CAST A PALE SHADOW by Barbara Scott

Title of Book: Cast A Pale Shadow
Genre: Psychological suspense
Author: Barbara Scott
Website: www.barbarascottink.com
Publisher: Triskelion Publishing
Date of Release: June, 2007
ISBN: 978-1-60186-172-9

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SUMMARY:

Rescued as she flees a relationship suddenly turned abusive by the mysterious Nicholas Brewer, Trissa is charmed by his kindness. But Nicholas has a dark past to hide and a fierce determination to retain full grasp of his present. Always the shadow of his other self, Cole threatens to overtake him. It is Cole who guards his most dreaded memories and Cole who has stolen great swatches of his time so that Nicholas ceases to exist. Throughout his adult life Nicholas has sought the magic to ward off those blank times . When he thinks he has found that magic in Trissa, what desperate measures will he take to make it last?

Together, in a boarding house filled with an eclectic group of people, Trissa and Nicholas patch together a substitute family that they hope will buffer them from a world that has not been kind to either of them. Their progress toward this goal is threatened by Trissa’s father, who is determined to retrieve her from her new life. The confrontation between Bob Kirk and Nicholas ends in murder and the reemergence of Cole. Now Trissa must summon the strength to discover which of her two loves is man and which is shadow.

EXCERPT:
Prologue
Nicholas
Michigan

"Once upon a time," Nicholas whispered, so close he could feel the cold alabaster of her ear brush his lips, "There was a Sleeping Princess who waited only the kiss of her true love to awaken her from her long, lonely sleep." He stretched himself out beside her, the chill of her body drawing away his warmth even through their clothes. He would see the soft, dark, warmth of her eyes again. She would open them to him. He would find the magic in her, in both of them this time.

With a light sweep of his fingertips— he could not bear to touch the pale stone of her forehead for fear the ice would reach in to pierce his soul— he lifted the tumbled wisps of her hair away from her eyes. He waited the very moment she flickered them open, when she would see that it was he Nicholas who performed the miracle and love him all the more for it. She had failed to give him the miracle he asked, but he would not fail her. They would have another chance.

Her perfect stillness nearly daunted him even while he envied her for it. Wasn't that utter peace what he had wanted? That she had attained it so effortlessly while he was left alone and wanting filled him with resentment and fear. Perhaps it would never be possible for him and, in slipping away as she had, she had demonstrated her despair of him, her lack of trust.

"I can't live without you," she said so softly in her tear-filled whisper.

"I wouldn't ask that of you," he promised. But he realized now that she had not understood what he truly was asking of her. He couldn’t let himself believe her failure was deliberate. A misunderstanding. Yes, a tragic misunderstanding. That was all.

Her lips were slightly parted and nearly as pale as her ashen cheeks. Nicholas brushed his own tears until his fingertips were wet with them, then traced her mouth with their moistness. He could taste the saltiness of them as he kissed her, thinking of magic and miracles and wishes and love. But nothing happened. Her stillness was impenetrable. Her eyes refused to open. She was gone, and he could not reach her.

Tenderly, he straightened her crisp, white collar and smoothed the bright red wool of her favorite skirt, then folded the quilt around her, tucking it up and around her shiny black shoes, the ones she loved with the heels she could barely walk in. He tied the first rope at her knees and the second at her hips. Her cold, little fingers were stiffening slightly as he folded her hands, one over the other. across her chest.

Too late, he remembered the ring he had bought her and never gave her, never had time to. A vision of her bright, loving eyes brimming with tears as they might have been when she saw it for the first time staggered him back to sag in the cracked, leather armchair where she had sat on his lap so many times.

He would never see her again. He would never again hear her sweet laughter when he whispered in her ear. He would never again feel the, tender heat of her surrounding him, taking him with her as she plummeted over the brink of her waterfall of stars, as she called it.

Forcing himself to rise, Nicholas searched the drawers of the painted chest they both shared until he found the ring, still in its blue velvet box, still in its white paper bag. It had two tiny rubies, her birthstone and his.

"We are almost cosmic twins, did you know that? Only three days and two years apart," she murmured with delight when he told her his birthdate. Lifting the ring from its satin nest, he breathed on it and polished it against his jeans before placing it on her third finger, left hand.

"Until death do us part, Cynthia. But it wasn’t supposed to part us. Why couldn't you take me with you?" He rested his forehead against her hands until he felt their ice numb his heart.

Finally, there was nothing to do but fold the corner of the quilt over her face and tie another rope at her shoulders. Just enough twilight remained for him to complete his task without a lantern. Nicholas gathered his precious bundle in his arms and left the silent, empty cabin, winding his way through the trees until he reached the grave he had prepared.

