Twelve years ago, forensic anthropologist Jamie Cash survived a brutal kidnapping, torture, and rape. After years of therapy, she has made a life for herself—though one that is haunted by memories of her terrifying past.
She finally lets herself get close to a man, FBI agent Dakota Richards, when signs start appearing that point to one frightening fact—her attacker is back and ready to finish the job he started all those year ago. Can she escape his grasp a second time? And will she ever be able to let down her guard enough to find true love?
Filled with heart-stopping suspense, gritty realism, and a touch of romance,Don't Look Backis the second book in the Women of Justice series.
Readers will be hooked from the beginning, finding that once you are in Lynette Eason's world, you're trapped until you turn the very last page.
Lynette Eason is the author of Too Close to Home and three other romantic suspense novels. She is a member of American Fiction Christian Writers and Romance Writers of America. A homeschooling mother of two, she has a master's degree in education from Converse College. She lives in South Carolina.
Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group, offers practical books that bring the Christian faith to everyday life. They publish resources from a variety of well-known brands and authors, including their partnership with MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) and Hungry Planet.
DON’T LOOK BACK, the second installment in the Woman of Justice series by Lynette Eason, is another riveting story that compels you to turn page after page.
Jamie Cash is a survivor.Twelve years ago, she was the victim of a psychopath who assaulted her, tortured her, and left her for dead.Strong willed and determined, Jamie has fought her way back from victim to success story.Now a forensic anthropologist, Jamie works with the medical examiner’s office to bring closure to cold cases, and speak for victims that would otherwise have no voice.
FBI Special Agent Dakota Richards is in love with Jamie, even though they have never even dated.Partnered with Jamie’s brother-in-law, Connor Wolfe, Dakota spends time with Jamie at work and socially, but she has never let him into her personal space.When Dakota finds out about the attack that nearly killed Jamie, he understands better her at-arms-length friendship, but is determined to break through the barriers Jamie has erected and show her she can trust again.
Just as Jamie begins to believe she can have a normal life and a relationship with Dakota, her worst nightmare comes to light.Her attacker is back to finish the job he started twelve years ago.Doing all she kind to fight the fear that paralyzed her for so many years, Jamie decides she will not let a maniac manipulate her.She will fight him, even if it means losing her own life.
Gripping action!Great suspense!DON’T LOOK BACK is everything I look for in a suspense novel.Even though I knew early on who Jamie’s attacker was, the story that unfolded was a thrill to devour.Knowing there will be at least be one more installment in the Women of Justice series (clues from the Epilogue), I will waited anxiously for its release.
Book provided for review purposes.
Available October 2010 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to MaryLu Tyndall and Camy Tang for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
M.L. Tyndall, a Christy Award Finalist, and best-selling author of the Legacy of the King’s Pirates series is known for her adventurous historical romances filled with deep spiritual themes. She holds a degree in Math and worked as a software engineer for fifteen years before testing the waters as a writer. MaryLu currently writes full time and makes her home on the California coast with her husband, six kids, and four cats. Her passion is to write page-turning, romantic adventures that not only entertain but expose Christians to their full potential in Christ. For more information on MaryLu and her upcoming releases, please visit her website or her blog.
Visit the author's website. Visit the author's blog.
Product Details:
List Price: $12.99 Paperback: 368 pages Publisher: Barbour Books (August 1, 2010) Language: English ISBN-10: 1602601658 ISBN-13: 978-1602601659
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
June 18, 1812, Baltimore, Maryland
“I would rather boil in oil than marry Noah Brenin.” Marianne tossed the silver brooch onto her vanity.
“Hold your breath and stay still.” Rose said from behind her. “Besides, it is only an engagement party, not a wedding.”
“But it is one more step to that horrid destination.” Marianne sucked in her breath as Rose threaded the laces through the eyelets on her stays. “Why must women wear these contraptions?”
“To look our best for the gentlemen in our lives.” Cassandra appeared on Marianne’s left, a lacy petticoat flung over one arm. With shimmering auburn hair and eyes the color of emeralds, Cassandra had no trouble looking her best for anyone.
