A
Candle for Nick
by Lorna Michaels
Silhouette Special Edition ~ November 2006
When they arrived for their appointment with Dr. Sanders, Mallory said, “Have you found Nick a doctor in Houston?”“Yes, he’s young–well, young by my standards–but he’s highly regarded.”
“That’s good to hear.” Mallory reached into her purse for the notebook and pen she’d brought. “What’s his name?”
“Berger. Dr. Kent Berger.”
“Berg...” The pen dropped out of her hand. With the other hand she grasped the arm of the couch. Surely she’d heard wrong. “Wh...who?”
The doctor bent to retrieve the pen. “Kent Berger. Everyone I spoke to says he has a superb reputation. I’m putting you in capable hands.”
Mallory bit the inside of her lip and suppressed the impulse to laugh hysterically. Kent Berger. She’d buried that name deep inside, never in eleven years allowed herself to speak it or even think it.
Dr. Sanders glanced at her sharply. “Is something wrong?”
Mallory shook her head. “I, um, just thought you’d have several names.
Dr. Sanders frowned. “You asked for the best. From what I hear, Berger is the best.” He glanced down at the trembling hands she hadn’t thought to conceal. “Mallory, if something makes you uncomfortable about seeing this man, say so and make a change now.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Do you know him?”
“N...no,” she said. “For a minute I thought the name sounded familiar, but...but I’m sure I was wrong.” She clasped her hands together and fought to control her breathing.
She name was all too familiar. She knew him all too well. Kent Berger. Nick’s...father.
Years had passed since she’d thought of him as the parent of her child. And now–
There couldn’t be a worse time to face Kent Berger again.
Excerpt from A Candle for Nick
Copyright 2006, Thelma Zirkelbach
Silhouette Special Edition
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Stranger
in Her Arms
Romantic Suspense by Lorna Michaels
Silhouette Intimate Moments ~ February 2005
A man stood beside the door. Tall and lean, he was disheveled and soaked from the rain. He was a stranger. She didn't open her door to strangers, storm or no storm.If she'd met him here before, she'd have remembered him. He had the kind of face a woman would notice. Eyes as gray as the stormy skies, a firm, sensuous mouth above a square jaw, and the hint of a cleft in his chin.
He punched the doorbell again. Reaching up to be sure the dead bolt lock was fastened, she called, "Yes?"
" Sorry to bother you," he said, "but I need to use the phone."
She wasn't about to fall for that ploy. He might be dangerously handsome, but on the other hand, he could be just plain dangerous. "Give me the number and I'll call.”
" I don't know it. I've had an accident, and I..." He grimaced, and she heard him draw in a sharp breath.
Nervously, she chewed on her lip. What should she do? Send the stranger back into the storm? Cruel. Let him in? Foolish.
The gun." Just a minute," she called and darted into the bedroom. She pulled her revolver out of the dresser drawer and returned to the door. Thanks to her course, she knew how to use the gun and if the guy tried any funny stuff, she would. More confident now, she turned the dead bolt. The man straightened, waited.
Christy opened the door.
He came inside and halted, staring at the gun. Slowly, he raised his arms. "I won't hurt you."" No, you won’t." She gestured for him to walk ahead of her. "The phone's that way.”
" Thanks. I'll make a call and then..." He staggered forward. "...and then...I'll be...on...my..."
He fell heavily against the side of a chair, dislodging a lamp from the table beside it. The lamp crashed to the floor and broke, but Christy hardly noticed. Her eyes were on the man. He'd landed on his stomach, and she could see an ugly wound on the back of his head. His hair was matted with blood, he lay spread-eagled on her living room floor, and he didn't move.
Excerpt from Stranger in Her Arms
Copyright 2005, Thelma Zirkelbach
Silhouette Intimate Moments
For More Romance Information
Visit eHarlequin.com
Return to Lorna's Main Page or read another excerpt...
The Truth About Elyssa
Romantic Suspense by Lorna Michaels
Silhouette Intimate Moments ~ December 2001
PrologueElyssa Jarmon glanced over her shoulder as her friend Randy Barber's Toyota Camry maneuvered through the rain-slick streets of Indianapolis. He turned left, and the car behind them followed. The gleam of its headlights cut through the darkness.
Elyssa chuckled. "I've been watching too many cops shows."
"One of the hazards of working in television," Randy said. "If you're not on screen, you're in front of it."
"I'm not kidding," Elyssa continued. "I could swear someone's tailing us."
Randy glanced at her sharply. "What makes you think so?"
"The same car's been behind us since we left the TV station. His right headlight's flickering. I"m a good reporter. I notice things like that."
"Look back. Is it a black Chevy?"
Alarmed, Elyssa stared at her friend. Was she imagining things, or had Randy turned pale? "What's going on?"
"Just check," he snapped.
Elyssa squinted through the back window. Rain fell harder now, impeding her view. "I...think so." She turned back, then gasped as Randy suddenly swung into Eagle Creek Park.
"Did he follow?"
"No...yes. Here he comes." She tightened her seat belt. "What's going on, Randy?"
"Damn," he muttered. "I shouldn't have offered to drive you home. I don't want you involved in this."
"Involved in what?" She looked behind them. The Chevy was close now, its lights filling the back window.
"Investiga-"
Metal clanged against metal as the Chevy slammed into their rear end. Their car skidded, spun in a circle.
The Chevy hit them again. A scream tore from Elyssa's throat as they hurtled down an embankment. They seemed to tumble endlessly-rolling, pitching from side to side. Then suddenly, with a grinding thud, they stopped.
Elyssa opened her eyes. She was still buckled into her seat, but her right arm hung at an angle, and her head felt as if she'd been kicked by a mule. "Randy," she whispered. A thin stream dribbled out of her mouth. She licked her lip and tasted blood.
"Here." His voice was so faint she could barely hear it over the sound of the storm. Fighting against pain, she turned her head. Randy lay against the door, crushed by the caved-in side of the car.
Though her hands shook, Elyssa managed to unbuckle her seat belt. Forgetting her own pain, she crawled to Randy and touched his face. Her hand came away covered with blood. "You're hurt," she chocked. "I'll...I'll get help."
"Too late," he muttered. "Get...the book. It's..."
"Don't worry," she told him. "I'm calling 911." She spotted the cell phone on the floor and leaned down. It was broken. She'd have to get out of the car. "I'll find someone," she said. "Just hold on."
"No use," Randy whispered. "Tell Jenny...tell her...I...love her." He said nothing more.
"Randy," Elyssa begged, "don't die. Please." Frantically, she scrambled across the seat, shoved at the passenger door. It didn't budge. Her right arm was useless, but she turned, leaned her left shoulder against the door, and pushed with all her strength. Suddenly it gave and she toppled out.
She cried out with pain, then lay for a moment in a sodden heap, trying to see where she was. Half-way down the brush-covered slope. A small tree had stopped the car from plunging all the way to the bottom. She could crawl up, find help.
She pulled herself to her knees, stared down at the ground. Mud. Glass. And a black boot.
"Thank God," she breathed and looked up.
A man stood over her. He was tall and broad-shouldered. IN the rainy darkness she could just make out his features-fleshy lips, a slightly crooked nose and beetle brows. But no matter what he looked like, he was the most welcome sight she'd ever beheld. "Help," she whispred.
"No dice, lady."
Shocked, Elyssa stared at him. Then she looked past him. Up the embankment she saw a car, a dark-colored one. It was a black Chevy.
Excerpt from The Truth About Elyssa
Copyright 2001, Thelma Zirkelbach
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