The Boss Prince Book Tour and Giveaway
July 16, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as #RABTBookTours, Alix Nichols, Excerpts, romantic comedy, romantic suspense, Royal Romance
Romantic Comedy, Royal Romance, Romantic Suspense
Date Published: July 9, 2021
What if your boss was a prince?…
The week I got fired, I landed a government job in Paris.
Go, Lucie!
The bad news? My boss, Max Delaroche, looks like a remastered Greek god, as dazzling as the alarm in my head.
Whoop, whoop, whoop! Run while you can!
But the man intrigues me.
Wildly charismatic, he has no office savvy. He skips important staff meetings because they bore him to death. He won’t even say where he’s from!
Instead, he keeps staring at me like he’s on a treasure hunt and I have the map.
Who is this guy, and what exactly does he do here?
Could he be an undercover cop investigating government agencies?
Haha. I’m très hilarious.
If a cop can afford bespoke suits, then I’m a princess. You shall call me Your Royal Highness, Lucie la Magnifique!
Looking for a romantic comedy that’s laugh-out-loud funny, steamy, and full of thrills? Look no further than The Boss Prince, book 1 in Alix Nichols’s new IT’S RAINING ROYALS series!
About the Author
Alix Nichols is a caffeine addict, a fan of Mr. Darcy and an award-winning author. She pens sexy romantic comedies and sci-fi romances that “keep you hanging off the edge of your seat” (RT Book Reviews). At the age of six, she released her first book. It featured highly creative spelling on a dozen pages stitched together and bound in velvet paper. Decades later, she still writes. Her spelling has improved (somewhat). Currently she has one complete romance series “wide” and three in Kindle Unlimited. She lives in France with her family, including an almost-human dog.
**To read a rom-com and a sci-fi novelette FREE, visit: alixnichols.com/freebies (just copy and paste into your browser).**
Contact Links
Purchase Link
Excerpt
The Boss Prince
Alix Nichols
From Chapter 1
She opens her reticule, whips out her smartphone, and pulls up what looks like a still frame from some CCTV footage.
To my quizzical look, she says, “Watch,” and taps Play.
A young woman stalks out of an ugly concrete building, banging the door behind her. About twenty meters down the street, she halts, spins around and barrels back toward the building. Baying, “You, jerk! You, miserable nincompoop!” she kicks the graffitied wall. Way too hard, by the looks of it. With a grimace of pain distorting her reddened face, she grabs the foot that had connected with the wall and spends the next few seconds stroking it through the flimsy sneaker while jumping on her other foot.
“You think you hurt me?” she yells at the closed door, still wincing. “You think you broke my heart? I despise you!”
Whoever is inside doesn’t respond in any audible or visible manner.
“I believed in you!” the woman shouts, letting go of her foot. “I thought you were a good person, a decent man. I thought you could handle criticism. But you’re just another douchebag!”
Balling her hands into fists, she swings as if intending to punch the door, hesitates and glances at her knuckles. It’s a low-res video but good enough to determine that it’s a security door, steel most likely. In her place, I’d be having second thoughts about punching it, too.
“Grrr!” Shaking with frustration, she kicks the door instead.
Perhaps because she’d braced herself for impact, she seems to better control the resulting pain, which emboldens her to kick again, and again until she does it at an angle too awkward to keep her balance. She lands on her bum. Cursing, she gets up and gives the door a few more angry kicks.
The “douchebag” inside makes no perceptible move.
Despite the wild inappropriateness and the involuntarily comical effect of her public display, I find myself sympathizing with this crazy chick. Which is weird, because, having broken up with my fair share of ladies, I should relate more to the man she’s besieging than to her. Yet, instead of cringing, I’m smiling at her spunk.
Also, I’m ogling her slender, perfectly proportioned figure that cancels out her ridiculous actions and dull outfit. Those lovely, firm tits give her worn, badly cut tee a shot at glory. As for that round high-perched ass, it lifts her trashy jeans all the way to the Cannes red carpet.
It’s hard to make out the individual features of her face, but the overall form of her face framed by wavy glossy hair looks exceedingly pleasing.
The video ends.
Mystic Invisible Book Tour and Giveaway
June 4, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as #RABTBookTours, Booktour, Fantansy, Ryder Hunte Clancy, young adult
Date Published: 3/17/21
Publisher: Winter Goose Publishing
Fifteen-year-old Monte moves to the mystically jeopardized Highlands of Scotland and discovers that life as a Celtic wizard is anything but easy. Whisperings of abnormal enchantments and vicious cat siths grip the small town he now calls home. Fear is at the helm and the instigator is unknown. An indefinite moratorium on magic is enforced. In a race against darkness, Monte and his friends must choose who to trust before time runs out, even if it means breaking some rules and facing danger head on.
