Betrayed Excerpt:

“Oh lord! They killed her! They killed Gina. God help me!” Brook sobbed, staring heavenward through the denuded treetops, praying she wouldn’t be next. Flakes of snow drifted down onto her face as she waited for her heart to stop hammering. Gradually, her tears subsided and her pulse stabilized. It wasn’t exactly grief she felt for Gina, more like pity. The girl was hateful, immature, and not very smart, but killing her seemed outrageous. She was one of them. How could they just kill one of their own? Brook closed her eyes tightly for a few seconds, but there was no time for rumination. I have to keep moving.

Sitting up, Brook released her grip on her purse and with difficulty undid the catch on one of the straps. She looped the bag around her neck, reattached the strap, and tucked it inside the shirt. Now her hands were free and she felt relieved. Keeping the bag safe had become a necessary burden; now it would be easier to manage.

She couldn’t go back to the road, even if she could find her way. For all she knew, Jase might be patrolling the area, just waiting for her to be foolish enough to return to the wrecked car. How long would she have to be out here? How would she survive? Panic rose up and nearly choked her.

Taking slow, even breaths around the jagged pain in her side, she struggled to gain control over her emotions. Think for a minute! Just think! Her brain scrambled to collect everything she knew about survival in the wild, and it wasn’t much. She had a niggling concern that eating snow was bad for a person, but becoming dehydrated would also be a problem; she would eat snow if she had to. Food was another matter. However, she reasoned, the worst part of her predicament was the cold. She had no idea how far she had traveled or how she could ever climb back up to where she was before she had fallen. The steep, brush-choked incline continued in both directions as far as she could see. Besides, it would be too risky to go back for her ‘shoes’. She would have to continue on bare feet.

 Tears ran down her cheeks at the thought of putting weight on her damaged feet, but she tried to stand anyway. Pain soared up her legs and she slumped back to the ground. A fresh, sharp sting issued from the back of her thigh. She turned her leg and found a large gash emitting a steady flow of blood. She wiped her hand on her shirt and turned her eyes back to the slope. Unable to go up, unable to walk, she pulled herself along the ravine, tugging the shirt sleeves down over her hands to protect them.

She had lost the stream and was thirsty again, and the cold had reclaimed her. She took small mouthfuls of snow, but it did nothing to ease the parched feeling in her mouth and throat, and she had started to shiver again. It was another half hour before she found a shallow rain puddle in the hollow of a large flat rock. She broke through the paper-thin crust of ice over the water and drank deeply before moving on.

The woods grew denser, and the ground became riddled with knobby roots and half-buried stones. Her progress was slow and painful. After a while, she came to a game path, hard packed dirt with few rocks. Brook thanked God for giving her a way relatively clear of obstacles. She crawled onto the path, brushing stray branches and rocks from the ground as she went, making her way steadily onward, putting more and more distance between herself and the wrecked car. The shirt she wore was now wet and clung to her skin like a layer of frost.

Snow began to accumulate under the wide-spreading branches overhanging the trail. But, so far it was just a light covering, and for this she was grateful.

After a while, she tried to stand again, pulling herself upright with the help of a tree. Pain radiated up her legs, but her feet were numb from the cold and she found she could stumble along at a slow pace. It seemed she had been wandering for hours. Providing she hadn’t been going in circles, she calculated that she should be miles from the car by now. But she could see no help in sight and no foreseeable end to her misery. She had heard that freezing to death was a peaceful way to go. Brook couldn’t imagine how that could possibly be true as she stood quaking in the frigid air. She assumed she would eventually just lie down and close her eyes, and then it would all be over. She would just fall asleep and never wake up. Tears stung her eyes again. She didn’t want to die! Keep moving, said a small voice in her head. Keep moving.

 

 Zeke excerpt

An idea came to her. “What if we just took a vacation? We could go to Acadia, see Bar Harbor.”

