 1)

by Nancy Straight

His Frozen Heart (Brewer Brothers Book 1)

Kindle Price: 99 cents

5.0 stars – 21 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

For best friends, Candy and Libby, money is tight with hardly enough to cover their living expenses. When they are desperate for grocery money, the girls bet on their pool playing skills to add to their income.

A simple wager on a quiet winter evening has devastating results, with a stalker determined to kill them both. With Libby in the hospital after a vicious attack, and Candy being pursued by the same stalker, she vows to find Libby’s attacker.

What she finds is Dave, an old friend with a secret past filled with misfortune. Will Dave’s past provide the answer to all of Candy’s problems or will it become Candy’s worst nightmare realized?

*  *  *

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  And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free romance excerpt:

Chapter 1

 

I ran to the shadow of an enormous maple tree and crouched low to the ground. I couldn’t believe I had let Libby talk me into this. We had set our alarm clock for 2 AM, then sneaked out of my house while my parents were sound asleep. Libby was ticked off about some stupid science assignment over spring break. She believed she had been purposely singled out by Mr. Brinks. I pointed out that her entire class had a project to work on over the break, but she insisted her assigned project was more difficult than everyone else’s.

Still confident that this was the dumbest idea she had come up with in months, I asked, “You’re sure this is his house?”

“Of course, I’m sure. I wrote down the house number today, 811 Stone Avenue.”

I eyed the small scrap of paper in her hand – only the number was scrawled down. “You’re sure this is the right street?”

“C’mon already. Yes, his address is 811 Stone Avenue. Do you need me to break in and steal a piece of his mail?”

I was struggling to find a way to talk her out of her plan. Delaying, I pointed at the driveway, “I thought he drove a blue four-door car?”

Her gaze drifted to the driveway where a red SUV was parked. She shrugged my question off, “Maybe he keeps it in the garage.”

“Or maybe this isn’t the right address.” I eyed the upscale neighborhood where the two-story brick home stood. It had a three car garage, and there looked to be a detached guest house in the back. This didn’t look like the sort of home a high school science teacher could afford.

Libby scowled at me, “It’s the right address. Are you going to help me or not?”

I took another look at the SUV. The license plate caught my eye: it was a vanity plate that read: SUPRINT. “What do you think the license plate stands for?”

Libby barked, “Surprise instantly, super instantly, super instructor. . . who knows, he’s a dork. If you aren’t going to help me, go wait in the car.”

As much as I hated this idea, I couldn’t let Libby do it on her own. I grabbed a roll of toilet paper, “Okay. I’m helping. I’ll take the trees, you do the house.”

“You’re the best.” Those were the last words spoken before the two of us set off an external alarm and the house lit up like Caesar’s Palace. A computerized voice began to broadcast, “Intruder alert,” every five seconds. Flood lights poured down onto the grass from several points on the roof. Lights in the house turned on, then the computerized voice coming through the loud speaker shut off. We had obviously awakened Mr. Brinks, and he was about to catch us red-handed teepeeing his house. I froze. I willed my legs to move, but they ignored me.

The front door opened and Mr. Brink’s voice shouted from the front porch, “Who’s out there?”

I was sort of hidden in the shadows when I heard Libby’s voice whisper to me. “Candy, I’ll distract him. You get home. You were never here.”

Before I could stop her or try to tell her I wasn’t leaving her, Libby skipped from out of the shadows – not walked, not ran, but skipped. She overexaggerated her movements, nearly dancing in circles in the glow of all the lights. The man on the porch adjusted his glasses, cinched his bathrobe up tight, then reality hit me that this was definitely not Mr. Brinks. Whoever this man was, he was not happy about a girl skipping through his yard with a roll of toilet paper in the middle of the night.

The man shouted, “Who are you?   What are you doing?”

