Carries Book Reviews

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If anyone is a bowling fan out there they might know what I mean when I say this week I achieved the turkey of behaving! Three weeks in a row now I’ve managed to wrangle in my clicking finger and not overload another branch on my towering TBR! We all know it won’t last but I’ll take the win while I can and share five new titles with you all this week. 😀

As always clicking the covers will take you to the book on Amazon!**

New additions from Netgalley June 18th – June 25th

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Nanny and What She Knew comes the terrifying story of what can happen after all your dreams come true

Be careful what you wish for…

Childhood sweethearts Nicole and Tom are a normal, loving couple—until a massive lottery win changes their lives overnight.

Soon they’ve moved into a custom-built state-of-the-art Glass Barn on the stunning grounds of Lancaut Manor in Gloucestershire. They have fancy cars, expensive hobbies, and an exclusive lifestyle they never could have imagined.

But this dream world quickly turns into a nightmare when Tom is found dead in the swimming pool. 

Nicole is devastated. Tom was her rock. And their beautiful barn —with all its smart features that never seem to work for her—is beginning to feel very lonely. But she’s not entirely by herself out there in the country. There’s a nice young couple who live in the Manor itself along with their middle-aged housekeeper who has the Coach House. And an old friend of Tom’s from school has turned up to help her get through her grief. 

But big money can bring big problems and big threats. Was Tom’s death a tragic accident, or was it something worse? And is her life in danger as well?

Nicole’s beginning to feel like a little fish in a big glass bowl.

Surrounded by piranhas.

USA TODAY bestselling author Kathryn Springer brings holiday cheer in this festive story about fresh starts and unexpected love blooming on a snow-covered Christmas tree farm.

It’s three weeks until Christmas, and Lucy Gable is not in the holiday spirit. She’s the assistant to bestselling romance author Brynn Dixon, who’s been suffering from major burnout. Hoping to reduce Brynn’s stress, Lucy’s organized an intimate book tour—one that includes a charming little Christmas tree farm. And they’re still hoping that no one discovers that Lucy was the one who finished writing Brynn’s last book…

But Lucy’s carefully planned book tour is going completely awry. The Christmas tree farm owner is a reluctant host, the fans are going wild for the changes Lucy’s made to the book and Brynn’s adult son—who no one else knows about—is an unexpected (if handsome) distraction. And, as if those challenges aren’t enough, a winter storm at the farm is ensuring that hiding the truth is all but impossible.

Yet somewhere between snowy sleigh rides, a cozy bonfire, caroling and the promise of new love, Lucy is experiencing her first winter wonderland. And Brynn is discovering that it might not be too late to find her own happy ending. With a little courage and a sense of adventure, it might just be the start of whole new chapters for both of them—and an accidentally perfect white Christmas.

A pulse-pounding novel about a small-town business owner found dead and the teenage girl caught in the crosshairs, American Girl is the latest thriller from internationally bestselling author Wendy Walker.

Charlie Hudson, an autistic seventeen-year-old, is determined to leave Sawyer, PA, as soon as she graduates high school. In the meantime, she works as many hours as she can at a sandwich shop called The Triple S to save money for college. But when shop owner, Clay Cooper—a man both respected and feared in their small economically depressed town—is found dead, each member of his staff becomes a suspect in the perplexing case. Before she can go anywhere, Charlie must protect herself and her friends by uncovering the danger that is still lurking in their tightknit community.

Based on the #1 bestselling Audible Original, author Wendy Walker returns with another riveting thriller, told through the eyes of an unforgettable protagonist.

In this romantic fantasy of manners from New York Times bestselling author Allison Saft, a magical dressmaker commissioned for a royal wedding finds herself embroiled in scandal when a gossip columnist draws attention to her undeniable chemistry with the groom.

Niamh Ó Conchobhair has never let herself long for more. The magic in her blood that lets her stitch emotions and memories into fabric is the same magic that will eventually kill her. Determined to spend the little time she has left guaranteeing a better life for her family, Niamh jumps at the chance to design the wardrobe for a royal wedding in the neighboring kingdom of Avaland.

