Skip to main content

Lady Wynwood #7 early release Kickstarter

I worked on my first Kickstarter and it got approved! It’s for the Special Edition Hardcover of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 1: Archer and the release of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 7: Spinster. I contacted my graphic designer about the Special Edition Hardcover of vol. 1: Archer—it’s going to be SO beautiful! The Kickstarter focuses on the Special Edition Hardcover, but it’ll also include vol. 7: Spinster so that it’ll sort of be like a launch day for vol. 7, too. A third special thing that’ll be in the Kickstarter is Special Edition Paperbacks of all the books in the series. They won’t be available in stores, just in the Kickstarter (and later, from my website, and also in my Patreon book box tiers if I decide to do them). The Kickstarter is not live yet, but you can follow it to be alerted when it has launched. (You may need to create a free Kickstarter account.) Follow Camy’s Kickstarter

Excerpt - Risky Reunion by Lenora Worth

Risky Reunion
by
Lenora Worth


As a novice FBI agent, Jackson McGraw was deeply touched by the young single mother—a murder witness—in his protective custody. When her baby girl was almost killed, Eloise fled—selflessly leaving her child in his care with a note to find her a good Christian home. Now, twenty years later, the mob is obsessed with retaliation against the woman whose testimony imprisoned their late don. Jackson is determined to track Eloise down to protect her—and reclaim two decades' worth of love.

Excerpt of chapter one:

MEMO: Top Secret/Top Priority

TO: FBI Organized Crime Task Force; U.S. Marshal's Office

FROM: Jackson McGraw, Special Agent in Charge, Chicago Field Office

RE: Operation Black Veil

Federal Bureau of Investigation Date: June 2, 2010

Chicago Mafia kingpin Salvatore Martino is dead. Per informant—Vincent Martino, now the head of the Martino crime family, will make good on a final tribute to his father by executing Eloise Hill, the woman who testified against Salvatore twenty-two years ago.

Recent sightings place Vincent Martino in Montana—READ—he intends to oversee this hit himself. Through joint investigation with the U.S. Marshal's office, we've learned that even though Eloise Hill left the Witness Protection Program, she is still living in Montana under an assumed name. Current location and name—on a "need to know" basis. Agents currently in place. Witness under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Subject will be immediately informed of these developments and will remain under protection until suspect is apprehended.

Please contact SAC Jackson McGraw on any new leads or changes regarding the above information or any new developments in the Martino case.

Special Agent Jackson McGraw did a visual sweep of the trees on the other side of the little stream then watched as a butterfly fluttered around a cluster of vivid pink bitterroot blooming just outside the window of the vacant apartment he'd been holed up in since 3:00 a.m.

The brown, yellow-tipped butterfly was beautiful, a quiet and graceful contrast to the tension coiled like a snake inside Jackson's gut. Something wasn't right.

Something hadn't been right for the past six months, but now he instinctively knew that something was about to go all wrong, completely wrong, if he didn't move quickly. This entire investigation had boiled down to one thing—he had to keep Eloise Hill alive.

But in order to do that, he had to find the leak that seemed to stem from the U.S. Marshal's office, a leak that had jeopardized the entire Witness Protection Program and caused a number of people to be killed. And he had to find Vincent Martino and stop him, one way or another.

Jackson thought back on his last conversation with his informant—the Veiled Lady—back in Chicago two weeks ago. They'd met on a sunny day near a heavily wooded park by the lake. But even though the day had verged on being warm, the woman had worn the same outfit she always wore—a wide-brimmed black hat with a heavy veil covering her face and a black wool coat, gloves and dark shades. And there under the cover of trees surrounding the secluded park, she'd told Jackson the very thing he didn't want to hear.

The woman spoke in a whispery, low voice, her words slow and carefully formal. "Salvatore is dead. He died late last night in his home with several of his top capos there by his side. Vincent was there, too, but as soon as his father is buried, he will be leaving for Montana. He is going to find this woman—Eloise Hill—and finish the job himself. This will be his final tribute to his father. As if Salvatore Martino would care one way or another. The man had no heart." She'd paused, taking a deep breath that almost sounded like a sob. "And neither does his son."

