Have you purchased a copy of Purgatory? This release is book two in the Colorado series. If you enjoyed the suspense and the sweet romance in An Impostor in Town you will love Purgatory!
Here's the blurb...
Five years ago, a tragic accident robbed Chris Smith of a normal life. Left with only a jagged scar, a set of wedding rings, and bits of memory—smells, sounds, and fleeting feelings—she copes with the loss of her identity. Amnesia has made her life a living purgatory…until she meets Steve West.
Steve’s construction company is remodeling the ski lifts in Purgatory, Colorado. However looking at Chris is seeing the face of his deceased wife. Now the truths he’d been forced to believe have him searching for answers.
Murder, deception and missing ransom money. Can Steve protect Chris…and prove she’s the wife he never believed dead before the killer tries again?
Here's a small excerpt...
She took one hesitant step backward toward the door, her feet crunching glass. She stopped and listened. Was that a bump? Taking another step toward the safety of her vehicle, her hand reached behind her for the still open door, anticipating her grip on the doorknob.
From down the hall, a dog scampered into the room and ran past her out the door. The scream she’d been suppressing erupted from her mouth. Her flattened hand slammed against her chest, attempting to still the erratic rhythm of her racing heart.
She shook her shoulders to relieve the tension. “Chris, get a grip. It was just a dog.”
She searched for the phone in the rubble, intending to call Brian. There it lay, under a pillow. As her hand reached for her lifeline, the jarring ringtone shattered the quiet in the house. She backed away from it. Her heart pumping even harder. It continued to jangle, refusing to allow her the right to ignore its insistent clamor.
She answered before its summons could assault her taut nerves again.
“Did you like the gift I left for you?” The creepy, distorted voice of her tormentor rasped his question. She surveyed her destroyed living room. The voice had been in her house. A shudder began at her tailbone and slipped up her backbone, one disk at a time.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want what’s mine.”
Her hands clenched around the receiver, her knuckles turning white with the strain. “I don’t have anything of yours,” she screamed into the tiny hole in the receiver. Anything of remote value remained here, still in her possession.
As far as she could tell, he’d taken nothing with him. He didn’t want her stuff. She uncurled her fingers and stared at the rings still clutched in her other hand. Surely, he didn’t want her rings. Why would he want them? What good were they to him?
“Sure you do. And you’re going to give it to me.” It not them. He didn’t want the rings. But then…what did he want?
The man had slipped, forgetting to disguise his voice. She recognized the voice. From where? From when? Recently? Before the accident?