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8 Sandpiper Way (A Cedar Cove Novel), by Debbie Macomber

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Olivia Lockhart-Griffin 

Cedar Cove, Washington 

Dear Reader,  

I'm pretty shocked by something I've just heard. Emily Flemming is afraid that her husband, Dave, might be having an affair. She apparently found an earring in his pocket—and it wasn't hers. And she says he's been coming home late and acting secretive. Not only that, some jewelry was recently stolen from an old woman, and Dave (in his capacity as pastor) used to visit her a lot…. 

This is all so hard to believe! Dave's a good pastor and a good man. He and Emily appear to have the perfect life, with their children, Matthew and Mark, and their lovely home at 8 Sandpiper Way. But I guess things aren't always as they seem. Reader, I'd love to hear what you think, and so does Emily. 

I have some personal news, too—it's turning out to be a challenging year. But there are also some interesting updates about our friends in Cedar Cove. Like Sheriff Troy Davis, to mention one. Guess what? His long-ago love, Faith Beckwith, has just moved back here! 

Hope you'll join Emily and me for a cup of tea soon. 

Olivia

• Sales Rank: #221763 in Books
• Published on: 2014-02-25
• Released on: 2014-02-25
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 8.24" h x .97" w x 5.45" l, .70 pounds
• Binding: Paperback
• 368 pages

Review
"Macomber is known for her honest portrayals of ordinary women in small-town America, and this tale cements her position as an icon of the genre." –Publishers Weekly on 16 Lighthouse Road

"Romance readers everywhere cherish the books of Debbie Macomber." –Susan Elizabeth Philips

"Debbie Macomber's name on a book is a guarantee of delightful, warmhearted romance." –Jayne Ann Krentz

"Popular romance writer Macomber has a gift for evoking the emotions that are at the heart of the genre's popularity." – Publishers Weekly

"With first-class author Debbie Macomber it's quite simple–she gives readers an exceptional, unforgettable story every time and her books are always, always keepers!"

– ReaderToReader.com

"Debbie Macomber is one of the authors who led me to appreciate romantic fiction. She can take a well-worn plot device...craft her characters carefully, having them grow and develop as the story unfolds, and leave readers with a sense of the goodness of strong values." –The Romance Reader

"Debbie Macomber is one of the most reliable, versatile romance authors around." – Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

"Macomber is a skilled storyteller." –Publishers Weekly

About the Author

Debbie Macomber, with more than 100 million copies of her books sold worldwide, is one of today's most popular authors. The #1 New York Times bestselling author is best known for her ability to create compelling characters and bring their stories to life in her books. Debbie is a regular resident on numerous bestseller lists, including the New York Times (70 times and counting), USA TODAY (currently 67 times) and Publishers Weekly (47 times). Visit her at www.DebbieMacomber.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


They say the wife is always the last to know.

Except that Emily Flemming did know and she'd known for more than a week. Dave, her husband, was involved with someone else. Only Dave wasn't just Dave Flemming. He was Pastor Dave Flemming. The thought that her husband loved another woman was intolerable, unthinkable, unbearable. Dave's betrayal was bad enough, but disregarding his moral obligations to his congregation and his God-she could hardly believe it. This shocking secret was completely inconsistent with everything she knew about her husband.

Ever since the night of their anniversary dinner, Emily had carefully guarded what she'd learned. She'd been in the church office, waiting for Dave, and had reached for his suit jacket, which hung on the back of his door. When she draped it over her arm, a diamond earring had fallen out of the pocket. Later she'd discovered the second one in the other pocket. Emily had certainly never owned anything as extravagant as this pair of large, diamond-studded pendant earrings.

In the beginning Emily had assumed the earrings were an anniversary present; however, she quickly realized they couldn't be. For one thing, they weren't in a jeweler's box.

But even if they had been, it wasn't possible. Dave could never have afforded diamond earrings on their tight family budget.

Emily should have asked immediately…and hadn't. She'd been afraid of ruining their special evening with her suspicions. But almost at once, other details had begun to add up in her mind. She could no longer ignore the fact that Dave so often worked late, especially since the private hour they'd shared after dinner had gone by the wayside. It might've been her imagination but he seemed to take extra long with his grooming, too.

Her suspicions doubled and tripled. She held them close to her heart, examining them over and over, trying to make sense of her husband's behavior. Whenever she asked where he'd been, Dave's answers were vague. Another warning sign…

"Mommy, when's Daddy coming home?" Mark, the younger of her two sons, asked as he looked up from his plate. He was eight and his dark brown eyes were identical to his father's.

Emily had the same question. "Soon," she said as reassuringly as she could. Two or three times a week, Dave didn't get home until well after dinner. At first she'd made excuses for him to their boys. Now she didn't know what to tell them.

"Dad hardly ever eats with us," Matthew complained, sitting down next to his younger brother.

Dave's lateness had started gradually. He used to make a point of being there for the evening meal. As she stared into space, Emily couldn't help wondering if he was having dinner with some other woman…some other family. She chased away the thought with a determination that stiffened her spine.

For the sake of her children, Emily dragged out her standard excuse. "Your father's been busy at the church."

"Every night?"

Her sons echoed Emily's own dissatisfaction. "It seems so," she returned lightly, pretending all was well as she joined them at the dinner table. They automatically clasped hands and bowed their heads while Emily recited grace. Silently she added a prayer for herself, asking for courage to face whatever the future might hold for her marriage.

"Shouldn't we wait for him at least one night?" Mark said as he reluctantly picked up his fork.

"You two have homework, don't you?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"But Dad-"

"Your father will eat later."

"Will he get home before we go to bed?" Matthew, her sensitive son, asked.

"I don't know," she said, swallowing hard.

She made a pretense of eating. Her appetite had disappeared the minute she'd found those diamond earrings. That was the start-the wake-up call she'd ignored for months. Naturally, she'd told herself, there could be any number of explanations for those earrings. She'd intended to ask him about it the very next day…and hadn't.

Emily knew what held her back. She didn't want to hear the truth; she simply wasn't ready for it. She dreaded the consequences once she did finally confront him.

She'd questioned her husband, more than once, about his late nights. But Dave brushed aside her concern and offered ambiguous excuses, mentioning people she'd never met and meetings she didn't know about. He almost seemed to resent her asking, so after a while she'd stopped.

She supposed she had her answer. Since the discovery of the diamond earrings, she had a perfectly clear picture of what was happening-what had already happened. Sadly, pastors were as susceptible to temptation as anyone else. Like all sinners, they, too, could be lured into affairs. They, too, could make irreparable mistakes.

If Emily had hoped this was just a misunderstanding, that she'd allowed it to grow out of all proportion in her mind, those hopes had been destroyed. Earlier in the week, she'd run into Bob and Peggy Beldon at the grocery store. They owned the local bed-and-breakfast, Thyme and Tide. As the three of them stood in the middle of the aisle exchanging pleasantries, Bob casually said that he missed playing golf with Dave.

As long as the weather permitted, the two of them had played weekly for the past three years. In a matter of minutes, she'd ferreted out the information she'd been afraid to learn. Dave had given up golfing more than a year ago. A year! Yet every week last summer, he'd loaded up his golf clubs on Monday afternoons and driven off, supposedly to meet Bob. Obviously he'd been meeting someone else.

Emily sighed. She couldn't continue to let her mind wander down this well-traveled path of doubt and suspicion. Half the time she acted the role of the quiet, unassuming wife; the rest of the time it was all she could do to refrain from demanding an explanation. She wanted the truth no matter how painful it might be-and yet she didn't. What wife ever did?

So far she'd remained silent. She was astonished by how good she'd become at pretending everything was fine. None of her friends suspected. What bothered her almost as much as her suspicions was the fact that Dave didn't seem to have any idea that she'd caught on. She wondered if he'd broach the subject. Maybe if he knew she'd figured out what was going on… Perhaps that was what she'd been waiting for. She wanted him to ask her.

But Dave never asked. If she managed to put on a marvelous performance, then so did her husband. Last Sunday he'd actually spoken from the pulpit about the importance of marriage, of loving one's spouse.

Emily felt like the most unloved woman in the world. She could barely stop herself from breaking into heart-wrenching sobs right there in front of the entire congregation. Naturally everyone must have assumed she'd been overcome with emotion, since Dave's sermon, by implication, had honored her. She wanted to tell them that, beautiful though his words were, that was all they were. Words.

It was hard to believe this could be happening to them. Emily had always been so sure they had a solid marriage, and that Dave was her best friend. Apparently she was wrong.

