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.
