tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20850219930149866942024-03-12T21:00:19.490-07:00Through Stephanie's Eyesa look into the world of author Stephanie RyanAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-54447330647424005082015-03-20T16:10:00.000-07:002015-03-20T16:10:10.004-07:00So long Blogger! I've moved to a new site #HostGator<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I've hit the road and found a new home on HostGator. I've been thinking about changing to a self hosted site for a while now. Google and Blogger's decision to move adult blogs to private (they've since changed their minds), pushed me to jump ship with two of my alter egos. The first to go was Tawny. I learned a lot about importing blogs by working with hers. Next up was Lia's and that was super easy to do. I decided not to move the .com domains over with Lia's and mine. Instead I used our .net domains. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Taking the new domains to HostGator and setting up the Wordpress.org blogs first and THEN importing the posts from Blogger was the way to go. There are so many more templates to choose from, both free and paid for versions. It's been a great experience and one I'm happy to have gone through.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I hope you will all join me here <a href="http://stephanieryanauthor.net/">http://stephanieryanauthor.net</a> and sign up to subscribe. I don't want you to miss any of my future posts and updates about DANGEROUS MEDICINE and all of my new releases coming up this year.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Thank you for supporting me!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-40881770841518137722015-01-09T17:17:00.000-08:002015-01-09T17:17:48.245-08:00What Do You Do When Real Life Mimics Reality TV? #MyWANA #ARTG<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Real life has sidelined me from my writing schedule as the flu has hit the Ryan household and knocked all of us down for the count. Today I'm finally feeling more human and able to focus so here I am to catch up and say welcome to everyone to my blog.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>While in my sick bed, I've had a chance to catch up on some mindless entertainment. As most of you know, I love the Real Housewives shows. The craziness they put in front of the cameras makes me laugh and gives me an escape from some of the stresses in my own life.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>Unfortunately, I've been living through and witnessing the Real Housewives behavior. Let me rephrase that—I've been the recipient of this behavior and have witnessed it being dished out on fellow authors. The backstabbing and manipulative behavior we see each week on these "reality" shows is over the top but nothing like experiencing it first hand.</i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">In Real Housewives of New York, Carol is the journalist of the group. She's also published one best seller and in the last season was in the editing process of her next one. Cut to Aviva. This one is writing her memoir and feels she is on equal level with someone who writes for a living. While it's true Aviva lost a leg as a child and is dealing with many phobias and ailments, it in no way makes her best selling author material and yet she feels she can belittle Carol's entire career.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">While Aviva has an entire writing "team" read ghost writers to get her story ready for publication, Carol does not. Editing is not the same as ghost writing. This is a fact that Aviva can't quite grasp. Instead of enjoying her own process, she has to belittle Carol's success. Why? Who knows but my suspicion is jealousy. Aviva can't write her way out of a paper bag so needs a "village" to get her book ready. To convince herself that's the way things are done, she tosses out barbs and repeats gossip as truth about Carol.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>Have I witnessed this same behavior in the author circles I'm a part of now? Yes. One of my friends is multi-published. She has degrees in journalism, written for magazine, edited for magazines, published with not one but THREE publishers and on her own. Unfortunately she lives in a community where money can buy you anything, including a deal with an unknown publisher for a memoir. This person takes every opportunity to brag about the supposed advance she's received for this memoir and belittles anyone who self publishes.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>This new "Aviva" now feels she's an expert in the world of publishing and presents herself as one. Unfortunately for her, she's burning a lot of bridges before her book is even written. My friend, the new "Carol" has been nothing but gracious but I'm fuming for her. I don't think I could have kept my cool. I would have told "Aviva" off and called her out from the start.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>Does that make me just as bad as the Real Housewives I watch each week? Probably. I'm only human. I don't like backstabbing, two faced people. I'm not talking about confiding in a friend when you're frustrated with the actions of another. I'm referring to malicious, intentional lies told about another to make yourself look good or to be included in a group of Mean Girls.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>Over a year ago, I'd gone through a massive break up of a partnership with three other authors. We were definitely going in different directions and it was better we ended the relationship but unfortunately we didn't do it soon enough. It got ugly in the end with another party getting in the middle of it and playing all sides against each other. </i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Fast forward to present day and the same thing has happened to these individuals. After all this time, others are now seeing the truth. While I feel vindicated, I'm also very sad because another person had to go through what had happened to me. Many had believed the lies and drank the Kool-Aid without gathering all the facts. Now they're experiencing the madness themselves.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>All the behind the scenes nonsense is something I never thought I would experience when I entered into the publishing world. I've come a long way since that naive newbie author. I've become guarded and let very few people into my inner circle now. I've witnessed authors stealing each others ideas, creating sock puppet accounts in order to slam their competition, and demand exclusivity in groups.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>All of this nonsense is leaving out the most important thing in this business...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i><span style="color: orange;">WRITING!!!!</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>With all the drama, stacking of lists on Goodreads, "like my page" groups, review swaps and paying for reviews, there is very little time left for these people to write or socialize with the people they need to get their books in front of...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i><span style="color: orange;">READERS.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>Real, live readers who give real, honest reviews and not the dozens to hundreds of "fake" 5 star reviews listed by members of author support groups. These are what we should be seeking out and not pimping our work to each other. Fellow authors are NOT our target audience.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i><br /></i><i><br /></i><i><span style="color: orange;">What do you do when real life mimics the Real Housewives? </span></i></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Laugh it off and get back to what is really important. Take care of your health, your family, and write, write, write! Don't fall into the trap of doing all promotions and no writing. Don't fall into the quagmire of obsessing over the damn lists on Goodreads. In the end, they mean NOTHING. </span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i><i>Readers mean everything. Through them you have sales. The more sales you have, the higher in the ranks you'll find your books. The more sales you have the better chance you will see your books on the best sellers lists...and not just Amazon.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>While I finish up DANGEROUS MEDICINE, I'll be working on winning with the Mean Girls and avoiding the drama. What about you?</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until next time,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-43738644894988477382014-12-02T12:49:00.005-08:002014-12-02T12:49:59.646-08:00How to Send #Ebooks to Your Kindle or Kindle App Without Going through Amazon #MyWANA #amwriting<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome back to Through Stephanie's Eyes. I've been hard at work finishing <span style="color: #e69138;">DANGEROUS MEDICINE</span><span style="color: #b45f06;"> </span>and turn it over to my editor. With luck and more hard work, it should be ready for release in the beginning of the New Year. I know. I know. I had hoped it would be done in time for a Christmas release, but the latest from the vendors is that unless we have a finished product to them within the next two weeks, there is no way they could guarantee a release date before the end of the year. In fact, many of them are <span style="color: #e69138;">CLOSED</span> from Christmas Eve through January 1st. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>If we hadn't had to spend the last three months getting ready for and then moving to the Seattle area, I would have had everything ready in time. No worries! Now I can be sure I'll have the best story I can give these characters. My editor, Amber Lea Easton will see to it. She ROCKS!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now for the other reason for today's post. This week I decided to revisit a subject that many Kindle users need a lesson on...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;"><i>How to send ebook files to their Kindle or Kindle app without the "one click" purchase from the Amazon site.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>I know some of you are staring at the screen and shaking your head. "How the hell can you do that? I thought I could only get books from Amazon because my Kindle can't open files from any other source."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>You all have been misinformed. Amazon is NOT the only place to find books for your Kindles. Same goes for NOOK, KOBO and any other device. Once you know the process, you can get your books from any other REPUTABLE and LEGAL retail site and publisher's site. <span style="color: #e69138;">(I'm in no way talking about the pirate sites and file sharing sites. Those are illegally sharing files. Don't use those. Support your favorite authors and publishers through legitimate venues.)</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's a really easy process and it will enable you to purchase your ebooks from sites other than Amazon if you wish. Yes, there are more sites out there that sell mobi format ebooks. Here are a few:</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/">All Romance Ebooks</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://www.omnilit.com/">Omnilit</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.bookstrand.com/">Bookstrand</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.evernightpublishing.com/">Evernight</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.ellorascave.com/">Ellora's Cave</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/">Smashwords</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/">Secret Cravings</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>and coming soon...<a href="http://www.sassyvixenpublishing.net/">Sassy Vixen Publishing</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Not only can you get ebooks at fabulous prices from these sites, you can also win them during blog hops and other giveaways. Authors and other groups routinely giveaway free copies of their work to promote themselves and to introduce new readers to their stories. You can even take one file type and convert it to a Mobi file for your Kindle...that's a topic for <a href="http://writerswow.blogspot.com/2013/10/wwow-using-calibre-to-manage-your-ebook.html">another post</a>, but you get my point.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>If you know how to send files to your ereader, you won't be tied down to just using Amazon for everything. You do need the Kindle email address assigned to you when you registered with Amazon for an account. You have one even if you only have the Kindle App for your phone or iPad. It should look something like stephryan@kindle.com</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now that's not my actual kindle addy but you get the picture. This is the email address you have to send all files TO. Now what email account or accounts are accepted by your Kindle is up to you as well. Go into your Amazon account and choose the tab that says: Manage Your Kindle. In there you'll find a spot where you can add all the sites that are allowed to send you material. In mine, I have my gmail account and Bookstrand's email. By allowing Bookstrand to send me stuff, I get an INSTANT upload to ereader. That's about as close to a "one click" shopping you can get!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now if someone were to send me a ebook file, in MOBI or PRC format...or even PDF format, I can download the file to my computer. I don't open the file yet. Instead, I send it as an attachment from my gmail account to my kindle address.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>That's it. Within five minutes I have the file on my ereader. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>If you'd like more detailed instructions, here's a step by step on how to do it straight from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/sendtokindle/email">Amazon</a>. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>So go on and get used to sending files to your Kindle. You'll be able to receive ARCs from your favorite authors, become beta readers for others, read the ebooks you've won in contests, read PDF files for your job...anything you can think of, you'll eventually be able to do it. Go on. Give it a go!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-21165771493314094662014-08-30T21:15:00.000-07:002014-08-30T21:20:49.232-07:00Fighting Through the Self Doubt, Fears, Tears and Writer's Block #amwriting #MyWANA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's been a while since my last post. Sorry about that. Life got in the way again...big time. It's not easy juggling a full time job as a veterinarian and writing under four pen names. As Stephanie, I am supposed to have my debut romantic suspense out at the end of October. Unfortunately, that may not go as planned.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>My husband is now retired from the Coast Guard. After twenty years of service, he wishes to move back to his home state of Washington. For many people, the idea of moving is overwhelming in itself. Add on to that jumping through all the hoops and the sea of paperwork to get my license to practice veterinary medicine, pack up the house, purge the unwanted stuff, sign the new contract with my employer (same group of hospitals, just a different state), write not one, but FOUR stories for three different publication dates. At this point only one may go out on time. My debut may squeak by in time, but the last one will be delayed by two weeks.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Of course this is the time to be thankful I'm my own publisher. That's right, not only am I the same person as Tammy Dennings Maggy, Lia Michaels and Tawny Savage, I'm also Sassy Vixen Publishing. All of these "hats" have kept me busy but now it's causing some serious writer's block.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>You would think I wouldn't have an issue. If one of my stories isn't working out, I can switch to another and keep going. That's the beauty of having four pen names. It has worked for me in the past, but now it's not. I'm so afraid of failing that my mind won't move forward...on anything.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I know I shouldn't compare myself to other authors, but that's much easier to say than do. Why can't I have those same successes others appear to have with their first books. Why can't I seem to get my groove and find friends and fans out there who want to take a chance on my stuff? It never fails that when I'm feeling this way, I get an email from Authorgraph telling me the low ranking of one of my earlier books. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Nothing like a kick in the gut when you're already thinking of quitting. Why should I go through with the publication of <b>Dangerous Medicine</b> if it will simply sit there, unnoticed in a sea of other new releases? I'm not able to devote the time it takes to promote it properly and not spam the hell out of social media with it. It feels weird for me to be involved in book clubs where we choose a book a week to help promote by reading it and giving honest reviews. There are other genres in there I'm not interested in and don't enjoy reading. I don't think it's fair of me to read those or expect the others to read my romance.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Nice pickle I have myself in, huh?</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's even harder for my erotica and erotic romance. Amazon continues to "fine tune" their algorithms and slap ADULT CONTENT labels on books so they're essentially hidden from general searches. So much for being discovered by new readers who love to browse through the categories!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I know many of you may look at this post as just one more from a whiny author who really doesn't want to succeed bad enough to keep going. You're entitled to your opinion, but until you go through a day in my shoes, deal with life and death of your patients, deal with groups of people going through Amazon and Goodreads tagging all your books with 1 stars just because they can, take care of your health and that of your family AND find time to write, edit, create book covers and promote all four pen names...(taking deep breath) then and only then can you make an INFORMED opinion on whether or not I'm whining.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I don't want to quit writing. I want to go back to the time when it was FUN to write and share my stories. I want that excitement of waking up in the middle of the night just to jot down a plot point or a bit of dialogue before it flies out of my head forever. I want the JOY of writing back again.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Yes, writing should be viewed as a full time job in order to succeed at it. I think this is my problem. I've been trying to be successful at THREE full time jobs: wife, veterinarian, and author. I've thrown in there publisher, editor, cover artist, public relations/marketer, social media technician, beta reader and reviewer...oh and don't forget blogger.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>There's not enough time in one day to accomplish a third of those tasks and yet I push myself to do them all. No wonder I'm blocked! LOL</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I'm taking this weekend to enjoy some time away with my hubby and forget about the move, the deadlines, laundry and housework. When I get back, I hope to have cleared my mind enough to pick a few things from my To Do list and complete them. I'll not look at the rest of the list until those are done. It's the only way I'll get through it.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>If <b>Dangerous Medicine</b> isn't a best seller right out of the gate...so what? It's still going to be published. I owe it to myself to finish this one. I started it in 1999. Maybe it's time I took Journey's advice and enjoy the blessings I have in my life instead of allowing all the other "stuff" to weigh me down. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Don't Stop Believin',</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span><br />
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<object height="360" width="640"><param name="movie" value="//www.youtube.com/v/VRAz51wDHDE?hl=en_US&version=3&rel=0"></param>
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<embed src="//www.youtube.com/v/VRAz51wDHDE?hl=en_US&version=3&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="640" height="360" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-1911307171596024122014-07-25T11:13:00.000-07:002014-07-25T11:13:46.479-07:00#FridayFantasy: Cover Reveal for #RomanticSuspense DANGEROUS MEDICINE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nykark30Pfk/UWt7Mawb4YI/AAAAAAAAAGE/7xfJZQfC4do/s1600/Friday+Fantasy+Free+For+All.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nykark30Pfk/UWt7Mawb4YI/AAAAAAAAAGE/7xfJZQfC4do/s1600/Friday+Fantasy+Free+For+All.jpg" height="240" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome back and happy Friday! Today is an extra special day here. We've finalized the cover for <b>Dangerous Medicine.</b> It wasn't easy. At first I wanted to go simple and not put a couple on the cover. This one isn't an erotic romance like the others I've written under other pen names. It's a romance, but the concentration of the story is more on the suspense aspect. The steamy love scenes are there, but you have to wait for them just like the characters. LOL!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I poured through more photos but then went back to the bunch I'd saved for inspiration. BINGO! I got my red head heroine and the smokin' hot hero in a sensual clinch. It's steamy without giving you the impression it's erotica.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>What do you think?</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hNMRpAgnn5Y/U9KdsBJiT8I/AAAAAAAAAV8/G_33yeyv9Qk/s1600/Couple+Dangerous+Medicine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hNMRpAgnn5Y/U9KdsBJiT8I/AAAAAAAAAV8/G_33yeyv9Qk/s1600/Couple+Dangerous+Medicine.jpg" height="640" width="402" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-70197880808633446122014-07-09T16:13:00.000-07:002014-07-09T16:13:29.379-07:00**99¢** Party For the #Anthology Featuring a #SneakPeek of DANGEROUS MEDICINE by @StephRyanAuthor<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome back to Through Stephanie's Eyes. I'm Stephanie Ryan and today I'd like to give you a head's up about the special my publisher is running right now. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vbLLFfyx6Ds/U73LYD0EZeI/AAAAAAAAAVg/LnynsEqTm68/s1600/+Sweet+Sultry+Oh+So+Taboo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vbLLFfyx6Ds/U73LYD0EZeI/AAAAAAAAAVg/LnynsEqTm68/s1600/+Sweet+Sultry+Oh+So+Taboo.jpg" height="320" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The new anthology <b>Sweet, Sultry, and Oh So Taboo</b> is only 99¢ for the next three days only. It's made it into the top 100 paid Kindle anthologies and it features the first six chapters of my debut romantic suspense <b>Dangerous Medicine.</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>As you recall, Sassy Vixen Publishing decided to offer this anthology up as a special release in time for RomCon in Denver. It was such a hit, they decided to continue with it and release it to everyone on all retail sites. Right at this moment it is 99¢ on ALL sites including <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id892982681">iTunes</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sweet-sultry-and-oh-so-taboo-tammy-dennings-maggy/1119870133?ean=9781501429057&itm=1&usri=9781501429057">Barnes and Noble</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L9SCHAS">Amazon</a>, and <a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/sweet-sultry-and-oh-so-taboo">Kobo</a>. If you love to get your eBooks form <a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-sweetsultryandohsotaboo-1556812-166.html">All Romance</a>...it's there too.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Here's the BLURB:</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">The “Sweet” from Stephanie Ryan’s <b><i>Dangerous Medicine (M/F): </i></b>Detroit
based veterinary surgeon Miranda Jacobs puts
her fast-paced career on hold in order to be with her family at her brother's
bedside. It's on the way to the hospital that she literally collides with
Detective Jake Martinelli. Sparks fly between them, and Miranda finds herself
fiercely attracted to Jake even though she knows very little about him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vbLLFfyx6Ds/U73LYD0EZeI/AAAAAAAAAVk/i-04mnZ4cKg/s1600/+Sweet+Sultry+Oh+So+Taboo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vbLLFfyx6Ds/U73LYD0EZeI/AAAAAAAAAVk/i-04mnZ4cKg/s1600/+Sweet+Sultry+Oh+So+Taboo.jpg" height="320" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">The “Sultry” from Tammy Dennings Maggy’s <b><i>Meet