In a shrill voice, Libby shouted, “I’m the gingerbread girl, and you can’t catch me.” She sprinted around the side of his house and into the side yard. As soon as his attention was diverted, I ran across the street and tucked behind his neighbor’s garbage can. My heart raced, I wiped my palms on my jeans, and it sounded like I was breathing heavy enough to be a prank telephone caller.

I couldn’t leave Libby. I needed to delay the man who was now rounding the side of his house chasing her. It was my turn to create a distraction for her. I looked at the SUV, which had a small red flashing light above the rearview mirror indicating the alarm had been set. I knew what I needed to do. I darted back across the street, ran up to the side of the SUV and kicked it as hard as I could.

The vehicle’s alarm blared to life as I ran back to the safety of the garbage cans where I had taken cover minutes before. The SUV flashed its lights, a loud siren awoke every neighbor who had managed to sleep through the previous alarm and the man’s shouting. The man ran from around the side of the house where he had chased Libby, onto the porch, and through his front door. A minute later he reemerged from his front door holding a remote to turn off the vehicle’s loud plea for help.

This had been enough time for Libby to run over to my side of the street and squat down beside me behind the garbage cans. I whisper shouted at her, “Couldn’t stay up and watch old movies. Couldn’t surf YouTube. No, you have to teepee your teacher’s house. Oh, wait, scratch that, teepee a stranger’s house.”

She answered me with an enormous smile and mischievous eyes, “Admit it. This is soooooo better than braiding each other’s hair and painting our nails.”

A voice shouted from directly behind us. “They’re over here. There’s two of ‘em. I already called the police.”

The two of us popped up from behind the garbage cans and ran full-speed down the street away from the ruckus we had caused. We ran the four city blocks straight to where we had left my car. Libby made my life interesting. She was never one to see the flaws of a plan before initiating it – life with Libby was an adventure. We both watched for police cars as I drove home, but didn’t pass a single squad car. I turned off the car and coasted it into place so as not to wake up my parents. We both sat there in front of my house for several minutes before our breathing slowed and Libby asked, “What do you want to do now?”

“Now? We almost got thrown in jail. I want to go to bed.”

Libby snarked, “We did not almost get thrown in jail. We didn’t even see one police car.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Well, no. But since we already sneaked out, maybe we should make the most of it. It might be risky trying to sneak back into your house.”

“So, what’s your plan? Sleep in my car?”

“We could go out to the lake and see if anyone were there tonight.”

“The lake? If anyone was there, the police have already sent them packing and confiscated the beer. C’mon, let’s get in before anyone notices we’ve gone.”

She reluctantly followed me inside; we had been gone less than an hour. The next morning, Libby was on the computer when I woke up to, “Oh, crap, it was 118.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I asked, “What was 118?”

“Mr. Brink’s address. I just wrote the house number down because I knew I could remember the street. His address is 118 Stone Avenue; we went to 811 Stone Avenue last night.” She paused for a minute, “Want to try again tonight?”

She handed me the slip of paper from last night which read 811; when I turned it upside down it read 118. That was Libby. Once she got something in her head, the only way to get it out was to follow her blindly on whatever objective she had set her sights on.

 

*****

 

The memory of that adventure played through my head as I tuned out the commencement ceremony. Returning to reality, I listened to our class valedictorian’s speech drone on. A smile formed when it hit me that every happy high school memory I had was with Libby. When the valedictorian’s speech ended with the cliché, “This is the first day of the rest of our lives,” I was sure I would puke.

Luckily the rest of the ceremony moved faster. The superintendent stood in front of the lectern handing diplomas to each student. Beads of sweat formed on my brow as I accepted mine, and decided he looked even more intimidating in a suit than he did in his bathrobe at two in the morning. SUPRINT on the red SUV did not stand for “super instructor,” as Libby had surmised. I was already back in my seat holding my diploma when Libby’s name was called, and I was anxious to see her reaction to the superintendent up close. A slurred voice shouted from the risers, “That’s my girl.”

