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!
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ASH RECKONING
Historical Thriller
BY STEPHANIE ZAYATZ
Blurb
It is 1896, and Nell Roberts has already survived the kind of tragedy that should have ended her.
Fleeing a farm burned by vengeful men and the ghosts of a life she refuses to speak about, she arrives in Denver with little but her pride and takes a position with the Society—an investigative agency run by the disciplined, quietly formidable Levi Whittier. He is a widower with iron composure and secrets of his own. She is sharp, guarded, and far more dangerous than she appears.
What begins as professional respect deepens into something neither of them expected—and neither of them is entirely prepared to survive.
But the past does not stay buried.
When violence strikes far too close to home, Nell is forced to confront the one truth she has spent a year outrunning: someone knows who she is. Someone has followed her. And this time, they are not aiming to miss.
As winter closes in over the Rockies, loyalty is tested, secrets fracture, and love becomes both shield and vulnerability. To protect the people she has come to call family, Nell may have to face the one man she left alive—and the reckoning he has been patiently preparing.
Some doors, once opened, do not close quietly.
ASH RECKONING
Historical Thriller
BY STEPHANIE ZAYATZ
Excerpt
For a week, Nell had been rising early and saddling up Lincoln in the chilly pre-dawn light, then riding out of town following the South Platte along its banks as it curved northeast away from civilization. They would meander at a leisurely pace as the town fell away behind them and they were greeted with open prairie that was interrupted only by occasional stands of cottonwood that bunched around the river’s gentle curves. By the time the sun was just coming up she was usually far enough out to prairie that she could look back to the west and watch the sun as it first touched the foothills, then rose against the mountains behind, illuminating the fresh snow above treeline in spectacular rays first of dusky purple, then pink, and finally clear bright daylight.
That morning it had dawned chilly enough that she had pulled on Chase’s sheepskin coat from her meager pile of belongings that she had brought with her from the mountain. It was the only possession of his that she still had and could not bear to part with it, especially because it was still the warmest item of clothing she had ever worn in her life. When she wore it she felt as though somehow his arms were still around her.
The coat used to have the faintest smell of him to it, something she could not quite name but knew as him. Now she only caught the aroma of woodsmoke. For a time, almost everything she owned had smelled of the fire, even for months afterward. Everything except that coat. That still smelled comfortingly of Chase, and she had huddled in it practically day and night while she shivered through that winter alone at the homestead, thinking of him and somehow getting through the long, empty nights. That morning as she pulled the coat out of the wardrobe, though, she got the strangest sensation that he had never even worn it before.
That was what made up her mind more than anything.
Now as the sun rose at her back and lit up the distant mountains she pulled the collar of the coat high over her face, almost shrinking down inside it as she pulled Lincoln to a stop. A faint curl of steam rose lazily from the river into the chill air. High above the mountains, the clouds were coming in thick and puffy and seemed to be cascading down over the summits like waves, obscuring the breathtaking peaks behind. The foothills and the Chautauqua Slabs below were lit up in a brilliant shade of orange.
She pulled a leg over Lincoln and dismounted. Her pulse had begun to hammer in her throat. She turned to the mare and took her by the bridle, squared up her face so she could look at her faithful friend in the eyes. Lincoln stared back with her deep brown eyes and Nell’s courage almost failed. She leaned to the side and silently undid the buckle on the throatlatch, then reached up and lifted the crownpiece over Lincoln’s ears. The mare gently let the bit drop from her mouth into Nell’s hands and Nell placed her palm flat on her nose, stroking it.
Lincoln’s ears went back and she shook her great head, taking a step away from Nell as though eyeing her in confusion.
“Shh,” Nell whispered, dropping the bridle to the ground and reaching out to Lincoln’s face again. She put both hands on Lincoln’s cheeks to hold her steady so she could look up into her eyes again. “It’ll be all right.”
Lincoln stamped a hoof and grumbled. Leave it to Lincoln, Nell thought, to make this difficult. Even as she tried to step closer to comfort her, the mare danced back, prancing out of Nell’s grasp. Lincoln snorted and tossed her head, making it clear to Nell that she not only realized what was going on, but she wanted no part of it.
