Sneak Peak Sunday: A Hero's Spark

Good afternoon!

My release of the third and final book in my Wicked Women series will soon be upon us so I wanted to make an announcement before "A Hero's Spark" actually hits the web.

I will be pulling all of my other work from other sites and offering it exclusively on Amazon.

This is a marketing strategy I'm trying based on a couple things I've noticed:  1) I haven't sold anything to a Nook reader in more than a year.  2)  Sony just closed it's e-reader store. 3)  Other authors I know have done this and been able to make Amazon Kindle Select work to their advantage.

The truth of the matter is, while I write to tell stories, I need people to actually read those stories, and right now having my books available everywhere doesn't seem to get reaching anyone.

If you are a Nook user, you can still purchase all my novels by clicking here.  If you want the Elsie books, you can purchase those by clicking here.  This change will happen very soon, possibly in the next couple days.

Meanwhile, "A Hero's Spark" is happening this week.  To get you excited for the release, I'm sharing a tiny bit with you today!  Enjoy!

“What is your deal?” Mira stopped playing and stared at him. “You are really off beat today and not in a good way.”

            “Yeah, well, I sound like you look.” Collier wanted to bite back the words immediately. It was clear Mira had lost more weight in spite of their nightly trips to Dave’s for burgers and cheese fries. While she’d always been thin, she’d always seemed vibrant, like some internal furnace burned hot. Today, Collier noticed, she shivered even though she was wrapped in a turtleneck, a sweatshirt, and a heavy cardigan sweater. There were dark rings under her eyes.

            “My one bad hair day is not going to ruin this chance for me. But, your weak excuse for talent will, so either use whatever drama you’ve got rolling in your head to finish this song, or push it out of the way.”

            Her argumentative tone irritated him. “You’d be the one who knows about drama. You create plenty for yourself.”

            She put her guitar in the case. “And now we’re done.”

            Collier shook his head, weeks of pent animosity bubbling to the surface. “Sure, go ahead. Run away like you always do. You pretend to be grown up, but then you run away any time anyone confronts you.”

            Mira closed the guitar case and hoisted it off the floor. The effort, Collier noted, was a mighty one, as if the guitar weighed more than she did. “I don’t have to listen to this from someone who’s never had to live in the real world.”

            “Like you know anything about me.”

            Mira’s laugh was short, and mocking. “Please. You weren’t in Rock Harbor ten days before everyone knew everything about you. And now here you are, playing the part of a struggling musician, cooking for Dave a couple nights a week, looking all artsy and sad.”

            “And what’s wrong with any of that?”

            “It’s crap. It’s not true.” She rested the case on the floor and leaned against the piano.

            “How would you figure that?”

            “Really? We’re going to do this now?” She gave him an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. You’ve got a sob story about how your world fell in on you,” her eyes flashed with fury, “and it’s all bull because reality is you have a rich uncle who is tight with Shara. Your life is a golden ticket and you’re too busy wallowing in some misery you made up to acknowledge what a freaking gift your life is compared to most people.”

            Collier slammed the piano cover closed and swung a leg over the bench to face her. “Oh, really? You’re one to talk. You grew up in the biggest house in town, and then you moved to a state senator’s house. Next I hear you’ll be riding your sister’s checkbook to the governor’s mansion. I’m pretending? You’re a twenty-eight-year old spoiled brat pretending you have so much to overcome when what you’ve managed to do every time someone challenges you to be better is beat them over the head with your silver spoon.”

            “You don’t get to judge me.” Mira’s eyes narrowed as she set her jaw. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

            “Oh, no, Princess, you started this, we’re going to finish it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I have a rich uncle. He’s been nothing more than a Christmas card for the last ten years. The only reason I went to him this summer is because I was left flat broke a thousand miles from home and I needed a place to crash.” He took a breath and waited for her to respond. Mira’s face remained stony still but her eyes flared.

 Collier couldn’t stop himself. “Beyond that I’ve worked my whole life and lived on what I earn. Meanwhile, you could be really great, but prefer moping around, acting the part of the angry, misunderstood Goth chick. You’ve got talent, but you’d rather assault your audience because they aren’t cool enough to ‘get’ you. You pick up guys in some pathetic attempt to give yourself a bad girl image.”

“Shut up, Collier. I’m serious.”