Marianne huffed. “I have no care what any gentleman thinks of my appearance.”
“Which is why you are still unmarried at five and twenty.”
“Then what is your excuse at three and twenty?” Marianne arched a brow, to which Cassandra responded with a shrug. “I have not yet met a man worthy of me.” She grinned.
“Where on earth is your chambermaid?” Rose grunted as she squeezed Marianne’s rounded figure into the stays and tied the final lace tight. “Shouldn’t she be doing this?”
“I dismissed her.” Marianne waved a hand through the air. “I prefer to dress myself.” She hoped they didn’t hear the slight quaver in her voice. If only they knew that her mother had been forced to let the entire staff go and the ones here today were hired just for her betrothal party.
“There.” Rose finished her work and stepped back as Marianne took the petticoat from Cassandra and slipped it over her head.
“Truth is, I do not wish to marry—ever.” Marianne squared her shoulders as Cassandra slid behind her and latched the petticoat hooks.
Rose put her hands on her waist. “Noah Brenin is a fine man and a good catch.”
Marianne gazed at her friend and couldn’t help but smile at the motherly reprimand burning in her crystal blue eyes. Tall and slender, with honey blond hair, Rose turned many a head in Baltimore. Just like Cassandra.
But not like Marianne.
“He is a boor.”
“Why so low an opinion of him? Haven’t you and he been friends since childhood?” Rose cocked her head and gave Marianne a look of censure.
“I wouldn’t call it friendship, more like forced acquaintance. And my knowledge of him is precisely why I know him for the churlish clod he is.”
Gathering a cream-colored silk-embroidered gown from Marianne’s bed, Rose and Cassandra tossed it over her head and assisted her as she wiggled into it. She adjusted the ruffled lace bordering her neckline and circling her puffy sleeves. Cassandra handed her a jeweled belt which Marianne strapped around her high waist and buckled in front. She pressed down the folds of her gown, admiring the pink lace trailing down the front and trimming the hemline. After slipping on her white satin slippers, Marianne moved to the full length looking glass and paused to eye her reflection.
Plain. Despite the shimmering, glamorous dress, plain was the first word that came to her mind. Perhaps because that was how she had always been described. Brown hair, brown eyes, average height, a bit plump. Nothing remarkable, nothing to catch an eye.
Simply plain.
Which was precisely why, when the other girls her age were being courted, Marianne had preferred to spend her time caring for her ailing mother and younger sister, particularly after their father died. No whirlwind romances, no soirees, no grand adventures lit up the horizon for her. She had resigned herself to lead an ordinary life. An ordinary life for an ordinary girl.
“Come now, it won’t be so bad.” Rose brushed a lock of hair from Marianne’s forehead and then straightened one of the curls dangling about her neck. “You look as though you were attending your own funeral.”
“I dare say I feel as though I am.” Tired of staring into the mirror with the hope her reflection would transform into that of a beautiful woman, Marianne turned aside, picked up her silk gloves from the vanity and sauntered toward the window.
“I, for one, cannot wait to get married,” Rose said. “To the right man of course. He must be a good, honest, god-fearing man. A man who stays home, not a seaman. And he must be agreeable in all respects.”
“What about handsome?” Cassandra asked, and Marianne turned to see a blush creep up Rose’s neck.
“Well, yes, I suppose I would not be opposed to that.” Her blue eyes twinkled.
Facing the window, Marianne slid the white gloves onto her hands and tugged them up her arms. Shouts echoed from the street below, accompanied by the clip clop of horse hooves and the grating of carriage wheels. She brushed aside the curtain to see people running to and fro darting between carriages. A warm breeze, heavy with moisture and the smells of the sea, stirred the curtains. A bell rang in the distance, drawing Marianne’s attention to the maze of ship’s masts thrusting into the blue sky like iron bars of a prison. A prison that could not constrain the ravenous blue waters from feeding upon the innocent—an innocent like her father.
Rose and Cassandra joined her at the window as more shouts blasted in with the wind. “What is all the commotion about?” Cassandra pushed back the other side of the curtains.