The door leading to the garage opened and to her surprise he walked into the house.

"Dad!" Mark slid out of his chair, running toward his father as if he hadn't seen him in a year.

"Hey there, little man, how's it going?" Dave reached down and swung their son into his arms. Mark was too big to be picked up like a child, but he craved the attention from his father.

Dave kissed Emily on the cheek, then ruffled Matthew's hair before he sat down. "I'm glad I made it home in time for dinner tonight."

"Me, too," Mark said, his eyes glowing.

Despite everything, her own happiness sprang to life again, and Emily got up and brought a fourth place setting to the table.

When she passed him the enchilada casserole she'd made, he took a heaping serving, then grinned over at her. "You fixed one of my favorites," he said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She met his look, letting him know with her eyes how much she loved him. Maybe, regardless of the evidence, all her unhappy suspicions were wrong.

"Can you help me with my homework after dinner, Dad?" Mark asked.

Their younger son was the top student in his class, far ahead of the other second-graders. He didn't need any assistance. What he really wanted was time with his father.

"You promised to throw me the football, remember?" Matthew said. Never mind that it was late November and already dark outside, He, too, wanted time with Dave. The children weren't the only ones; Emily needed all the reassurance he had to offer. Hard as she tried to cast aside these doubts, they refused to die. She didn't want to lose her husband. She loved Dave no matter what and was determined to keep her marriage to-gether-or at least make every possible effort.

"Hold on, hold on." Dave laughingly raised both hands. "Give me a minute to catch my breath, would you?"

Both boys stared expectantly at their father. Emily couldn't bear to look at their eager faces. Seeing the love for him in their eyes made her feel like weeping.

"Let your dad eat his dinner," she said.

"After that, I'll help you both, but I'd like a few minutes alone with your mother first," Dave said, glancing at Emily.

A chill raced down her spine, and she was afraid to meet his eyes.

"Aw, Dad," Mark whined.

"It won't take long," he promised. "Eat your green beans."

"Okay."

Emily handed Dave the bowl of buttered beans with sliced almonds. He took a small portion. Green beans weren't his favorite vegetable, either, and this was her way of suggesting he set a good example.

Following dinner, the boys cleared the table, then went to their room for study hour. This had been Dave's idea. Whether they had homework or not, Matthew and Mark were to spend one hour every night reading, writing or reviewing their schoolwork. The television wasn't allowed to be on, nor were video games permitted.

As the boys trudged to their room, Emily made a pot of coffee, keeping her back to Dave as she worked. Asking to speak to her like that was unusual for him. If there was something on his mind, he generally discussed it with her after the boys had gone to bed.

Even before she could finish pouring their coffee, Dave asked her, "Are you happy?" His voice was urgent. Intense. The need to know seemed to burn inside him.

Dozens of possible questions had occurred to her, but this was one she hadn't expected.

"Happy?" she repeated, facing him. Still not meeting his gaze, she carried two steaming mugs of coffee to the table and set them down. "Am I happy?" She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her faded jeans as she contemplated her response.

"I didn't think it would take you this long to answer," Dave said. His dark eyes studied her and he seemed disappointed in her hesitation.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be happy?" she asked, turning the question back on him. "I live in a beautiful house and I'm able to stay home with the boys the way we both wanted. My husband is madly in love with me, right?" she added, remembering his sermon from the Sunday before-and hoping she didn't sound even slightly sarcastic. Without giving him the opportunity to answer, perhaps because she feared what he might say, she asked, "What about you, Dave? Are you happy?"

"Of course I am." His reply was immediate and impassioned.

"Then I am, too." Rather than join him at the table she started to load the dishwasher. "Sit down," he said. "Please." Reluctantly she did. "You haven't been sleeping well."

So he'd noticed. She fell asleep easily enough, but an hour or two later she'd be wide awake. Then for the rest of the night she'd toss and turn, sleeping fitfully if at all. The scenarios that played out in her mind wouldn't allow her to rest. Her husband might be in love with someone else. He might even be cheating on her.

Emily considered herself an emotionally strong woman, one who remained calm in a crisis. A woman others counted on for guidance and support. Yet when it came to confronting her husband with her suspicions, she was a coward.

"If there's something bothering you, maybe I can help," he said. She recognized his tone, that caring, concerned voice he so often used with others. Only she wasn't just one of his parishioners, she was his wife!

"What could possibly be bothering me?" she asked airily. She didn't expect him to answer.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking. Are the ladies from the missionary society making too many demands?"

"No." The cookbook committee had wanted her to organize the entire project and she'd told them she simply didn't have the time, which was true. Apparently there'd been more than a few ruffled feathers. The church family seemed to think that because Emily didn't work outside the home, she should be at their beck and call, just like Dave. Emily had no intention of becoming an unpaid employee of the church and had made that clear when they accepted the assignment in Cedar Cove. Her role was to support Dave and mother their young sons.

"You'd tell me if you were upset, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," she said, hoping the act of sipping coffee would hide her lie.

Mark stuck his head inside the kitchen. "Are you finished talking to Mom yet?" he asked his father. "I need help with my math."

Dave looked at her.

"I'm fine," she said emphatically.

He seemed to doubt her. She wasn't expert at lying and hated the fact that she was afraid to voice her concerns. Dave took a sip of his coffee and stood. "All right, Mark, show me what's giving you trouble."

Emily watched her husband and son walk out of the kitchen and swallowed painfully. She'd been waiting for him to ask her a question like that. Are you happy? It was the perfect opportunity to address her suspicions-but she'd been too frightened to say anything.

The problem, she told herself, was that she wasn't prepared. For her own protection, she needed facts and details before she confronted him. He needed to realize she wasn't as naive as he obviously thought.

By nine that evening both boys were in bed and asleep. When Dave was home, getting her sons ready for the night was invariably a smooth, easy process. But anytime she was alone with them-which was most nights lately-they came up with a multitude of excuses to delay going to bed.

Most helpful customer reviews

23 of 25 people found the following review helpful.
Always a Pleasure to Return to Cedar Cove
By Antoinette Klein
Cedar Cove has become a favorite city for thousands of readers like me who enjoy gossipy writing, small towns filled with good-spirited characters, and a little romance and drama to keep things interesting.

Debbie Macomber does not disappoint with this eighth installment set in the soap-opera like town. Emily and Dave Flemming take center stage in this novel as the local pastor keeps important information from his wife. With his much-later-than usual hours and the discovery of some diamond earrings in his jacket, Emily believes Dave is either an adulterer or a thief. Old friends Roy McAfee, the local private investigator, and Sheriff Troy Davis will get involved before this is all put to rest.

In the meantime, Sheriff Davis has some important personal challenges to face as he anguishes over lost love Faith Beckwith and grapples with his daughter Megan's health issues. Old friends like Olivia and Jack Griffin, Grace Harding, Teri Polgar, Christie Levitt, and Rachel Pendergast reappear and let the reader share what is happening in their lives. In addition, new characters like Tanni Bliss and her mom, fabric artist Shirley Bliss, appear and begin what will undoubtedly be the fodder of future sagas.

My only complaints with this installment are: first, my personal favorite, Mary Ellen Bowman, only got a brief mention; second, the mystery surrounding Pastor Flemming was one I figured out very early in the book (maybe I trust him more than his wife does) ; and lastly, I want another Cedar Cove book immediately. They are addictive! Fortunately, in just another month we will have a Cedar Cove Christmas, but must wait a full year to find out more about what will transpire at 92 Pacific Boulevard, the home of Troy Davis.

9 of 9 people found the following review helpful.
Another good entry in a good series
By drebbles
It's almost Christmas in Cedar Cove and Pastor Dave Flemming has plenty on his mind - the Christmas pageant (with live animals!), sermons to write, sick parishioners to visit and more. He's a busy man, but his wife Emily suspects something else is going on and begins to think her beloved husband is up to no good. Other residents of Cedar Cove have their own issues to deal with. Sheriff Troy Davis is pining after long lost love Faith Beckwith; Christie Levitt is fighting her attraction to limo driver James Wilbur; and Olivia Lockhart Griffin is fighting breast cancer. As each of them and other residents of Cedar Cove deal with their problems, they realize how much family, friends, and neighbors mean to them.