Collier took her words and tone more as a challenge than a warning. “So, why not me, Mira, huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you leave Dave’s with a guy now and again. You’re not all that selective. Why not me?” He stood and took a step toward her.

She tensed, a predator ready for the kill. “Maybe you’re not man enough for me.” Her faced glowed in conquest. “Maybe I’m not interested in standing in for that ghost you won’t let go.”

Collier took another step. He stood inches from her, close enough to feel her icy tension. “What would you know about my ghosts?” He forced his words out though his throat tightened.

“I know you’re freaking out because you have to go back to Nashville. You don’t want to because there’s some woman there who rejected you.” She returned his glare. “You want to talk about waste of talent? I might get a little wild, but at least I feel!” She made a fist and pounded a spot over her heart. “I feel. I react. That’s what humans do. You’re frozen. You’re frozen and you can’t function because of some bitch who doesn’t want you.”

“Shut your mouth!” Collier leaned in, his arms braced on either side of her. He leaned closer, desire crackled and sparked between them. “You don’t have any of the qualities she has.”

Mira tipped her head to whisper directly into his ear. “I must have something, though, Collier, because you’re here with me, not with her.”

For a heartbeat, Collier locked his gaze with hers, a toxic mix of rage and desire coursing through him. “You’ve got nothing but bad attitude and tattoos, and you wear them both like some kind of armor.” Collier grabbed her arm and shoved up the multiple sleeves. He stared at the exposed skin, stunned. Shooting a glance at her face, Collier saw the tears well up in her eyes, though her face remained frozen. “Mira, what the hell?”

            She yanked her arm away and jerked her sleeves down. “You have no idea what real problems are. You think you’re so wonderful because you survived a break up. And it wasn’t even a real break up it was a break up all in your head. How about if you just live your little romantic drama and leave real life to people who have real shit going on?”

            With that, she shoved past him and grabbed her guitar case. She stormed out of the studio, the door slamming behind her. Collier stared at the space she had just occupied, as if she were still standing there.

            Just how much weight had she lost? Collier couldn’t shut out the image of her arm, her skin almost translucent, her veins obvious, giving her tightly stretched skin a bluish quality. Her hands, always slender and delicate, had a glass-like quality to them. Her whole arm was thin enough to snap with little force.

            And then there were the scars.  Like blank measures on a sheet of music, thin red lines in varying degrees of healing circled her pale skin. It was clear to him she hadn’t eaten or slept well in a long time, and now, he was faced with the evidence she was also hurting herself.

            Anger faded to concern for a moment and he wondered if he should follow her. Then Mira’s words about his feelings for Izzy echoed and his anger returned. She can go wallow in her own problems all by herself.

            He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The anger left completely, leaving him weak and remorseful. He put on his coat and headed for the door.

Sneak Peak Sunday! Lies in Chance

Good morning!

Well with the flurry of work I'm doing on a four story romance collection based on the four "couples" in the novel "Lies in Chance", I figured I would share a bit more of the novel with you.

By the way, you can purchase either Lies in Chance or the first short story from the collection, Love is Elementary, on amazon by clicking here! (Print or Kindle versions.)

OR if you prefer, and you read your books on something OTHER than a Kindle, you can purchase ALL my books on Smashwords by clicking here!


Meanwhile, enjoy this bit of fiction!

26: RICHARD

Richard Bennett leaned over against the glass of the window and closed his eyes. “Are you sure it’s her?”

“No, Mr. Bennett. That’s why we called you.” A short, barrel-chested detective offered him a Styrofoam cup filled with bitter smelling coffee.

Richard waved off the coffee and looked over his shoulder at Jennifer. She sat quietly in the corner, trying her best not to attract attention a feat, he knew, that was almost impossible for the six foot tall red head with a spectacular body.

Focus, Bennett. Focus on what you have to do here.

“Okay, Detective. I’m ready.”

The detective tapped on the glass and the coroner pulled back the glass. On the table, a foot away from the glass, was a body covered with a white sheet. Swallowing hard, Richard nodded. This time the coroner pulled back the sheet.

The body wasn’t human, couldn’t be human. Every inch was bloated, gray and filthy. Bile bubbled up in Richard’s throat.

“Mr. Bennett? Is that her? Is that your fiancé?”

Richard took a deep breath and looked at the mass on the table again. This just needs to be over. It needs to be over now. He looked closely, studying the repulsive figure. “Yes, yes it is. It’s Shara.”

