The evening in Paris is a wonderful thing indeed. Mary, Lyn and Sharon are dressed to the nines! Sharon in a short black dress that shows off her fantastic legs. She's ready to dance the night away. Lyn looks fabulous in a sequined blue blouse and jeans, her tiny waist enhanced by the black belt she chose. Mary loves her emerald empire waist evening boustierre. It's shows off her best asset, perfectly. Her jeans fit like a glove.
"I love this place," exclaims Lyn. "Did you know that the French are the best kissers? That's why it's called French Kissing!"
Mary and Sharon look at each other and crack up laughing. Mary hugs Lyn. "Yes, sister dear, that's nice."
The French are so friendly and the hostesses have spent the day sightseeing. They have been to the Tower, strolled down the Champs Elysees, saw the Arc de Triumphe and taken a boat cruise on the Seine.
They spent some time in the country. Lovely wild flowers bloom along the roadsides and the air is filled with the scent of fresh cut grass and honeysuckle. They are thrilled to be in Paris.They've decided on a simple fare. Imported cheeses from all over the world, beautiful trays of fresh fruits line the tables, fresh crispy french bread and crackers wait for eager guests.
The drink special today features Oliver's delicious Martinis, every kind from Chocolate to traditional. They are staying at the Gare de Lyon Hotel and, again in front of the massive mirror in one fancy bathroom, they shove and push to get their makeup on. Sharon has bought makeup for all of them from a street vender and little do they know what ingredients are in it. There could be some trouble with that?
"These huge penthouse rooms are wonderful don't you think Sharon?" Mary sits and watches Sharon as she sprays herself with Samsara. Lyn chooses Sung, and hands Mary her favorite, Wings. Lyn sprays so much Sung in the bathing room, that their eyes start to tear up.A knock at the door to the huge suite and Oliver yells out to warn them the guests are arriving.
At the door is the guest of honor, Autumn Jordan. She is dressed in a lovely cashmere tunic sweater, calf length jeans and she is barefoot. As a matter of fact everyone is barefoot. "You leave your shoes at the door," Lyn points out to the guests. Autumn curls up, on the corner of a sprawling couch and accepts the Martini from Oliver.
Oliver offers Autumn her 'Midnight In Paris' Martini, his deep voice, sexy, and having spent time in France he uses his best French accent. His warm voice pauses and then he offers Autumn her book.
"Could you autograph this for me." He takes Autumn's hand and kisses it. Then he leaves to bring out the lovely cake he baked for her. It looks yummy and Lyn has to drag Mary away from it, while Sharon swipes a dollop on her finger and smiles at the sweet, tasty, confection.
Several of the guests are locals. Their rich French accents fill the air. The girls are elated.
"Everyone please may I have your attention?" Sharon calls to the crowd. Voices drop off and Sharon goes on.
"This lovely gathering is to celebrate the release of Autumn Jordan's wonderful new book, Evil Witness." She holds it up for everyone to see. "Please pick up your copies and have Autumn sign them before you leave."
The crowd begins to speak again and soft music and voices drown out Sharon's last words. "Let the celebration begin!"
Little does anyone know, Lyn is undercover. Working for the Lourvre, she is searching for a stolen DiVinci painting, and someone in this room has it.
Do you know who has the Museums painting and how can we catch them?
Autumn Jordon, a quiet nut with a reputation for finding trouble, lives with her husband along the Appalachian Trail in northeast Pennsylvania. Crafting stories has always been part of her life. While in fourth grade, her first novel sold three copies. When not writing or blogging at www.autumnjordonsnotes.blogspot.com and her sisters blogs, she enjoys her friends, great books, her garden, hiking, traveling with DH. She loves meeting new people and making new friends. Visit her at www.autumnjordon.com
EVIL'S WITNESS
2009 GOLDEN HEART Finalist
Evil's Witness
Obsessed By Wild Fire
The Wild Rose Press/B&N/Amazon
www.autumnjordon.com
Blurb:
Stephanie Boyd’s world crashes when she and her children witness a blood bath. To escape the wrath of the Russian Mafia, she has no choice but to help the FBI uncover the mafia’s mole inside the U.S. Treasury. While on the run with the handsome agent who is willing to die for them, Stephanie learns the meaning of love.Agent John Dolton’s break in solving the case that cost him everything is a couple of kids and a beautiful widow. But keeping them safe seems impossible when their every move is foreseen by their enemy. Stephanie and her children soften the loner’s heart and John vows not to fail to protect the family he comes to love.
