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But the big news is no secret. My new book is finished, and off to the experts to get it formatted for publication.
It wasn’t an auspicious beginning:
All Annie McGregor wanted was to nail a cheating husband and prove herself worthy of being more than a glorified bookkeeper.
What she found when she opened the back door of the bar-of-the-night was so much more than she bargained for. A mutilated body that bore an eerie resemblance to her ex, and a stint in handcuffs.
But it was the mid 1980s, and was still a man’s world. Maybe becoming a private investigator wasn’t in the cards. Even with the guidance of her boss, Mike Edwards, and the other investigators of the Edwards Agency, Annie struggled to close a case. Add in her run-ins with the local cops, and things got messy.
Then bullets started flying. What really had her worried was that the second one wouldn’t miss.
I’m shooting for a release date of November 2nd.
But my cover artist is out of town, and my formatter was affected by both recent hurricanes, so I won’t make a promise. Speaking of the cover, the front is ready, and I’ll be sharing it soon.
While you’re waiting, here’s an excerpt:
“You never change, do you, bitch?” a man’s voice said.
It was the voice of her nightmares. Annie closed her book, took a deep breath, and prepared for the confrontation. “Go away, Ian.”
“Not a chance. You owe me, and I’m here to collect.”
Her gun was in her purse and the bar too crowded to use it safely. She studied her ex and mentally listed what else she had at hand that could be used as a weapon. Prison hadn’t done him any favors. His boyish good looks were gone, replaced with the face of a man with too many scars and pockmarks. The crude crucifix tattoo on his neck didn’t help.
To even the playing field, Annie slid out of the chair and stood, her feet planted slightly apart, ready for action. She didn’t have time to settle in before Ian pulled back his arm. She anticipated what was coming, having been on the receiving end of his fist too many times.
Her swivel wasn’t fast enough. His knuckles grazed her cheek, and she staggered back a step. The old Annie would have crumpled. This Annie didn’t. She balled her hands together and swung. It was liberating. She’d never fought back.
The story has been over a decade in the making. But this version bears little resemblance to the first. I like to say it is more of a tribute to that story, rather than a revision.
I’m really looking forward to sharing this book. Stay tuned for more information.
As always, until next time, please stay safe.