Gently, he lay Cynthia at the edge, then jumped in, positioning himself to shoulder her and nestle her into the soft, cool earth at the bottom. If he could just think of a way, he would lay down beside her and pull the dirt like a blanket around them both.

But there was no way, so he hoisted himself up out of the grave and bid her goodbye. He began to fill the hole.

Cynthia. Michigan. Eventually he hoped that would be all he would remember. And in time that would fade and jumble, so that when the night terrors struck, he wouldn't recall which face belonged to which name or whether last year had been the year for Laura in Milwaukee or was it the year before? Could it really have been as long as five years ago when Valerie— ?

He hated that it happened that way. It seemed disloyal to Cynthia and Laura and— no, it was best not to think of Valerie at all.

Nicholas had loved each of them, loved them to the depths of his soul, but he had to forget them. Or else how would he have the strength to go on to the next?

And maybe the next would be the one.

It was safer, he believed, to count to only two: the last one and the next one. He could not allow himself to think of the others, or to suppose there would be any beyond the next one. He was not some monster who wanted this to go on forever. Cynthia didn't think him a monster. None of them did.

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THE ROUX IN THE GUMBO by Kim Robinson

Title of Book: The Roux in the Gumbo
Author: Kim Robinson
Website: www.kim-robinson.com
Publisher: J'Adore Publishing
Date of Release: December 2006
ISBN-10: 0979126800
ISBN-13: 978-0979126802

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EXCERPT:

Gizelle welcomed the feel of the cool sheets against her skin. She crawled exhausted into her bed, naked as always during the humid summer. As Gizelle slept, her subconscious took her back to a night twenty years ago in 1850. She was twelve years old and alone in the middle of the night. Scared, tired, hungry, and sick, she sat crying and shivering under a huge magnolia tree in driving rain, deep in the bayou near Lake Charles, Louisiana.

Gizelle decided to sit and wait. Surely, one of the water moccasins or some deadly spider would put her out of her misery. No matter what, she was not going back to the plantation.

Before Gizelle was old enough to be weaned, she had been wrenched from her mother’s breast and sold to the Sunrise Plantation. They should have called it the Graveyard because so many slaves were buried there. They worked clearing the bayous so the boats could navigate through the waters to bring in materials to build plantation homes and slave quarters. They also brought in seed and supplies to cultivate the fields of cotton, rice, and sugar cane; anything that was agriculturally profitable.

The overseers did not allow slaves who labored in the fetid water to get out as they watched others pulled under by the alligators. If the poisonous snakes and spiders did not kill them, the elements would. They worked regardless of rain or snow. Those who fell ill were left on the bank to die. The owners could always buy more slaves.

During the epidemics, cholera and yellow fever laid claim to many. Hundreds expired from colds, croup or the many diseases that thrived in the swampy water. The soles of their feet split open from the fungus brought on by standing in dirty water for too long. They bound their feet with bandages but without proper treatment, the cuts developed gangrene. The limbs were amputated. Cripples sat in pirogues to transfer the debris from the water to the bank. A slave was lucky to make it through a year working at Sunrise.

Gizelle’s dark skin dictated that by the age of four she was sent to the fields to pick cotton. When she was nine years old, the overseer gave her a gift. He raped her. He had been doing so for three years now. He had very strange and unnatural desires, and she could not take it anymore. She would prefer death to the tortured existence she was living.

Each time lightning brightened the sky, Gizelle prayed for God to end her life. Finally, the storm passed. She gathered Spanish moss from the trees and made a pallet. She closed her eyes, hoping they would never again open.

“Cher, Cher, Wake up chile! What are you doing here? Get up Cher you are soaking wet. Come with me. Open your eyes,” the voice said.

Gizelle heard the words but did not want to open her eyes. She did not want to be alive. Maybe God was a woman, or maybe he was busy and had sent an angel for her. She peeked out with one eye. Nope it was not God; God did not have long white hair that hung down to his waist. She opened the other eye and looked into eyes that looked like a cat, colored a greenish-gray. Her face was soft with what seemed to be concern. No one had ever looked at Gizelle with such kindness.

“Can you stand, Cher? Are you hurt?” The woman touched Gizelle’s forehead and found it burning with fever. “You poor chile, you come with Tallulah; I will make you better,” she said.

Gizelle rose shakily to her feet and leaned against the strange woman. Tallulah was the tallest woman she had ever seen. When Gizelle got dizzy and could not walk, Tallulah carried her.

Tallulah took her to a cabin built three feet above the ground alongside a creek, allowing the water to flow under rather than through the house when the water was high. It was a cozy habitat.

