by Sandy Marshall
About The Author
Sandra grew up in the mid-west in a small farming community where she belonged to 4-H. When she was thirteen, her family moved to, Lawrence, Kansas, the town where the University of Kansas thrived. After high school, she traveled to California to live with a friend and to find a job. She became very homesick and returned home.
She worked for a major airline for thirty-six years and did extensive travel during that period. It was a lovely time in her life working for a wonderful company. In 1999 she retired to write full time and worked seriously toward publication.
In 2008, she had her first book published, and then her second one in 2009. Shortly after her publisher closed their doors, and she immediately moved to a new publisher. She is still with the publisher and has had three books and a novella published with them. She has just contracted a short story with them titled Hitting Bottom, and is working on another short one.
About The Book
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Eirelander Publishing
Release Date: March 6, 2009
Dark revelations and secret love lead to personal resurrection.
Carolyn Madison didn’t kill her husband but didn’t mourn him either. The rapist deserved to die, or at least she thought so. Beneath a myriad of family secrets, Carolyn drags the skeletons out of the closet and in the arms of her true love, learns to love again.
Walt Tollhouse has pined for Carolyn since she was a shy seventeen-year-old. Little did he know Robert Dubois would steal her away, and then destroy the beautiful spirit he still loved? Beneath the guise of clean-up man, the martial arts instructor never pushes his battered love but gives her silent support she deserves.
He’s here. A spurt of anger slashed through her brain, the headache of a moment ago now screaming. She sped toward the entry where Robert stood, noting several ladies waved at him. Why would anyone be interested in a thieving, no-good drunk? Even though appearance wasn’t everything, his
excessive drinking had put lines on his face and added pounds to his belly. She wove her way around people while fury surged into her chest like acid at the memories of his deeds.
She saw that he’d spied her and he turned away. He’d run, of course. Usually, since their divorce, she avoided him, so he had to know she was onto him. She pushed through the exit. He wouldn’t get away. She would let him know she’d learned of his devious plan in time to foil him.
“Darn it.” She tottered on stilettos and grabbed the rail just in time to prevent a tumble onto the bridge of wooden planks between the boat and land. Panic seized her, and she wondered if she was doing the right thing by confronting Robert; he had a history of violence.
Yes, the time had come for her to beat down her fears. She glanced ahead at the tree-lined and dimly lit parking lot. The shadows scared her, but she still followed him and reached his assigned spot before he could pull away.
She banged on the window. “Robert. Stop! I want to talk to you now. Be a man for once.” A man? Not likely. He was a rat; a big fat rodent, who sniffed and hunted for his next female victim. The motor revved and tires squealed. She jumped back when the black BMW’s back fender grazed her hip.
“You’re despicable, Robert!” She banged her hand down on the fender of the car next to her.