Those chilling words spoken two weeks ago contrasted sharply with the beautiful June morning, Jackson thought now as he looked out the window. His gaze didn't stay on the butterfly. He was watching the other apartment just across the quaint little bridge between the chalet-style brown-and-beige buildings. And he was waiting for the woman who lived there to turn on a light, indicating she was up for the day.

Finally, he'd get to see her and make sure she was all right with his own eyes.

This had been a long journey, trying to find Eloise Hill before Vincent Martino did. She called herself Ellie Smith now, but she would always be Eloise—his Ellie—to Jackson. He'd often called her Ellie many years ago. And apparently, she would always be a threat to the powerful Martino crime family, since Vincent Martino was determined to see her dead. Jackson had the body count to prove it, and he was determined to end Vincent's obsession with revenge. He had to warn Eloise. He had to protect her.

And he also had to tell her that her daughter, Kristin Perry, knew about Eloise and wanted to see her.

The static in his earpiece broke the taut summer silence of the early morning. "Big Mac, come in."

Frowning at the nickname his team member Roark Canfield used, Jackson answered. "Talk to me."

"Subject is late for work, sir."

"So I noticed. It's not her day off, is it?"

"Negative. She always leaves at sunrise. She walks a short distance to work just after sunup, no matter the exact time, and she has a big dog with her, sir. Really big German shepherd—dangerous animal."

"I get it about the dog, Roark," Jackson said. "GQ, what's the status at your location?"

"She's not here, sir," Marcus Powell answered from his spot at the restaurant around the corner. "Staff arrived right on time and everyone's busy preparing for the day." A pause, then, "But the one named Verdie has tried calling her several times. No answer. Verdie seems a bit worried from the conversation going back and forth behind the counter."

Jackson rubbed a hand down his neck, the tension going from coiled to twisted. "We're sure of this schedule? Thea, what's your take?"

A feminine voice purred across the line. "Her restaurant is a popular spot, and subject is never late for work. Or at least she hasn't been in the time we've been watching her."

"Affirmative," GQ added. "Staff of three comes in around five every morning to prepare for breakfast rush, but proprietor and two part-timers come in later, just in time for the crowd. Subject stays after lunch to prepare next day's menu from what we've seen so far. She should be on her way by now, sir." Silence, then GQ said, "Uh, Jackson, we have another problem, too. One of the coworkers is also late. Young, blonde, pretty. Her name tag says Meredith. She's usually at the door before anyone else."

Jackson looked at his watch. It was six-fifteen on a Tuesday morning. The sun had been up a good twenty minutes and was now brightening the morning sky with each ticking second. And his gut was burning as hot as those incoming rays. Had the bad gone to worse already?

"I'm on it," he said, his mind ticking off all the logical explanations while his stomach sizzled with the worst-case scenario. "Cover me."

"You got it," Roark said.

Jackson checked his holster, secured his weapon, did a quick surveillance of the nearby city park and the walking trail between buildings, then opened the front door a crack. With Roark stationed in the park and Thea in a car down the way, he didn't need to worry about being secure. But he sure wasn't prepared to see Eloise just yet.

He hadn't planned on announcing himself this abruptly, but Eloise might already be in trouble.

Glancing around, he stalked along the perimeter of the trees, his heart pounding a heavy beat that matched the thud of his hiking boots against gravel. He hit the footbridge over the stream with a run, the echo of his steps chasing him with an eerie cadence across the arched structure.

He was about to come face-to-face with the woman he'd loved for over twenty years. And he prayed he'd find her alive.

She couldn't stop shaking. First the roses and now this. Eloise stared at the clock on the wall of her kitchen, a forgotten cup of coffee steaming in her hand. She had to steady herself to keep from spilling the coffee. Her German shepherd, Duff, rubbed his nose against her robe, trying to get her attention. Duff could sense her trauma and her fear.

Touching a hand to the faithful dog, Eloise gently pushed him away then glanced at the trash can where she'd tossed the white roses. White with pink-edged petals.

Duff sniffed and whined, giving her some measure of comfort. She should have taken him with her last night when she'd deliberately gone out the door to help her friend, but she'd been afraid Duff's barks would bring too much attention to the situation. She'd promised Meredith no cops, but Eloise wished she hadn't kept that promise. She'd arrived only to find her friend dead.

