~~ Free PDF Playing with Fire (Conard County: The Next Generation), by Rachel Lee

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Playing with Fire (Conard County: The Next Generation), by Rachel Lee

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In New York Times bestselling author Rachel Lee's latest Conard County romance, passion blazes between a fire chief and a beautiful arson investigator 

 

The cunning arsonist targeting Conard County has fire chief Wayne Camden stymied. Teaming up with investigator Charity Atkins seems like a no-brainer. She has the expertise to track down the firebug before he kills someone. But Wayne never anticipated making Charity a target. 

 

Since his wife left, Wayne's had little interest in relationships. The single dad is unsettled by the electrifying attraction Charity ignites. Wayne is rooted in the community, and Charity's a nomad. But with danger stalking them, irresistible desire forces them both to reevaluate their lives. 

 

• Sales Rank: #1505062 in Books
• Published on: 2015-08-04
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.59" h x .59" w x 4.23" l, .24 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 288 pages

About the Author
Rachel Lee was hooked on writing by the age of twelve, and practiced her craft as she moved from place to place all over the United States. This New York Times bestselling author now resides in Florida and has the joy of writing full-time.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Charity Atkins drove into the outskirts of Conard City and suddenly felt sickeningly out of her depth. It was a grandiose name for a small town, she realized, and although she was a good arson investigator, she'd only worked in industrial areas and other businesses in large cities, not on ranches out in the boondocks.

It didn't help to remind herself that location didn't matter, that figuring out whether the arson was attempted fraud remained the same no matter where it occurred. For the first time, though, she knew why Todd had claimed he couldn't handle this job and had recommended Charity take his place. All the stuff he'd said about how she was such a great investigator? She'd thought it was exaggerated at the time, but now she knew why. Separating Todd from his metropolitan comforts might have been too much to ask. She snorted.

Two minutes later she realized she couldn't have been more inappropriately dressed. The casual clothes of people she passed were mostly well-worn versions of Western style. Wearing a gray business suit and high heels was going to make her stick out like a sore thumb. Of course, given the size of this place she'd probably stick out anyway.

She felt like an alien, but that was something she was fairly used to. Always being on the road kind of created that feeling.

She reminded herself that arson was arson no matter where it occurred. Still, when she'd been told to come to Conard City, she'd envisioned a much larger place. Flying in on a four-seater Cessna hadn't concerned her, and she hadn't really thought about it when she climbed into a rental car that wasn't new enough to have a GPS mapping console.

Only now, driving down Front Street toward what she hoped would be the fire station, did she get a clear picture. The houses were all older Victorian and Craftsman styles commingling contentedly. The leafy trees looked as old as the houses, and for a main street this one struck her as awfully narrow, narrow enough that parking was allowed on only one side. She'd been in some older neighborhoods in Atlanta like this, but if this was the whole town…oh, boy.

She was a city girl in rural territory, and immediately she began imagining all kinds of problems with the locals who'd probably resent the heck out of her. She had traveled the world throughout her entire life and knew that outsiders were rarely welcomed. Looking into a big industrial fire often only drew flak from the owners. In a place this small she might draw flak from the entire community. But she always drew flak, some of it potentially dangerous. She'd been threatened more than once.

She shook herself and continued the slow drive. She'd manage. She wasn't here to be liked, merely to protect her insurance company against fraud.

The firehouse was near the town square, she'd been told at the airport. Couldn't miss it. Well, she hadn't passed anything resembling a town square yet so.

Just then sirens penetrated her thoughts. She pulled over immediately to the curb, and soon a fire engine came racing by. Behind it was a red SUV with flashing white-and-red lights. She hesitated, then figured that in a burg this size it was unlikely the chief would still be at the station. He'd probably be out helping.

So she pulled an illegal U-turn and followed the truck. Might as well see how this department operated in action. That could sometimes be useful to her investigation. An ambulance, horn blaring, raced past her, forcing her to the curb again.

She kept to the speed limit, unlike the trucks, but soon reached them. They had pulled over on a side street, already being blocked by police to traffic. Two men in yellow firefighting gear were heading indoors as flames leaped out one lower story window. There must be a potential victim inside, as they didn't wait for the hoses. Others were hooking up hoses to the truck and a nearby hydrant. Not bad yet. It was clear where the fire was, and apparently the window had been open. She studied it with a practiced eye.

One guy stood out, mainly because of his white helmet, the word Chief stenciled in black on it. He was clearly directing operations, his arms and hands moving as he pointed where he wanted things.

She stopped against the curb outside the cordon. After a minute, she climbed out and joined concerned neighbors across the street who had either been ordered out of nearby houses or were gathering out of interest. "She's got a baby!" one of the onlookers shouted, trying to be heard over the racket of the pump truck, other vehicles and raised voices. "Upstairs, bedroom on the right."

The chief turned, gesturing that he'd heard. He pulled up his flash hood, donned his face mask and, moments later, he ran into the house, to rooms that had to be right above where flames spewed out the open ground floor window. He went alone, seeming to ignore the two-in, two-out rule. Another firefighter saw and raced after him.

Yet another two stood near the truck, ready to run in if any firefighter ran into trouble. The two out.

Charity felt her heart speed up. She didn't know these people, but she hated fires, hated what they did, and was intimately acquainted with the dangers for those who fought them. Her career of investigating arson wasn't just a job, it was a mission. Preventing fraud was one thing. Stopping people who killed and hurt others was even more important to her, though it wasn't often she had an opportunity to do that.

"Who are you?" one of the onlookers asked her. She glanced over and saw a man of about seventy, thin and a bit bent.

"I'm here to see the chief," she answered quietly. "Business."

"Oh, no!" someone cried.

Charity looked at the house again and saw flames had reached the second story. The beehive of firefighters began to swarm even more rapidly. A hose doused the outside wall of the house. One was aimed right inside the lower floor window. The roof, too, was getting its share of water. Another truck pulled up and in seconds was fanning water over the neighboring roof and side wall to prevent the fire from spreading. That must be a constant danger with the houses so close.

She knew all the dangers. Fire spread fast enough, but when combined with the gases it created, it could turn into an instant conflagration at the point of flashover. That was why windows were giving way to axes even though the fresh air would fuel the fire. It would also dilute the explosive gases and flammable black smoke that was roiling out the front door.

She'd lost track of how many firefighters were now in the house. Her heart was slamming like a trip-hammer.

Then one came out of the house carrying a woman. His buddy followed close on his heels. Others immediately went to help him, quickly putting her on a stretcher and turning her over to EMTs. Two more firefighters ran in to battle the blaze, but already the flames were shrinking from the side window. The smoke coming out the front door was turning gray. The water was doing its work.

Where was the chief?

Almost in answer to her silent question, he burst out through the front door, carrying a tightly wrapped bundle. Ignoring everyone else, he threw off his respirator mask and helmet, then knelt on the grass, unwrapping a baby.

Charity's heart nearly stopped. The infant looked pale, almost blue. She raised her fingers to her lips, trying to hold in the anxiety. Not a baby. Please, not a baby.

"Oxygen," the chief shouted. He bent close to the child, listening for breath, then feeling for a pulse. An EMT rushed over and joined him. The infant's color improved within seconds after the oxygen mask was placed over its face. The child was swiftly moved to the ambulance.

Relief nearly caused Charity to sag. Leaving the spectators, she returned to her car, watching the scene unfold. She'd seen this many times. Too many times. She'd even trained with firefighters and had volunteered so she could understand.

Now she understood too much.

An hour later, the scene had quieted. While firemen, including the chief, moved through the house, axing open walls to make sure they concealed no fire, others rolled up the hoses. The house still stood, but it was a mess. The outside wall was covered with soot, two window frames charred black. Inside, everything would be ruined by smoke, ash and water. She wondered how much these poor people would be able to salvage.

Pulling out her cell phone, she went to her company's site, logged in and tapped in the address. Her company covered that house. She scanned the firefighters and realized the chief was once again outside, occasionally speaking to his crew. The small crowd of onlookers still lingered, talking to each other. Already she heard plans to help the family. Good people.

No one hindered her passage, and she reached the chief's side. He was preoccupied and didn't immediately notice her. He was still talking to the other firefighters, making sure everything had been taken care of. She was certain he had a running head count going in his mind. She didn't want to interrupt it.

His face was smudged with soot. Apparently he had wiped it a few times, probably to get rid of sweat. The gear he wore was heavy and hot, at least fifty pounds as he was dressed now, more in full paraphernalia. She had worn it and hated it even though her life depended on it.

At last a firefighter came out of the house. "Clear," he called. The second truck, which had been hosing the adjacent structure, was already pulling away. The fire rescue ambulance had departed a while ago.

It was then the chief noticed her. His gray eyes slid over her from top to toe. "Who are you?" he asked bluntly.

"Charity Atkins, Chief. We had a meeting."

He shook his head a little. "Wayne Camden, and the meeting has to wait a little while."

"Of course." She didn't even try for a smile. She held out a card. He looked at it, pulling off one of his huge gloves to take it.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Be sure the family gets it. My company insures this property, too. What happened?"