But Avaland is far from the fairytale that she imagined. While young nobles attend candlelit balls and elegant garden parties, unrest brews amid the working class. The groom himself, Kit Carmine, is prickly, abrasive, and begrudgingly being dragged to the altar as a political pawn. But when Niamh and Kit grow closer, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more―until an anonymous gossip columnist starts buzzing about their chemistry, promising to leave them alone only if Niamh helps to uncover the royal family’s secrets. The rot at the heart of Avaland runs deep, but exposing it could risk a future she never let herself dream of, and a love she never thought possible.

Transporting readers to a Regency England-inspired fantasy world, A Fragile Enchantment is a sweeping romance threaded with intrigue, unforgettable characters, and a love story for the ages.

From J. H. Markert, the “clear heir to Stephen King” (Peter Farris), this horrifying novel brings our darkest dreams and nightmares to life.

In the vein of T. Kingfisher and Christopher Golden, the boundary protecting our world from the monsters on the other side is weakening—and Mister Lullaby is about to break through.

The small town of Harrod’s Reach has seen its fair share of the macabre, especially inside the decrepit old train tunnel around which the town was built. After a young boy, Sully Dupree, is injured in the abandoned tunnel and left in a coma, the townspeople are determined to wall it up. Deputy sheriff Beth Gardner is reluctant to buy into the superstitions until she finds two corpses at the tunnel’s entrance, each left with strange calling cards inscribed with old lullabies. Soon after, Sully Dupree briefly awakens from his coma.

Before falling back into his slumber, Sully manages to give his older brother a message. Sully’s mind, since the accident, has been imprisoned on the other side of the tunnel in Lalaland, a grotesque and unfamiliar world inhabited by evil mythical creatures of sleep. Sully is trapped there with hundreds of other coma patients, all desperately fighting to keep the evils of the dream world from escaping into the waking world.

Elsewhere, a man troubled by his painful youth has for years been hearing a voice in his head he calls Mr. Lullaby, and he has finally started to act on what that voice is telling him—to kill any coma patient he can find, quickly.

Something is waking up in the tunnel—something is trying to get through. And Mr. Lullaby is coming.

**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**

Still Sky
Skylar Nightingale
Publication date: June 20th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Sky Hartman is enduring another conversation with her mom about her nonexistent love life when she slams into sexy business mogul Mateo Jacobson with a hot cup of coffee in her hand.

Despite their messy meeting, Sky is quickly swept up in his charismatic charm. Her best friend warns her of his notorious playboy ways, but after a few warm and cozy nights by the fire, Sky realizes she’s falling for him.

Until his womanizing ways leave her heart shattered.

When Mateo’s best friend, Cade, swoops in to console her, Sky questions his intentions. Although it makes her uneasy to learn his true feelings for her, she wonders if his sweet, romantic nature is what she needs.

But when Mateo is attacked and left for dead, Sky volunteers to help nurse him back to health. Faced, once more, with the selfless and tender ways of the suave casanova, will Sky risk heartbreak again by choosing Mateo? Or will Cade’s kindness and laughter provide her with the happily ever after she hopes for?

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

I was walking along a peaceful path in the woods when a branch snapped beneath my barefoot. Birds flew away, shrieking in the distance. For some strange reason, I was not wearing any shoes. I wiggled my toes and continued my peaceful journey. But I came to a screeching halt when I noticed splotches of blood on the ground. My heart raced, and I thought about turning back. But my feet continued to carry me forward. The splotches were getting larger and becoming more frequent as I walked. And then I saw it. I saw him lying there on the ground in a pool of blood. Mateo. He was lying motionless with his eyes closed. Squealing louder than I’ve ever squealed in my life, I sprinted over to him. “No. No. Teo,” I screamed, rocking his body back and forth with force. I lifted his shirt to see where the blood was coming from. But there was no indication of where it was escaping. His body was intact. I checked his neck for a pulse. Pulse, pulse, where the heck was his pulse? I checked his inner wrist. I couldn’t feel it. “Where is it?” I sobbed, clasping his shirt. “Teo. Please. Please. Come back to me.”