This can't be happening again, she thought, her stomach roiling as a wave of nausea assaulted her. Memories from two decades ago, brutal and raw, hit her with the force of a fist in her solar plexus. She could still see the blood everywhere, could still see Danny's face as he'd begged for his life there in the seedy warehouse in South Chicago. Could still see the quick burst of smoke from the guns and hear the staccato spew of the silencers—once, twice—as Danny and another man were killed in cold blood while she watched from the shadows.

Killed in cold blood. Twenty-two years of trying to forget and it all still seemed as if it had happened last night. Twenty-two years of hiding, of staying invisible, of living like a shadow, always looking over her shoulder. And always wondering what had happened to the child she'd been forced to leave behind. She'd found solace in her faith, in her church and in her work.

She'd almost found a sense of peace.

And now, she'd witnessed another murder.

Remembering the elaborate spray of white roses at Danny's funeral, Eloise rubbed a finger over the scar near her lips. Back then, the Martino family had sent the roses. Salvatore Martino loved roses; he grew them in the massive garden inside the Martino compound.

And he sometimes sent them to the funerals of his victims.

She'd received a box of her own yesterday just before closing at the café. A dozen long-stemmed, lush roses— a creamy white with just the blush of pink around the tips of the petals.

And no card.

She'd been so paranoid she'd rushed out of the café, hurrying down the street with Duff right on her heels and the box of roses still crushed in her arms.

Who sent them? Who knew she was here?

Putting the horrible questions out of her mind, Eloise sank down in a chair, her thoughts reeling with what she'd seen and heard last night after she'd arrived at Meredith's. Screams, a scuffle, then a distinctive thump and footsteps running, running. A man's voice crying out, "No, no." Then Meredith. Dead. Sweet, innocent Meredith. Her friend and her employee. Dead. Lying in a deserted parking lot, blood pooling underneath her head, her eyes open and vacant as she stared up into the night sky.

It seemed as if Meredith had been staring right up at Eloise, asking her why she hadn't come sooner.

"Come up the back stairs," Meredith had shouted over the phone. "He's in the kitchen. I think he knows, Ellie. He's going to kill me. Hurry! You have to get me out of here."

"I'll be there and I'll call 911."

"No!" Meredith was adamant. "No cops. They won't help me. They won't—they'll side with him. Just hurry!"

"Why didn't I get there in time, Lord?" Eloise whispered in a prayer for forgiveness. She shivered in spite of the summer morning and Duff's efforts to console her. She'd tried to help her friend and she'd failed.

Meredith called her, crying and frantic, in the middle of the night. Eloise rushed into the dark night, her own fears somehow pushed aside in order to get Meredith away from her abusive husband. But she'd arrived too late.

"Why didn't I get there sooner? Why didn't I call 911 to help you?" She reached for Duff, rubbing her hand over his soft brown fur. "Why didn't I take you with me, boy?"

But Eloise knew the answer to all of those questions. The roses. She'd been so afraid to leave her house after she'd received the roses. She didn't even take her car. She'd walked the few blocks to Meredith's house. And now, she had to stay hidden, had to stay out of the limelight. She couldn't risk the glare of cameras and reporters and questions from the local authorities. Because she couldn't trust anyone to help her, either. Not even the police.

If she'd been able to step forward sooner, to alert the authorities that Meredith's husband was dangerous, their plan might have worked. Meredith would have gone to a safe place. But Meredith didn't want to go to the local authorities, Eloise reminded herself now. Meredith knew, just as Eloise did, that sometimes the police were actually part of the problem. So they agreed to keep quiet and Eloise finally talked Meredith into escaping. They formed a solid plan, talked about it quietly and secretly for weeks. Everything was in place. And Meredith was finally ready to leave.

But apparently, Meredith's husband had figured things out.

And for that reason, her friend was now dead.

And she was paralyzed with a fear she'd been running from for over twenty years. Paralyzed because Meredith's husband had still been there at Meredith's house last night when she arrived. He stood over the still body, crying quietly as he stared down at his dead wife. A killer crying in regret over the woman he'd murdered.

And that killer might have seen Eloise.

It was just a glimpse in the dark, she reminded herself. He couldn't have caught a good look at her. And since she'd disguised herself with a big hat and a scarf, she prayed he couldn't identify her. But he'd heard her intake of breath, heard the shocked gasp as she stood on the landing above, her silhouette hidden in the shadows.

But he hadn't come after her. Yet.

No one had come after her. Yet.