About The Author
Ryder Hunte Clancy has lived most of her life in the desert but her heart belongs to the sea; her happy place, where brine and mist abound and allusive waves caress expansive stretches of compacted sand. A tried and true stay-at-home mom, she is often found scribbling notes between diaper changes or connecting plot points while everyone else sleeps. She survives off of toddler snacks like apple slices and cheese, and has just as much trouble keeping up with her fictional, teenage characters as she does her three small children. Mystic Invisible is her debut novel, the inspiration of which was gleaned from her husband’s homeland of Scotland, where fantasy, mystery, and folklore are rich and hits of adventure linger around every corner.
Excerpt
Mystic Invisible
Ryder Hunte Clancy
“Besides,” Garrick continued. “What else am I supposed to do? There’s not a lot of potential to
make hard and fast friends here, seeing as we’re the only Mystics around.”
“You could play with those madger thingies,” Monte suggested, as though he were the big
brother, not Garrick. He squinted at the line of firs across the field.
“And when would I ever need night-vision goggles?” Garrick asked. “That’s all they are.
They’re rudimentary.”
“Rudimentary?” Monte could never keep up with Garrick’s fancy words.
“Primal . . . basic . . . old,” Garrick rattled off.
His rant was interrupted by a loud whoop. The shout crossed through the field—a teenage battle
call—as a pale, springy kid scurried out from the firs.
“Finn?” Monte asked. “It’s Finn Cornelius!”
Finn sprung through the jungle of grass like a nymph, fear plastered across his face, pursued by a
posse of very large high school-aged boys.
“Hey!” Garrick tore toward the group. “Get away from him!”
Monte raced after his brother. A dark blur flashed in his peripheries, knocking him to the ground.
Dull lights, like distant stars, mottled his vision as he tumbled to a stop in the muddy grass. A
girl with scraggly black hair and bronzy skin stood above him. “Cameron?” He scrambled to his
Feet.
Cameron’s stare met his, her caramel eyes familiar and intense. The rainbow lights hung around
her neck, much dimmer than Monte remembered.
My Story and the Journey to Eye See
RYDER HUNTE CLANCY
For the dream seekers,
The downtrodden,
The courageous champions of good cause.
For the quirky and the quelled,
The unseen genius and
The undiscovered voice.
For the loud but unheard,
The soft and tender hearted.
For the quiet and devoted.
For the wallflowers,
The late bloomers,
Those ugly ducklings, now swans.
For the invisible ones.
I see you,
I hear you,
And I believe.
We are the change.
I recently had the opportunity to give my website a makeover. In doing so, it gave me the
opportunity to pen the above mission statement. This is what I live by. It’s what I march to
every day, rain or shine. It’s what I believe; from my calloused, keyboard-typing fingers, to the
very nucleus of my being. Everyone has a voice that should be heard, most especially those who
don’t believe they do. I used to be one of those people. I was more than just a wallflower. I was
invisible; so timid and “ordinary” that I was easily overlooked. But I always craved to be heard. I
tried many things to satiate that big, booming urge inside of me. However, it wasn’t until well
into adulthood that the anvil finally dropped. With a baby on my lap and a toddler at my feet, I
picked up a pen and started writing. The rest was history. I’m still quiet by nature but I have
finally found my voice, and so can you!
-Ryder
2 0 Read moreManflu Book Tour, Excerpt, and Guest Post
April 16, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as #RABTBookTours, @PublishingAcorn, excerpt, Manflu, pandemic, Simone de Muñoz, thrillers
Date Published: 3/26/21
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
Purchase Links
Following a global pandemic, which has either killed or weakened most of the male population, women now dominate all aspects of life.
Dr. Morgan Digby, married to a man rendered bedbound from his bout with manflu a decade prior, is working tirelessly on a vaccine, yet obstacles keep springing up in her path.
When she meets a handsome neighbor who has never been exposed to the deadly virus, things become…complicated. There’s something between them, but he can’t leave his home.
Morgan’s struggle to remain faithful to her ailing husband isn’t her only battle. Someone has been one step ahead of her, countering her every move. Will she find a vaccine before it’s too late to protect those she loves?