Three large rooms were more than adequate for Tallulah. One, a large inviting kitchen kept warm by the stove where she prepared her food. Another was the bedroom, which boasted a four-poster bed with night tables and an armoire that covered an entire wall. The custom furniture would have done any mansion proud. The last room had a massive desk on one wall.

The other three walls were bookshelves, overflowing with books and mementos of her life. The collection of Indian and French artifacts spoke volumes about Tallulah’s heritage.

Gizelle dreamt that someone removed her wet clothes and placed her in a large metal basin filled with lavender scented water that had been warmed in a teakettle that sat on the top of a big pot-bellied stove. Her hair was gently washed and braided. She was spooned hot soup; the tastiest she had ever eaten, nothing like the slop at Sunrise. The woman held a cup for her so she could sip delicious honey-sweetened herb tea. It soothed and warmed her from the inside out.

When she was out of the tub, Gizelle’s body was rubbed down with oils that made her skin feel smooth and soft like a baby. The towel was soft, like freshly ginned and cleaned cotton. She wondered if she was dreaming, or maybe this was heaven. Wherever she was, this was where she wanted to be.

Gizelle awoke in the comfort of a soft feather mattress. This must be how the people in the big house slept, she thought. She was afraid that if she moved, her surroundings would disappear and she would find herself back on the floor of her cabin. Tallulah warmed the sheets by filling a bottle with hot water and rolling it between them. The quilt smelled as if it were filled with fragrant flowers. She drifted back to sleep.



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ANAZ-VOORHI by Vijaya Schartz

Title of Book: Anaz-voohri
Series: Operation Pleiades

Genre: Sci-fi romance

Author: Vijaya Schartz

Website: http://www.vijayaschartz.com/

Publisher's Name: Triskelion Publishing

Date of Release: January 2007

ISBN: 9781601860330

BUY ANAZ-VOOHRI BY VIJAYA SCHARZ HERE!

SUMMARY:

After 800 years, the Anaz-voohri have returned from the stars to steal our children, and they have a nefarious plan! Since he witnessed the abduction of his baby sister by an alien creature, Zack will stop at nothing to rescue her, even if it means joining the Special Forces. But Tia Vargas, the reckless amazon training the secret unit for a highly classified mission, has no use for this rebellious recruit, at least not on the battlefield, until Zack’s farfetched stories prove to be true, and tragedy strikes... To save those he loves, Zack will sacrifice everything beyond human endurance. But the fate of humanity is at stake, and Tia harbors a deadly secret...

EXCERPT:

Chapter One - Los Angeles - July 2003

Zack woke up with a start, unable to see anything. Anything at all. Had the power gone out? A subtle vibration permeated the house. Earthquake? No. Earthquakes didn’t make the walls sing.
Something was wrong. With no glow from the digital clock or from his computer screen, Zack tossed his blanket aside and felt his way to the window. He pulled up the black roman shade and lifted the glass pane. The sweet fragrance of roses from the front yard filled the room. As he craned his neck outside, the second story view revealed a full moon but no street lights in the whole residential area of Granada Hills. Had all of Los Angeles blacked out?

Outside, the strong vibration shook the foliage of the eucalyptus trees. As far as Zack could see, the streets and houses looked dark and quiet. Too dark, too quiet, with no breeze, no birds, not even the chirp of a cricket.

Moonlight filtering into the room illuminated the life-size poster of Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider. As the vibration intensified, something familiar tugged at Zack’s mind. Ashley? His baby sister screeched for help in his head! She was terrified.

Rushing out of the bedroom, Zack stumbled over his sneakers and stepped into the ink black hallway. The vibration shook the hardwood under his bare feet. The smell of burnt rubber or heated machinery assaulted his nostrils. How weird!

Feeling his way along the wall, Zack turned the corner and saw an outline of white radiance around Ashley’s door. He’d left it ajar last night.

Wearing only his boxers and tee-shirt, Zack shivered when a malevolent breeze coursed across his skin, as if to keep him away. Was he dreaming? He bit his lip. It hurt, and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Wide awake! His heart beat so hard, it threatened to explode.

Outside Ashley’s door, their Persian cat arched his back and hissed, spooked. His bristled tail rose straight up in the air, sparking with static electricity.

"What’s going on in there, Dude?" Zack whispered, his heart faltering. He swallowed with a dry throat, remembering the horror movies he used to enjoy watching. But this was no movie, and he couldn’t stand the thought of his baby sister in any danger.

