Friday, December 12, 2014

DeLuca Family Release Event

DeLuca Family Collection


A Suspenseful Romance Collection
Coming December 12th 2014
from Musa Publishing



Synopsis

Love makes your heart race, but passion can kill.

Three strong, captivating women.
Three intense, driven men.
One family devoted to justice.

Come journey with the DeLuca Family from the tumultuous streets of Chicago to the majestic peaks of Glacier National Park in these three intriguing full-length novels loaded with passion, suspense…and danger.





What the critics are saying about Susan Rae’s books
Heartbeats: “A terrific tale of romantic intrigue, with characters who are intelligent, skilled professionals and to whom we can easily relate.”—Marilyn Weigel, RTM
ICE blue: “With her well-developed characters, Susan keeps you glued to the pages.” Susan Peck, My Cozie Corner
“…this romance, thriller was something that took hold of your heart as you read.” — Beth Cutwright, Beth Art From The Heart
TRUE blue: “The writing was terrific and the plot was intriguing and suspenseful. Rae masterfully deceives the reader into thinking that she knows who-dunnit but the reader will be deliciously surprised at the end.” —Cindi, Mammasez

Heartbeats - Excerpt


Dressed in her nightgown, Elizabeth cracked open the door of the bedroom and peered out, just to make sure the coast was clear. Verifying that the door from the living room to the bathroom was closed, she tiptoed into the room. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee drew her to the table where a steaming carafe sat, along with a basket of blueberry muffins and two cartons of yogurt. The man was an angel, she mused — well, maybe not.
Biting into a muffin, she relished the sweet taste of the blueberries against her palate, then ravenously took another bite and poured herself a cup of coffee. She was about to take her stash into the bedroom when the bathroom door flew open. Drake stepped out, a towel wrapped dangerously low around his loins. He stopped in mid-stride. His eyes locked onto hers. He appeared as shocked as she to find her standing there.
Elizabeth stood there, transfixed, staring at him for a full ten seconds with her coffee cup in one hand, the muffin and napkin in the other. He stood stock-still, too, while water dripped from his forehead and into his eyes. His hair was matted forward. The dripping water drew Elizabeth’s gaze downward. Her eyes traveled to his chest where a patch of dark hair glistened across his pectoral muscles, then down along the line that led to the six-pack of hard muscles that molded his abdomen. Her gaze traveled lower, to the edge of the towel where his hand was clamped around the towel’s ends, barely holding it in place at the top of his right hipbone. The knowledge of what lay beneath that towel brought a burn to her cheeks.
Quickly she drew her gaze back up to his chest, noting the scar to the lower left of his collarbone. An old scar, she judged, grown white with time. She wondered where the new scar was — the scar from the bullet he’d taken in the Virgin Islands. In his back? Beneath the towel? Now that was a scary thought. What a tragic loss to womanhood if he was damaged goods.
Elizabeth, get a grip! she scolded herself. Then another thought assailed her. She realized that if he had been hit there, beneath the towel, he might have come very close to death. There were umpteen blood vessels and arteries in the lower abdomen. Tearing through any one of them could be fatal. The possibility of that brought her eyes sliding quickly back up to his with a touch of panic that unnerved her.
But his eyes did not meet hers, for they were enjoying their own delicious feast…She knew she should move, but found she couldn’t. It was as if she was being held under some ancient power. Finally, his gaze moved up again, pausing at her swollen breasts once more, before returning to her face.
“Oh!” she said. The mixture of surprise and passion she saw in his eyes threatened to make the coffee cup slide from her hand. Her heart thudded wildly against her ribs. She swallowed hard, trying to get control of herself. His eyes narrowed on her.
“I forgot my shaving kit,” he explained, then tore his gaze from hers and crossed to the sofa to rummage through his suitcase with one hand while the other stayed clamped to the towel.
“Yes,” she responded inanely, still unable to get her feet to move. She eyed his strong legs where the towel barely covered his thighs, noted the muscles that rippled along his back when he turned away. Noted, also, that t there was no fresh scar on his back.
He turned to her again and she finally managed to tear her eyes away from him, embarrassed now that he had discovered her examining him.
“I’ll just take this into the bedroom,” she said and quickly made her escape.