About the Author
Simone de Muñoz writes dystopian, or perhaps utopian, fiction, depending on your perspective, where women drive the story and sometimes even run the world. She holds a master’s degree in public policy from UC Berkeley and a bachelor’s degree in economics from MIT, which she uses in her day job as a data analyst at a nonprofit. Based in Silicon Valley, she lives with her patient husband, their two young sons, and a grumpy dog named Fish. Manflu is her debut novel.
Contact Links
Excerpt
Manflu
Simone de Muñoz
Morgan Digby woke up groggy from her usual nap as her self-driving, electric car pulled into the driveway of her small suburban house. She had dreamt that her husband Jonas was walking toward her on a crowded sidewalk, cradling a baby in his arms. If only any small part of that dream had the remotest possibility of coming true, Morgan could be happy.
She stretched and brushed her black bangs out of her eyes, feeling the hollow spaces beneath them with her fingertips. Tired from a busy day working at the lab on the manflu vaccine, the nap prepared her for the long evening of caretaking that lay ahead. Her husband Jonas was mostly bedridden after his bout with the pandemic ten years ago. His body no longer actively fought an infection, but he would never be the same.
Morgan was about to enter her house when she saw her neighbor put down her garden rake and cross the street to chat. Sarah, like many women nowadays, no longer bothered with a bra. Her full, bouncing breasts, barely covered by a thin, V-neck t-shirt, drew the eye. An image quickly flashed through Morgan’s mind of a time years before when Sarah had pressed those breasts against her and leaned over to kiss her on the lips. Morgan quickly shook her head to clear the thought.
“Morgan, big news!” said Sarah when she was within gossip range. “Beth’s nephew came to stay with her. He’s a Vulny. I got a glimpse of him through the curtains, and he is a hunk and a half. Pale, obviously. About 5’10” with black, curly hair and surprisingly muscular. He must spend a lot of time lifting weights. I’m charging my vibro3000 as we speak.”
Wow, a Vulny! Morgan had never seen one before. Vulnies were the men who had never gotten manflu and were therefore still vulnerable to it. These men could not go out in public for fear of being infected, thus the pale skin. Women could be infected as well as transmit the virus to others; however, they experienced very mild cold-like symptoms and quickly recovered. Both men and women who had previously been infected could not contract the virus again; however, men with post-manflu viral syndrome were immunocompromised and at high risk of contracting other infections.
Morgan immediately thought of the vaccine she was working on, and she wondered if this man could be a test subject for it when it was completed. She wanted to rush over to Beth’s house right away to meet him and find out more, but she couldn’t. Jonas waited inside for her to make his dinner, bathe him, and keep him company. She was accustomed to putting aside her own desires to care for her husband, but she still felt a sting of disappointment each time.
Guest post
The Story Behind Manflu
(Or How I Wrote About a Fictional Pandemic During a Real-life Pandemic)
Simone de Muñoz
Author of Manflu
March 16, 2021
Acorn Publishing
After the 2016 election, I felt an emotion that I had never felt before–rage. It was scary. I had to find a safe place for those feelings, so I started to write. In my fiction, women weren’t the victims of misogynistic men and a patriarchal society–they were powerful heroes. If women couldn’t come out on top in real life, they could in my fiction. I slowly thought about sharing my writing with the world–maybe other women could read my work and feel the possibility of this power.
I had the idea for my novel, Manflu in the summer of 2019. The “Me Too” movement was in full swing and I thought, what if there was a way to get these men out of power and replace them with women? What would the world look like if women were in charge? I came up with the idea of a pandemic that weakened or killed men. I started writing down my thoughts, centering the story around a married researcher seeking a vaccine for manflu when she meets a handsome neighbor who has never been infected. And only a few short months later, Covid hit!
I attended my first writing conference in February of 2020 right before the US basically shut down. I met the women who would eventually publish my book at that conference and I remember them saying, “This concept is so timely, you have to get the book written as soon as possible.” We had no idea what was coming because there were hardly any known cases of Covid in the US at that time. However, it was clear that the pandemic was about to affect us all. Despite a full-time job and family obligations, I wrote as quickly as I could to take advantage of the moment.
I found myself in the midst of a pandemic, writing about a pandemic. For a while, all I thought about were viruses as I researched pandemics, tried to keep my family safe from Covid, and worked to help clients affected economically by the pandemic at my nonprofit job. I finished writing the book in the fall of 2020, right around the time it became clear that my children wouldn’t return to in-person school for the 2020-21 school year.