Me Under the Mistletoe (MF)</i></b>: Coast Guard Steve Sanders is called to
assist a sinking vessel. His pregnant wife Jolene waits for his return when the
rescue mission has goes horribly wrong. Will a miracle bring him back to meet
his wife under the mistletoe? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">The “Taboo” from Lia Michaels’s <b><i>Have a Naughty, Naughty Christmas
(MFMM)</i></b>: Candice, Alexander and Gabriel own Candy Kisses, the place to
be in Detroit. The business partners have kept their desires hidden. When a
wealthy playboy extends an offer that allows them to indulge their wildest
fantasies, they embark on a very naughty Christmas. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>If you prefer the print version, it's available through Createspace, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and many other outlets. From Amazon, if you purchase the print book, you get the eBook at a reduced price. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>So what are you waiting for? Grab this collection now to help you get ready for my full novel, and the next installments of Tammy and Lia's tales. So many more stories are coming up throughout the rest of the year. You don't want to miss a single one!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until next time,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Steph</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-68433347560209031092014-06-06T14:02:00.000-07:002014-06-06T14:02:56.104-07:00#CoverReveal and Getting Ready for #RomCon2014 #amwriting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fCZ1dIEr3sY/U5IoAKqjmGI/AAAAAAAAAUk/gtZEeF5TMOg/s1600/Sweet+Sultry+and+Taboo+smaller+print.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fCZ1dIEr3sY/U5IoAKqjmGI/AAAAAAAAAUk/gtZEeF5TMOg/s1600/Sweet+Sultry+and+Taboo+smaller+print.jpg" height="386" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I'm so excited to show off the cover for <b><span style="color: orange;">Sweet, Sultry and Oh So Taboo</span></b>. Sassy Vixen Publishing decided to put out the first six chapters as a sneak peek for the readers at RomCon 2014. I know you've all read them here on my blog, but they've been edited and now PUBLISHED in this book along with two novellas by my alter egos, Tammy Dennings Maggy and Lia Michaels.</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tltKchdaZ0s/U5IqmOjv38I/AAAAAAAAAUw/vlLYI12a0BI/s1600/IMG_20140603_194249_708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tltKchdaZ0s/U5IqmOjv38I/AAAAAAAAAUw/vlLYI12a0BI/s1600/IMG_20140603_194249_708.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>At the book signing on Friday June 20th, we'll have copies of this collection as well as a few other Sassy Vixen Publishing books available for purchase. During the convention, multiple copies of this one and others will be given away for prizes and in gift baskets. "We" will be involved in the Erotic Authors Panel (Tammy Dennings Maggy...well, me since we are one and the same! LOL), Karaoke and Dance with the Decades with the 70's games Hungry Hungry Hippos and Kerplunk, Get Crafty with the Authors at the sewing table demonstrating how to make a cool quilted book cover, and running the Naughty Bingo during the Chocolate Mangasm. We'll have all sorts of candies, swag and baskets for prizes at each event. </i></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v1nYfzRjwug/U5Iq2rSsLTI/AAAAAAAAAU4/I6o4VqiY7MQ/s1600/166994_2377756404460_1267123112_32276685_605533871_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v1nYfzRjwug/U5Iq2rSsLTI/AAAAAAAAAU4/I6o4VqiY7MQ/s1600/166994_2377756404460_1267123112_32276685_605533871_n.jpg" height="320" width="176" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Another thing we've put together is a large basket for the Breast Cancer Awareness/Research raffle. In it will be print copies of all our books, swag and a hand made knitted prayer shawl along with a decorated framed poem from <span style="color: orange;"><b>Follow Me: Poetry from the Heart and Soul</b> </span>by Tammy Dennings Maggy.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Another framed poem will be given away during the Get Crafty with the Authors event.</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2BTSch2YIDM/U5Ir-6loTsI/AAAAAAAAAVA/R4-Yya5IUZI/s1600/+Sweet+Sultry+Oh+So+Taboo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2BTSch2YIDM/U5Ir-6loTsI/AAAAAAAAAVA/R4-Yya5IUZI/s1600/+Sweet+Sultry+Oh+So+Taboo.jpg" height="320" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>On July 1st, the special editions released at RomCon will be made available on all retail outlets in both print and eBook formats. I hope you join me in making their releases extra special and get them to the top of the charts!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>See you in two weeks!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-29998244967615255452014-05-11T23:31:00.000-07:002014-05-11T23:31:39.699-07:00Mother's Day Reflections of the World of Publishing from @StephRyanAuthor <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8_pj1qz1Peg/U3BaXo3yN4I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/1QshN07ZQic/s1600/1796496_10152202002385729_71618286_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8_pj1qz1Peg/U3BaXo3yN4I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/1QshN07ZQic/s1600/1796496_10152202002385729_71618286_n.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Happy Mother's Day to all those caregivers out there. I don't have any human children of my own, but my fur babies are more than enough for me at this point in my life. My hat is off to those who are able to juggle everything and raise kids in the crazy world we live in today.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Speaking of crazy...</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SQzrPUz9L2o/UiGrBLEFBqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/IPPZL1tOHUs/s1600/cast+of+real+housewives.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SQzrPUz9L2o/UiGrBLEFBqI/AAAAAAAAAK4/IPPZL1tOHUs/s1600/cast+of+real+housewives.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>You know how I love the Real Housewives shows. They're so over the top and allow me an escape of what's going on in my life. Watching these crazy women go at each other is so entertaining that at times I forget that they are real women. Sure some of it may very well be staged, but there are times when those fights are all too real and too close to home.</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r9Gf_ulHxQE/UiGrml_ECKI/AAAAAAAAALQ/MmAuKU1VcyM/s1600/Kim+D+from+Jersey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r9Gf_ulHxQE/UiGrml_ECKI/AAAAAAAAALQ/MmAuKU1VcyM/s1600/Kim+D+from+Jersey.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>When I first entered the world of publishing, never in my wildest dreams would I ever think there would be so many incidents of backstabbing, sabotage, fighting among authors in the same genre and among those in varying heat levels of the genres, fights between author and reviewers/bloggers...and on and on. If I would have known this profession would be as cutthroat as it is, I'm not sure I would've ever jumped in and submitted my first book to Siren Bookstrand under another pen name.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Maybe it's better that I didn't know. I've learned a hell of a lot in the last four years. Some of which isn't very pretty and I'm not proud of all of my actions at times, but I own up to them and have moved forward to try to be a better person and treat others accordingly. Unfortunately, part of those lessons learned have been at the hands of a few who had disguised themselves as friends—people to lend and ear or shoulder to cry on when things were rough.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>What a crock. This is where I have to remind myself and all of you to listen to your inner voice. If the situation sounds too good to be true, it will turn around and bite you in the ass when you least expect it.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>My adventure as an author and publisher has now become like the Real Housewives. I can't declare any city as part of the name as the ensemble are from all over the country. Maybe we could call it "The Real Housewives of Indie Publishing" or "The Real Housewives of Amazon." No matter the title of the thing it all ends up the same—into a nightmare of lies and half truths.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The only way out of the quagmire is to walk away. Even if you know you are telling the truth and you feel betrayed, let it go. The others involved in the mess may feel the same. If it's meant to work out, it will in good time. You can't force it. You have no control over whether people believe you or not. What you do have control over is whether or not you allow others to take you from your chosen path.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Some of you may be here to see if I'm going to spill any dirt on what has been happening between me and some others. You won't find it here. Those issues are between us and no one else's business. One day the whole truth will come out. Until then, all of us have lives to lead, books to write and readers to meet.</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Speaking of books to write, I'll have chapter 7 of <b>Dangerous Medicine </b>up in two weeks. It will be the final chapter of the free read portion of the novel. Make sure you catch up on the rest of the story before then. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/freeread-from-stephryanauthors-debut.html#.U0JF0_ldXNl">Chapter 1</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/chapter-2-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0JID_ldXNk">Chapter 2</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-chapter-3-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0oTCvldXNk">Chapter 3</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-from-stephryanauthor-dangerous.html#.U1NzuvldXNk">Chapter 4</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/chapter-five-of-freeread-from-dangerous.html#.U2dAdfldV8E">Chapter 5</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/05/chapter-6-of-dangerous-medicine-by.html#.U3Bpf_ldV8E">Chapter 6</a></i></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>See you soon,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-14583066051825729092014-05-05T01:00:00.001-07:002014-05-05T01:00:58.369-07:00Chapter 6 of DANGEROUS MEDICINE by @StephRyanAuthor #FreeRead #romanctic #suspense<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome back to Through Stephanie's Eyes! After just a little delay, I have the sixth chapter of the free read from my debut romantic suspense novel <b><span style="color: orange;">Dangerous Medicine</span>. </b>I'm to the point in my rewrites where I have to decide how many more chapters I'll offer as a free read. The response so far has been amazing! If you'd like to see the story continue on here, let me know. I still have plans to release the entire novel by the end of the summer/fall but my question is whether or not to offer the entire story here one chapter at a time or leave something as a surprise?</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Let me know your vote in the comments below. For now, here are the links to the previous chapters so you can catch up if you've missed any. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/freeread-from-stephryanauthors-debut.html#.U0JF0_ldXNl">Chapter 1</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/chapter-2-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0JID_ldXNk">Chapter 2</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-chapter-3-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0oTCvldXNk">Chapter 3</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-from-stephryanauthor-dangerous.html#.U1NzuvldXNk">Chapter 4</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/chapter-five-of-freeread-from-dangerous.html#.U2dAdfldV8E">Chapter 5</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>In <b><span style="color: #e69138;">Dangerous Medicine</span></b>, you meet Dr. Miranda Jacobs, a veterinary cardiothoracic surgeon in the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan. Thefts of one of the most common veterinary anesthetics are on the rise resulting in the sale of it on the street as "Special K." Miranda comes face to face with the devastating effects of ketamine when her brother is slipped some at a fraternity party. He has a severe allergic reaction that ultimately puts him into a coma. </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Miranda puts her fast-paced career on hold in order to be with her family at her brother's bedside. It's on the way to the hospital that she literally collides with Detective Jake Martinelli. Sparks fly between them, and Miranda finds herself fiercely attracted to Jake even though she knows very little about him. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Jake Martinelli is nearly knocked off his feet when he meets Miranda for the first time. Normally he'd avoid headstrong, career oriented women like her, but something drew him in like a moth to a flame. She awakened feelings he thought dead a long time ago. He tried to ignore his growing attraction for her while he concentrated on finding the person responsible for putting her brother in the coma, but his mind continued to wonder what it would be like to have her in his bed.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>And now this week's free chapter...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>Chapter 6</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda took a deep breath and let it out as she entered
Matthew’s room. She pulled on of the chairs closer to the bed, careful not to
disrupt any of the monitors. The machines cast an eerie glow over the room and
enabled her to see her brother clearly even though the overhead lights had been
turned off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She reached for his right hand and entwined her fingers with
his. Her heart wrenched but her eyes remained dry, spent of every tear her body
could spare, He appeared so small in the bed with all the tubes and wires
tangled around his well-muscled body. She ignored the noises of the machines
that tracked his vital signs, and concentrated on his face. “What the hell have
you gotten yourself into now, little brother? If you wanted to get me home for
a visit, you could’ve called.” She imagined his voice in her mind chastising
her for not picking up the phone herself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">A sudden burst of anger flooded through her body. “Damn it,
Matt! You can’t leave me now. There’s so much I have to talk to you about.”
Miranda swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and tried another
tactic. “I sit for my board exams soon and MVS wants to bring me on as the
Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery. Pretty go, huh? And you! Ma told me you want
to be a cop. When on earth did you decide that? Thanks for leaving me out of
the loop on that one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda squeezed his hand tighter. “Matty, please wake up.
There’s so much going on that you need to be a part of around here. Melody is
going to give you another niece any day now. You can’t miss that. And little
Billy—he’s just lost without you.<i> I’m </i>lost without you. Please, please
heal fast and come back to us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Madeline entered the room with the night nurse. “Darlin’,
vising hours are over. The staff has been kind enough to allow me to camp out
with Matt for tonight, only on the condition that the rest of you go home and
give them some peace and quiet.” Madeline’s eyes glistened with tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda let go of her brother’s hand and vacated her seat.
“I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Is there anything else you want from
the house?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“No, I think you brought all I’ll need for tonight and the
next few days. You go and get some sleep, and make sure Jake goes home too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“The Detective is still here?” Miranda had forgotten all
about asking him to stay with Billy. Her stomach fluttered and she felt her
cheeks start to burn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Her mother didn’t miss it either. “He’s a handsome man, that
Jake. Besides, the way he explained everything to Billy was amazing. He found
the words to help the boy understand. Billy even pulled him into a prayer
circle with the rest of the family.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>She’s really smitten with him that’s for sure. </i>“Ma, I
know what you’re doing. Don’t start.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Madeline chuckled. “I’m not starting anything. Looks to me
like the two of you have something brewing all on your own. Now don’t give me
that shocked look, Randi. I’m a mother and I miss nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda smiled and waved as she backed out of the room to
avoid any further conversation about Jake. She made her way to the ladies room
across the hall. She locked the door, thankful for a few moments alone to
gather up her nerve to face the rest of her family. She kept her eyes closed,
and took in several deep, cleansing breaths. Once her heart rate returned to
normal, she opened her eyes and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. “Whoa,
you could scare the hell out of Freddie Krueger.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She stuck her tongue out at the mirror image then ran the
cool water to wash her face. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and what little
mascara she wore, now pooled under her lower lashes. Her hair refused to be
tamed by the clip. She finally gave up on it and let it fall free around her
face and down her back. “I guess that will have to do for now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">As she approached the waiting room, she heard her father’s
voice as he corralled the family up to leave the hospital for the night. She
squared her shoulders and strode into the room, ready to help round up the
children. She froze in her tracks. In the far corner, near the television, she
found Jake and Billy curled up together fast asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Marah approached her with Billy’s coat draped over her arm.
“They’ve been that way for almost a half hour now. I’ve been afraid to bother
them. They look so peaceful. God knows Billy could use the rest, and from the
looks of it so could the Detective.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I’ll get Billy ready. You go ahead with the others.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Marah’s eyes twinkled. “I bet you’ll get Billy ready.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Don’t you start on me too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Hmm. So Ma is trying to fix the two of you up now? Not a
bad idea.” Marah barely stifled a giggle. “He is one fine looking specimen of a
man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda’s eyes flew open and her jaw dropped to her chest.
“You and Ma are hopeless. Quit trying to set me up and get the gang ready to
hit the road.” She didn’t wait to hear anymore of her sister’s teasing remarks and
made her way toward the sleeping duo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gC5HnpShQQk/U0JN2k2mYhI/AAAAAAAAASY/oGlAAMBmOD0/s1600/shutterstock_105822308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gC5HnpShQQk/U0JN2k2mYhI/AAAAAAAAASY/oGlAAMBmOD0/s1600/shutterstock_105822308.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake’s eyes snapped open as she came within a foot of the
couch. “What time is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Her knees weakened at the sound of his voice, deep and husky
from sleep. “It’s time to go home. They’re kicking up out for the night.”
Miranda combed through Billy’s hair with her fingers. He barely stirred. “Time
to get this cowboy back to his own bunkhouse for the night. He’s got school
tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake took Billy’s coat from her hands and wrapped it around
him. He stood up and kept the boy in his arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Billy snuggled closer to him, mumbled incoherently and
appeared to drift back into a deep slumber.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“If you’ll show me the way, I’ll get him to your sister’s
car. We shouldn’t jostle him around unnecessarily. He needs his sleep. He’s pretty
much exhausted from worrying about Matt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“You look like you could use a date with the pillow as well,
Detective.” Miranda stood up on tiptoes and kissed Jake’s cheek. “Thanks for
staying with Billy and for explaining everything to him. Ma told me you went
above and beyond. For that I’ll be forever in your debt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake flashed the crooked smile that took her breath away
when they first met. He bent over and softly kissed her on the lips. “Any time,
Doc. Any time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda flushed from head to toe and her head spun. Never
before had a kiss sent her mind reeling and her body aching for more—not like
this. “We…we should get him to the car before he wakes up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Too late.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“What?” She peered down at her very awake, smiling nephew. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“How long have you been awake?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Billy’s grin spread from ear to ear. “Aunt Randi and Jake.
Sitting in a tree. K—I—S—S—I—N—G.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Oh you!” Miranda tickled him. “That will be enough of that
nonsense.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I kind of like that tune. Now how does it go? K—I—S— Jake
dodged Miranda’s right hand, and flung Billy over his shoulder like a sack of
potatoes. “What do you say we make a run for it, Billy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and followed them
to the elevator. “Heaven help me, I think I’m falling for this man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake spun around and smiled. “Did you say something, Doc?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda startled. <i>God, did I say that out loud?</i>
“Um…it was nothing. Let’s get downstairs before the nurses call security to
escort us out of here. And quit calling me Doc.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Only if you stop calling me Detective.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Billy giggled and continued to hum the kissing song. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda pulled her lips between her teeth to prevent herself
from smiling. <i>Yeah, I could use a little more of the kissing part and less
of the singing. I wonder what his lips would feel like all over my body…</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>* * * *</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>Christ, I can’t believe I kissed her. She must think I’m
some nut job hitting on her in the hospital. To be fair, she kissed me first,
but I couldn’t resist. With her hair down like that, and her cheeks all rosy
pink she looked like a Celtic goddess. That’s it. She put a spell over me. I’m
not responsible for my own actions. </i>He sat in his jeep and watched the
Jacobs family caravan pull out of the hospital parking lot. He smiled and waved
as Billy passed by his window making smooching motions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Then there was Miranda staring back at him from the front
seat of her father’s car. She brushed her hair back from her face and waved
goodbye with just her fingertips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">His heart raced and his palms sweat. He wiped his hands on
his jeans and then started up the jeep’s engine. This was an entirely new
experience for him. Even his ex-wife never brought out this kind of reaction.
Something about the red haired veterinarian turned his insides to mush. When
around her, his mind kept wandering to fantasizing about her, holding her in
his arms and comforting her through this ordeal with her brother. Her subtle
perfume only added to his attraction. To him she smelled like fresh baked
cookies—of home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">This is the one he’d been searching for his whole life and
now he may lose her before ever having a chance to see where their attraction
might lead. He wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but what coursed
through his body now had to be more than simple lust. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Lust he could handle. The feelings Miranda stirred up in him
tonight threatened to overwhelm him and make him forget the job he had to do.
