WIP Wednesday

WIP Wednesday

I always get a little giddy on release day.  There’s a feeling of excitement that comes with seeing a project make it to market that’s hard to match.  I love my readers.  I love to hear what people think of my stories and I absolutely love putting paperbacks into the hands of those eager to explore my work for the first time.

Faith 15, the second book in my Men of Faith series, released just yesterday and as excited as I was to see Cooper’s story to fruition and share it with all of you, hot on Cooper’s heels comes Charity 12, the story of Cooper’s best friend, Burke Miller.

Charity 12 blurb:

After years of playing gatekeeper for the people he cares for most and watching several of his best friends marry and start their families, Burke Miller suddenly feels like the old man at the party.  While he doesn’t have trouble getting a date, Burke’s never met anyone that would cause him to consider risking it all.

Abigail Foster didn’t mean to ruin her life.  She didn’t mean to watch her home burn to the ground as she faded into the blackness of that night, never to be heard from again, as the result of her addiction.  And she certainly didn’t expect to see steel blue eyes staring back at her through the darkened windows of a limousine as she scrounged for food on the side of the road.

When a successful attorney meets a homeless woman on the cold streets of Indianapolis, all becomes fair in games of chance and it’s anybody’s guess as to who’ll be left holding the winning hand.

Here’s a snippet of Burke and Abby’s story:

“I can’t believe I haven’t noticed before.  Darkness or not, you don’t just hide what I’m guessing is close to a hundred people when the sun comes up.”  Horrified by the images four feet from him, Burke continued to stare from the protection of the darkened window.   Boxes covered bodies leaving only feet, sometimes shoeless, exposed.  Grocery carts littered the sidewalk, some tied to their owners, some rolling slightly given the slant of the pavement.  Runaways.  A couple of small metal barrels housed fires although it was the middle of summer.   If he didn’t know better, Burke might have thought he’d been transported from his riverfront high rise on the northwest side of the city and dropped somewhere closer to East Los Angeles.  While ten years of working within the court system had taught him sometimes bad things happened to good people, the amount of poverty so close to his front door was staggering.  He was less than fifteen miles from home.

"Wow dude, way to harsh the mellow," Gage leveled toward Burke who sat riveted to the scene playing out just beyond the safety of the car.

"Way to what?"  Eric asked, seemingly amazed that one of their oldest friends, the kid they'd meet wearing zit cream and glasses freshman year, could so easily transform from a gyrating, kissing, one-man love machine to a hippie in less time than it took Eric to microwave popcorn.

"Stop the car!"  Burke shouted, shocking both Eric and Gage into silence.

"You aren't getting out here, man.  We'll start a fund.  I'll get some corporate sponsors for a new shelter.  Gage can help neighborhood kids do a canned food and clothing drive.  Anything you want, bro, but do not get out of this car."

Shoving his hand into the air, Burke tried to quiet his friends and shut out everyone around him but her.  Outside the car, which had stopped not because he’d shouted his demand but due to a traffic light instead, Burke saw the well-sculpted form of a woman huddled against one of the oldest building in the city.  Hampered by the window tinting, which cast a grey shadow on the objects in its view, Burke couldn't help but stare.  Everything about the stranger looked grungy and dusty except her face, which was graced by an angelic jaw line and deep-set, haunted eyes.  As corny as it sounded there was no other way to phrase it.  She was stunning.

"Why are we moving?"  Despair lacing his voice, Burke shouted and alarmed his friends again when he felt the car start to roll forward.  "Eric, the car stops or I jump."

"Alex, pull over to the curb and keep the doors locked," the ringleader of the group said to the man he hired twice a month to chauffeur them around town for guy's night.  "We'll only be a minute." 

"What in the world is going on, man?  Go home and get your own car and come back and play Mother Theresa if you want.  That’s fine with me.  I just want to get home,” Gage groaned at Burke.

Looking through the glass, Burke focused on the woman's face and studied her with such intensity he didn't even realize she was looking straight back at him.  Shaking his head against the possibility she'd seen him given the deep tint that separated them, Burke sent his eyes to meet hers again.