"8 Sandpiper Way" is the eighth book in Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove series - a series that is a lot of fun to read. While the book definitely has a soap opera feel - complete with a large cast of characters - Dave and Emily's problems are very real and very timely in today's world. At times I wanted to yell at Dave for not confiding in Emily, but his keeping his problems to himself is also very real. Besides David and Emily's story line, there are several other story lines going on and the one that I like the most, more so in fact than Emily and Dave's, was the interaction between Christie and James (and Macomber drops a bombshell in this plot line). Chess player Bobby Polgar never seems quite real to me as a character but James his driver does.

If there is a fault in this entertaining series, it is that Macomber has too many characters in it. Because of this, some of the characters that featured prominently in past books in the series - for example Maryellen and Jon Bowman, the Cox family, and Justin and Seth Gunderson are either barely in the book or just mentioned in passing. This can be disappointing, especially since Macomber introduces some new characters - Shirley Bliss, her daughter Tanni, and Shaw Wilson. While I realize Macomber wants to keep the series fresh and Tanni and Shaw's story does end on a cliffhanger that helps set up the next book in the series, neither of them do much for me as characters.

"8 Sandpiper Way" is a nice cozy book to read. It's not terribly deep, but Macomber seems to have had a lot of fun writing it (I suspect her tongue was firmly in cheek more than once) and it is a lot of fun to read, especially during these cool autumn nights.

5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Too little story.....
By Sherry Hack
I was anxiously waiting for the next book in the series, but I was disappointed. There was too much reviewing of the past books and too little story. There is still another coming and if it is the same, I am not going any further.

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The bodies of seven women have been discovered in Skull Valley, Arizona. Jonah Young, a private security operative from Department 6, has been hired by the Yavapai County sheriff to assist in solving these murders. But Jonah's not prepared for the complications that arise when he's forced to work with a woman from his past, private investigator Francesca Moretti.

Jonah betrayed Francesca ten years ago. She hasn't forgiven him and she's pretty sure she never will. But the woman she was hired to find has been murdered in exactly the same way as the seven in Skull Valley, so, Francesca has to work with Jonah. They quickly zero in on the most likely suspect—but questions remain. Questions they have to answer. Because if they bet on the wrong man, it might be the last thing they ever do….

• Sales Rank: #1117451 in Books
• Brand: Novak, Brenda
• Published on: 2010-09-28
• Released on: 2010-09-28
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x 1.15" w x 4.21" l, .47 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 448 pages

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Brenda Novak has penned over 45 novels. A two-time Rita nominee, she's won The National Reader's Choice, The Bookseller's Best, The Bookbuyer's Best and many other awards. She runs an annual online auction for diabetes research every May at www.brendanovak.com. To date, she’s raised over $2 million. Brenda considers herself lucky to be a mother of five and married to the love of her life.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Francesca Moretti thought she couldn't be seeing what she was seeing. So much junk cluttered the salvage yard that it could be any number of things, right? She wasn't that close. And it was wrapped in a painter's tarp and partially hidden behind some wood pallets, sawhorses and stacks of roofing material. But the longer she examined the size and dimensions of that shape, the more convinced she became. It was a human body.

Filled with revulsion, she shrank back into the shade of the closest outbuilding. The blazing July sun, bouncing off the sea of car carcasses, bent bicycle frames, even obsolete farm equipment, made her feel as if she was trapped in an oven instead of running down a lead on the outskirts of Prescott, Arizona. But it was panic and not heat that threatened to suffocate her.

Could this really be happening? Again? In her last big case, she'd located what was left of the missing wife and mother she'd been hired to find. The discovery had made national headlines; Janice Grey's murder probably would've gone unsolved without Francesca. She'd provided the missing piece of the puzzle that confirmed a murder had taken place, which allowed investigators to go ahead and prosecute their prime suspect. But that type of thing didn't happen very often and certainly not to the same private investigator. Francesca had pretty much decided it would never happen again. Not to her, anyway. And then…this.

Trying to ignore the Doberman who'd started barking like crazy the moment she set foot in the yard— fortunately, the dog was chained to the back of the house—she stared at what appeared to be a shock of brown hair spilling out from under that paint-speckled tarp. She wanted to identify the body, make sure it was her client's sister, as she suspected.

But that could wait. She thought she smelled decomposition. And, judging by the stiffness of the corpse, apparent from the odd angles underneath the tarp, the body was in full rigor. There was no reason to look any more closely; the memory would only keep her up at night. Better to let the county homicide investigator handle the situation from here on.

Yes, get help. That was what she needed to do. Immediately. She didn't want to ruin any forensic evidence linking April Bonner to the man who'd killed her.

Hands shaking, she fumbled in the purse slung across her body, searching for her iPhone. She was breathing shallowly. Try as she might she couldn't override her body's automatic response.

Calm down. You're okay. Everything will be fine. You wanted to add missing persons to your list of services, remember?

She'd wanted to solve some difficult cases.

But that was just it. Locating people who'd gone missing wasn't supposed to be this easy. And the goal was to find them alive.

Finally, her fingers encountered the phone. She was scrolling through her address book for Investigator Finch's phone number when she heard footsteps—the purposeful stride of a man wearing boots from the sound of it—and brought her head up fast. She wasn't alone? There'd been no answer when she knocked at the old wood-frame house facing the road, and she hadn't heard a vehicle. But that didn't mean anything. This was a big property, ten acres.

So weak she doubted she could run even if she had to, she peered around the corner of the building. She couldn't see whoever was approaching.

Sweat, rolling from her hairline, dripped into her eyes. She blinked to clear her vision and prayed for a burst of adrenaline to stop her knees from turning to jelly. What was wrong with her? In her line of work, the threat of physical injury—or death—came with the territory. She'd known that from the beginning. But she'd always imagined herself as so much tougher, so much calmer in the face of danger. She hadn't reacted like this when she was a cop, or when she'd found Janice's remains scattered in that gully, had she?

No. But she'd worked property crimes when she was with Phoenix P.D. and, after that, the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office. And the day she found Janice, she'd been with a group of search-and-rescue guys she'd hired to scour land the police had decided was too far out. They'd stumbled across bones, which distanced her from the violence that had taken Janice's life.

This was different. Francesca had just discovered a recent kill. She was alone in a relatively remote location. And no one else had any idea where she was. She hadn't even notified Heather, her assistant, other than to say she'd be out most of the day running down leads. She'd driven from her home in Chandler two hours to the south and didn't know anyone in the area.

"Who's there? And what do you want?"

It was a man, all right, and he didn't sound pleased to have a visitor. His harsh voice set the dog barking at a far more feverish pitch.

Unwilling to answer, and afraid to poke her head around the shed again for fear he'd see her, she pressed her back against the rough wood of the building. The bartender at the Pour House had told her he'd spotted a woman resembling April getting into a truck driven by the guy who owned this salvage yard: Butch Vaughn. She'd come out here hoping to speak to Vaughn. But after finding the figure beneath the tarp, she knew it wasn't the time or the place to confront a possible killer. Especially a killer with a Doberman that could easily be released. The police could deal with it.

"I know you're there," he said. "Demon's making damn sure of it."

Demon had to be the dog. What an appropriate name…

"What are you doing trespassing on my property?" His footsteps had grown less decisive. He wasn't quite sure where she was. "Don't you have any manners?"

Her actions said more about her nerve than her manners. Pushing, even when others didn't want to be pushed, and looking, even when they didn't want certain things to be seen, was part of her job. Although she hadn't always been so assertive, her desire to succeed had forced her to overcome her natural reluctance to pry. Timid private investigators weren't going to help anyone. If the owner of this property hadn't been seen with April, who'd been missing for three days, Francesca would never have considered intruding on his privacy.

Glancing behind her, she wondered if she should make a break for her car. Could she get around the house and all the way to the road before he caught her?

If her heart wasn't already racing, she thought she might have a chance. Five years ago, she'd taken up running as a way to relieve stress and stay in shape. She prided herself on her athletic ability. But a quarter mile had never seemed as far as it did at this moment. And she had no illusion that she could outsprint a man who was in top physical condition. She'd seen this guy's profile on the dating Web site where April had first come across him. If Harry Statham was really Butch Vaughn, as she now believed, and the muscular picture he'd posted was anywhere close to accurate, he was definitely fit….

"What's the matter?" he called out. "Cat got your tongue?"

Her other option was pepper spray. Just after she'd been accepted into the police academy, her father had accidentally been shot by his own partner during a drug bust and been confined to a wheelchair ever since. Seeing him struggle with the loss of his mobility day after day, year after year, left an impression she wasn't likely to forget. As soon as she quit the force to open her own investigative agency, she'd stopped carrying a gun. She no longer even owned one. But she needed some protection.