He had fully placed her now, his mind leaping from the all-important mess in front of him to her purpose in being here. "You're the arson investigator about the Buell fire."

"Yes."

"Well, this wasn't arson. Looks as if a grease fire started on the stove and was mishandled. The woman's burned. Her husband's out of town. You'll have to wait to get your answers."

"I don't want answers. I just want them to know I'll have an adjuster out here tomorrow if possible. We'll cover alternate accommodations."

He nodded. "Fair enough. I need to finish up here. You can wait for me at the station, unless there's something else you want to do."

"I'll see you there." She returned to her car and called her company to give the family a head start on their coverage.

* * *

Randy Dinkum loved fires. He always had, even though it was a relief to open that damned turnout coat and feel cool air on his skin again. As he closed the last panel on the fire truck and got ready to board for the ride back to the station, he looked one more time at the house. Tragic now, but no one had died. Poor woman was a mess, though. He might love fire, but he hated it, too.

He wanted to pat his own back for how well they'd handled the whole thing. It hadn't spread to neighboring houses, although that was always a huge risk in town, what with all these old buildings so close together. Dried out by the years, their frames and siding were practically tinder.

Kind of surprising they hadn't lost the whole house. The interior was wasted, but a contractor should be able to fix that.

"Great job," said the chief, clapping his shoulder briefly before moving on to the next fireman.

Randy beamed, then pulled himself up onto the truck. A few seconds later, Jeff Corner hopped up beside him. "That was a beaut," Jeff said.

"It sure was," Randy agreed. As the truck started moving, he saw the stranger in the business suit drive away. "Who was that woman talking to the chief?"

"Dunno. Heard him tell her to meet him at the station."

"Girlfriend?" Randy suggested. They both laughed. "That'll drive Donna crazy."

"You think he moves in those kinds of circles? That was a fancy suit."

"Wish we saw more of that around here. Damn, I want a cigarette."

Jeff laughed again. "You know what the chief thinks of smoking in public."

"Considering the amount of smoke we breathe on the job, why should he care?"

"Public image," Jeff said knowingly. "Haven't you heard? Gotta be a good example for kids."

The familiar jolting began as they rolled down the street. They weren't a big fire department and didn't have the fanciest equipment, so they hung on to the rear of the truck since they all couldn't fit inside.

Eventually, Jeff and Randy would graduate to inside seats and younger men would stand here. But even hanging on here was better than being a volunteer, those who responded only when needed.

Soon the summer would dry out the grasslands and firefighting would sometimes become a full-time job for them all. Randy liked those times best, not only working to beat back the flames but because firefighters came from everywhere to help out. When they weren't actually facing the flames it was like a big party. A tired party, but still.

And those were the times he felt best about himself. People treated them all like heroes. He guessed they were, actually. Today they'd saved a woman and a baby.

He hadn't known about the baby. No one had. "Say, Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you think no one knew there was a baby in there until Old Man Kroner shouted it out? Was it, like, a secret, or something?"

"I dunno," Jeff answered, leaning as the truck turned into the station. "I thought everyone around here knew everything about everyone."

"Yeah. Kinda weird."

"Well, it looked like it was just born. Maybe the grapevine didn't reach us yet."

"Maybe." Randy pondered that as the truck slowed to a halt. One of the advantages of being in such a small town was you knew who might be in a dwelling when you responded. People didn't get easily overlooked. Which made the Buell arson even weirder. Someone who'd burn a house full of people was scary.

It was troubling, something Randy hoped would be solved—and soon.

Most helpful customer reviews

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Great buy!
By Amazon Customer
Excellent author! She has this great series in conard county and every book is really good. I love the way she ties in older characters once in a while and deals with tough emotions.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Loved it
By S. Frank
Very good book with excellent suspense and a terrific romance. Wayne is frustrated by his inability to find the arsonist plaguing Conard County. The latest fire nearly killed a family and he wants it stopped before someone dies. Charity is the arson investigator for the company that insured the latest victim. Her job is simply to decide if the victim set the fire to defraud the insurance company, but something about this case has her wanting to do more.

Wayne is the single dad of a teenage daughter and eats, sleeps and lives his job. He doesn't have the time or inclination for a new relationship. However, there is something about Charity that makes him want to get closer to her, even though he knows she's only there for a short time. Charity is single, and though she's had a few relationships, they never last. She is very attracted to Wayne, and though she doesn't do short-term hookups, she's really tempted by him.

I loved the development of their relationship. At first it was strictly work, though the attraction was simmering beneath the surface. Because both are so good at what they do, they connect immediately over the investigation. I loved seeing the way they were able to bounce ideas off each other as they tried to find the arsonist. They both acknowledged the attraction but agreed that it couldn't go anywhere. I loved seeing them get to know each other and become friends while trying to resist the heat. Wayne's natural protectiveness came out as the danger to Charity increased. At the same time, Charity's independence and stubbornness had her digging in her heels and insisting on seeing the investigation through.

Both Charity and Wayne had some issues to work through as their feelings for each other grew. Wayne had to let go of the self blame over the dissolution of his marriage and believe that he has a future with a different type of woman. Charity had much more to work through. One of the biggest things was to learn to share her feelings, overcoming the training of her early years. She also has to learn about herself and get past what she thinks she should be doing to what really moves her. I loved Wayne's patience and how he helped her to see that she has the courage to go after what she really wants. I loved the ending and seeing both of them step past their vulnerabilities and fears to embrace a future together. The epilogue was fantastic and gave a good indication of what is in their future.

The suspense side of the story was really good. There was a brief glimpse of the arsonist's point of view, where you see that there is something driving them but you don't really know what. The intensity of the fire, and the danger that Wayne was in definitely grabbed my attention. I loved the way that Wayne asked for Charity's help. Though reluctant at first, she is quickly drawn in. The arsonist shows their worry over being discovered and willingness to do whatever necessary to remain undiscovered. After the first attack on Charity I was pretty sure I knew who was behind it, and by the second I was sure, but I still had questions about all the motivations. One was obvious, but the other was not. I loved the details of the steps that Wayne and Charity were taking as they tried to figure out who it was. As the arsonist became more desperate I was on the edge waiting to see what would happen next. The final attack was scary and I was glad that Wayne was there to save her. The resolution was good, though I would have liked to see Wayne face the arsonist rather than hear about it afterward.

I liked Wayne's daughter Linda very much. She has a great attitude. It was fun to see her tease her father at the same time she was trying to look out for him. It was sweet to see her questioning Charity at dinner, and later as she found ways to throw them together. I loved that the title of the book seems to have come from a comment she made at the end. It was also great to see Maude in all her grumpy glory. Other residents of Conard also made appearances, especially Gage and his part in nabbing the arsonist.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Great book!
By paula legate
I really enjoyed this book. Charity Atkins is a Arson investigator that works for a insurance company. Her main job is to find out if the fire was set by the person, or persons that would be collecting the insurance money. She has sniffed out more frauds than anyone in her department. She became a target when she arrived in the small town of Conard City. The suspense was really good. I never knew when or how Charity would be attacked again. Attack is the wrong word, she was never really attacked. The villain was a coward, and would set up accidents that could end Charity's life. The town had a Arson, and the fire chief Wayne Camden asked for Charity's help to catch the person that was burning homes down. The last fire almost killed a family, including a baby. It was Wayne that rushed out of the burning house, with the baby in his arms. He was quick to put a oxygen mask on the infant, saving the little life. Wayne Welcomes Charity to his small town. He needs her skills, and experience, and she is easy on the eyes. I love how the friendship, and sparks built up throughout the story between Charity, and Wayne. They could bounce around idea's, and at the same time have fun. Wayne had a teenage daughter that was a delight. His daughter was dating the Police chief's son. Needless to say, they couldn't get away with much. His daughter was very mature for her age. She didn't think twice about cooking dinner. I had my suspicions about who was starting the fires, and who was after Charity. It turned out I was right. Hey, Who doesn't like to be right? Great book. I'm sure I will read this one again.

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@ PDF Download Ricochet (Love Inspired Suspense), by Christy Barritt

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When Molly Hamilton returns to her beloved summer camp, she finds nothing but trouble. First she hits a dead body in the road before arriving. Then she discovers the camp director is missing. If that isn't stressful enough, Molly's new boss is none other than Nick White, the man who once broke her heart. Nick and Molly know there's something dangerous going on at Camp Hope Springs. But as the former teenage sweethearts try to uncover the mystery, they discover even more hidden secrets—about the camp and themselves. Saving the camp may not be safe, especially for their hearts.

• Sales Rank: #2534357 in Books
• Published on: 2012-09-04
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .59" w x 4.21" l, .24 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 224 pages

About the Author
Christy Barritt loves stories and has been writing them for as long as she can remember. When she’s not working on books, Christy writes articles for various publications. She’s also a frequent speaker at various writers groups, women’s luncheons and church events. She’s married to Scott, a teacher. They have two sons, two dogs and a houseplant named Martha. For more information, visit her website at: www.christybarritt.com. 

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Thump!

Molly Hamilton's sedan rose and then sank back to the ground as if she'd gone over a speed bump. A really large speed bump.

