Dear Reader,
Can you smell Theo's tomato sauce for the gnocchi? My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I have to admit, that was one of the dishes at a restaurant where my oldest son used to work. A writer's inspiration comes from everywhere. Now that things are settling down for Theo and Gabrielle, they will probably catch the matchmaker bug from Mrs. Salvio. I'm thinking Jake's father might need to have his story told some time. Right now, I'm working on a new story with one of the sisters of the Masters men. Blaze definitely has a fire burning under me.
Right now I am working on the next installment of the Masters Men series. The youngest sister, Brooke, decided to move closer to Blaze, so the next book will be in Florida again. You can expect to go scuba diving as well as visit the Emergency Room at the hospital where Brooke now works. While you wait for that book, you might want to check out some of my other books.
The Colorado Dreams and Desires series, which you were just reading, has two other books in it. They do not have to be read in any particular order. The connecting thread is Colorado, not the characters. You might enjoy riding with Chaney on her ranch in A Daring Proposal, or starting a new stage in her life with Kaia Beecher in Reconstructing Roman.
My Colorado Skies series has seven books which can also be read in any order. I’ve placed an excerpt from The Butterfly Connection below for your enjoyment. If you like dark, wounded, brooding, heroes, Artemis is your man; and Emma is much stronger and more determined than her soft persona implies.
Please stop by my website and sign up for my newsletter to receive notices of upcoming releases. You can also send me comments or ask questions about characters from any of my books. I love getting to know my readers and helping them learn more about my characters. Who’s your favorite so far? I would love to know.
As always, I wish you happy reading.
Sandra
Emma gripped the steering wheel of the old VW bug tightly as she drove between the high, claustrophobic walls of Big Thompson canyon in the Colorado Rockies. Then the walls gave way allowing autumn sunlight to pour through the windshield. As quickly as relief pulsed through her veins, fear clutched its frigid fingers around her throat. The car went off the road and headed for a cliff.
The wheel spun uselessly when Emma tried to turn it. She pumped the brake pedal then yanked on the emergency brake. Nothing. The car sped over the gravel and dirt on the side of the road.
No. I can’t die now.
In desperation, she threw the gearshift into park. Her body slammed forward as the car came to a jarring halt. Her forehead smacked the steering wheel and bounced back. Reflex stiffened her grasp on the wheel to keep from hitting it again.
It took a few moments for the adrenaline rushing through her ears to quiet enough for Emma to realize she was still alive. With shaking fingers, she released the seatbelt and rubbed her aching shoulder. Pinpricks of light danced on the back of her eyelids as she touched the goose egg forming on her head. She wondered about her impulse to dump her Honda Civic and buy the sad little car. But, if whoever killed Eric knew where she lived, she figured they knew what kind of car she owned.
“Next get-away car definitely has an air-bag,” she mumbled.
Looking for the bag of snacks she’d bought at her last pit stop, she found it on the floor and pulled a soda can out. She lifted the cold can to the bump on her head and winced. Tears of pain spiced with frustration filled her eyes. It would be easy to give in and give up. A computer nerd and city girl to boot, she had no business playing private eye.
Then Eric’s last words filled her mind and a single tear trailed down her cheek.
“Damn you, Eric! You promised,” she screamed into the silence. Her palm slammed the steering wheel then quickly brushed away the rest of the unshed tears.
A cool breeze pulled her gaze to the open window where she came face to bark with a pine tree. Sighing in resignation, she climbed over the gearshift and out the rusty, stiff-hinged passenger door. When she straightened, the full force of the Colorado sun hit her sending another shock of pain through her head. Still shaky, she held onto the door while she snagged her sunglasses from the floorboard. Not caring whether the cliff she had avoided was two or twenty feet high, Emma didn’t bother looking. She continued to use the car for support while she assessed the situation.
Well, with no brakes and a steering wheel that had suddenly found a mind of its own, the car wouldn’t take her anywhere soon. Getting upset about something she couldn’t change would only waste energy and time she couldn’t afford. She grabbed her purse and jacket from the floor and the backpack Eric had given her off the front seat. Her eyes scanned the rest of the interior to be sure she hadn’t left anything necessary. A map caught her eye and she grabbed it.
Emma looked at her surroundings. All she saw were rock walls behind her and tall scraggly pine trees interspersed with Aspens and empty asphalt ahead. She spread the map on the hood of the car to see how far she had to go. Tongue clamped between her teeth she forced herself to focus though the squiggly lines made it difficult. It appeared about a finger’s joint distance to Aspen Ridge, the town she was looking for. That equaled about three miles she figured.
Emma pulled the backpack over her shoulders. She turned her face into the breeze and felt somewhat prepared to continue on the mission that had brought her halfway across the United States.
“This Artemis Jones better be as good as you said or I swear, Eric, I’ll . . .”
The ridiculous comment snagged in her throat. Bad enough you’re talking to the dead. Threatening to kill him means you’re heading off the deep end. The irony that she had almost driven off the deep end caused her to chuckle. Emma forced herself to start walking.
Forever an optimist, despite her present predicament, Emma tried to enjoy the Rocky Mountain landscape. Eric had often raved about it. Each step, however, produced a corresponding throb in her head. She told herself the fresh air and exercise would do her mind and body good after days stuck in an old car without air conditioning. Her pounding head disagreed. Ignoring it, she focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Determination is what she needed to help her in her search for the man that Eric had pleaded with her to find.
Emma still didn’t understand what had happened to her quiet orderly life except it had taken a drastic turn. It started with a cryptic email from Eric to meet him at their cabin north of Kingston, in what many people consider upstate New York. It ended four days later, with her in Colorado, trying to learn the truth of his death before the police or whoever killed him found her.
