Today I’m going to give you a little excerpt from The Detective’s Brother to enjoy. It’s about Simon Creed, who hasn’t given or received much affection for a while.
“I suppose so. The handwriting on the stub and the check are the same, and it must have been torn out and put in the ledger so that whoever was going to send it out wouldn’t notice the difference in the register. If you look at them side by side, the only thing these have in common is that they’re cursive.” Donahue tapped the check stub, which had been neatly filled out with Amos Bellman’s name and address. “Though I suppose it could be overlooked if you were in a hurry. And unless something like the mill burning down happened, there wouldn’t be any reason for someone to be looking.”
“Uh-huh.” He tried to look at the papers but was distracted by the backs of her hands. A lady’s should have been white and smooth, but hers were a little tan and the right had the ghost of a scar across it. They fascinated him more than they should have for propriety or practicality at that moment, and it didn’t take long for Donahue to notice he wasn’t speaking.
“Is that all you have to say about it?”
“No.” Creed wasn’t quite sure what came over him, but when she turned back as if to ask him what he was talking about, he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her. He was a little rougher about it than he’d meant to be, and she seemed startled by it so he held her firmly to make sure she couldn’t pull away. When he let her go, Donahue’s face was bright red and her hat was pushed back on her head.
“Wh-what was that?”
“I’m sorry,” Creed said quickly, stepping back. “I don’t know what that was.” She stared up at him and he shook his head. “I have to—” He didn’t know how to end his sentence so he turned and left as calmly as possible, making it out of the office and onto the street.
Creed leaned against the side of the building, shaking as if he’d just been ill. What the hell did I just do? I don’t know what came over me, he thought, pressing a hand to his forehead. It was like my body moved on its own when she turned around. The look on Donahue’s face when he’d let go of her came back to him, and he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, trying to make it go away. He couldn’t decide what had been inside her dazed look, and the possibilities either way made him want to punch the wall behind him until his mind was clear again.
It might have been better if she’d just slapped me. I can’t think of much that’s more humiliating than kissing a woman with no interest in you.
Want more? The Detective’s Brother ebook is only $0.99 through April 11th on Amazon and Barnes and Noble! If you’re holding out for a signed copy, I’ll put up details as soon as they are available!