As she threw on the brakes, every muscle in her body tensed. She gripped the steering wheel, frozen with indecision. The lonely, wooded road slithered in front of her, cloaked by an ominous darkness. The forest had hollow spaces between the trees that just seemed to beckon something dangerous to hide there. Bears. Wildcats. Serial killers.

Molly shook her head. She was being ridiculous. She was an established, professional woman who should have long since outgrown her fear of the woods and nighttime. But some things never died. Memories from her childhood filled her, but she pushed them away. Not now.

Shakes overcame her anyway.

She looked in the rearview mirror and saw the red of her brake lights reflecting off the asphalt. Darkness swallowed everything else. Fear threatened to swallow her.

Whatever she'd hit still lay underneath her car. Her sedan had risen and fallen once, which meant that the front tires had gone over something, but not the back.

Probably just a deer, she rationalized. Perhaps someone else had hit the animal and left the poor creature in the road. The country lane was so narrow and winding, and outside was so dark. She'd rounded the corner and, just as she'd done so, seen a flash of something on the street. Before she could brake, she felt the thump against her wheels. The thump of a deer against her wheels.

Her throat went dry. She was going to have to get out of the car and check. Right?

Oh Lord, help me, please. I don't want to open this car door.

Why had she even agreed to come to the backwoods of Virginia's Northern Neck? What exactly had she been thinking when she begged for this temporary summer job in the middle of nowhere at Camp Hope Springs?

Closure, she remembered. She'd wanted closure, to go back to one of the happiest places of her youth. She had so many fond memories of her last summer of innocence, of being carefree and hopeful. Then she'd grown up and life had happened. Responsibilities had surrounded her and not let her go. She'd left her childhood behind right along with campfires and vesper services.

Her thoughts and reminiscing of the past only delayed the inevitable. She needed a plan, and she needed to get the yet-to-be-decided-on action over with. She rested her head against the steering wheel, flabbergasted by her own indecision. She couldn't simply sit here in the middle of the road all night.

The silver of her cell phone on the seat beside her caught her eye. She grabbed the device and flipped it open. What were the chances that she'd find reception out here? She blinked when she saw one bar left on her signal.

The cops. She could call the cops.

She lowered the phone to her lap. And tell the police what? That she may have just hit a deer? They'd think she was crazy and rightfully so. She rubbed her forehead in irritation, staring at her headlights as they illuminated the deserted road before her. Camp Hope Springs was only a mile or two away at the most.

That settled it. She had to get out of the car and find out what had just happened. Just sitting here and thinking about the possibilities over and over would drive her crazy.

She grabbed the door handle and pulled until the latch clicked open. After taking another deep breath, she pushed the door out wide.

The smell of damp earth, of thick, wet leaves and tree branches ripe with moss and fungi filled the car. Crickets sang their songs. Leaves tippity-tapped together in the light breeze. Heavy summer air floated inside, covering Molly with its sticky, invisible fingers.

She fumbled through the glove compartment for a minute before finding a small flashlight. She twisted the top of it and a small ray of light sliced the air. It was better than nothing, she supposed.

She dropped one foot onto the ground and then the other. The woods still seemed to be staring at her, unknown dangers just waiting to pounce when she was least expecting it. She shivered despite the summer heat.

She squatted and shined her light under the car. Something off-white lay center beneath her vehicle.

A deer?

She moved her flashlight along the length of the creature.

Was that something blue? Maybe just the asphalt reflecting onto the deer's fur, she wanted to believe. And that splotch of white? Deer had white splotches, right?

She moved her flashlight up farther. Near her front bumper, her heart seemed to stop.

Eyes stared back at her. Not deer eyes. Human eyes.

She'd hit someone. As a trained nurse she didn't have to touch the man to know that he was dead.

"I didn't see anything!" Molly insisted to the sheriff again. "I simply turned at the bend in the road and heard a thump. It was dark—frighteningly so." It was still frighteningly dark, she thought, wrapping her arms around herself. A chill seemed to emanate from the woods now and each whisper from the crickets seemed ominous, like those creatures knew something that she didn't.

They knew she shouldn't have driven through the woods at night.

The sheriff—a pudgy man with a soft jawline and full head of incredibly thick, dark hair—stared at her and then back at her car. Somewhere in the background, an owl hooted. The sound seemed almost mocking to Molly.

"The medical examiner is on her way. Maybe we'll have more answers then," Sheriff Spruill finally said. "Where did you say you were headed again?"

"Camp Hope Springs. I'll be working as a nurse there this summer."

"I'll need to talk to someone there to verify this."

"No problem. Gene Alan hired me. I'm sure he'll be happy to verify my reason for being out here at this hour."

"Gene Alan isn't at the camp anymore."

Molly blinked several times. "What do you mean? He hired me. Said I start tomorrow. When the campers arrive."

"No, he left about a week ago. Heard they got a new guy."

Great. Did she even have a job now? Where would she go if not to Camp Hope Springs? She'd given up the lease on her apartment. She had no job. No one else would hire her right now, not with the allegations that had been made against her—even if they'd been proven unfounded.

Headlights eased down the road, reminding Molly of two glowing eyes slithering toward them. The medical examiner? Molly wondered.

A pickup truck came to a stop in front of them. The vehicle looked much too old and beat-up to belong to the medical examiner. At least that's what Molly imagined. She watched as a tall man stepped out, his feet practically bouncing against the asphalt as he emerged. She blinked again as the man came into focus. She soaked in his messy, light-brown hair, the dimple on his chin, his worn, dusty jeans and the plaid shirt that was just fitted enough to show flat abs and broad shoulders.

"Nick White?" Molly nearly gasped as she said the word.

The man stepped toward her and squinted. "Molly Hamilton?"

"What are you doing here?" Molly asked, just as he blurted, "Why are you here?"

Molly stepped back, shock threatening to freeze her limbs and vocal cords. "You first."

"I work out here now. At Camp Hope Springs." He stared at her, unblinking, as if that same shock had overcome him. "Your turn."

The words seemed to stick in her throat. "I'm reporting for my first day of work."

"Out where?"

"At Camp Hope Springs." As soon as she said the words, she wanted to hide, to run. Surely Nick could see the vulnerability in her eyes at the mere mention of the camp. Certainly he knew how special the place was to her. He'd been part of the reason it was so special all those years ago.

Coming back here had been desperate and Nick would see right through her. Maybe she should turn and run and go back… Go back where? She had nowhere to go.

He rubbed his chin, his eyes looking perplexed. "Why in the world would you think that you needed to report to work at Camp Hope Springs?"

Why did he make it sound so outrageous? Maybe because he thought she wasn't religious enough to work at a Christian summer camp? "Because…because…they hired me to be their nurse for the summer."

His eyes narrowed. "I think I would know about that."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm the camp director."

"Camp director? That's impossible. I would never have accepted the job if I'd thought you were the camp director!" Her hand flew over her mouth. Had she really just said those words aloud? She'd in no way intended to do that, but there was so snatching them back now.

"I guess I deserved that one."

The heat rose in Molly's cheeks. She hadn't intended on ever letting him know just how much he'd hurt her when he'd broken her heart all those years ago. But her old pain had risen to the surface. She'd just ended one relationship with a man who'd left her feeling belittled and weak. Being around someone else who'd broken her heart just firmed up her resolve for independence. She had to be strong, prove to herself that she was nothing like her mother when it came to men.

But a part of her wanted to turn around and run. But she wouldn't. She couldn't.

The two of them stared at each other.

The sheriff cleared his throat and they both turned to look at him. He shifted, as if uncomfortable. "Could we get back to the matters at hand now?"

Nick flicked his eyes away from Molly to look at the sheriff's car and then to Molly's sedan. His hands went to his hips just as his eyebrows drew together. "What matters would that be? What's going on here?"

The sheriff raised his chin and looked at Molly. "This young lady appears to have hit someone while driving out here."

Nick's eyebrows flicked up before his concerned gaze settled on Molly. "Hit...

Most helpful customer reviews

5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Review of Ricochet
By Susan Simpson
Christy Barritt's Ricochet will not disappoint either romance or suspense lovers. Nurse Molly Hamilton encounters her first mystery on page one while driving to her new job at the summer camp she attended as a teen. More problems and dangers loom once Molly arrives at Camp Hope Springs--including a hazard to her heart in the form of Nick White, her former boyfriend.
Will Molly and Nick be able to solve the mysteries at Camp Hope Springs? Will they be able to keep the campers, staff, and themselves safe? Will they be able to prevent the closure of the camp? Will they be able to put the past behind them and forge a new relationship?
These are questions the reader ponders throughout the novel. The suspense persists until the very end. Characters and plot are well-constructed, interesting, and plausible. Description is such that the reader can imagine herself running through the woods with Molly.
As a fellow fiction writer, I salute Christy Barritt and give Ricochet the highest rating. Keep up the great work, Christy!
Susan Simpson, author of Ginger and the Bully (S.E. Simpson)
[...]

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Ricochet
By Lollipops
Molly Hamilton has been hired as a nurse for the summer at the camp where she spent her summers. She has fond memories of camp, and is looking forward to spending time there again. But on her way out to the camp, she hits a speed bump - one that turns out to be a man. Molly is stressed that she might've killed someone, and the responding officer seems to think Molly hit the man deliberately.

