Message From The Author

Susan Andersen

Book Title: EXPOSURE
Genre: General Romantic Suspense, Romantic Suspense

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Author's Message

I'm thrilled EXPOSURE is being re-released because I have a
definite soft spot for this story - and particularly for my hero,
Elvis Donnelly. I love wounded-warrior type heroes, and I really got
to color outside the lines with this guy. Being the son of a
small-town working girl who is a huge fan of the King is only part
of his problem.

Big city cop turned small town sheriff, Elvis had
fallen victim to a car bomb that cost him his hand and left him
scarred, and he's back in a town he swore he'd never return to: Port
Flannery, Washington, where his mother's profession and his own
refusal to fade into the background once made him an outcast.

Hey, I didn't burden him just because I have a mean streak. That
only accounted for part of it. I mean what's the point of being a
writer if you can't make a guy suffer a little before he gets his
heart's desire?

I digress. There was actually a method to my
madness - Elvis is an outsider who's only desire is to be left in
peace to live a nice, uneventful life. Then Emma Sands arrives in
town with her daughter Gracie, her secrets and evasions, and his
days of booking drunks and handing out speeding tickets are
numbered...

"What's goin' on here?" demanded a deep voice.

Emma's head swung around and she found herself gaping
speechlessly...

Standing in the doorway, a small island of space
separating him from the rest of the gawkers, stood one of the
largest men she'd ever seen. He must have been 6' 6", and probably
weighed in the neighborhood of 230 pounds, all of it solid
khaki-and-levis-covered muscle.

But it wasn't simply his size
that caused her to stare. It was the sternness of his expression. It
was the fact that his left arm ended in an artificial limb with a
clip-style hook where his hand should have been, and that a wicked,
raised scar zig-zagged across his left cheek like an inch-and-a-half
long lightning bolt.

She grew aware of Gracie growing quiet
against her. The child's head lowered to nestle against Emma's
breast and her thumb crept into her mouth. Emma glanced down and saw
her daughter staring wide-eyed at the unsmiling man across the room,
big brown eyes fastened on the angry red scar on his face. "Owie,"
she whispered around her thumb.

Visit my webpage at Bookbug or
write me at susanandersen@seanet.com or P.O. Box 47375, Seattle, WA
98146.


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