“There have been rumors that President Madison will soon declare war on Britain,” Marianne said.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.” Rose peered over Marianne’s shoulder. “War is such horrid business.”
“But necessary if the British insist on stealing our men from land and sea and impressing them into their Navy.” Marianne felt her ire rising. “Not to mention how they rouse the Indians to attack us on the frontier.”
“They want their colonies back, I suppose.” Afternoon sunlight set Cassandra’s red hair aflame in ribbons of liquid fire. “England never was good at losing.”
“Well they can’t have them.” Marianne’s voice rose with a determination she felt building within. Though she’d been born after the Revolution, she had heard the stories of oppression and tyranny enforced upon them by a nation across the seas whose king thought he had the right to dictate laws and taxes without giving the people a voice. But no more. “We won our freedom from them. We are a nation now. A new nation that represents liberty to the entire world.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Cassandra nodded with a smile. “Perhaps you should run for mayor?”
“A woman in public office?” Marianne chuckled. “That will never happen.”
The door creaked open, and Marianne turned to see her mother and younger sister slip inside.
Lizzie’s eyes widened and she rushed toward Marianne. “You look so beautiful, Marianne!”
Kneeling, Marianne embraced her sister. She held her tight and took a big whiff of the lavender soap with which their mother always scrubbed the little girl. “Thank you, Lizzie. I can always count on you for a compliment.”
“Now, Lizzie, don’t wrinkle your sister’s dress.” Marianne’s mother sank into one of the chairs by the fireplace and winced. The slight reminder of her mother’s pain caused Marianne’s heart to shrink. She squeezed her little sister again—the one beacon of joy in their house these past three years since Father died—and kissed her on the cheek. “You look very beautiful too.”
The little girl clutched her skirt and twirled around. “Do you really think so?” She drew her lips into a pout. “But when can I wear a dress like yours?”
“Come now, Lizzie,” Mother said. “You are only six. When you are a grown woman like Marianne, you may wear more elaborate gowns.” She gestured toward Rose and Cassandra. “Ladies, would you take Lizzie downstairs for a moment? I need a word with Marianne.”
“Of course, Mrs. Denton.” Rose took Lizzie’s hand. “Come along little one.”
Cassandra followed after them and closed the door.
Marianne sat in the chair beside her mother and gently grasped her hands. She flinched at how cold and moist they were. “How are you feeling, Mama?”
“Very well today, dear.” She looked down as if hiding something..
But Marianne didn’t need to look in her mother’s eyes to know she was lying. The sprinkles of perspiration on her forehead, the paleness of her skin, and the tightening of her lips when the pains hit spoke more clearly than any words.
Marianne squeezed her mother’s hands. “The medicaments are not working?”
“They will work. It takes time.” Her mother attempted a smile. “But let us not talk of that now. I have something more important to discuss with you.” She released a heavy sigh then lifted her gaze to Marianne’s. Though illness had stolen the glimmer from her eyes, it could not hide the sweet kindness of her soul. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
The truth of her words sliced through Marianne. She stared at the floral pattern woven into the carpet. “You know I do.”
“It isn’t fair of me to ask this of you.” Her mother’s voice rang with conviction and deep sorrow.
“You didn’t ask, Mama. I want to do this.” A truth followed by a lie. Marianne hoped the good canceled out the bad.
“Come now. You cannot fool me.” Mama said. “I know this is not the match you would choose.”
Releasing her mother’s hands, Marianne rose from the chair and sauntered toward the window. The rustle of her gown crackled through the air with conviction. “In truth, I would choose no match.” She turned and forced a smile. “So if I must marry, why not this man?”
Her mother gazed at her with such love and sorrow that Marianne felt her heart would burst. Once considered the most beautiful woman in Baltimore, Jane Denton, now withered away with the sickness that robbed her of her glow and luster and stole the fat from her bones, leaving her but a frail skeleton of what she once had been. The physicians had no idea what ailed her save that without the medicaments they administered, she would die a quicker and more painful death.
Tearing her gaze from the tragic vision, Marianne glanced out the window where it seemed as though the approaching evening only heightened the citizens’ agitation. “Marrying Noah Brenin will save us. It will save you.”
