It’s a Ménage-iversary!

SPOILER ALERT! If you haven’t read Wholly Trinity yet and want to keep your experience spoiler-free, then stop now and go read some funny comics at The Oatmeal instead.

WT_cover_2Okay, if you’re still reading, then please join me in celebrating Beth, Paul and John’s wedding anniversary! Take a stroll down memory lane with this snippet…

John had been barking commands for nearly fifteen minutes when Beth heard another familiar voice at the front door call out, “Anybody home?”

Monica shot her a surprised look through the mirror. Beth’s own heart tensed to hear Paul’s playful tone—over an hour earlier than expected— and braced for the fallout.

“What are you doing here!?” John yelled from kitchen, practically on cue.

“Heard there’s a wedding goin’ on.” Beth visualized Paul’s deadpan shrug. “Thought I’d check it out.”

“Dammit, Paul, today? Of all days?” John bit, his frustration audible.

Especially today of all days, John,” Paul countered. “Christ, it’s not like you don’t know how I operate by this point.”

John huffed a low growl, unappeased.

“If you really loved me, you’d let me have my pathetic little coping mechanisms,” Paul parried, still standing in the foyer, if she judged the sound correctly. The hint of nervous sincerity made her wonder if he was being sarcastic. Was he having second thoughts? Cold feet?

“As long as you realize they’re pathetic,” John grumbled, and Beth heard forgiveness in his tone. “Go upstairs, then, and stay there. I’ll be in the backyard.”

Paul made the expected begrudging noises of cooperation, dutifully tromping up the stairwell and slamming a door, muttering mild threats and invective the whole way. In an equally immature and undignified manner, John huffed and bustled his way out the door once the path was clear.

Less than three minutes later, Beth wasn’t terribly surprised when Paul slipped into the closet. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Beth’s heart warmed to see him, smiling and in a good mood. At least you’re hereand not panicked, off in the middle of some desert.

Monica placed the final pin in Beth’s hair. “You’re as bad as my three-year-old,” she tsked.

Paul offered a wry smile. “Flattery like that is what makes all the hard work worthwhile.”

Beth smiled despite her better judgment, knowing it would only encourage worse. “He’s gonna wring your neck, then mine, if he catches you in here.”

Paul planted a kiss on her cheek. “You and I both know mine alone will suffice.”

“Can’t you just humor him today?” Beth pleaded. Though I could say the same to John, she admitted.

“All this wedding day superstition is utter bullshit. Plus, flouting Groomzilla’s stupid wedding rules is kinda my new thing…”

Wholly Trinity is available in ebook and paperback formats on Amazon.

Portents’ Book-iversary!

portents_cover8-page-0This month I’ll celebrate the 2nd anniversary of Portents‘ release. Amanda Ryder is one of my favorite heroines: young, smart, and snarky. I sure love doing all the research about ESP and quantum physics that has gone into her series. If you’re interested in paranormal suspense without those pesky vampires or werewolves, I hope you’ll give Amanda’s stories a try! Here’s a snippet of Portents, book 2 in the Amanda Ryder, V.I. series, to whet your appetite…

In a lightning move, Eric leveled a .45 at the intruder. “I strongly suggest you turn around and go back to wherever the hell you came from.”

The beast of a man shook his head and sneered. “If you think I’m leaving without her, you’re an idiot.”

Amanda’s heart seized. The brute’s East Coast accent wasn’t the same one that had lured her here over the phone. Damn!

Eric didn’t flinch. “If you think I’ll let her go, you’re dead.”

“Tell your clingy boyfriend he’s about to pay for his caveman attitude with his life,” the man growled.

Amanda fingered the hilt of the knife she’d pilfered from the kitchen, easing it out of her sleeve. Whoever he was, she decided Nash must’ve sent him. She took a slow, cautious step toward the guy, away from Eric. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Like I give a shit,” the creature grunted. “Get rid of him. Now. Or I will.”

She tore her eyes from him to look at Eric. “I’ve made my decision.” Whatever dreams she had of belonging to the Academy were just that: dreams. Not reality. It’s for the best, she added mentally. Trust me and just go.

But Eric shook his head. “She’s not making a fully informed decision.”

Fury singed through her like a pyrotechnic flare. He thought she was stupid?

“Don’t give a fuck what you think,” the man retorted. “She’s comin’ with me.”

“And I say she isn’t,” Eric countered.

Hearing them fight over her like she was the last slice of meatloaf on the table brought to mind her father, how he used to snap at her mother for all his daughter’s many failings. Her father, who thought education was wasted on a female mind like hers. Her father, who believed every awful thing imaginable about her. Her father, who contemplated killing his own flesh and blood, but mercifully threw her out of the house instead on her eighteenth birthday.

“You sure this job is worth dyin’ for?” Eric taunted.

But his voice was drowned out, as was the man’s response, by an emotional dam breaking within Amanda. Her fury gushed forth, finally free of the repressive wall she’d built within her, the one that had kept her safe in her father’s house. Amanda’s skin cracked and itched like a dry winter’s morning as she seethed, riding the crest of this new wave of ire. It lifted her, bearing her upwards like a geyser releasing.

How dare they? she screamed in her mind, her breath coming in lung-jarring gasps. No one else was the master of her fate. She decided what happened to her, dammit!

“Stop this,” Amanda hissed in warning.

Both men glanced at her, then did a double take.

The stranger narrowed his eyes in a suspicious scowl. “The fuck?”

Eric’s eyes widened. “Um, Amanda?” he muttered tentatively. “You okay?”

“I will do… whatever the hell… I want to do,” she snarled. “It’s my choice. Not yours!”

“What is this shit?” the man demanded, a note of fear coloring his voice.

“Amanda? Buddy?” Eric tried coaxing, his attention fully on her. He lowered his weapon and took a step closer. “I need you to try to calm down now, okay?”

“Back off, loverboy,” the man barked, jabbing his gun in Eric’s direction.

Heat boiled off her, to the point she imagined waves of it distorting her vision, altering her perception of the room. Fear suddenly gripped her. She had no idea how to rein in all this powerful anger. Like a Pandora’s box of ire, the wildfire was out of control.

“Stay back,” Amanda begged, her nervous system in full rebellion.

Eric spread his hands in supplication. “It’s okay, Amanda,” he soothed. “You’re not in danger,” he lied.

But that only made her angrier. This was so clearly not okay. She’d leaped off the cliff of okay and was hurtling toward seriously fucked up at breakneck speed…

Portents is available in ebook and paperback formats on Amazon.