Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Author Awards day!

Yes I can't help but be excited. This year my novel Betraying Chase was nominated for Champagne Books' novel of the year! I'm totally excited and can't wait for the awards ceremony tonight!



Tonight is like the Oscars of Champagne Books and I plan on "walking" the red carpet. My gown and accesories are all chosen and I'm totally ready to get into the cyberswing of things.

Here is a little excerpt from the first chapter of Betraying Chase:

A hail of bullets rained down. “Get down!” Chase Willet shouted. One penetrated the windshield as he and his partner Justice Bernard ducked down in the seat. “Damn. I guess Badger and his men don’t like us sniffing around.”
“Understatement.” Justice jammed the car into reverse and squealed the tires. Chase leaned up to get a look out the window. Another gunshot ripped through the air and he felt the burn in his cheek. “Son of a bitch. That hurt!” He put his fingers on the wound. “Little bastard hit me,” he muttered as he stared at the blood on his fingertips. The car lurched as Justice slammed it into park.
Sirens filled the air and soon Mickey Flannery, Bobby del Gado, and a host of other agents surrounded them.
Chase wasted no time diving out of the car and racing into the crowd of dispersing thugs.
He threw himself at one of the runners. They toppled into a stack of cartons. His spine connected with the corner of a box and he winced against the contact. “Damn,” he hissed as he rolled over and the stack beneath him collapsed beneath his weight. Chase rolled onto a knee and shoved up.
Just a few inches away, the kid’s foot slipped and he dropped between a stack of boxes. They crumbled on top of him in a heap. Chase grabbed empty cartons and tossed them to dig the scumbag out. Just as he moved the last box a fist came flying from the opening, Chase jerked out of the path. “Gotcha,” he shouted as he gripped the junkie’s wrist and pulled him out of the trash pile.
The kid pivoted on his heel and jerked up a foot catching Chase in the knee then squirmed out of his grasp.
There wasn’t a backward look as he sprinted off down the alley.
Chase launched himself into another tackle and grabbed the kid at the knees. They hit the pavement with a hard slam that shook Chase to the core. Sweat poured off his face and dripped down through the back of his shirt. He panted hard for breath, moved up and jabbed his knee in the kid’s spine. “Little shit. Stay down.”
The kid finally stopped struggling and Chase secured his flexicuffs in place, then keeping hold of the ties, pulled up to his feet dragging the kid with him. At the car, Chase gave the kid a less than gentle shove inside.
Justice joined them, hauling a second perp. “I hate it when they run,” he groused as the second kid was shoved into the back seat next to his friend.
“Yeah, but look at it this way, we won’t have to hit the gym for a while.”
“I don’t need the gym anyway,” Justice laughed.
Chase slammed the door and paced back through the cars. Most of the gang had been rounded up. He peered into each car, but there was no sign of Badger. Chase stalked back to Justice and Mickey. “He got away,” he growled.
“How’d we let him get away?”
“Are you sure?” Mickey turned and did a quick scan of the vehicles. “Maybe he’s in one of the other cars.”
“Didn’t see Badger,” Bobby said as he walked up to join them.
“Damn.”
Badger was a jack of all junkies, a trucker, dealer, runner, and errand boy. He wouldn’t have been hard to roll.
He just might’ve led them to the proof they needed to bring down Ramiro Gonzalo Sancho Rivera, the largest drug lord in the Americas.
Rivera had been able to pass himself off as a law abiding antiquities importer. In reality, the only thing he imported was death and there was nothing they could find to prove it.
Unfortunately, every time they thought they had someone to flip, the possible snitch turned up dead or disappeared completely. Rivera made sure his tracks were covered.
“He can’t go far.” Mickey tried to sound positive.
“Hey, you ought to have that cheek looked at,” Justice said.
Chase laid fingers against it. No pain, but plenty of blood. He shrugged. “Just a flesh wound.”
Chase and Justice drove back to the field office and went up to their floor. There was paperwork to fill out and perps to question. Chase’s face burned and he reached up at the wound. A bit of blood still trickled down his cheek.
“You need to get that cleaned up, at least. Might need stitches.”
“Brandy’s scratched me deeper than this before.”