If only Matthew hadn’t taken matters into his own hands with the investigation
of the attack on his friend. He wouldn’t be fighting for is life now and Jake
wouldn’t be distracted from taking down the man responsible for the Ketamine on
the street. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He cranked up the radio as he pulled into traffic and headed
for his empty apartment. With everything going on that evening, he’d forgotten
the Lieutenant ordered him to take some leave. For the next few weeks he had to
relax and let the rest of his team continue the investigations. He owed it to
Matthew to rest up and be at his best in order to bring those who did this to
him and attacked his friend are <i>all </i>brought to justice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He smiled and touched his lips. <i>If I didn’t have that boy
in my arms when I kissed her, I don’t think I would have been able to keep my
hands off her when those elevator doors closed. She can deny it all she wants
but I know I heard her say she was falling for me. Maybe she was only joking,
but I’d love to put it to the test.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew had told him about her on many occasions and he’d
seen pictures of her, but he had to admit he wasn’t prepared for their first
face to face meeting. Now that he had the pleasure, he wanted more, even if it
meant butting heads all the time. Jake recognized a kindred spirit when he saw
one. Career driven and bullheaded appeared to be traits they had in common
based on Matthew’s initial descriptions of her but Jake had been completely
surprised by her soft side around her family. He’d admired how she held herself
together to be strong for them when he could tell all she wanted to do was
collapse in a heap. To him, that vulnerability combined with her strength made
her so much more desirable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cU8Pxp4lrs8/U2dE8ER2_RI/AAAAAAAAAUA/r4kxSaoulDw/s1600/shutterstock_159241058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cU8Pxp4lrs8/U2dE8ER2_RI/AAAAAAAAAUA/r4kxSaoulDw/s1600/shutterstock_159241058.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Of course she had many other traits that appealed to him as
well. Her porcelain skin with a hint of freckles over her nose and cheeks, her
emerald eyes with flecks of gold, her soft ruby lips made for kissing, and
those curves she tried to hide under a football jersey all came together to
make one irresistible package crowned with a thick mane of auburn curls. The self-proclaimed
loner and bachelor had to admit he never stood a chance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He resigned himself to spending another sleepless night
alone in his king sized bed. It wasn’t the stress of his job that would keep
him up tonight, but visions of the firecracker veterinarian asleep in his arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>* * * *</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange;"><b>All Rights Reserved ©Stephanie Ryan 2014</b></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-61974903573542614692014-04-27T23:49:00.001-07:002014-04-27T23:49:41.130-07:00Chapter Five of the #FreeRead From DANGEROUS MEDICINE by @StephRyanAuthor #romantic #suspense<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome back! I hope the last few weeks have been kind to you. It's still a bit hectic in the Ryan household, but there's finally light at the end of the tunnel as they say. I've had a few messages from folks looking for the next installment in my romantic suspense novel <b><span style="color: #e69138;">Dangerous Medicine</span>.</b> Wait no longer. It's here!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Chapter five finds our heroine Miranda Jacobs at the hospital waiting to hear more about her brother's condition. He'd been slipped a potent veterinary drug in his beer at a fraternity party. Unfortunately, he suffered a seizure from it and had fallen down a flight of stairs. He's currently in a coma while his family holds vigil in the hospital waiting room. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Our hero, Jake Martinelli appears to be well known by the Jacobs family—much to the bewilderment of Miranda. Not only has she found herself fiercely attracted to the sexy police detective, she figures out her family may be doing a bit of matchmaking on her behalf. If it was any other time, she'd go with it, but not while her brother's life hang in the balance.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>For those of you who need to catch up, here's the links to the previous chapters.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/freeread-from-stephryanauthors-debut.html#.U0JF0_ldXNl">Chapter 1</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/chapter-2-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0JID_ldXNk">Chapter 2</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-chapter-3-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0oTCvldXNk">Chapter 3</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-from-stephryanauthor-dangerous.html#.U1NzuvldXNk">Chapter 4</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now let's continue on with <b><span style="color: #e69138;">Dangerous Medicine</span></b>...</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>Chapter 5</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ed9EShsVScE/U0JTzPq6FJI/AAAAAAAAAS4/YjV1au0p9w4/s1600/shutterstock_120690061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ed9EShsVScE/U0JTzPq6FJI/AAAAAAAAAS4/YjV1au0p9w4/s1600/shutterstock_120690061.jpg" height="322" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The doors of the elevator opened and Miranda stepped out
into the hallway with Jake close behind her. She bit her lip, unsure where to
go to find her family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He placed his right hand on the small of her back and gently
guided her toward the waiting area to their right. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“The neurology patients have
their own wing and waiting area.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She’d initially stiffened at his touch, but then relaxed as
if the two of them together was the most natural thing in the world. It was as
if knowing he was there with her—for her, gave her renewed strength. “Thanks. I
have to admit I didn’t hear one word of the directions from the nurse on the
first floor.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“It’s understandable. You have a lot on your mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Aunt Randi!” Her eldest nephew, Billy, ran toward her with
his arms wide. “I knew you’d come. Nobody’ll tell me what’s going on with Uncle
Matt. They treat me like a baby.” Billy squeezed her waist with his arms and
locked his fingers together behind her back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She loosened his death grip and then knelt down to his
level. She gazed into the seven-year-old’s hazel eyes. He appeared frightened
and torn with his need to be held and to be treated like a grown up. “Hold on
there, cowboy. We’re all worried. No one’s keeping things from you. The
doctor’s haven’t told us what they found on his last round of tests yet. I’ll
help explain everything as soon as I know. Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Billy nodded and threw his arms around her neck. As she
stood up, she lifted him into her arms. “Let’s see about finding your parents,
huh?” She looked over her shoulder and noticed Jake grinning from ear to ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He shook his head. “You continue to surprise me, Doc.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Is that good or bad?” She searched his face for some clue
as to what he meant by his comment. “I hope you’re prepared, Detective. You’re
about to be mobbed by a very emotional, loud, but loving family. Did I mention
loud? Can you handle it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake chuckled. “We’re about to find out. By the way—it’s a
good thing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda’s cheeks burned. “I’ll keep that in mind,
Detective…uh, Jake.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“There’s my girl.” Michael Jacobs Sr. stopped his pacing and
strode over to where she and Jake had been consoling Billy. “I was about to
send out a search party and then remembered you were with Jake. Had to remind
your mother you were safe if you were with him. How are you, son?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake smiled and shook his hand. “As good as can be expected.
How are you and Madeline holding up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Ah, you now the Missus. She’s the strong one of this
family. It would take World War III to rattle that woman’s revolve. It’s
something my dear daughter here picked up.” Mr. Jacobs hugged her before she
had a chance to protest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake nodded and smirked. “So I’ve noticed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Rattled by the turn of the conversation, she’d forgotten to
ask how the hell Jake fit into her family. <i>They talk as if they’ve known
each other for years. I’ve been away for far too long. </i>The fact it had
taken a family tragedy to open her eyes filled her with guilt. She patted Billy
on the back and hugged him again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“There’s my mom now.” He squirmed out of her arms, grabbed
her hand and pulled her toward the woman in question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">His mother, Marah, the second born of the Jacobs clan,
greeted her with a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. If anyone can
make sense out of this thing, you can.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Where’s Bill?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Marah ruffled Billy’s hair and shooed him back toward his
grandfather. “He drove the rest of the kids to McDonald’s. Billy here didn’t
want to go. No sense arguing with him when he gets like that. He’s as stubborn
as you and Ma.” She laughed in spite of the tears that threatened to spill down
he rosy cheeks. “He’s been such a brave boy through this whole thing. He’s
helped out with his brother and sister and the cousins. We’re so proud of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“It’s going to be all right. It has to be. Hold on to that
for Ma and Pop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">As they settled back in the chairs to wait for more news
about Matt, Miranda glanced around the room and counted heads. Michael Jr., the
third born, appeared to be in deep conversation with Jake. She raised her
eyebrow and made a mental note to talk to her brother later. The whole idea
Jake suddenly stopped by her parents’ house took a different twist if her
brother or father had something to do with it. <i>That’s the more likely story.
As at ease as he is with my folks, he would’ve known they were here holding
vigil.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Michael’s wife, Jennifer sat quietly on a large couch and
nursed her baby. Next to her was Miranda’s youngest sister, Melody. She and her
fiancé, Philip were expecting their first child. They were to be married that
Christmas, but knowing the young couple, they would postpone it if need be to
be there for the family. They’d already done so twice because of the passing of
Phillip’s father the year before. <i>Those two need some happy family event.
They’ve already put their lives on hold too many times.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda excused herself from Mara and joined the other
ladies. “How are you guys holding up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Melody rubbed her very pregnant stomach. “As well as can be
expected at the moment. The baby is kicking the hell out of my spleen—at least
that’s what I think it is. She’s going to be athletic like her Uncle Matt. I
think I’ll sign her up for soccer lessons now.” She giggled and grabbed
Miranda’s hand to place over her stomach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Three more swift kicks pummeled her hand. She leaned over
and whispered toward Melody’s stomach. “Hey there, sweetie-pie. It’s your
favorite aunt. You had better let up on your ma’s spleen for a while. How about
going for her bladder? You know how she loves to get up fifty times an hour to
go to the bathroom.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Melody slapped Miranda’s arm. “You devil!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Phillip go with Bill to McDonald’s?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Yes. As you know, hospitals aren’t one of his favorite
places to be so he jumped at the chance for a change of scenery. He didn’t
think one man should be left alone with four kids all under the age of six. You
should have seen them. They left here singing ‘Follow the Yellow Brick Road’.
It was quite a site. Phillip loves kids and can’t wait to be a dad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Well, he’ll get lots of practice before your daughter comes
into the world. What is it? Less than two months away now?” That old familiar
stab of jealousy pierced her heart. She’d wanted a family of her own more than
anything, but even now she found it hard to admit to herself she’d give up all
hope of being a mother while she was in vet school.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Melody placed her hand over Miranda’s and squeezed. “I know
that look. There’s still time for you yet. Just because you didn’t get to
experience this first as our big sister, doesn’t mean it will never happen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Have to have sex for that to happen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Melody laughed. “Well that’s the fun way to do it, but
there’s always the turkey baster.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda snorted. “There’s always that!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Madeline Jacobs, the family matriarch, walked into the room.
Her normally porcelain complexion appeared ghostly white. She tried to be
strong in front of her children, but Miranda could tell she was barely holding
on. Madeline caught her daughter’s eye and attempted to smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda stood and crossed the room in four strides. She
embraced her mother and struggled to hold her composure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Madeline pulled back and brushed the hair from Miranda’s
forehead. “Stop blaming yourself, girl. You couldn’t have prevented this even
if you tried. You know your brother. He’s always in the thick of things. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Did
you know he wanted to be a police officer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">While her mother’s soft Scottish brogue normally eased her
anxiety, this time the words she said raised more questions. She hated being so
far out of the loop where her family was concerned, but she only had herself to
blame. She’d moved away. She’d made her career her focus and made less time for
the people that meant the world to her. <i>No more. I’ve missed so much. Phone
calls and hit or miss weekends just aren’t enough. “</i>When did he decide on
that? The last time we spoke he still hadn’t settled on a major.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Not too long ago, darlin’ He’s been working close with our
friend, Jake over there. He’s been a good influence on your brother and kept
him out of trouble as best he could. Like you, Jake’s feeling guilty over not
being able to protect him from this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda’s stomach churned. The bitter taste of bile hit the
back of her throat and she swallowed several times to force it back down. “What
do you mean? I thought his accident happened at a frat party. How would
Detective Martinelli been able to prevent it from happening?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Madeline’s green eyes blazed. “Well, it seems your brother
was going off to do his own investigative work on a case. The police believe
someone deliberately tried to harm him because he had been snooping around. If
I ever get my hands on the low-life who did this—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Stop, Ma. No point getting all fired up before we know for
sure. We have to let the police handle it.” She’d said the words out loud for
her mother’s benefit as well as her own. The urge to strike out and make <i>someone
</i>pay for hurting her brother grew to frightening levels inside her. <i>Calm
down. No need to make things worse. You need to be strong and keep a cool head
for the family.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The doors to the waiting room opened and a group of doctors
approached. Miranda scanned their faces in an attempt to read their mood, but
came up empty. <i>This can’t be good.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda took her mother’s hand and together they joined her
father, her brother Michael and Jake. The rest of the family gathered around
them. Madeline found her voice first. “Well, what did you fine gentlemen
determine with all your fancy tests? Is my son going to be all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Dr. Moriarity, the Jacobs’ family physician, cleared his
throat. “We have found the swelling of Matt’s brain has stopped and is in fact
decreasing. It’s occurring much faster than we had originally anticipated, so
there’ll be no need for surgery at this time. You’d asked me to be straight
forward and not sugar coat anything for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Go on, Doctor. We can take whatever you have to say.”
Madeline’s grip tightened on Miranda’s hand to the point she lost feeling in
her fingers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“We have no idea how much damage the brain tissue sustained
from the fall. The fracture in his skull is stable and shouldn’t contribute to
any further trauma to the delicate tissue. As far as we can tell, Matt had an
allergic reaction to the Ketamine itself. It triggered the seizure center of
his brain and caused him to lose consciousness before he fell down the stairs.
I wish we had more for you, but we won’t know the full picture of what happened
until he wakes up. <i>If </i>he wakes up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda held her tongue long enough. “Are you saying if he
doesn’t come out of the4 coma soon, there may be a chance he’ll never do it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Dr. Provost, the neurosurgeon, shook his head. “Not exactly.
Even if he wakes up within the next hour, he may still be mentally and or
physically impaired. I’m sorry, but we can offer very little hope at this point
other than to wait and see. We simply can’t determine anything more at this
time. We’re doing all we can. The rest is up to him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She refused to acknowledge the words ‘no hope.’ “Is he on a
respirator?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“No. He’s breathing well on his own. He also responds to
some stimuli at this point. Quite a few of his reflexes are intact, but slow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Her analytical mind took over and kept her rooted to the
spot when all she wanted to do was jump for joy. <i>There is hope! </i>“Thank
you. I’m sorry to be so abrupt with you. I know you’re doing everything you can
for my brother. I need to see him for myself to believe this is actually
happening.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Dr. Moriarity’s brown furrowed with concern. “I must prepare
you. He’s hooked up to a lot of machines. I could come as a shock—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Her blood boiled. “You’ve known my family for over thirty
years and you know me. I won’t waste time reminding you I’m still as stubborn
as I was when I was a teen. I need to be alone with him for a few moments if
you don’t mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He nodded and gestured for her to follow him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda moved to join him but stopped short because of a
gentle touch on her arm from Jake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I’ll be right here if you need me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Her stomach jolted at his unexpected kind words. She’d
forgotten he was there. She had so many questions for him about his
relationship with her brother, but what really caught her by surprise was her
desire to rush into his arms and forget about everything except the two of
them. <i>Good Lord! Get a grip. You just met the man.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Instead of acting on her fantasy, she put her hand over his.
“Thanks. Would you mind sitting with Billy for a bit? I think he could use you
a little more than me at the moment.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Sure, anything to help, Doc.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She smiled. “Randi.” <i>Although the way he says Doc, I
could get used to it. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>* * * *</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eTLMxjx0Srk/U0odTk9ekoI/AAAAAAAAATY/Sd1INP9mg04/s1600/shutterstock_94282738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eTLMxjx0Srk/U0odTk9ekoI/AAAAAAAAATY/Sd1INP9mg04/s1600/shutterstock_94282738.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake squeezed her hand once and pulled his away. “You got
it, Randi.” He watched her square her shoulders and fall in step behind Dr.
Moriarity. Their footsteps echoed down the hallway. Jake turned back toward the
lounge and found Billy off in the corner by himself, crying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He approached the boy and sat next to him. “Hey, your Aunt
Randi asked me to talk to you while she goes in to see Matt. We know more about
what happened. Do you want to hear it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Billy looked up. Tears streamed down his red cheeks. “You don’t
think I’m too young to understand?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Nope.” Jake reached out. Billy turned and collapsed into
his arms. He pulled him onto his lap and rocked the boy until his sobs slowed.
He waved off Marah and signaled the two of them were okay. “You see, someone put
a drug in Matt’s drink at a party. They did it to hurt him. I know you probably
can’t understand why someone would do that, but there are some very bad people
out there; people who don’t care if they hurt anybody else or not as long as
they get what they want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Billy wiped his eyes with the handkerchief Jake handed to
him. “I know there are bad people out there. I know Uncle Matt is a good person
and doesn’t deserve to have things like this happen to him. Grandpa said you’re
trying to find the person who did this. Are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake hugged the boy to his chest. “You bet. I’m not going to
stop until I find out who did this and make sure he goes to jail for a long,
long time. Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Okay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Now you know Matt is in a deep sleep. They call it a coma.
That means he can’t wake up on his own yet because his body had to work so hard
to heal itself. What the doctors just told us is they don’t know when he’s
going to work up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I’m scared he won’t ever wake up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Me too, Billy. It’s okay to be frightened, but you have
your family to help you be strong. We have to do the best we can and send happy
thoughts to Matt. I believe he can hear us when we do that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Even if we can’t tell him in person? They won’t let me in
to see him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake nodded. “Our prayers are taken to him right away. It’s
like your mind is connected to his. He can’t answer back yet, but he hears
every single word. How about we say a prayer together for him?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Can we do a family circle?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.candler.emory.edu/images/landing-page/ConEd%20PrayerCircle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.candler.emory.edu/images/landing-page/ConEd%20PrayerCircle.jpg" height="312" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Marah approached. “I think that’s a great idea, honey.” She
beckoned the rest of the family. All joined hands with Billy and Jake. They
prayed to give Matt the strength to come back to them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake added his own silent prayer to theirs. <i>Please help
me find the people responsible for this so no other family has to go through this
kind of pain ever again.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">* * * *</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: orange;">All Rights Reserves ©Stephanie Ryan 2014</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-26998583064283073682014-04-20T00:28:00.000-07:002014-04-20T00:28:06.785-07:00Happy Easter from @StephRyanAuthor <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/cf/Peter_Cottontail_Peter_Rabbit.jpg/500px-Peter_Cottontail_Peter_Rabbit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/cf/Peter_Cottontail_Peter_Rabbit.jpg/500px-Peter_Cottontail_Peter_Rabbit.jpg" height="443" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Happy Easter everyone! It's been a busy week and I hope today finds you all in a festive mood, ready to spend the day with your family. Mr. Ryan and I have a quiet day at home planned. This year we decided not to do the anything special except spend the day together. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's the season of rebirth and renewal and a time to reflect on how you can change your life for the better. However you choose to celebrate the day, I wish you much love, peace and tranquility.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
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</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>For those of you who've stopped in for the next chapter in my romantic suspense novel <b>Dangerous Medicine</b>, it will be available next week. Edits ran longer than expected. For those of you who haven't read the first four chapters, here are the links. Let me know what you think of the story so far.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/freeread-from-stephryanauthors-debut.html#.U0JF0_ldXNl">Chapter 1</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/chapter-2-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0JID_ldXNk">Chapter 2</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-chapter-3-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0oTCvldXNk">Chapter 3</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-from-stephryanauthor-dangerous.html#.U1NzuvldXNk">Chapter 4</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I'll leave you with one of my favorite commercials while I go on a hunt for my hubby's secret stash of chocolate!</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until next time,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/731B20sSX1w?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-81833985450881715862014-04-12T22:46:00.003-07:002014-04-12T22:46:46.859-07:00#FreeRead from @StephRyanAuthor DANGEROUS MEDICINE Chapter 4 #romantic #suspense<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cNLPE4Q2fCI/U0JG9RM-MJI/AAAAAAAAASI/u8Li9VFV8qE/s1600/Dangerous+Medicine+second+banner.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's that time again! Welcome to Through Stephanie's Eyes and week four in the free read of my debut romantic suspense novel <b><span style="color: #e69138;">Dangerous Medicine</span>.</b> I'm winding down to the last two chapters I'll have up for free. The rest of the story will be included in the full novel released in a few months. </i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>This week we're up to chapter four. If you missed the previous installments, here are the links:</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/freeread-from-stephryanauthors-debut.html#.U0JF0_ldXNl">Chapter 1</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/chapter-2-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0JID_ldXNk">Chapter 2</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/04/freeread-chapter-3-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0oTCvldXNk">Chapter 3</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>To bring you up to speed here's a bit of a summary of the story so far.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>In <b><span style="color: #e69138;">Dangerous Medicine</span></b>, you meet Dr. Miranda Jacobs, a veterinary cardiothoracic surgeon in the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan. Thefts of one of the most common veterinary anesthetics are on the rise resulting in the sale of it on the street as "Special K." Miranda comes face to face with the devastating effects of ketamine when her brother is slipped some at a fraternity party. He has a severe allergic reaction that ultimately puts him into a coma. </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Miranda puts her fast-paced career on hold in order to be with her family at her brother's bedside. It's on the way to the hospital that she literally collides with Detective Jake Martinelli. Sparks fly between them, and Miranda finds herself fiercely attracted to Jake even though she knows very little about him. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Jake Martinelli is nearly knocked off his feet when he meets Miranda for the first time. Normally he'd avoid headstrong, career oriented women like her, but something drew him in like a moth to a flame. She awakened feelings he thought dead a long time ago. He tried to ignore his growing attraction for her while he concentrated on finding the person responsible for putting her brother in the coma, but his mind continued to wonder what it would be like to have her in his bed.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>And now this week's free chapter...</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Chapter
4</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">Miranda grabbed her keys and raced
out the front door with her mother’s travel bag over her shoulder. As soon as
she turned toward her car, she slammed into a six foot wall of solid muscle.