The detective nodded to the coroner, who covered the body with the sheet again. “Thank you, Mr. Bennett. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Yes, thank you, Detective.” Richard looked past the man’s shoulder to Jennifer, who remained still in the corner, but the energy around her was charged, energetic. She seemed coiled, ready to spring. Her ice green eyes fairly glowed in the dim light of the room.

At last. It’s over. Time for me to move on.

 

 

27: SHARA

“What’s New Ear’s Eve?” Emma barely got the words out before a yawn split her tiny face wide open.

It was nearly eleven, but Shara was having so much fun with the kids, she lost track of time until Nate fell asleep in the middle of a rousing round of the Memory game. Drew, Joanna, indeed the better part of Rock Harbor’s entire population was over at the RHCS gym for its big New Year’s Eve party. The lights from the parking lot twinkled through the Shepaski’s front window.

“New Year’s Eve is the last night of the year.” She tugged Emma’s pajama top over the little girl’s head. “It’s the night that we all look back, think about the last year, and promise ourselves to make the next year a better one. A fresh start.”

“Like a do over?”

“Yes, like a do over,” Shara said with a smile. “Now, get into that bed. If your mommy finds out I let you guys stay up this late, I’ll be looking for a do over!”

“G’night-Bethany-I-love-you,” the girl mumbled sleepily.

Walking down the stairs to the family room, Shara paused at the wall of family pictures. Maybe that’s why I’m here. Maybe Rock Harbor is my do over.

 

 

28: BRYAN

Bryan pulled into the Shepaski driveway, too engrossed in the radio news report to turn off the Jeep.

“Wisconsin’s number one mystery of the year has been solved. The body of Shara Brandt, the young woman wanted in connection with the murder of businesswoman Lydia Brandt, was found today in the Rock River just outside of Watertown in Jefferson County. Authorities received an emergency call just after noon today from a local man who discovered the body frozen in the ice near a city park. Brandt’s fiancé, Richard Bennett, who identified the body at the Jefferson county medical examiner’s office had this to say:”

“Shara was loved by so many people. While we may never know what struggles she faced that horrible night, we do pray that Shara has found the peace that avoided her in life. Those of us that knew her and loved her, we now must go on without her.”

“Asshole.” Bryan leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling of the Jeep, remembering Richard’s sardonic expression peering over Jenny’s shoulder. Maybe he’s feeling misery and loss tonight. Good. He got out of the Jeep and the pale, sad face of young Shara Brandt crossed his mind. Everything money could buy wasn’t enough to save her.

As he stepped into the house, Bethany looked up from the book she was reading. “Oh, hi. I didn’t expect you here tonight. I thought you’d be over at the school, kickin’ it up with everyone else.”

He took in the image of her sitting, legs draped over the arm of Drew’s favorite chair, completely at ease and happy. In the week since their trip to Green Bay, Bryan found himself mentally returning to the park bench and the feel of her leaning against him, smiling and laughing in the cold night. How big of an idiot was I to ever think she was Shara Brandt? “Dances bore me. Besides, I wanted to give you this.” He handed her a package. Bryan liked the way her eyes sparkled as she took the box from him.

“Bryan, you didn’t have to-” She got out of the chair, staring at the package as if it were gold.

“I didn’t really. Just open it.”

Bethany opened the present with controlled excitement. “It’s a coat!” She held it up for his inspection.

“I figured you were tired of running around in Molly’s old puffy monster coat.”

Bethany held the dark denim coat and touched the pink corduroy collar and cuffs. “Bryan, it’s so pretty.” Her eyes glowed as she looked at him. “You shouldn’t have-”

“Well, I didn’t, exactly. I was cleaning out a closet yesterday, and I found this. I think I got it for my sister ages ago, but she moved to Hawaii. I never got around to doing anything with it. I saw it and thought you’d like it.”

“I love it!” She held the coat in one arm and pulled him close in a forceful one armed hug.

Her sudden burst of affection surprised and pleased him. “Well, okay, good.” He settled into the armchair and changed the subject. “So, what’s for snacks? Need any help getting the kids in bed?”

“Thanks, but I got them in hours ago.” She hung the coat on a peg near the door and grinned at him.

“Hours?” He arched an eyebrow at her.

