TILL JUSTICE IS SERVED
BIO: A student of creative writing in her youth, Jerrie set aside her passion when life presented her with a John Wayne husband, and two wonderful children. A career in logistics offered her the opportunity to travel to many beautiful locations in America, and she revisits them in her romantic suspense novels. But the characters went with her, talked to her, and insisted she share their dark, sexy stories with others. She writes alpha males and kick-ass women who weave their way through death and fear to emerge stronger because of, and on occasion in spite of, their love for each other. She likes to torture people, make them suffer, and if they’re strong enough, they live happily ever after.
The author of THE GREEN-EYED DOLL, THE LAST EXECUTION, SOMONE TO WATCH OVER ME, HELL OR HIGH WATER, and COLD DAY in HELL, books 1 and 2 in the Lost and Found, Inc. series. Book 3, NO CHANCE in HELL is scheduled for release in early April.
Social media links: http://jerriealexander.com - website http://www.jerriealexander.com/category/blog/ http://www.twitter.com/jerriealexander https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jerrie-Alexander /121521571355959?ref=hl http://www.goodreads.com/jerriealexander http://pinterest.com/jerriealexander/
Rafe used the time to inspect every aspect of her home, starting with the living room. The open floor plan gave him a quick overview. Modest furniture of laminated oak and butter-colored faux leather told him her salary was that of an underpaid educator. Her TV wasn't large, but her DVD collection hinted she enjoyed romantic comedies. A bookcase-lined wall reflected her other interests, running the gamut from books on the psychology of today's teenager to a stack of different sports magazines.
A dozen trophies and plaques decorated her counters and tables. Scattered around the room were pictures of young girls wearing YMCA basketball jerseys. A beautiful woman stood proudly behind them. Erin herself. The tall, lanky girl with the caramel-colored hair had grown into a traffic stopper. He moved down the hall and found her bedroom.
Across the hall, he wandered into her office. Rafe circled the room, walking past the desk and cloth secretary's chair, reading the titles off a stack of training manuals. He found more team pictures and sports memorabilia. Then he crossed to her bedroom. A queen-size bed, dresser, and easy chair took up most of the space. He closed his eyes and breathed in a light floral scent. Yeah, she spent most of her time at home in here. This area was her refuge. For some odd reason, he was reluctant to leave. He shook off the feeling and returned to the living room.
"So? What do you think?"
Jeff held out two bottles of flavored water so Rafe could choose one.
"That she lives for others, loves sports, is frugal, and doesn't entertain a lot."
He selected the least-disgusting-sounding drink, a lemon-lime something. He left out his surprise at how beautiful she'd become, remembering how disappointed his dad and Jeff had been that Rafe's relationship with Erin had ended before it began.
"How do you know she doesn't entertain a lot?"
"There is one coaster on the coffee table. One cup sitting next to the coffeepot. And the drinks you carried in here? I'm betting there was no beer, and she only keeps flavored water in the fridge. And she shouldn't leave a key hidden under the garden fairy by the door. How am I doing so far?"
"Pretty damn good."
The older man smiled, and this time it looked sincere. The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway drew them back into the living room. Rafe moved to the far side of the room and settled in a wing-back chair. He assumed their company was Erin and her attorney, but it was Rafe's nature to be cautious. The only weapon he carried today was the subcompact .45 strapped to his ankle, so he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His hands hung loose and at the ready. The lock on the front door turned, and a second later, Erin stepped inside, followed by a well-dressed man. Jesus. She took his breath away.