She’d stumbled backward and an angry retort died on her lips. In front of her
stood the one of the hottest men she’d ever seen. He simply oozed raw
sexuality. “Oh, excuse me,” she stammered. “I’m sorry. I’m just on my way out.
Is there something I can do for you?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">Jake flashed a crooked grim. “You
must be Matt’s sister Miranda, the veterinary surgeon. I’ve heard a lot about
you. Now it’s my turn to apologize.” He extended his hand and gripped hers firmly.
“Detective Jake Martinelli. I’m one of the officers investigating what happened
to your brother.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">Her cheeks burned. <i>I must look
like a complete idiot right now, practically drooling over a stranger. </i>She
wondered if this was the same Jake Matt had mentioned on the tape. She hoped
so. It had been a long time since a man smiling at her could make her hands
sweat and her mouth go dry. She liked the felling—a lot. “I…I was just on my
way to join my family at the hospital. Thanks for your concern, but—”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Shouldn’t you get that?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“What?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Your purse is ringing.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She laughed at herself for being so
flustered over a man. “Excuse me a minute. Hello? Pop is that you?” She walked
a few paces away from Jake to talk to her father privately.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Of course it’s me. Didn’t my
smiling face come up on that fancy smart phone of yours? What’s keeping you,
girl? Matt’s tests are done and the doctor’s going to give us the results any
time now.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“I was on my way out the door and
practically ran over a Detective Martinelli. He stopped by to see about Matt.
How come I’ve never heard of him before today?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">Mr. Jacobs chuckled softly. “You’re
very hard to get in touch of you know. Always at work, no time for your family.
How are we supposed to tell you what’s going on if we never see you?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Pop…”She sighed and rolled her
eyes. <i>Not this again.</i></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Never mind that now, just bring
Jake along. He’s your brother’s friend and should be here when the doctors give
us the news. Besides, I think I can trust him with my baby girl.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Will you please stop being so overprotective?
I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“I’m just looking out for you, like
any father would. Now hurry up and get here as soon as you can—but don’t go
driving recklessly!”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Goodbye, Pop.” She disconnected the
call with one tap to the screen and then dropped it back into her purse. She
sighed and then smiled when she turned to find Jake leaning against his Jeep
watching her. “Well, my father vouches for you. I guess that means I can trust
you.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">His deep laughter caused her stomach
to flutter. “Glad to hear it. How about I give you a lift to St. Mary’s? You’ve
driven quite a ways and you must be tired. It would give me a chance to help
out. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She hesitated. “That’s very generous
of you, but…”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Come on. I’ll even turn on the
siren and flashing lights. We’d be there in no time.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She noted the mischievous sparkle in
his eyes and realized he wasn’t kidding about the sirens. “Okay, I’ll ride with
you as long as we do it without all the bells and whistles.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Party pooper.” He took the duffel
bag from her and placed it in the back seat of the vehicle. He whistled. “What
have you got in there? Rocks?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She rolled her eyes and watched his
thigh muscles bulge against his tight jeans as he climbed into the driver’s
seat. “Everyone criticizes my packing.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“I wasn’t criticizing, just making a
comment.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“How about you concentrate on
getting us to the hospital before my father goes out of his mind worrying about
what’s taking us so long?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“As you wish.” He slid his
sunglasses on, threw the Jeep in reverse, and backed out of the driveway.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She caught him sneaking side glances
at her. He appeared to be as nervous as she was next to him. He fumbled with
the radio and grimaced as a myriad of sappy love songs popped up on every
channel.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Hey, turn it back. I like that
song.” </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">He motioned to her that the radio
was all hers. “Go for it.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She found the station he’d passed
by. She sat back in the soft leather seat and closed her eyes. She conjured up
a romantic setting in front of a fireplace somewhere and let the deep melodic
voice of Toni Braxton fill her mind. She looked up into the face of the man in
her daydream. It was Jake. She snapped her eyes open only to find him
concentrating on the road ahead.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She longed for him to look at her and
flash his crooked smile that took her breath away less than a half hour before.
She wanted to get closer to him so she could take in more of his cologne. She
recognized the scent, but couldn’t remember what it was called. The more she
tried to picture the label on the bottle, the more it drove her crazy.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“What’s wrong?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She started and found herself lost
in his eyes. He’d removed his sunglasses now that the sun had set completely.
She tore her eyes away from his long enough to note they’d stopped at a red
light about three miles from the hospital. Her cheeks burned again. <i>Damn it
to hell! </i>“N...nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“You had a strange look on your
face, like you were anywhere but here with me. Thinking about your brother?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She shifted uncomfortably and hoped
he hadn’t noticed the flush blazing across her face, neck and now her chest.
She fought for control and willed the tears to stay away. She lowered her
voice, afraid if the world heard her fear it would make it come true. “I don’t
know what I’ll do if he doesn’t come out of this. I’m absolutely terrified I’m
never going to be able to hear his voice again.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">He didn’t say a word. Instead he
covered her shaking hands with his large callused one. With that simple
gesture, she knew he understood.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">*
* * *</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">He admired her strength. Anyone else
would have completely crumbled when hit with the news she’d received that
afternoon. Michael had hinted she would be this way and keep everything inside
in order to protect the rest of her family. Outward strength or not, he longed
to be the one to take away all of her pain and see her smile light up her
emerald green eyes again.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">The short toots of a car horn
brought him out of his day dreaming with a start.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She smiled. “Now who’s a million
miles away, Detective?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">As he put the Jeep into gear, he
glanced toward her again. “I’m glad I brought a little amusement to your day,
but from now on why don’t we both stick closer to home. Don’t get me wrong.
I’ve enjoyed your company but it’s much too distracting. You have the uncanny
ability to make my mind turn to mush. That’s not good when I’m driving.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She appeared to struggle with
suppressing her laughter. It began as a small giggle, progressed into an all-out
fit complete with tears, and then finished with hiccups. “I’ve never had that
effect on any one. Is that good or bad?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">He pulled into the visitor’s parking
lot and turned off the engine. “You continue to surprise me. I thought I had
you all figured out when we collided in your parents’ driveway. Just who <i>are</i>
you, Dr. Jacobs?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She wiped the tears from her eyes
and stifled a few more giggles and hiccups. “I wish I knew. I’ve been working
on the answer to that question for several years now. I thought I had the
answer once, but I’d been proven wrong in the worst sort of way.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">He nodded. “I have a pretty good
idea what you mean. Why don’t we leave it at that for now, and promise to
continue this conversation later?” He got out of the Jeep and walked over to
the passenger side and helped her out of her seat. He didn’t want to push the
conversation any further—at least not now.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She appeared simultaneously relieved
and disappointed that he didn’t pursue their talk. She paused and held his gaze
for a moment. “Detective?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Jake.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“Jake, thank you for driving. You
helped keep my mind occupied on things other than my brother.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">He shifted from foot to foot,
momentarily uncomfortable.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">She grinned and seemed to take great
pleasure in his squirming. “Any way, thanks for your company.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";">“It was my pleasure, Doc.” He
retrieved the duffel and carried it as they walked toward the hospital entrance.
He sensed it wasn’t easy for her to thank him, or to allow him to carry the bag
for her. In his mind he pictured her at war with herself, fighting the impulse
to snatch it from him and rush into the building on her own. He wondered what
kind of fool had let this woman slip through his fingers. Who hurt her so badly
that she pulled away from life and refused to rely on anyone but herself?</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";"><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Normally he shied away from
headstrong, career oriented women like Miranda Jacobs. They were too much like him
in that regard with no room for a private life outside of the job. However with
her, he recognized something there between them—some sort of pull on his heart
that drew him toward her. She stirred feelings in him he thought were dead a
long time ago. She frightened and fascinated him all at the same time. He
decided there and then, as he watched her walk through the hospital doors, he
would have her in his life. He simply had to.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 16.2pt;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif";"><span style="color: orange;">* * * *</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="color: orange;">All Rights Reserved ©Stephanie Ryan 2014</span></span></b></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-9401534223648120072014-04-07T00:30:00.000-07:002014-04-07T01:12:23.549-07:00#FreeRead: Chapter 3 of the #Romantic #Suspense DANGEROUS MEDICINE by Author @StephRyanAuthor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome back to Through Stephanie's Eyes. This week has been a bit of a whirlwind. Finally, I have Chapter 3 ready for you this week. For those of you who missed the first installments of <b style="color: #e69138;">Dangerous Medicine</b>, you can find them here:</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/freeread-from-stephryanauthors-debut.html#.U0JF0_ldXNl">Chapter 1</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/chapter-2-of-romantic-suspense.html#.U0JID_ldXNk">Chapter 2</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now on to the next chapter. Enjoy!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>Chapter 3</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gC5HnpShQQk/U0JN2k2mYhI/AAAAAAAAASU/QymK0WXgLAM/s1600/shutterstock_105822308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gC5HnpShQQk/U0JN2k2mYhI/AAAAAAAAASU/QymK0WXgLAM/s1600/shutterstock_105822308.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake slowly exhaled as the hot water washed over his taut,
aching muscles. The rhythmic pulsing of the water pounded away at the tension
in his neck, shoulders, and back. His mind wandered back to the night he
offered Matthew Jacobs the opportunity to bust up the gangs of drug dealers
that had invaded the local university campus and surrounding areas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He remembered it as if it were yesterday instead of just
over two years ago. He’d never forget the night Matthew had been arrested for
possession of marijuana. The one time local football hero had appeared to be at
an all-time low. The way he’d walked into the station and his overall demeanor
simply oozed defeat. Jake knew that feeling all too well. His heart had gone
out to Matthew then and he’d come up with a way he could redeem himself in his
own eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">* * * *<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>Two years ago, Saginaw County Police Department</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake rubbed his eyes. He’d spent the last three hours
catching up on paperwork he’d let pile up. He had no one else to blame for it.
He detested writing reports and filling out the endless forms that had always
been a part of the job. If he could con another of his team to do it for him,
he’d have done it in a heartbeat. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Unfortunately, all of them hated it as much
as he did so all of them tackled it on their own. Most kept up with it along
the way—not Jake. He put it off until the absolute last minute every single
time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He looked up from the last form as one of the undercover
city officers walked by with a perp in tow. Jake immediately recognized the
handcuffed co-ed as the one time high school football phenom, Matt Jacobs. He’d
followed the boy’s playing days through the papers and had even caught the last
few games the kid had ever played—including the last that had ended his hopes
of a future in football. <i>There must be some kind of mistake. No way would
this kid be into drugs now. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The officer waved him over. “Mr. Jacobs. This is Detective
Martinelli with the Narcotics Division. He also works closely with the local DEA.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“DEA? Seriously? Does this really have to go this far? I
swear it wasn’t mine.” Matthew visibly paled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Give me a few moments with the detective and then we’ll go
through your story one more time for the record.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew slumped in the chair and nodded. “Take all the time
you need. I’m not going anywhere.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The officer pulled Jake aside and kept his voice low. “I
believe him but since he’s on campus and in the athletic department—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“You thought he’d be of some use to our drug ring
investigation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The officer nodded. “I was going to call you when we got
here, but I see you’re still elbow deep in paperwork.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake laughed. “Just finished the last of it when you got
here. Looks like I’m hanging out a bit longer. Shame to see Mr. Jacobs get a
record for something like this. Let me see if I can convince him to join my
team.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Go for it. I’ll get started on the paperwork in case he
doesn’t take you up on your offer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Don’t worry. He’ll go for it. If he doesn’t, I’ll finish up
his booking myself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The officer laughed. “I’ll let you handle things from here on
then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake returned to the desk and sat down opposite Matthew.
“Mr. Jacobs, I have a proposition for you. I need eyes and ears on campus and
you need for this charge to disappear.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“What are you saying? You want me to be a snitch?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake laughed. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound
like a great idea. I need your help here. If you agree to do it, I can make it
so no one will ever know about this possession charge.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew held up his cuffed hands and glared. “From where I’m
sitting, it sounds like you’re blackmailing me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I am.” Jake held Matthew’s gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew blinked a few times. “You’re kidding me right? Isn’t
this sort of thing illegal?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I don’t know. It’s all in how you look at it. I do know
that having over three ounces of weed in your possession<i> is</i> illegal and
we can book you for it tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“You’re asking me to spy on my friends and classmates and
share that information with you in exchange for not having this go on my
record? Unless I’m mistaken, this state considers possession of any amount of
weed to be a misdemeanor at best. I could just take my chances with the courts
and see if a judge will believe the truth. The pot isn’t mine. I don’t know who
it belongs to. I was the designated driver for and took thirty or more people
home tonight. It could belong to anyone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Then you won’t mind writing down their names and
addresses.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know damn well the program
doesn’t work that way. If the students need a ride home, we provide it. No
questions asked. I don’t know the names of over half of the people who were in
my car tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake held back a smile. <i>He’s good. He knows I can’t force
him into this deal. Better come up with a better angle. </i>“A drug charge—even
a misdemeanor won’t look good to your employer. You’re an assistant coach for
the SVSU football team right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew closed his eyes and hung his head. “Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I’m not asking you to spy on people, Matt. All I ask is you
keep your eyes and ears open. If you see or hear anything suspicious, I’d
appreciate the head’s up. It’s our job to investigate every tip and lead, no
matter how insignificant it may seem. You’re in a position of authority.
Students already come to you for help. Some may be afraid to come to us
directly with information. You could help with that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew sighed. “I understand what you’re saying, Detective.
It still feels like I have no other choice here. If I don’t agree to help you,
I’ll be charged. Before Monday, word of my arrest will be all over campus and
in the local papers. I can see the headlines now. <i>Local Football Hero Turns
to Drugs to Get Over Loss of Future NFL Career.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake winced. <i>The kid is too hard on himself. Just like I
was at his age. </i><b>“</b>Nothing has to leave this station. We come up with
a cover story. You’re studying criminal justice, right?” He stood to remove the
cuffs from Matthew’s wrists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Yeah. Thought about being a cop—” He rubbed his wrists
where the cuffs had chaffed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“This experience could help you figure out if you really
want to be one or not. You could tell people you’re doing research. What do you
say? Is it a deal?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew nodded. “Okay. I’ll accept your blackmail terms on
one condition.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake chuckled. “And what’s the condition?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“You’ll be the one to explain to my folks why I didn’t call
to let them know I’d be out late. By now my mother has called all of my
brothers and sisters as well as all of my friends to be sure I’m not lying in a
ditch dead somewhere.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“That bad, huh?” <i>That clinches it. He is a younger
version of me, right down to worrying the shit out of his mother.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>“</i>Oh you don’t know the half of it. She has all the
hospitals on speed dial and I’m sure she’ll call the station any time now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The officer who had brought Matthew into the station, strode
across the room. “There’s a Madeline Jacobs on the line wishing to report a
missing person. Says her son would never be out this late without calling her.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake laughed. “It’s all good. I’ll talk to her and apologize
for keeping her son so late. The research for his class project got a bit more
detailed than we had planned.” He winked and handed the phone over to </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew.
“Go ahead and prove you’re alive. I’ll talk to her when you’re done and promise
to get you home in one piece.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew grinned and picked up the phone. “Ma? Yes, it’s me.
I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>* * * *</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">That had been the beginning of a friendship that Jake had
come to cherish. To him, Matthew was the little brother he’d always wished he
had. They shared many of the same interests and Jake recognized much of himself
in Matthew, albeit a much younger and more naive self than he’d cared to admit.
Even his choice of a career in law enforcement had mirrored his own. The more
time the two of them spent together, the easier it was to see Matthew as a
friend and colleague. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake had allowed their friendship to cloud his better
judgment when Matthew had asked him to let him in on a case involving the date
rape of a college student six months ago. She’d been one of the assistant
caches for the girls’ basketball team. Jake knew Matthew was too close to the
case and should have kept him as far from the files as possible. Instead he
allowed him access to the police reports, and the officers in charge of the
case had included Matthew in some of their brainstorming sessions on how to
proceed with the case. They had treated him as the campus liaison he’d become,
but forgot he was also human and a good friend to the girl who had been
attacked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Much of the evidence against the fraternity boys accused of
the crime had been circumstantial at best. She’d been brought into the
emergency room unconscious. The toxicology report of her blood revealed she’d
been given a nearly fatal dose of ketamine. Luckily, the person who had found
her new CPR and had been able to give her mouth to mouth breathing until the
EMTs had arrived.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The girl had regained consciousness a week later to discover
she’d not only been drugged, but had been the victim of rape as well. The ER
doctor on duty had ordered a rape kid performed when the girl had been
admitted. The doctor’s hunch had been correct. Thankfully they’d collected
enough samples to run DNA analysis on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jeqxepuZdE8/U0JTC4rXekI/AAAAAAAAASs/qvpnZzTOjCI/s1600/DNA+sampling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jeqxepuZdE8/U0JTC4rXekI/AAAAAAAAASs/qvpnZzTOjCI/s1600/DNA+sampling.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Lawyers for the accused had delayed the collection of
samples from their clients as long as they could. Eventually all six of them
showed up at the police station to donate under the watchful eyes of their
parents, lawyers and several police officers. Just last week, the police and
prosecutors got the break they’d been hoping for—conclusive evidence all six
suspects had sex with the victim.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Unfortunately, the lawyers intervened yet again. They had
all six out of jail on bond within hours of their arrest. So far each attempt
at setting a trial date had been thwarted. Delay after delay had begun to take
its toll on everyone, including Matthew.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>“Why do these assholes get to walk around free when
you’ve done everything by the book? The DNA matches. My friend nearly died
because these animals thought it would be fun to spike her drink and screw her
while she lay there unconscious and unable to defend herself. They took away
her right to say no.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>Jake shook his head. “It’s not fair, but they will pay
for what they did to your friend, Matt. I promise.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>“I can’t sit around here right now. If this is what it’s
like to be a cop, I don’t know if I want to do it anymore. I need some time
away from everything to think things through. School, work, the student-police
liaison work—all of it is just too much for me right now.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Take all the time you need. Just so you know—you’re not
alone. All of us go through these doubts all the time in our profession. What
keeps us going are the cases where we do make a difference. You’ve made a
difference since you’ve started working with us. Don’t forget that.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake mentally kicked himself for not recognizing how angry
and disappointed Matthew had become in the justice system. Three days after
their last conversation, Matthew was in a coma, victim of the same drug that
nearly killed the basketball coach. <i>I should have known he’d take matters
into his own hands. Hell, I’d do the same thing if roles were reversed.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He dressed quickly and grabbed his phone from the charger.