Zack moved sluggishly, like through water with weights on his ankles. Had the air become dense? Had he landed in the middle of a strange videogame? Finally he pushed the door open. Blinded by bright light, Zack stood paralyzed. He tried to step inside, to no avail. His legs refused to move.

Unable to scream his frustration, he remained frozen in the doorway, immobilized by a strange force that controlled his body. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the unobstructed view of his sister’s room chilled his spine.

Bent over the bed, a tall creature of humanoid proportions hovered above the floor, wearing a long, shimmering cape that accentuated its square shoulders. Seven-year-old Ashley, her blue eyes wide with terror, blonde curls framing her tan face, clutched her favorite Barbie Doll, her mouth open in a silent wail.

Get away from my sister, you freak! No word came out of Zack’s mouth.

The creature turned to face Zack. Under the hood, the bald skull glowed from within, blue, pink and green, like a see-through phone. The face had large oval eyes, milky skin, elongated cheeks, and a straight thin mouth etched with grim determination.

Hang on, Ashley, I’m coming. When Zack attempted to rush the creature, his feet stuck to the floor. He tried to yell but his vocal cords remained mute. He wanted to break the freak’s skull, bloody the monster’s small nose, make it feel pain. What did this thing want with his baby sister?

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LET US PLAY - A ROCK 'N ROLL LOVE STORY by Karen Magill

Title of Book: Let Us Play, A Rock 'n Roll Love Story
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Author: Karen Magill
Author Website: www.karenmagill.com
Publisher: Lulu Press Inc
Date of Release: October 2006
ISBN: 10:1847285198, 13:978-1847285195

BUY LET US PLAY BY KAREN MAGILL HERE!

SUMMARY:
In an uncertain time in the future, rock and roll music has been banned. Kaya More uses second sight to lead a group of rebels to bring it back. Their quest leads them from the streets of New York City to the peaks of the Canadian Rockies to the beaches of California. The pursuit heats up as combatants switch sides and the world joins forces as the rebels find adventure, music and love.

EXCERPT:

PROLOGUE

People ran from the concert hall, screaming in reaction to the horror they had just witnessed. Their clothes bloodied, assorted limbs broken and their minds numb by the massacre they had just seen, many fought their way to the ambulances that were just pulling up.

Appearing much calmer than the fleeing concert attendees, several identically black clad individuals emerged holding various assortments of weapons. Those waiting for services of the ambulance attendants cowered at the sight of these imposing figures and anyone who would manage to retain their sanity knew that they would never forget this horrific night.

In addition to their confusion, the earth began to shake violently. Buildings shook on their foundations; people struggled to maintain their balance as they attempted to assist those in need. Suddenly, a crevice in the ground began to form around the auditorium. Rapidly, it widened and the concert hall began a slow descent. Before the horrified eyes of the onlookers, the building slowly disappeared from sight and the ground sealed itself around the buried structure.

The earth stilled but was replaced by a forceful wind that seemed to approach tornado proportions. The gusts were so strong that people were thrown from where they stood and deposited a few feet away; trees were uprooted and vehicles were overturned. Sand from the nearby beach was lifted by the winds and created a sandstorm that was blinding.

As quickly as this chaos had started, it stopped with what many later claimed sounded like a great sigh. Two events of importance happened that night: Rock and roll music ended and a legend was born.

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UNDERDEAD by Liz Jasper

Title of Book: UNDERDEAD
Genre: Mystery
Author: Liz Jasper
Website: www.lizjasper.com
Publisher: Cerridwenpress
Date of Release: 5/31/07
ISBN: 09781419909344

PURCHASE UNDERDEAD HERE!

SUMMARY:
Science teacher Jo Gartner thinks teaching geology to hormonal pre-teens is deadly…until she is bitten by an inept vampire and becomes Underdead—all the problems of being a vampire, none of the perks. When she finds a body on her classroom floor with teeth marks in his neck, she must figure out whodunnit before her Underdead secret gets out. But she’s running out of time. The detective in charge of the case is dogging her every move, her vampire traits are evolving in new and embarrassing ways, and someone wants Jo dead…the traditional way!

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

I would have shot him then and there if I thought it would do any good, but Roger was such a troll the bullet would have bounced off his thick, ugly hide. Maybe poison…

Becky interrupted my pleasant daydream with a whack on my arm. “Okay, don’t turn around and look,” she said, “but a guy is staring at you. And he is hot!”

“How nice for him.”

All I needed to cap off this fabulous evening was Becky’s matchmaking. I knew her taste. He probably wore chains and had a Mohawk. Becky herself was dressed in what was best described as slightly toned-down punk, not exactly your typical high school chemistry teacher garb. It went with her spiky hair, which she wore bleached and dyed silver, though a red fringe had been added in honor of the holidays. I should mention that she is Korean, so the dye job isn’t exactly subtle. The headmaster turns a blind eye to this display of “personal expression” because she’s a first-rate teacher and, at twenty-seven, cheap.