 

Author Bio:

Skylar Nightingale has always had a vast imagination, inventing characters that could either break your heart or have you standing in awe. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, and listening to music. She grew up in Upstate New York. She now resides in a small town with her loving family, where her love of creating characters and stories envelop her thoughts, allowing her to continue in her writing journey.

Website / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter

 

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The Broken Protector
Nicole Snow
Publication date: June 22nd 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Starting over isn’t easy when an unexpected hero crashes her plans in this steamy and gripping new small-town enemies-to-lovers romance by Wall Street Journal bestselling author Nicole Snow.

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire.

Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore.

Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable.

Just when I’m sure it can’t get worse, I’m “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles.

Enter Lucas Graves.

A bossy grump with a badge who’s sworn to keep me safe.

He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back.

Not the type of man I’d go for in my right mind.

Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

Redhaven, North Carolina has driven me insane.

Why else does my heart race when Lucas gets jealous and overprotective?

How could I think he’ll ever share more than another reckless night?

He guards his own battered heart as fiercely as he watches over me.

It can’t get more complicated.

Oh, but then it does.

There’s a razor-thin line between heartbreak and hope with a broken protector.

He’s so wrong for me I could scream.

But I’m not losing sleep over the very real danger I’m in.

I’m terrified that Lucas Graves might be the best thing that’s ever happened—if he’d let us happen at all.

This big slice of feel-good small-town romance brings enemies to lovers fire, hilarious sweetness, heart-thumping suspense, and all the butterflies. Smile yourself silly as one big bossy lunk tries to keep his heart and his secrets from the headstrong new girl destined to make him whole.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

I can’t stop scowling at his back, pathetically speechless.

Yeah, I’ve got to find a better way to say dick.

I’m not even sure why he riles me up so much.

Probably that juvenile Miss New York nickname and the way he always shows up without warning. Or it’s the laughably inappropriate way he got me to stop fixating on the dead girl by teasing me about sleeping on his sofa.

Or maybe it’s just that he’s so flipping tall.

I’ve been a short stack my whole life.

And I’ve had more than one person try to make me feel small, crowding me out of daring to take up space.

“…hello? Miss?”

Oh.

Trisha’s talking to me.

My face goes hot and I whip my eyes back to her, clearing my throat. “Sorry. So, about those membership plans?”

It doesn’t take long before I’m set up with a monthly trial plan. I’m almost shocked at how cheap it is when I’m used to NYC markups on everything.

I could’ve saved even more if I’d committed to a quarterly plan. But maybe I’m thinking about dead bodies, quietly wondering just what my limit is for how many I’m cool with before I panic and hightail it out of town.

Or I’m just being dramatic, and what’s actually on my mind is tree-lined lanes and how nice it would be to jog down them at sunrise, no membership required.

Sighing, I do a quick five-minute set of stretches before I claim one of the treadmills with House Hunters on TV for company.

I’ve barely started a light jog when the men’s locker room door swings open and Lucas Graves stalks back out, sans gym bag.

He takes one glance at me—a glance that lingers too long, making me nearly trip on my own feet—before he looks at the television.

Somehow, he switches the channel over to Better Call Saul before climbing on the treadmill next to mine and gliding into a steady, pounding pace.

Holy hell.

The man goes from nothing to a strong, violent run in under five seconds. Almost like a racehorse bursting out of the gate.

He runs for two solid minutes without even huffing.

This. Is. So. Bad.

My mind goes terrible places, wondering what else his body can do with gym-freak stamina like that.

“I was watching that, you know,” I mutter when I can’t stand it any longer.

He doesn’t look at me, his mile-wide chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths.

“So change it back. You’ve got thumbs, right?” His gaze stays on his digital readouts as he shrugs.

“Um, yes. I have thumbs. Very observant.” Glaring, I manage to hold up a thumb instead of another middle finger salute. I’m being nice today.

I shake my head, ready for more of his crap, but apparently he’s holding back too.