“Fine. Minutes. And snacks are pretty thin, but I think there’s a little confetti pizza left. The kids ate most of everything.”

“Confetti pizza! I love that stuff! Let’s have at it.” She led him up to the dining area, but the last remnants of the dessert were hardly enough for him, and he pouted for a moment, just for her benefit. “It’s a good thing I brought provisions, then.” He ran back down the stairs and returned with a grocery bag. He pulled out several different bags of chips and crackers followed by a number of small containers of different dips.

“Let me guess. You mixed up Joanna’s dream shopping list with your own?” She giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

“Oh, fine. Ignore the fact that I went out into the wild and hunted and gathered all these provisions. You should have seen the grocery store. It was madness, madness I tell you!” He struck what he thought was a dramatic pose. “I had to bargain with some high school girl for this last bag of cheese puffs.”

She attempted a straight face. “So, you’re looking for an Academy Award for this performance, or are you going to open up that dip?”

“A true hero is never appreciated in his home town.” Bryan gave her an exaggerated sigh as he opened a container of dip and grinned at her. “You have no idea the idle chit chat and the starry eyes I had to endure to get these cheese puffs.”

“I thought you hated that whole ‘wounded hero’ thing. Or do you find it’s to your benefit sometimes?” Bethany’s laughter softened the teasing tone in her voice.

“Something like that.” He got up from the table and looked in the fridge for something to drink. “Somewhere out there, is a high school sophomore who is telling all of her giggling friends about her almost romantic encounter with Mr. Bryan Jacobs.”

“Lucky girl.” Bethany busied herself with the dips, but her tone held a note of something…else.

Was that sarcasm or jealousy? Bryan watched her tear into the bag of cheese puffs with the all the self-consciousness of a starving convict. I’m going with sarcasm “Hey, there’s a news story I’m following. Mind if I turn on the T. V.?”

“Go ahead.” Bethany followed him down to the family room, and settled on the couch, tucking her feet under her.

Bryan sat in the armchair, pointed the remote at the television and pushed the power button. In a blink Shara Brandt’s face stared at them. “Yeah, this is the story.”

She jumped up so quickly, she nearly knocked over the stack of magazines on the coffee table. “Oh, um, who is that?” She picked up the magazines and held them, hovering over the table.

Bryan looked at her, unsure of why she sounded like she was being strangled. “It’s that girl that shot her grandmother and fiancé and then disappeared.”

“Oh, yeah, the killer you thought I was, right?” She’d regained her composure and gave him a humorous look, although there was still a glimmer of anxiety in her eyes.

“Very nice. Remind me of my most idiotic moment.” He pointed to the television. “They found her body in the Rock River down in Jefferson County.”

“They did?” Still holding the magazines, she stared at the screen, her expression now unreadable.

“Yeah. Her fiancé identified the body. So I guess the case is closed. Poor kid. Would have been twenty-four next month.” He noticed that she kept slapping the pile of magazines against the coffee table. “I think those magazines are straightened up enough. Are you okay?”

Bethany gave him a blank look and set the magazines down. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m…I’m going to check on the kids, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Bryan watched her go and wanted to kick himself. Way to go, Jacobs. You don’t know what happened to her parents, why she was living with her grandfather. Knowing your luck, they probably all drowned in some freak family vacation thing. Idiot.

Sneak Peak Saturday! "Fresh Ice"

Good afternoon!

My inspiration muse seems to be taking the weekend off, which is really annoying because in the last two days I've chosen taking a nap and cleaning the bathrooms over writing.  While taking a nap is generally the thing I like to do best, cleaning the bathrooms...really?

But, I having gotten back into "Spark of a Hero" which is the novel I'm determined to wright by the end of November and get released by the time you're all opening your shiny new Kindles and Nooks under the tree.

To that end, I had to delve into Lies in Chance and Fresh Ice since ""Spark" draws characters and storylines from both those books and is actually built around Collier James, who many of you might remember was Izzy Marks' best friend, and was deep in love with Izzy.  Well, Collier is getting his own novel with "Spark" and I thought I'd wet your whistle for him with this election from "Fresh Ice."  Enjoy!

Izzy found the rink without much trouble. What troubled her was how dilapidated it looked. She eased the car up the rutted drive to the ratty, cracked parking lot. There were few cars parked around the building.

“This is where you trained?”