Justice grinned and shoved Chase. “Not a visual I’d like to have, thanks.”
“I bet Callye—” Chase slapped his lips shut. It was still a tender subject. Callye, Justice’s wife, was still recovering from her ordeal. She’d been kidnapped by a mid-range dealer and the stuff she’d gone through… He didn’t know all the details. He didn’t want to know. Imagining was enough to give him chills. “Sorry.”
“No worries.” Justice sniffed. “Get to the can and wash up,” he ordered as the elevator doors slid open.
Justice was the unit leader. They worked as a single machine but when he used that tone, the men knew not to push. Chase followed and when Justice veered off to one of the glass interview rooms, he went on down the hall to the bathroom.
The reflection in the mirror was a bit of a surprise. The bullet hadn’t really felt like it hit that deep. He grabbed a handful of paper towels, soaked it in warm water and washed off his face. The skin throbbed and his cheek burned. He pressed the wet paper into it, waiting until it cooled down.
He walked two fingers along the gash. Not that bad.
There was a first aid kit in the file cabinet by his desk. He’d grab some butterfly strips and presto, good as new.
The glass-walled interview rooms lined the hall. Each held one of the suspects picked up from the bust. He looked in at the kid he’d dealt with and stopped short. It really was a kid. He couldn’t be more than thirteen. Damn. Chase felt his blood boil. This kid’s life was over before he got to live it.
He probably wouldn’t make it to see eighteen. If the poison didn’t get him then a rival probably would.
Rivera and all his kind had to be stopped. This was crap. They hooked school kids who in turn robbed shops, or were pimped out for payment. Some had been known to attack the elderly just for enough cash to cover their next score. It made him sick. Rivera was the one they needed to take out. Now if only the evidence would miraculously appear.
~ * ~
Brandy Montgomery grabbed the briefcase from the back of her Mini Cooper and headed inside the house. Chase would be home soon; she had to make it look like she’d actually gone to work.
She pulled out the chair in the computer cubby and flipped on the machine. The file containing the threads for the phantom web design opened and she was staring into the screen when Chase stepped in the front door.
“Honey I’m home.” There was laughter in his voice.
That joke was getting old. Real old. “I’m back here, dear,” she called.
He kissed the top of her head and ran his hands down her shoulders. “How was your day?”
She sighed. “The file got corrupted and I have to go through this damn thing strand by strand to find the break.”
He massaged her shoulders. “Can you fix it?”
“I hope so. How was your day?”
“Not bad. A little hairy, but not bad.”
“Hairy?” She pushed up from the seat and turned to face him. “Oh Chase, your face. Are you all right? Let me get some aspirin.” If her concern sounded so convincing in her ears she could only imagine how Chase heard it.
“Stop fretting. I’m fine. Just a scratch.” He pulled her close.
His arms were so warm and comforting. It wIt was paradise. Stop it. Remember what you’re here for. “Are you hungry?”
“Hmm.” He tilted her face up and pressed his lips to hers then traced the outline with his tongue.
Heat licked at her body. Damn, the man could melt the icecaps in Antarctica. She opened her mouth and urged his tongue inside. He was a hell of a kisser and an even better lover. Lover? Didn’t that imply emotional connection? Sex. That was it. She pulled back. “I asked a question.”
“I’m answering.” He grinned and captured her lips again.
She sagged against him. This was a whole new definition of job perk. “What are you waiting for?” She took his hand and led him down the hall to their bedroom. His hands pulled at her clothes. His hungry mouth covered hers.
Before she could blink, the bed was behind her knees and he gently pressed her into the mattress.
His hands skimmed down her body and then up her thighs. Desire pulsated through her and she felt him against her pelvis. She shifted and reached for the condom in the nightstand. No sense in taking any chances.

I hope you'll join us for the celebration! The festivity information is as follows:


Please join the Champagne authors' for their annual awards night on Tues, April 20 at 9 pm EDT. This is the link http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/ctr_chat.htm where the awards will be held. Hope to see all of you there. Guests will receive a prize.

HUGZ!
Donica Covey

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