But the roses…the roses meant that Randall Parker might not be the only person who wanted her dead and gone.

Had the Mob found her after all these years?

"I have to get to work," she said, forcing herself out of the chair, her knuckles white from clutching her now-cold coffee. "I have to pretend everything is all right."

Buy from Barnes and Noble
Buy from Christianbook.com
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Books a Million

Click here to get 2 Free Steeple Hill Love Inspired Suspense Books from Harlequin today.


Save 20% off all Love Inspired Suspense Books

Comments

Popular Posts

Tabi socks, part deux

Captain's Log, Stardate 07.25.2008 (If you're on Ravelry, friend me! I'm camytang.) I made tabi socks again! (At the bottom of the pattern is the calculation for the toe split if you're not using the same weight yarn that I did for this pattern (fingering). I also give an example from when I used worsted weight yarn with this pattern.) I used Opal yarn, Petticoat colorway. It’s a finer yarn than my last pair of tabi socks, so I altered the pattern a bit. Okay, so here’s my first foray into giving a knitting pattern. Camy’s top-down Tabi Socks I’m assuming you already know the basics of knitting socks. If you’re a beginner, here are some great tutorials: Socks 101 How to Knit Socks The Sock Knitter’s Companion A video of turning the heel Sock Knitting Tips Yarn: I have used both fingering weight and worsted weight yarn with this pattern. You just change the number of cast on stitches according to your gauge and the circumference of your ankle. Th

No Cold Bums toilet seat cover

Captain's Log, Stardate 08.22.2008 I actually wrote out my pattern! I was getting a lot of hits on my infamous toilet seat cover , and I wanted to make a new one with “improvements,” so I paid attention and wrote things down as I made the new one. This was originally based off the Potty Mouth toilet cover , but I altered it to fit over the seat instead of the lid. Yarn: any worsted weight yarn, about 120 yards (this is a really tight number, I used exactly 118 yards. My suggestion is to make sure you have about 130 yards.) I suggest using acrylic yarn because you’re going to be washing this often. Needle: I used US 8, but you can use whatever needle size is recommended by the yarn you’re using. Gauge: Not that important. Mine was 4 sts/1 inch in garter stitch. 6 buttons (I used some leftover shell buttons I had in my stash) tapestry needle Crochet hook (optional) Cover: Using a provisional cast on, cast on 12 stitches. Work in garter st until liner measures

Toilet seat cover

Captain’s Log, Supplemental Update August 2008: I wrote up the pattern for this with "improvements"! Here's the link to my No Cold Bums toilet seat cover ! Okay, remember a few days ago I was complaining about the cold toilet seat in my bathroom? Well, I decided to knit a seat cover. Not a lid cover, but a seat cover. I went online and couldn’t find anything for the seat, just one pattern for the lid by Feminitz.com . However, I took her pattern for the inside edge of the lid cover and modified it to make a seat cover. Here it is! It’s really ugly stitch-wise because originally I made it too small and had to extend it a couple inches on each side. I figured I’d be the one staring at it, so who cared if the extension wasn’t perfectly invisible? I used acrylic yarn since, well, that’s what I had, and also because it’s easy to wash. I’ll probably have to wash this cover every week or so, but it’s easy to take off—I made ties which you can see near the back of the seat. And

Camille's Writing Progress

Join my newsletter to get regular updates in your inbox!

Camy’s Worsted Cotton Comfortable Skirt with Lace Edging knitting pattern

I made my original Comfortable Cotton Skirt with a simple eyelet round at the bottom, but this one has a simple antique garter stitch lace edging, “Edging to Trim the Body and Sleeves” on page 43 of the book New Guide to Knitting and Crochet , published in 1847. You can download a free ebook copy of the book here . The edging was originally to trim a Baby’s Knit Body, but I have no idea what that is. :P If you do, please do leave a comment. I also changed the hip increases to 4 distinct darts rather than 8 sections, but if you prefer the hip increases from my original Comfortable Cotton skirt, you can substitute that. Like the original Comfortable skirt, this one is cotton for summer, and loose for casual wear. It has a little positive ease and is only slightly flared. The waist is drawstring rather than elastic so that I can loosen it on my fat days or after pigging out at my favorite restaurant. This pattern/recipe is for my size, but there are instructions at the bottom for

