I'm thrilled to announce the release of Memory's Prisoner!
Now available at Amazon and Payhip!
Detectives Mitchell Reid and Joseph Valentino of the Chicago Police Department have finally moved from friends to lovers, partners on the job and off. Their new-found happiness is short-lived, however, when an escaped felon with a thirst for revenge shatters their world. The police tactical raid to recapture the convict goes horribly wrong, leaving Mitch severely wounded and Joey with a devastating head injury that plunges him into a long-term coma.
Two years later, Joey awakens with partial amnesia, which has erased a year of his life, including the knowledge that he and Mitch are lovers. Unwilling to force Joey back into a relationship if his feelings for him were no longer there, Mitch can only suffer in silence as he supports Joey on his long road to recovery, hoping he will remember the love they once shared.
NOTE: This is a second edition of a previously published book that has been re-edited, revised and expanded by 10,000 words
Joey turned to leave, but Mitch stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.
Blue eyes locked with blue, the connection the two men shared never more apparent than at that moment, a myriad of emotions flashing across both their features.
“I know,” Joey whispered. Then he was gone, moving into the darkness.
Taking up his position with the rest of his team, Mitch was still nagged by the feeling of unease at seeing that flash of light. Despite trying to convince himself it was probably nothing, he reached once again for the FLIR binoculars. He concentrated only on the ground this time, at the bottoms of the crates and boxes, where he had seen the first flash. At first, there was nothing, but there, there it was again. A quick flash, then it was gone. Mitch held still, waiting. Another flash. And then to his right, in his peripheral vision, another one. This time recognition slammed into him like a freight train, just as Tim and his team raced around the corner toward Doyle’s hideout.
“No! Wait!” Mitch cried out, scrambling from his position against the wall, racing around the far end, weapon drawn.
The first explosion lit up the night sky in a brilliant ball of orange and yellow fire and smoke, taking with it the crate the bomb was in and the first two officers, their bodies tossed into the air like feathers. The warehouse windows shattered from the inside, automatic gunfire spraying out, cutting down another of Tim’s men. Cries rang out from the injured officers as the rest of the team returned fire and scrambled for cover, trying to reach their fallen comrades.
Mitch ran full tilt into the battlefield the dock had now become, firing as he went, the rest of Team Two right behind him, hearing Tim bellowing out orders to the remainder of his own team. Mitch reached the first wounded officer just as a second crate exploded, knocking another man off his feet, wounded as well.
The air was thick with smoke and angry gunfire as Mitch pulled the unconscious officer at his feet to relative safety before racing back into the war zone, determined to end this. Fearing the remainder of the crates were also rigged with explosives but seeing nothing else to use as cover, the detective holstered his weapon, unclipped the flash-bang grenade from his Kevlar vest, and began his dangerous one-man assault on the warehouse.
Counting on the darkness, the smoke, and Tim and his men to keep Doyle and his men busy, Mitch moved stealthily to the far side of the dock. Trying not to draw attention to himself, he slipped from crate to crate, drawing ever closer to the windows of the warehouse.
He almost made it.
Mitch crouched at the corner of one crate, preparing to slip to the next closet one. The flash from a rifle’s muzzle inside the warehouse caught Mitch’s eye as it illuminated the gunman.
Their eyes locked and a twisted grin crossed the psychopath’s face. Mitch’s cover had been blown. A split second later he heard the ominous click of the triggering mechanism inside the crate he was leaning against and Mitch knew he had seconds to live.
Launching himself up and away from the crate, heedless of the gunfire surrounding him, Mitch desperately tried to put as much distance between himself and the bomb as he could. Four frantic strides were all he could manage.
The force of the explosion threw him off his feet and hurled him forward, wave after wave of intense heat and debris at his back, before he slammed down onto the dock. Excruciating pain like he’d never known raced through his battered body as he rolled across the wooden surface before coming to rest on his back. Dazed and winded, fighting unconsciousness, Mitch heard Tim frantically calling his name. His head lolled to the side as he tried to answer but his gaze caught sight of the torn, bloody mass of flesh that was his left leg.
Joey’s cry of utter terror drew Mitch’s attention from his mangled body. He looked up to see his partner racing toward him, surrounded by Team Three, weapons blazing. Uncaring of the extreme danger he was in, Joey charged forward in a desperate rescue attempt, his fear for Mitch written all over his face.
Horrified, Mitch tried to call out, managing only a hoarse whisper. “No…get back….”
Two feet from Mitch it happened.
Another crate exploded, sending huge pieces of debris through the air. Unable to slow down or change course, Joey plowed directly through the explosion, his head suddenly snapping violently to the side as a large piece of wood impacted it.
The scream was torn from Mitch’s throat as he watched his partner’s expression change from one of terrified concern to one of total confusion as the wood hit its mark and his body crumpled down onto the dock.
The nightmare had begun.
I’ve been writing fiction since childhood and decided to take the plunge and go pro in 2008, finding to my amazement that people truly enjoyed my love stories. I’m a romantic at heart, and my tales reflect the desire we all have to find “the one,” persevering through trials and heartache for that happy ending.
I have a degree in fine arts and have spent the last twenty years working as a graphic designer, though I’d much rather be writing. I was born in Chicago and still live there today with my husband and our furry, four-footed children, er… cats.
If I’m not brainstorming story ideas, you can find me at a sci-fi convention, in front of a furnace doing glass blowing, or on a mat twisted into a yoga pose.
Amazon Author Page: