USA Today Bestselling Author
Life should be getting back to normal…
Chance survived a serial killer returning from the grave and said yes to a date with her ex-lover Jack. But survivor’s guilt eats away at her and her world turns upside down when earthquakes begin to rattle the landscape and devastate the region she calls home.
Madness becomes her…
Terrified that she is the source of earthquakes devastating the land, she tries to shut down her connection to the Earth. But when enemies aware of how to shatter her bond to the earth kidnap her, Chance faces her most desperate hour,
When the earth shakes, the witch bleeds…
Staring into the face of madness, she must learn to trust her allies or risk losing everything—and everyone she loves.
When an earthquake hits Chance is taken off guard. She manages to help dissipate the pressure but not as quickly or as efficiently as she normally can. It was far worse that what is usual for the area and she felt there was something off but couldn’t pinpoint it. Betty was fine and as they checked for any damage Jack calls to be sure she’s okay. Their relationship is progressing as he now has a better idea of what she is and does. Although he’s still cloudy on some things he’s open to learning. Being in California a country away from her doesn’t help either.
When she realizes what the issue was with the earthquakes she goes to the attic to get her grandmother’s journals. She needs to know when the last quake of this magnitude was and if the symptoms were the same. It’s while she was reminiscing that Jamie calls with a favor. Three crop circles, one a prank the other two something else. It’s during her evaluation that she has a seizure and during that were aftershocks. Jamie also drops a bombshell on her saying the whole thing with Oakes made her a murderer.
Upset she flees to the Cary family garden, needing the connection to the earth there. Only to find Victor Callanport waiting for her. She didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone especially not Victor, she needed the quiet and respite of the garden. The questions Victor asks her only reflect her own worries. Overtired after staying to long connected to the earth in the garden she gets a ticket on the way home the result of something disturbing.
She calls Jack as she settles in, this is a favorite scene.
“Yes, Obi Wan. I am going upstairs.”
“Excellent. Now, what did Runs with Beer need help with?”
“You shouldn’t call him that. It’s rude.” I pushed open the door to my apartment and Romeo rushed over to give me his backside when I came in. I was too tired and sore to be suitably chastised by feline disdain.
I chuckled. The doorframe supported me while I untied my boots and toed them off one at a time. I shuffled across the room, my aching feet hardly registering against the rest of the aches in my body. The bed had never looked so inviting. “Jaime needed a consult on some crop circles.” I tucked the phone between between my shoulder and cheek, unbuttoning my jeans and wiggling out of them. The damp denim clung to my legs.
Goosebumps raced across my flesh as the cool air met clammy skin.
“Crop circles? Really?”
“Yeah, I know how it sounds.”
“I dunno, you do weird better than I do. Are you naked yet?”
“Ha! You’re so funny.” I pretended dry amusement, but I smiled as I juggled the phone and twisted my t-shirt off. “To be fair, he’s right. Two of the circles were very unusual. The third—well, the third was a hoax.”
“What made the first two unusual? …and you didn’t answer my question.”
“I was answering your first one—about what Jaime wanted.” I shed my bra and underwear, gathered all of them up and dropped them in the clothes hamper. In the bathroom, I juggled the phone to brush my teeth. I listened to the murmur of room service bringing Jack a tray.
I considered running a comb through my hair, but the dampness created a hedge effect.
Yes, the Hedge Witch with the hedge of hair, next on David Letterman.
“You were saying?” Soft, his voice soothed and hypnotized. The bedsprings squeaked on his side of the phone. I smoothed some salve over the purpling bruise decorating my hip, twisting to make sure it hadn’t spread further onto my buttock.
“I saw the boys who made the first one, typical teenagers carrying some boards and pranking the plantation owner. More or less what you would expect when someone says crop circles. They probably saw some special on the History channel and decided to go and make history happen.” I turned off the lights in the bathroom, jaws creaking with an ear-popping yawn. “Sorry,” I yawn-mumbled.
“S’okay, I know you’re tired.” A yawn distorted his words, and I laughed at the whistling high note he made at the end. “That sounded painful.”
“Eh, just tired. You stare at fifteen hundred files of financial shenanigans and tired takes on a whole new meaning.”
“Fifteen hundred?” I grimaced, flipping the coverlet back and sliding into the jersey cotton sheets. The fabric whispered over my skin and I groaned. The act of lying down was practically orgasmic. The nineteen hours since I’d been unceremoniously tossed out of the bed stretched out the day like eternity.