“But what of saving you?” Her mother’s sweet plea caressed Marianne’s ears, but she forced down the spark of hope that dared to rise at her mother’s question. There was no room for hope now, only necessity.
“You know if we continue as is, all that is left of our fortune will be spent in one year on your medicaments. Then what will we do? Without my dowry, no man will look my way, since that and our good name is all that has caught this particular fish upon the hook.” And without a husband to unlock her inheritance, her father had ensured that the seven thousand dollars would remain as far from her reach as if she did not own it at all.
“Perhaps you will meet another man—someone you love?” Her mother said.
“Mama, I am five and twenty.” Marianne turned and waved her hands over herself. “And plain to look at.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Do you see suitors lining up at our door?”
“You are too beautiful for words, dearest.” Her mother’s eyes beamed in adoration. “You just don’t know it yet.”
Shrugging off her mother’s compliment as the obligation of a parent, Marianne stiffened her back before she attempted to rekindle an argument long since put to death. “We could take what’s left of our money and fund a privateer, Mama.” Marianne glanced out the window at a mob that had formed down the street. “War is certain and our fledgling navy will need all the help it can get.”
Her mother’s nervous huff drew Marianne’s gaze. “It is far too much of a gamble. And gambling destroys lives”—a glaze covered her mother’s eyes as she stared into the room—“and families.”
Marianne grimaced. “I am not like Papa. I have heard these privateers can make a fortune while helping to defend our country.”
A breeze stirred a curled wisp of her mother’s hair as she gazed at Marianne with concern.
Marianne twisted the ring on her finger. “Down at the docks, merchantmen are already outfitted their ships as privateers. The call for investors goes out daily.” If only she could convince her mother, not only would Marianne not have to marry that clod, Noah, but she could do something to help this great nation of hers.
Her mother’s boney hands perched in her lap began to tremble. “We could lose everything. And what of Lizzie? I could not bare it.”
Shame drummed upon Marianne’s hopes. She had upset her mother when the doctor strictly instructed her to keep her calm.
“Perhaps a trade of some sort?” Mama offered. “I hear that Mrs. Pickersgill makes a decent living sewing ensigns.”
A blast of warm wind stirred the gauzy curtains and cooled the perspiration forming on Marianne’s neck. “Mama you know I have no skills. I’m not like other ladies. The last gown I attempted to sew fell apart. My cooking would drive the hardiest frontiersman back to the woods, and the pianoforte runs when it sees me coming.”
Mother chuckled. “You exaggerate, dearest.”
But Marianne could tell by the look in her mother’s eyes that despite the humorous delivery, her words rang true. Though a governess in her younger years and her mother in her later years had strived to teach Marianne the skills every proper lady should acquire, she had found them nothing but tedious. She possessed no useful skills, no talents. As her father had so often declared before his death. In essence, Marianne had nothing to offer. If her mother would not agree to fund a privateer, Marianne would have to accept her fate in marriage.
“I’m an old woman and will die soon anyway,” Mama said with a sigh. “But I must ensure you and Lizzie are cared for.”
Gathering her skirts, Marianne dashed toward her mother and knelt at her feet. “You must never say such a thing.”
“Do not soil your beautiful gown.” Her mother smiled and wiped a tear from Marianne’s cheek. “Perhaps we should simply trust God with my health and let His will prevail.”
Marianne laid her head on her mother’s lap like she used to do as a child. She had trusted her father, she had trusted God.
And they had both let her down—her and her mother.
Trust no longer came so easily. “I will not let you die, Mother. I cannot.” Her eyes burned with tears. “As long as I have my inheritance and a man who is willing to marry me, I promise you will be well cared for. And Lizzie too. That is all that matters, now.” Marianne lifted her gaze to her mother’s, feeling strength surge through her.
“And mark my words, Mama. Nothing will stand in my way. Especially not Noah Brenin.”
M.L. Tyndall has done it again! SURRENDER THE HEART, her latest novel, and the first in the Surrender to Destiny Series, kept me on the edge of my chair, or should I say pressed to the rail of yet another sea-faring adventure.
