Friday Person in a Monday World by C.B. Clark

It's guest day, and we're happy to have C.B. Clark!

She was a Friday person in a Monday world. That’s how people described my mother. She always smiled, was always happy, always fascinated by other people. I was with her one time when she stopped a harried mother of three rambunctious toddlers on the sidewalk and told the woman that the color of her blouse brought out the blue in her eyes. When the woman realized mom was sincere, a smile broke over her face, and she walked away with a strut in her step, her day a bit brighter.

Mom always asked how you were doing, and she cared, really cared. Due to complications from severe osteoporosis and life-long diabetes, she was in constant pain, but you’d never know. She forced a smile and went out and talked to people and made them feel better. Her philosophy was that no one really wanted to hear about your aches and pains, so put on a happy face and get on with your life.

Years of attending functions with dignitaries for my father’s work honed her social skills and she was an excellent schmoozer. She met Queen Elizabeth, Prince Philip, Prince Charles, a variety of Hollywood celebrities, and even Colonel Sanders from KFC, when they visited our small town in the North, and she’d have them feeling comfortable in minutes.

Mom was my biggest supporter with my writing career. She was always eager to share news of my latest book release with anyone she met. I’ll miss her, that’s a given, but I’ll take her lessons to heart and try and follow her lead. With luck and practice, I too will become a Friday gal in a Monday world. Love you, Mom.

Book Blurb:

After five years of hell with an abusive husband, Natasha Hartford vows never to trust another man. Then she stumbles onto a murder scene and meets sexy, stubborn Homicide Detective Chase Brandon, a take-no-prisoners tough guy who’ll settle for nothing less than the truth. Sparks fly, but Chase’s suspicions and Natasha’s innate distrust block the way to happiness.

The detective struggles with his own troubled past and is determined to find the truth behind the shadows dimming Natasha's eyes. As more murders occur and a possible connection to her ex-husband appears, Chase fears her life is in danger.

Natasha and Chase race to find the killer before he strikes again. Their survival depends on their willingness to overcome their mistrust of one another. Will they overcome their fears and find love again? 

Excerpt:

The thick carpet muted the tapping of her high heels as she fled through the reception area and down the hall to the elevators. In spite of her cowardly retreat, she wanted to shout in triumph. She’d been terrified of angering the surly detective, but she’d dragged up her courage and told him what she thought. Blood buzzed through her veins, fueled by the adrenaline rush. Damn. It was good to have her old fire back.

She glanced down a short corridor on her left and stumbled to a stop. How had she missed the ropes of yellow police tape blocking the entry to one of the rooms? Her breath hitched in her throat. That must be where the grisly crime had occurred.

The shocking truth struck her like a blow—Jonas Waverley was dead. Murdered in cold blood. She staggered and grabbed onto the wall.

“Ms. Hartford, wait.”

She glanced back.

Detective Brandon strode along the corridor toward her, his long legs eating up the distance, a determined expression on his face.

Her earlier spurt of courage vanished, and she whirled and dashed toward the bank of elevators. Chest heaving, heart pounding, she hit the button for the elevator, jabbing it again and again.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said, catching up. “I was hard on you, but I’m just doing my job. A man was murdered.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I have to examine every possible lead, question every person of interest.” 

She shuddered and stabbed the down button again. Person of interest? Her? She was a person of interest in a murder investigation?

“Can we go somewhere and talk?”

She shot him a look, making it clear what she thought of his suggestion.

He lifted one shoulder. “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I have a few more questions I’d like to ask.”

The elevator pinged, and the doors opened with a hiss, revealing a middle-aged man and an elderly woman who stared at them with vague interest.

Natasha stumbled toward the elevator.

Detective Brandon grabbed her arm, holding her back. “Ms. Hartford, wait.”

Warmth from his large tanned hand seeped through the thin material of her raincoat and raised goose bumps on her arm. “Let me go.” Her voice was shrill with rising hysteria. She tugged, but he held on, his grip tightening.

Buy Links:

The Wild Rose Press:

http://bit.ly/2I1XB36 

Amazon:

http://amzn.to/2nECqvx 

iTunes:

https://apple.co/2EgzGyy 

Nook:

http://bit.ly/2Bp9JKN 

Kobo:

http://bit.ly/2CYB1os 

GoogleBooks:

http://bit.ly/2FaLmi

Connect with C.B. Clark here:

Facebook: cbclarkauthor@facebook.com 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cbclarkauthor 
Blog: https://cbclarkauthor.wordpress.com 
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15029617.C_B_Clark 
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