“So change it back,” I mouth, scowling, but then slow the treadmill and step off it.

I brace my burning feet on the floor for a second before I stomp over, grab the remote on a little console table under the TV, and flick the channel back to my show.

I don’t even make it back to my machine before the sound changes, and Bob Odenkirk starts yelling at a couple cartel guys who look like they eat kittens for breakfast.

Yep.

Looks like I’m going to get arrested for assaulting a cop today.

I whip my head up, glaring at the TV, then at Lucas.

He’s got his phone out, not even missing a stride as he taps his screen. I catch a glimpse of the Roku logo.

Oh, that absolute jerk. He’s got an app synced to this TV, and he just—

Argh!

A little growl slips up my throat. Still gripping the remote, I punch the button back to House Hunters, staring at him pointedly the entire time.

He’s still got his head bowed, his face unreadable as the TV changes again.

“Oops,” he whispers. “Butterfingers.”

“Butterfingers, my ass!” I hiss back, stabbing the button again. “Dude, do you mind?”

He spreads his hands.

With his long, easy stride, the motion makes the muscles in his waist pull dangerously tight against his A-shirt that’s finally starting to darken with sweat.

“Don’t know what’s wrong with this damn thing,” he lies. “It’s busted today. Just keeps switching back on its own.”

Right as he taps his phone again, watching me with a mock-innocent look.

Right on cue, the TV flicks back to his stupid suspense show despite me mashing the button down like my life depends on it.

“You don’t know what’s wrong with it, huh?” I can’t believe I’m this annoyed and yet somehow smirking helplessly.

Idiot.

I jab the button again—really fast this time, stabbing it with my fingertip—just as he hits the button on his screen. The TV starts flickering back and forth like a psychedelic kaleidoscope of noise and color.

“Maybe your thumb’s broken,” I say. “Mine are working, last I checked.”

He glances at his hand languidly then, lifting his thumb off his phone. “Must be. Would you look at that. It should stay now.”

I snort and hit my channel again, shaking my head as I try to pick up the pace and try to have a normal workout.

I point two fingers at my eyes and then at him.

I’m watching you.

 

Author Bio:

Nicole Snow is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author. She found her love of writing by hashing out love scenes on lunch breaks and plotting her great escape from boardrooms. Her work roared onto the indie romance scene in 2014 with her Grizzlies MC series.

Since then Snow aims for the very best in growly, heart-of-gold alpha heroes, unbelievable suspense, and swoon storms aplenty. With over a million books sold, she lives for the joy of making two people fight with every bit of their soul for a Happily Ever After.

Current fan favorites include her Enguard Protectors series, accidental love novels, plus long beloved MC romance thrillers like the Grizzlies and Deadly Pistols.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub / Twitter

 

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Beach Please
Melanie Summers
(Paradise Bay, #6)
Publication date: June 22nd 2023
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

A hilarious and heartwarming story that’ll have you snort-laughing, swooning, and sighing with happiness…

Lola Gordon’s dreams of a thriving surf shop were shattered when her ex vanished with all the money in their business account, leaving her on the brink of losing everything. With the bank set to auction off her beloved shop and its contents in just six weeks, Lola is desperate to find a solution.

When news of an exciting treasure hunt sweeps through the island, Lola sees it as her last chance to reclaim her surf shop and rebuild her life. There’s just one obstacle standing in her way: she needs a boat.

Enter Aidan Clarke, a disillusioned Canadian expat seeking solace in the tranquil shores of Paradise Bay. Having recently discovered his fiancée’s infidelity with his brother, Aidan wants to be alone. So when his parents decide to visit and hunt for a house near his seaside cottage, Aidan realizes he must create an illusion of happiness.

He proposes a deal to Lola: he’ll provide the boat she needs if she agrees to pose as his live-in girlfriend.

As Lola and Aidan set sail on their adventure, the lines between fiction and reality blur, and their fake affection starts to feel all too genuine.