I saw her stop to look where the shout had come from. Her dad was here. She placed one hand on her square hat, holding it in place, while her other hand waved like crazy to the voice above. Libby had ridden with me to the ceremony. When I’d asked her if her dad was coming to graduation, her answer sounded defeated, “He doesn’t like crowds.”

Libby had grown up with only her dad.   He had a tough time holding a job, and for the same reason had a tough time keeping a decent place to live. She moved a lot. Growing up, Libby had spent almost every weekend at my house. When I was younger, I never understood why I couldn’t go to her house to spend the night. Mom always manufactured a good reason for why I couldn’t go over, but welcomed Libby to stay with us. It wasn’t until I was a teenager and could drive that I saw where she lived first hand and was grateful Mom had never given in to my pleading.

After the ceremony was over, we found each other. I asked, “Is your dad giving you a ride home?”

“No. I’m going back to your house with you.” Libby had stayed with me the last two weeks. She said it was because she didn’t want me to have to drive across town and pick her up, but I was guessing her dad had drunk their rent money again, so they were locked out of the apartment. There was a month when we were in eighth grade where both of them lived in his truck. A few of the nights were so cold that they had to stay in a homeless shelter.

Not wanting to pry about her dad’s abrupt departure, I said, “Great. I got you a present.”

A huge smile formed on her lips, “Oh, me, too!” She reached into her pocket and took out a handmade red and white friendship bracelet. I’d seen her make these before. It was made of knotted embroidery floss, but she had made it with my name in it: Candy. I’d watched her make simple ones that took all weekend: one with my name in it must have taken her several weeks.

I looked at the wrapped box in the back seat of my car. After seeing the bracelet she had made for me, I felt like I had cheated her. She tore through the wrapping paper and stared at the two little eyes peering out through the box’s lid. Libby had collected turtles for as long as I could remember – she had hundreds in all shapes and sizes.

I watched in horror as tears welled up in her eyes. I stammered, “What’s wrong? If you don’t like it, I can take it back. I thought you liked turtles.”

She shook her head. She reached across the bench seat of my car and grabbed my neck in a tight embrace. I froze. Libby let me go, then wiped her eyes trying to keep her eyeliner from running. “Until I met you, I was a turtle. That’s how I saw myself. Anytime someone got too close to me, I would hide in my shell. You were the first person I could be out of my shell around.”

So the valedictorian’s speech hadn’t been that monumental. I was sort of excited for Libby that her dad had sobered up long enough to watch her get her diploma. But it was Libby’s response to the little stuffed turtle that yanked on my heart.

She smiled, “Let’s go see if Mom needs help getting ready for the party.” Libby never knew her mom: they had met a few times, but it was Libby’s dad who raised her. One day she just started calling my mom, “Mom.”

When we pulled up to my house, a huge banner hung down from the roof of the front porch. “Congratulations Candy and Libby.” We may not have been sisters by blood, but in every other sense of the word we were. It was a typical graduation party: relatives I hadn’t seen since my older sister’s high school graduation, neighbors, my parent’s friends – snore. After the last of the guests departed, Libby and I went upstairs to my room to change so we could go to a couple fun parties. Mom knocked on my door, peeked through the opening and asked, “Got a minute?”

“Sure. C’mon in.”

Mom was beaming when she said, “We’re so proud of both of you girls.” She sat on the edge of my bed, “Libby, have you picked a college?”

“No. I’m going to work for a year or so to figure out what I want to do.”

“Good. Maybe you can help Candy with rent.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Rent? You’re going to charge me to live here?”

Mom smiled. “That’s up to you. Dad got a job in New Mexico. He needs to start there in two weeks.”

Did I hear her right? “You’re moving to New Mexico? But why?”

“Dad’s company has wanted to transfer him for years, but he wouldn’t move while you and your sisters were still at home. His boss offered him a promotion if he transferred – Dad accepted.”

