Monday, October 11, 2010

ExcerpTuesday: Melanie Atkins

Today welcome Melanie Atkins.


Melanie Atkins a multi-published author of romantic suspense, a fan of crime dramas, and an avid reader. Writing is more than an escape for her -- it's a way of life. She grew up in the Deep South listening to tall tales and penning stories about her cats. Now she writes gripping stories of love, suspense, and mystery with the help of her furry little feline muses.


Detective Kevin Jacobs believes integrity is the most important trait a cop can possess, until a beautiful doctor accuses him of murder and he's forced to take her hostage in order to clear his name. Rebecca Daniels cooperates with Kevin, and soon finds herself in a fight for her very life -- and also for her heart

BUY LINK: Orleans/Detail.bok




He gritted his teeth. "We're going to get up together and you won't make a sound. Got that?"

She didn't answer. Didn't move, didn't breathe. Silence filled the space around them so completely Kevin forgot to breathe, too. When he did, he drew in the bitter tang of blood. The coppery scent caught in his throat.

He gripped the back of her neck and squeezed, careful to keep his fingernails from digging into her tender skin. "You hear me?"

She nodded slowly, and a lone tear dripped down her cheek. Her pulse skittered wildly beneath his hand.

He tamped down the urge to be gentle with her slender, quivering body. He needed her to fear him so she wouldn't cause a commotion as they left the courthouse. How he'd get away without leaving a trail of blood, he didn't know. But he had to try, and she was his best hope.

"Get up." He rose and pulled her with him.

She held herself rigid. He grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the window. The light hit her face and he reeled from the animosity written there. Her eyes were the color of a clear summer sky. They snapped with rage.

"You killed Judge Boykin." Her sharp words made him blanch.

He tightened his grip on her arm. "It wasn't me."

"Oh, no? I saw you." Her accusing gaze slid down his black-clad body and he suddenly realized he and Fowler could be mistaken for twins -- except for the blood now soaking his shirt and jeans.

She tried to wriggle free, but he held her fast.

"I can't let you go. I need your help."

"Are you crazy?" she demanded, gaping at him.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he swallowed, hard. "I have to get out of here. I'm losing blood fast."

She looked at his side and her eyes widened. "Oh, my God."

"He stabbed me."

"Who did?" Her gaze jerked to his. "The judge?"

"No." There wasn't time to explain further. He eyed the window.

"There's no way out," she said, "except the door."

"We'll see about that." He lifted the Glock to her head. "Walk over to the window. Now."

"Surely you're not planning to--"

He glared at her.

The blood drained from her face. "You are."

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