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Dance with a Devil by Iona Morrison

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  • A Blue Cove Mystery

    Jessie is enjoying an evening run, grateful her life is finally back to normal. Starting the incline toward home, a sudden terror grips her. Someone is watching her. She picks up her pace, but he’s hot on her heels—and he means to kill her. She narrowly manages to elude her pursuer and reach the safety of her house. The first one she calls for help is the man she has grown to love, Matt Parker.

    Matt already has his hands full dealing with a notorious hitman who’s in the area and a thug who followed a visitor to Blue Cove. Now Jessie is in danger, and Matt will do anything to keep her safe. He can’t lose her now.

    When Matt becomes the target, it’s Jessie’s turn to help. She has a few surprises in store as a few ghostly friends come to her aid.

    Rating: Sweet
    Page Count: 338
    Word Count: 87995
    978-1-5092-1216-3 Paperback
    978-1-5092-1217-0 Digital

    Excerpt

    A look of terror came over his face as they swirled down onto him. He twisted and rolled, screaming, trying to get away. He slapped at them, beating the air as he tried to get to his feet, but they wouldn’t let him. Finally, he crawled, clawing at the undergrowth, cowering, his screams growing weaker as he tried to shield his eyes from their accusing faces. Jessie stood as if turned to stone as he writhed and screamed. He finally died—with the same fear in his eyes that he must have seen in theirs when he had murdered them. It was awful. She covered her eyes and sagged against the tree, gasping for air.

    The clouds that had hidden the moon shifted, and the night sky was once again awash in moonlight, mocking the victim that lay motionless on the ground. She looked away.

    Gina appeared and shoved her sideways. A bullet splintered the bark of the tree where she had been standing. Jessie ran. She could hear someone crashing through the brush not far behind her. Another bullet missed her, hitting a little to the right, kicking up dirt and leaves on the ground. She ran faster. Up ahead, she could see a branch hanging low, and she did what she had done many times as a kid. She reached out, grabbed it as she ran by, and swung herself up into the tree to hide. She got a foot on a low branch and climbed up further, out of sight, her dress snagging on twigs. Her feet screamed in pain, her palms were slick with blood. Be silent! She crouched, one arm around the main trunk, trying to stifle her breathing. Her heart pumped hard, her ears strained for any sound. She took her gun from the holster, but her hand wouldn’t stop shaking. A branch snapped, and she jerked. Quiet! She covered her mouth with her hand. He was still coming, the hunter hunting his prey. He wasn’t trying to be quiet. Branches snapped, and she heard the thud of running footsteps. Jessie clung to the trunk, still as a piece of tree bark.

    He charged into the clearing, a small man with a big gun. The leaves and twigs crunched beneath his shoes, and she could see his breath in the cool evening air. Even from her hiding place, she could see the determined look on his face. “Where did she get to?” he said aloud and looked among the low-lying bushes, scanning the area. “She couldn’t have gotten far,” he mumbled, kicking at the dirt.

    He stopped under the tree where she was hiding, and she closed her eyes. Be a tree. She heard Matt calling her name. He had heard him, too. Matt was walking into a trap. Think fast, Jessie. He lifted his gun. Quiet and tense, she waited, staring down at him, holding her breath. The man’s head moved back and forth, listening. Someone else was calling her name now. Was that Tom? Which way were they coming from? He focused, his gun lifting to rest snugly against his shoulder, his finger on the trigger. Ready. Someone was pushing through the brush on the far side of the clearing. Jessie leaped.

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Dance with a Devil

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