"I want to know why you're snooping around," he called out.

Was this Butch? It had to be. He'd said "my property." Did he realize what she'd found? He had to at least suspect, didn't he?

Doubting she'd be able to outrun him, she thrust a hand into her purse. He was coming up on the other side of the building; he must have guessed where she was hiding. The crunch of his soles striking the rocky desert soil ratcheted up her tension as if he had an external crank that stretched every nerve taut and tightened every muscle.

Where was her pepper spray? Had she lost it? She'd never really had to use it. She kept it with her as a precaution…

Shit! It wasn't there.

She still had her phone in her hand. She dialed 911 but dared not speak into the receiver. He'd be on her before she could say two words. Whatever was going to happen would be over by the time the dispatcher could send a squad car. She had to run.

As she pivoted, her hand finally touched the cool metal of the canister. It'd been lost in the jumble of her belongings.

Thank God. Preparing for the confrontation to come, she withdrew her pepper spray and held it ready. But he didn't walk around the corner as she expected.

She couldn't hear his steps anymore. Was it possible that he didn't know where she was, after all?

Swallowing hard, she held her breath and listened carefully. Where was he? What was he doing?

She didn't have to wonder for long. Thanks to the dirty window at her elbow, she caught a brief glimpse of movement inside the building and realized it was actually an office and he was coming through it. There was an exit right next to her!

Whipping around, she jumped out of range of the door he flung open and sprayed him. At least, she tried to spray him. Nothing came out. Why, she had no idea. Her actions made him flinch and throw up his arms to protect his face and that was it. But seeing him up close confirmed her suspicions—Harry Statham was indeed Butch Vaughn. The man pictured on that dating profile looked identical to the owner of this salvage yard—the last person, as far as she could determine, who'd seen April alive.

Throwing the can, she heard it hit him but didn't pause to see where. She was too intent on running. But no matter how hard her arms and legs pumped, she could hear him gaining on her.

The dog barked and yelped and growled as it pulled at its chain. She tried to ignore it. As dangerous as that animal sounded, it couldn't hurt her. For now…

A second later, the dog became her last concern as Butch grabbed her purse, which was flapping behind her, and used it to jerk her to a stop. Yanking back, she fell when the strap broke. Then she dropped her phone, which bounced out of reach, and because of the sudden release of tension, he fell, too.

"Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?" Gripping her by the ankle, he dragged her toward him.

The hot dirt burned her bare arms and legs. A sleeveless blouse and skirt were probably the worst things she could've worn. He was dressed in blue jeans and a muscle shirt, which protected him, to some degree.

"Answer me!" he grated as they rolled around—she wrestling for her freedom, he trying to subdue her—but she was breathing too hard to respond. All she could think about was escape. She had to keep fighting regardless of the scrapes, the bruises and the burning ground.

It wasn't long before he managed to pin her down. He had her left wrist, but before he could grab her right, she sank her nails into his cheek, gouging him deeply. She knew she'd gotten him good when he cursed and drew back.

His sudden recoil made it possible for her to scramble out from under him. She got hold of her purse but he obviously realized she was about to escape and caught it, too. She had to let go. It fell away, spilling, as she found her feet and darted around the house.

Although her BMW waited on the road ahead of her, her car keys were either in her purse or on the ground with her cell. She couldn't drive anywhere, but she ran for her car, anyway.

Her sandals slapped her heels, and the smooth hard soles made her skid here and there, so it was a miracle she reached the front yard. Once she did, she hoped to flag down a car, but the road was empty. And Butch didn't have any neighbors. Her one advantage was the fact that she'd done more damage with her nails than she'd expected. When she glanced over her shoulder, she could see Butch coming after her, but he wasn't moving too fast. He staggered, wiping at the blood that dripped from his left eye and cheek.

She'd hurt him, which scared her even more. Fury rolled off him in waves.

Her breath rattled in her throat as she fought to make her shaky limbs follow her brain's commands. If he caught her, she was dead. She could see a steely resolve set in as he shook off the pain and started to jog.

Thank heaven she'd left her car unlocked. It was a bad habit but she could only be grateful in this particular moment. Wrenching open the passenger door, which was closest, she got in and slammed it just as he stretched out his hand to stop her. He had to yank it away to avoid having his fingers crushed. Then he went for the door handle.

Lock! Lock! Lock! Frantically, Francesca swiped at the console and the upholstery, searching for the button that would secure the doors. In her panic, she couldn't remember where the damn thing was—but she managed to hit it before he could open the door. She'd never heard a sound more comforting than the thunk of the locks snapping into place or the ineffective catch of the lever as he pulled it to no avail.

Closing her eyes, she gulped for air and would've been relieved, except that he was more enraged than ever. Glaring down at her, he banged on the window. "Hey!"

Frozen with terror, she stared up at him. If he got in, it would be over in minutes. She didn't even have her iPhone.

Had emergency services received any indication that she'd tried to call? Were they sending help? Or had they assumed her call had been a misdial or a crank?

"What the hell's wrong with you, lady?" he yelled. "I just want to talk. I want to know why you're here."

Most helpful customer reviews

9 of 11 people found the following review helpful.
5 stars?---got to be kidding
By ptrcfgn
After reading the previous reviews I wondered if we all read the same book. I have read a previous series by Novak and found it enjoyable but having forked over $7.99 for this book I felt cheated but determined to finish it--it was tough! The heroine, Francesca supposedly had been a police officer and is now a successful PI. In the first 10 pages she mistakes a manequinn for a dead body (smell and all)and then tries to escape by using pepper spray--yes, pepper spray!!!--as her main weapon of defense. This from a former police officer. She continues to be so unprofessional in her approach to her job through out the whole book that it made it pretty impossible to take her seriously.

As far as the romance was concerned, Jonah the hero had cheated on Francesca with her best friend 10 years before. Have to say that this was one of the main reasons I was attracted to this book; I love a hero that screws up and then has to do some major begging to get the heroine back. So yes, he apologizes; then apologizes again, and again, and again. Frankly, it got pretty tiresome cause she couldn't make up her mind till the last pages of the book whether or not to forgive him even though she was OK going to bed with him. By that point I just wanted him to give up and move on with his life. All in all, I don't suggest you pay for this, borrow it from a friend who had the misfortune to actually put out money for it.

7 of 9 people found the following review helpful.
Seriously? 5 Stars?
By D. J. Taggart
I've read all the books in this Trilogy. The interpersonal skills of the lead character, Francesca, was beyond annoying. I wanted to just yell Grow up already! The romance was a joke, as she could barely tolerate the lead guy due to past history, yet wow, they fall back in love. The whodunit in this book was actually not bad, but save yourself $7.99. Not worth the ride!

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
reunited after he cheated on her 10 years ago**SPOILERS**
By RomReader
Private investigator heroine stumbles across what she thought was the dead body of the woman she's searching for & the possible murderer. The police team believes its tied to the serial killing of 7 women found in a nearby gravesite and they hire private investigator Hero to be part of their investigative efforts. Hero & heroine have not seen each other for 10 years since he betrayed her with her best friend. They make an effort to work together but heroine finds it hard to let go of their past especially as it's evident that she & Hero still have strong feelings for each other. Hero's apologies don't make a difference until he informs of things in his past that influenced his betrayal of their love. Her best friend's presence complicates their precarious r/s. Will the end of the murder investigation also mean the end of their r/s?

There's a lot of angst in this Novak book. The romance b/w Hero & heroine is about how they manage the present given his cheating on her 10 years before. The complicated & triangulated r/s between Hero, heroine, & her best friend makes the suspense part of this book almost secondary. I say almost b/c the mystery of who the serial killer is & the trail of dead bodies found were definitely worth following. It wasn't predictable & the list of suspects were interesting. But the main pull of this book for me was the troubled second-chance romance between Hero & heroine.

