Free on Kindle February 4-8
Blurb:
Five years ago, a
tragic accident robbed Chris Smith of a normal life. Left with only a jagged
scar, a set of wedding rings, and bits of memory—smells, sounds, and fleeting
feelings—she copes with the loss of her identity. Amnesia has made her life a
living purgatory…until she meets Steve West.
Steve’s construction
company is remodeling the ski lifts in Purgatory, Colorado. However looking at
Chris is seeing the face of his deceased wife. Now the truths he’d been forced
to believe have him searching for answers.
Murder, deception,
and missing ransom money. Can Steve protect Chris…and prove she’s the wife he
never believed dead before the killer tries again?
Excerpt:
A swoosh of wind
burst through the front door as a man entered the building. Dragging her
attention away from the magazine, she turned to greet him. He hesitated for a
fraction of a second as if to get his bearings before trudging through the
lobby toward her. As soon as their eyes met, her words of welcome froze on her
tongue and the pain began—flashes of light across her vision—tightness in her
throat—intense, piercing sensations in her head. Panic and the desire to run
soon followed.
She massaged her forehead,
trying to rub away the stabbing pain that throbbed between her eyes, and then
returned her attention to the man in front of her, pulling the computer
keyboard toward her, determined to do her job despite the sudden fear gripping
her insides.
She attempted her
most professional tone. “Good morning. Welcome to the Inn at Purgatory. How can
I help you?”
No response.
She glanced up at
him. To her dismay, he presented all the indications of a panic attack. She
recognized the signs well. His forehead glistened with tiny beads of sweat. The
vein in his neck pulsed. Anxiety flashed in his eyes as he struggled with each
new breath he took.
“Mister, are you all
right?”
He braced against the
counter and rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. It’s just…you look like someone
I used to know.”
Chills ran down her
spine. He wasn’t creepy, not in the least. On the contrary, she sensed an
unmistakable connection to this stranger. She recoiled from the feeling, but
nothing could have pried her eyes from his for a few brief, intense moments.
Author bio:
Denise Moncrief is a
Southern girl, who’s lived in Louisiana all her life. And yes, she has a drawl.
She's been writing off and on since she was seventeen. She has a wonderful
husband and two incredible children. They not only endure her writing moods,
but also encourage her to indulge her passion.
Her first “novel” was
seventeen handwritten pages on school-ruled paper and an obvious rip-off of the
last romance novel she read. The urge to write wouldn't let go of her. In her
twenties, she started another novel, only to abandon it after Chapter Four or
Five. She started writing seriously about eight years ago and has already
published several stories.
Kim, thank you so much for hosting me during Free Days for Purgatory!
ReplyDelete