Izzy shared Jenna’s doubt. “Yes, this is the place. I guess when Coach died, Collier sold it or something. Coach would hate how it looks.”

They got out of the car and walked into the cavernous building. Once inside, memories, good memories, flooded Izzy. The feeling was as powerful as the emptiness at her childhood home had been. Now I’m home.

On the ice, a few children, possibly stragglers from a recently ended birthday party, slid around on wobbly legs. Izzy led Jenna to the boards where they both leaned against the worn wood and stared at the children.

“So that’s how you started?”

Izzy shook her head. “No, I started out much younger. There were no parties here then, nothing like that. My parents put me into training on the ice and ballet classes off it. Every day, six days a week.”

“That sounds horrible.”

A tear welled in Izzy’s eye as she glanced toward the door that led to Coach’s office. She wiped her eyes and smiled at Jenna. “I loved it. I loved being here. This is where I belonged and I rarely felt I was missing out on a real life.”

“How could you not hate it?”

Izzy turned and leaned her back against the boards. “Well, let me put this into terms you can understand. Do you hate volleyball? All the hours of practice, the traveling, the aches and pains, do you hate any of that?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s how I was with skating.”

“But Mom, I still have a normal life. I hang out with friends, I go to school.”

Izzy nodded. “When you were young, we knew you were going to be an athlete. We agreed you’d have as normal a life as possible. It was one of the few things we agreed on.”

Jenna’s eyes darkened. “You two really had no business getting married, did you?”

Izzy shrugged. “After a few years we fell into a routine and I didn’t question it often. I wouldn’t let myself think about it. I had you, and you filled my life plenty.” She squinted up past the rows of bleaches to the top of the seats. “Is that Collier?”

Jenna followed Izzy’s line of sight. “Looks like it. What’s he doing here?”

“Guess I’ll go find out.” Izzy climbed the steps and met Collier halfway.

“I figured I’d find you here.” Collier spoke in a low voice.

“You knew. About Jason and the money, and how everything would have been okay if only I was an obedient child?”

Collier nodded. “I’m sorry, there’s no way I could just tell you that. You needed to hear it from them.”

“As far as I’m concerned, Coach was the only parent I needed anyway.”

“How’s Jenna handling it?”

Izzy glanced at her daughter, who’d returned her attention to the children on the ice. “She’s taking it like she takes everything, calmly, and in stride. We’ll be okay.”

Collier wrapped his arms around her. “You know I’m always here for you.”

Izzy melted into his comfortable embrace, her tension easing. “I know,” she murmured against his beating heart. Unbidden, the image of Quinn’s face after their kiss flashed through her mind. She stiffened.

“You okay?”

Izzy broke from his arms and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She looked around the arena. “So what’s the deal here, Col? What happened to the old place?”

Collier shrugged. “After Pop died, I couldn’t keep it up. I sold part ownership to a group who wanted to open the place to the public. You know, skating lessons, high school hockey games, birthday parties,” he nodded to the small group assembled at the concession stand. “I haven’t paid much attention. Obviously, it’s a bit worse for wear.”

“I’ll say.”

“Still, the ice is in good shape. Care to put on a bit of a show?” Collier’s eyes twinkled.

“Tempting. Very tempting.” The memory of Quinn’s hands on her waist warmed her, emboldened her. “But I don’t have any skates.”

“Skate rental is right there. Come on. I’d love to see you skate again.” He led her to the counter.

“Are you joining me?” She arched an eyebrow.

Collier laughed. “Not a chance. I haven’t put on skates since the day I quit.” He walked behind the counter and stared at the rows of skates. “Size seven, right?”

“Better make it six. I’m not wearing thick socks.”

Collier handed her the skates. She sat on a bench and started unlacing them. “Col, I think there’s something I should tell you.”

He sat next to her. “What’s that?”

“I agreed to do something the other day. I agreed to skate at a charity thing in the spring. The one you’re playing at.”

Collier nodded, his eyes narrowing. “I’m guessing your hockey player had something to do with this?”

“Apparently,” she focused her attention on the ratty laces of the old skates, “he knew who I was all along.”

“Not surprising. He doesn’t strike me as a guy who wouldn’t know the identity of every attractive woman in Nashville.”

“You’re upset.” She finished lacing the skates and looked at him. “Be honest.”