My hope is that I have ultimately created a novel that is timely, and yet a break from the pandemic-restricted world that we are all still living in right now, and that Manflu helps to empower women to dream of a different society where they are in charge. It is always a good time for sexy, escapist fiction featuring diverse characters and a strong female lead and it is an especially apt moment for Manflu.
Purchase Links
Snow Dust and Boneshine Book Tour and Excerpt
April 8, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as #RABTBookTours, Grendolyn Peach Soleil, Historical Fantasy, Magical realism, Paranormal Romance, Snow Dust and Boneshine
The Chronicles of Granny Witch (Book 1)
Paranormal Romance, Historical Fantasy,
Magical Realism, Visionary Fiction
Date Published: December 27, 2020
Once upon a winter’s night, a lost cowboy finds himself in Purgatory Bend.
Patrick Doolin is plagued by a wound that won’t heal, but winter is the
season of miracles. As Patrick wanders through Wyoming, he meets Fawna
Darling, the mysterious granny witch, who channels the folk magic of her
ancestors.
With nowhere to go and a secret Patrick doesn’t yet understand, he seeks
shelter with Fawna in the snowswept prairie. Forbidden to fall in love, they
form an eternal bond in the dreamscape, but when the bluebirds sing of
summer and threaten their empire of dreams, they are faced with an
impossible decision. Will Patrick stay in the land of the living, or will he
cross over the prairie?
Summer is the season of surprises, and Fawna’s childhood sweetheart, Dezi
Ketchum, longs to win her heart too. When winter melts across the gold-slick
prairie, Fawna searches for answers under the rose moon. Caught between fire
and water and flesh and fantasy, she follows her heart and ventures into
uncharted territory.
Praise for Snow Dust and Boneshine
“A warm and spellbinding tale…Soleil’s writing flows like a stream,
relaxing and exotic. Mixed with folk magic, simpler times and beliefs, this
is a wonderful escape.” ~ Tome Tender
“Soleil’s writing is riveting…It’s much more than a fantasy – it’s a
story of love and faith.” ~ Literary Titan
“Curl up under your blanket, grab a cup of tea, and let yourself wander
between magic and reality in Purgatory Bend…Snow Dust and Boneshine is one
of the sweetest, selfless, heartbreaking but also heartwarming love stories
I have ever read…The characters, the atmosphere, and the imagery are done
so beautifully. Every description made me sink my teeth into the story just
a little bit more.” ~ Snez at Book Lifey & A Quintillion Reads Book
Club
“Snow Dust and Boneshine was incredible…There’s romance, intrigue and lots
of magic. It’s very well written, so much so, I could feel the cold and
bitter wind as I read about it. The characters are beautifully written, and
I could see it playing out as a movie as I read. I highly recommend picking
this one up. 5 stars all the way.” ~ Angela Scavone, Author of Celebrity
Status
“This story was magical and fascinating with an element of surprise. It was
well-researched and beautifully thought out to bring us so many amazing
details. If witches and love stories set in a small town with a sprinkle of
magic interests you, I would urge you to read this.” ~ Kriti Dalmia at This
Reader Girl
About the Author
Grendolyn Peach Soleil was born in the Appalachian Mountains on a full
moon. She is an old soul and a folk magic fiend. Grendolyn loves twisted
fairy tales, all things vintage, tales of true love, and creature features.
Some of her fancies include pumpkins, black cats, mermaids, tea parties,
cowboys, dahlias, and sunsets. She is a member of the Visionary Fiction
Alliance and The Independent Author Network. Grendolyn is the author of
Limbo Jubilee, The Mermaids Melt at Dawn, and Snow Dust and Boneshine: The Chronicles of Granny Witch (Book 1).
Contact Links
Purchase Link
Excerpt
Snow Dust and Boneshine
Grendolyn Peach Soleil
Prologue: Angel Creek
Wolf Moon, 1854
Patrick Doolin hid behind a sunbaked boulder, his bare ribs sticking to the sagebrush. He grabbed the wet, mushy hole in his belly, his heart pounding, his ears ringing raw. Around the bend, there were howling beasts in the canyon, sniffing his blood trail. Trapped in the crossfire, he closed his eyes and pretended it was all a bad dream. He cloaked himself in a cloud of dust and prayed for invisibility. Patrick didn’t know whether to beg for his life or submit to death’s sting, but instinctively, his body forced him to gasp for air.