Nick White is back after his military stint, working as director at the camp when the original director, Gene, went missing. Gene hadn't taken any of his personal effects, and hadn't told anyone about hiring a nurse for the summer. Nick hires Molly after learning her training, but he warns her that the camp isn't what it used to be.

When Nick and Molly arrive at the camp, someone shoots at them. Who? Why? What happened to Gene? The camp is shrouded in mystery, campers are arriving, and the camp isn't safe for anyone. How will Nick and Molly keep the campers and their hearts safe?

RICOCHET is the latest book by talented author Christy Barritt. I love her cozy mysteries, and her romantic suspense are good, but with a different feel. The spookiness starts right away, making me almost afraid to read the book after dark in the national forest I live in.

Molly is a realistic character, running from false allegations that ruined her life and trying to find a fresh start at a place that once held pleasant memories. Nick is filling in for his flighty cousin, (Gene) and struggling to set a camp right that has gone downhill since his teen years. He is a sweet hero, kind, considerate, and strong. Readers of romantic suspense won't want to miss this book. Discussion questions are included at the end of the book.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Great Suspanse
By Kindle Customer
Ricochet had action from start to finish. Definitely not a book I'd read while home alone at night.:) I also enjoyed the elements of romance as the two main characters worked to overcome misconceptions and misunderstandings from their past.

Ricochet tells the story of Molly, a nurse who returns to the summer camp she'd attended for a week in high school. She had fond memories of the camp and wanted to return to the place she'd been the happiest while she figures out what is next in her life.

Nick is the new camp director and Molly's old boyfriend from her week at camp. He inherited the camp from his grandfather and is doing everything he can to keep the place afloat. But strange things are happening and from the moment Molly enters his life again danger and mystery abound.

See all 30 customer reviews...

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HUNTED BY THE ENEMY 

When she's attacked by animal traffickers in the zoo she's been brought on to rehabilitate, Elise Tanner begins to doubt the wisdom of returning home after decades away. Especially because her self-appointed protector is US Marshal Jonah Rivers. Jonah isn't just the brother of her dead husband. He's the man who's consumed her dreams for far too long. Jonah needs to come to terms with Elise's long-held secrets—including the fact that he's now uncle to a teenager. But Jonah and Elise have more pressing matters: conquering the dangerous forces around the zoo before they fall victim to them…

• Sales Rank: #3079661 in Books
• Published on: 2015-09-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.58" h x .59" w x 4.22" l, .24 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 224 pages

About the Author
A British ex-pat, Lisa loves high-stakes stories of mayhem and disaster where you can find made-for-each-other love that always ends in happily ever after. Lisa leads worship with her husband at their church. They have two kids and an all-black Airedale.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
First day on the job, first day back in her hometown—and Elise Tanner had no idea what to expect. The evening cast shadows in the corners between the portable buildings that housed the zoo's offices. The treatment and feed centers were now broken-down shells of buildings across the expanse of intersecting concrete pathways from the empty enclosures. The fifty-acre zoo looked menacing even in its disrepair.

Beside her, Elise's seventeen-year-old son, Nathan, switched the flashlight app on his phone and held it up, shining it around the zoo's entrance.

"Nice place." He flicked the hair out of his eyes and looked at her, his gaze wide at the state of the zoo. "I'm gonna go look around."

She smiled, sharing his impression of a facility that might have been impressive before it was completely flooded out. At least, impressive for a tiny zoo in a small town. "Be careful."

He would be, she knew that. Nathan had lived his whole life in a wild animal sanctuary surrounded by tigers, bears and even a manatee. He got along better with creatures than people most of the time, but she couldn't help worrying. Who knew what state the zoo was in beyond the entrance area? Most of the buildings had been condemned.

They probably should have waited until tomorrow to look around, but curiosity had gotten the better of her and it wasn't totally dark. What was the point in sitting around their hotel rooms when they could check the place out? After all, fixing it up was the reason they were here.

Elise climbed the wooden steps to the office. It was late, and they'd been driving most of the day. She felt every one of her forty years tonight.

The stairs swayed, the rickety wood threatening to collapse under her extra fifteen pounds—the ones her best friend said were all in her head. Everything here had been drowned under dirty water that had risen higher than anyone expected. It was no wonder the stairs were almost rotted out.

The infrastructure of the zoo had been woefully outdated even before the water, but the destruction that occurred was beyond imagining. Trees downed, and fences washed away. Enclosures had been completely ruined. The water quality in the lake didn't bear thinking about, and the zoo's old, blind tiger had gone missing weeks before and had not been seen since. Fortunately the animals had been transported out of town in the initial evacuation.

She was going to have to rebuild this whole place from scratch.

Elise had read all about the flood online, far away from her Oregon hometown in a wild-animal sanctuary she'd been working at in Idaho. It was where she'd gone to escape the pain and grief of losing her husband just weeks into his first deployment. She'd spent years pouring into Nathan and her animals in that safe haven. Now she was home. For as long as this took, at least.

Elise had no illusions. She'd been headhunted by the mayor because she'd grown up here, and because she was also the only person he knew who was qualified to manage his zoo.

It had taken a lot for Elise to leave her safe haven, but Nathan would be headed to college soon. She had to pay his tuition somehow.

As long as she could manage to not run into anything that reminded her of those long-ago days. At least not before she handed the running of the zoo off to someone else, then she just might survive this with her heart intact.

Maybe.

Inside the office was dark, but she could hear someone moving around. Elise flipped the light switch. Nothing. Not that she'd expected the power to be on, but wishful thinking had to count for something.

Elise pulled the flashlight from the belt of her "animal worker" outfit of dark green cargo pants and a dark green buttoned shirt. There was no sense in getting her regular clothes torn or dirty from the devastation, so she'd worn her work uniform from the Idaho sanctuary.

She flipped the flashlight on and shone the light at the figure. A man. "Who are you?"

The drab-clothed guy turned around. The dead eyes of a stranger stared back at her, making the pale skin of his face even starker. Probably not much older than her, he didn't remove his hands from the filing cabinet drawer where he'd been riffling through papers. They were her papers now, in her office.

His eyebrow rose. "I think the question is, who are you??"

Elise had dealt with trespassers before. But never an overly curious one. They usually only wanted to take a souvenir, or to leave their mark—with vandalism.

Elise set her hands on her hips and tried to look authoritative even though she was barely five-three. She studied his face, trying to remember if she'd met him when she lived here before. She didn't think he was anyone she used to know, and he evidently didn't care she'd seen his face. "I'm in charge of this zoo now. You need to leave the premises before I call the cops."

Tree limbs brushed the window of the portable building. There were two desks and a row of file cabinets, most of which had open drawers. Papers were all over the place, like a gust of wind had blown them into disarray—or this guy had been searching awhile.

His eyes narrowed and he ran at her.

Elise tried to dodge him, but he slammed into her like a football player single-handedly tackling the opposing team's defensive line. Breath whooshed from her lungs as her back hit the wall. The flashlight slipped from her hand to light a strip of carpet on the floor.

Dazed, she realized the man was reaching for her belt. She heard the jangle of keys and felt the pull that meant he was trying to take them from her. The retractable string holding the key ring on her belt was pulled all the way out as the man backed up. With a vicious yank he tore the string from its clasp, taking the zoo keys with it.

Elise reached for her cell phone, but it wasn't in the holder on her belt. It must have fallen out. She looked around, but the floor was in shadows except for the beam of her flashlight.

The man moved. Elise tried to track his steps in the dim light, but couldn't get a fix on him. Dark overcoat. He was taller than her, maybe five-seven. The heavy material gave the illusion of bulk, but he'd had plenty of strength to slam her against the wall.

She moved toward the back door, just a step, praying the route was clear. The man swung at her, something hard colliding with her back. The impact sent her to her knees. Elise scrabbled around on the floor, praying her cell was close by. Nathan didn't need to come here and get hurt, but he could get help. Another hit sent her to the floor so she lay prone, stunned. Pain held her lungs frozen so she couldn't get air.

All she could do was watch as the man went to the same file cabinet he'd been looking in only minutes ago and pulled out a handful of papers. His dirty loafer nearly stomped her hand as he ran past where she lay, out the door.

Elise lay there helpless, waiting for someone to find her. She glanced around, trying to spot her phone. Her eyes caught on something taped to the underside of the desk. Wires. Blocks of gray stuff that looked like molding clay.

A bomb?

Jonah Rivers keyed the mic on his collar as he ran. "The fugitive is headed into the zoo. I'm in pursuit."

The man he chased had lived on chips and cigarettes for years, while Jonah ate as healthy as any other single deputy US marshal. He also worked out every day but Monday—because Mondays were bad enough without adding having to work out. Jonah headed up the Northwest fugitive apprehension task force, US marshals who hunted the lowest of the low—those who had escaped custody, or hadn't shown up for their court appearances. Fugitives. The most wanted.

Eventually Fix Tanner would slow, and Jonah was going to catch him. It was what he did.

Too bad Fix Tanner and his little sister had been a steady part of Jonah's youth. Although Fix had always held himself separate from Jonah and his brother—the rich kids. Fix and his sister had grown up in a double-wide with their alcoholic mom.

