Two men sat at the bar, nursing beers and avidly watching the television hung on the wall, bleating out some kind of sports program. The smell of beer and stale cigarette smoke permeated the air. Pushing open the door to the place, Kade stepped inside. He had an appointment to keep.Ī short while later, he parked his car on the street outside of a tiny bar, the neon sign blinking tiredly in the night. Kade’s watch said the hour was getting late, but he pointed the car in the direction of downtown. He slipped into his car, the engine of the Mercedes coming to life easily, despite the weather. Despite having kicked the habit years ago, the cravings never seemed to go away permanently. The snow and freezing temperatures had driven even the panhandlers and criminals inside.įor a brief moment, Kade longed for a cigarette.
Outside was bitter cold, December having hit Buffalo hard. When it didn’t immediately come to mind, he shrugged, grabbed his leather jacket and quietly let himself out of the woman’s apartment. Pausing for a moment, he frowned in concentration, trying to remember her name. He ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair, the locks tousled at the hands of the brunette. The moonlight that filtered through the blinds on the window provided enough illumination for him to find his clothes.Īfter he’d dressed, he retrieved his holster and gun, attaching them firmly to his hip. Kade Dennon rose silently from the bed, the brunette next to him still sleeping. Rarely do I recall seeing you without a book in your hand. And yes, Erica, one day when you’re older I’ll let you read it.įrom whom I inherited my love of reading. I appreciate your patience in enjoying fewer homemade dinners, instead enduring frozen pizzas and take-out as I spent evenings typing away on the computer. Lastly, thank you to my wonderful family.
Newfound friend and fellow book-lover, thank you for letting me exploit your awesome kindness (and excruciating logic and attention to detail). Your willingness to share your expertise in editing this manuscript humbles me and I’m grateful for you. Every writer should have a person like you whom they can ask “Is this utter crap?” and know they’re going to get an honest answer – whether they like it or not.
Without you and you’re unwavering enthusiasm and persistent heckling for more chapters, this book might still be unfinished. Thanks especially to my head cheerleader extraordinaire – Nicole. What a blessing all of you have been to me! Thank you to my cheerleaders – Paige, Emily, Stephanie, Kristi, Nicki and Lisa – for your encouragement and enthusiasm. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means – except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews – without written permission. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.Īll rights reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.
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