One-Skein Pyrenees Scarf knitting pattern

I got into using antique patterns when I was making the scarf my hero wears in my Regency romance, The Spinster’s Christmas . I wanted to do another pattern which I think was in use in the Regency period, the Pyrenees Knit Scarf on pages 36-38 of The Lady's Assistant for Executing Useful and Fancy Designs in Knitting, Netting, and Crochet Work, volume 1, by Jane Gaugain, published in 1840. She is thought to be the first person to use knitting abbreviations, at least in a published book, although they are not the same abbreviations used today (our modern abbreviations were standardized by Weldon’s Practical Needlework in 1906). Since the book is out of copyright, you can download a free PDF copy of the book at Archive.org. I found this to be a fascinating look at knitting around the time of Jane Austen’s later years. Although the book was published in 1840, many of the patterns were in use and passed down by word of mouth many years before that, so it’s possible these are

Keriah's Narrow Crescent Scarf

In my series Lady Wynwood’s Spies, my character Keriah is more emotional than her friend Phoebe, and so when writing about her in Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 6: Martyr , naturally I described her scarf as having more lively colors than the greens and blues that Phoebe favors. I didn’t really have a particular yarn colorway in mind when I wrote the scene, but when looking through my stash to knit her scarf, I found the Carnival colorway in Knit Picks Chroma Twist Fingering, and it was absolutely perfect for her. Chroma Twist Fingering is discontinued, but you could knit this in Chroma Fingering or any other color-transitional yarn. In the Regency era, a tri-color 3-ply yarn like Chroma Twist Fingering would probably not have been sold in shops, but it also may not have been completely unheard of. It is made by simply dying the wool rather than the finished yarn, and then the dyed wool would be split into 3 parts and each part spun into a single ply, before all three plies

The Robe by Wes King

Captain’s Log, Stardate 01.07.2006 I’ve been developing the spiritual theme for this current project for a while, and I think I’ve finally nailed it down. This song has inspired me in my own walk, but then it occurred to me that it communicates the emotional theme for my WIP very well, too. The Robe by Wes King Anyone whose heart is cold and lonely Anyone who can't believe Anyone whose hands are worn and empty Come as you are Anyone whose feet are tired of walking And even lost their will to run There is a place of rest for your aching soul Come as you are For the robe is of God That will clothe your nakedness And the robe is His grace It's all you need Come as you are Anyone who feels that they're unworthy Anyone whose just afraid Come sinner, come and receive His mercy Come as you are For the robe is of God That will clothe your nakedness And the robe is His grace It's all you need Come as you are From the album: The Robe c1993 Emily Boothe, Inc. (BMI)/Careers-BMG Mus

Lady Wynwood #7 early release Kickstarter

I worked on my first Kickstarter and it got approved! It’s for the Special Edition Hardcover of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 1: Archer and the release of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 7: Spinster. I contacted my graphic designer about the Special Edition Hardcover of vol. 1: Archer—it’s going to be SO beautiful! The Kickstarter focuses on the Special Edition Hardcover, but it’ll also include vol. 7: Spinster so that it’ll sort of be like a launch day for vol. 7, too. A third special thing that’ll be in the Kickstarter is Special Edition Paperbacks of all the books in the series. They won’t be available in stores, just in the Kickstarter (and later, from my website, and also in my Patreon book box tiers if I decide to do them). The Kickstarter is not live yet, but you can follow it to be alerted when it has launched. (You may need to create a free Kickstarter account.) Follow Camy’s Kickstarter

Grace Livingston Hill romances free on Google Books

I wanted to update my old post on Grace Livingston Hill romances because now there are tons more options for you to be able to read her books for free online! I’m a huge Grace Livingston Hill fan. Granted, not all her books resonate with me, but there are a few that I absolutely love, like The Enchanted Barn and Crimson Roses . And the best part is that she wrote over 100 books and I haven’t yet read them all! When I have time, I like to dive into a new GLH novel. I like the fact that most of them are romances, and I especially appreciate that they all have strong Christian themes. Occasionally the Christian content is a little heavy-handed for my taste, but it’s so interesting to see what the Christian faith was like in the early part of the 20th century. These books are often Cinderella-type stories or A Little Princess (Frances Hodgson Burnett) type stories, which I love. And the best part is that they’re all set in the early 1900s, so the time period is absolutely fasci