Hi there! I'm less than two months away from the release of the 3rd book in The Earth Angels series, WOUNDED ANGEL--yay! To celebrate its upcoming release, I'm posting little snippets here and there, starting with...the opening scene! Enjoy!
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Chapter
One
“Do you want to be helpless? Are
you happy with the idea of being someone’s prey? If so, quit now and let the
pain win. Quit, I say! But, if you refuse to be a victim, let’s do another five reps!”
Deaf to the heavy
metal beat thrumming through the kickboxing gym, Ella Little crouched in front
of the long black bag she’d already beaten to within an inch of its life, and
went through the drill for what felt like the millionth time. The combination
was a tricky one—three sharp left jabs and a fast uppercut right, then into two
side knee strikes, aiming for the ribs or kidneys. Next was a flurry of half a
dozen close-in body punches and an elbow strike before a front kick to gain
space, then finishing off with a pivoting roundhouse kick to the head.
Balance, speed,
power. A kill shot in each hit. In order for it to be effective in real life,
putting deadly intent behind each hit was the way it had to be trained.
One.
Within The Body
Electric’s cavernous kickboxing training room—or the Doom Room, as the more
dedicated gym members called it—people were dropping like flies. No surprise
there. The trainer was Jacob Braun, perpetually rabid and an agent of Mossad
before deciding to retire to Chicago to torture its unsuspecting residents. He
was in fine form this blustery March evening; with his eyes bulging and veins
popping, he looked like a man who’d missed his daily dose of anti-psychotic medicine.
His salt-and-pepper hair was shaved so that it was little more than bristles,
and he didn’t need the microphone headgear as he screamed his peculiar brand of
motivation while his mad eyes swept the room for easy prey. Ella hardly noticed
her co-worker and friend as he pounced on a flagging gym member, far more
intent on letting the power sing through each fluid punch and kick.
Two.
Though she loved
her job as a personal trainer and self-defense instructor at The Body Electric,
this was Ella’s favorite part of the week—kickboxing with Jacob. Where else was
it legally possible to let her violent flag fly, and even better, have it
encouraged? The front kick snapped out, zinging all the way up to her hip, and
she couldn’t stop the fierce smile. That one would have buckled an opponent’s
knee, no problem, and that knowledge shot satisfaction through her system. That
was what this class was all about—survival. Survival of both Jacob’s wild-eyed
instruction, and survival of the darkness that could swallow a person whole.
The kind of
darkness that had once done its best to swallow her.
Three.
Man, she was
tired.
To keep her mind
off the lava-hot burn of lactic acid in her quads, biceps and deltoids, Ella
tightened her pink-gloved fists and let her gaze wander to her neighbors. One
of them was bent at the waist with his hands on his knees in a position that
showed he was either in the process of regaining his breath or about to hurl. Another
was barely managing to lift her foot high enough to reach the bag. Jacob would
make them pay for their weakness.
Four.
Her bag jounced
with the impact of her kick, and its movement coincided with another bag off to
her right and ahead a few rows. Someone else was determined not to incur
Jacob’s wrath, if the bag’s violent dancing was any indication. Her attention drifted
to the man working the bag over like it had done him dirty, and her well-oiled
rhythm skipped a beat.
Hello.
He was a
newcomer to their gym, but certainly no newbie to working out. She was sure he
was new, because even if the traumas in her former life hadn’t locked her
emotions up inside and thrown away the key, she still would have noticed this
living testament to testosterone-infused eye-candy the moment he walked through
the doors. It was impossible not to notice him. The expanse of his shoulders
bared by a tank top could have given Atlas a run for his Titan-y money. The
rest of him was just as spectacular; he was a well-proportioned giant in a
world that appeared to be toddler-sized by comparison. Like her, his black hair
was damp with sweat, and long enough to tumble in waving abandon over his forehead.
His sharply angled brows hooded intense
eyes that even from this distance she could see were the color of onyx. There
was a leanness to his face that granted him a hungry look, with high cheekbones
shadowing concave cheeks darkened by a five o’clock shadow, and the faint sneer
snarling his upper lip would have done an Elvis impersonator proud. If
anything, he looked like he wanted to tear his punching bag a new one and was
ready to do it with his bare—
“Are you
enjoying your daydream, Ella?”
Her attention
snapped back to reality so hard she thought it might have made a noise. With a
sinking heart she realized that while she was checking out the vision of sweat-slick
masculine perfection a few bags over, Jacob had prowled toward her with all the
accuracy of a shark aiming for blood in the water.
Whoops.
“No daydreams here, Jacob.” With renewed focus
she attacked the bag in hopes of impressing him. “Just working the reps.”
“And do you know
what rep we’re on?”
“Of course I
do.” She could bluff with the best of them.