Now it was just another day, just another fugitive.

A car with out-of-state plates and a sticker in the back window—a rental—was parked outside the entrance. Jonah ran, legs pumping, hands gripping his Glock in front of him. Sweat chilled on his forehead as he jumped over strewn two-by-fours, branches and other debris. The floodwaters had reached roof height, and this place was a mess.

He'd been chasing this guy for two miles already. Had Fix found a place to hunker down?

Jonah didn't know of any connection the man had to the zoo, now or back when it'd been open. The previous manager had been killed in the flood, his body never found. Jonah had heard they were bringing in someone new to reopen it, some kind of wild-animal expert. But he had bigger things to worry about than an attraction he was never going to visit.

"We're coming in the east entrance but there's a lot of debris." Hanning's voice was breathy.

Deputy Marshal Eric Hanning was a member of Jonah's team. He was also engaged to another teammate, Deputy Marshal Hailey Shelder. The two had fallen in love after they were forced to rely on each other during the recent flood, when the team had been hunting an escaped convict.

Jonah had been shot in the stomach, and promoted, all during that same manhunt. Now he was in charge of not just the team but the whole office.

Of course Jonah had wanted the job one day, but not like that—not because their former boss had turned bad. The team hadn't seemed to mind, even though it took a few weeks recovering from his wounds for Jonah to settle in. Boss or not, Jonah would always be a boots-on-the-ground kind of marshal.

The man he was chasing now was low-level. Fix Tanner hadn't shown up for his court appearance, but Jonah wanted him for more than just the fact that he should be in jail. Fix had a boss. Fix's boss had a boss. That made for a lot of fingers in a lot of pies, all of which were here in his town. Jonah wanted charges brought against all of them.

The door was open on the first building, so Jonah stepped silently up the stairs, slowing his pace. Blood rushed in his head, and the beat of his heart pounded in his ears in the silence. If one of his team radioed in now, the sound would be deafening.

While Hanning and Shelder took the east entrance, his other two team members, Jackson Parker and Wyatt Ames—a former SEAL and a former police detective, respectively—were on the west side. The zoo wasn't all that big. Fifty acres. It should take minutes for them to meet in the center where the lake was.

Jonah flipped on his flashlight and scanned the room.

The beam moved over a body—a woman. Jonah crouched and touched her shoulder. She shifted, moaning as though the soft touch hurt, but it was her warmth that sent a rush of relief through him. He couldn't help her if she was dead, and murder investigations weren't his jurisdiction.

Jonah pulled out his cell phone and called emergency dispatch, then informed his teammates of what he'd found. "Anyone got a location on Tanner?"

"Negative."

"Not yet." Parker's determination was only in part due to his having been a SEAL. The man was also incredibly stubborn.

"Keep searching," Jonah said. "I'll wait with her."

"Her?" The interest in Ames's voice was unmistakable.

"She's hurt, Ames. But it's not Tanner, it's a woman."

Jonah turned his attention to her. Had Fix Tanner done this? He wouldn't put it past the man, but Jonah had been chasing him only minutes ago. Now Fix was who knew where, and this woman had been hurt because Jonah wasn't fast enough.

Was his wound slowing him down? It was down to a dull ache most days, and he didn't want to keep to his desk, but he didn't want to put the team—or anyone else—in jeopardy, either.

He shouldn't turn the woman if she was injured, but he brushed the hair back from her face enough to see who it was.

His voice was a whisper. "Elise."

Flashes of the past ran through his brain like a movie reel. Cookouts, the lake and little Elise Tanner. They'd been friends all the time he was in high school, right up until he joined the marines. And then come home from deployment to find she'd married his brother.

Crumpled in a heap on the floor wasn't just any woman. This happened to be the one woman in the world he'd never imagined he would ever see again, and now she was here. Jonah sank to his knees beside her and checked his watch. Emergency services wouldn't be long.

"Elise?" He patted her cheek. It couldn't be a coincidence she was here on the exact day Jonah was chasing her brother.

The years had changed both of them—that much was obvious. Still, in his heart she was the same smiling, teenage girl. Years lay between today and the day Jonah had returned from yet another deployment to discover she'd left town, consumed with her grief over his brother being killed in action.

For months his heart had warred between acknowledging she was simply grieving and the fact she hadn't wanted him to help her through it. They'd had a close relationship once, but that apparently didn't matter. She hadn't trusted Jonah enough to be there for her when she needed it. She'd just banked the death benefits and left his mom's pool house without so much as a note.

Chasing her down and demanding an explanation—or just making sure she was okay—wouldn't have brought him any kind of satisfaction. She'd probably hated him for talking his brother into a military career. He'd hated himself well enough that Jonah hadn't figured he could handle her anger on top of his guilt.

What was she doing back in town after all these years? He didn't want to believe it had something to do with her brother, Fix, but if it did, then Jonah would have to face the consequences.

"Elise." Jonah didn't want to admit how much it hurt just saying her name. He refused to admit he'd missed her, even to himself.

She sucked in a breath and coughed it out. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, but she wasn't looking at him.

"Elise."

She pointed behind him. Jonah turned, but couldn't see what she was trying to show him. Did she even know who he was? A guttural noise emerged from her throat.

"EMTs will be here in a minute." He could hear the ambulance's siren, close enough it was probably turning from Hancock onto the road that led to the zoo.

Her mouth moved, her lips forming a word he didn't understand.

"Elise, I don't know what you're saying." His stomach churned. What had happened to her? This woman was dressed for a safari, but the zoo was a wreck. No one should even be here.

"Elise."

Her face reddened. Her mouth moved again, and she managed to say, "Bomb."

Jonah understood that word. He grabbed up his flashlight and spun to shine it in the direction she'd pointed. Taped to the underside of the grimy desk, it was no bigger than the lockbox for a handgun.

He swiped Elise from the floor, lifting her body easily the way he'd done plenty of times in his mom's pool. He burst from the office door into the night, vaulting the steps.

The building behind them exploded in a boom and a rush of flames.

Most helpful customer reviews

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Easy Prey
By Linda Kamola
Very good book..Full of suspense, excitement, and action. With a few surprises thrown in. Hard to put the book down once you started it.

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Awesome!
By Glenda Parker
I always enjoy Lisa's books, she writes a mean suspense. This book is no exception; it's well written, action packed, and faith filled. Her characters although flawed are intriguing. I know you will love this book.
Elise Tanner returns home to rehabilitate the zoo that was destroyed in a devastating storm. She never planned to return to the town that had almost destroyed her; two decades ago she walked away from her husbands funeral and never looked back. She didn't know what to expect from her family or her husband's family when they saw the son she never told them about. As Nathan and Elise check out the zoo she is attacked and rescued by her former brother-in-law, a man she once loved but he had left her to survive alone.
US Marshall Jonah Rivers has always been drawn to Elise but she was to young for him. Thinking she would wait for him he joined the military but she married his brother. Soon after his brother's death she disappeared and he was unable to find her. Now in pursuit of her outlaw brother he finds her attacked and in need of protection. Is she involved in something with her brother? Could she have change that much? As he meets Nathan it's like looking into the eyes of his brother. He must keep these two safe.
A journey of two broken people as they struggle against ruthless men that only want them dead. They learn that God is the only one that will be able to get them out of this mess. God has a plan. God has a plan for each of us if we will reach out and trust him. It will be far greater than anything you ever dreamed of.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Loved it!
By luv2read
I’m going to start by admitting that I’m a huge fan of Ms. Phillips’, so this review may be slightly biased. I’ve adored all of her books to date and am eagerly anticipating anything she might publish next! This book was definitely no different for me and quickly became a favorite. There is no doubt in my mind that Lisa knows how to keep her readers on the edge of their seats! I didn’t want to put it down and was constantly bemoaning the fact that I had to go to work and couldn’t just read it in one sitting. I spent more than a few hours wondering what would happen next and trying to guess where the story might go, since I wasn’t able to actually find out.
I love Lisa’s writing style! It’s very unique and the stories come to brilliant life within the pages. Her books are very realistic in that I can easily imagine myself there, in the situation right beside the characters. I love the details she includes, as well as the ones she leaves to my overactive imagination. She doesn’t overcomplicate something that could be said in just a few words and is rather straight to the point, unless she intentionally wants to keep the reader guessing, then I’m never sure what’s happening or where the story is heading. I enjoy the mystery of that, wondering what might go wrong next.
For me, the characters always jump off the page, and these are no exception. I adored Elise, Jonah, Nathan, and the whole team (which we met in Manhunt). Elise Tanner has had to be strong her whole life, so there is an underlying strength in everything she does and how she reacts to a situation. She’s made her share of mistakes, but is back hoping to right them, while also doing the job she loves. I loved her faith in God that led her to rely on Him through everything that’s going on, even when doubt begins to creep in and fear would be the expected reaction.
Jonah Rivers is a great hero and I enjoyed getting to know him. While there’s a part of me that wants to say he’s somewhat stereotypical, he’s really not, when I stop and think about it. First off, yes, he’s a U.S. Marshall and yes, he was in the military, but that’s where the comparison to other books end. Though he’s strong, he’s had his strength tested and has learned his limits. He’s a little reckless, but it’s been tempered with time and experience. There’s also an underlying vulnerability when it comes to Elise. He’s loved her for years, but walked away because he felt it was for the best.
I loved seeing Jonah and Elisa get to know each other again and learn what real love looks like. Both have grown and changed over their time apart, so it was the little things, the important details, the changes in character, that they had to rediscover. I actually enjoyed the fact that their relationship isn’t the driving force of the story, though it is a romance. It allowed the time frame to be more realistic, and let’s be honest: If someone is trying to kill you, and you’re being shot at often, how focused are you going to be on romantic entanglements? I usually find these books a bit unrealistic in that aspect, but not so much in this one.
Aside from the suspense, I think my favorite part of this book was the spiritual side of the story. It never came across as overbearing or preachy and Lisa touches on several points that I needed to hear right now. I appreciated the honest questions the characters ask and the answers given in return. There are rarely perfect answers and the author doesn’t try to give them, but is rather very authentic in the ones she does share. I love a book that shifts my focus and requires I stop and think, consider something from a different angle and this one does that.
I can honestly say that I have no complaints about any part of this book. I loved every page of the ride and am excitedly anticipating whatever is next for this author!
I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoyed suspense that keeps you guessing, with than ending that made me sigh.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author for my honest review, which I have given. I was not required to write a positive review and have not been compensated for it in any way. All opinions expressed are my own.

