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Mid Week Tease A Blast From the past: Fire Angel

Well, I’m late to the party today because I was working on the synopsis fro my new novel. Between edits and rewritemidweekteases, I haven’t had time to do any new writing in some time. That being said, I thought I’d share a snippet from the book that made all of this possible. Fire Angel was published in April 2013.

Thanks again to Sandra Bunino who makes it possible for all of us to share our work here.

The premise:

A malicious serial killer is out for revenge, and he doesn’t care how many people have to die before he gets it. Using fire as a weapon, he strikes at random, and the bodies are piling up, leaving the citizens of Paradise wondering who is next.

Betrayed by the one closest to him, criminal profiler Jake McKenzie has returned from Afghanistan minus a leg and afraid to trust his instincts. When the police chief asks for his expertise in identifying the killer, he agrees knowing this is his chance to prove he can still do the job.

Sixteen years ago, fiercely independent Alexis Michaels escaped an abusive uncle and a deadly fire, to become one of the country’s top fire and arson investigators.  She reluctantly accepts the assignment and returns home to lead the hunt for the killer, knowing she will have to confront the memories she has repressed all these years. Her uncanny ability to put herself in the arsonist’s place is the skill they need to find this maniac.

When Jake discovers that his new partner is the girl who has haunted his dreams all these years, he finds himself enthralled, but memories of his dead wife make him doubt his emotions. Alexis has few pleasant memories of Paradise, but Jake is one of them. Undeniably drawn to him, she longs for a deeper relationship, but won’t compete with a ghost.

Until they catch the killer, they must set aside their conflicted emotions and work together. The clock is ticking, and the killer has made it clear: Alexis is next.

This week’s tease:

Jackson had mentioned blue flames. She thought of the fancy dessert she had had in Miami—something flamed. That flame had been blue too. What if alcohol and sugar had been poured over the bodies? A strong liqueur like Grand Marnier? It would burn quickly and with the modern Molotov cocktail, alcohol would be hard to spot. She checked the floor and the table for signs of wax, knowing it was a long shot at best. She noted that the table was made of metal, one of the old-fashioned ones that opened up to add a leaf. She examined the center crack. Something seemed to be stuck in it. She tugged at the table trying to open it, but the heat had fused it shut. She got down on her knees and crawled under the table, examining the underside of it and the floor. There it was—the same tacky, waxy residue she had found in the cabin and on the table from Duffy’s garage—just as the techs had noted in their reports. She grabbed a sample jar and scraped the floor. She grabbed another and scraped the table.

She walked over to the door with her camera and started snapping pictures. If the cocktail had been thrown through the window in the door as Jake had said, it would not have hit in the right place. She changed her vantage point and moved to stand near the sink. She faced the table on the other side of the room, about seven or eight feet away.

She slowed her breathing, closed her eyes, and allowed the evidence to bring the fire to life for her. The arsonist had stood right here and smashed the bottle full of chemicals against the wall, igniting the contents. He had stayed inside and watched the men burn, just as he had at the cabin. He would have heard them scream and seen them trying to put out the flames on their clothing, but he had used a lot of alcohol and the sugar—when the alcohol had burned off, the fabric and flesh had caught fire.

When she could finally breathe again, she thought she’d be sick. She reached into her kit and took out the bottle of water she’d added this morning. She took a deep drink, trying to steady herself. At times like these, her talent was not a gift, it was a curse.

She shook her head; she had to get out and get some fresh air. Then she would have to tell Jake about her talent. Jake needed to look for someone who had made an unusually large purchase of liqueur; he would have needed several bottles for this.

She was just leaving the kitchen when she heard a sound, a click that did not seem to belong. There it is again. She had heard it a couple of times earlier. She stood in the kitchen doorway and looked around the living room at the decrepit, damaged furniture, searching for something that clicked, but could find nothing. The old television set in the corner was silent. There was no radio, no clock. She smiled at Jackson, who stood near the open door through which his friend had just left. He closed it and turned to her.

“Do you hear that?” she asked Jackson, “that clicking sound?”

She saw Jake coming up the steps with two coffee cups; Jackson opened the door. There was that click again. Jake elbowed it open wider. Crack! All hell broke loose. There was a loud bang and the ceiling came down on top of her. Everything went black.

Want to read more?  Amazon

Now, Check out this weeks teasers:



Finally retired after more than 30 years as a teacher! Now, I get to spend my time gardening, enjoying my grandchildren, and writing. I finally completed the number one item in my bucket list and Crimson Romance published my first novel, Fire Angel, in April 2013. Since then I have published 24 manuscripts to date and don't plan to quit writing for a long time yet.

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