He scrolled through the missed calls and let out the air from his lungs. No
calls or texts from the Jacobs family. “No news is better than bad news. Time
to head over to their house and convince a woman I’ve never met I’m there to
drive her to the hospital.” He glanced at his reflection in the mirror in his
entryway. “At least I won’t scare the shit out of her right off the bat. Let’s
just hope she doesn’t kick me in the nuts and run off screaming.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>* * * *</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda pulled into her parents’ driveway just after six
o’clock. An eerie feeling washed over her as she entered the front door. No
noises reached her ears. Nothing. With all the children and grandchildren
running in and out of the house all the time, the silence that overwhelmed her
now gave her the chills.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She decided to take her father’s advice and raid the
refrigerator after all. With very little effort, she found the fixings for a
turkey sandwich on whole wheat, a banana and her favorite chocolate milk. She
settled down at the breakfast bar to feed her now growling stomach. Out of the
corner of her eye, she noted the light flashing on the ancient answering
machine. She reached across the counter and pushed the play button.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Hey, it’s me. Just called to tell you that I’ll be home
late, so Pop, don’t wait up.” Matthew’s voice resonated throughout the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She nearly fainted. She clutched the counter top and
listened to the rest of the message.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Tomorrow, let’s see if we can get Randi to take a few days
off to visit. I want her to meet Jake. I think she’d like him. Well, better go
now. Love ya!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Her hand shook as she rewound the message and played it
again. <i>Thank God my parents still love the old technology. </i>She searched
the cabinet for a blank tape and then placed it in the machine. She put the
other with her brother’s voice on it in her purse. She’d give it to her mother
at the hospital. <i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Shit!” She glanced at the clock and berated herself for
wasting time. She gulped down the last of her milk and put the dishes in the
sink. She ran up the stairs to her parents’ room. She had less than two hours
now before visiting hours were over and she needed to see her brother for
herself before she’d believe anything more about his condition. <i>Hang on,
little brother. I’m coming! </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">* * * *</span></i></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: orange;">All Rights Reserved @Stephanie Ryan 2014</span></i></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: orange;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Thank you for stopping by this week. Let me know what you think of the story so far. Chapter 4 is up next within the next two weeks. Come back and visit again!</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until next time,</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-40723187256781945202014-03-29T01:43:00.000-07:002014-04-07T00:52:23.116-07:00Chapter 2 of the #Romantic #Suspense DANGEROUS MEDICINE #FreeRead <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OZzWayj5waM/Uy-iZXdQcrI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/qpD_eWBM9O8/s1600/dangerous+medicine+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OZzWayj5waM/Uy-iZXdQcrI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/qpD_eWBM9O8/s1600/dangerous+medicine+banner.jpg" height="475" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome back to Through Stephanie's Eyes. I'm excited to share the next chapter of my debut romantic suspense novel, <span style="color: orange; font-weight: bold;">Dangerous Medicine. </span>If you're just joining me this week, you can catch up on <a href="http://www.stephanieryanauthor.com/2014/03/freeread-from-stephryanauthors-debut.html#.UzZ4B_ldXNk">CHAPTER 1</a> before you move on to Chapter 2 below.<span style="color: orange; font-weight: bold;"> </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: orange; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>To recap: Dr. Miranda Jacobs received devastating news about your youngest brother. He had been slipped a drug in a drink at a party and was now in a coma. The doctors aren't sure of the extent of his injuries yet. She's on her way to the hospital to be with her family at his bedside.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Jake Martinelli is a narcotics detective and works closely with the local DEA agents. He's a friend to Miranda's brother. He too is getting ready to head up to the hospital to check on his friend and hopefully find some clues as to who put the boy in the hospital in the first place.</i></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Chapter 2<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda found Leigh Ann waiting for her when she finally returned.
She didn’t bother to hide the worry that filled her eyes and furrowed her brow.
Miranda knew Leigh had good reason to look the way she did. Miranda had never
lost her composure at work and must have freaked out the rest of the staff as
well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Doc, you need to sit back down and get yourself together
before you do anything else.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda had started to protest, but Leigh Ann already had a
hold of her elbow and guided her through the doorway of the office. <i>Thank
God! Someone removed all traces of food. I don’t think I’d be able to make it
back to the bathroom if another wave of nausea hit. </i>“I have to get out of
here now. My family needs me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The other woman raised her hand to silence Miranda. “Already
got it covered. Dr. Marks and Dr. Carron will be in within the hour to take
over your caseload and see the new patients today. Dr. Overland is due at any
minute so you can talk to him about your leave of absence. I’m sure there won’t
be a problem, but he’d take all of this much better if it came straight from
you. He’s always had a soft spot for you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda smiled. “He puts up a good front, but he’s just a
big teddy bear.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Only with you. Now sit back and relax until he gets here.
You’ve trained all of us well. We know what to do and can handle anything
thrown at us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Thanks, Leigh. You guys are fabulous. What would I do
without you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Let’s hope neither of us has to find that out any time
soon.” Leigh Ann squeezed Miranda’s shoulder as she left the office and quietly
closed the door behind her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VuKErfyPEew/UzZ7AoNLq3I/AAAAAAAAARY/NNC1ETAM7Xk/s1600/shutterstock_89948917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VuKErfyPEew/UzZ7AoNLq3I/AAAAAAAAARY/NNC1ETAM7Xk/s1600/shutterstock_89948917.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Instead of taking it easy, Miranda immersed herself into the
patient files on her desk. Within two hours she’d completed her notes for each
case, reviewed them with her staff and the other cardiologists, and arranged
for an indefinite leave from the hospital. Dr. Overland was more than happy to
agree to her request. After all, she’d practically lived at the hospital for
the last three years. He told her it was the least he could do for her and made
her promise to let him know if she needed more time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda had worked hard to achieve her current status at the
Michigan Veterinary Specialty Center. Her plan had been to sit for the board
exam for certification in June—only nine months away. With all her dreams so
close to being realized, she had to wonder if there was some evil plot out to
ruin her life. Of course, the logical part of her brain dismissed the
ridiculous idea, but it was a hell of a lot easier to believe than the truth.
Matthew’s condition was senseless and her scientific mind wouldn’t accept it.
She had to have an answer. <i>Why my brother? What did he ever do to deserve
this?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She blamed herself and her obsession with her career. If
she’d only been there for him when his friend was attacked, maybe he’d be home
playing with all his nieces and nephews right now instead of lying in a
hospital bed. At thirty years old, Miranda was the youngest veterinarian to
achieve the recognition as one of the best in her field, not only in the state,
but in the country. She’d thrown her entire being into her career, often at the
expense of any personal life. Her only escape had been her ever-growing family.
They brought her great joy—and sadness at the same time. Her siblings had the
things she lacked—marriage, children and the family life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She was the eldest of five children. All the others had gone
on to raise families of their own except Matthew. His life had only just begun.
Now it appeared as if he might lose it before he reached his twenty-second
birthday. Miranda pushed the thought to the back of her mind, gathered up her
personal belongings and left the busy hospital behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>* * * *</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake strode through his cluttered apartment to his bathroom.
He stripped out of his street clothes. Seeing his reflection in the full-length
mirror on the door startled him. He’d always hated the way other officers and DEA agents had
looked after coming off long undercover cases…all strong out and rough around
the edges. That’s exactly the vision that stared back and it wasn’t a pretty
picture at all. <i>What the hell’s happened to me? How did I let things get
this bad?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He turned on the shower to warm it up a bit and then set
himself down to the task of removing the beginnings of a grizzly beard from his
face. He laughed as he remembered the first time he met Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs. It
was at an alumni barbecue before the Saginaw Valley State Homecoming game a
year ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>Jake smiled as Mrs. Jacobs checked him out from head to
toe and shook her head.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>“Go home and shave that sorry excuse of a beard you have
trying to grow there.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>Matthew choked on his drink and nearly spit it all over
them. “Ma! You just met the guy. Maybe you could give him a few minutes to get
settled in on the bleachers before you start telling him how to change his
appearance.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>Jake laughed. “It’s okay, Matt. Go ahead, Mrs. Jacobs
tell me how you really feel. Anything else I should change?”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><i>“You can keep the long hair and your earrings. I’m a bit
partial to those, but that beard has to go!”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Matthew had warned him she was blunt, but Jake hadn’t minded
at all. From the moment he heard her voice, she’d reminded him of his own
mother who had died ten years earlier. Rosa Martinelli had fought a long, hard
battle against breast cancer. She had gone into a five year long remission
before the cancer had returned and ravaged her body in less than six months.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake had been by her side the entire time, and had refused
to abandon the one person who had been a constant in his life. Rosa had been the
only one there for him after he found his ex-wife, Amy in bed with his
childhood friend, David.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Rosa had put up the bail to get him released from jail after
he was arrested for beating David to a bloody pulp that night. David had never
pressed charges. He had claimed he didn’t want to hurt Jake any further. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Amy was a different story. She’d blamed Jake for the affair.
She was lonely and he was never there; same old sob story excuse people give
for cheating on a spouse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_j6qyX2cAwQ/UzZ7q-V2QOI/AAAAAAAAARg/Vs-dRuwyNB8/s1600/DEA+SWAT+Team.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_j6qyX2cAwQ/UzZ7q-V2QOI/AAAAAAAAARg/Vs-dRuwyNB8/s1600/DEA+SWAT+Team.jpg" height="177" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">It had been all well and good when his long hours as a
rookie cop brought home the income to pay the bills for everything she’d needed
to make their house a <i>proper home. </i>She had never complained when he was
promoted to detective and then transferred to the Narcotics Division because it had meant more
money. Lord knows she hadn’t wanted to work to work outside the home to help
out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Jake had encouraged her over and over again to try out some
classes at SVSU so she could finish the degree she’d started before they were
married. She’d refused, always quick with an excuse to avoid it. She had worked
several different part-time jobs; none of them had lasted more than six months.
Her reason for quitting all of them had been the same each time. She had become
bored with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">It had been an ailing Rosa who had stuck by Jake through the
entire messy divorce and settlement that had lasted nearly two years. Amy had
tried to claim she had given up her chances at a degree and career when she’d
married Jake in order to put <i>him </i>through school. The judge had seen
through her fabrications but it was Rosa’s testimony that had finally ended the
entire mess. The judge had ruled Amy wasn’t entitled to any alimony and could
only receive thirty percent of the proceeds from the sale of their home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Of course, that had only infuriated Amy further. She’d tried
to tie up everything in court with appeals, but eventually it had all ended.
Jake had found himself single, more than a little bitter, and betrayed by his
best friend. Less than two months later, Jake had become an orphan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">After his mother’s funeral, Jake had thrown himself into his
work. He had preferred the most dangerous undercover operations, those that
allowed him to completely forget who he was and that he was all alone in the
world. Weeks of restless nights and dreams of his mother telling him to snap
out of it had eventually worn him down and he change the direction of his
career once again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">He had requested to be assigned to head up the investigation
of the drug dealing rings in Bay City, Saginaw, and Midland—The Tri-County
area. Jake enjoyed his new position and now felt he made a difference each time
he brought down a dealer. He knew his mother would have been proud of his new
lease on life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I’ll find who did this to you, Matt. I won’t stop until I
do. Momma would expect nothing less of me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>* * * *</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda had barely held her composure while she weaved in
and out of the afternoon traffic. Somehow she had made it to her apartment in
one piece. Her cats, Hercules and Xena, greeted her at the door as usual.
Seeming to sense her distress, they followed her around and watched her every
move, careful to stay out of her way to avoid being stepped upon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">While she threw a few pieces of clothing into her overnight
bag, she allowed the tears to fall. “You’ve got to get a grip on yourself. If
you can’t keep control in private, how the hell are you going to do it with the
family?” She brushed the tears from her face and resumed her packing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">A knock on her door interrupted her and brought her back
from the edge. She squinted through the peep hole to find her elderly neighbor,
Mrs. Turner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Dr. Jacobs? Are you all right dear?” Mrs. Turner was a
retired nurse who had befriended Miranda right </span><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">after she’d moved in. She lived
alone and enjoyed Miranda’s company from time to time. Miranda had come to
think of her as a dear friend, one she needed right now.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Miranda opened the door and Mrs. Turner immediately embraced
her. “Come over to the couch and sit down, honey. Whatever has you so upset?
You’re never home this early and you left your keys in the door. That’s not
like you at all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“It’s my baby brother. He’s in a coma. Someone slipped a
drug into his drink. I got the news at work. I don’t know any other details
about Matt’s condition.” She took the tissues Mrs. Turner offered her and wiped
her eyes. “I can’t stand to be so far away. I feel useless. I hate to ask you
this but—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Mrs. Turner patted Miranda’s hands. “Don’t you worry about a
thing. I’ll make sure your little rascals are well cared for. Lord knows they
brighten my day watching them run about. Your place is with your family now.
Come on, let’s finish packing and get you on the road. You know how traffic can
be this time of day, and your family has enough to worry about without you
trying to kill yourself speeding along the interstate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">After one last hug and a handful of tissues from Mrs.
Turner, Miranda jogged down the steps and out to her car. She tossed her bags
into the trunk and finally slid behind the wheel of her red Saturn. She wanted
to get through the city and on Northbound I-75 as fast as she could before four
o’clock—the peak of rush hour in the Down River area. If she could then get
past Royal Oak by five, she would make good time. However, getting through it
all in time before vising hours ended was going to be a challenge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Four red lights, five tail-gaiters, and two near collisions
later, she expertly changed lanes and merged with the high-speed drivers on the
interstate. She glanced down at her hands and realized she was white-knuckled
from gripping the steering wheel. She’d driven this stretch of road hundreds if
not thousands of times, and had never been so worked up with fear. The pain in
her gut reminded her of what she wouldn’t allow her mind to comprehend. No
matter what she did, how fast she drove, she was going to be too late, and
she’d lose Matt forever without being able to say goodbye one last time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand
and then reached to turn on her CD player. She cranked up the volume as Nirvana
boomed through the speakers. The disk was a birthday gift from Matthew. She’d
never really like the band before, but at his insistence, she’d tried it out.
She had been surprised to find she enjoyed it—especially while driving. As the
fast-paced guitars and booming back beat filled her ears, she stepped on the
accelerator.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Before long, she had passed the exits for the Palace of
Auburn Hills. The sun was at a point in the sky now it created a glare off the
semi-truck in front of her, and heated up the left side of her body. As she
slowed down just enough to change lanes, she noticed the hills surrounding the
freeway. The leaves had started to turn and revealed small bursts of brilliant
reds and yellows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fH3XVb7tJUQ/UzZ8q9IYxmI/AAAAAAAAAR0/uir_VeJZm8M/s1600/shutterstock_5294767.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fH3XVb7tJUQ/UzZ8q9IYxmI/AAAAAAAAAR0/uir_VeJZm8M/s1600/shutterstock_5294767.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">As the miles flew by, and the colors intensified, he mind
flooded with childhood memories. She had forgotten how much she and her family
enjoyed this time of year. Matt had played football since he was nine years
old. The entire family had gone to every game to cheer him on. A nasty knee
injury in the homecoming game of his senior year in high school had ended his
hopes of a football scholarship to the University of Michigan, but not his love
of the game. He was an assistant coach at SVSU now. Her parents still never
missed one of the games, often taking their grandchildren to cheer for their
Uncle Matt’s team.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">The persistent chirping of her cell phone brought her out of
her reminiscing. She hoped it wasn’t her office calling. She’d told them she
was going to be unavailable that evening. She kept her eyes on the road and
pushed the button on her ear piece to pick up the call. “Okay, this had better
be good. I’m right in the middle of major traffic nightmare.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Is that any way to answer the phone?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She laughed out loud when she heard the gruff and gravelly
voice. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m not really in a terrific mood at the moment. Traffic
has slowed to a crawl now. What can I do for you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“Well, your mother wanted me to call and tell you not to
race up her in order to get to the hospital to sit with Matt. He’s been taken
down for another CT scan or MRI or whatever the hell they call it. Just be
careful and get her in one piece.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She smiled and shook her head. She knew it was her father
who worried about her driving. She held back a giggle. He would deny he called
her all on his own. Her mother knew Miranda could take care of herself. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“What
about visiting hours? Don’t they kick everyone out at eight?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She heard her father’s rumbling chuckle loud and clear
through the mild static coming through her blue tooth. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“They can just try to
kick us out. You know your mother. She’s already made up the bed next to Matt’s
and has refused to leave his side for one instant. The rest of the family is
arriving now. We’ve got the staff outnumbered by at least a dozen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“I get the picture. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do you
need anything from the house? I’m about five minutes from there now. I could
get off at the next exit if you want me to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">“That would be great, Randi. If you could bring up a change
of clothes for your mother and some toiletries, we should be fine. We’ve all
had dinner, so you make sure you raid the fridge while you’re there too. I know
you haven’t eaten. Don’t try to tell me any different, young lady. Okay then,
now that that’s said, I’ll let you get back to driving recklessly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">She hung up, quickly changed lanes and exited the freeway. She
rolled down her window to let in some fresh air and immediately regretted it.