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#1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Nora Roberts presents classic stories of two unlikely couples who choose…love!

Dual Image

Playing Booth DeWitt's cruel ex-wife in his semiautobiographical film is the chance of a lifetime for actor Ariel Kirkwood. Not only is it a giant boon for her career, but she also gets to work with the screenwriter himself. Since getting to know him, Ariel can't get the aloof, sexy Booth out of her mind. She'd love to be his real leading lady, but with each passing day he becomes more distant. Now Ariel must convince Booth to see her for the woman she is, not the one she was hired to portray….

Untamed

The circus is no place for a lawyer! But that's exactly where Keane Prescott finds himself, as the new owner of his late father's circus. Keane has no interest in the Big Top, until he meets Jovilette Wilder. She had a special bond with his father but has made it clear she wants Keane to leave her and her circus alone! Yet Jo is impossible to resist—at once graceful, fearless, commanding and about as unpredictable as the lions she tames. She just may be the best thing his father left him…but can he tame her wild heart before it's too late?

• Sales Rank: #1700289 in Books
• Published on: 2010-05-25
• Released on: 2010-05-25
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 8.00" h x 1.04" w x 5.13" l, .59 pounds
• Binding: Paperback
• 400 pages

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Balancing a bag of groceries in one arm, Amanda let herself into the house. She radiated happiness. From outside came the sound of birds singing in the spring sunshine. The gold of her wedding ring caught the light. As a newlywed of three months, she was anxious to prepare a special, intimate dinner as a surprise for Cameron. Her demanding hours at the hospital and clinic often made it impossible for her to cook, and as a new bride she found pleasure in it. This afternoon, with two appointments unexpectedly canceled, she intended to fix something fancy, time-consuming and memorable. Something that went well with candlelight and wine.

As she entered the kitchen she was humming, a rare outward show of emotion for she was a reserved woman. With a satisfied smile, she drew a bottle of Cameron's favorite Bordeaux from the bag. As she studied the label, a smile lingered on her face while she remembered the first time they'd shared a bottle. He'd been so romantic, so attentive, so much what she'd needed at that point in her life.

A glance at her watch told her she had four full hours before her husband was expected home. Time enough to prepare an elaborate meal, light the candles and set out the crystal.

First, she decided, she was going upstairs to get out of her practical suit and shoes. There was a silk caftan upstairs, sheer, in misty shades of blue. Tonight, she wouldn't be a psychiatrist, but a woman, a woman very much in love.

The house was scrupulously neat and tastefully decorated. Such things came naturally to Amanda. As she walked toward the stairs, she glanced at a vase of Baccarat crystal and wished fleetingly she'd remembered fresh flowers. Perhaps she'd call the florist and have something extravagant delivered. Her hand trailed lightly over the polished banister as she started up. Her eyes, usually serious or intent, were dreamy. Carelessly, she pushed open the bedroom door.

Her smile froze. Utter shock replaced it. As she stood in the doorway, all color seemed to drain out of her cheeks. Her eyes grew huge before pain filled them. Out of her mouth came one anguished word.

"Cameron."

The couple in bed, locked in a passionate embrace, sprang apart. The man, smoothly handsome, his sleek hair disheveled, stared up in disbelief. The woman—feline, sultry, stunning—smiled very, very slowly. You could almost hear her purr.

"Vikki." Amanda looked at her sister with anguished eyes.

"You're home early." There was a hint, only a suspicion of a laugh in her sister's voice.

Cameron put a few more inches between himself and his sister-in-law. "Amanda, I…"

In one split second, Amanda's face contorted. With her eyes locked on the couple in bed, she reached in her jacket pocket and drew out a small, lethal revolver. The lovers stared at it in astonishment, and in silence. Coolly, she aimed and fired. A puff of confetti burst out.

"Ariel!"

Dr. Amanda Lane Jamison, better known as Ariel Kirkwood, turned to her harassed director as the couple in bed and members of the television crew dissolved into laughter.

"Sorry, Neal, I couldn't help myself. Amanda's always the victim," she said dramatically while her eyes danced. "Just think what it might do for the ratings if she lost her cool just once and murdered someone."

"Look, Ariel—"

"Or even just seriously injured them," she went on rapidly. "And who," she continued, flinging her hand toward the bed, "deserves it more than her spineless husband and scheming sister?"

At the hoots and applause of the crew, Ariel took a bow, then reluctantly turned over her weapon to her director when he held out his hand.

"You," he said with a long-suffering sigh, "are a certified loony, and have been since I've known you."

"I appreciate that, Neal."

"This time the tape's going to be running," he warned and tried not to grin. "Let's see if we can shoot this scene before lunch."

Agreeably, Ariel went down to the first floor of the set. She stood patiently while her hair and makeup were touched up. Amanda was always perfection. Organized, meticulous, calm—all the things Ariel herself wasn't. She'd played the character for just over five years on the popular daytime soap opera Our Lives, Our Loves.

In those five years, Amanda had graduated with honors from college, had earned her degree in psychiatric medicine and had gone on to become a respected therapist. Her recent marriage to Cameron Jamison appeared to be made in heaven. But, of course, he was a weak opportunist who'd married her for her money and social position, while lusting after her sister—and half the female population of the fictional town of Trader's Bend.

Amanda was about to be confronted with the truth. The story line had been leading up to this revelation for six weeks, and the letters from viewers had poured in. Both they and Ariel thought it was about time Amanda found out about her louse of a husband.

Ariel liked Amanda, respected her integrity and poise. When the cameras rolled, Ariel was Amanda. While in her personal life she would much prefer a day at an amusement park to an evening at the ballet, she understood all the nuances of the woman she portrayed.

When this scene was aired, viewers would see a neat, slender woman with pale blond hair sleeked back into a sophisticated knot. The face was porcelain, stunning, with an icy kind of beauty that sent out signals of restrained sexuality. Class. Style.

Lake-blue eyes, high curved cheekbones added to the look of polished elegance. A perfectly shaped mouth tended toward serious smiles. Finely arched brows that were shades darker than the delicate blond of her hair accented luxurious lashes. A flawless beauty, perfectly composed—that was Amanda.

Ariel waited for her cue and wondered vaguely if she'd turned off her coffeepot that morning.

They ran through the scene again, from cue to cut, then a second time when it was discovered that Vikki's strapless bathing suit could be seen when she shifted in bed. Then came reaction shots—the camera zoomed in close on Amanda's pale, shocked face and held for several long, dramatic seconds.

"Lunch."

Response was immediate. The lovers bounded out of either side of the bed. In his bathing trunks, J. T. Brown, Ariel's onscreen husband, took her by the shoulders and gave her a long hard kiss. "Look, sweetie," he began, staying in character, "I'll explain about all this later. Trust me. I gotta call my agent."

"Wimp," Ariel called after him with a very un-Amandalike grin before she hooked her arm through that of Stella Powell, her series sister. "Pull something over that suit, Stella. I can't face the commissary food today."

Stella tossed back her tousled mass of auburn hair. "You buying?"

"Always sponging off your sister," Ariel mumbled. "Okay, I'll spring, but hurry up. I'm starving."

On her way to her dressing room, Ariel walked off the set, then through two more—the fifth floor of Doctors Hospital and the living room of the Lanes, Trader Bend's leading family. It was tempting to shed her costume and take down her hair, but it would only mean fooling with wardrobe and makeup after lunch. Instead, she just grabbed her purse, an outsize hobo bag that looked a bit incongruous with Amanda's elegant business suit. She was already thinking about a thick slice of baklava soaked in honey.

"Come on, Stella." Ariel stuck her head in the adjoining dressing room as Stella zipped up a pair of snug jeans. "My stomach's on overtime."