He helped her stand on the carpet and smiled. “I’m not surprised, and I’m definitely not excited at the prospect of my best girl spending quality time working up a routine for the guy, but I’m not upset.”

“Not for, the guy. With, the guy. I’m skating with Quinn at the event.”

Collier’s expression darkened. “You’re skating with him?”

Izzy stepped on the ice and waved at Jenna. “Yes. I am. Turns out, he’s a good skater, and he can throw decently.”

“So it’s decided.” There was a sense of defeat in Collier’s voice. “You’ve already started working with him.”

Izzy nodded. “I gave my word, so yeah, it’s decided. You should give him a chance, Col. You might like him.”

Collier shook his head, but said nothing for a beat. “Well, we should see what we’re working with, shouldn’t we? I think your old music is in Pop’s office. Want me to go find it?”

I guess I didn’t expect him to love the idea of Quinn skating with me. “That would be great.”

Collier disappeared into the dark hall beyond the ice. A few moments later, “I Won’t Hold you Back,” floated through the speakers high above the ice. Izzy closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and started to skate. The years melted away, and with it, the shabbiness of her surroundings, until all that was left was smooth, fresh ice, and a black sky broken only by a silver spotlight on her. She had no conscious thought, she never did when she skated. She just moved as if her body was the link between the ice and the music, and her movements created the light between both.

Too soon, the music was over. Thin applause from Jenna, and the few people behind the concession counter barely reached her.

Izzy leaned against the boards, out of breath and waited for Collier’s commentary. “So, what do you think?”

“I think you’re insane. You’ve been out of this for almost twenty years. You think you can do a four minute routine with a hockey player and not be laughed off the ice?”

Izzy looked at Collier. “So what am I doing wrong?”

“You? You’re perfect. Every element you do out there it’s like you’ve been skating every minute of every day.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

Collier shook his head. “You want my opinion? Dump the hockey player and skate a single.”

The old argument. “Col, we’re not going there.”

“Well it’s past time someone did. Pop always said you were better without a partner.”

“And my parents disagreed. Vehemently.”

“They paid my father to coach you and never listened to a word he said.” Collier’s face tightened. “Iz, think about this, because I know I have a million times over the years: If your parents had listened to my father, you and I might be living a very beautiful happily ever after.”

Izzy laughed, mostly because the earnest look on Collier’s face seemed comical. Then she realized he was serious, and she laughed harder, because the idea seemed even more comical. “How do you figure that?”

“I don’t want to go dredging up bad memories.”

Izzy waved a dismissive hand. “After what I heard today, why stop now?”

“Well since you asked; if you skated as a single, you wouldn’t have a partner. You wouldn’t have needed Jason. Jason wouldn’t have convinced you to sleep with him. You might have left skating at some point, but you wouldn’t have left Nashville. We would have stayed together long enough for me to prove to you that I’m an amazing romantic hero in spite of the fact that I don’t live on the ice.”

“I wouldn’t have Jenna.”

“Maybe you would. Maybe you’d have Jenna, only with lighter hair and my nose instead of Jason’s. The point I’m making, is that if you had a crumb of self confidence, you’d be practicing on wide open ice during the day, getting ready for an exhibition that would be aired on network television instead of trying to teach a muscle head how to throw you without doing any permanent damage.”

Izzy studied her friend. “You’ve been thinking about this a while, haven’t you?”

Collier nodded. “You came back, and I’m so thankful for that. And you’re skating again, which is awesome. But now I have to picture you skating with him.”

“He has a name.”

“Whatever. You have too much talent to waste trying to teach the unteachable.”

Izzy closed her eyes, recalling the strength of Quinn’s hands on her waist. “You haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, Col.”

“Maybe not. But I’ll bet he doesn’t disagree with me.” Collier nodded to the upper ring of seats.

Izzy looked over her shoulder. There, in the shadows, was Quinn. She blinked, and he was gone. An overwhelming sense of panic gripped her, and she started racing off the ice and up the stairs.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Jenna called from the other side of the ice.

“Izzy, you can’t run in those crappy skates. You’ll break something.”

“Watch me!” Izzy ran up the stairs and out the main door. From where she stood, she could see the entire parking lot, but saw nothing of Quinn or his car. Just a few scattered cars, the last of the birthday partiers inside. “Quinn!” She shouted through the cold air.