“Goddamnit, Lincoln,” Nell said, suddenly finding her eyes flooded with tears. “Come here.”
She didn’t, but she did cease her retreat and raised her head to look at something behind Nell, her body going rigid suddenly. Nell spun to look in the other direction, only to find her vision blurred by stubborn tears and the sun blinding her. She blinked several times to clear them.
A rider was approaching from the direction of the river. The sun was directly in Nell’s face now and she could only make out the silhouette of a man in a wide-brimmed hat. Fear stirred in her chest; she was not near the trail and anyone who might have been passing in that direction would have to go out of their way to approach her. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her coat and gripped the stock of her pistol, but she did not withdraw it.
“Stop,” she said forcefully.
To his credit, the rider pulled his horse up short and stopped. He removed his hat and said, “Nell?”
Her hand relaxed on the pistol and she put her other up to shade her eyes.
“Levi?”
He smiled at her. “Morning.”
Nell sighed, her adrenaline almost tipping into nausea. “Christ Almighty, I almost drew on you.”
Levi nudged his horse closer, closing the distance and turning so that she could look at him without the sun being directly in her face. “I am glad you didn’t. I suppose I deserved that.”
“Startled me, is all.”
“So I see.” He replaced his hat and gave her a good look. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, keenly aware of the fact that she probably looked like she’d been crying. Levi would have to be a fool to suspect anything else, and of yet she did not take him for one. Not only that, but he’d probably heard if not seen her struggling with Lincoln. She shook her head at him, suddenly irritated. “The hell are you doing out here?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Cashing in on that promenade we spoke of.”
Nell stared him down. “What?”
“I recall promising to show you the city sometime, but it seems like you’ve been going out of your way to avoid me ever since, so apparently this was the only way to win a few minutes of your time.”
She frowned. “How did you find me?”
“I tracked you.” Levi smirked, and despite herself, the knot in the center of her chest loosened ever so slightly.
“How’s that now?”
He straightened in the saddle and cleared his throat as if he were about to launch into some grand explanation. “You see, I took note of the mud on your boots and knew it came from the banks of the South Platte. I knew you left the house early in the day, so I started at the livery stables and eventually once I got out of town was able to find the tracks of your unusually large horse and followed them in this direction until I came upon you here.”
Nell stared him down, her eyebrows furrowing. Even Lincoln’s ears had gone back. She was about to take him seriously, but realized he was starting to grin.
“I’ve been in cow pastures less full of bullshit than you,” she said finally.
His grin blossomed and he chuckled like he’d been caught red-handed. “I had you for a moment there,” he insisted.
She scoffed.
“In truth, Alice told me you’ve been riding up this way recently,” he explained.
“And you decided to follow me.”
“Well. As I said. I’ve been hoping to take a tour of the city with you, but I’m starting to fear I’ve done something to offend.”
Nell stared him down and shook her head. “You haven’t.”
Levi nodded, nudging his horse closer. “Only I joked about you not being a good cook, that morning I came back from Deadwood. I thought perhaps it wasn’t as well received as I thought.”
Nell took her hat off and ran the back of her hand across her forehead, sighed in agitation. Despite the chill in the air, she had sweat on her face. “No. You did not offend me.”
Levi nodded slowly and took in the scene in front of him. “Having some trouble with your tack?”
She looked up at him, then over at Lincoln’s abandoned bridle. “I—was just going to stop and let her graze.”
“I see.” He was quiet for a moment and leaned his forearm against the pommel of his saddle. “It’s a nice spot.”
“I thought so.”
He contemplated it for a bit longer. “If it were me, personally, I’d pick a spot over there.”
“What?”
Levi gestured toward a spot behind Nell. “By the tree. Have a nice view, to start. Not near the water. You want a high and dry place.”
She stared up at him, her throat going dry.
About Author Stephanie Zayatz…
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Links to Stephanie’s websites, blogs, books, #ad, etc.:
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Ash-Reckoning-Stephanie-Zayatz-ebook/dp/B0H19Q9KPL?ref_=ast_author_mpb
Website: https://www.facebook.com/szayatzwriting
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Intriguing and interesting book title and excerpt so much so I want to read the book really like book cover looking forward to reading book, you’re a new author for me so looking to trying your books and writing style