KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!
BY MARY LINGERFELT
Lucky Morgan is a cynical, world weary filmmaker who’s just been dumped by her fiancé. She takes a vacation to Maine to forget him, but soon gets tangled up with the gorgeous PR director of the local hospital. Greg is the best-looking man that Lucky’s ever seen, and he seems smitten with her. But is Greg really interested in her, or is he just using her to get free PR for the hospital? When Lucky’s ex arrives and asks her for a second chance, she has to decide which of these shady men to trust―and if she should risk her heart again for another chance at love.
BY MARY LINGERFELT
When I got close enough to hear Gerard’s speech, I was startled to learn that I was a part of it―at least by implication. The newest selectman of Bay Hill was making it clear that meddling outsiders were not welcome.
I got the old reporter’s rush as I slipped through the mob, because I was taking a risk. These people were in an ugly mood. I pulled my cap down over my eyes, lowered the camera, and was careful to skirt around the edge of the crowd. After the break-in attempt, I was taking no chances.
Gerard’s voice blasted out from the podium: “These outsiders have come here to twist the truth. They’re trying to block the best thing that’s ever happened to this town. They’re trying to kill the deal that’ll bring jobs back to Bay Hill!”
I moved behind the cover of some bushes until I found a spot that would give me a clear shot of Gerard. He was standing at the top of a platform that raised him five feet above the crowd. I put the camera to my eye and focused the lens on his face. The little red light flicked on.
“Use your own judgment!” he roared. “Which is better―that a small, rundown hospital should close, or that a whole town should disappear?”
Another thunderous roar. I turned the camera around to get a shot of the men nearby and wondered if they were―as Nia had claimed―hired muscle brought in to stir up trouble.
Gerard’s mouth was practically a ring of fire. “Well, I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not going to stand back and watch a stubborn few ruin this chance for the rest of us―for us, and for our children! I’m going to fight for Bay Hill!”
The roar that followed was like a jet flying low; coats, cans, and fists jumped into the air; and my head swam so that I almost blacked out. But it was a mercy I didn’t, because the drama was about to go to another level.
The word was shouted so close to my ear that it hit me like a fist to the jaw. Somebody grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around so hard that I staggered to my knees and almost dropped the camera.
I struggled up from the ground. A man stood there glaring at me. His breath was sour, his face was twisted, and his voice was thick with anger.
He pointed a bony finger in my face. “You take your camera and get out of here! Nobody asked you to come meddling in our business!”
I groped for something solid to lean on. The man hardly needed to knock me down―I was almost down without him.
“Look, I’m just here to cover both sides of this story as fairly as I can.”
The man’s mouth twisted contemptuously, and he leaned in close to hiss: “You’re a liar.”
His words were like a slap across my jaw, and I jerked myself upright. Sick or well, those were fighting words. In spite of my danger, it was all I could do to keep from swiping his mouth right off his face. But even if I controlled my hands, I couldn’t control my mouth.
“It’s the God’s truth, you drunken idiot! Out of my face, or I’ll give you the back of my hand!”
“You better be careful,” he breathed, moving toward me. “We don’t like outsiders. I’ll show you what I mean…”
He grabbed me by the shoulders, and I forgot to be hurt or scared. I sent my fist into his jaw with all my might. The impact made me scream in pain, and lights popped off in my head; but dimly I could see amazement wipe a zero across the man’s face. He let go of me and put a hand to his reddening cheek.
“You hit me!” he blurted incredulously.
“And I’ll do it again!”
What would’ve happened next I don’t know, because a brown blur crossed the man’s pointed chin and he spun face down on the ground. A hand clamped my wrist and I was dragged away as fast as I could stagger.
I was pulled to a stop behind the shelter of a small tent. A brown hand grasped my chin and lifted it until I looked up.
To my amazement, it was Eric.
“Wicked right hook,” he smiled.
“The temper helps,” I replied, but his face was fading away. I felt myself falling and then, just before everything winked out, I could have sworn that his arms closed around me.
I’m a night owl. I find I write best when the house is quiet and still, and I usually don’t get to bed before 2 a.m, I live on tea and chocolate. I am mother to one cat and dozens of very sociable characters, all of whom like to talk to me at inappropriate times. My goal for my stories is that they should be fun reads; but more than that, I hope they show my readers the beauty and satisfaction of a life lived in friendship with God.
Links to Mary’s website, blog, books, etc.