Delphine, and the narrative, ruminate quite a bit on social issues. The treatment of veterans. The stigmas around bisexuality in men, especially men who are considered “manly men.” The taboos around men who enjoy anal sex. The role of the news media in the division of today’s society. And the potentially hazardous legacy of long-term elected politicians when the electorate becomes complacent. How did you feel about these issues, how they fictionally played out in Misted Pines, and how they affect our society today?
Who do you think killed Kennedy?
Try More Kristen Ashley Suspense
The ‘Burg Series
For You
The ’Burg Series Book One
Lieutenant Alexander Colton and February Owens were high school sweethearts. Everyone in their small town knew from the moment they met they were meant for each other. But something happened and Feb broke Colt’s heart then she turned wild and tragedy struck. Colt meted out revenge against the man who brought Feb low, but even though Colt risked it all for her, Feb turned her back on him and left town.
Fifteen years later, Feb comes back to help run the family bar. But there’s so much water under the bridge separating her and Colt everyone knows they’ll never get back together.
Until someone starts hacking up people in Feb’s life. Colt is still Colt and Feb is still Feb so the town watches as Colt goes all out to find the murderer while trying to keep Feb safe.
As the bodies pile up, The Feds move in and a twisting, turning story unravels exposing a very sick man who has claimed numerous victims along the way, Feb and Colt battle their enduring attraction and the beautiful but lost history that weaves them together.
For You
The ‘Burg Series Book One
Chapter One
Angie
Until that day, I’d made an art out of avoiding Alexander Colton.
All my work would be for nothing, all because of Angie.
Poor, sweet, stupid, dead Angie.
* * * * *
Martin Fink and Christopher Renicki were the first two uniforms who responded to my call. I’d known Marty and Chris for ages. It was good they were partners. Chris was smart; Marty, not so much.
We were out in the alley, Chris doing crime scene stuff, Marty standing by me. A couple of squad cars with their lights silently flashing had pulled in on either side of the dumpster. Other uniforms had been dispatched to hold back the growing crowd and the crime scene tape was secured by the time Alec showed up.
He’d parked elsewhere and didn’t come through the bar like I expected him to. He had keys to the bar, for one. For another, he knew the bar nearly as well as I did and not only because he spent a good deal of time sitting at the end of it, my brother standing inside the bar in front of him, both of them drinking beer and talking about shit I couldn’t hear because I stayed well away.
Another surprise was he also didn’t have his partner Sully with him.
I watched him as he walked up to Marty and me.
The detectives in town, not that there were many of them, wore ill-fitting, inexpensive suits or nice trousers and shirts with ties.
Not Alec.
Jeans, boots, wide leather belt, sports jacket that looked tailored for him (probably a present from Susie Shepherd) and a nice shirt.
Alec was a big guy even when he was a kid, just kept growing and growing. Dad used to say if he didn’t stop his head would touch the clouds. Mom thought Alec and my brother Morrie were best friends because they were both the biggest kids in the class and it just grew from that. Morrie grew out as well as up, however. Alec just grew tall and broad but stayed lean. Alec was tight end to Morrie’s offensive lineman during high school, and in all things life. Morrie did the grunt work and never got the glory. Alec knew how to block and was really good at it but every once in a while he got the chance to shine.
Alec’s dark hair was too long but he’d always worn it too long, even as a kid. But he’d done it then because his mother was such a shit mother. She never remembered to get it cut. My mom finally ended up taking Alec to the barber when she took Morrie. Later he kept it long just because he was Alec. It curled around his ears and neck now and, as with everything Alec, it looked a little wild.
I stood there and watched silently as he made it to me and Marty, his eyes never leaving me. He didn’t even look at Angie.
“Feb,” he said on a short nod.
“Alec,” I replied.
His eyes were a weird color; light brown with a hint of gold. His dad had the same eyes but his dad’s eyes weren’t exactly like Alec’s. Alec’s dad’s eyes were mean.
Those eyes got hard as did his mouth when I called him Alec. They always did. Everyone called him Colt. Everyone. Even my mom and dad started calling him Colt after what happened years ago.
Only his folks and I called him Alec anymore, not that he talked to his folks since his dad was in prison for the second time and his mom was never sober and he never spoke to her. Not that I talked much to him either.
He hated it when I called him Alec but I didn’t call him Alec to be a bitch or anything, just that he was Alec to me, he always had been.
“Colt,” Chris said, calling his attention and Alec looked his way.
That was when he caught sight of Angie.
I looked at her too and wished I hadn’t. I’d already seen enough, too much, so much I’d never forget.
I’d gone to high school with Angie. We’d been friends once upon a time, good friends. You could say we still were, but not good ones.
No, we weren’t anything anymore because now she was dead.
Alec’s midsection came into my vision and cut off sight of Angie. I lifted my eyes to Alec’s face, which was still hard but now he was directing his hard look at Marty.
“Why’s she out here?” he asked, sounding pissed-off.
“What?” Marty asked back, sounding as usual, confused.
“Jesus, Marty,” Alec muttered, still sounding pissed and his eyes cut to me. “Go inside, Feb.”
I stared at him and didn’t move a muscle.
“Feb, inside,” he repeated.
I still stared at him.
He took a step toward me and said low, “February.”
My body jerked and I nodded. Inside would be good. Inside would be fucking awesome.
I went inside, headed directly to Morrie and my office—Mom and Dad’s old office, the office Morrie and Alec and I practically grew up in—and coffee. I could still taste the vomit in the back of my mouth. I hadn’t actually puked but it had threatened.
I was pouring a cup when Morrie came in.
Alec was big but my brother was enormous. He was also demonstrative.
He walked right up to me, took the coffee cup from my hand, plunked it down, yanked the coffeepot out of my other hand, slid it under the filter and then engulfed me in a hug.
I should have started crying then, I suppose. But I didn’t.
“You okay, Feb?” Morrie asked, and I nodded, my cheek sliding against his big, barrel chest.
I wondered briefly why he was there. It wasn’t his turn to open, it was mine.
My guess, Alec had called him.