I was torn between wanting heroine to reunite with Hero and wanting her to let him go of him forever. There were also times when I wanted heroine to work hard on sustaining her r/s with her best friend and wanting her to get raging mad at her best friend & kick her out of her life. Here's why:

------------------------------------------------SPOILERS: Don't read below if you don't want to know the book's details ----------------------------------------------------

1. Hero was very regretful about he sabotaging his r/s with heroine by having a 1-night stand with her interested best friend. BUT heroine had to basically force him to tell her why he did what he did. He would've walked away from her again without telling her the full truth of how his 1st marriage influenced his self-destructive behaviors.
2. Hero was drunk when he had sex with her best friend. BUT he wasn't so out of it that he didn't know who he was having sex with. Basically, he finally took her best friend up on her offer as a way of destroying his r/s with heroine.
3. Hero had deep issues & insecurities about his manhood & being worthy of love b/c of his ex-wife divorcing him for her long-time female lover. He got scared of being hurt again so he began closing off on heroine after he professed his love for her. BUT there were so many other less hurtful ways of telling heroine he was afraid of being hurt again...like actually talking to her about it. Instead he cheats on her with her best friend to mean "I can't commit to you right now". Uh huh.
4. Heroine did not let Hero off easily even with his talk of letting the past stay in the past. She forgave him & told him so but her remainder pain & confusion over what happened made her confront him over it. She also didn't jump into bed easily with him, although she did propose a temporary affair until the investigation was over.
5. Hero showed he had more self-discipline 10 years later & done with self-sabotaging by turning down heroine's sexual offers. He also showed that he valued her & wanted to protect her from further hurt.
6. Heroine forgave her best friend quickly b/c she didn't want to lose anymore important people in her life & her best friend seemed sincerely sorry for hurting her. She chose to be blind to her best friend's motives for having sex with her boyfriend, drunk or not. She was so afraid of being alone that she opted to keep her best friend who badly betrayed her & pretended things were ok with them again.
7. Heroine did kick her best friend out once she knew that her best friend intended to have sex with Hero 10 years ago & would leave her husband & kids if Hero returned her affections. BUT the end of the book hinted at how her best friend's temporarily being out of their lives gave her & Hero time to heal their r/s. It made it seem like her best friend had so much power over their r/s and how benevolent she was to give them time to be together without her complication. I think Hero & heroine will have an HEA but it would take a lot of insight, wisdom, honesty, & really good limit-setting with heroine's best friend to do so.

Recommended.

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Killer Heat (Department 6 Novel), by Brenda Novak PDF
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Book by Macomber, Debbie

• Sales Rank: #1017688 in Books
• Brand: Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2005-07-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 8.00" h x 1.08" w x 5.13" l,
• Binding: Paperback
• 672 pages

Features

• Used Book in Good Condition

About the Author
Debbie Macomber, the author of  Hannah's List, Summer on Blossom Street, Twenty Wishes and the Cedar Cove series, is one of today's leading voices in women's fiction. A regular on every major bestseller list with more than 140 million copies of her books in print, the award-winning author celebrated her third publishing "triple crown" in September 2009 when the latest in her Cedar Cove series, 92 Pacific Boulevard, scored #1 on the New York Times, USAToday and Publishers Weekly bestseller lists. That same month Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Cookbook debuted on the New York Times list at #8, and her hometown of Port Orchard, Washington, on which her Cedar Cove series is based, welcomed readers from 42 states and seven foreign countries to the first-ever, five-day "Cedar Cove Days" festival. Debbie's popularity is worldwide with her books translated into twenty-three languages. Debbie and her husband, Wayne, are the proud parents of four children and grandparents of eight grandchildren. They live in Washington State and winter in Florida.

Most helpful customer reviews

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Five Stars
By Nene
Great author

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Five Stars
By bonita cardwell
good book

8 of 9 people found the following review helpful.
good book
By KW
I first saw Navy Brides at the store and since I am a Navy bride i thought i would read it. I usually dont read but that book caught my eye. I read it in about 3 days. I loved it so much i had to order Navy Grooms. Debbie is an awesome author and really captures the feelings of the Navy and the seperation and has a great love story to go along with each story. I higly recommend this book and Debbies other Navy brides book to anyone who loves a true romance novel and also can understand a little about the Navy

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!! Ebook Free Drive Time (MIRA novel) (Charlotte McNally Mysteries), by Hank Phillippi Ryan

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Investigative reporter Charlotte McNally is an expert at keeping things confidential, but suddenly everyone has a secret—and it turns out it is possible to know too much.

Her latest scoop—an exposé of a dangerous car scam, complete with stakeouts, high-speed chases and hidden-camera footage—is ratings gold. But soon that leads her to a brand-new and diabolical scheme. Charlie's personal and professional lives are on a collision course, too. Her fiancé is privy to information about threats at an elite private school that have turned deadly.

Charlie has never counted on happy endings. But now, just as she's finally starting to believe in second chances, she realizes revenge, extortion and murder may leave her alone again—or even dead….

• Sales Rank: #361767 in Books
• Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2010-01-19
• Released on: 2010-01-19
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .77" w x 4.21" l, .34 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 352 pages

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• Great product!

Review
*Starred*  Ryan in same league as Lisa Scottoline...catapults the reader into fast lane and doesn't relent til the story careens to a stop. New readers will speed to get earlier books, and diehard fans hope for another installment.

--Library Journal

Now an ANTHONY NOMINEE! 
Best Paperback Original of 2010

Now an  AGATHA NOMINEE!
Best Mystery Novel of  2010

Now a DAPHNE NOMINEE!
Best Mainstream Novel of 2010

 

"Hank P Ryan knows the television business entirely; she understands plotting; and she writes beautifully.  No wonder I loved DRIVE TIME. Anyone would."

----Robert Parker, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Spenser for Hire mysteries


 "Superb series...Ryan's ability to portray these universal dilemmas is her true genius, and one that makes this series an enduring joy to read."
----Mystery Scene Magazine

"I love this series!" --Suzanne Brockmann

About the Author
 

Agatha, Anthony and Macavity award-winning investigative reporter Hank Phillippi Ryan is on the air at Boston's NBC affiliate. Her work has resulted in new laws, people sent to prison, homes removed from foreclosure, and millions of dollars in restitution. Along with her 26 EMMYs, Hank's won dozens of other journalism honors. She's been a radio reporter, a legislative aide in the United States Senate and an editorial assistant at Rolling Stone Magazine working with Hunter S. Thompson.

 

Her first mystery, the best-selling PRIME TIME, won the Agatha for Best First Novel. It was also was a double RITA nominee for Best First Book and Best Romantic Suspense Novel, and a Reviewers' Choice Award Winner. FACE TIME and AIR TIME are IMBA bestsellers, and AIR TIME was nominated for the AGATHA and ANTHONY Award. (Of AIR TIME, Sue Grafton says: "This is first-class entertainment.")  DRIVE TIME, February 2010 from MIRA Books, just earned a starred review from Library Journal saying it "puts Ryan in a league with Lisa Scottoline."

 

Hank's short story "On The House" won the AGATHA, ANTHONY and MACAVITY for Best Short Story of 2009..

 

Hank is on the board of New England Sisters in Crime and the national board of Mystery Writers of America.

Her website is HankPhillippiRyan.com

 

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


I can't wait to tell our secret. And I'll get to do it if we're not all killed first.

We're ten minutes away from Channel 3 when suddenly the Boston skyline disappears. Murky slush splatters across our windshield, kicked up from the tires of the rattletrap big rig that just swerved in front of us on the snow-slick highway. Eighteen wheels of obstacle, stubbornly obeying the Massachusetts Turnpike speed limit.

I brace myself once again. During this afternoon's teeth-clenching, bone-rattling, knuckle-whitening drive, I've learned how J.T. feels about speed limits.

"Fifty-five is for cowards!" he mutters. My new photographer powers our unmarked car into the passing lane, sloshing what's left of my coffee and almost throwing me across the backseat. Franklin, seemingly oblivious to our icy peril, is in the front seat clicking on his newest phone gizmo. As usual these days, my producer's deep into texting.

"Thanks, I'm fine back here," I call out, blotting the milky spill from my just dry-cleaned black coat. I don't even attempt to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. J.T. Shaw may be a hotshot when it comes to news video, but he apparently learned his driving skills chasing headlines in the network's Middle East Bureau. Now, even though he's back stateside shooting my investigative stories, he still thinks he's driving in Beirut. Where they don't have ice. Or speed limits.

Eight minutes away from Channel 3. Eight minutes away from the rest of my life. I hope I make it.

I look at the still-unfamiliar emerald-cut diamond on my third finger, left hand. Even in the fading winter light, it glistens, catching the January sunset, fire in the center. I'm strapped into the backseat of a deathtrap news car, but memories still spark the beginnings of a smile. Josh handing me the heart-stoppingly iconic robin's-egg-blue box. The creak of the tiny hinges as I opened it. The twinkle, the love, the passion in his hazel eyes as Josh slipped the glittering surprise onto my finger. Charlotte McNally, soon-to-be married lady. The family of investigative reporter Charlotte Ann McNally, age forty-seven, of Boston, announces her engagement to BexterAcademy professor Joshua Ives Gelston, fifty-two, ofBrookline…

"Charlotte! Get the license number!"