Her nose was assaulted with the pungent aroma of pig manure. She laughed. She
had forgotten it was time to coat the fields with the fertilizer. This was
definitely one thing she didn’t miss after she had moved out of her parents’
home ten years before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">* * * *<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: orange;"><b>All Rights Reserved ©Stephanie Ryan 2014</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Thank you for stopping in today. I hope you enjoyed this installment. Next week is Chapter 3 and we get to learn more about Jake and Matt's relationship and Miranda gets to meet Jake face to face. Will sparks fly or will something come between them right from the start? Stay tuned!</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until next week,</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-61979721558817875322014-03-23T21:10:00.000-07:002014-03-23T22:58:09.314-07:00#FreeRead from @StephRyanAuthor's Debut #Romantic #Suspense Novel DANGEROUS MEDICINE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome to the very first installment of my free read here on Through Stephanie's Eyes. Thank you to all who participated in the poll. <b style="color: #e69138;">Dangerous Medicine</b> was the overwhelming winner. To celebrate, I decided to offer the first five chapters here as a free read. Later in the summer, the entire book will be published by Sassy Vixen Publishing.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>In <b style="color: #e69138;">Dangerous Medicine</b>, you meet Dr. Miranda Jacobs, a veterinary cardiothoracic surgeon in the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan. Thefts of one of the most common veterinary anesthetics are on the rise resulting in the sale of it on the street as "Special K." Miranda comes face to face with the devastating effects of ketamine when her brother is slipped some at a fraternity party. He has a severe allergic reaction that ultimately puts him into a coma. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Miranda puts her fast-paced career on hold in order to be with her family at her brother's bedside. It's on the way to the hospital that she literally collides with Detective Jake Martinelli. Sparks fly between them, and Miranda finds herself fiercely attracted to Jake even though she knows very little about him. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Without giving away anymore of the story, here's the first chapter of <span style="color: orange;"><b>Dangerous Medicine.</b></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: orange;"><b><br /></b></span></i></span>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Chapter 1<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cyEAXjTg1VA/Uy-rtKXshlI/AAAAAAAAAQo/iLnTwUXGzHo/s1600/surgery+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cyEAXjTg1VA/Uy-rtKXshlI/AAAAAAAAAQo/iLnTwUXGzHo/s1600/surgery+photo.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Okay, I think we’re ready to close now. Vicryl with the
three-quarter inch needle please.” Miranda Jacobs deftly closed the muscle and
skin layers then handed the instruments back to the intern who assisted her
with the surgery. “I think you can handle it from here, Jordan.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">The newest intern appeared to barely be able to hold in her
excitement. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dr. Jacobs. I’ll take good care
of her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Miranda smiled behind her surgical mask. Jordan had followed
her around every waking moment for the last few weeks and had demonstrated she
was ready to take on more responsibility. Miranda remembered her intern days
well. She didn’t get to be one of the best up and coming veterinary cardiologists in
the state without countless hours in the ER and recovery room with her
patients. When she noticed the same drive in an intern, she immediately took
them under her wing, as her own mentor had done with her. It was Miranda’s way
of giving back to the profession that had quickly become her passion and her
entire world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">In this particular case, Jordan had more than earned her
spot next to Miranda ligating the patent ductus of the tiny eight month old
Maltese puppy. Not only did she handle all the pre-operative workup, Jordan
took the time to create special handouts for the owners about what would happen
during the surgery and recovery for their pet. She won over the clients as well
as the staff with her attention to detail and confidence in her surgical abilities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Miranda backed away from the table, pulled off the sterile
surgical gown and winked over the top of her glasses. “Don’t thank me yet. We
still have four procedures to do this afternoon and a full outpatient schedule.
Make sure you grab a bit to eat when you’re through.” She left the surgical
suite and removed her cap and mask in in one motion. Her naturally curly,
auburn hair tumbled down over her shoulders. Much to her chagrin, it was very
unruly this morning. She searched her locker for a clip to pull it back away
from her face. She sighed at her reflection in the small mirror on her locker
door. Stray curls haphazardly framed her face. “I guess that will have to do
for now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1LRx2sdQLAY/Uy-pyNfjAcI/AAAAAAAAAQc/iL1ehgTuxNI/s1600/shutterstock_120690070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1LRx2sdQLAY/Uy-pyNfjAcI/AAAAAAAAAQc/iL1ehgTuxNI/s1600/shutterstock_120690070.jpg" height="346" width="400" /></a><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">She grabbed her white lab coat and slipped it on over her
dark green surgical scrubs as she walked down the short hallway to her office.
The rest of her staff had already gathered and waited for her to begin their
lunch meeting. “Oh, what angel got the pizza?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Leigh Ann, Miranda’s head technician, smiled. “We knew if we
left it up to you, you would stay in surgery all day while the rest of us
starved.” She passed a plate with two massive pieces of pizza loaded with meat
and gooey cheese. She shook her head and laughed. “I don’t know how you can eat
so much junk food and look like you just stepped off a runway during Fashion
Week in New York.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Miranda scrunched up her nose, stuck out her tongue and
snatched the plate from Leigh Ann’s hands. She took a large bite out of one of
the slices, closed her eyes and sighed. “Mmmm, this is absolute heaven. Tell
you what. When you have as many nieces and nephews to chase after as I do,
you’ll learn to eat whatever you have to eat in order to keep up with them.
Can’t serve salad and soup to them and still keep favorite aunt status now can
I?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Leigh Ann’s laugher joined that of the rest of the group in
the room. “I guess not. Now sit yourself down. This will probably be the only
time you get to do so today with the look of the schedule.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Miranda kicked off her shoes then plopped down into the overstuffed
chair in front of her desk. She pulled her legs under herself and pushed
several files out of the way to make room for her plate. “Go ahead. Let’s get
this party rollin’.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Leigh Ann handed Miranda a bottle of water and cleared her
throat. “You have four patients in the hospital slated to go home today. All
have recovered well from their surgeries this weekend. Jordan is in
Recovery with the Klein Maltese now. So far, so good. The patient is already up
and moving around. Your next surgery is at two o’clock…the thoracic tumor. Here
are the preliminary findings of the needle biopsy. They’re going over the
slides one more time but it looks like another lymphoma.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Miranda flipped through the patient’s chart and added the
histopathology report to her own notes. She sighed. “I had hoped we’d be
dealing with a benign mass this time. I’m not looking forward to cracking open
this dog’s chest again. Let’s hope this will be the last—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">The loud ring of her cell phone pierced the quiet of the
room. Miranda jumped at the unexpected sound. Very few people had the number
and one of them sat wide eyed in front of her. <i>Please let everything be all
right. </i>She forced a wave of anxiety and nausea back down deep in her gut.
The photo on the screen told her the call was from Michael Jacobs Jr. “Hello?
What’s wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">The voice on the other end swore softly. The deep baritone
of the older of her two brothers came through loud and clear and did little to
calm her. “How do you know there’s something wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Michael, no one ever calls me at work just to chat,
especially not on my cell. What’s wrong?” Miranda’s heart pounded. “Is it the
baby?” His youngest had been sick with a nasty cough the last weekend she’d
been able to visit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">He sighed. “No honey. It’s not one of the kids. It’s Matt.
He’s been taken to St. Mary’s. We need you to come home right away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Her stomach dropped. The pizza long forgotten as the fear
took over. Good thing she was already seated, otherwise she’d have crumpled to
the floor in a heap. Leigh Ann herded everyone out of the office to give her
more privacy. “Matthew?” She found it hard to say anything more as her throat
constricted. “Wh…what happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“I don’t know, Randi. Pop said Matt went to some frat party
last night with a bunch of friends. They said he had a seizure, fell down some
stairs and cracked his skull.” Michael’s voice broke and Miranda could tell he
was trying hard not to cry. “He’s in a coma. Please come home. Mom and Pop need
you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Her mind reeled. “He’s never had seizures before. Something
must have been slipped into his drink. No one has a seizure out of the blue.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“The doctors found something called ketamine in his system.
Besides the effects of the drug, they think he had a bad allergic reaction to
it and that’s why he seized. Isn’t that a veterinary drug? How the hell did
that get into a beer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Oh God, Michael.” Miranda sighed deeply as she remembered
the letter from the Drug Enforcement Agency sent out to all the veterinary
clinics earlier in the year. “People have been stealing it from veterinarians
and selling it on the street as something called Special K. The police have dubbed
it the latest date rape drug.” Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. She
struggled to ask more questions, but her mind wouldn’t form the right words. <i>I
don’t understand this at all. None of it makes any sense.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Just come home, Randi. I know you have a loaded schedule
and all, but we need you here to help explain what’s going on with Matt. We’re
staying at the house, kids and all. It’s a bit crowded, but I think we have to
be together now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“I’ll be home tonight.” Miranda dropped her phone on her
desk. Her legs felt too wobbly to hold her up, but when she looked at the
half-eaten pizza on her desk, her stomach rebelled. She bolted out of her seat
and barley made it to the bathroom in time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">* * * *<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-geT5onIcPkI/Uy-skdQcEBI/AAAAAAAAAQw/OhSuD_nU2UQ/s1600/shutterstock_99421010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-geT5onIcPkI/Uy-skdQcEBI/AAAAAAAAAQw/OhSuD_nU2UQ/s1600/shutterstock_99421010.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Martinelli, you’ve got to stop blaming yourself for what
happened to the Jacobs kid. You didn’t send him in there. He went in on his
own. He told you himself he wanted to nail the creeps responsible for the date
rape of his friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Jake rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion had crept in while he
wasn’t looking. He’d slept very little since he’d received the call. Matthew
Jacobs, one of his informants at the local university for the last two years,
had fallen into a coma. “I know, Lieutenant, but I can’t stop feeling I
should’ve been able to protect him—maybe kept a closer eye on him. Hell, I knew
he was chomping at the bit to bring down those frat boys. I just thought he
would use his brain and let the police handle it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Hey, the kid had never given you a reason to think he would
go vigilante on you. He’d been a great source of information for your
investigations of the dealers on campus. He didn’t get this involved with any
of the other cases, so how could you have seen it with this one?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">The look on the Lieutenant’s face told Jake all he needed to
know and he was right. Jake knew he’d become too close to the Jacobs boy and
should be removed from the case, but one way or another he’d be involved. He’d
turn the city upside down, rattle every informant and thug he knew until he
found the one who had put his young friend in the hospital—even if it cost him
his badge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Why don’t you get out of here? Take a few days off. Go
visit the kid in the hospital. Your caseload will keep and I’m sure his family
would like to see you. From what I hear, they’re really fond of you—especially
his mother.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“I doubt any of them will feel that way when they find out
I’m the one who put their son in danger in the first place. I should’ve never
told him any of the details of the case against the frat boys.” He filled his
lungs and slowly let the air out again. “I’ll take you up on the time off and
call you when I know more about Matt’s condition.” He stood up, grabbed his
leather jacket from the back of his chair and strolled out of the office. Outside, the sun had set low in the sky, but the resulting fireball still
refused to give up without a fight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">For once he was grateful to have an excuse to don his retro
mirrored sunglasses. The glare from the setting sun never bothered him, but the
tears that filled his eyes did. He hated the overwhelming feeling of
helplessness that had flooded through him all day. As he slipped behind the
wheel of his Jeep Cherokee, he found himself at a loss as to where to go first.
He had wanted to stop by the hospital before visiting hours were over for the
night, but he didn’t know if he would be able to face the entire Jacobs clan
all at once.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Matt had told him all about his large, close-knit family.
Jake had never had that kind of family life himself. He’d married young, and
after only three years and a messy divorce, he’d managed to remain single ever
since. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to have a family of his own, but he’d
never seemed to have the time to look for his soul mate. After his ex-wife had
run off with his best friend, he’d turned a bit gun shy about opening his heart
up to another woman again. He’d grown to like being an over forty-year-old
loner with no one to answer to if he’d have to work late or just wanted to hang
out all day in his sweats while he watched football on the sports channels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x3qU9V9f_2s/Uy-tuKBq2JI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/PDNIFyIjaEk/s1600/eyes+in+a+rearview+mirror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x3qU9V9f_2s/Uy-tuKBq2JI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/PDNIFyIjaEk/s1600/eyes+in+a+rearview+mirror.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">He looked into the rear view mirror and then rubbed the
two-day-old stubble that covered his jawline. He didn’t recognize the man that
stared back at him. His dark brown eyes appeared bloodshot from lack of sleep,
and his long wavy black hair refused to stay tied back with the leather thong knotted at his neck. “Well, ain’t you a beauty.” Jake turned the key to start
the engine, put the Jeep in gear, and headed toward his apartment for a shower
and shave. Once he’d made himself a bit more presentable, he would make his way
over to the hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Momentarily lost in his own thoughts, he missed an incoming
call on his cell. He glanced at the screen, but didn’t recognize the number.
Instead of pulling over, he waited until he’s traveled the last three miles to
get to his apartment and then returned the call. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Detective Martinelli? This is Mike Jacobs, Matt’s brother.
Thank you for calling me back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Has there been any news about his condition? I just got off
work and had planned on stopping in within the hour.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“No news yet but I had hoped you would be able to do me a
favor though. Could you stop by my parent’s house and pick up my sister,
Miranda? I know this is asking a lot, but I don’t want her to travel up here
alone. I know my sister very well. She’ll put on a good front for the family
even though she’s falling apart inside with worry about Matt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Jake hadn’t met any of the family other than their parents
so Mike’s request caught him off guard. Even though it wasn’t something he’d
expected to be asked to do, he felt relieved to do anything to help. He hadn’t
looked forward to sitting around and waiting for any word from the hospital, so
this would be as good of a distraction as any. “Sure, it would be no trouble to
swing by and pick her up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Thanks. Oh, don’t mention to her I asked you to do this.
She’d kill me. Randi’s pretty headstrong and can usually take care of herself,
but with Matt here…I guess you would have had to hear the sound of her voice on
the phone when I told her the news. She sounded—fragile. That’s <i>not</i> my
sister.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“Don’t worry. I’ll think of something to tell her. Actually,
I’m looking forward to meeting her. Matt had always spoken very highly of her.
I got the distinct impression they’re very close.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Mike sighed. “Yes, they are. I don’t know how she’ll react
if he never comes out of this. She might withdraw completely from us and
immerse herself deeper into that career of hers. Sorry, it’s just that I miss
her and when something like this happens—I need to know she’s safe is all.
Thanks again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">“You’re welcome. See you soon.” Jake plugged his cell into
the wall charger and made his way toward the bathroom. The sooner he cleaned
up, the faster he’d be at the hospital with Matt’s sister in tow. Now he had to
think of a believable cover story to get her to accept a ride from a stranger.
He laughed at how bad that sounded. <i>Probably best I introduce myself as a
cop before she calls 911 on me. Don’t think the Lieutenant would ever let me
live that one down!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">* * * *</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #f6b26b;"><b>All Rights Reserved. ©Stephanie Ryan 2014</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #f6b26b;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Stop in next week for Chapter 2!</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until then,</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-79916874827798809192014-03-14T00:00:00.000-07:002014-03-14T00:00:00.555-07:00#FridayFantasy: Sensuous Promo’s Presents - Book Tour for Give Me Shelter by Alexis D. Craig @Dispatchvampire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nykark30Pfk/UWt7Mawb4YI/AAAAAAAAAGE/7xfJZQfC4do/s1600/Friday+Fantasy+Free+For+All.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nykark30Pfk/UWt7Mawb4YI/AAAAAAAAAGE/7xfJZQfC4do/s1600/Friday+Fantasy+Free+For+All.jpg" height="240" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome to Friday Fantasy Free For All here at Through Stephanie's Eyes. This week I have a special treat. I was asked to be a part of another book tour hosted by Sensuous Promos. My little blog is the SIXTH stop for author Alexis D. Craig. Each stop you get to read one of four different excerpts, each tailored for the heat levels of the blog stops. How cool is that?</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>So sit back, relax and enjoy today's sneak peek at <b>Give Me Shelter.</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0VGfU5ELpvo/UyKPz_i5FdI/AAAAAAAAAPc/evbyDJnjl1s/s1600/Give+Me+Shelter+Book+Tour+Graphic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0VGfU5ELpvo/UyKPz_i5FdI/AAAAAAAAAPc/evbyDJnjl1s/s1600/Give+Me+Shelter+Book+Tour+Graphic.jpg" height="320" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12.0pt; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; page-break-after: avoid; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: large;">Welcome
to <a href="http://sensuouspromos.blogspot.com/">Sensuous Promo’s</a> <i>Give Me Shelter </i></span><span style="font-size: large;">Book Tour.</span></span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12.0pt; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; page-break-after: avoid; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; page-break-after: avoid; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">*
WATCH FOR CONTEST BELOW *</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1aqppFMbAXA/UyKUGmHL0oI/AAAAAAAAAPo/bmwgNIQmLAM/s1600/Give+Me+Shelter+Book+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1aqppFMbAXA/UyKUGmHL0oI/AAAAAAAAAPo/bmwgNIQmLAM/s1600/Give+Me+Shelter+Book+Cover.jpg" height="400" width="270" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Give Me Shelter </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">By
Alexis D. Craig </span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">Inspector
Eli Miller's unspoken feelings for his partner, Bex, color his whole life. When
his past comes calling, will it be the push he needs to seek a future with her?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">Inspector
Rebecca 'Bex' Mulcahy has lived long enough to know that love is a street con
at best, and a dangerous distraction at worst. Any feelings she has for her
partner Eli definitely fall into the latter category. Will her dedication to
her job keep her from finding a possible future with Eli?Their latest case is
protecting Violet Burrell, a young woman with scars on her soul stretching back
to birth, who inadvertently witnesses a shockingly brutal murder at the hands
of a sadist. Violet is determined to testify in court. Her strength and courage
impress Eli and Bex, who will protect her at all costs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">But
it is Violet’s beauty and spirit that entrances Junior Inspector Atticus
Randall. Atticus is also assigned to protect Violet, and while he knows he should
ignore his growing feelings for her, he just can’t stop himself from falling
for the brave beauty.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">Life
in the Las Vegas branch of Witness Protection has never been more tangled. When
the emotional landmines start a chain reaction, everyone in the blast radius is
going to need a little shelter.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> </span></b><b><u><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Excerpt<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></i></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“Heterochromia.” A blue eye and a green eye were hard to miss,
especially prominent when she lined her lashes in jet black. He’d never been
this close to her before, never face-to-face, but there were many other things
he could have said that would have been so much smoother. Dammit.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“Actually my name is Zoe. The autosomal dominant gene is just one
of my many features.” She licked her lips and laughed as she dropped her head
forward. She looked up at him through her lashes and his book bag landed on his
foot as he lost control of his fingers. He took his student ID from his pocket
and slid it across the counter to disguise his trembling hands.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“I-I know your name,” he stammered, hoping not to sound like a
stalker. The heat in his cheeks was distracting as hell. “You’re in Stayton’s
Philosophy of Living and Dying lecture.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“And you’re in Satterlee’s Romans d’Amour.” She took his book and
drew it across the counter slowly, presumably to deactivate the anti-theft tag.