Around us, hip twenty-somethings in denim and black sipped cappuccinos and talked knowledgeably about the band that was setting up in the bar area. But we weren’t sitting with them. We were at a long rectangular table in the back of the restaurant, where a small balding man in a hideous sweater was lecturing passionately about the insidious evil that was grade inflation. If I’d ever imagined a fate worse than death, this was it—the science department Christmas party.

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EXCITED LIGHT by Lynn Voedisch

Title of Book: Excited Light
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy, New Age
Author: Lynn Voedisch
Website: http://www.lynnvoedisch.com/
Publisher: ASJA Press
Date of Release: December 13, 2006
ISBN: 0545421733





PURCHASE EXCITED LIGHT HERE!

SUMMARY:
Ten-year-old Alex Griffin has plenty of secrets. At night, from his third-floor bedroom in a drafty Victorian mansion, Alex surveys the world and dreams about how life would be if he weren’t taking care of his single, alcoholic mom, Allegra Bellini. He confides his secrets to his beat-up toy duck, Dudley.Dudley answers him.Excited Light is a tale of magic and second chances. Young Alex, guided by Dudley and the mysterious entities who visit him, endures his mother’s drinking, waiting for a time when she can hear her own spiritual guides.Impulsive Allegra rushes into a reckless romance with Raf Neri, the managing editor of the local newspaper. Neri sweeps her away on a wild ride of nightclubbing, sex, and promises.Then, Neri goes a step too far, taking Allegra to the brink of death. It’s up to Alex to save his mother. Guided by Dudley and his angels, he attempts to work a miracle to set his mother free from her addiction.

EXCERPT:

Alex and Jack walked along the gravel path on the way to the baseball diamond, kicking stones and watching as the dust flew fine and wild about them. It had been a week with almost no rain, and a fine coat of dust had settled on everything: car roofs, lawn furniture, bird houses, even the individual leaves on trees.

As the two approached the baseball diamond -- a bleak affair of yellowish soil, crumbling bleachers and a chain-link backstop with a yawning hole -- a massive cloud of fine silt rose in the air about them. First sailing high, then swirling in a circle, the dust enveloped the boy and young man in their own private, gentle tornado.

Alex stood in the sandstorm, his eyes closed to tiny slits, and watched the light play on the tiny, almost microscopic bits of dust. Light reflected all around him, twinkling and twirling, shimmering with a phosphorescence. The flashes reminded him of sci-fi movies where light streaks passed starship windows, becoming white-hot ribbons containing all the available energy of entire worlds. Alex imagined being in a nebula in the Andromeda Galaxy. It felt as if he were drifting above gravity.

The boy rubbed his eyes, feeling the soot on his lids. By the time he blinked, the tiny storm had ended. The vortex collapsed, leaving Alex and Jack feeling dirty and hot, their eyes stinging from the assault of tiny particles.

Alex and Jack looked at each other and laughed. Alex dropped his head and gazed at the patterns his footprints made in the dust. He figured there was no sense in explaining what he just had seen.

"Why do things like that only happen to me?" Alex asked, mostly to himself.

"They happen to me, too," said Jack, looking straight into Alex's eyes. "You think you're the only one who experiences those little flashes of wonder, but you aren't alone, kiddo. Not by a long shot."

Alex looked down at the ground, wishing he hadn't sounded stupid. He knew his mom wouldn't have seen the lights and the transfixing colors. She'd have seen blowing dirt, pure and simple. No matter what Alex saw, no matter how he described it to his mom, she never, ever shared his experience.

So it was no wonder -- since Mom was Alex's only point of reference -- that he assumed he was strange. A little off. "Weird kid," as one of Mom's old boyfriends used to say. Alex looked up and saw Jack struggling, his mouth pursed as he composed his words.

"It's all a matter of perception, Alex," Jack said, stopping to sit on one of the dilapidated bleacher seats. "Perception. No one's right, and no one's wrong. You see what you want to see."

"Mom would see dirt."

"And we saw dirt, too. Only we also saw the light."

Alex looked into Jack's flashing gray eyes, straightened his back and began to swallow with care.

"The light, in between the dirt, the light is what they're missing," Alex said, brightening.

"The light, the empty spaces, the holes, the air," Jack said, looking off into the hazy distance. "That's what they always miss."

