Book of the Quarter

Connections

In this adventure thriller, Connections, Sandy and her best friend found missing relatives, spied on cheating spouses and caught a few bail jumpers. This private investigator never imagined the bad guys would chase her.
Running for her life, Sandy Herrick discovered that God was the only one with her who wasn’t talking smack, trying to kill her or get into her pants. As she and her friends try to figure out who framed them, they all discover that there was more to each other than they thought they knew.
As evil forces closed in on them, they have to determine who they trust and what they believe about each other. Would this be enough to save them?

Available on Amazon

and Books2Read.com

Sample Chapter

A 42-year-old Anglo-American woman, Kayna Jones walked into the country bar. Toby Keith’s Red Solo Cup was blaring from the sound system. Her 5’8” tall thin frame had on a dark blue suit with a cream colored shirt and her blonde hair was in a loose bun on her head. She had a red scarf around her neck to protect her from the cold air and looked like an attorney. She stopped a moment and looked around to let her eyes adjust to the dark bar. The place was half full of locals.  She could tell by the way they were dressed; no one was in clean pressed clothes. She looked around the bar until she found the one she was looking for. She walked over to a large biker and handed him papers.

“Elmer Williams, AKA Dipper, this is a restraining order. It says you need to stay away from my client.  If you do not, you will be arrested.”

Dipper looked at her in disbelief.

“I ain’t afraid of no sheriff or you either.”

“Well good, cause I gave her a gun and told her to shoot you in the genitals.  If you go near her, you will spend the rest of your life as a eunuch. So I hope you do.”

Kayna walked out of the bar. She was late.

As Kayna made her way to her car, a tall blonde cowboy walked out behind her and watched her get in her car.

She had been late for her volunteer time at the Dianna Harmon Homeless Shelter. It was a small soup kitchen on the east side of Fort Worth, Texas.  The Fort Worth skyline was visible from the storefront windows. It served about 50 people a day.  It was Kayna’s day to help serve lunch. The former shoe store had been converted into a soup kitchen. Tables and chairs filled the front of the room, while the food line was at the back of the room. Hungry people got a tray and utensils, and then moved from station to station. Kayna stood at the first station, filling bowls with soup and bread as people filed through the line.  She had a hair net on her head and plastic gloves on her hands.  Sandy walked up to the serving line with her hair net on, but she had on yellow rubber gloves.

“Are you done chasing ‘perps?” Kayna asked, then to the woman in front of her “Soup?”

The woman nodded and Kayna served her soup.

“Bandit thinks the case is closed. You know that fool gave my camera away.”

Sandy dropped cornbread on the woman’s plate.

“Our camera,” she asked, then to man in line, “Soup?”

The man nodded.  Kayna served him.

“Did he say when we’d get it back?”

“No,” she said and dropped cornbread on the man’s plate. “But I’m gonna charge him for it. And camera rental is going to be expensive.”

“Yeah. Good luck collecting that. Make sure you catch up with Chewy,” she said and then to man. “Soup?”

He nodded. She served him, and then back to Sandy, “He left me a message. I didn’t listen to it. I’ve been running.”

Sandy dropped cornbread on his plate.  He picked it up and dropped it back in the pan.

“You’re always running. You know we need to take off and go to the beach.”

Kayna to a woman, “Soup?”

The woman nodded. Kayna served, then to Sandy. “If we had a bigger client base we could.”

Sandy dropped cornbread on her plate.

“You should ask them if they want cornbread.”

Sandy rolled her eyes and prepared to drop another piece of cornbread.

“We should move to a bigger city, Houston, Dallas, San Antonio,” Kayna said.

“I don’t want to live in a bigger city. This is big city enough for me.”

 A few minutes later, Kayna and Sandy stood by a table rolling plastic ware into paper napkins. Kayna was diligently working. Sandy was slacking.

“You know Sandy, you need to check your attitude when you come here.”

“I don’t know what kind of demons you are working off, and I am here to help you, but they aren’t my demons. This ain’t my guilt complex.”

“You know what, I’ll finish this by myself.”

“Don’t be getting pissed off. I said I’d help you.”

They exchanged a few karate moves, with Kayna clearly the superior. But Sandy couldn’t wait to try the hold on her she had been practicing. Yet, Kayna pinned her against the wall.  They were good friends, closer than sisters, but fought like cats and dogs.

“You like the way I worked that?” Sandy asked.

“Yes. You did finally get it right,” Kayna said.

“Yeah. And I know you purposely didn’t teach me the counter move.”

“I ain’t stupid.”

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