The tips of her pigtails swooped down over her shoulders as she looked over the
book and found the check-out card. She held the card up under the infrared
light and then did the same with his student ID.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“Le même.” He hoped there was no one in line behind him, because
he wanted this interaction to go on for as long as possible. “I’m Eli, by the
way.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“Interesting choice of reading material, Eli.” She handed the book
and his ID back to him and got a tinge of blush in her cheeks when their hands
touched. “Personal or independent study?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“How do you know it’s not for a class?” he challenged. A quick
look behind him as he knelt down to put the book away in his bag told him that
he had all the time in the world to chat up the sexy little librarian. He slung
his bag over his shoulder as he stood, and was glad for it when she leaned back
and he could see the rest of her outfit. The lacy thing was the top of a
bustier, the color of the faintest rose, which was really more of a display
case than a foundation garment. She’d had to open up a couple of buttons, lest
they become potentially lethal projectiles and put out someone’s eye. He really
hoped he wasn’t drooling on the counter.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“Trust me, it’s not on any syllabus, and I would know.” Her every
breath made him lightheaded.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>Her every movement made his ears hum.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>“It’s for personal reading.” He was gratified to see her inky
eyebrow arch in response. She hopped down off the chair and for the first time
he realized how tiny she was. Five foot and maybe a handful of pennies,
compared to his 6’2” frame, she was practically a munchkin. She flounced over
to the desk and bent over a drawer and he knew that his dreams tonight were
probably going to kill him with the images of today, including the laces up the
backs of her stockings.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>Zoe bounced back with a bright pink sticky note in the shape of a
kitty with a bow attached to her fingertips. She held it out to him. “In case
you ever want to talk about it. Discuss major themes and such.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"><i>Her number, holy mother of geek gods, she was giving him her
number.</i></span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Buy Links<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Amazon:
<a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Give-Me-Shelter-Alexis-Craig-ebook/dp/B00I8ZGFNU">http://www.amazon.ca/Give-Me-Shelter-Alexis-Craig-ebook/dp/B00I8ZGFNU</a>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Lachesis
Publishing: <a href="http://lachesispublishing.com/?product=give-me-shelter">http://lachesispublishing.com/?product=give-me-shelter</a>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Bookstrand:
<a href="http://www.bookstrand.com/give-me-shelter">http://www.bookstrand.com/give-me-shelter</a>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Smashwords:
<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/405307">http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/405307</a>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Connect with Alexis D. Craig
online:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Website:
<a href="http://alexisdcraig.net/">http://alexisdcraig.net/</a> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Twitter:
<a href="https://twitter.com/Dispatchvampire">https://twitter.com/Dispatchvampire</a>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Facebook:
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alexis-D-Craig-Author/147234841955791">https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alexis-D-Craig-Author/147234841955791</a>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">* CONTEST *</span></u></b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Leave a comment below (with email
address) and your name will be thrown into the hat to win:</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1st Prize - $15 gift card to Bookstrand
(where you can buy Alexis' book!)</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2nd Prize - eBook copy of <i>Give Me
Shelter</i></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Every stop on this tour is
eligible for the same contest.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You may enter by leaving a
comment and email address on every stop.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That's up to 12 entries!!!<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Winner to be drawn on April
2nd</span></span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-62454913774431471482014-02-27T00:51:00.000-08:002014-02-27T00:51:03.296-08:00REBLOG: Write Your Ass Off: Publishing is NOT a zero-sum game.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vamwioRba1E/UgQbFHBDtXI/AAAAAAAAAJo/KxcTWfeX9GQ/s1600/Thursday+Thirteen+for+Stephanie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vamwioRba1E/UgQbFHBDtXI/AAAAAAAAAJo/KxcTWfeX9GQ/s1600/Thursday+Thirteen+for+Stephanie.jpg" height="240" width="640" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_654623599"></span><span id="goog_654623600"></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>So this isn't a real Thursday Thirteen post today, but it goes along with the "small taste" theme. It's the first time I'm reblogging a post from another blogger. </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The following link is to a fabulous post by author Tymber Dalton in response to the recent uproar caused by an author badmouthing J.K. Rowling. I have to say I was more than a bit shocked the person had the balls to say Ms. Rowling should stop writing and then proceed to trash her Harry Potter books...after admitting she'd NEVER read one of them.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Can you believe that?</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>What's going on in the publishing world? I mean, before I tossed my hat in the ring, I never heard of all "authors behaving badly" or "Internet trolls." I never thought in my wildest dreams or nightmares that an author would launch attacks on another simply because they perceive them as a threat or competition.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Tymber puts it all out there and details exactly how I feel about the situation too. I may not be published as Stephanie yet, but I have three other pen names with books out. I've been supported by some of the finest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and also been slammed in reviews recently by a few simply because they could do it.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I'm building up a thick skin during all of this, but I'm happy to say I do have others to lean on and make me laugh at myself and any "alleged" trolls. In the end, it's not worth going on the warpath and maybe ruining my career. I'd rather keep plugging along and help others to do the same. I cheer them on during their successes and lend an ear when they just need to blow off steam.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>That's would friends and colleagues do for each other. Not all of us are the best of friends, but we're all in the same boat. We know the struggles, heartaches and the joys. Who better to understand what we're going through than another author?</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Go ahead and click on the link to Tymber's blog and leave a comment for her.</i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://writeyourassoff.blogspot.com/2014/02/publishing-is-not-zero-sum-game.html?spref=bl">Write Your Ass Off: Publishing is NOT a zero-sum game.</a>: I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Publishing is NOT a zero-sum game. (Kind of knew I was going to say that from the titl...</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until next time,</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Steph</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-52476544497207472882014-02-22T13:47:00.000-08:002014-02-22T13:47:19.490-08:00Lost and Alone in a "Family" of Erotic Romance Authors #amwriting #MyWANA<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome to Through Stephanie's Eyes—my little corner of the Universe. What I talk about here is how I see things based on my own experiences. I'm sure many of you have different views on the world, but this is mine. Right now I'm going through some major upheavals in my personal and professional life and feeling a bit overwhelmed and basically out of the loop.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/2A4Km5PTu5o?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I made it no secret that I'm an alter ego and pen name of another person who writes smokin' HAWT erotic romance, poetry and erotica. I'm part of the original three that made up the core authors of Sassy Vixen Publishing and proud of it. I cheered the "others" on from the sidelines patiently waiting for my turn in the spotlight. Now it seems like I've been forgotten.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>We've expanded our "family" a bit to include the fabulous Tawny Savage and her dark fantasy and monster erotica. I'm thrilled her Bigfoot Chronicles are best sellers on ARe and are holding their own on the other retail outlets. I can't wait to read the final book in that trilogy and yet I the little voice in the back of my mind keeps whispering.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<br />
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</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yFgw0v1N3dY/UwkXr8GuJoI/AAAAAAAAAOo/Puq7hQ7uj2k/s1600/what+about+me+eyes+of+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yFgw0v1N3dY/UwkXr8GuJoI/AAAAAAAAAOo/Puq7hQ7uj2k/s1600/what+about+me+eyes+of+dog.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;"><i><b>What about me?</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>We all know what it's like for erotica and erotic romance authors in the grand scheme of things. They get treated like the red headed stepchild of the romance and fiction world. Author support groups that claim to help all genres really mean "non-erotic" or "okay if you call yourself erotic as long as you don't use 'nasty' words." I get that the "bad girls" want to band together and help promote each other. I've been there with them from the start. All I'm asking is for a little encouragement with my writing. How about Lia, Tawny and Tammy take a vacation for a bit and let ME be front and center for a bit?</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Vq7HyW18SIE/TA7XGpt6pKI/AAAAAAAAAA8/rHGLCPq_Cxw/s1600/a671adea49_15tara1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Vq7HyW18SIE/TA7XGpt6pKI/AAAAAAAAAA8/rHGLCPq_Cxw/s1600/a671adea49_15tara1.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I know what some of you are thinking: <b><span style="color: #e69138;">Aren't "they" all the same person? Why does she have to fight for time? Why is she "jealous" of the other pen names?</span></b></i></span><br />
<i style="font-size: x-large;">Yes all of us were created in the same mind. All of us have specific genres and categories assigned to us so our writing gets out to the largest audience. Unfortunately, the projects assigned to me have been put on the back burner for so long, I'm not sure I remember the characters anymore. I am jealous because I do have some fabulous tales to tell but am not given the chance to do it because right now, it's all about the erotica and erotic romance stories.</i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Even with Sassy Vixen Publishing's shared world series Temptations Resort, there doesn't seem to be a place for my stuff. Sure I can write a nice sweet love story with couples who meet there, but next to the erotic ones, why bother? I'll just have to take my place back in the corner until my voice can be heard and figure out which of my WIP to push myself to finishing.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>If you look on my left side bar, I have three books listed. <b>The Do Over</b> is a mainstream romance. <b>Capitol Intrigue</b> is a bit of a mix of thriller and romantic suspense. That one my have to become a series because of all the characters involved in it and how it covers many years of history in their back stories. <b>Dangerous Medicine</b> is another romantic suspense. I'm stuck as to which to pursue. The first is a recent idea and the other two were originally started in the 90's and then put away in storage. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>My characters have waited long enough to have their stories brought to life. Won't you help me decide? Below is the poll. Cast your vote. The book that wins will be completed and published before the end of the summer 2014 come hell or high water!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until next time,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span><br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="500" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="https://docs.google.com/forms/d/197MR0cumYm4UQGZmhmjT30-zzfOInHLObuNsaUaHcDs/viewform?embedded=true" width="760">Loading...</iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-32722193872230218202014-01-16T00:00:00.000-08:002014-01-16T00:00:11.426-08:00#ThursdayThirteen from author @PiperPunches and #TheWaitingRoom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vamwioRba1E/UgQbFHBDtXI/AAAAAAAAAJo/KxcTWfeX9GQ/s1600/Thursday+Thirteen+for+Stephanie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vamwioRba1E/UgQbFHBDtXI/AAAAAAAAAJo/KxcTWfeX9GQ/s1600/Thursday+Thirteen+for+Stephanie.jpg" height="240" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome to one of my favorite features here at Through Stephanie's Eyes. Thursday Thirteen showcases either the first thirteen lines or sentences of the latest release of my guests. This week I'm excited to welcome author Piper Punches.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Her debut novel <b style="color: #f9cb9c;">The Waiting Room </b>came out just a few short months ago and already it's racked up a pretty good line of 5 star reviews on Amazon. Here's the blurb:</i></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Waiting-Room-Piper-Punches-ebook/dp/B00G8UKQI2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1389855409&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Waiting+Room">Find this on Amazon</a></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #ffd966; font-size: large;"><i>Waiting rooms tell stories. They are a medical purgatory. Some sit in the waiting room for hours to be shone the light, graced with blessings. For others this is the final holding room before they are delivered into hell; facing uncertainty, despair, sadness, even death. </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffd966; font-size: large;"><i>When Charlotte receives a note on the day of her mother’s funeral containing a cryptic message, she is confused and intrigued. Although she knew that waiting rooms told stories, she never realized that part of her own story resided in this seemingly neutral environment. But, then again, why should she be surprised? Her mother had secrets. Charlotte knew this. She just didn’t know how life-altering those secrets could be. . . </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffd966; font-size: large;"><i>A stunning debut novel from Piper Punches, The Waiting Room weaves a tale that reveals the complexities of family, the invisible bonds that connect people, and the pain that can reverberate through the choices we make. Told from several points of view the story becomes clearer and clearer with each turn of the page that the secrets we keep aren’t always ours to take to the grave. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now, here are the opening lines...</i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: large;">I had never felt so many emotions in one day. Never had I found myself sobbing guttural, disgusting sobs one minute and feeling completely elated and awestruck the next. All day long I received strangers, childhood friends, even a random news crew at my mother's home; all of them offering condolences, adding their memories to the collection of things I didn't know about my mom, and telling me what a wonderful woman Dr. Sylvie Day had been. I listened politely and nodded accordingly, feeling at ease, yet utterly bewildered that my mother had touched the lives of hundreds of people in this small town, not to mention scores of others who mailed or posted social media condolences.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: large;">Each person that stepped over the threshold of my mother's two-bedroom farmhouse brought with them a symbol of their generation. The oldest of my mother's patients brought baked goods. Middle-aged women and men brought flowers or plants. The youngest visitors were teenagers, with empty hands and sullen faces, being dragged to the visitation as evidence of all the good my mother had done in this small town. After all, she had birthed at least three-fourths of them.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 24px;">Keep reading here: <a href="http://piperpunches.com/2014/01/09/an-excerpt-from-the-waiting-room/" target="_blank">http://piperpunches.com/2014/<wbr></wbr>01/09/an-excerpt-from-the-<wbr></wbr>waiting-room/</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>About the Author</b></span></div>
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Piper Punches lives in the far west suburbs of St. Louis with her husband and two daughters. The Waiting Room is her debut novel. Piper is excited to connect with her readers and encourages everyone to stop by her website and say hello. In the meantime, she is currently working on her second novel, 60 Days, which will be available April 2014 and a short novella, Missing Girl, available January 2014.</div>
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<b>CONNECT WITH PIPER PUNCHES</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.piperpunches.com/">http://www.piperpunches.com</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/piperpunches">http://www.facebook.com/piperpunches</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.twitter.com/piperpunches">http://www.twitter.com/piperpunches</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/piperpunches">http://www.goodreads.com/piperpunches</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-82177122003974051342014-01-13T01:44:00.000-08:002014-05-03T21:26:31.037-07:00OhMy! Monday: @StephRyanAuthor Loves Flawed Female Characters #amwriting #ASMSG #MyWANA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome to another Oh My! Monday. This week I wanted to touch upon a hot topic buzzing around the author community. The discussions all center on female characters and whether or not the weak, blank slates are more accepted than the visions of perfection.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I say neither. I want a female who's a combination of both. She should be a blank slate when faced with a new adventure. She may have some preconceived notions about it, but she's willing to learn from her journey and adapt as she goes along. She should be confident,but not afraid to show her vulnerable side. She shouldn't think her life isn't complete unless she's in a relationship, but she better damn well not shove someone out of her life because "she doesn't need anyone."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Do you see where I'm going with this? </i></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a7yFp5guMiQ/U2XBWRstueI/AAAAAAAAATw/8MhzXUZsAoc/s1600/Bella+Swan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a7yFp5guMiQ/U2XBWRstueI/AAAAAAAAATw/8MhzXUZsAoc/s1600/Bella+Swan.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><i>My favorite characters are flawed and REAL. They're smart and talented in a variety of different ways, but their far from perfect. Perfect heroines are BORING. Completely blank, single dimensional characters or boring and IRRITATING as hell. Someone made a valid point as to why these blank slate characters are so appealing (think Anastasia of 50 Shades...). Readers identify with these sort of creatures because it's easier to insert themselves into the story if they don't have to pretend to be strong, assertive, smart, self sufficient, and unafraid to try new adventures.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Yeah, that may be true. Personally I think it's a crock and a cop out. I love meaty, raw, in your face female characters who've been kicked to the curb one too many times and now they're fighting back. I like to put myself in their shoes and story lines during the times when I'm not my strongest. Through the lives of these colorful heroines I can escape and maybe feel good about myself because I concurred a fear or two...even if it was just in a fictionalized tale.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I read Fifty Shades and the other two books in the series. I also read all of the Twilight books. I enjoyed all of them...not the female leads though. I wanted to grab both of them and shake the shit out of them.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>There have been a lot of reviewers attacking the strong, self-reliant, heroines. They think their abilities to get through adversity on their own is just as irritating as I find the blank slates. I'll give odds 10 to 1 that these very same reviewers would attack the blank slates with just as much venom.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Women in general can't be happy for another woman...ever. There's always a bit of jealousy there. I'm guilty of it as much as anyone and it's one of my own characteristics I'm not fond of and would just as soon dump it on the curb. Unfortunately, it's a part of me as much as my hatred of black licorice and the taste of coffee.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Before you jump all over me about the virtues of the candy and a good strong cup of Joe, stop. Just stop. I have my opinions and you have yours. My tastes are mine and yours are yours. There will always be someone out there who doesn't like my characters. I'm fine with that. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>What I won't do is change them to make those few people happy. If I do, I'll only anger another group who adored everything about them. I've decided to let the characters speak for themselves and the chips fall where they may. It's all a crap shoot anyway. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>So here's to writing the best story you can, with characters who are real and true to themselves. May all of us find others to share our worlds and have fun along the way.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Until next time,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-54576025413121207552014-01-07T00:25:00.000-08:002014-01-07T00:27:34.908-08:00PTSD, Paralysis, and Human Trafficking—Creating True-to-Life Characters with @MtnMoxieGirl Amber Lea Easton #ASMSG<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A-Awec5xnrk/UsuwSZT0tHI/AAAAAAAAAN8/4Rm1jmlHsAc/s1600/Tantilizing+Tuesdays.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A-Awec5xnrk/UsuwSZT0tHI/AAAAAAAAAN8/4Rm1jmlHsAc/s1600/Tantilizing+Tuesdays.jpg" height="240" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome to Through Stephanie's Eyes. Today we have a very special guest. She's not only a fabulous author of romantic suspense, she's one of my personal friends. Amber Lea Easton has also joined another group of friends of mine: <a href="http://www.fourseducedmuses.com/2014/01/amp-up-frisky-factor-in-2014.html#.Usu0tfRDvNk">The Four Seduced Muses</a>. Today will be <span style="color: #e69138;">The Temptress's</span> very first post there so make sure you check that out as soon as you leave here. ;)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Amber's here today to tell us a bit about her romantic suspense novel <span style="font-weight: bold;">Reckless Endangerment </span>and how she came up with characters dealing with a very real issue Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Let me turn over the reins to her so she can tell you all about it in her own words.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>PTSD, Paralysis, and Human
Trafficking—Creating True-to-Life Characters<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Amber Lea Easton</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">War
doesn't end once a Marine sets foot back on US soil. Battle takes a toll, not
only physically but mentally as well. Self-doubt affects heroes as much as
anyone, only they know how to conceal it better than most. In my latest
romantic suspense novel, Michael Cedars faces the concept of never walking
again and questions his ability to be the man his wife married.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">When
writing this novel, the characters were my main priority because I knew they
would drive the plot. I needed to research paralysis and partial paralysis.
What kind of surgeries and physical therapy would be involved in recovery? More
than that, what is the emotional toll that takes on a man who once commanded
men in battle to know he may not be "whole" again? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Add
other layers of his wife, Hope Shane, who's not willing to let go of their
marriage without a fight and a human trafficking story she's chasing as an
investigative reporter. Research about sex trafficking, post-traumatic stress
disorder, and physical therapy served to form the characters from their
mannerisms to their reactions in every scene. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">There's
a saying that goes, "No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader."
That holds true for the story of Michael Cedars and Hope Shane. I felt their pain, their frustration, their
fear, and their hope with every rewrite and each word. In order to create fully
fleshed out characters that readers will not only cheer for, but also cry for,
an author must make them flawed in a way that is believable and forgivable.
Human beings aren't perfect. Neither are heroes. Maybe that's why heroes are
held to a high standard. We know they are mere humans, but they do things for
the sake of justice or love that others wouldn't dare. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b><i>Reckless Endangerment </i>Blurb<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Sometimes heroes fall and take the ones they love down
with them. Colonel Michael Cedars and reporter Hope Shane fell in love in a war
zone, but then the world blew up, and splintered their lives in two. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Michael Cedars returns home from Afghanistan wounded and
unsure where he fits in this 'new normal' of civilian life. Unsure if he'll
walk again, he questions his abilities as a man, husband, and father. Accustomed
to giving orders, he's thrown into a world where he doesn't know the rules
anymore and no one is respecting the officer in the room. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Hope isn't one who gives up easily—not on her marriage and
not on the innocent victims of a human trafficking ring she's investigating. As
the danger of her story intensifies, she struggles with her own post-traumatic
stress disorder and a husband who resists her love. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Danger intensifies as Hope searches for truth and justice.
