Thank you, Sherry, for having me here
today to talk about my new romantic suspense LAST CALL!
You're very welcome Sarah. I love the way you take us into what Last Call is all about. Best wishes with sales.
To get to know more about the book and its characters, we’re going to take a close look . . . one letter at a time.
L – Lingering thoughts. The last time
Rhys saw Nick, she’d just been shot . . . by him. She could forgive the
accidental bullet, but the way he left her afterwards—without a goodbye—should
have slammed the door on all the sexual tension between them for the last time.
But when she wakes up in his arms, she discovers the truth is far from what she
expected.
A – Action. Whether it’s the bad guys
bearing down or the adversarial relationship between Nick and Rhys, there’s
never a dull moment. These two truly can’t catch a break!
S – Suspense. Someone kidnapped Rhys and left her in Nick’s
care. Who, and more importantly, why? Who wants them both dead? And will they
ever resolve their past?
T – Tortured Hero. Yep, that’s Nick. Not
only did he shoot Rhys, but he left town without saying goodbye. Even after
she’s forgiven him, those old wounds only serve to prove to him she deserves
more. He’s trying to do the right thing, but will he ever listen to what she wants?
C – Cutter. He was Nick and Rhys’s
contact when they worked undercover, and he’s their lifeline now. But with a
leak in the department, will their communication prove to be an invaluable
help, or will it lead a ruthless killer straight to their door?
A – Assumptions. Rhys assumed Nick was
too wrapped up in his guilt to even think about betraying her again, but was
she wrong?
L – Layers. They’re everywhere. Just
when you think you’ve found the center, yet another truth is ripped away.
L – Lies. In a deadly game where no one
seems to have a motive, everyone is a suspect. And the only thing more shocking
than the truth is the impossible depth of the lie.
LAST CALL by Sarah Ballance – Romantic
suspense for just 99 cents!
In a perilous game of
trust, a shocking betrayal deals a dangerous hand.
An accidental witness to a
murder-for-hire, ex-cop Rhys Clark becomes the target of ruthless killer—one
determined to silence her at any cost. Playing dead seems to be the most likely
way to stay alive, but when her protection comes in the form of mega-sexy
former adversary Nick Massey, Rhys can think of a few fates worse than
death.
Nick Massey may have
walked away from his troubles, but he never got past wanting Rhys. Once paired
undercover, they’d been nothing but fireworks until a botched assignment ended
her career, sending his into a tailspin. Now a mysterious client threatens
Nick’s life if he doesn’t keep Rhys safe, but it isn’t until fate takes a
critical turn that he realizes the devastating truth: he’s been her greatest
threat all along.
Last Call | Excerpt
Rhys Clark swore and
jerked her foot from the murky puddle that had just claimed one of her new
running shoes. Perfect. The day was now
officially perfect.
She blamed Nick Massey.
Blaming him was easy
enough. She didn’t know which required more nerve on his part—leaving town or
crawling back—but both events left her bitter and raw. And wet, she grumbled inwardly. With the sky spitting
rain and the occasional pellet of sleet smacking her face, she should have
skipped her evening jog. The street was little more than a concrete alley of
shuttered businesses, and the bleak weather amplified the emptiness. But
tonight, with Nick hot on her mind, running through the cold was her last ditch
effort to return to her senses.
It hadn’t worked.
Another blast of icy air
howled through the narrow street. If she hadn’t been standing still, she
probably wouldn’t have heard the shouting that followed.
A few months ago, an
altercation wouldn’t have been unusual in this part of town. But the whole area
was under reconstruction. Local crime dissipated to nothing with the razing of
several apartment buildings, and until now Rhys had long found her route to be
a place of solace. She glanced around as the voices drew closer and more
intense. Rapid footsteps smacked the wet pavement. Then the echo of a gunshot
cracked the night.
Where fear left her
paralyzed, instinct insisted she get out of sight. She looked around and found
an unbroken expanse of concrete wall offering few options. Heart pounding, Rhys
ducked into the recessed doorway of a vacant storefront and hoped the deep
shadows would keep her concealed.