EXCERPT
“Are you going to tell me what Ben Stover had to say?” She dreaded hearing the news he’d learned. It couldn’t be good. He would’ve told her good news immediately.
“They lifted the prints from the guy at the mall and ran them through the system. Ben had a hit. A small time thief named Doug Antonelli, a.k.a. Dog. So you were right about his name. But, we haven’t had any luck searching the data banks for a Victor, yet.”
She held on to a glimmer of hope. “You think you will though?”
He nodded. “This guy didn’t just fall to earth with a plan to rob the U.S. Treasury of millions. He has to have come from somewhere—have some kind of record. We’ll find him. It’s just going to take some time.”
“I won’t be stupid and ask how much?”
“I appreciate that.” He smiled. As if realizing for the first time that she was washing dishes, he said, “I told you I’d do those, Steph.”
She’d noted before he’d shortened her name. She kind of liked the nickname.
“That’s okay. This is therapy.” Stephanie shrugged and smiled at him as she rinsed another plate. “After the last twenty-four hours, I really needed to do something normal.”
“I understand. I do the same thing when I’m done with a case.”
Her hands stilled under the warm water. “You do?”
“You look surprised.” He set his mug down, snatched the tea towel from the counter and started to dry the dishes from the rack.
Gene had never helped her with the dishes.
She washed and John dried. It was kind of nice standing side by side, talking, even though some of their conversation dealt with their lives being at stake. But there was something about a man wearing a gun, drying dishes that struck her as funny. Especially a barefooted one.
She chuckled and he looked confused. “What?
“I’m sorry. It’s just you’re FBI.” Her cheeks warmed, again, the moment the idiotic words spilled from her mouth.
“We have lives too. We don’t wait in sterile closets for the next case.” He laughed with her.
She liked his laugh and the way his eyes sparkled.
“Well, actually, I sort of had this picture of you in a smoke filled room, playing cards, waiting for the call. Then going to the sterile room to be briefed on the high-tech gadgets you’ll use on your mission.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t played cards in years.”
“Oh, I see. That’s the only part wrong?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Hmm.” Stephanie’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought for sure John would hear it over the steady stream of tap water.
He wore no ring. She wanted to ask him if there was a Mrs. Dolton, but she didn’t have the nerve.
“Are you going to tell me what Ben Stover had to say?” She dreaded hearing the news he’d learned. It couldn’t be good. He would’ve told her good news immediately.
“They lifted the prints from the guy at the mall and ran them through the system. Ben had a hit. A small time thief named Doug Antonelli, a.k.a. Dog. So you were right about his name. But, we haven’t had any luck searching the data banks for a Victor, yet.”
She held on to a glimmer of hope. “You think you will though?”
He nodded. “This guy didn’t just fall to earth with a plan to rob the U.S. Treasury of millions. He has to have come from somewhere—have some kind of record. We’ll find him. It’s just going to take some time.”
“I won’t be stupid and ask how much?”
“I appreciate that.” He smiled. As if realizing for the first time that she was washing dishes, he said, “I told you I’d do those, Steph.”
She’d noted before he’d shortened her name. She kind of liked the nickname.
“That’s okay. This is therapy.” Stephanie shrugged and smiled at him as she rinsed another plate. “After the last twenty-four hours, I really needed to do something normal.”
“I understand. I do the same thing when I’m done with a case.”
Her hands stilled under the warm water. “You do?”
“You look surprised.” He set his mug down, snatched the tea towel from the counter and started to dry the dishes from the rack.
Gene had never helped her with the dishes.
She washed and John dried. It was kind of nice standing side by side, talking, even though some of their conversation dealt with their lives being at stake. But there was something about a man wearing a gun, drying dishes that struck her as funny. Especially a barefooted one.
She chuckled and he looked confused. “What?
“I’m sorry. It’s just you’re FBI.” Her cheeks warmed, again, the moment the idiotic words spilled from her mouth.
“We have lives too. We don’t wait in sterile closets for the next case.” He laughed with her.
She liked his laugh and the way his eyes sparkled.
“Well, actually, I sort of had this picture of you in a smoke filled room, playing cards, waiting for the call. Then going to the sterile room to be briefed on the high-tech gadgets you’ll use on your mission.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t played cards in years.”
“Oh, I see. That’s the only part wrong?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Hmm.” Stephanie’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought for sure John would hear it over the steady stream of tap water.