Everyone she loves is at risk. Will her reckless pursuit of the human
trafficking ring jeopardize their lives? <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><b>Michael knows she needs him, but doubts his ability to be the hero she still believes him to be. Is he still the man she married or has he become a liability that could get her killed?</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“I’m
sick of not having a say in what I do or don’t do. You can’t do this. Just because I’m trapped
in this chair doesn’t mean I don’t have a say about my life and I want you out
of it. Get the hell out and leave me alone. I don’t want to be married to you
and, unless something’s changed in the good ol’ USA, you can’t stop me from
divorcing you. Listen closely, babe. I. Don’t. Want. You.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>Rage
consumed him. Rage for what could have been, what should have been, for a life
lost. Rage for everyone acting like he had no rights anymore, like he couldn’t
make his own decisions. He tossed the
wedding ring and pictures across the room.<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>Looking
horrified, she covered her mouth with her hands and walked to where the frames
smashed against the floor. As she bent,
her bag spilled, contents ranging from liquid soap to a flashlight scattered
across the tile. She fell to her knees, hands shaking as she scooped up the
items. Broken glass crunched beneath her.
Hair shielded her face from view, but he knew she cried.<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>He
remembered another time with her on her knees when that bag had saved his
sanity. Bombs had rocked the walls. Blood had dripped into his eyes. Dizziness
weakened his legs. From that bag, she’d retrieved bandages, protein bars, and
bottles of water. He had thanked God for her and that oversized bag.<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“I’ll
make sure I call next time,” she said in rushed, quiet voice, “wouldn’t want to
inconvenience you.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“I’m
sorry.” He dropped his hands to the arms
of the chair and stared at her bent head.
“I don’t know how to handle any of this anymore, Hope, especially you.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>She
froze at his words. “Especially me, huh? I’m the one constant in your life, if
you haven’t figured that out yet. Despite all the bullshit, here I am. Me,
stupid me, still needing you as much today as I did a year ago.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kzsMsMsTuzg/Usu0xwitF2I/AAAAAAAAAOM/RMJP6uzSKfo/s1600/NewREcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kzsMsMsTuzg/Usu0xwitF2I/AAAAAAAAAOM/RMJP6uzSKfo/s1600/NewREcover.jpg" height="400" width="277" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>His
chest caved in at the sight of her eyes glistening with tears. He wanted to
take it back, every word.<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“I
don’t know how to do this, how to be married, how to be back in the States, how
to be a civilian again, how not to walk,” he admitted.<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“You
break my heart,” she whispered.<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“How
could I possibly break your heart?”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“By
not seeing how strong you are, how much you mean to everyone in your life, how
worthy you are to be alive, how heroic you’ve been, how much I love you.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“Don’t
say that.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“Maybe
I need to stop trying to hold on. Maybe you’re right.” Sighing, her shoulders slumped. “We were this close,” she held her fingers an
inch apart, “to having a life together when everything blew up in our faces.
Literally. What else do I have to lose, right? I already lost my dignity when I
begged those damn bureaucrats to let me see you in Germany. And when I say begged, I mean I begged,
pleaded, bartered, whatever I could possibly say or do to get in and they told
me that you,” she pointed at him, “said no, you told them I lied about being
married to you. McGee backed you up. I looked like a fool and a liar.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“I’m
sorry,” he whispered.<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“Now
you’re doing it again, denying me. You’d rather sit in this place alone than
admit to the world that I’m your wife. It’s true.” She nodded, gaze gluing him
in place. “I gave up my everything for you. My life. My pride. My dignity. I
gave it all up for you.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“Why?”
he choked out the question. “I did everything to get you to let me go. I don’t want you to give up anything for me;
can’t you see that? You were born to be in the spotlight, dodging bullets,
charming your way into and out of trouble. I’m an anchor to you now; you know
it but refuse to admit it. I want you to forget me. Why won’t you let me go?”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>She
closed her eyes, face tilted toward the ceiling. “Because maybe I went crazy
over there. Maybe we weren’t this close,” again with the fingers, “to having a
life together. Maybe we were already there. Maybe it wasn’t conventional, but
it was real, it was us. Maybe I misunderstood sex for more. Maybe I thought
that our wedding meant as much to you as it did to me. Maybe I’m the biggest
fool to walk planet earth.”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“But
now I’m broken so...” <o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>“Yeah,
that’s right.” Nodding, she looked away
and brushed the back of her hand over her eyes.
“And I’m too shallow to be the person you need, right? Too superficial?
I know the truth. I know that you should be capable of limited mobility, that
you are not trapped in that chair, that you have sensations in your right leg
and have even managed to stand for a brief period of time here and there.
Didn’t you think I’d do some research on your injuries? I may have kept my
distance, but I have a knack for getting people to talk to me, remember? Yes, you’re in a wheelchair, but your
situation isn’t hopeless. You’re the one
who gave up, but for the life of me I don’t know why. It’s not like you. You’re a goddamn colonel
in the Marine Corps. You don’t surrender, so what’s going on with you?”<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b>Her words stung. He had heard them for
months now and he didn’t know the answer. He couldn’t explain anything to
anyone, not even himself.<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Buy Links</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://getbook.at/REALEaston">Amazon</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://bit.ly/Z4F3qj">Barnes and Noble </a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://goo.gl/d7RRSt">All Romance</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://bit.ly/14lTKrb">Smashwords</a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>About the Author</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GluChQ8t9gk/Usu3esSOnyI/AAAAAAAAAOU/LvOQ5jvvne8/s1600/SantaMonica.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GluChQ8t9gk/Usu3esSOnyI/AAAAAAAAAOU/LvOQ5jvvne8/s1600/SantaMonica.jpg" height="320" width="192" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published author of both nonfiction and fiction. She spent years working in journalism and advertising with a brief detour into the financial sector. She has three published romantic suspense novels—"Kiss Me Slowly", "Riptide", and "Reckless Endangerment"—and a contemporary romance novella, "Anonymity." Her memoir about surviving the suicide of loved one, "Free Fall", published in September 2013. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Easton is also an editor and professional speaker. Links to radio interviews can be located on her website, http://amberleaeaston.com, and her videos about romance writing have been showcased internationally on the Writers and Authors television network. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Easton currently lives with her two teenagers in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. She gives thanks daily for the view outside her window and healthy children. As long as she's writing, she considers herself to be simply "a lucky lady liv'n the dream."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Connect with Amber</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amberleaeaston.com/">Website</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/AuthorAmberLeaEaston">Facebook</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.twitter.com/MtnMoxieGirl">Twitter</a></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-4322644758671615812013-12-25T23:25:00.000-08:002013-12-25T23:25:26.081-08:00Being Supportive in Groups is NOT a One Way Street #amwriting #MyWANA<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ShwjFD1b3A/UmVMYmg9siI/AAAAAAAACZQ/33a2vK9d2is/s320/We're+all+in+this+together.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ShwjFD1b3A/UmVMYmg9siI/AAAAAAAACZQ/33a2vK9d2is/s400/We're+all+in+this+together.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://readingwritingandlovinit.blogspot.com/2013/10/support-beams-other-authors-part-one.html">See article by author Cassie Mae</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Welcome back to Through Stephanie's Eyes. This week I'd like to talk a bit about a topic that's near and dear to my heart. I believe as authors, we should support and encourage each other in our goals to get our name, brand and books out there to the readers. There are literally hundreds of support groups out there to choose from but you have to BEWARE. What may look on the surface to be a group that fully supports all it's members, may actually be one where you and a few others are doing all the sharing and promoting and getting nothing in return.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">As you know, I'm one of several pen names for author Tammy Dennings Maggy. I'm the "good girl" of the bunch and write the mainstream romance and fiction. My audience is at best a PG crowd. My other alter egos have adult audiences and some of their work is EXPLICIT and only meant for the over 18 crowd. Okay they are definitely NC-17 rated. I still promote them here but with censored posts. That's to keep with the theme of this blog.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Now in support groups where it's stated in their rules that everyone must share and support each other, I don't think it's fair when members pick and choose what posts, links, tweets, and books they'll share with their followers. The excuse that the avoided material is not something they wish to be associated with because it's too explicit or goes against their morals is simply...</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">A crock of shit.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">It's all well and good when these erotica, erotic romance and adult fiction writers share all members's posts and promotions to THEIR adult audiences, but not the other way around. Association goes both ways, folks. If you think an author's book is pornography, then what the hell are you doing in a group where your children's book is being presented to the fans of the porn writer? It's obvious to me your morals only come into play when you wish to make a high and mighty statement.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
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<a href="http://newenglandfilm.com/files/images/adults.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="151" src="http://newenglandfilm.com/files/images/adults.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Honestly, it makes you look bad in the eyes of the other authors in your group. They're good enough to share your work with their connections, even though they may not be fans of it, and yet you feel it's okay to shame them by saying your "morals" won't allow you to post "that kind" of material.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">There was an incident earlier this week in another group in which I'm a member. Seems a small fraction of the membership complained about one promotion of a book that had a couple making out on the beach. Mind you, the couple had bathing suits on, but according to the "moral minority" they refused to promote blatant porn. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Let that sink in a moment. Ready? Okay now picture this. Some of the authors refusing to promote a bikini clad model on the cover book, want the author of the "offensive" book to tweet about their cartoon illustrated kiddie book.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">These self-righteous few joined this group knowing all the ground rules ahead of time. They didn't have to join at all. They knew in ADVANCE there are erotica, erotic romance and spicy romance authors in the group and all are expected to reciprocate. It's the only rule of the group.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">It's the one rule these few wish to change. They don't see why they should have to compromise their morals to participate.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Do you know the answer to this dilemma? What would've been the best course of action for these few to take in the very beginning?</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">DON'T join a group in the first place. LEAVE if there are promotions you don't feel comfortable sharing. No one is holding a gun to your head to stay but your actions and slamming the work of your fellow authors will earn you the label of yet another author behaving badly.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Don't be one of those authors. Join groups where you can give and receive the support you need. Don't start up groups saying you support all genres and then later ban specific ones. Don't try to change the group dynamics because you didn't read the rules nor did you think they actually applied to you specifically.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
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<a href="http://www.searchenginepeople.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/kleenex-274x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="http://www.searchenginepeople.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/kleenex-274x300.jpg" /></span></a></div>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">If by now you think I've been a bit harsh in this article, you're right. I've been pushed to this point and frankly, I'm sick and tired of it. There's no reason people have to treat each other this way: use them for what you can get out of them and then toss them aside like used Kleenex. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I feel just as used when my email accounts, Twitter direct messages, and Facebook inbox is inundated with requests from authors and their street team members to help them promote their work. I don't have a clue who they are, and yet they think I want to take the time out of my day to spread the word about their self proclaimed novel of the century.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">It would be nice to have a bit of a conversation going here and there. Some interaction between us like clicking the RT button or "share" button once in a while. It's NOT okay to send me fly by promo within one minute of me accepting your friend request or following you on Twitter.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">You want support? You have to give it in order to receive it. They way to do that is to put YOURSELF out there for all of us to get to know a bit better. Then we'll all WANT to help you promote your work because we already like YOU.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Food for thought my lovelies. Until the next time.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">~Steph</span></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-73602598776226823282013-12-17T23:34:00.000-08:002013-12-17T23:34:42.561-08:00How to Send #Ebooks to Your #Kindle or Kindle App Without Going to Amazon Directly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C3ztJlCOQsU/UWt6-cpKi1I/AAAAAAAAAF8/vDqOCqugcv0/s1600/Wild+Card+Wednesdays+Banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C3ztJlCOQsU/UWt6-cpKi1I/AAAAAAAAAF8/vDqOCqugcv0/s640/Wild+Card+Wednesdays+Banner.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome to Wild Card Wednesday! This week I decided to touch on a subject that many Kindle users need a lesson on...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>how to send ebook files to their Kindle or Kindle app without the "one click" purchase from the Amazon site.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I know some of you are staring at the screen and shaking your head. "How the hell can you do that?"</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's really easy and will enable you to be able to purchase your ebooks from sites other than Amazon if you wish. Yes, there are more sites out there that sell mobi format ebooks. Here are a few:</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/">All Romance Ebooks</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://www.omnilit.com/">Omnilit</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.bookstrand.com/">Bookstrand</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.evernightpublishing.com/">Evernight</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.ellorascave.com/">Ellora's Cave</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/">Smashwords</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/">Secret Cravings</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>and coming soon...<a href="http://www.sassyvixenpublishing.net/">Sassy Vixen Publishing</a></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Not only can you get ebooks at fabulous prices from these sites, you can also win them during blog hops and other giveaways. Authors and other groups routinely giveaway free copies of their work to promote themselves and to introduce new readers to their stories. You can even take one file type and convert it to a Mobi file for your Kindle...that's a topic for another post, but you get my point.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>If you know how to send files to your ereader, you won't be tied down to just using Amazon for everything. You do need the Kindle email address assigned to you when you registered with Amazon for an account. You have one even if you only have the Kindle App for your phone or iPad. It should look something like stephryan@kindle.com</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KNXkuRU1BMc/UrFNFUZLKjI/AAAAAAAAANs/MmPodidJylk/s1600/Kindle-app.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KNXkuRU1BMc/UrFNFUZLKjI/AAAAAAAAANs/MmPodidJylk/s1600/Kindle-app.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now that's not my actual kindle addy but you get the picture. This is the email address you have to send all files TO. Now what email account or accounts are accepted by your Kindle is up to you as well. Go into your Amazon account and choose the tab that says: Manage Your Kindle. In there you'll find a spot where you can add all the sites that are allowed to send you material. In mine, I have my gmail account and Bookstrand's email. By allowing Bookstrand to send me stuff, I get an INSTANT upload to ereader. That's about as close to a "one click" shopping you can get!</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now if someone were to send me a ebook file, in MOBI or PRC format...or even PDF format, I can download the file to my computer. I don't open the file yet. Instead, I send it as an attachment from my gmail account to my kindle address.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>That's it. Within five minutes I have the file on my ereader. </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>If you'd like more detailed instructions, here's a step by step on how to do it straight from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/sendtokindle/email">Amazon</a>. </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>So go on and get used to sending files to your Kindle. You'll be able to receive ARCs from your favorite authors, become beta readers for others, read the ebooks you've won in contests, read PDF files for your job...anything you can think of, you'll eventually be able to do it. Go on. Give it a go!</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-36896337880125780932013-12-12T01:35:00.000-08:002013-12-12T01:35:15.576-08:00Pre-Release Day Celebration for @4SeducedMuses and @SassyVixPub #holiday #erotic #romance <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-op3P7mjE0jk/UqmBUfxXBtI/AAAAAAAAANc/AM_ByolMJfI/s1600/1+Countdown+for+Release+Day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-op3P7mjE0jk/UqmBUfxXBtI/AAAAAAAAANc/AM_ByolMJfI/s640/1+Countdown+for+Release+Day.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome to Through Stephanie's Eyes! Today is an exciting day for my publisher. We're launching a pre-release day party and giveaway for a new venture. Sassy Vixen Publishing joined with our friends The Four Seduced Muses to create their very own imprint. Their very first anthology is called <b>'Tis the Season for Seduction</b>. It's made up of five naughty novellas that will melt your e-reader as well as your panties!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I know, I know. I'm the good girl of the SVP bunch, but I have to tell you. I loved every bit of this book from the sexy vampire to the menage a quatra. There's something for every fan of erotic romance all in one book.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Tomorrow SVP officially releases this one in all ebook formats and print. That's right. You don't have to wait four months to get this bad boy in print. You can get it now.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>That's right. I said. RIGHT. NOW.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The book's already available on most major outlets including All Romance/Omnilit, Smashwords, and Amazon/Createspace. If you wish, you can enter to win a free ebook copy of <b>'Tis the Season for Seduction</b> starting today. One lucky winner will get an ebook </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>AND an Amazon gift card to boot!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>No more waiting. Here's the Rafflecopter. Get as many entries as you can each day. Monday we'll announce the winners. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Good luck!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>~Steph</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/78a7c817/" id="rc-78a7c817" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2085021993014986694.post-25495724620302131342013-10-19T13:15:00.000-07:002013-10-19T13:15:00.594-07:00#ImWithShea: STAND UP & AND STOP STANDING BY! #BRAVE #MyWANA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Welcome back to Through Stephanie's Eyes. The last time we visited together I shared a video I found on Facebook that literally brought me to my knees. The bullying depicted in the video led to the child attempting suicide. Of course the video was a dramatization depicting a "what if" scenario, but the actions were very real. That type of tormenting does occur on a daily basis and is getting out of hand.</span><br />
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<a href="https://scontent-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/1376340_160793414129232_1434451552_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://scontent-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/1376340_160793414129232_1434451552_n.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It horrifies me to see more and more of these type of stories in the news. Just within the last few weeks two Florida teens were arrested for their part in the vicious cyberbullying that lead to the suicide of one of their classmates. Now another beautiful young woman is being harassed mercilessly by other students and strangers because she's different. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2455556/Shea-seizure-die-Special-needs-girl-tormented-bullies.html">Shea Shawhan</a> is an 18 year old high school junior in Texas. For the last eight months she's been receiving horrible texts calling her ugly, whore, wishing she would have a seizure and die already. Yeah, that sort of sick crap is going on by people who think they can say anything they want under the guise of being anonymous over the Internet and in text messages. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://scontent-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/1375931_158571604351413_586580916_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://scontent-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/1375931_158571604351413_586580916_n.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Who does this sort of crap? Why on earth do this other than to get your rocks off out of deliberately hurting another human being?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's time we all stood up to this sort of childish, mean spirited and ILLEGAL activity. These people think they can get away with doing this to Shea and others because they don't think they'll be found out or turned in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I've got news for you asshats. Sending threats and harassing messages over text, phone, or the Internet is a crime and they authorities do have the ability to trace where these messages originate. You will be brought to justice and the book thrown at you. No longer will you be able to hide behind the idea "kids will be kids." The judicial system has ZERO tolerance for this sort of thing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Whether you are an adult or a minor, you will be punished to the full extent of the law. Those of us with Shea will accept no less. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-udvse72mF0M/UmLnsSgiIaI/AAAAAAAAANE/u5_i5BbcUMM/s1600/1385293_10201958303737362_2139622944_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-udvse72mF0M/UmLnsSgiIaI/AAAAAAAAANE/u5_i5BbcUMM/s200/1385293_10201958303737362_2139622944_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>If you are the target of this kind of harassment and bullying, don't keep quiet. STAND UP. Tell the local police. Tell your story so others will do the same. Bullies only have the power if we stand back and let them have it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm with Shea and all the others like her. Are you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">~Stephanie</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To learn more about Shea and lend your voice with hers and her mother's, follow her on <a href="https://twitter.com/ImWithShea">Twitter</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/imwithshea">Facebook</a>.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11093880532755649769noreply@blogger.com0