Snapped out of my bliss by the squeal of brakes, I look up to see Franklin twisted over the front seat, pointing out the back window. And then I hear a skid. Metal on metal. A horn blaring. Then another one. Then silence.

"It looks like a—blue? Black? What kind of car?" Franklin's squinting through his newest pair of eyeglasses, these rimless, almost invisible. He's jabbing a finger toward the highway behind us. We're going at least seventy now, speeding away from whatever he's looking at. "Over there, across the Pike. Right lane."

I follow his finger, unsnapping my seat belt and yanking my coat so I can face backward on the seat, knees tucked under me. My turn to squint. "The guy in the—? I think it's blue. Some sort of sports car? Going too fast— he's crazy. All I can see is taillights. What happened?"

Then I see what's on the side of the road. The puzzle pieces snap together. And the big picture means J.T.'s Indiana Jones driving ability may come in handy. Problem is, we're going in the wrong direction.

"J.T.! Check it out in your rearview." Using one finger, I poke him in the shoulder. "Behind us. Other side of the Pike. Looks like a hit-and-run. A car ran into the guardrail. Any way to get us there? Like, right now?"

I grab the leather strap above my seat, preparing for the inevitable g-force. Traffic accident? Definitely. News story? Maybe. But I'm a reporter and it's my responsibility to find out.

Keeping my eyes on the accident scene, I use my free hand to grope through my bottomless black leather tote bag for my phone. I know it's in there somewhere, but I can't take my eyes off the crash to look for it. Why are we still speeding away?

"J.T.? Listen, we've got to turn around somehow. Come on, just do it! Franko, you call 911, okay? My phone is—"

"Hang on!"

With a blare of the horn, J.T. swerves us across two lanes, skidding briefly in the slush and splattering ice pellets across our windows. I'm thrown across the seat again, grabbing to get my seat belt back on before I'm the next casualty. So much for getting to the station on time. And this was my idea.

J.T. checks his rearview, his expression hidden behind his oversize sunglasses, then jounces us across an emergency lane in a who-cares-it's-illegal U-turn. With a two-handed twist of the steering wheel, he bangs the gas to speed us in the opposite direction.

"We're approaching mile marker 121," Franklin is saying into his phone. He's braced for the ride, one hand clamped on the dashboard, and his voice is terse. "Mass Pike. Westbound. Car in the ditch."

We're almost there. Off the road, skewed and tilted at an angle that telegraphs disaster, there's a set of taillights that's not moving. The trunk of the blocky sedan is open. I can't see the front of the car. And I can't see anyone getting out.

"Tell them the guy who caused it left the scene," I instruct. My fingers touch my own phone. "Tell them— blue or black. Sports car. Headed west. Fast. And no movement at the crash site. And no fire. Yet. I'll call the assignment desk. Let them know we're on the scene." And we'll be late getting back, I don't say.

Josh should be used to it by this time. And he— generally—understands a reporter can't control breaking news. Thing is, being late today has some extra baggage. In two hours we're supposed to be breaking our own news: telling Penny she's getting a new stepmother. Me.

The nine-year-old was at Walt Disney World with her mother and stepfather when Josh and I got engaged. This week, still on school vacation, Penny's back with Josh. Now it seems like our news, Reality World, will have to stay secret a bit longer. My mother knows, of course. And Franklin. He and I have no secrets. Working as a team, sharing an office, there's no way.

Franklin and I usually handle the blockbuster stories, long-term investigations, Emmy caliber. Two months ago, we pulled off a showstopper, revealing international counterfeiting and FBI corruption. But after twenty-plus years in the biz, I know local news demands local news. And a hit-and-run tragedy could lead the show. I punch 33 on my cell phone's speed dial.

Clamping the phone to my ear with my shoulder, I rip off my black suede heels and yank on the flat snow boots I always carry this time of year in a red nylon Channel 3 pouch. Yes, I'm a pack mule. But I can't be worrying about slush on suede. Or cold feet.

Notebook. Pencil. And finally, the assignment desk picks up.

"Channel 3 News…"

"Hold some time on the six," I interrupt. "It's Charlie McNally. Got a pen? Tell the producer. Spot news on the Mass Pike. Hit-and-run. Car in a ditch. Casualties unknown. Franklin Parrish is with me. J.T.'s shooting. More to come. Got it?" I flip the phone closed in the middle of "Okay" and open the car door.

We're there.

A blast of January hits me, and I scramble to keep my balance in the frozen slush of the rutted roadside. A quick check of my trademark red lipstick in the car's side mirror also reminds me my hair's brownish roots are invading their painstakingly blonded camouflage. Flipping open my spiral notebook and edging across the breakdown lane, I look over my shoulder to make sure J.T. has his camera out and rolling.

"Right behind you, Charlie," J.T. says. He slams the trunk closed with one hand, and aims the camera at a pile of still-white snow, hitting the white-balance button to make sure our video is set to the right color. His leather gloves have the fingers cut off, allowing him to make the tiniest adjustments in video and sound.

"You got your external audio potted up?" Franklin asks.

I can't believe the boys are bickering again. J.T, battered leather jacket and broken-in jeans, foreign-correspondent cool and with a network résumé, is my age, but he's still the new guy at Channel 3. Franklin, pressed and preppy in Burberry camel hair, is ten years J.T.'s junior, but still holds station seniority. Picking my way toward the car, I turn to watch, half amused, half annoyed, as they continue their battle for turf. Can't we all just get along? Men.

J.T, aviator sunglasses now perched in his sandy hair, throws Franko an are-you-kidding look, but gives the camera's built-in microphone a tap just the same. He checks to make sure the needle on the audio meter is moving. "Rolling with sound, Charlie," he announces.

Franklin waves him off. "Just doing my job, pal."

"Me too, brotha," J.T. says.

Franklin hates when a white person calls him "brother." And J.T. knows it.

"Guys?" I interrupt the escalation of World War III. "The car? Someone's inside?"

We all head in the direction of the still-silent accident scene. All I can hear are our footsteps and the hissing splatter of cars streaking by on the crowded highway. Then I see the whole picture. The mangled car, its front end tangled in a now-twisted metal guardrail, is perched precariously over a shallow embankment. The hood of the dark red sedan is tented, crumpled, a discarded tin can. Tires in shreds. Something hot is hissing onto the snow beneath the chassis. I know the longer nothing moves, the more likely the news inside is bad. "Come on," I say softly. "Get out of the car."

And then, a quiet sound. Like a—cry. A baby. Crying.

"Guys?" I stop. Listening. But all is silent again. "Did you hear that?"

And then, the car's front door creaks open. Driver's side. Slowly. The car shifts, briefly, then settles back. No one gets out.

I flash a look at J.T.

J.T. holds up a reassuring hand, his eye pressed to the viewfinder. "Rolling," he mouths.

Franklin points to me, then J.T, then to the car. He raises one eyebrow. We don't want to say anything out loud—it'll be recorded on the tape.

The crying starts again. Getting louder. Where's the ambulance? And then I see what J.T. is capturing on camera.

A man hauls himself, hand over hand, out of the front seat. He leans against the open door, parka to window, and presses one gloved hand to his bleeding forehead. He's thirtyish, suburban. His pale blue puffy jacket, striped muffler and jeans are spattered with blood. "Gabe," he says. "Sophie."

He gestures toward the car, then crumples onto the front seat, planting his salt-stained Timberland boots in the snow. Red drops plunk onto the white, then one splats onto his tanboot. "I'm okay," he insists, waving a hand. "Justdizzy. Head on the steering wheel. Please. Gabe and Sophie."

"Sir?" Franklin says, stepping closer. "We called 911 and…"

I'm already yanking open the passenger-side rear door. A boy, five years old maybe, in chunky mittens and red parka, is still in his booster seat, seat belt on. His cheeks are wet. His eyes are wide. The crying is coming from beside him. There, an unhappy toddler in a pink hat, squirming in her flowered sweater and matching snow pants, is strapped into a padded baby seat.

"Are you the doctor?" the boy asks me. "Daddy said you would come."