From the moment he boarded the ship last summer, he regretted leaving Ireland. He missed the sheep-strewn pastures and the soggy sea cliffs. He missed the rolling fog and the taste of coddle by firelight. By the grace of God, Patrick survived the great hunger, and despite its brutal aftermath, he still yearned for his motherland, for fairy trees and cloud cover. It was better to be hungry at home than stuffed to the gills with strangers.
Patrick’s father suffered the most during the great hunger, so when a fever ravaged him last February, he was too weak to recover. Although Patrick bowed his head and prayed every morning, his father was skin and bones by Easter. Worst of all, his father’s spirit was troubled by Patrick’s black-hearted brother, Liam, so Patrick made a deathbed promise to his father. He vowed to look after Liam come hell or high water.
As soon as their father rattled his last breath, Liam set his sights on California. After the wake, the Doolin brothers boarded a ship to Philadelphia. From there, they made the long trek to Dakota territory. It took them three months to reach their uncle’s homestead, and by the time they arrived, old man winter was already there. The Doolin brothers agreed to work for their uncle until the following summer and then make their way to California, but after Christmas, Liam didn’t want to wait any longer.
Patrick knew they were late to the gold rush. Their uncle showed them the newspapers and implored them to stay in Dakota. He said it was treacherous to travel in the dead of winter, but there was no reasoning with Liam, so the Doolin brothers saddled up and battled the pelting ice and blowing snow. They slept under giant fir trees, their fingers and toes tingling with frostbite. They hadn’t been on the trail for long when Liam started a gunfight with a goliath of a cowboy, then disappeared into thin air.
Now, Patrick was all by himself, stranded somewhere between Dakota and Wyoming. Utterly disoriented, he clutched his belly in agony and stumbled through the wilderness. He meditated on the pine trees as they swirled into a blur of whistling green. Patrick saw trains and ships in the shadows. He saw the sea cliffs of Ireland in his dreams. When he couldn’t take another step, he collapsed on the edge of Angel Creek, his wounded body glinting red with sunburn, his sticky blood mingling with the cold stream.
As he faded in and out of mortality, he saw a young woman with hair as black as a raven. A pack of wolves surrounded her and swaddled her porcelain skin with their ashen fur. Patrick couldn’t get a good look at her face, but he caught a glimpse of her scarlet lips. She was nothing more than a stranger to him, but he took comfort in watching her dance through the shimmering snowfields. As he stood there in the frozen prairie, held captive by the bone-chilling wind, he felt strangely warm as though a hearth was glowing inside him.
The next morning, an old cowboy named Charlie was fishing for salmon when he came across Patrick’s body floating belly-up in the creek. Charlie took Patrick for dead, but as he got closer, he witnessed pulse and breath. Charlie rubbed his eyes in disbelief. He figured there was a reason this poor man was still alive, so he slung Patrick over his shoulder and lugged him for half a mile, dabbing his sweaty face with a red bandana. When he got back to his wagon, he plopped Patrick down next to the salmon and gave him a ride to Purgatory Bend.
A Deadly Inside Scoop Book Tour and Excerpt
February 24, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as #RABTBookTours, A Deadly Inside Scoop, Abby Collette, Cozy mystery, excerpt
Cozy Mystery
Date Published: May 12, 2020
Recent MBA grad Bronwyn Crewse has just taken over her family’s ice cream shop in Chagrin Falls, Ohio, and she’s going back to basics. Win is renovating Crewse Creamery to restore its former glory, and filling the menu with delicious, homemade ice cream flavors—many from her grandmother’s original recipes. But unexpected construction delays mean she misses the summer season, and the shop has a literal cold opening: the day she opens her doors an early first snow descends on the village and keeps the customers away.
To make matters worse, that evening, Win finds a body in the snow, and it turns out the dead man was a grifter with an old feud with the Crewse family. Soon, Win’s father is implicated in his death. It’s not easy to juggle a new-to-her business while solving a crime, but Win is determined to do it. With the help of her quirky best friends and her tight-knit family, she’ll catch the ice cold killer before she has a meltdown…
About the Author
Abby L. Vandiver, also writing as Abby Collette, is a hybrid author who has penned more than twenty-five books and short stories. She has hit both the Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestseller list. Her latest cozy series, An Ice Cream Parlor Mystery, published by Penguin Berkley, is out now, with the second book, A Game of Thrones, coming in March 2021.
Contact Links
Purchase Links
Excerpt
A Deadly Inside Scoop
Abby L. Vandiver
Flashing red and blue lights lit up the dark, dreary corner where North Main and Bell streets met. Yellow crime scene tape draped around trees cordoned off the perimeter of the wooden overlook. Floodlights invaded the stillness that surround the falls and voices bombarded my eardrums. I was numb, but not from the cold.