“Give or take.” He moved the phone away from his mouth while he chewed.
“Nothing gets past you.”
“Baked or mashed potatoes?”
“Ha, French fries.”
“So, two boys, pranking the farm owner…”
“Yeah.” I snuggled into the pillows, the bed cradling tired muscles and bones. “Two teenagers pranking. They made one of the crop circles.” Another yawn. “But not the other two.”
“What made the other two?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
A rumor of sound rippled across a curtained memory. A shadow of familiarity brushed against my cheek. The fraction of recognition, elusive and dancing away out of reach…a woman’s head snapped up, milky gaze locking on mine. Her mouth moves, but the sound doesn’t carry, spitting blackness like venom, draining away the color…
“No. That’s the weird part. I connected and…I saw something. A woman, maybe? Maybe I saw myself. I don’t know. Then aftershock hit and disrupted everything.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either.” I scratched at my abdomen, fingers tracing the white scars slashed across the skin. “I don’t think I braced for it when the aftershocks came and they caught me off guard. Jaime…Jaime said I had a seizure.”
“A seizure?” I imagined Jack sitting up, stiffening from his relaxed posture, fork paused mid-stab into a piece of the steak he ate. “What kind of seizure?”
“The kind that makes you flop around like a fish. I don’t know. Jaime shielded me, brought me back to myself and helped me calm down.”
“Bully for him. Particularly since he’s the reason you had it in the first place.”
“Jack, don’t be like that. It wasn’t his fault.”
“Are you sure? You just told me you didn’t know what happened. Have you ever had a seizure before?”
I traced an imaginary pattern on the ceiling. Romeo bounced onto the bed and padded through the darkness to flop ignominiously on the pillow next to me. His tongue rasped over his fur.
“No.” I left the scars alone. I didn’t need to think about Randall Oakes anymore tonight or the phantom itching from his knife.
“You’ve connected with the Earth hundreds of times before. In all kinds of situations, like the one with the gremlins in Doc Martin’s field…”
“Grafters. Gremlins. Same thing.” He snorted, dismissing my distinctions. “Well, no, a gremlin…”
“Chance?” Patience hung off the end of the single syllable of my name.
“Do I really need a lesson on the difference?” Light sarcasm, whipped to a froth, dripped off the words.
“No.” I didn’t snicker, but the smile tugging on my mouth eased the bruising on my soul.
“Thank you. Now, you’ve done this kind of thing a lot—connect with an area and read it.”
“And this never happened to you before?”
“No.” My smile evaporated.
“So the difference between this time and any other?” He pushed, probed, interrogated. Jack made his living digging under the surface of pleasantries and civil discourse hiding bad business decisions. It really shouldn’t surprise me, once he decided to dig into my world, he didn’t just stop at the first sign of weeds.
“It was a crop circle.”
I sighed. He wanted me to make me say it. “And Jaime helped. He shielded me from distractions, protecting me.”
“Well, he didn’t do a good job of it.”
I softened at the growly, over-protective, bear voice. The soft, chink-swish of a plate and silverware being shoved aside said he finished eating.
“That’s not Jaime’s fault.”
“But you don’t know. That means it could be. You should keep your distance until I get back.”
“I really don’t think I’m going to be reading another crop circle anytime soon, right after an earthquake, while short on sleep. Those are some pretty particular circumstances.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But promise you won’t—at least until I am there to help you.”
“Jack, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to watch your back.”
His words kicked at my heart, making it jump. The butterflies in my stomach became full-blown dragons, bouncing around. Hot and cold washed over my skin.
Long, Heather. Plan Witch from Out of Town (Chance Monroe Book 2). Kindle Locations (791-848). Heather Long. Kindle Edition.
A nightmare and another far more serious earthquake has Chance and Betty injured. Betty more than Chance but Doc is concerned even as Chance readies herself to sign out. There are people she needs to check on and journals she needs to read.
A lot happens in this one, the connection between Jamie and Chance is strong and her relationship with Jack grows stronger as he finally understands how serious her connection to her parcel of earth is. Sidney plays a big part in this one, as does Victor.
There’s laughter, tears and some sizzle along with the suspense. I couldn’t put this book down and I can’t wait to see what Chance gets up to in the next book.
5 Contented Purrs for Heather!
Click the Cover for Buy Links and More!
USA Today bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas in the summertime.
From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories–her characters drive the books.
When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.