###

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TRUST IN THE WIND by Vicki M. Taylor

Title of Book: Trust in the Wind
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Women's Fiction
Author: Vicki M. Taylor
Website: www.vickimtaylor.com
Publisher: Mundania Press, LLC
Date of Release: June 30, 2006
ISBN: 10: 1594262047
13: 978-1594262043





PURCHASE TRUST IN THE WIND HERE!

SUMMARY:
When pregnant teen, Joanne, chooses single motherhood, she loses everything, including her family. Four years later, she's fiercely independent, trusts no one and is barely keeping her head above water. Roy is a Hillsborough County Sheriff, and a widower who lost his wife and child during a burglary gone terribly wrong. Six years later, he still refuses to love for fear of losing it again. Together, these two just might get a second chance to learn about trust and love. When you can't count on people, TRUST IN THE WIND.

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

Crash!

Joanne jumped as a trashcan slammed into the laundry room door. "God, I wish they'd go and get drunk someplace else."

Sheila pulled another t-shirt out of the dryer, folded it, and placed it on top of an already growing pile of clean laundry. With comic grace she pirouetted and said, "It's another lovely Saturday night here at the prestigious Arbor Meadows. Look at the A-list people milling about." With a flip of her hand she picked up the bottle of softener, held it like a microphone and gestured toward the large plate glass window next to the laundry room door.

"It's a star-studded bonanza tonight, folks!"

Sadie Matthews, their long-time neighbor, sometimes babysitter, and surrogate mother, laughed at Sheila's performance.

Clapping, she looked through the window at the scene Sheila referred to only to stop as fast as she started. There was really nothing to laugh about. She could see the usual drunken, brawling group of tenants letting off steam after a hard week's labor. She picked up her laundry basket piled high with fluffy towels.

Joanne pushed up a sigh from deep inside. She hated this place. "Damn, I wish I could afford some place better for Joey to grow up."

"Don't we all, honey." Sadie smiled as she put a hand on Joanne's shoulder and squeezed. "Don't we all." Adjusting her basket against her round and generous hip, she turned to the younger women, waggled a finger, and said, "Don't ya'll stay here too long, ya here? That group out there is fixing on getting mean real soon, and I don't want ya'll anywheres near here, ya got that?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sheila and Joanne chorused together then looked at each other and giggled like ten year olds.

"And, lock that door behind me when I leave. Don't need nothing happening to ya'll with those babies at home." Sadie clicked her tongue and stood on the outside of the laundry room door until Joanne firmly locked it. With a quick wave, she again adjusted the basket against her hip and headed for her little apartment, all the while, casting nervous, but determined, sideways glances to the rowdy group at the end of the parking lot.

Joanne turned from the door as the dryer buzzer called to her. Another load of clothes done. As soon as she finished folding this load, they could head back to their apartment and hide behind their doors pretending the noisy group didn't exist.

"Wanna come over and let the kids watch a video tonight?" Sheila asked.

Joanne pulled soft, warm clothes from the dryer and dropped them onto the tabletop. "Maybe, I dunno. I'll let you know how I feel after I put all these clothes away." Stray hairs escaped the confinement of her ponytail. She pushed the errant wisps back behind her ears.

While folding the last of the towels, she looked around the small laundry room. Paint peeled from the walls, scattered dryer sheets and a rainbow of lint littered the cracked linoleum floor. The too-small portable air conditioner mounted in the wall above the wobbly table blasted semi-warm air into her flushed face. The high humidity level didn't help. She pulled at the hem of her small t-shirt, realizing that the bright green t-shirt shouted "razz me" to the animals on the other side of the glass. At first thinking the t-shirt was cute and sufficient legal coverage for such a hot night, now brought to mind what kind of trouble it could cause her.

Trouble had a way of finding her. Keeping two steps ahead of trouble meant a lot of work for her already stressful life. Joanne wanted to pretend that this horrible place wasn't so bad and if she could just save a little more money she and Joey could move into a better part of town. Then this part of her life could go away and they'd put it behind them like a bad dream.

It would take a lot of pretending to imagine that the pitiful little apartment complex on the edge of the industrial part of town, next to the noisy railroad and the dirty Hillsborough River didn't exist.

BAM!

Joanne jumped.

The pounding on the window made her drop the towel she had just folded to the floor. Bending to pick it up, she glanced toward the window.

Sheila whispered to her, "Don't make eye contact. Just ignore them. Maybe they'll go away."

"They're disgusting. How can they think those gestures are attractive?" Joanne whispered back.
Sheila smothered a small laugh and shrugged her shoulders. "That's their universal mating signal. Good thing we're not from their species otherwise we wouldn't be able to help ourselves."