He wore no ring. She wanted to ask him if there was a Mrs. Dolton, but she didn’t have the nerve.
“They lifted the prints from the guy at the mall and ran them through the system. Ben had a hit. A small time thief named Doug Antonelli, a.k.a. Dog. So you were right about his name. But, we haven’t had any luck searching the data banks for a Victor, yet.”
She held on to a glimmer of hope. “You think you will though?”
He nodded. “This guy didn’t just fall to earth with a plan to rob the U.S. Treasury of millions. He has to have come from somewhere—have some kind of record. We’ll find him. It’s just going to take some time.”
“I won’t be stupid and ask how much?”
“I appreciate that.” He smiled. As if realizing for the first time that she was washing dishes, he said, “I told you I’d do those, Steph.”
She’d noted before he’d shortened her name. She kind of liked the nickname.
“That’s okay. This is therapy.” Stephanie shrugged and smiled at him as she rinsed another plate. “After the last twenty-four hours, I really needed to do something normal.”
“I understand. I do the same thing when I’m done with a case.”
Her hands stilled under the warm water. “You do?”
“You look surprised.” He set his mug down, snatched the tea towel from the counter and started to dry the dishes from the rack.
Gene had never helped her with the dishes.
She washed and John dried. It was kind of nice standing side by side, talking, even though some of their conversation dealt with their lives being at stake. But there was something about a man wearing a gun, drying dishes that struck her as funny. Especially a barefooted one.
She chuckled and he looked confused. “What?
“I’m sorry. It’s just you’re FBI.” Her cheeks warmed, again, the moment the idiotic words spilled from her mouth.
“We have lives too. We don’t wait in sterile closets for the next case.” He laughed with her.
She liked his laugh and the way his eyes sparkled.
“Well, actually, I sort of had this picture of you in a smoke filled room, playing cards, waiting for the call. Then going to the sterile room to be briefed on the high-tech gadgets you’ll use on your mission.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t played cards in years.”
“Oh, I see. That’s the only part wrong?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Hmm.” Stephanie’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought for sure John would hear it over the steady stream of tap water.
He wore no ring. She wanted to ask him if there was a Mrs. Dolton, but she didn’t have the nerve.
“Are you going to tell me what Ben Stover had to say?” She dreaded hearing the news he’d learned. It couldn’t be good. He would’ve told her good news immediately.
“They lifted the prints from the guy at the mall and ran them through the system. Ben had a hit. A small time thief named Doug Antonelli, a.k.a. Dog. So you were right about his name. But, we haven’t had any luck searching the data banks for a Victor, yet.”
She held on to a glimmer of hope. “You think you will though?”
He nodded. “This guy didn’t just fall to earth with a plan to rob the U.S. Treasury of millions. He has to have come from somewhere—have some kind of record. We’ll find him. It’s just going to take some time.”
“I won’t be stupid and ask how much?”
“I appreciate that.” He smiled. As if realizing for the first time that she was washing dishes, he said, “I told you I’d do those, Steph.”
She’d noted before he’d shortened her name. She kind of liked the nickname.
“That’s okay. This is therapy.” Stephanie shrugged and smiled at him as she rinsed another plate. “After the last twenty-four hours, I really needed to do something normal.”
“I understand. I do the same thing when I’m done with a case.”
Her hands stilled under the warm water. “You do?”
“You look surprised.” He set his mug down, snatched the tea towel from the counter and started to dry the dishes from the rack.
Gene had never helped her with the dishes.
She washed and John dried. It was kind of nice standing side by side, talking, even though some of their conversation dealt with their lives being at stake. But there was something about a man wearing a gun, drying dishes that struck her as funny. Especially a barefooted one.
She chuckled and he looked confused. “What?
“I’m sorry. It’s just you’re FBI.” Her cheeks warmed, again, the moment the idiotic words spilled from her mouth.
“We have lives too. We don’t wait in sterile closets for the next case.” He laughed with her.
She liked his laugh and the way his eyes sparkled.
“Well, actually, I sort of had this picture of you in a smoke filled room, playing cards, waiting for the call. Then going to the sterile room to be briefed on the high-tech gadgets you’ll use on your mission.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t played cards in years.”
“Oh, I see. That’s the only part wrong?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Hmm.” Stephanie’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought for sure John would hear it over the steady stream of tap water.
He wore no ring. She wanted to ask him if there was a Mrs. Dolton, but she didn’t have the nerve.