The guest on my blog this week is author, Kathryn J. Bain.
Kathryn J. Bain began writing more than ten years ago. Her first release,. Breathless, came out January 13, 2012. Her novella, Game of Hearts, was released in March 2012 followed by her inspirational romantic suspense, Catch Your Breath. She is the former President of Florida Sisters in Crime and Membership Director for Ancient City Romance Authors. She is currently the Public Relations Director for Ancient City Romance Authors. To survive and pay bills, she has been a paralegal for over twenty years and works for an attorney who specializes in elder law. She has two daughters and a dog named Gretchen. Her first grandchild is due in 2013. Kathryn grew up in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. In 1981, she moved to Boise, but it apparently wasn’t far enough south, because two years later she headed to Jacksonville, Florida and has lived in the sunshine ever since.
Kathy’s new novel is, Knight & Day:
A name can mean a lot. You expect a Jasper to be the CEO of a company. Name your son Phineas, well, he might get beat up a lot. However if you chose to call your daughter Trubleh (True blay), you get what you ask for.
Trubleh Lawrence makes a habit out of discovering dead bodies. When the police look to her as a suspect, she has no choice but to search for the killer. If that’s not bad enough she has to deal with a grandmother who has visions, a co-worker who makes the Wicked Witch of the West look like Shirley Temple, and a guy who constantly reminds her that celibacy is hard when a hot male’s around.
Here is a short excerpt:
Why does this always happen to me? It’s hard enough to keep God’s commandments, at least the easy ones, without running into someone who died. It’s like I attract them. Maybe I should find a support group. “Hi, my name is Trubleh Lawrence, and I find dead bodies.”
I’d run screaming if I wasn’t used to it.
Gerald Simpson had been looking to hire someone for his private investigation office. The ad read:
Receptionist for small firm. No experience necessary.
About to turn thirty, newly divorced, with no money or marketable skills, it fit my qualifications perfectly. I’d arrived at fifteen ’til for my nine o’clock appointment. My daddy said if you come early, it’d show them you’re eager. If I’d waited, in this case, another applicant might have found Mr. Simpson.
When I arrived, the door stood ajar. The lock clicked behind me when I shut the door. Not a common occurrence for most businesses. Maybe private investigators need to take special precautions from husbands they’ve caught cheating.
Besides, Mr. Simpson could just be asleep and have his head on his desk. For all I knew, he might have had a long night out surveilling or whatever investigators do.
I’d been dealing with a cold the last week which threw my sense of smell off or the odor would have warned me when I entered the office.
I walked around to nudge him awake and saw the bloody hole in the back of his skull. My ick factor rose. Gray powder burns told me the shot had been up close. He looked like he’d been a large man when he was alive. Of course, the bloating from decomposition might have caused some of that.
A sheriff’s daughter with an adeptness born of years of tagging with my father on cases, I scanned the room. Not much to look at. A long row of filing cabinets aligned the opposite wall. Mr. Simpson’s desk appeared to be twice the size as the one up front. I assumed the smaller one would’ve been mine if he’d given me the job.
I sighed, resigned to the fact I’d be forever unemployed.
Mr. Simpson’s purplish face and pale lips said I had more important things to think about. He’d probably died within the past hour. Why couldn’t I be late? Tattooing from the gunpowder particles surrounded the wound, but no soot. The gun, a Smith & Wesson five round .38 Special laid at least ten feet from the body. The pink grip announced loud and clear that a woman more than likely killed him. Lucky me. I happened to be female.
I pulled out my cell.
“911 operator. Is this an emergency?”
“Yes. Somebody’s been shot in the River City Plaza on Prudential Drive. Suite 613.”
Once I hung up, a noise in the corridor drew my attention. The doorknob jerked back and forth, then the scraping of something in the lock.
My heart somersaulted while my mind raced with possibilities. A robber? Not likely. The killer? A better bet.
A small closet in the corner seemed a good place to hide. My heart and I raced toward it. A beige raincoat suspended by a wire hook appeared to float in air. I guess that’s standard wear in the P.I. business. The small space carried a musty smell. I scooted further back into the closet and pulled the door shut behind me. The only light came in from a slit at the floor.
Please God, don’t let my stomach growl. I wished I’d eaten breakfast.
I tried not to breathe too loud. File drawers opened and closed. Papers shuffled. Then footsteps neared my hiding spot. I grabbed my large green purse with both hands and held my breath. He might kill me, but I’d leave a few marks before I went.
Day-ebook/dp/B00AZ3KZOI/ref= sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&qid=1358105154& sr=8-6&keywords=kathryn+bain
Kathy is giving away a free copy of her novel, Night & Day, to one lucky reader who leaves a comment. Be sure you leave your email address so she can contact you if you’re the winner.
And the lucky winner is: Marja McGraw.