Terrifying seconds passed.
The sound of her own suppressed breath roared in her ears.
Voices came, clearer this
time. Close.
“If we screw this up…” The
words, terse and hushed, were encapsulated in panic.
“Shut up,” demanded a
second voice. “No one messed up. He’s as good as dead.”
“You think you’re going to
sell that without a body? We didn’t get paid to lose him.”
“He took one to the gut.
He won’t get far. We’ll find him.”
“He’s leaving a
trail. Blood. We got the big bucks for a clean—”
“Shut up.”
A hit? Rhys shuddered, fear scaling her spine. A professional hit
would have been silent—something not accomplished by the gunshot or the ensuing
conversation—but in this game, experience wasn’t always a prerequisite for
willingness to pull the trigger. Two years of undercover work had taught her as
much.
So had a bullet.
Rhys froze, waiting for
the voices to pass. But luck was not on her side. Rather than drawing away, the
footsteps ceased.
“Well, well, well,” said
the confident one. “Looks like our little game of hide and seek is over.”
Hope crumbled. The voice
was far too close. Had they seen her?
She dared not move.
Through her lashes, she saw nothing in her narrow view of the dimly lit street
but dirty puddles and the occasional bit of trash plastered to wet pavement.
She prayed they didn’t look her way should they walk past.
Grunts erupted nearby,
followed by the sound of sneakers scuffling on concrete. Then two shots fired,
and all sounds of struggle gave way to profane celebration.
In the same instant, a man
fell to the sidewalk in front of Rhys. His eyes, sightless and familiar, bore
into her.
She choked a gasp.
A man stepped into her
line of sight, his weapon at the ready. Before she could stop herself, she
locked eyes with him. Big mistake. The decision threw her into a cloud of
emotional shrapnel, the past flying at her in shards. She’d been shot once
before.
It hadn’t ended well.
The gunman opened his
mouth and formed an ugly grin, his breath coming in visible puffs through
yellowed teeth. “Looks like a double header tonight, T,” he said, never taking
his gaze off Rhys.
“Whaddya mean?” came the
reply. The voice . . . she blinked until the second man shifted into focus.
She knew him. From where? She
couldn’t think.
She glanced to the dead
man, and her vision wavered. Panic shifted her world into a screen of jarred
pixels, the flashback jagged and severe.
“Rhys! Stay with me, Rhys. Do you hear me? Rhys!”
Blood. So much blood.
“Nick.” She touched his face, feeling stubble beneath her fingertips. Then the weight of her arm was too much; as gravity won he slipped away. The world twisted into a sickening spiral until all that was left was his voice, the desperation in his tone bringing warmth to the darkness.
“Rhys!”
Motion jarred her to the present.
The gunman gestured. “Our
witness here is about to have an unfortunate accident.” He raised the weapon,
aiming for the kill.
It was a short view down
the barrel at point blank range. She expected that.
What she didn’t anticipate
was the speed with which he pulled the trigger.
Or how quickly the pain
hit.
Title: LAST CALL
Author: Sarah Balance
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publisher: For the Muse Publishing,
2013ISBN 13: 978-0-9889995-0-3
LAST CALL is
available from:
For the Muse Publishing,
Amazon, Barnes & Noble,
and Smashwords
(formats: .mobi, .epub, HTML, PDF, RTF, LRF,
PalmDoc, and Plain Text).
Click here to add to Goodreads or here for reviews.
About Sarah Ballance
Sarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years”
live on the mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are
perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an
author, but as a homeschooling mom, she often jokes she writes fiction because
if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. (As it turns
out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids). When not buried under
piles of laundry, she may be found adrift in the Atlantic (preferably on a
boat) or seeking that ever-elusive perfect writing spot where not even the kids
can find her.
She loves creating unforgettable stories while putting her
characters through an unkind amount of torture—a hobby that has nothing to do
with living with six children. (Really.) Though she adores nail-biting mystery
and edge-of-your-seat thrillers, Sarah writes in many genres including
contemporary and ghostly paranormal romance. Her ever-growing roster of
releases may be found on her website.