“Ah, Susie.” Zeke sounded sad. “No, bunny. A vacation is not what I have in mind. If anything, I want to head south. Or west. You need to understand me here, Sue. I want to leave. I’m writing the story of my own life, metaphorically, creating it as I go. And the only reason this place is still part of my story is because you are here. But I won’t stay; not even for you, Susie. Not even for you. Come with me.”

Sue stared thoughtfully at her lover. A man so handsome that people actually stopped to stare at him, this beautiful man, was asking her to run away with him. Sue allowed herself to gloat privately. Plain old Sue caught the most exciting guy in town. On the heels of that thought, the memory of his moodiness also flickered through her mind, a quick warning to cloud the moment like a squirt of black ink in a clear pool. As if he perceived the reason for her hesitation, he reached under her clothes and caressed her.

“Sweet sexy Susie,” he murmured. He told her how much he cared for her, how he loved her like none other, how he would look after her. “We’ll be wild gypsies, a caravan of two. Passionate adventures.” He paused to nuzzle her neck. “It’ll be romantic.”

“Okay,” she breathed, hardly believing the words as they left her mouth. “We’ll do it. We’ll just hit the open road.”

Afterward, Sue went home pretending everything was normal. But, inside she was wound up, distressed and excited at the same time.

“Sue?” Her mother stood near the kitchen doorway. “Joyce called. She said she tried your cellular phone, but you didn’t answer.”

“I had it turned off when I was at the library.” Sue let her eyes rest on her mom for a moment. She took in the plain flowered cotton gown and was seized by a momentary urge to fling herself into her mother’s arms like she had when she was a child. Instead, she turned toward the stairs. “I’ll call her before I go to bed. Goodnight, Mom.”

“Goodnight, honey.” Her mother flicked off the kitchen light and headed toward her bedroom.

“Mom?” Sue swallowed. “I love you.”

Her mother paused and turned to Sue with a smile. “Well, I love you too, dear.” Then, a wrinkle of concern appeared on her forehead. “Is everything alright?”

“Yep, everything’s fine. Goodnight.”

Sue ran lightly up the stairs, anxious to be away from her mom before her feelings got the better of her. She’d come way too close to blurting out her plans.

Lying on her bed she stared around her bedroom, overwhelmed by the gravity of her decision to leave. To give up everything familiar and run headlong into the unknown was the most frightening thing she had ever contemplated. Numbing herself to these emotions, Sue picked up her notebook. She crafted her goodbye letter carefully, following Zeke’s instructions, giving no clue as to his identity. The next morning, she would spirit some of her clothes and personal items away, take a portion of her college fund out of the bank, and meet Zeke at the graveyard where she would abandon her car. She thought guiltily of the pain she was about to cause her family, and then her body warmed with the memory of Zeke’s touch and her resolve strengthened. She had to do this; she’d hate herself if she let the chance pass her by.

 

 Sue, sequel to Zeke excerpt

The physical wounds would take a long time to heal, the psychological wounds even longer.

Sue Cox huddled in the hospital bed, her battered face a testament of the torture she’d experienced at the hands of Zeke, the man she had loved. Other deeper wounds hid beneath bandages and blankets and behind the haunted look in her swollen, bruised eyes.

She jerked in fright toward the doorway as footsteps slowed and then stopped outside her room. Someone entered but she couldn’t see who it was; a curtain blocked her vision. Her heart rate accelerated and she reached for the call button. But she relaxed when private investigator, Will Falstaff, came into sight carrying a vase overflowing with yellow flowers and a cheery balloon bobbing on a ribbon.

He couldn’t hide his wince at the sight of her, although he’d seen her just the day before and should have been mentally prepared for the vision she presented. If anything, her injuries looked worse. More swelling, deeper bruising. But that was often the case with a severe beating.

Sue noticed his reaction. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” She shot a meaningful glance in the direction of her hovering parents.

“No, no. You seem much better today. I can tell,” Will lied, understanding she wanted him to play down her condition for the sake of her folks. He busied himself arranging the items he’d brought on her bedside table.