Marianne Denton has found herself in a no-win situation. She is betrothed to Noah Brenin, an insufferable foe from her childhood. Not only will their union be out of need so that Marianne can unlock her inheritance left to her from her father, but we find out that Noah Brenin’s only interest in Marianne is to receive her dowry and help with his own family’s fortune. Marianne is willing to make the sacrifice of marrying Captain Brenin, only because her mother is in ill health and she must get the funds from her dowry to pay for her mother’s medical expenses.
When Marianne is shunned by Noah at their engagement party, she follows him onto his ship, the Fortune, and ends up setting sail with the rude and incorrigible captain Brenin. Marianne is soon discovered and insists that Noah turn the ship around and take her home to her ailing mother. Noah refuses because he needs to make his destination quickly to off-load his cargo and receive the income for his goods.
Noah is less than thrilled to see Marianne, but soon realizes she isn’t the insufferable snob he grew up with. Something about Marianne has changed and it is wreaking havoc with Noah’s senses. Not wanting Marianne to suffer embarrassment by breaking off their engagement, Noah decides to treat Marianne rudely and of little worth, so that she will be the one to break their engagement and thus save her reputation. Though Noah tries to play the part of a cad, his heart begins to attach itself to one Miss Marianne Denton, and as much as Marianne tells herself that Noah is only a pawn in her plan to pay for her mother’s medical needs, she soon sees another side of Captain Brenin and feels the strings of her heart pulled in his direction.
Action, adventure, the give-and-take of unrequited love, and the ultimate realization that what is shared is a genuine love, SURRENDER THE HEART takes you on a tumultuous journey, much like the seas that the Fortune must navigate in order to bring both our hero and heroine safely home.
Book provided for review purposes.
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Staci Carmichael, Marketing and Publicity Coordinator, Doubleday Religion/Waterbrook Multnomah for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
WANDA DYSON lives on a working horse farm, boarding and keeping a menagerie of critters. After writing three critically-acclaimed suspense novels, Wanda was asked to co-author the true story of Tina Zahn, Why I Jumped, a non-fiction work for which both Wanda and Tina appeared on Oprah. Wanda is a licensed Christian counselor who specializes in helping women recover from depression, anxiety, rejection, and the long-term effects of sexual and physical assault.
List Price: $13.99 Paperback: 352 pages Publisher: WaterBrook Press (September 21, 2010) Language: English ISBN-10: 1400074754 ISBN-13: 978-1400074754:
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Prologue
Friday, April 3. Baltimore, MD
Running away from home had sounded like the best idea ever when she was planning it, but now that sixteen-year-old Britney Abbott was tired, hungry, and out of money, it felt more like the biggest mistake of her life. She climbed down off the bus, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and wondered where she was going to sleep for the night.
If only her mother hadn’t married that jerk. He was so strict. According to Ronnie, Britney couldn’t date, couldn’t stay over at a friend’s for the night, and she had to be in the house no later than seven every evening. None of her friends had to live like that.
Last Saturday night her mom and Ronnie went out to dinner, leaving her home alone with the usual litany of instructions: You cannot have anyone over. You will do your homework. You will be in bed by ten. You will not spend the evening on the phone with your friends. And you will not—I repeat, not—leave this house; I am going to call and if you aren’t here to answer the phone, you will be grounded for a month.
Fifteen minutes after they left, Ronnie-the-Predictable called. She answered the phone. An hour and a half later, she was gone.
She looked around at the crowds dispersing in several directions. The smell of diesel fuel overwhelmed her empty stomach and it growled in protest. Everything looked the way she felt— worn-out, dirty, and depressed.
“Hey, you okay?” A girl stood against the wall near the exit from the bus station. Torn jeans, pink T-shirt, high top sneakers, leather jacket, and numerous rings and studs from ear to nose to lip.
“Yeah, I’m cool.”
“You look hungry. I was just going over to Mickey D’s. You wanna come?”
“No money.”
“It’s okay. I think I can buy you a hamburger and some fries.”
Britney was hungry enough to be tempted and wary enough to wonder why the girl would make such an offer. “Me?”