"It always is," her coworker returned as she pulled on a bulky sweatshirt. "Where to?"

"The Greek deli around the corner." More than ready, Ariel started down the hall in her characteristically long, swinging gait while Stella hurried to keep up. It wasn't that Ariel rushed from place to place, but simply that she wanted to see what was next.

"My diet," Stella began.

"Have a salad," Ariel told her without mercy. She turned her head to give Stella a quick up-and-down glance. "You know, if you weren't always wearing those skimpy outfits on camera, you wouldn't have to starve yourself."

Stella grinned as they came to the street door. "Jealous."

"Yeah. I'm always elegant and always proper. You have all the fun." Stepping outside, Ariel took a deep breath of New York. She loved it—had always loved it in a way usually reserved for tourists. Ariel had lived on the long thin island of Manhattan all of her life, and yet it remained an adventure to her. The sights, the smells, the sounds.

It was brisk for mid-April, and threatening to rain. The air was damp and smelled of exhaust. The streets and sidewalks were clogged with lunchtime traffic—everyone hurrying, everyone with important business to attend to. A pedestrian swore and banged a fist on the hood of a cab that had clipped too close to the curb. A woman with spiked orange hair hustled by in black leather boots. Somone had written something uncomplimentary on a poster for a hot Broadway play. But Ariel saw a street vendor selling daffodils.

She bought two bunches and handed one to Stella.

"You can never pass up anything, can you?" Stella mumbled, but buried her face in the yellow blooms.

"Think of all I'd miss," Ariel countered. "Besides, it's spring."

Stella shivered and looked up at the leaden sky. "Sure."

"Eat." Ariel grabbed her arm and pulled her along. "You always get cranky when you miss meals."

The deli was packed with people and aromas. Spices and honey. Beer and oil. Always a creature of the senses, Ariel drew in the mingled scents before she worked her way to the counter. She had an uncanny way of getting where she was going through a throng without using her elbows or stepping on toes. While she moved, she watched and listened. She wouldn't want to miss a scent, or the texture of a voice, or the c...

Most helpful customer reviews

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Awesome love stories
By Lanna Vercauteren
I loved the 2 stories in this book. I am a sucker for a good romance novel and Nora Roberts draws me in everytime. I especially loved the second story about the circus.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Summer Dreams
By Pamela Shaw
The book was very good and I would recommed this book to my friends. Nora Roberts is a good writer and story teller and I will continue reading her books

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book addict
By cindy
got this recently arrived in good shape. i love nora roberts books in any form except scifi, i look foward to reading it when i can

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Irish Rebel

From the moment she met him, Keeley Grant knew there was something wild about Brian Donnelly. He dared to ignore everything that said a poor Irish rogue shouldn't touch her, and battered down every wall she threw at him. But a wild thing by nature cannot be contained, not by convention or fences or even by love. Could she give him everything if he was just going to walk away?

Sullivan's Woman

Colin Sullivan had a vision—the painting of his career, with Cassidy St. John as his model. She would be a challenge to paint, with her passion for life and a beauty that captivated him. But as she stood in front of him every day, Colin began to realize that the real challenge wouldn't be to capture her image…but her heart.

• Sales Rank: #976342 in Books
• Brand: Silhouette
• Published on: 2011-08-30
• Released on: 2011-08-30
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x 1.18" w x 4.21" l,
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 448 pages

Features

• Great product!

Review
"Characters that touch the heart, stories that intrigue, romance that sizzles, Nora Roberts has mastered it all!" -Rendezvous

"The publishing world might be hard-pressed to find an author with a more diverse style or fertile imagination than Roberts." -Publishers Weekly

"Nora Roberts is among the best." -Washington Post Book World

"With clear-eyed, concise vision and a sure pen, Roberts nails her characters and settings with awesome precision, drawing readers into a vividly rendered world of family-centered warmth and unquestionable magic." -Library Journal

"Roberts has a warm feel for her characters and an eye for the evocative detail." -Chicago Tribune

"Romance will never die as long as the megaselling Roberts keeps writing it." -Kirkus Reviews

"A superb author...Ms. Roberts is an enormously gifted writer whose incredible range and intensity guarantee the very best of reading." -Rave Reviews

"Roberts' bestselling novels are some of the best in the romance genre. They are thoughtfully plotted, well-written stories featuring fascinating characters." -USA TODAY

About the Author

Nora Roberts is a bestselling author of more than 209 romance novels. She was the first author to be inducted into the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame. As of 2011, her novels had spent a combined 861 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller List, including 176 weeks in the number-one spot. Over 280 million copies of her books are in print, including 12 million copies sold in 2005 alone.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


As far as Brian Donnelly was concerned, a vindictive woman had invented the tie to choke the life out of man so that he would then be so weak she could just grab the tail of it and lead him wherever she wanted him to go. Wearing one made him feel stifled and edgy, and just a little awkward.

But strangling ties, polished shoes and a dignified attitude were required in fancy country clubs with their slick floors and crystal chandeliers and vases crowded with flowers that looked as if they'd been planted on Venus.

He'd have preferred to be in the stables, or on the track or in a good smoky pub where you could light up a cigar and speak your mind. That's where a man met a man for business, to Brian's thinking.

But Travis Grant was paying his freight, and a hefty price it was to bring him all the way from Kildare to America.

Training racehorses meant understanding them, working with them, all but living with them. People were necessary, of course, in a kind of sideways fashion. But country clubs were for owners, and those who played at being racetrackers as a hobby—or for the prestige and profit.

A glance around the room told Brian that most here in their glittery gowns and black ties had never spent any quality time shoveling manure.

Still, if Grant wanted to see if he could handle himself in posh surroundings, blend in with the gentry, he'd damn well do it. The job wasn't his yet. And Brian wanted it.

Travis Grant's Royal Meadows was one of the top thoroughbred farms in the country. Over the last decade, it had moved steadily toward becoming one of the best in the world. Brian had seen the American's horses run in Kildare at Curragh. Each one had been a beauty. The latest he'd seen only weeks before, when the colt Brian had trained had edged out the Maryland bred by half a neck.

But half a neck was more than enough to win the purse, and his own share of it as trainer. More, it seemed, it had been enough to bring Brian Donnelly to the eye and the consideration of the great Mr. Grant.

So here he was, at himself's invitation, Brian thought, in America at some posh gala in a fancy club where the women all smelled rich and the men looked it.

The music he found dull. It didn't stir him. But at least he had a beer and a fine view of the goings-on. The food was plentiful and as polished and elegant as the people who nibbled on it. Those who danced did so with more dignity than enthusiasm, which he thought was a shame, but who could blame them when the band had as much life as a soggy sack of chips?

Still it was an experience watching the jewels glint and crystal wink. The head man in Kildare hadn't been the sort to invite his employees to parties.

Old Mahan had been fair enough, Brian mused. And God knew the man loved his horses—as long as they ended by prancing in the winner's circle. But Brian hadn't thought twice about flipping the job away at the chance for this one.

And, well, if he didn't get it, he'd get another. He had a mind to stay in America for a while. If Royal Meadows wasn't his ticket, he'd find another one.

Moving around pleased him, and by doing so, by knowing just when to pack his bag and take a new road, he'd hooked himself up with some of the best horse farms in Ireland.

There was no reason he could see why he couldn't do the same in America. More of the same, he thought. It was a big and wide country.

He sipped his beer, then lifted an eyebrow when Travis Grant came in. Brian recognized him easily, and his wife as well—the Irish woman, he imagined, was part of his edge in landing this position.

The man, Grant, was tall, powerfully built with hair a thick mixture of silver and black. He had a strong face, tanned and weathered by the outdoors. Beside him, his wife looked like a pixie with her small, slim build. Her hair was a sweep of chestnut, as glossy as the coat of a prize thoroughbred.

They were holding hands.

It was a surprising link. His parents had made four children between them, and worked together as a fine and comfortable team. But they'd never been much for public displays of affection, even as mild a one as handholding.

A young man came in behind them. He had the look of his father—and Brian recognized him from the track in Kildare. Brendon Grant, heir apparent. And he looked comfortable with it—as well as the sleek blonde on his arm.

There were five children, he knew—had made it his business to know. A daughter, another son and twins, one of each sort. He didn't expect those who had grown up with privilege to bother themselves overly about the day-to-day running of the farm. He didn't expect that they'd get in his way.

Then she rushed in, laughing.

Something jumped in his belly, in his chest. And for an instant he saw nothing and no one else. Her build was delicate, her face vibrant. Even from a distance he could see her eyes were as blue as the lakes of his homeland. Her hair was flame, a sizzling red that looked hot to the touch and fell, wave after wave, over her bare shoulders.

His heart hammered, three hard and violent strokes, then seemed simply to stop.

She wore something floaty and blue, paler, shades paler than her eyes. What must have been diamonds fired at her ears.

He'd never in his life seen anything so beautiful, so perfect. So unattainable.

Because his throat had gone burning dry, he lifted his beer and was disgusted to realize his hand wasn't quite steady.

Not for you, Donnelly, he reminded himself. Not for you to even dream of. That would be the master's oldest daughter. And the princess of the house.