"Hi, Gabe. I'm Charlie," I say. Am I supposed to move him? I glance at the driver's seat. In a newish car like this, I would have expected air bags in the front. "Everything is going to be all right, sweetheart. The doctor will be here in one second to get you out. Is that your sister? Do you hurt anywhere?"

"I was in a crash, so I cried a little," Gabe says. He's earnest, his brown eyes trusting. "But I'm a big boy. And I always wear my seat belt. So I don't hurt. Is my daddy hurt? Sophie is crying. She always cries. She's only one years old."

"Your dad is fine, that's a good boy," I reassure him. Little Sophie begins to wail full blast. Her blanket is on the floor of the car. I can't leave her there. Where is the ambulance? What makes a car blow up?

"Gabe? If I unhook your seat belt, can you get out? I'm going to get your sister, and then we'll all walk away from the car. Can you do that?"

If I move the kids, am I going to make this worse? Neither seems really hurt. And the ambulance must be on the way. And except maybe for the hit-and-run element, this is not much of a story. Luckily for all involved. But we have to wait for the EMTs, at least. And maybe the cops, too, since, technically, we're witnesses.

"I want out." Gabe, his face suddenly racked with uncertainty, elongates the final word into a mournful plea.

I reach over, unclick four pink webbed straps from around the now-quieting Sophie and ease her out of the baby seat, grabbing the yellow chenille blanket from the floor and wrapping it around her as I back out the door. Sophie sniffles, once, then I feel her little body burrow into my shoulder. On the other side of the car, her father is standing again. Where's the ambulance?

"The kids are fine," I call to him across the car. "We'll come to you."

The sky is steel and ice, promising another bitter night. I tuck the blanket closer around Sophie, and wiggle my fingers toward Gabe. "Take my hand, honey. Can you get down?"

Gabe slides off the seat and grabs my hand. His lower lip gives the beginnings of a quiver. "I want to see my daddy," he says, looking at me.

"Absolutely," I say. "And we can tell him how brave you are."

This has got to be the strangest interview I've ever done. The EMTs finally arrived, pleading "wicked traffic" and "buncha jerk" drivers. They checked the kids, plastered Declan Ross's forehead with a gauze-and-tape bandage, pronounced everyone fine and took off. Now Sophie's nestled peacefully over my shoulder, her little breath sounds snuffling into my ear. Franklin and Gabe, holding hands, are watching as I use my non-Sophie hand to hold the Channel 3 microphone, its chunky logo red, white and blue against the gray slush. I know we probably won't use my interview with Declan Ross, or even the video J.T. shot of the victims' car—Franklin's already informed the assignment desk it's too minor to make air.

And I'm yearning to leave, meet up with Josh, share our celebratory dinner. Take a step closer to becoming Penny's mom. But we're here, and my years of experience dictate it's easier to erase an interview than regret not doing it. Better to be safe than scooped. Your job could depend on it.

"So just to be clear," I say, bringing the microphone back in my direction, "this car is rented because yours is in the shop?" I flip the mic back to Ross.

Most helpful customer reviews

6 of 6 people found the following review helpful.
The Best in this series!
By Cindy Bauer
Ms. Ryan has really outdone herself on this last installment to the Charlotte McNally series. This time Charlie's aiming to stop a car scam operation while at the same time, planning for her upcoming wedding. By far the best of the four McNally stories, Ryan has held nothing back in this one. Full of action including high-speed car chases, hidden video, stakeouts, and even her fiancé and stepdaughter get tangled up in the weaving of deception, secrets and murder.

Ryan has a knack for storytelling and her real-life experience in news reporting is highly reflected in her writing. She has a very unique voice and the ability to make each story in her books better than the last one. Though her characters are fictional, you can only suspect that the McNally character reveals many of Ryan's own qualities, which appears to add humor and hands-on investigation into even to the grimmest of crimes.

Her stories in this series are well written, the plots are intriguing, the characters are extremely realistic and the background settings are right on target. I've read all four books in the McNally series and have to admit I've loved them all, but this last one, Drive Time, tops them all. A difficult task in outdoing the last great read, Ryan has handled the task with the ability to keep all the characters, old and new, in place - their personalities never faltering.

Also due to her experience in getting the facts and reporting the news, she's able to use her talents as well to make her stories realistic, allowing the reader into the mind of McNally, and laying out the details to make everything fit into place exactly right, holding the reader in suspense until she lets go of the climatic ending.

What I really enjoy about Ryan's writing is that you can't figure out the plot and ending before finishing the book. I just didn't want to put it down. A real page-turner!

Ryan is an amazing new talent in writing mysteries laced with realism, facts, and plenty of action! I'll miss the series and hope she will add more later on!

Reviewed by Cindy Bauer for [..]

Cindy Bauer is the well-seasoned author of the Memory Box Trilogy (Chasing Memories, Shades of Blue and Crystal Clear), an Inspirational Fiction series. She is an avid reader, a freelance writer and editor, and reviews books for [..]. She's also a volunteer staff member at Visual Arts Junction and contributes articles on writing, publishing and marketing works.

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
CHange is on the Air
By Nash Black
Charlotte McNally is trying to cope with changes in her life as the wedding day approaches. Can an investigative reporter keep secrets that may lead to a breaking story, a change in employment, or affect the loyalty due her intended, her working partners? The burden of shielding the source and doing the job she loves while making decisions that will affect her future make for a strong plot the plows through the narrow streets of Boston.
Hank Phillippi Ryan brings her fans the strongest mystery to date with DRIVE TIME. Charlie Mac at 47 is trying on motherhood, faculty wife, and maintaining the never ending task of following leads to develop a top breaking story for the newest ratings. Three murders, an auto accident, and a faculty meeting have her hopping from abode to home while living out of her tote bag.
This is one you will not want to miss from the annals of crime fiction related to television. Charlotte McNally will dig a hole in your heart and take up residence.
Nash Black, author of Indie finalists WRITING AS A SMALL BUSINESS and HAINTS.

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Drive Time
By Destiny Booze
Star Reporter Charlie McNally is juggling a heavy load. She has a wedding to plan, a big promotion to consider and a deadline to meet. Work and family are a new mix for her and she struggles with how to prioritize between the two.

Incorporating her soon-to-be step-daughter Penny into her life is also a challenge. When an unexplained death happens at Penny's school, Charlie steps in to help in the way that she knows best, as a reporter. There's a definite story there and she'll do what she needs to do to uncover the truth.

How much should she tell her fiancé about the stories she's working on? Where do her loyalties belong? As a woman with a loud biological clock ticking away the years, should she just give up the whole idea of a family by this stage in her life?

If you want to know what it's like to be a reporter in the fast lane, read DRIVE TIME by Hank Ryan Phillippi. This story felt real to me. I loved following Charlie as she works to solve the mysteries in the plot. Her character has a quiet strength that seems heroic even as she works through real emotions and issues that many women face every day.

This review is courtesy of Romance Junkies.

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## Download Mackenzies' Honor: Mackenzie's Pleasure\A Game Of Chance (Mira Romance), by Linda Howard

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A book in the Mackenzie Omnibus series

• Sales Rank: #86797 in Books
• Published on: 2005-09-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 1.36" h x 5.22" w x 8.02" l,
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 496 pages

Features

• two in one
• suspense
• romance

Most helpful customer reviews

5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
4 stars for one story. 3 stars for the other story.
By Jane
This book contains two stories, described below.

4 stars to MACKENZIE'S PLEASURE.
Nice story. I liked it. I plan to read most of Linda Howard's books. She is an excellent author. Although this was not one of her best, it was still worth reading. Story brief: Ambassador's daughter Barrie is kidnapped. Navy SEAL Zane rescues her. She falls in love with him. She continues to be in danger.

Sexual language: moderate. Number of sex scenes: seven or more. Setting: current day Libya and a few places in USA. Copyright: 1996. Genre: contemporary romantic suspense.

3 stars to A GAME OF CHANCE.
Pretty good. Not great, but I'm glad I read it because I plan to read most of Linda Howard's books. She is an excellent author, although this was not one of her best. The story and characters were reasonably interesting. She wrapped it up a little too quickly and easily at the end.

CAUTION SPOILERS: Chance lied to Sunny through most of the book. When she learned the truth, he didn't try to soften it, justify it or make her feel better. He acted like he couldn't care less how she felt. At that point, she appeared to hate him, and I didn't blame her. A couple of weeks later, in one short conversation, he said he loved her, he got her back, and they married. It seemed too easy. I would have liked to have seen him suffer a little more. Story brief: Terrorist's daughter is on the run, hiding from her father for most of her life. US government agent discovers her and uses her as bait to draw her father to be captured.