Frank Cox stood and shook Will’s hand. Linda, his wife, gave him a quick hug and stepped back, pressing a tissue to her cheek to catch a tear. Tension occupied the room along with a sense of sorrow.

Will cleared his throat. “Have you folks had lunch yet?”

“No,” Linda hurried to answer. “We’re not hungry.” Her stomach growled and she looked abashed.

Will smiled softly. “Go ahead. I’ll sit with Sue while you go down to the cafeteria.”

He was rewarded with looks of gratitude from Sue’s parents.

“That would be great, Will. We just hate leaving her here alone.” Frank reached over and patted Sue’s hand, carefully avoiding the IV. “We’ll be right back, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok, Dad. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her joke fell flat and a look of dismay passed over Frank’s face. The fact that she had gone somewhere in the not-too-distant past was the reason she was here in this hospital room, recovering from a brutal attack.

Sue hurried to correct her mistake. “I just mean, go ahead and eat. I’ll be fine. Mr. Falstaff is here and there’s an officer right outside my door. Take your time.”

Linda kissed her daughter lightly on the temple. Turning, she took her husband’s arm, speaking over her shoulder as Frank led her toward the door. “They have a buffet. We won’t be long.”

Once they were gone, Sue sighed deeply. “Thank you, Mr. Falstaff. This will sound awful, but I really needed a break from them. I mean, I’m glad they’re here, but their distress exhausts me. It’s hard to take. They want me to talk to them, tell them everything that happened; which I could never do. Besides, I just want to forget it all.”

Will nodded as he pulled up a chair beside her bed. “I doubt if it will be that simple, Susan. You’ve been through a lot. It’s most likely going to take awhile to…”

“I know, I know.” She closed her eyes briefly. “A psychologist was in earlier. The doctors want me to set up regular appointments with a therapist when I get home. My folks were all over that, agreeing with him. So, I guess I’ll be talking to a shrink.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.” Will removed his coat and leaned back.

Sue gave him a sad look. “Don’t you see? The last thing I want to do is rehash what happened. It’s humiliating.”

She shifted in bed, the movement bringing a quick grimace to her face. She reached for her glass of water and Will scooted the tray closer so she could get it. After a sip on the straw, she replaced the drink and lay back against her pillow. Her eyes rested on Will’s face. “Do you think I need a psychiatrist?”

Will took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know you want me to say you don’t, but there are times in almost everyone’s lives when they could use counseling. Unfortunately most of us ignore the need. But you’ve been through more than anyone deserves and your wounds run much deeper than the surface. Sometimes it helps to talk to someone.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m ruined anyway.”

 

 Dark Longings excerpt

The article, grisly as the contents were, didn’t hold Ruby’s attention. Her gaze traveled idly over the nearby buildings. On the brick wall of a tavern, she noticed odd chalk graffiti, remarkable only because of its lack of creativity; it was just a few numbers and letters. A whatnot shop sat on the corner and the window boasted an array of miscellany: drapes, dishes, dresses, and knickknacks, among other items. She stepped closer to examine the wares and thought she might come back when the store was open and see how much the drapes were; their bohemian flair would fit her apartment décor perfectly. Her eyes caught a reflection in the glass.

Turning quickly, Ruby gasped aloud. “Kenny!” She knew her distress could be heard in her voice but she couldn’t hide her shock at his appearance. He looked horrible. His face was the color of putty and there were dark rings beneath his eyes. Sweat beaded on his forehead even though the evening was cool.

“Ruby,” Kenny acknowledged her presence quietly, one hand going to his head. His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Going home from the mall.” She held up the sack, but he ignored it.

He took Ruby’s shoulders, shook her gently, and gave her a hard stare. “You shouldn’t hang around here. This isn’t a good place.” He dropped his hands and looked around nervously.

“I’m not hanging around. You know damn well I’m waiting for the bus,” Ruby snapped. “What the hell’s your problem?’

Kenny took a half step back, caught off guard.

Ruby shook off her irritation and searched his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m good. It’s just this headache.” He leaned against the brick exterior of the shop and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Kenny. Tell me you’re not using. Please.”

