Police
negotiator, Lt. Jake Dillon, walked away from his fiancée Rachel
when she suddenly balked at having kids. His kids. Yet when the
hostage crisis erupts, Rachel calls Jake first. Now he has a choice
to make -- stand back and wait for the cavalry to save Rachel or step
in and try to save her himself. Time is running out, and Jake may be
their only chance for rescue.
Unless
Rachel's little angel-spying client is telling the truth…
Excerpt:
Late
in the afternoon, Rachel stepped up to Jake’s apartment door and
took a deep breath. Jerry Munson had been a good friend of Jake’s,
and she knew Jake would be devastated over Jerry losing his hostages
in Buckhead yesterday. Jake had a new partner too and may not want to
confide in the guy.
Jake
would need to talk to someone about the Buckhead crisis, and she
intended to offer her shoulder to lean on. He may not want to see
her, but she had to try. For one day, they could set aside their
troubles, and she could just be the friend he needed.
She
had gone by the station to check on him, when she finished her last
session, and had been shocked when Alice told her he’d called in
sick, almost as shocked as Alice had been to see Rachel show up in
Jake’s office.
Now
she second-guessed all her good intentions. What if Jake really was
sick? Should she leave? Should she still offer her help?
She
raised a finger to press his doorbell, and the front door jerked
open. Startled, she jumped back.
“Are
you gonna ring the damn bell or just stare at it all afternoon?” a
grizzle-faced Jake asked.
His
hair stuck out all over, and he had a two-day growth of beard that
gave him a dangerous look, compounded by the black tee shirt and
sweats he wore.
He
bent down until they were nose to nose. “Well?”
“Oh.
Um, y-yes, I was going to press the bell, but now the door’s open.”
He
straightened, his expression grim. “First Wally and now you.”
“What?”
“Wally
came by earlier to save me from my depression.” He stepped back and
held the door wide. “I assume that’s why you’re here. You
coming in?”
“Oh.
Yes.”
Her
heart thumped so hard she feared he could see the pulse in her neck
vibrate with each beat. He looked so sexy all rumpled up like that,
and her fingertips tingled again—needing to touch him anywhere to
complete the connection.
She
stepped past him and reminded herself she was only here today as a
friend and a counselor.
“You’d
only come to my apartment if you thought I was sick or needed help,
right?” Jake asked, reading her thoughts.
“Yes.
I mean, no.” She turned quickly to face him and caught the flash of
pain in his eyes. “I mean, I—”
Pain
from the Buckhead crisis or pain from her?
“Which
is it?” he asked flatly.
She
should have known he wouldn’t make this easy.
“I
went by the station first.”
That
apparently surprised him. He recovered quickly. “I’m still
waiting for the why.”
“You
called in sick. I wanted to see if you needed—”
“Needed
what, Rachel? You?”
He
closed the door, and the room suddenly shrunk. And grew dark. All the
blinds had been pulled, and the only light came from the nearby
television.
“I
thought maybe you’d need to talk about—”
She
stopped. He had taken two steps closer, and she couldn’t think. She
took a deep and very audible breath.
“You’ve
never been at a loss for words before, Rachel.”
“We’ve
never been broken up before,” she blurted.
His
eyes widened noticeably, then darkened. At least she thought they
did. Tough to tell by TV illumination.
“You’re
right,” he said hoarsely. “How do you like it?”
“I
don’t.”
“Me
neither,” he growled.
Stay
on track. Remember why you’re here.
“Jake,
I came by to see you because of the Buckhead crisis.”
“I
figured as much.”
She
could’ve sworn he looked disappointed for a fleeting moment. That
gave her the courage to go on. “To offer my shoulder—”
“To
cry on?” he sneered.
“No!
To lean on. Please don’t be ugly.”
“I
can’t help it. You broke us up.”
Incredulous,
she gaped at him. “Me! Must I keep reminding you? You
left me.”
He
closed the distance between them, so close she could feel his body
heat.
“You
let me leave,” he said gruffly.
“I
didn’t—”
“You
let
me leave,” he repeated, his face but inches away.
A word with Petie McCarty:
First,
let me thank Wild Women Authors for allowing me a return visit with
their readers today!
You
are most welcome, this is a terrific story. Was there any event in
your private life that inspired this story?
Years
ago, my young, happy, vibrant nephew was diagnosed at the age of
eight with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy (DMD), just like NAFC
heroine Rachel Kelly’s nephew was in the story.
See,
DMD can slip through who knows how many generations—it did
mine—before the family becomes aware the gene for DMD is there.
Females inherit two dystrophin genes, one carried on each of her X
chromosomes, and the dystrophin gene’s job is to protect the
muscles from degenerating. A flawed dystrophin can cause muscular
dystrophy. If a female inherits a flawed gene from her mother, she
will show no symptoms for DMD, as she still has a healthy dystrophin
gene on her other X chromosome.
When
my nephew was diagnosed, my aunts and female cousins were all tested.
Turned out my aunt and my paternal grandmother were both carriers.
That meant my own dad had a 50-50 chance of inheriting a flawed gene
from my grandmother and getting muscular dystrophy. In which case, I
would never have been born, as males with DMD rarely see the high
side of 20.
In
the last five years, broad population carrier screening tests have
been developed which will help locate DMD carriers before
the disease shows up in a family—like an early warning system. This
is the reason why I chose this back story for my book. I wanted women
to know about the possibility of DMD hiding within family genetics
and that there are tests available to determine one’s
probabilities, so I wrote my heroine in NAFC with the quandary. What
choices do you make if this knowledge becomes available?
A bit more about Petie
McCarty
Petie
spent a large part of her career working at Walt Disney World—"The
Most Magical Place on Earth"—where she enjoyed working in the
land of fairy tales by day and creating her own romantic fairy tales
by night, including her new series, The Cinderella
Romances. She eventually said good-bye to her "day" job to
write her stories full-time. These days Petie spends her time
writing sequels to her regency time-travel series, Lords in Time, and
her cozy-mystery-with-romantic-suspense series, the Mystery Angel
Romances.
Petie
shares her home on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee with her
horticulturist husband and an opinionated Nanday conure named Sassy
who made a cameo appearance in No
Angels for Christmas.
To
learn more about our feature author, go to:
Sounds like a very good series.
ReplyDeleteGood luck and God's blessings with it
PamT
Thanks bunches, Pam!
DeleteAll best,
Petie
What a totally unique storyline! You deserve every one of those stars, Petie.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Sandra!
DeleteHave a magical holiday!
Petie
Thank you, Kat, for allowing me to spend time with your readers today!
ReplyDeleteHave a magical holiday!
Petie