ICE -Excerpt

Morning light peeked around the edges of her window blinds when next she opened her eyes. With a start, she realized she must have drifted off to sleep again. Glancing at her bedside clock, she feared the worst—the sun didn’t rise in mid-January in Chicago until almost eight.
The digital clock glared seven forty-five.
She’d planned to be at the clinic by seven to make sure everything was set for the first patients. She must have turned off the alarm in her sleep. It was crazy how the tone alarm at the station could have her jumping out of bed, but at home she slept right through her own alarm. The puppy was yelping again, quite frantically this time.
“Okay, little pup!” she called as she stumbled out of bed. “Hold on. I’m coming!” But as she took a step toward the doorway, she stubbed her toe on one of the boots she’d kicked off the night before.
“Damn,” she swore. Tell yourself again what a great idea accepting the puppy was.
In the kitchen, the puppy’s frenzied state had him scratching at his grate. “Shush,” she scolded him. “Settle down or you’ll wake the neighbors, if there could possibly be any still asleep.”
Bending to open his crate, she reached in to grab him, but he scooted past her, making a beeline for the back door of the condo. She hurried after him…
“Settle down, little pup!” she scolded. She really should come up with a name for him, she couldn’t call him little pup forever. She caught up with him at the door and scooped him up, but not before noticing the little puddle he’d left on the wooden floorboards in his excitement to get out.
“Seriously? Could you give me a break here?”
She tried to be mad at him, but when he looked at her with those soulful little black eyes, she just couldn’t. Pulling him up against her, she rubbed his fur against her cheek and smiled.
“You’re going to be the death of me yet,” she said, not unkindly. She turned to grab a paper towel from the kitchen, but the puppy still wouldn’t settle in her arms. He kept turning his head to yap at the door. “Shush,” she admonished him again.
At last he quieted. It was then that she heard it—the tiniest little mewing coming from the other side of the door.
“What in the world...? Is that what has you so excited?”
Turning once more to the door, she placed a hand over the puppy’s muzzle and listened more closely. Sure enough, the mewing came again.
She slid a couple of slats of the blinds aside, squinting at the beam of sunlight that streamed in from where it peeked over the low buildings behind hers, and scanned the rear area. Her gaze moved over the back porch, to the stair area, and then below it to the asphalt pavement of the courtyard below. Nothing moved. 
The mewing stopped and then started up again. Angela frowned. The raspy mewing sounded suspiciously like a cat.
“Great.” She sighed. “Just what I need, a cat to go along with the dog!”
Tucking the puppy under one arm, she unlocked the door, opened it a crack, and looked down.
A cardboard box lay against the threshold. The muffled mewing came from inside it. She opened the door more fully, ignoring the cold blast of air that slammed against her skin, and knelt to explore the box.
“Well, little pup, what do we have here, do you think?”
Now that she’d discovered the box, he’d settled down and seemed just as curious as she to find out what lay inside. Carefully, she lifted the flaps, expecting at any moment for the cat to jump out at her.
But what lay inside barely moved, except for the tiny mouth in the small round face where it once more emitted the most pitiful gaspy mewing sound.
Angela’s heart rate jumped several beats. Grasping the puppy tighter, she stared into the box and emitted her own startled cry. 
“Oh...My...God!”

True Blue -Excerpt

His cell phone buzzed. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled it out. The caller ID indicated it was Andi, his wife.
Officer Andrea DeLuca was a detective, too. She would have heard about the incident already. She’d also know who was shot and that it wasn’t him.
Deciding he wasn’t ready to talk to her about it just yet, he let the call go to voice mail. Less than thirty seconds later, it buzzed again, this time indicating a text.
You okay?
He sighed and texted back.
Are you going to be able to make it to the dinner tonight?
Damn, he’d pretty much forgotten about the dinner…
He texted back, Chances are, not. Go on without me.
Understand. Love you.
He paused for a second and then typed, Me too, and hit send. Why did he hesitate? He didn’t exactly know. Things had been tense between them lately, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Perhaps it was because he was up for a promotion soon and he was working long hours to try to not screw it up. Between that and Andi’s own dedication to their chosen line of work, it seemed they were spending less and less time together. He glanced back down at Detective Beattie. The team had returned and was now placing his body into a body bag. He frowned. Maybe it was time he and Andi did some re-evaluating.
He was about to slip the phone back into his pocket when it buzzed again. Glancing once more at the caller ID, he didn’t recognize the number or the area code. It definitely was not one of his fellow officers or a member of his family. Ignoring the call for now, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and scanned the assembling media again. No less than three satellite trucks had joined them.
According to his cell phone, it was 4:53—just in time for the evening news. Loosening his tie, he took a step toward them. The temperature was a searing ninety-seven degrees. Add in the humidity and the heat index, it had to be about one hundred and five. The heat didn’t help the tension in the streets. It was a well-known fact that crime, including homicides, went up when the temperatures rose.
He glanced up at the sky. They could use a cold front to come blowing through, complete with thunderstorms. It would be a welcome relief.
But there wasn’t a cloud in sight.

Susan Rae


Susan grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and received her Bachelor of Arts Degree from Columbia College, Missouri with an emphasis in creative writing.She penned her first melodrama in fifth grade for a Girl Scout Drama badge. Complete with hero, heroine, and dastardly villain, it wasn’t so very different, really, than the romantic suspense she writes now.
“I love writing romantic suspense because it allows me to combine a sexy, passionate love story with a gritty suspense tale—in my opinion, the best of both worlds.It also allows me to express my appreciation for the outdoors in the setting that I recreate on the page.”
When she is not sketching characters, you might find Susan on the golf course working on her handicap, or traveling around the country seeking out new settings for her novels with her husband and empty nest puppies, Ginger and Nikute. To read more about Susan’s novels and the writing life, please visit her website/blog at www.susanrae.com



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