Join Lola and Aidan as their dreams are tested, their hearts are mended, and a sun-kissed romance awaits…

Beach Please is a closed-door rom-com with a bit of heat and a fair bit of cursing. It stands alone (although to get the full treasure hunt experience, it’s best to read Whisked Away first) and comes complete with maps, colourful graphics, and a whole lot of ice cream…

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

“Aww, you two look so sweet,” his mom says. “I need to get a picture of you together.”

We both sit up and Aidan puts his arm around me, pulling me in. I rest my head on his shoulder and smile, my heart pounding and my stomach fluttering for some strange reason. I don’t want either of those things to happen. Yes, he’s hot, but he’s also a fussy neat freak and we have absolutely no future together.

“You two are going to have the most beautiful children,” she says, still holding the phone up.

My face flames at that thought and I can’t help but feel a tug of guilt for lying to them like this.

“Did you get the shot, mom?” Aidan asks.

“Nuts,” Ginnie says. “The camera was aimed at me the whole time. One second.”

“Sorry about this,” Aidan murmurs.

“It’s fine, really,” I say, even though it’s not fine because the longer our bodies are pressed together like this, the more I’m enjoying it. If I’m not careful, I’m going to wind up feeling very confused about what we’re actually doing here, and with us about to spend who knows how long alone together on his boat, I definitely can’t afford to be getting confused. I remind myself that he’s solidly anti-relationship. I remind myself we have nothing in common. I remind myself that the last thing I need right now is a man. And yet, the smell of his skin and the feeling of his arm around me is suggesting otherwise…

 

Author Bio:

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally – then she’ll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for ‘K’ Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn’t require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she’s not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something–more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

 

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Above the Fold
Corrina Lawson
Published by: City Owl Press
Publication date: June 20th 2023
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Romance

In 1980s New York City, a crime reporter with little to lose risks the only thing that matters to uncover the truth….

 

Trisha Connell’s journalism reflects her punk rock lifestyle: relentless, confrontational, and bitingly honest. It’s a style that scores front-page headlines but has her forever teetering on the verge of victory or disaster. Now one crime will forever change Trisha’s life.

As she charges into the story of a sensational theft at an art museum, she discovers a murdered guard is someone she knew, a former foster kid who was adopted and supposed to be living a good life. To make it worse, the guard is suspected to be one of the thieves.

Determined to uncover the truth, Trisha bulls her way into the story, risking her life and career on what could be the story of the decade, if her editor doesn’t fire her first. She finds an ally in Edmund Grayson, a security expert assigned to the museum, who’s driven by his own guilt in failing to stop the murder.

Chasing the story will take Trisha from the punk clubs to the high society to the inner workings of newspapers of New York in the 1980s. It will take all her street skills to survive.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

TRISHA STAGGERED to her motorcycle just as hangover dizziness hit full force. She dropped to one knee on the slimy blacktop of the narrow alley, clutching the soft leather of the bike’s seat for balance. A deep breath brought a whiff of urine and wet rats into her nostrils.

The rising sun peeked over the far corner of the four-story brick monstrosity that held the punk club where she’d spent the night.

Best time to see the sunrise, when I’m ready for bed.

But the beeper in her jacket pocket vibrated. Her fingers fumbled over a wad of tissues, breath mints, quarters, and subway tokens before she finally clutched the beeper.

Her editor’s number stared at her from the display.

Damn. Phone. Now. Back inside.

As she turned, the sunlight caught the tank of her restored Indian

Chief, making the bike’s Indian head logo seem like it was mocking her. Her sunglasses cut the morning glare enough for her to stumble past the dumpster to the back door of the club from which she’d come. She slapped her hand against the bricks for balance, inadvertently placing her palm right in the middle of the “beware” in the “Beware Out-of-Towners”

message spray-painted on the wall.

She pushed past through the creaky, crooked door into the club, where the smell of smoke washed over her. The darkness, such a contrast to the dawn, nearly blinded her. Oh, right. Sunglasses off.

“Dick! ’she called.

“Jesus, Red, you don’t have to shout,” Dick answered from his post behind the bar. “Thought you’d gone. I’m just about to clear out the refuse.”