Even as he thought it, a man with a well-cut suit and pampered tan went to her. The way she offered her hand to him was just cool enough, just aloof enough to have Brian sneering—which was a great deal more comfortable than goggling.

Ah yes, indeed, she was royalty. And knew it.

The other family came in—that would be the twins, Brian thought, Sarah and Patrick. And a pretty pair they were, both tall and slim with roasted chestnut hair. The girl, Sarah—Brian knew she was just eighteen—was laughing, gesturing widely.

The whole family turned toward her, effectively— perhaps purposely—cutting out the man who'd come to pay homage to the princess. But he was a persistent sort, and reaching her, laid his hand on her shoulder. She glanced over, smiled, nodded.

Off to do her bidding, Brian mused as the man slipped away. A woman like that would be accustomed to flicking a man off, Brian imagined, or reining him in. And making him as grateful as the family hound for the most casual of pats.

Because the conclusion steadied him, Brian took another sip of his beer, set his glass aside. Now, he decided, was as good a time as any to approach the grand and glorious Grants.

"Then she whacked him across the back of his knees with her cane," Sarah continued. "And he fell face first into the verbena."

"If she was my grandmother," Patrick put in, "I'd move to Australia."

"Sure Will Cunningham usually deserves a whack. More than once I've been tempted to give him one myself." Adelia Grant glanced over, her laughing eyes meeting Brian's. "Well then, you've made it, haven't you?"

To Brian's surprise, she held out both hands to him, clasped his warmly and drew him into the family center. "It appears I have. It's a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Grant."

"I hope your trip over was pleasant."

"Uneventful, which is just as good." As small talk wasn't one of his strengths, he turned to Travis, nodded. "Mr. Grant."

"Brian. I hoped you'd make it tonight. You've met Brendon."

"I did, yes. Did you lay any down on the colt I told you of?"

"On the nose. And since it was at five-to-one, I owe you a drink, at least. What can I get you?"

"I'll have a beer, thanks."

"What part of Ireland are you from?" This was from Sarah. She had her mother's eyes, Brian thought. Warm green, and curious.

"I'm from Kerry. You'd be Sarah, wouldn't you?"

"That's right." She beamed at him. "This is my brother Patrick, and my sister Keeley. Our Brady's already on campus, so we're one short tonight."

"Nice meeting you, Patrick." Deliberately he inclined his head in what was nearly a bow as he turned to Keeley. "Miss Grant."

She lifted one slim eyebrow, the gesture as deliberate as his own. "Mr. Donnelly. Oh, thank you, Chad." She accepted the glass of champagne, touched a hand briefly to the arm of the man who'd brought it to her. "Chad Stuart, Brian Donnelly, from Kerry. That's in Ireland," she added with an irony dry as dust.

"Oh. Are you one of Mrs. Grant's relatives?"

"I don't have that privilege, no. There are a few of us scattered through the country who are not, in fact, related."

Patrick snorted out a laugh and earned a warning look from his mother. "Well now, we're cluttering up the place as usual. We'll move this herd along to our table. I hope you'll join us, Brian."

"How about a dance, Keeley?" Chad asked, standing at her elbow in a proprietary manner.

"I'd love to," she said absently and stepped forward.

"A little later."

"Have a care." Brian put a hand lightly on Keeley's elbow as they walked away. "Or you'll slip on the pieces of the heart you just broke."

She slid a glance over and up. "I'm very surefooted," she told him, then made a point of taking a seat between her two brothers.

Because he'd caught the scent of her—subtle sex, with an overlay of class—he made a point of sitting directly across from her. He sent her one quick grin, then settled in to be entertained by Sarah, who was already chattering to him about horses.

She didn't like the look of him, Keeley thought as she sipped her champagne. He was just a little too much of everything. His eyes were green, a sharper tone than her mother's. She imagined he could use them to slice his opponent in two with one glance. And she had a feeling he'd enjoy it. His hair was brown, but anything but a quiet shade, with all those gilded streaks rioting through it, and he wore it too long, so that it waved past his collar and around a face of planes and angles.

A sharp face, like his eyes, one with a faint shadow of a cleft in the chin and a well-defined mouth that struck her as being just a little too sensuous.

She thought he was built like a cowboy—long-legged and rangy, and looking entirely too rough-and-ready for his suit and tie.

She didn't care for the way he stared at her, either. Even when he wasn't looking at her it felt as if he were staring. And as if he'd read her thoughts, he shifted his eyes to hers again. His smile was slow, unmistakably insolent, and made her want to bare her teeth in a snarl.

Rather than give him the satisfaction, Keeley rose and walked unhurriedly to the ladies' lounge.

She hadn't gotten all the way through the door when Sarah bulleted in behind her. "God! Isn't he gorgeous?"

"Who?"

"Come on, Keel." Rolling her eyes, Sarah plopped down on one of the padded stools at the vanity counter and prepared to enjoy a chat. "Brian. I mean he is so hot. Did you see his eyes? Amazing. And that mouth— makes you just want to lap at it or something. Plus, he's got a terrific butt. I know because I made sure I walked behind him to check it out."

With a laugh, Keeley sat down beside her. "First, you're so predictable. Second, if Dad hears you talk that way, he'll shove the man on the first plane back to Ireland. And third, I didn't notice his butt, or anything else about him, particularly."

"Liar." Sarah propped her elbow on the counter as her sister took out a lipstick. "I saw you give him the Keeley Grant once-over."

Amused, Keeley passed the lipstick to Sarah. "Then let's say I didn't much like what I saw. The rough-edged and proud of it type just doesn't do it for me."

"It sure works for me. If I wasn't leaving for college next week, I'd—"

"But you are," Keeley interrupted, and part of her was torn at the upcoming separation. "Besides that, he's much too old for you."

"It never hurts to flirt."

"And you've made a career of it."

"That's just to balance your ice princess routine. 'Oh hello, Chad.'" Sarah put a distant look in her eye and gracefully lifted a hand.

Most helpful customer reviews

8 of 9 people found the following review helpful.
Can't Complain.
By Danix15
These books were great, light, romantic page-turners that really lifted my spirits.

IRISH REBEL // this is the sequel to Nora Roberts' first best-selling novel, IRISH THOROUGHBRED. This follows the Grant's eldest daughter & how newcomber Brian tries to woo her. Will he succeed? I really liked how this book had a lot of similarities with its mother book, IRISH THOROUGHBRED. I say read both.

SULLIVAN'S WOMAN // I really loved the whole concept of this story. The idea of a mysterious, handsome guy wanting to paint your portrait? Sounds great! I enjoyed this one a little more than the first, I think.

All in all, these were both great stories. I read this before I read IRISH HEARTS, which contains IRISH THOROUGHBRED & its sequel IRISH ROSE. Maybe you should try reading IRISH HEARTS first, but it doesn't really matter. Pick up your copies today!!!

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
These Two are Irish Jewels!!!
By D. Moore
This is actually two books in one! The first, Irish Rebel invites us into the world of Brian Donnelly, Irishman, horse trainer of some repute, ready to go to work as head trainer in the stables of Royal Meadows. The much loved dynasty of Travis Grant, his Irish wife and family. Brian is from "common stock" as he describes himself and has a bit of a chip on his shoulder. He is surprised to discover that Paddy Cunnane, head trainer for many years, quite well known in the racing world, has recommended him for the job.
Travis Grant's daughter Keeley also considers herself an outsider of sorts, known as an "Ice Princess", she lets no man into her heart. It's a ragged road that brings these two together, with lots of sparks and flame!
The second book is Sullivan's Woman. Cassidy St. John is half English, half Irish, but never really knew her Irish family as her mother died at her birth. There is a deep longing in her to connect with those Irish roots. She is a writer, but like many writers, she still needs to support herself so she is working as a salesperson in a fancy dress shop. Oh wait...was working in a fancy dress shop! Her honest mouth has cost her another job! wandering in the fog of her beloved San Francisco, she is grabbed by what she thinks is a mugger. It is not until the next day when she arrives to pose for him that she realizes he is Colin Sullivan, a world famous Irish artist! She really wants the money involved, so she decides to pose for him and there things start to get complicated.
Both stories are interesting and easy to read. The kind of books you start reading and find yourself closing the book at the end and...it's two am! Well worth the time.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Irish Dreams will fill your dreams
By Grandma C.
In IRISH REBEL we continue the story of Travis and Adelia and their children. This time we follow their daughter Keeley and the new trainer Brian Donnelly. Brian thinks he is not good enough for the Royal Meadows Princess and tries to ignore his feelings for Keeley. Keeley on the other hand finds Brian irritating despite his hot looks. But after a late night walk in the garden and a moonlight kiss, Keeley just might be put under an Irish spell. IRISH REBEL has a story line that will keep you turning the pages long into the night.

In SULLIVAN'S WOMAN we are introduced to Cassidy who is trying to get her novel published as it seems to be passing from one publishers table to another. Her world is turned upside down when she meets Colin on a foggy pier in Fisherman's Wharf. He plainly states he wants to paint her, which Cassidy is a little hesitant to say yes. But one look from Colin's soul-piercing eyes and Cassidy knows she is in trouble.

See all 32 customer reviews...

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