DeLuca Family Collection
Author: Susan Rae
A Suspenseful Romance Collection
Coming December 12th 2014
from Musa Publishing
from Musa Publishing
Love makes your heart race, but passion can kill.
Three strong, captivating women.
Three intense, driven men.
One family devoted to justice.
Come journey with the DeLuca Family from the tumultuous streets of Chicago to the majestic peaks of Glacier National Park in these three intriguing full-length novels loaded with passion, suspense…and danger.
Heartbeats: “A terrific tale of romantic intrigue, with characters who are intelligent, skilled professionals and to whom we can easily relate.”—Marilyn Weigel, RTM
ICE blue: “With her well-developed characters, Susan keeps you glued to the pages.” —Susan Peck, My Cozie Corner
“…this romance, thriller was something that took hold of your heart as you read.” — Beth Cutwright, Beth Art From The Heart
TRUE blue: “The writing was terrific and the plot was intriguing and suspenseful. Rae masterfully deceives the reader into thinking that she knows who-dunnit but the reader will be deliciously surprised at the end.” —Cindi, Mammasez
Buy Links, Goodread Links and Excerpts!!!
From: Book 1 --> Heartbeats
He pressed his hand against the door handle, then paused as he heard the blare of a siren approaching from behind. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw a rescue squad speeding toward him. Its flashing lights reflected garishly off the windows of the homes that lined the street. As it passed his car, a police squad screamed around the corner up ahead and raced toward him from the other direction. Both braked in front of Elizabeth’s building.
A sense of dread seized him, followed instantly by the familiar rush of adrenaline as he grabbed his gun from the glove box and shoved it beneath his belt. He stepped out, eyes trained on the building, then jumped back as another squad car blared past, just missing him, and screeched to a halt behind the first. Deciding it was no time to be circumspect, he ran across the street. When he reached the front yard, Chicago’s finest were already approaching the building with their guns drawn.
“Police! Open up!” an officer shouted, banging on the glass front door.
Drake ran toward him, his heart pounding violently. “What’s going on here?” he yelled.
A second officer straight-armed him, holding him back.
“Sir, do you live here?” The cop gave him a quick once-over, taking in his suit and tie.
“No, but I — ”
“Then stand aside.”
“Hey, Sal,” the officer at the door yelled back, “can they get hold of that lady yet?”
With his hand still on Drake’s chest, the officer spoke into his shoulder mike, then replied a moment later, She’s not responding.”
“Hell, we gotta get into this building! Shoot the lock off.”
“Who’s not responding?” Drake asked, shoving at the cop’s hand.
“Sir, I asked you to step aside,” Sal warned, then nodded at two of the officers in the yard. “Gus, go around and see if you can get in through the back. Kick the damn door in if you have to, but be careful. Nick, you cover him. The perp could still be in there, for all we know.”
Drake had had enough. He reached into his suit coat and pulled out his ID. He needed info now.
“I’m FBI!” he shouted at Sal. “Now tell me what the hell is going on here!” The street that had been so quiet minutes before was now in chaos. Neighbors funneled out of their homes, trying to get a better look at the scene as another squad car approached. The paramedics waited impatiently beside their van, a gurney already wheeled out, ready to rush in as soon as the cops gave the okay.
Sal glanced at Drake’s ID. His eyes narrowed; then his attention was drawn back toward the entryway where the shadowy figure of a woman appeared behind the glass door.
“Open the door, ma’am,” the first officer ordered.
The lady fumbled with the lock, and the door flew open as the officer pushed through into the hall. Sal seemed to forget about Drake as he followed his partner inside.
But as the officers started up the staircase, two steps at a time with Drake at their heels, Sal shouted over his shoulder. “Thirty-two-year-old woman — multiple stab wounds.”
Drake’s steps faltered. A cold sweat iced his back and he was sure his heart stopped, if only for a second. Shoving his foreboding aside, he drew his own gun and pushed on up the stairs.
From Book 2 --> Ice Blue
A rush of adrenalin shot through Angela as she approached the accordioned car where a cop stood, adamantly motioning her over.
“What’ve we got?” she asked the officer. Another man, not a cop or rescue personnel, she presumed, as he wore no uniform jacket—hell, he wasn’t wearing a jacket at all—stood beside the officer, his back to her. His head and arms disappeared into the opening where the driver’s window should be. Blood, bright red and vibrant against the white snow, trickled from beneath the door at the man’s feet…
She touched the shoulder of the man leaning through the window.
“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll take it from here.”
The guy didn’t seem to hear her. More rescue vehicles were arriving on scene, sirens blaring.
She called more loudly. “Hey, I said we’ve got it!”
Finally he turned and gave her a quick assessment. She could swear she saw a touch of amusement in those blue-green eyes he flashed at her.
“Listen, lady, if I ease up on this,” he said smoothly, “this guy’ll bleed out.” Turning his back to her, he said to the driver, “Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you covered…
Angela squeezed her arm in beside the man-in-the-window’s shoulder and pressed her fingers against the driver’s throat. He was tachy. His skin cold and clammy.
