Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Sneak Peek!!! A Match Made in Mystery

Only a couple of days until the release of A MATCH MADE IN MYSTERY the second Matchmaker Mystery.

Here's a sneak peak of the heroine, Amy, in action:

The rain beat relentlessly on her umbrella and she wished shed worn a raincoat. Her purse, which contained the twenty year-old note, hung heavily on her shoulder, its weight almost too much to bear, despite the fact shed only added the one piece of paper to its usual contents.
She couldnt do it. Not today. Hadnt Mr. Leeves said he was delivering the envelope six months early? Maybe she was supposed to wait until then to find out what its contents meant.
She was still in mourning over the loss of Bea. She didnt need to invite even more stress into her life.
This didnt feel right. She had to go home.
Turning to head back to the bus stop, she caught a flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye. She tilted her umbrella to get a better look.
An older woman and a young man were engaged in a tug-of-war over the womans pocketbook.
Hey! Amy yelled, instinctively changing course to help the old lady. Stop that!
The strap on the pocketbook snapped, sending the woman tumbling backward to the ground and leaving the thief holding the bag. Standing over the woman, the thief rifled through its contents.
Dropping her umbrella, Amy fumbled in her bag for her pepper spray, as she broke into a run toward the fallen woman. Get away from her. Get away.
The thief looked right at her as she stumbled to a stop in front of him, a cold malevolence gleaming in his gaze.
Give it back to her, Amy demanded, pepper spray in one hand, the handle of her own purse in the other.
A superior sneer spread across his face. You gonna make me?
Amy studied his face and neck taking a mental inventory. No tattoos probably meant he wasnt with a gang. No visible scars meant he wasnt much for violence. He probably only preyed on little old ladies.
Give it back to her, Amy repeated in a measured tone, tightening her grip on the strap of her own purse.
Or what? Whos gonna make me? You or Grandma? He looked down at the fallen woman and blew her a kiss.
Amy swung.
Her purse, which contained three books, was heavy. It arced through the air and caught Mr. Tough Guy squarely in the face.
Crying out in pain, he dropped the stolen pocketbook, as he cradled his nose in his hands. Blood gushed.
Amy swung her purse again, catching him in shoulder with a resounding thud. The blow knocked him to her knees.
She moved in for the kill.
You bitch! he screamed, dropping his hands from his bloodied face. You broke my nose.
She sprayed the pepper spray into his eyes.
He screamed.
She scooped up the stolen pocketbook.
Without taking her eyes off him, Amy bent to help the old woman to her feet. Are you hurt?
Only my pride, dear, she murmured.

I bet yours isnt nearly as dented as his.  Wrapping an arm around the frail womans shoulders, Amy heaved her to her feet as the thief stumbled away.