“What number?”
Shit.
“Four?”
A vein pulsed
down the middle of Jacob’s corrugated forehead. “You’re on your sixth rep,
which must mean you feel I’m not working you hard enough. Do you think I’m not
working you hard enough, Ella?”
“Um…”
“Thank you for
the suggestion. Everyone, Ella feels we should do more, so that’s what we’re
going to do. Five more reps, double-time!”
It was a wonder
she didn’t fall dead under all the lethal stares.
At long last the
torture came to an end. The man who had been bent over stumbled from the room
while a few others simply dropped where they stood. Ella didn’t bother to look
around to what the newcomer was up to; in all probability he was wishing her
six feet under like the rest of the class.
“I take it you
really like kickboxing?”
In the process
of toweling off her face and wishing she could strip out of her high-necked,
long-sleeved black compression shirt before she passed out from heat exhaustion,
Ella whirled around. Every nerve kicked into high gear as she zeroed in on the man
she’d noted earlier, now only a handful of feet away. First Jacob, and now a
stranger had snuck up on her. That went against her main survival rule of
always being aware of who was around her. This could not be allowed.
“I suppose.” Snappy
comebacks weren’t a consideration when her touchy ideals of personal security
were compromised. In a world that was far more dangerous than it appeared,
getting caught off-guard was an absolute no-no. “Sorry about the extra reps.”
His smile was a
slanted work of art, designed for the sole purpose of staggering the planet’s
female population. “Don’t be. I need the work, and this was a fun way to do
it.”
“I don’t think fun would be the word everyone would use
to describe Jacob’s advanced kickboxing class.”
“It’s all in the
motivation. Take me, for instance—I’m not happy unless I’m pushed to my limit. Not
that I’m a big believer in limits.”
Somehow this
wasn’t a shocker. “I think a few people in class hit theirs.”
“You didn’t. You
were hitting just as hard at the end as you were at the beginning.”
So he’d noticed
her. Ella had no idea if this was a good thing or bad thing. “I’m a trainer
here at The Body Electric, certified in strength and conditioning, self-defense
and sports medicine. If I can’t take whatever Jacob dishes out, I don’t deserve
to work here.” Then she closed her mouth with a click. Good grief, it must be
her evening for breaking personal rules. Information meant power, and personal
information gave power over her to people who had no right to it. Yet she’d
just offered up a cartload of her new life to a perfect stranger like she
didn’t know any better. It was like she’d forgotten every stay-alive lesson she’d
picked up in the past two years.
Who knew she was
such a sucker for a pretty face?
“A personal
trainer, huh?” His knockout smile widened, and she made herself look to the
task of folding her towel before she blurted her Social Security number and cup
size. “That explains it. No wonder I couldn’t keep up with you.”
Ella had to bite
her tongue to keep from assuring him that he’d kept up just fine. If she did
that, he would know she had been watching him, and that would lead to a
conversational brick wall. She didn’t want him to know she’d been aware of his
existence. She didn’t want to notice him, period.
Disgusted with
her tangled thoughts, she tried to appear professionally aloof as she
back-pedaled in the direction of Jacob, snatching up the gym bag that doubled
as her bug-out kit. Packed with all the essentials she’d need in an emergency
that covered everything from earthquakes to zombie attacks, she never went
anywhere without it. “Take a few more of Jacob’s classes and you’ll be up to
speed in no time. Have a nice evening.”
“Hey—”
“Bye now.” As
she turned away, she winced at the faint wisp of the South rolling through the words,
overcoming her carefully crafted Chicago-Midwestern monotone. Not good. Tiny
imperfections like that might not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but
those little things added up. If she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself having
to pull up stakes before someone found her.
Book three in The Earth Angels
A descendant of the Angel of Vengeance, Nate da Luca was gifted with an
uncanny ability to find things. It made his job as a detective a breeze—until he
learned the hard way that some things should remain hidden. After that, his
powers vanished, along with his belief in himself. Which is going to make
tracking down Gabriella Littlefield for his latest client a challenge.
Personal trainer Ella Little paid a hefty price for her life—now all she
wants is to live it in peace. Then a sexy hulk of a man turns up in her gym,
reigniting desires she thought she'd left behind along with her real name and
hair color.
Desires she can't deny even after she discovers Nate's no stranger to her
dark past.
Before he can convince her the attraction is mutual, Nate's going to have to
earn Ella's trust. But a demon is playing for keeps in the world of humans,
using Ella as bait, and the last thing they have is time…
Go back to the beginning with Nobody's Angel, available
now!
63,000 words
WOUNDED ANGEL is up for pre-order at: Amazon | B&N
For a closer look at WOUNDED ANGEL, please feel free to visit its
Pinterest storyboard.
