Larynn Ford: Saving Evangeline

Excerpts from Nancee Cain's new release, Saving Evangeline!

Excerpt 1

"Don't do it," a deep male voice commands.

A whisper of a breeze caresses my cheek. With a frustrated sigh, I lower my foot and drag my gaze from the murky, dark water that beckons me with its siren's song. Glaring at the unwelcome intruder, I dash the tears from my cheeks. He stands in the shadow, and all I can make out is that he's tall with broad shoulders. Striding toward me, hands in his pockets, he starts whistling. The thought occurs to me I should be scared and run, but it's as if I'm glued to the spot. As he comes into the light, I see he's a priest. But he doesn't look like any priest I've ever known. This guy is Hollywood gorgeous. Under the dim light, he appears almost incandescent and his emerald eyes seem lit from within. Their intensity burns a hole into my paper-thin bravado, which slips away and disappears like ashes in the wind.

Dammit, I'd just worked up the courage to follow through with my plan to leave this nightmare behind, and this stranger has interrupted, dragging me back to my personal hell on earth.

Excerpt 2

"No," I whimper, squeezing my eyes harder and swatting at the hand on my shoulder.. The warm hand shakes me, again.

"Come on, Crazy Girl, you need to get out of the tub. This isn't fair. I didn't sign on for this kind of temptation. I'm only human remember," Remi murmurs, his voice laced with frustration.

My eyes snap open, and I struggle to sit up, covering my nakedness as best as I can with my hands and knees. The bubbles are gone. The water is cold. And my skin burns with embarrassment. A rumble of thunder and crack of lightning splits the air and we're plunged into darkness.

"Thank God," he mutters followed by a grunt. I figure he must've run into the counter. Remi swears under his breath, and wind hits the side of the house, whistling with intensity.

Excerpt 3

"You're not my mother. What about your wasteful spending?" I raise one eyebrow and stare pointedly at the brand new pack of cigarettes poking out of his jeans pocket. Next to something else that garners my attention. With reluctance, I force myself to look him in the face.

"It's an addiction," he argues.

Mmm, a habit that I might want to try... I shake my head. Cigarettes, he's talking about smoking. Quit looking at his package. "So? Maybe chocolate is an addiction for me."

"You don't need it. After meeting you, trust me, I need the cigarettes."