I had heard my parents talk about a transfer a few times, but each time I started to get seriously nervous about it, Dad told me he wouldn’t uproot me or my sisters. Now I was officially an adult: I had turned eighteen last month, and, as of four hours ago, I was a high school graduate. It was supposed to be the kids who grew up and moved away, not the parents.

Awkwardly, I asked, “So how much rent are we talking?”

Mom smiled warmly. “We think $500 is fair.”

Five hundred dollars was a bargain. Libby and I could easily swing $250 each. “So how soon are you going? You said a couple weeks?”

“Dad starts his new job in two weeks. We’re planning to drive down this weekend. We have to find a house and get situated. No more Midwest winters! I can’t wait.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now? You’re just leaving?”

Mom answered apologetically, “Dad wasn’t sure the promotion was going to happen. He wouldn’t have accepted the transfer without it. He found out last night. The timing was right, and it was too good of an offer to turn down.”

Libby piped in as if to convince me that this wasn’t the strangest event ever. “I’ll be working full-time. I could pay half, maybe even more than half since you’re going to school. It’ll be great. Just you and me.”

It was sort of great, at least in the beginning it was great. My parents moved away the Saturday after I graduated. What few possessions Libby had were moved in Saturday night. So began my adventures with Libby.

Click here to download the entire book: Nancy Straight’s His Frozen Heart>>>

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Free Romance of The Week Excerpt Featuring HIS FROZEN HEART by Nancy Straight, author of Blood Debt & Meeting Destiny

Last week we announced that Nancy Straight’s His Frozen Heart is our Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded His Frozen Heart, you’re in for a real treat:

His Frozen Heart (Brewer Brothers Book 1)

by Nancy Straight

His Frozen Heart (Brewer Brothers Book 1)
Kindle Price: 99 cents

4.9 stars – 15 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled

Here’s the set-up:

For best friends, Candy and Libby, money is tight with hardly enough to cover their living expenses. When they are desperate for grocery money, the girls bet on their pool playing skills to add to their income.

A simple wager on a quiet winter evening has devastating results, with a stalker determined to kill them both. With Libby in the hospital after a vicious attack, and Candy being pursued by the same stalker, she vows to find Libby’s attacker.

What she finds is Dave, an old friend with a secret past filled with misfortune. Will Dave’s past provide the answer to all of Candy’s problems or will it become Candy’s worst nightmare realized?

*  *  *

Free and Bargain Quality eBooks delivered straight to your email everyday – Subscribe now http://www.bookgorilla.com/kcc

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  And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free romance excerpt:

Chapter 1

 

I ran to the shadow of an enormous maple tree and crouched low to the ground. I couldn’t believe I had let Libby talk me into this. We had set our alarm clock for 2 AM, then sneaked out of my house while my parents were sound asleep. Libby was ticked off about some stupid science assignment over spring break. She believed she had been purposely singled out by Mr. Brinks. I pointed out that her entire class had a project to work on over the break, but she insisted her assigned project was more difficult than everyone else’s.

Still confident that this was the dumbest idea she had come up with in months, I asked, “You’re sure this is his house?”

“Of course, I’m sure. I wrote down the house number today, 811 Stone Avenue.”

I eyed the small scrap of paper in her hand – only the number was scrawled down. “You’re sure this is the right street?”

“C’mon already. Yes, his address is 811 Stone Avenue. Do you need me to break in and steal a piece of his mail?”

I was struggling to find a way to talk her out of her plan. Delaying, I pointed at the driveway, “I thought he drove a blue four-door car?”

Her gaze drifted to the driveway where a red SUV was parked. She shrugged my question off, “Maybe he keeps it in the garage.”

“Or maybe this isn’t the right address.” I eyed the upscale neighborhood where the two-story brick home stood. It had a three car garage, and there looked to be a detached guest house in the back. This didn’t look like the sort of home a high school science teacher could afford.

Libby scowled at me, “It’s the right address. Are you going to help me or not?”

I took another look at the SUV. The license plate caught my eye: it was a vanity plate that read: SUPRINT. “What do you think the license plate stands for?”