Trisha’s eyes adjusted to the light, seeing several people passed out on stage. They’d be in for a rude awakening. Dick wasn’t gentle, she knew by experience.

She made the universal gesture for a phone. “Need to make a call. Now.” She held up her beeper.

“Aren’t we important this morning.” But Dick slammed the club’s phone on top of the bar.

“Hell, yeah, I’m important. The paper can’t run without me,” she shot back, sliding onto the stool. She could ask for water, but who knew what was swimming in it. “How about a Coke?”

Dick rolled up his shirtsleeves, dug into the ice, and tossed her the can he’d found. She caught it with one hand. Jolt. Perfect.

“Nice reflexes after all that tequila,” Dick said.

“Thanks.” She searched her back pants pocket and dropped a five on the bar. It stuck to something. Not her problem. Let Dick peel it off.

She cursed as it took forever to dial the old rotary phone.

“Connell,” she announced as someone picked up.

“Trisha, sorry for taking up your day off—”

City Desk Editor Joe Wilson sounded crisp and businesslike and not the

least bit sorry. An alcohol-induced migraine, centered just above her left eye, made it hard to focus on his words.

“—but I need you to get to City Hall in the next hour, to cover a press conference about the new zoning regulations.”

“Zoning regulations?” It sounded worse when she repeated it. “Joe, I’m a crime reporter. Why am I covering zoning regulations? Put a stringer on it.”

“Cardoza wants it covered, which means a stringer won’t do, and Tony’s in court all day. We need someone who can write something catchy, not boring, about this.”

“Hell.” Cardoza, the publisher of the New York Herald. Joe’s boss.

Trisha cradled the phone in her ear and pulled out the little notebook and pencil she kept in the inside pocket of the black leather jacket. “Exact time. Which room at City Hall. Anything else you got.”

Joe rattled off the information, adding the names of the deputy mayor holding the press conference. Behind her, she heard Dick hauling the remnants of his customers to their feet.

“Got it,” she said. “Anything else?”

“Be aware of any undercurrents. Word is that this is just a money grab by developer friend of the deputy mayor. The rest of the reporters will ask polite questions. You won’t.”

A chance to harass a deputy mayor at City Hall? The assignment was looking up. Some water and aspirin, and she’d be able to focus.

“Oh, and be presentable, Trish. Cardoza is watching this story. He’ll hear if you roll up to the press conference looking like a punk.”

“He wants me to wear a dress, he can buy me a damn car. He wants me to get there on time, I need to use the Indian.”

“Look half-businesslike, at least. Don’t show up looking like one of the Ramones.”

“The Slits are the female punk band.” Trisha took inventory of her clothes. The blue jeans, faded T-shirt, leather jacket, and motorcycle boots weren’t even half-businesslike. Not to mention the smell from the whiskey someone had spilled on her.

Dammit, this was supposed to be her day off.

“Sure. No problem.”

“Every time you say that, there’s a problem. You’re not home, are you?”

A long pause followed, broken by one of Joe’s familiar long-suffering ‘what-the-hell-are-you-doing-with-your-life ’sighs. “Trisha, have you even been to bed?”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

“You know I’ve got no choice on this.”

That was as close as Joe would get to an apology for putting her in a

tough spot, “I know,” she said. “I’ll be there and get what you need.”

She hung up, fished a couple aspirin out of her inside pocket, brushed off the lint, and washed them down with the Jolt. She pulled out the Celtic cross she wore around her neck and kissed it, wondering how the hell she’d get presentable in an hour. She’d never make it to Midtown, then crosstown to her place in Hell’s Kitchen, and back to City Hall in time for the press conference.

She chugged the rest of the Jolt and dialed another number.

“Hey! Time’s up,” Dick called.

“Just a sec,” she called, putting her back to him. Dick might have

grabbed the phone out of her hand, but the kid stumbling out the front door threw up, drawing his attention.

David, be home, she thought. She was only five blocks from David’s place near the Village.

He answered. Score.

“Hey, I need a favor. I—”

“Hey, Trish, not in position for favors today.”