Sexual language: moderate. Number of sex scenes: four. Setting: current day, various locations in USA. Copyright: 2000. Genre: contemporary romance with mild suspense at the end.

29 of 38 people found the following review helpful.
Worth buying for Mackenzie's Pleasure
By bookjunkiereviews
In December 2005, I stumbled across this book (MACKENZIE'S PLEASURE) in a Silhouette edition twofer combining books by two different authors. Mackenzie's Pleasure, my Buried Treasure find for 2005, is the story of Zane Mackenzie, the youngest son of Wolf Mackenzie and his wife Mary Elizabeth (hero and heroine of Mackenzie's Mountain); I would love to see a twofer combining Mackenzie's Mountain with Mackenzie's Pleasure. Unfortunately, I have to settle for this book, which combines an excellent book with a less successful one.

Zane Mackenzie is called upon to execute a mission to rescue an ambassador's kidnapped daughter Barrie Lovejoy out of Libya. The first third of the book is about how the rescue takes place and with what consequences. In the second third, Zane and Barrie are separated by circumstances until they manage to find each other. Since there is a mystery and a bit of romantic suspense to the plot, I will not go further with the plot summary. It is probably sufficient to say that Barrie's kidnapping and rescue is somewhat more complicated than either Zane or Barrie realized.

MACKENZIE'S PLEASURE is one of the few stories where I genuinely liked the hero and heroine from the outset, and where I also felt that they were right for each other. That this contributed to my liking the book is not in question. Linda Howard's writing style also helped, as did her characterizations. Zane is an alpha male but not an overbearing alpha, but a protector and leader. The other SEALS came alive as did the heroine and her Ambassador father. What didn't work so well for me was the villain and his motivation (especially as explained to Barrie at the end).

Unfortunately, A GAME OF CHANCE is a very different kind of story about Chance, the adoptive son. Putting Chance and Zane together in the same "twofer" makes some sense, given that they are about the same age and apparently fought together regularly. The problem is not that Chance is the adoptive son, but that he is a different person from Zane. Whereas Zane makes it a point to protect the woman he loves (whether he realizes it or not), Chance uses the woman he loves (the heroine) as a bait for a dangerous trap. Arguing that he is not in love with the heroine does not change this fact. Chance's story is thus a disappointment for those who love heroes in the mold of Wolf and Zane Mackenzie, men who would do almost anything (save betray their country) to protect their families and their mates. I keep wondering if Chance would again put his wife in the line of fire in the national interest; the trouble is that I cannot convince myself that he had changed by the end.

MIRA's reprints: Mackenzie's Mountain (Wolf) goes with Mackenzie's Mission (Joe) in one volume. While Mackenzie's Magic (a story in an anthology) is left out, Mackenzie's Pleasure (Zane) is combined with A Game of Chance (Chance) in another volume. Of course, we have no stories for Michael and Josh, but have to find out what happy ending was in store for them from the first and last chapter of Mackenzie's Pleasure. I wish MIRA would reprint just the strongest stories Mackenzie's Mountain and Mackenzie's Pleasure.

Written by bookjunkiereviews 22 January 2006

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
One of the Best Romance Series
By G. Tofani
Along with Linda Howard's "Mackenzie's Legacy" (which includes "Mackenzie's Mission" and "Mackenzie's Mountain),

this is one of the best romance series I've read.

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** Free Ebook Discovering You (Whiskey Creek), by Brenda Novak

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Can she ever trust another "bad boy"? 

India Sommers once had the perfect family—until an ex-boyfriend broke in and shot her husband. Not only did that cost her the man she loved, a respected heart surgeon and the father of her child, but she also feels responsible. Charlie died because of the people she hung out with before she had the strength to change her life. 

Just after moving to Whiskey Creek with her little girl, Cassia, to start over, she's learned that her ex-boyfriend's trial ended in a hung jury. He's getting out of jail; he could try to find her again. And that's not all that scares her. She's extremely attracted to her next-door neighbor, but Rod Amos is the handsome "bad boy" type that's given her so much trouble in the past. If she got involved with him, her in-laws would sue for custody of Cassia. 

India has to keep her distance from Rod—but the more she gets to know him, the more difficult that becomes.

• Sales Rank: #53234 in Books
• Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2016-05-24
• Released on: 2016-05-24
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.53" h x 1.04" w x 4.24" l, .41 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 400 pages

Review
"Another Whiskey Creek novel is just what readers need to satisfy their craving for a romance that tugs at the heartstrings." -RT Book Reviews on A Winter Wedding, Top Pic

"[This Heart of Mine] had such beautiful details that it captured my full attention-and had me sniffling and smiling while waiting to board my plane." -First for Women

"This Heart of Mine is a potently emotional, powerfully life-affirming contemporary romance that can be read and enjoyed on its own, but it also serves as an excellent addition to Novak's popular Whiskey Creek series." -Booklist, starred review

"Another engrossing addition to Novak's addictive series." -Library Journal on This Heart of Mine, starred review

"Novak's Whiskey Creek novels are a favorite among romance readers because of their small-town charm... Novak never disappoints." -RT Book Reviews on This Heart of Mine, Top Pick

"Once again Novak's Whiskey Creek springs to life in all its realistic, gritty Gold Country glory as two determined, likable people come to terms with their pasts and give love a chance. This poignant, heartfelt romance puts a refreshing spin on the classic reunion/secret baby theme." -Library Journal on Come Home to Me

"One needn't wonder why Novak is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. Just read Come Home to Me." -Examiner.com

"The Whiskey Creek series is an absolute delight and this newest installment is...so satisfying I ran out of superlatives. Brenda Novak outdid herself in Take Me Home for Christmas." -Fresh Fiction

"It's steamy, it's poignant, it's perfectly paced-it's When Lightning Strikes and you don't want to miss it." -USATODAY.com's Happy Ever After blog

About the Author
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Brenda Novak has written over 50 novels. A five-time Rita nominee, she's won The National Reader's Choice, The Bookseller's Best, The Bookbuyer's Best and many other awards. Besides writing, she runs Brenda Novak for the Cure, a charity which hosts an annual fundraiser for diabetes research. To date, she's raised over $2.5 million for this cause. Brenda considers herself lucky to be a mother of five and married to the love of her life.

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Whiskey Creek is that you?
By B. Pendley
I love the Whiskey Creek series, however I almost forgot that this book was set there while reading it. I had forgotten about Rod and the other two brothers, not that they existed just their names and story lines because it had been so long since the appeared in a book. So when Mack and Natasha enter with their secondary storyline I had to go back to Dylan's book to figure out who was who. Even though this book is set in Whiskey Creek there's hardly any mention of the characters we've all grown to know and love. Granted they don't run in the same crowds but even Dylan and Cheyanne only make a brief appearance in it.
I enjoyed India and Rod storyline, but it almost was too much going on at once between Rods fight, her past and her fight with her in laws. Just a little hard to get into them with all that going on.
I am hoping Mack and Nastasha get a story later on after she's finished college and their parents split.

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
DON'T MISS THIS ONE! I LOVED this book!
By faerea
LOVED this book! This is a story of second chances and unfailing love. India has lost everything except her little girl, and that little girl means the world to her. She will do anything she can to protect her daughter, and keep her safe at her side. Rod has a bad boy persona that will not let anyone see the good guy beneath. He has had a hard life, but he has a loving and devoted family he would do anything for. He has never been in this place before, with a woman who can change his life. India doesn't want to want him, but she cant help herself. Rod is not looking for forever, but he cant help himself. They both need a new start, and they find it in each other. This book was a great addition to the Whiskey Creek series, and although it stands on its own, it was nice to run into old friends from the town. This is a must read, and one of Brenda's best books to date. DON'T MISS THIS ONE!

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Interesting
By English teacher
I have read the entire Whiskey Creek series. Some stories are better than others. This one is interesting because it's about a minor player from a family in town that is peripherally connected to the main characters from previous stories. I liked Rod quite a bit. He reminded me of Dylan who's my favorite character. He's Dylan's brother and is a good guy. He falls for his neighbor, India who is running from her past. The story has some interesting twists to it. I like the way the author didn't drag every previous character from previous stories into this one. There's an interesting side story about Mack, another Amos brother. The story is fast moving and plausible. The connection between the characters is good. I recommend this to anyone looking for a good love story about interesting people in an interesting town.

See all 222 customer reviews...

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