When she’d seen a newscast with her employee ID picture plastered on the screen she’d thought they believed her abducted. Shock filled her when they announced the Kingston, New York police considered her the lead suspect in Eric’s murder.
The newscast had served a purpose. It caused her to stop at a thrift store and purchase the ridiculous sandals, obnoxiously colored hippy outfit that hindered her step more than helped and why she’d let her normally braided hair fly loose and tangle in her backpack.
She hitched the skirt up tucked it around her belt and renewed her determination to find the town and the man her brother had mentioned. The sledgehammer in her head faded with her concentration.
“You are going to pay for this, Eric. I like concrete under my feet when I walk,” Emma grumbled as she continued hiking beside the mountain road. Lack of response did not stop her griping. “What could a man in Colorado possibly have to do with my safety in New York?”
A car sped around the curve halting her questions. The gust of wind blew the gauze fabric of her dress into a frenzy and dust into her eyes. Reflex had her hands covering her face while she blinked rapidly. When her eyes stopped stinging, she looked up the road. At least another mile stood between her and Aspen Ridge. An uphill mile. “Why couldn’t he live in Denver? That’s a city. You know I do cities better than country, Eric. Why did he have to live in the mountains?”
This time the silence irritated her. “Why the hell am I asking you now? You never answered my questions when you were alive. I guess it’s too much to expect you to send me some kind of cosmic message now that you’ve gone upstairs. Aughhh.” Shaking her fist at the sky, she adjusted the backpack and bag she carried and continued her hike.
Concern that someone would recognize her as she made her way across the country to Colorado had dogged her every mile. She might be thousands of miles away from home but she wouldn’t chance asking for help. Not yet. Eric had warned her to trust no one but Artemis Jones. The note she’d found stuffed in the backpack told her she could find him in Aspen Ridge.
Lost in her thoughts the blare of a horn snapped her back to the side of the road just in time. “Hey.” She jumped sideways dropping her bag and stumbling a few steps as a car took the turn too sharply and almost hit her.
“Jerk,” she yelled shaking her fist as it drove on without even slowing down. Emma turned at the sound of another vehicle slowing and pulling up behind her as several others kept going. She shielded her eyes from the glare of sun as she waited for the driver to get out.
She tried but couldn’t see through the windshield from where she stood. The glare on it added to the obvious tinting made it appear black. Why the hell was the guy taking so long, she wondered. Then the driver’s door finally opened.
Emma watched a hiking boot appear under the door. As it finally reached the ground, she calculated how tall its owner must be by the fact the truck had oversized wheels and she could still see dark hair above the door. About six four, she thought and a shiver ran through her as another booted foot joined the first then stepped back. The man closed the door.
A jolt of lightning wouldn’t have sent as much electricity through her as his gaze did. They were at least twenty feet apart and he had sunglasses on, but Emma could feel the intensity in him. An uncharacteristic fear followed the shock of awareness. She wondered if her Good Samaritan could be more dangerous than the person who had almost hit her. Even with self-defense classes, a man this big would definitely have the upper hand. He took a step toward her.
Emma stepped back. The man stopped.
“Are you all right?” he asked. He reached up removing the sunglasses from his face.
Emma wished he hadn’t. His gaze was even more intense as it scanned her from head to toe and back. When again it met her own, she felt like she had attached jumper cables wrong and someone had started the car. “F-f,” she cleared her throat. “Fine, thanks for stopping.” Geez, Louise. You’d think you’d never seen a man before, Emma.
For a moment, they remained that way. Emma assessing him and him, well hell, she didn’t know what he was doing. His eyes had narrowed and he looked displeased.
Big surprise, Emma. Turned another man off. She closed her eyes trying to tamp down the ridiculous disappointment the realization brought. Even the boring bank manager she’d dated had found someone better. Why should a man’s man like this be interested? Her eyes popped open when she heard his truck door open again. Relief filled her knowing she wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. Unfortunately, he didn’t leave. He seemed to be wrestling with something behind the seat. Then he closed the door and started walking toward her again.
“Drink this.”
He held out a bottle of water. Thirst won out over her brain debating the stupidity of drinking something offered by a stranger. She did, however, note the unbroken seal of the cap. Twisting it, she opened the bottle and drank deeply.
Warm but wet the water felt like life’s essence itself as she gulped it down. Knowing she shouldn’t drink it all too fast she lowered the bottle. “Thank you.”
“You shouldn’t be hiking without water.”
Emma glanced down at her dress and the stupid rope sandals on her feet. She raised her arms causing the bright pink flowing sleeves of the hippy dress she’d bought, to blow in the light breeze like wings. “Do I look like I’m hiking?” A raised eyebrow was his response. Okay, so being sarcastic to your rescuer probably wasn’t the most polite way to act but, geez. “I apologize. It’s been a helluva day. And no, I’m not hiking. My car broke down a couple of miles down the road.”
She took another drink while he seemed to be deciding what to do next. “I’m just going to Aspen Ridge. It isn’t much farther, is it?” she asked.
“No.”
Wouldn’t want him to waste words by telling me how far it is, Emma thought. Deciding Eric had been wrong and people here weren’t any friendlier to strangers than in New York, she forced a smile. “Well, thanks for stopping and the water,” she said holding up the bottle like a salute. She bent to pick up her bag and lost her balance when she straightened. “Whoa,” she said as the world started to spin.
“Shit,” her rescuer cursed as he caught her by the arm.
Buy The Butterfly Connection now at Smashwords
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