“Oh for…” He paused, balling his hands into fists. “If that’s the first thing you think of each time I have a headache or the sniffles, then we don’t have a chance of working things out.”

Ruby recognized this as an obvious attempt to make her feel guilty and stood firm. “Grow up, Kenny. I’m only asking because I care about you, and you know it. Answer my question, dammit.”

“I’m not, Rube. I swear.” Kenny took several deep breaths, getting his anger under control. “I’m just really tired from working so much. I’ve got an acting job now, believe it or not.”

“Acting? I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. Aren’t you still working at Dick’s?”

“Sure. Of course. This acting thing is at night.”

Kenny lifted his head to watch the transit bus approach and Ruby noticed a bandage on his neck, similar to the one she saw on that guy, Chad. “What’s this?” She reached up to pull it off but he grabbed her wrist and pushed it away.

“Damn it, Ruby. You never let up, do you? I cut myself shaving. For the love of God, I can’t win. Why don’t you just stay the hell out of my business?” He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, turned his back on her, and stormed away.

Ruby stood silently as the bus doors opened, her throat tight with unshed tears. Without another word, she turned and boarded the bus. She flopped into a seat and stared straight ahead, eyes misty. Disappointment spread its heaviness over her heart. No matter what he said, Kenny must have fallen back into his old ways. Just a week since she’d last seen him and he looked like a different person.

Kenny glanced over his shoulder to make sure Ruby got on the bus. Tears stung his eyes, too, and he wiped them on his sleeve. He’d hated coming down so hard on her, but he needed some space to sort things out. She’d never understand what he was involved in. Even he couldn’t understand why he went back after he swore he wouldn’t. At least he hadn’t lied to her. It wasn’t his old habit that was hurting him now. It was something much darker.

 

 Tangerine excerpt

A shadow loomed over him. Pisk raised his eyes. “Look,” he said.

“I’m looking,” Ava said softly, amazement lighting her features. They were surrounded by a group of silent bovines, larger than Earth giraffes, but delicately fashioned like deer. Covered in long silky auburn hair, they grazed peacefully, their delicate ears the size of dinner plates and wispy as gauze. Their approach had been ethereal, as if they had suddenly materialized. Ava resisted the urge to stroke one of the animals and settled instead for photos and vids. She pulled her cam from its cord around her neck and began filming. The animals were indifferent to her and Pisk. They moved to the stream and began drinking deeply, barely disturbing the water with their long, hollow, spoon-shaped tongues. Ava and Pisk watched as, in unison, the herd turned their heads and fanned their ears in a listening pose. The next instant they were gone, racing and leaping across the plain like colossal gazelles.

“They’re beautiful,” Ava said breathlessly. “I wonder why they ran away.”

She and Pisk stared after them, admiring their bounding dance over the swaying grasses when a warning screech was wrenched from Pisk’s throat, a primal sound born of instinctual fear.

“Run! Flee!” he cried, and leapt toward the skimmer. Ava turned to see a great winged creature zooming down on them from the sky, its body that of a huge insect, its shrill drone piercing her ears. She scrambled into the skimmer and powered up. They were airborne in seconds.

“Shields,” she screamed, just as great insect pounded into the side of her craft and knocked it into a wobble. She overcorrected, and the small raft skipped roughly over the field like a stone over water. Swift as beacon, the monster turned and flew toward them again, its mandibles opening and closing like jaws of death. Ava leveled the skimmer and went into evasive maneuvers, but the insect matched her move for move, swooping for the craft again and again.

Ava activated the discharge field just as the thing rammed them again, zapping their attacker with high voltage when it made contact with the shields. It sizzled, twitched, and fell dead on top of the craft, its weight dragging the small skimmer down with a hard thud and thrusting it into a wild scoot along the surface. The skimmer tore through the tall grass before slamming into a small rock formation. The monstrous insect was flung from the skimmer and came to rest several yards further, flopping into the meadow like a huge bag of sand.