Now it was Joanne's turn to stifle an uneasy laugh. She tried to ignore the pounding on the glass and the taunts of the drunken onlookers from behind their only protection. "How many times have we asked for a payphone in here?" Joanne swung her arm open for emphasis. "Do you see one?"

"Come on hon, let's get our stuff and get out of here." Sheila tossed a pile of unmated socks into her basket.

The girls gathered the rest of their unfolded laundry into baskets then looked around to make sure they didn't leave anything behind.

"Walk fast and keep your head down, Jo." Sheila said with an air of confidence Joanne knew she really didn't feel deep inside. Joanne gave her credit for trying.

Even so, Joanne nodded, then lifted a basket and placed it on top of another. Exhaling, she lifted both baskets and headed for the door. Sheila did the same, and then reached out an unsteady hand to unlock the door.

"Here we go, into the lion's den."

The taunts and pounding increased in volume as the girls stepped out of the laundry room.

"Yo, mama, gimme some softness!"

"Hey baby, looking good!"

"I'd play house with you any day."

Sheila turned her head and caught Joanne's attention. "Remember, don't make eye contact, Jo."

"I don't plan on it." Joanne pulled her laundry baskets closer to her body. Biting her lower lip, she forced a blank look on her face and stared straight ahead.

"Do me? Yeah baby, let me do you!"

"Ooooo, yeah, shake it, shake it, gimme some fries with that creamy shake!"

"How original." Jo whispered.

"Shhh. . . don't start anything."

The crowd moved in unison toward the women. Joanne checked behind her. The loud taunting voices surrounded them. The rough looking pack closed in, blocking any escape.

"Stay close." Sheila said.

"You too."

The jeering crowd tossed expletives and vulgar comments.

Joanne searched the faces leering back at her. Men and women alike laughed at her discomfort. She shuffled her feet backward and stumbled on loose gravel.

Wobbling sideways, Joanne braced herself to fall. Determined not to make a spectacle of herself, she strained to keep her balance. Wincing, she tightened her grip on the plastic laundry basket even though the handle bit into the sensitive skin of her palm.

For the first time, fear threatened to overwhelm her senses. Joanne pushed aside the rising panic and concentrated on not provoking anyone in the crowd into attacking them.

"Hey, little mama, let me carry that basket for you." A large, unshaven man reached out to pull the basket from Sheila's hands.

"No, thank you."

The large, greasy hands pulled at Sheila's basket.

"I don't think so." Sheila firmly held the basket in both hands. "I don't need any help."

"Hey, me too, let me help!"

Joanne grimaced and turned away from the tall, shirtless man with strange tattoos covering his back. His dirty hands grabbed at her laundry basket.

"No, I can handle it myself."

"Oh, come on, pretty little girl, let me carry it for you. Then you can show me some appreciation."

Joanne pulled her laundry basket hard. She tugged against the stronger man's hold. "No! Give me my basket!"

Clothes flew threw the air and scattered about the ground.

Anger replaced her fear. "Shit, you son-of-a-bitch! Look what you did!" Joanne couldn't hold in her disgust any longer and let loose with a string of curse words that would have made her mother faint dead away.

Raucous laughter burst from the crowd watching the exchange.

Kneeling on the rough asphalt, Joanne pressed her lips closed so she wouldn't make any more outbursts that she might regret.

Without bothering to fold the scattered clothes, she shoved them into the basket as quick as she could. From nowhere, she was lifted to her feet and crushed to a foul smelling body.

"Let me go!"

"Oh, come on baby, you and me just need to get to know each other."

Joanne swallowed hard past a large lump. Bile rose in her throat. She wanted to vomit from the combined stench of sour sweat, cheap whiskey mixed with stale beer, and the foul breath of the man holding her.

"Hey, Jerk-off, let her go!"

"Sheila, get back. Go get help!"

"Oh, no you don't. You're gonna stay here." With that, Sheila's arms were pulled behind her back.

"Get off me!" Sheila kicked out. Her little plastic flip flops made no impact against her captor's leather boots and heavy jeans.

Joanne's mind raced. They wouldn't really try anything out here in the open, would they? Not with everyone watching? She had to convince these jerks to turn Sheila loose.

"Hey, let her-" sirens drowned the rest of her words. Wide-eyed, she watched several police cars with flashing blue and red lights pull into the complex from various directions, converging on the group. Bright lights lit up the dark. She heaved a sigh of relief as the smelly thug that held her close pushed her away.

Rubbing her arms and trying to wipe away the grime, she watched several uniformed officers round up the crowd. Two officers made their way to Sheila and Joanne just as Sadie hurried toward them. "Are you girls okay?" Sadie called out. "I knew there was gonna be trouble. I just knew it."