He shouted in Spanish. A horn sounded. Not his apartment. The call

must have been forwarded to his car phone.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Ah, the damned museum exhibit. It’s been a pain in the ass since day

one. Now there’s some minor deal about the alarm and Grayson’s being fussy about it, so I got dragged out of bed to check it out.”

“You sure everything’s okay?”

Dick slopped a mop at the mess on the floor. She figured she had sixty seconds before he cut off her call.

“It’s fine. Like I said, it’s probably Grayson overreacting.” David shouted again at the other drivers, this time in English. “Look, Trish, what did you want, anyway?”

“I need to get a change of clothes from your place. Is the coast clear?” David’s fiancée wasn’t her biggest fan.

The sound of squealing tires echoed in the background. “Yep, Darlene’s at her mother’s place this week, studying. Take whatever you need,” he said.

“Thanks. Be careful out there, okay?”

“Always am, unlike you,” he said. “Wait, Trish, you’re not in trouble, are you?”

“Not yet. But it’s early.”

“You be careful then, too. Later.”

She hung up, yelled thanks to Dick, received a grumble in response,

and slipped out the back door again.

This could work. If her memory served, David had a blazer she could borrow that would be suitable over one of his T-shirts. Not strictly businesslike but, hey, Miami Vice style jackets with T-shirts were all the rage now. She might even have time for a shower there.

Waitaminute.

She hadn’t concentrated on what David said because she’d been worried about her own problems. But he’d said his boss rousted him out of bed to answer a possible alarm at the museum. David’s security firm had installed a sophisticated system to protect a high-profile art exhibit at the Museum of Historic Arts. Several anonymous threats had been made against that exhibit, which contained artwork once lost in World War II. (Presumably, the museum had bought the art from Nazis or their heirs.)

An alarm might mean a break-in and that would equal a big story, espe- cially given the Nazi connection. A story that would beat the hell out of some press conference about mind-numbing zoning regulations, even if the developers were paying off the deputy mayor.

Political corruption equaled business as usual.

Nazis and a museum art theft on the other hand? That was a juicy story. An above-the-fold headline story.

Option one: take the sure thing, file the required story, and get in good with Cardoza.

Option Two: Disobey a direct order on a hunch that, if it fizzled, would get her fired.

Her hand hovered over the scars carved into her midsection. Following the rules had never gained her a damn thing. She jerked the gloves out of her jacket and shoved her hands into them, using her boot heel to push the kickstand up.

A bald guy dressed in skinny black jeans and the remains of a T-shirt stumbled into the alley. His eyes widened.

“Well, hey, sweetheart,” he drawled. “You are a damn fine sight this morning.”

Skinhead. Thrash metal dude. The club had been full of them last night, even though the band had been pure three-cord punk. But hardcore fought to replace it. Gah. Another great scene lost.

“Buzz off,” she said.

He stumbled closer, aiming to cut her off. “Aw, c’mon, I saw you in there, redhead, fooling around. Give us a kiss to celebrate the morning.”

With a flick of her wrist, the switchblade appeared in her hand. Another flick, and the blade opened. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

“Shit.” He scrambled backwards. “Jesus, bitch,” he said as he vanished around the corner.

Bitch is right, she thought, as she closed the switchblade and dumped it back into a pocket.

The Indian roared to life, echoing in the alley. Trisha burned rubber as she turned and accelerated onto the street.

 

Author Bio:

Corrina is a writer, mom, geek and occasional superhero. She’s a former newspaper reporter with a degree in journalism from Boston University, she works from home writing romance novels with a geeky twist and as the Content Director of GeekMom.com.

Her novels include The Curse of the Brimstone Contract, a romantic steampunk mystery; the award-winning and USA Today-recognized superhero romance series, the Phoenix Institute, which includes: Phoenix Rising, Luminous, Phoenix Legacy, Ghost Phoenix, Ghosts of Christmas Past, and Phoenix Inheritance; and the erotic Freya’s Gift, a tale of Vikings in North America and a fertility ritual.

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