I had panicked once I realized I’d tripped over a body. Not a panic borne from fear, it was because I didn’t know how I could help. What to do. Blowing out a breath, I had to calm myself so I could figure it out.
It was dark and I hadn’t been able to see clearly enough to make a decision. Had the person still been alive? Should I try to start some life saving measures?
Not that I knew any . . .
Should I go get help?
The body hadn’t moved, even after me falling over it.
Not a grunt. Not a moan. Not a whimper.
Feeling with my hands in the dark, I found a face. I leaned in, my face close, to see if I could feel a breath.
Nothing.
I laid my head on its chest to listen for a heartbeat.
Still nothing.
I should call for help.
Crap. I’d left my cellphone in my knapsack, sitting on the prep table in the ice cream shop. All I had was my aluminum bowl and scoop, so I started banging them together.
“Help!” I yelled out and hit the scoop on the side of the bowl. “Hey! I need help! Anybody! Somebody help me!”
But all my noise making hadn’t gotten one response. I looked down at the silhouette of Dead Guy and back up to the street. No lights from passing cars. No footsteps crunching in the snow.
I needed to get up the hill to get help.
But the snow was thick and cumbersome, I trudged up at a slow crawl. My foot sinking into the snow with each step forward, my gloves wet and covered with the powder. It seemed to be deeper and heavier the more I tried to get up to the sidewalk. Bent over, hands clawing in the snow up the incline, I was out of breath with heavy legs by the time I made it to the top. Once my feet were planted on the sidewalk, I had to place my hands on my knees to catch my breath and slow my heart before I could go any further.
With what I knew lay at the bottom of the falls, it made the night more ominous. The streets more deserted. The lights more dim.
I looked one way down Bell Street then the other. Not quite sure where I should go to get help. I just knew that I wanted to tell what I knew. Get someone else there with me. Then my eye caught sight of the woven scarf I’d seen on the kid who’d been down the hill with me. With Dead Guy.
I started to grab the scarf but thought better of it. People always come back to where they’d lost their things to find them. The little boy might return. Maybe I’d report the lost item to the police.
The police . . .
I had to call the police. Or an ambulance.
I scurried around the block, past the front of the ice cream shop to the side door and unlocked it. I hastily dumped the contents of my knapsack and had to catch Grandma Kay’s tin recipe box as it tumbled out before it dropped onto the floor. Hands slightly shaky, still breathing hard, I found my phone and pushed in the three numbers.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
I had to make a restroom pit stop to try to collect myself.
I shook my head. There hadn’t been anything I could have done. He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t made a sound. He wasn’t breathing and I didn’t know how long it would be before someone came along to help.
I ran warm water over my hands at the sink, dried them off and started to head back into the kitchen to get my knapsack, and ran right into Felice.
“Hello there, Muffintop, I said and stooped down, running my fingers through her white coat. “How did you get down here?” She looked up at me, fluffed out the end of her tail, then eyes half-closed, she blinked slowly. I picked her up. “You want some kisses, Sweetie?” I said knowing it was me that needed comforting. She rubbed her cheek up against mine. “Thank you.”
Holding her, I walked around to the back area where the stairs led to Rivkah’s apartment, and called up. No answer. “She must still be at the restaurant.” I looked at Felice. “Did you just come down for me? To make me feel better?”
“Mrra,” she said.
I met her forehead with mine, but only for a moment, she didn’t have to be gracious. She jumped out of arms and ran up the steps. I watched as she strutted up, I didn’t know how she’d gotten out. Rivkah never left the door unlocked.
Tonight I was glad she had.
I went over to the prep table and stuffed everything back into my bag, grabbed the bowl and scooper and headed back outside. By the time I got out there, a police cruiser was pulling up in front of the store. The officer got out of the car and walked over to me.
“Are you the person who called 911?” he asked.
“I am,” I said.
“What’s going on?”
I pointed toward the falls. “There’s a guy down there. I think he’s dead.”
Featured Books
IN TWILIGHT’S HUSH (A GABRIEL MCRAY NOVEL BOOK 4)
Detective Gabriel McRay investigates a cold case from 1988 involving a missing teenager named Nancy Lewicki.
More info →
DEAD BLOW
Rainy will have to dig deep and use all the tools in her box to both defend herself and the people she's just learning to love.
More info →