“Yeah.” The girl walked over. “My name’s Kathi. I came to Washington about five months ago. A friend of mine was supposed to be on the bus but either her parents caught her trying to run away or she changed her mind.”
“You’re a runaway?”
Kathi laughed as she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket. “Look around, girl. There are lots of us. We come to DC to get away. Some stay, some move on to Chicago or New York.”
Britney felt relieved to know she wasn’t alone. “Okay. I’ll take a hamburger. Thanks.”
Kathi linked her arm in Britney’s and led her down the street toward the Golden Arches. “What’s your name?”
“Britney.”
“Well, let’s get you something to eat and then you can crash at my place.”
They chatted as they ate their food and drank their sodas, and with each passing minute, Britney liked Kathi more. She might look a little tough, but Britney supposed that living on the streets, you had to be. Her appearance aside, Kathi seemed friendly and generous.
They were about a block past McDonald’s when a woozy feeling interrupted their conversation. When she stumbled, Kathi steadied her. “You okay?”
“Just lightheaded.”
“Tired, more than likely. It’s not far to my place.”
But Britney’s body felt heavier with each step. She struggled to stay awake. She had never felt this way before in her entire life. Not even after staying up for two straight days studying for a math test.
“I don’t feel so good.”
“We’re almost there,” Kathi told her. “Just down this way.”
Britney didn’t like the dark alley or the dark van parked there with the motor running, but she couldn’t find the strength to resist Kathi’s pull on her arm.
As they passed the van, the side door opened and a man
stepped out. “Too bad she’s such a looker.”
“Yeah, well,” Kathi replied. “You get what I can find.”
The man picked up Britney and tossed her into the van. Britney tried to call out, tried to resist, but she could no longer control her arms or legs. She could only lie there and let the fear grow and build until the scream inside felt like an explosion in her head.
The man duct-taped her arms and legs. Then he placed a piece over her mouth. “Don’t worry, kid. This will be over real soon.”
1
Wednesday, April 15. Outside Washington DC
Suzanne Kidwell shoved her tape recorder in the cop’s face, smiling up at him as if he were the hero in her own personal story. “We have two girls missing now and both were students at Longview High. Are you looking at the faculty and staff at the school?”
The officer puffed a bit, squaring his shoulders and thrusting out his chest as he hiked up his utility belt. “You have to understand that we haven’t finished our investigation, but I can tell you that we found pornography on the principal’s computer. I’d say we’re just hours away from arresting him.”
She lightly traced a glossy red nail down his forearm. “I knew I came to the right man. You have that air of authority and competence. And I’ll bet you were the one who sent those detectives in the right direction too.”
He dropped his head in one of those “aw shucks, ma’am” moves. “Well, I did tell them that he had been arrested about ten years ago for assault.”
“And they made a man like that the principal. What is this world coming to?” Before he could comment, she hit him with another question. “Has he told you yet what he did with the girls?”
“Not yet. He’s still insisting he’s innocent, but it’s just a matter of time before we get a confession out of him.”
“Thank you so much, Officer. You’re a hero. Those girls would be dead without you.”
He blushed hard as she hurried off, lobbing him another dazzling smile as she calculated her timetable. It was nearly four and she had to be ready and on the air at six, scooping every other network in the city.
At the station, she ran up the stairs to the second floor and jogged down to Frank’s office. “Is he in?” she asked his secretary.
“Sure. Go on in.”
If there was a dark spot anywhere in her job at all, it was Frank Dawson. The man delighted in hassling her. Professional jealousy, no doubt. She knocked on his doorjamb. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Like Frank, the room was heavy on shine and light on substance. Awards and diplomas covered all the walls. Pictures of Frank with politicians, presidents, and the wealthy, beautiful, and powerful were displayed prominently on all the bookshelves. His desk dominated the center of the room, covered in paperwork, tapes, and files.
“Sure.”
Suzanne took a deep breath, clutched her notes, and strode into his office. “You know the two local girls that went missing recently?”
He glanced up at the clock, a subtle reminder that she should be getting dressed and into makeup. “I think so.”