“What?” He emerged from the door behind her.

“Quinn!” She threw herself into his arms, careful to keep her feet on the wood planks beneath them.

“Wow…if I thought I’d get this reaction, I wouldn’t have stopped at the concession stand for a candy bar.”

His arms were warm around her, secure. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

She eased an inch away from his chest. “Well, for what Collier said.”

“Collier? Oh, wait, Singer Guy? He said something about me?”

Izzy studied Quinn’s face. “You know he’s a singer?”

Quinn smiled. “I know a lot of things, Miss Izzy.”

“How did you know I would be here?”

Quinn looked the tiniest bit guilty. “I stopped and talked to Cat who said you were off to see your parents. I figured that wouldn’t end well, and that you’d come someplace where you really felt good about yourself. So I thought I’d try your old training facility. I didn’t expect to see you in skates, but then I also didn’t expect a full snack bar either. So it’s a win for me.” He bit into the candy bar.

“Well I am glad you’re here. It’s about time you and Collier met.”

“I don’t think I need to do that.”

Izzy took his hand. “Quinn, if you and I are going to skate together, we are going to need some outside help. And that is going to include some coaching. And since my coach is no longer with us, Collier is the next best thing…he’s Coach’s son and he knows a lot about skating.”

“And about you.”

Izzy turned on him. “You two are going to get along, right?”

Quinn took another bite and chewed slowly. “I can’t promise anything.”

“Quinn!”

“Fine. Fine. I promise to get along.”

Izzy led him to the rink where Collier and Jenna were deep in conversation.

“Collier, there’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”

Collier looked over his shoulder at Quinn. “Hello, Hockey Head.”

“Hello, Singer Guy.”

“Guys!”

Quinn’s hand tightened around hers. “Come on Izzy, you can’t expect us to play nicely right out of the box. Give us a few minutes.”

“You know, like dogs,” Jenna added with a grin.

Izzy wanted to turn the hose on both of them. “Fine whatever. Look, Quinn, we need a coach, and Collier can give us a lot of pointers. So go get some skates.”

“Do you need some cash, Quinn? I know you retired guys don’t always have a lot of cash on you.”

Jenna burst out laughing, but Izzy was horrified. Quinn went to get some skates, and Izzy glowered at her old friend. “Can’t you just be nice, for me?”

“Izzy, it’s too easy. Anyone else in the world, and you know I’d be nice. But Quinn Murray? Come on! There’s just too much material.”

“Well, wait until you see him skate.”

Collier’s grin widened. “You’re right. This could be fun. So much so, I think I’ll offer you my rink as a place to practice.”

Izzy beamed. “Do you mean it, Col?”

“They don’t have hockey skates in my size.” Quinn looked uncertain. “As for practicing here, I’m not sure.”

“Granted, it’s not NHL ice, but it was good enough to train a whole series of Olympic caliber skaters.” Collier glared at Quinn. “What, you’ll only skate at the Bridgestone Center?”

“No, nothing like that.” Quinn looked surprised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. I meant I didn’t know if it would conflict with your other, clearly thriving business ventures for the place.”

Collier followed Quinn’s line of sight to the now abandoned concession stand. He chuckled. “You got me there. Look, it would be perfect. It’s pretty much this dead all the time, except on Saturdays.”

“Oh it would be great to practice here!” Izzy couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Collier, you’re the best.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. She didn’t miss the wicked grin Collier fired at Quinn. Whatever, you two.

“Mom! Mom I was just sort of looking around this place and I saw the most amazing thing…” Jenna ran up to them, breathless and beaming.

“What’s that?”

“There are pictures of you all over the place. It’s so cool! You look so young!”

“Oh thank you. Yes, now that I’m ancient, it’s nice to see what I looked like in the Dark Ages.” She turned to Collier. “You never took down the pictures?”

Collier shrugged again. “I’m gone all the time. Clearly my business partners don’t give two craps about much besides the concession stand and the rental skates.”

“Well, whatever. Quinn, do you have your skates in the car?”

“Of course, but you know they’re hockey skates.”

Izzy waved her hand. “Go get them and let’s practice!”

Quinn studied the ice. “How about a pass or two with the Zamboni first?”

“No way Studs McHockey.” Collier held up his hand. “First show me what you’ve got. Then we’ll decide if you deserve fresh ice or not.”