Libby barked, “Surprise instantly, super instantly, super instructor. . . who knows, he’s a dork. If you aren’t going to help me, go wait in the car.”

As much as I hated this idea, I couldn’t let Libby do it on her own. I grabbed a roll of toilet paper, “Okay. I’m helping. I’ll take the trees, you do the house.”

“You’re the best.” Those were the last words spoken before the two of us set off an external alarm and the house lit up like Caesar’s Palace. A computerized voice began to broadcast, “Intruder alert,” every five seconds. Flood lights poured down onto the grass from several points on the roof. Lights in the house turned on, then the computerized voice coming through the loud speaker shut off. We had obviously awakened Mr. Brinks, and he was about to catch us red-handed teepeeing his house. I froze. I willed my legs to move, but they ignored me.

The front door opened and Mr. Brink’s voice shouted from the front porch, “Who’s out there?”

I was sort of hidden in the shadows when I heard Libby’s voice whisper to me. “Candy, I’ll distract him. You get home. You were never here.”

Before I could stop her or try to tell her I wasn’t leaving her, Libby skipped from out of the shadows – not walked, not ran, but skipped. She overexaggerated her movements, nearly dancing in circles in the glow of all the lights. The man on the porch adjusted his glasses, cinched his bathrobe up tight, then reality hit me that this was definitely not Mr. Brinks. Whoever this man was, he was not happy about a girl skipping through his yard with a roll of toilet paper in the middle of the night.

The man shouted, “Who are you?   What are you doing?”

In a shrill voice, Libby shouted, “I’m the gingerbread girl, and you can’t catch me.” She sprinted around the side of his house and into the side yard. As soon as his attention was diverted, I ran across the street and tucked behind his neighbor’s garbage can. My heart raced, I wiped my palms on my jeans, and it sounded like I was breathing heavy enough to be a prank telephone caller.

I couldn’t leave Libby. I needed to delay the man who was now rounding the side of his house chasing her. It was my turn to create a distraction for her. I looked at the SUV, which had a small red flashing light above the rearview mirror indicating the alarm had been set. I knew what I needed to do. I darted back across the street, ran up to the side of the SUV and kicked it as hard as I could.

The vehicle’s alarm blared to life as I ran back to the safety of the garbage cans where I had taken cover minutes before. The SUV flashed its lights, a loud siren awoke every neighbor who had managed to sleep through the previous alarm and the man’s shouting. The man ran from around the side of the house where he had chased Libby, onto the porch, and through his front door. A minute later he reemerged from his front door holding a remote to turn off the vehicle’s loud plea for help.

This had been enough time for Libby to run over to my side of the street and squat down beside me behind the garbage cans. I whisper shouted at her, “Couldn’t stay up and watch old movies. Couldn’t surf YouTube. No, you have to teepee your teacher’s house. Oh, wait, scratch that, teepee a stranger’s house.”

She answered me with an enormous smile and mischievous eyes, “Admit it. This is soooooo better than braiding each other’s hair and painting our nails.”

A voice shouted from directly behind us. “They’re over here. There’s two of ‘em. I already called the police.”

The two of us popped up from behind the garbage cans and ran full-speed down the street away from the ruckus we had caused. We ran the four city blocks straight to where we had left my car. Libby made my life interesting. She was never one to see the flaws of a plan before initiating it – life with Libby was an adventure. We both watched for police cars as I drove home, but didn’t pass a single squad car. I turned off the car and coasted it into place so as not to wake up my parents. We both sat there in front of my house for several minutes before our breathing slowed and Libby asked, “What do you want to do now?”

“Now? We almost got thrown in jail. I want to go to bed.”

Libby snarked, “We did not almost get thrown in jail. We didn’t even see one police car.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Well, no. But since we already sneaked out, maybe we should make the most of it. It might be risky trying to sneak back into your house.”

“So, what’s your plan? Sleep in my car?”