“Well, I’ve been doing some digging and they have a suspect.”
“And this is your business exactly why?”
“Because I scooped everyone else. I talked to one of the officers working the case and he told me that they have a suspect, they’re interrogating him now, and they expect to announce his arrest momentarily.”
“And what does this have to do with me?”
She stared at him for a long moment. “I want to go on the air with this late-breaking news.”
He scratched his chin. “Your show is already scheduled, Suzanne. Corruption in the horse industry.”
“I know that, and I can still do that. I just need five minutes at the end of the show to cover this. We’ve got the scoop! How can we not run with it?”
Waving a hand, he said, “Fine. Go with it. I sure hope you have all the facts.”
“I have them straight from the mouth of the police. How much more do you want?”
“Fine. Do it.”
Grinning, she rushed back down to wardrobe and makeup in record time, entering the studio with mere minutes to spare.
Suzanne looked over at one of the assistants. “Where’s my microphone?”
As someone rushed to get her miked up, the director walked in. “We have a job to do, people; let’s get to it. We’re on the air in two.”
She straightened her jacket as the assistant adjusted the small microphone clipped to her lapel. “It’s fine. Move.”
The cameraman finished the countdown with his fingers. Three…two…one. She fixed her expression.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” Suzanne turned slightly. “I’m Suzanne Kidwell. And this is Judgment Day.”
Suzanne took a deep breath while the station ran the introduction, taking a moment to straighten the notes in front of her and sip her water.
When the director pointed at her, she launched into the ongoing corruption and abuses endangering horse owners.
The camera shifted for a closeup. “And before I close tonight, I want to give you a late-breaking report. Just like you, I’ve been horrified by the tragic disappearance of teens here in the tristate area. But what made me truly sit up and take notice was that within the last two weeks, two young girls—seventeen-year-old Jennifer Link and sixteen-year-old Britney Abbott—were reported as runaways. Same neighborhood, same school, both runaways?
“Now maybe that could happen, but I was skeptical. I did some digging. And I’m happy to report that the police have arrested Peter Fryer, the principal of Longview High School.”
Suzanne changed her expression from a touch of sorrow mixed with concern to outrage. “I spoke to the lead officer and he told me that evidence against the principal included child pornography on Fryer’s computer. In spite of being arrested ten years ago for assault, Peter Fryer was hired on as the principal of Longview just four years ago. He is still denying any involvement, but the police assured me they have their man. I will keep you posted.”
She angled her body. “As long as people out there who betray our trust, there will be Judgment Day with Suzanne Kidwell. Good night, America. I’ll see you next week.”
As soon as she got the signal that she was clear, she pulled off her mike and stood up, grabbing her water as left the studio.
She rushed down the hall, and when she reached her office, she sank down into her chair and kicked off her shoes. She barely had time to curl her toes in the carpet before her phone rang.
She picked it up. “Great job, Suzanne.” It was Frank.
“Thanks, boss. I knew you’d be happy.”
“The phones are ringing off the hook. The other stations are scrambling to catch up to us.”
Smiling, she leaned back. “They’ll be eating our dust for a while now.”
Marcus Crisp is a professional.And though his dislike for Suzanne is evident, he’s been given a job to do.Clear her name.Along with his partner, Alexandria Fisher-Hawthorne, Marcus delves into Suzanne’s files and finds more than one person who could be responsible for Suzanne’s set-up.Soon, Suzanne, Marcus, and Alex find themselves the targets of attempted murder.Now Marcus’ job not only includes clearing Suzanne’s name but keep her and his partner alive.
JUDGMENT DAY was an intriguing read with a fast past storyline. I really enjoyed the banter between Marcus and Alex, and then I realized why.Much of their dialogue sounded like a scene you would fine between Anthony DiNozzo and Zeva David from the popular television show, NCIS, which happens to be one of my favorites.Though this fact had me questioning the uniqueness of Dyson’s two major characters, if did nothing to slow down my need to get to the end of the book and put my own suspicions to rest.JUDGMENT DAY is filled with suspense that would entertain both female and male readers alike.
