Thank you to all my new "Google+" followers. I enjoy your funny posts, inspirational quotes, and book reviews, and appreciate being included in sharing your photos of children and pets.
Over the holidays, since "Magic Moment" was new to them, several people asked about the book ("thank you" for your interest). I thought I'd use this week to post a blurb and two excerpts.
When the FBI brings Laura Roberts - a quiet, reserved bookkeeper - in for questioning regarding activities at the warehouse where she works, an uneasy Laura resigns her job - only to be attacked by thugs.
Chase Donovan intends to spend a few peaceful days on his boat getting his head together - and finds a woman being assaulted by two men who say his father told them to do it.Chase doesn’t want to believe his father could hurt anyone. Laura doesn’t understand why she’s a target. Can they learn to work together to discover the truth - before someone dies?
and Laura, traveling by his boat, are on the run from the men who kidnapped and
tried to kill her.
Dusk skimmed the sky. Having glided Madre into the marina, Chase aimed for an empty spot along the dock.
“You slept all day. I thought you planned on sleeping all the way to the Chesapeake.” He focused on maneuvering Madre between two set boats.
“I did get up for a little while. You were asleep in the kitchen, so I went back to bed."
“Galley,” he corrected.
“Galley,” he corrected.
“What galley?”“On a boat, it’s not a kitchen but a galley,” he replied with an easy smile. “If you’re gonna be a sailor, you have to know these things.”
“Gotcha.” Her lips twitched and she returned his grin.She looked cozy wearing his sweats. The swelling around her eye area had eased, but the heavy bruises showed more profoundly.
Physically, Chase had always thought Laura a knockout. She generally wore her blond hair loose and flowing. Her green eyes kind of gleamed whenever she smiled. Their working environment was casual, yet Laura always wore a dress. Chase never seemed to mind. The woman had one fine set of legs and he had a hellva good time watching those limbs whenever she walked from her desk to the photocopier. They never talked much unless conversation was about the warehouse or the weather. Chase didn’t encourage otherwise. If he did, and decided her personality matched her looks, he might forget his rule about not dating women who worked for his father.
Laura hopped on the bar stool and waited while the laptop hummed. She had heard the stories, mostly from Rachel, of Chase Donovan’s revolving door of women, his gambling nights in Atlantic City, his “good-time-Charlie” persona. She already knew he didn’t really have a job, unless one called taking customers and suppliers to dinner a job. Many times he sat at his desk feigning a business task while merely scanning the internet. This was a man in his thirties who basically made a career of not having a career at all.
Who would have guessed he had wanted to be an attorney to help others? Who would have guessed he even was an attorney? Or that his eyes would get misty when he talked about a repulsive individual beating a defenseless horse? A few weeks ago, Laura would have imagined Chase’s only link to homeless people had been a monetary donation for a tax deduction. Like his late mother before him, he bought these unfortunate souls coffee.
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