“We could go out to the lake and see if anyone were there tonight.”

“The lake? If anyone was there, the police have already sent them packing and confiscated the beer. C’mon, let’s get in before anyone notices we’ve gone.”

She reluctantly followed me inside; we had been gone less than an hour. The next morning, Libby was on the computer when I woke up to, “Oh, crap, it was 118.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I asked, “What was 118?”

“Mr. Brink’s address. I just wrote the house number down because I knew I could remember the street. His address is 118 Stone Avenue; we went to 811 Stone Avenue last night.” She paused for a minute, “Want to try again tonight?”

She handed me the slip of paper from last night which read 811; when I turned it upside down it read 118. That was Libby. Once she got something in her head, the only way to get it out was to follow her blindly on whatever objective she had set her sights on.

 

*****

 

The memory of that adventure played through my head as I tuned out the commencement ceremony. Returning to reality, I listened to our class valedictorian’s speech drone on. A smile formed when it hit me that every happy high school memory I had was with Libby. When the valedictorian’s speech ended with the cliché, “This is the first day of the rest of our lives,” I was sure I would puke.

Luckily the rest of the ceremony moved faster. The superintendent stood in front of the lectern handing diplomas to each student. Beads of sweat formed on my brow as I accepted mine, and decided he looked even more intimidating in a suit than he did in his bathrobe at two in the morning. SUPRINT on the red SUV did not stand for “super instructor,” as Libby had surmised. I was already back in my seat holding my diploma when Libby’s name was called, and I was anxious to see her reaction to the superintendent up close. A slurred voice shouted from the risers, “That’s my girl.”

I saw her stop to look where the shout had come from. Her dad was here. She placed one hand on her square hat, holding it in place, while her other hand waved like crazy to the voice above. Libby had ridden with me to the ceremony. When I’d asked her if her dad was coming to graduation, her answer sounded defeated, “He doesn’t like crowds.”

Libby had grown up with only her dad.   He had a tough time holding a job, and for the same reason had a tough time keeping a decent place to live. She moved a lot. Growing up, Libby had spent almost every weekend at my house. When I was younger, I never understood why I couldn’t go to her house to spend the night. Mom always manufactured a good reason for why I couldn’t go over, but welcomed Libby to stay with us. It wasn’t until I was a teenager and could drive that I saw where she lived first hand and was grateful Mom had never given in to my pleading.

After the ceremony was over, we found each other. I asked, “Is your dad giving you a ride home?”

“No. I’m going back to your house with you.” Libby had stayed with me the last two weeks. She said it was because she didn’t want me to have to drive across town and pick her up, but I was guessing her dad had drunk their rent money again, so they were locked out of the apartment. There was a month when we were in eighth grade where both of them lived in his truck. A few of the nights were so cold that they had to stay in a homeless shelter.

Not wanting to pry about her dad’s abrupt departure, I said, “Great. I got you a present.”

A huge smile formed on her lips, “Oh, me, too!” She reached into her pocket and took out a handmade red and white friendship bracelet. I’d seen her make these before. It was made of knotted embroidery floss, but she had made it with my name in it: Candy. I’d watched her make simple ones that took all weekend: one with my name in it must have taken her several weeks.

I looked at the wrapped box in the back seat of my car. After seeing the bracelet she had made for me, I felt like I had cheated her. She tore through the wrapping paper and stared at the two little eyes peering out through the box’s lid. Libby had collected turtles for as long as I could remember – she had hundreds in all shapes and sizes.

I watched in horror as tears welled up in her eyes. I stammered, “What’s wrong? If you don’t like it, I can take it back. I thought you liked turtles.”

She shook her head. She reached across the bench seat of my car and grabbed my neck in a tight embrace. I froze. Libby let me go, then wiped her eyes trying to keep her eyeliner from running. “Until I met you, I was a turtle. That’s how I saw myself. Anytime someone got too close to me, I would hide in my shell. You were the first person I could be out of my shell around.”

