Bored, restless, and ever curious, Everly Gray schedules a week off from her personal coaching business, takes her ESP fingers out of protective custody, and begins to explore the remains of her parents' property. It's time for her to track their killers and bring them to justice.

That's the plan. Until one of her so-called friends kidnaps her for an impromptu trip to Hawaii, and she discovers the pain of betrayal.

Before he married Everly, Mitchell Hunt made a bargain with the devil—and lost. When he shows up in Hawaii to make things right, danger follows him, and escalates when a rogue government agent, and a militant psychopath with her gang of minions vie for control of Everly and her healing gifts.

Mitch's betrayal has put Everly's life in danger, and flips their relationship to the other side of romance, where there's no way back—or is there? 


                     AMAZON         B&N        KOBO

To Touch a Thief is a novella, a brief look into one of the secondary characters lives. Everly Gray still plays a key role in this story, but it leans toward the romance between Mitchell Hunt's sister, Jayne, more than the mystery that is more common in Everly's stories. Since Mitchell is Everly's love interest, and the occasional bane of her life, it seemed only fair to give his sister her own story. And it sets the stage for the next step in Everly's adventures in a Touch of the Past.

All of the Everly Gray Adventures are written in 1st person, except this one. It was quite a challenge to keep Everly's chapters in first person, while writing about Jayne Hunt and Parker Steele in 3rd person. I admit that I loved the challenge, and for that reason this novella is one of my favorite books.

All of Everly's adventures have been read and critiqued by someone in law enforcement. This novella was no exception, but the research for it was more hands-on for me. A MP from our local Air Force Base handcuffed me so I could learn first-hand what it felt like. A chilling experience - especially when he read me my rights.

What readers are saying:

For a story to be good, I need to see it in my mind, this author is skilled at making the pictures in my mind vivid. Can't wait for the next one! 
~ Sharon B.

To Touch a Thief is available in digital, print, and audio format at Amazon 

In audio at Audible

And in digital and print at Barnes & Noble

Prologue
 
Darkness chased my dream away, crowding me, pushing me into the reality of the night. My eyelids flickered against the abruptness of waking and my nerve endings were tuned to high alert, but to…what? The rumble of traffic, faint and distant, filtered through the open window. Palm trees rustled in the tropical breeze. Normal sounds that didn’t explain the thudding of my heart or the skittery jitters running along my nerves.

Inhale. Exhale. I pressed a fist tight to my chest in a futile effort to still the frantic pounding of my heart. When had the darkness gotten so loud? I swallowed and held my breath, focusing on the soft, subtle sounds that hid behind the obvious. There. A faint disturbance in the energy Nothing I recognized, but it sensed me, tickled my aura with a light, questioning touch. A curious touch. My heart skipped a beat, and fear settled over my skin. This wouldn’t do at all. Not if there was any hope of getting back to sleep.

Nerves tingling, I groped the blankets and slid my hand over the pillow searching for Ahimsa, knowing his purr would calm me.

An indentation. Still warm, but no furry feline.

I bolted up, reached for the light. “No light,” screamed through my mind, and I jerked away from the switch. The clock cast a shimmery blue haze that left the deep corners of my bedroom in shadow. Two-twenty.

Bothersome bouncing Buddhas.

Ahimsa always spends the night curled against me or on the pillow next to me. “Ahi—” The shout stuck in my throat. An unconscious warning? 

Deep breaths. When had my yoga calm evaporated? I consciously pulled it around me, clutching to each deliberate breath and taking the time to rest at the bottom of my exhalations.

A sound came from Ahimsa. A yowl that started from the back of his throat, clung to the air, and caught the hair on my arms. It shattered any pretense at staying calm. My feet slammed against the polished wood floor, and I raced downstairs to the business floor of my building. “Ahimsa.” My mind screamed his name, but it came out as a pant, floating without substance.

Another yowl. I’d heard sounds like that come from humans. In mental hospitals. Never from my cat and it flung any hope of coherent thought from my brain. I couldn’t tell his exact location, but the cries came from the front of my shop, Soma Herbal. With any luck, he’d cornered something small and furry that could be hustled outside with the judicious use of a broom and I could be back in bed within minutes. 

Two-thirds of the way down, I slipped on a stair tread—Damn it, Chloe. Why didn’t you go for the natural finish instead of the satin—landed hard, pain slicing through my hip as I skidded to the bottom on my tush. A human avalanche that made enough noise to alert every criminal within a ten-block radius.

Again with the feline distress call. Less disturbing this time—less human, more feline. Who knew a domestic shorthair could speak impatience so fluently? At least he didn’t sound hurt. Angry, though. And disturbed.  

I hobbled toward the front door, rubbing at my bruised hip as I weaved my way around the counters and displays. A ray of light streamed through the window blinds, caught the opalescent glimmer of Ahimsa’s green eyes. He wanted out? Impossible. He never asked to go out. Ever. As felines go, he hit the top of the scaredy-cat scale, flatly refusing to go outside for any reason. A good thing, since I wouldn’t let him out to experience the creepy crawlies that haunt tropical nights.

I crouched down, stroked the agitated bristle from his fur. Maybe the cute female tabby from two doors down had been prowling the neighborhood for some quick booty.

Or maybe not.


Available in 2013