Withdrawing her hand, she bent, unzipped her jump bag, and grabbed a handful of trauma dressings. “Listen, thanks for your help,” she said firmly to the man beside her, “but, we’ve got it now.” She ripped a couple of gauze packs open with her teeth and added, “You’d better get into a warm car yourself or we’ll be treating you next.” The guy’s wavy, mid-length hair and cotton-shirted shoulders were quickly becoming coated with snow. It was clear he wasn’t from around here given his lack of outerwear.
He cocked his head toward her again and this time there was no mistaking that amused look. Angela shot him her most official glare. Her hands, loaded with supplies, were poised, ready to do battle just as soon as he got the hell out of her way.
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly on her. He glanced back into the car to where Josie was squeezing in through the passenger window and settled his gaze once more on Angela. “If you’re sure you’re ready?”
Shit! Was this guy for real? “Out of my way!” she ordered.
“Fine, he’s all yours.”
Before she was barely aware of it, he had backed out of the window and was holding his bloodied hands up into the air.
With an irritated shake of her head, she shoved past him, head and hands diving through the open window. With the pressure released, blood soaked more quickly through the jacket. She eased the jacket aside to expose the gash and slammed the gauze dressing against the pulsing artery. In the slight gap that remained of the front passenger compartment, Josie ripped I.V. packages open and readied a needle to pump the guy with fluids.
The driver started to shake, shock taking hold.
“Hold on there, buddy,” she called to him, but he drifted into unconscious; his eyes rolled back in his head. The sweet smell of warm blood against the crisp frigid air burned Angela’s nostrils. She felt a chill snake up her own spine. She and Josie were locked in a battle against time and the cold—they had to keep this guy alive until Rescue could get him out of here.
Glancing out the window, she noted that Mr. Helpful was gone. Thank God!
“Where the hell are those Jaws?” she yelled at the officer.
It’d been a long night. She’d already lost one patient on her watch; she’d be damned if she’d lose another.
From Book 3 --> True Blue
He keyed in the code for his voice mail.
There were three messages. The first two were from Davis from earlier in the day. He bypassed those and then held his breath as a woman’s voice came on the line for the third message.
“Hi, Joey. It’s Meghan…Meghan McConnell. I know it’s been a long time, but your mom gave me your number. I hope it’s okay…”
Meghan’s voice was soft, yet clear—older, with an all-grown-up sound to it. He still recognized that way she had of turning her sentences up at the end, as if in expectation.
“Yeah, I know. It’s weird,” she went on. “We haven’t seen each other in twenty-four years, and then poof, out of the blue, I call you.” She gave a little nervous laugh, and suddenly he was transported to twenty-four years ago. He’d just turned fifteen that summer, Meghan was fourteen. Meghan…slim, long blond hair, running across the rocks along the lakeshore. That little laugh when he chased her. The happiness that always seemed to be in her eyes. Meghan, his first love.
“I see you’ve done well for yourself,” she went on. “You’re a real hot shot on the police force now. That’s great. As a matter of fact, I’m counting on that.” There was a brief pause before she went on. “Joey, I was hoping you would give me a call. There is something I need your help with.
“You’ve got my number. When you get a chance, please call me. Thanks. Oh, and Joey, make it soon.”
He felt a nervous stirring deep inside him. The last time he’d seen Meghan, she was waving goodbye out of the rear window of her mom’s car as they drove away down the street after her dad was killed. The happiness was gone, replaced by a terrible, quiet sadness. Word was she and her mom had settled in Arizona. After that, he’d always imagined Meghan riding her horses, with her long blond hair bouncing out behind her in the wind. Meghan was his first kiss—his first real kiss—but their budding romance had been cut short when her dad was killed and her mother decided to leave town. It had hurt like hell when she left.
He swallowed hard before listening to the message again. She sounded…what? Concerned? Nervous? Jittery? Well, that was understandable, especially if she had already caught wind of the robbery and Detective Beattie’s death. And who could blame her? But his mother had said she’d asked for his number two days earlier. Why had she waited until today to call? And what was that bit about the police department? Was she in some kind of trouble?
Whatever it was, he reasoned, it was too late to call her now. It would have to wait until morning.
He slipped the cell phone into his pocket and started the car.
Susan grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and received her Bachelor of Arts Degree from Columbia College, Missouri with an emphasis in creative writing.She penned her first melodrama in fifth grade for a Girl Scout Drama badge. Complete with hero, heroine, and dastardly villain, it wasn’t so very different, really, than the romantic suspense she writes now.
“I love writing romantic suspense because it allows me to combine a sexy, passionate love story with a gritty suspense tale—in my opinion, the best of both worlds.It also allows me to express my appreciation for the outdoors in the setting that I recreate on the page.”
When she is not sketching characters, you might find Susan on the golf course working on her handicap, or traveling around the country seeking out new settings for her novels with her husband and empty nest puppies, Ginger and Nikute.
To read more about Susan’s novels and the writing life, please visit her website/blog at www.susanrae.com