So the valedictorian’s speech hadn’t been that monumental. I was sort of excited for Libby that her dad had sobered up long enough to watch her get her diploma. But it was Libby’s response to the little stuffed turtle that yanked on my heart.

She smiled, “Let’s go see if Mom needs help getting ready for the party.” Libby never knew her mom: they had met a few times, but it was Libby’s dad who raised her. One day she just started calling my mom, “Mom.”

When we pulled up to my house, a huge banner hung down from the roof of the front porch. “Congratulations Candy and Libby.” We may not have been sisters by blood, but in every other sense of the word we were. It was a typical graduation party: relatives I hadn’t seen since my older sister’s high school graduation, neighbors, my parent’s friends – snore. After the last of the guests departed, Libby and I went upstairs to my room to change so we could go to a couple fun parties. Mom knocked on my door, peeked through the opening and asked, “Got a minute?”

“Sure. C’mon in.”

Mom was beaming when she said, “We’re so proud of both of you girls.” She sat on the edge of my bed, “Libby, have you picked a college?”

“No. I’m going to work for a year or so to figure out what I want to do.”

“Good. Maybe you can help Candy with rent.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Rent? You’re going to charge me to live here?”

Mom smiled. “That’s up to you. Dad got a job in New Mexico. He needs to start there in two weeks.”

Did I hear her right? “You’re moving to New Mexico? But why?”

“Dad’s company has wanted to transfer him for years, but he wouldn’t move while you and your sisters were still at home. His boss offered him a promotion if he transferred – Dad accepted.”

I had heard my parents talk about a transfer a few times, but each time I started to get seriously nervous about it, Dad told me he wouldn’t uproot me or my sisters. Now I was officially an adult: I had turned eighteen last month, and, as of four hours ago, I was a high school graduate. It was supposed to be the kids who grew up and moved away, not the parents.

Awkwardly, I asked, “So how much rent are we talking?”

Mom smiled warmly. “We think $500 is fair.”

Five hundred dollars was a bargain. Libby and I could easily swing $250 each. “So how soon are you going? You said a couple weeks?”

“Dad starts his new job in two weeks. We’re planning to drive down this weekend. We have to find a house and get situated. No more Midwest winters! I can’t wait.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now? You’re just leaving?”

Mom answered apologetically, “Dad wasn’t sure the promotion was going to happen. He wouldn’t have accepted the transfer without it. He found out last night. The timing was right, and it was too good of an offer to turn down.”

Libby piped in as if to convince me that this wasn’t the strangest event ever. “I’ll be working full-time. I could pay half, maybe even more than half since you’re going to school. It’ll be great. Just you and me.”

It was sort of great, at least in the beginning it was great. My parents moved away the Saturday after I graduated. What few possessions Libby had were moved in Saturday night. So began my adventures with Libby.

Click here to download the entire book: Nancy Straight’s His Frozen Heart>>>

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Pre-order now for just 99 cents, for auto-delivery to Kindle on Nov. 9!
HIS FROZEN HEART by Nancy Straight, author of Blood Debt & Meeting Destiny

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His Frozen Heart (Brewer Brothers Book 1)

by Nancy Straight

His Frozen Heart (Brewer Brothers Book 1)
Kindle Price: 99 cents
Special Pre-Release Sale! (After release week price $3.99)
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled

Here’s the set-up:

For best friends, Candy and Libby, money is tight with hardly enough to cover their living expenses. When they are desperate for grocery money, the girls bet on their pool playing skills to add to their income.
A simple wager on a quiet winter evening has devastating results, with a stalker determined to kill them both. With Libby in the hospital after a vicious attack, and Candy being pursued by the same stalker, she vows to find Libby’s attacker.
What she finds is Dave, an old friend with a secret past filled with misfortune. Will Dave’s past provide the answer to all of Candy’s problems or will it become Candy’s worst nightmare realized?

Click here to visit Nancy Straight’s Amazon author page

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