"Are you the one who called the police?" an officer asked.

"Yep, that's right. I did." Sadie clucked like a mother hen over her chicks as she checked first Joanne then Sheila for injuries.

"You poor things. Honestly, I don't know how this place got to be so bad. Why, when I first moved here we didn't have any hooligans running around like they owned the place." Sadie gave the officer a reproachful look that could have meant it was their fault her neighborhood fell to ruins. "Are you girls sure you're okay?"

Joanne and Sheila both assured Sadie that they were fine.

Two more officers moved forward as Sadie took a breath. "We're going to need statements from all of you. If you could come this way."

"Sure, no problem," Sheila walked with the female officer toward the laundry room door.

"Miss, if you could come this way?" another female officer motioned to Joanne.

"Of course. Let me just pick up my laundry first." Joanne knelt next to her basket.

***

Roy separated himself from the noisy crowd from which he had been gathering statements and watched silently as the small girl in the bright yellow t-shirt knelt down on the ground and gathered clothes that were strewn about. On impulse, he hurried over and offered to help.

"Here, let me get that for you."

"No!" Startled, Joanne reacted. She looked up to find a pair of kind gray eyes watching her carefully. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm still a little jumpy from all this." She motioned toward the crowd.

Roy stood then put a gentle hand under Joanne's elbow and lifted her effortlessly to her feet. He took both laundry baskets and strode toward a small bench outside the laundry room.

"Hey, where are you going with my clothes?"

Roy didn't bother answering her; he only cocked his head toward the other officer and asked if she'd taken the young lady's statement yet.

"I was just getting to that, sir."

"Okay, why don't you head over to see if Davis needs any help. I'll take over here."

"Yes, sir, Officer Bonham, sir." The female officer saluted then turned on her heel and moved quickly over to the group to give a hand.

"Is that how you get through life, just taking over?"

Roy carefully placed the baskets on the bench and turned to respond. All words escaped him when he looked down at the feisty spark in the young girl's blue eyes. She stood next to him; her arms hugged her thin body. He could see the writing on her t-shirt -'Dew Me' in bright neon green.

He smiled when she flipped her ponytail then crossed her arms over her chest as if knowing he was reading her t-shirt.

"What are you looking at?"

"I'm not sure."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm Sheriff Roy Bonham. I'll take your statement. Tell me what happened here." To cover his embarrassment, Roy pulled a small notebook and pen from his left breast pocket.

"We, uh . . . we, uh . . . I mean, Sheila and I were doing laundry and we . . ."

Tossing his notebook aside, Roy caught the slight woman before she fell to the ground. "Hey!"

He lifted her slender frame into his arms and sat on the bench. Roy gazed down at the face of the woman who just fainted. She was so small; she fit into his arms like a child. He noticed dark smudges beneath her eyes and wondered what kept her from getting enough sleep.

He raised his hand to brush a few strays of her honey colored hair from her forehead. His hand stopped when her eyelids fluttered open.

"What happened?"

"You fainted."

"No, I didn't."

A low rumble shook Roy's chest. "Yes, you did."

"I don't faint."

Roy tightened his arms when he noticed that her too-thin, soft body no longer lay pliant in his arms. "Hold on, let's make sure you're okay before you go moving around."

"Look Officer Bonham, I'm fine. Let me go, please."

He couldn't resist the embarrassed, pleading look in her eyes. "Alright. Be still." Roy released his hold on her and let her slide off his lap onto the bench. "Maybe you should see a paramedic just to be on the safe side?"

"I don't think so."

The sting in her voice pierced Roy's soul. It echoed on his face.

She must have seen the hurt look on his face because she hurried to say in a softer tone, "That's not necessary. I just got light headed. You know, the heat of the laundry room, the humidity, the cool night air, the . . ." she waved her arm to include the commotion surrounding them.

"Uh huh . . . when was the last time you ate?"

"I dunno. Lunch, maybe? No, wait. I skipped lunch to go and pick up some pants for Joey. I guess it was breakfast."

"You haven't eaten for over twelve hours? No wonder you fainted!"

"Yo, Bradford!" Roy yelled for a deputy sheriff. "Bring me a can of soda."

Roy looked down as a hand tapped his arm. "I drink diet soda."

"Not diet!" he yelled to Bradford then looked back at the young girl staring up at him. "You need the sugar."

His tone meant he wasn't going to argue about it. He watched her close her mouth and cross her hands over her chest. Looks like she's not used to being told what to do. I wonder why she's doing laundry and buying pants for this Joey instead of dating and doing what other girls her age do on the weekends?

###

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