For the Love of a Dog
GIVEAWAY ALERT
You might have seen this post last week on Just Romantic Suspense.
I've included more pictures.
I’m not certain I’ve ever shared why I wrote THE MARINE’S LAST
DEFENSE. My cousin’s son shared with me that the only thing that saved his
sanity after serving in Iraq was his dog. He had severe PTSD with night
terrors. The stroking of his dog calmed him and helped him through his
transition back into society. I also had a fan tell me a story of a woman who
married Marines hoping they would get killed in action (that’s horrible,
right?). But if they didn’t die, she’d divorce them and have a guaranteed income
from the government (some rules just don’t make sense).
It would have been very easy for the Hickory Creek Animal Shelter
to euthanize a small puppy that was blind in one eye, too small, and had a
skin/fur impediment caused from the trauma to her body. But they didn’t. When
they showed her to me…I was in love with her fearlessness and curiosity. She
was perfect for Jake, my lost Marine. But it did make it very hard to write the
book while I was crying and mourning.
This Excerpt from THE MARINE’S
LAST DEFENSE is when Jake first meets Dallas:
“You go see if you can find
that ghost,” his partner had ordered when they’d arrived. He’d leaned his head
against the headrest and shut his eyes. “I’m going to keep the heater running
on these old bones, partner. You love
the cold, don’t cha, partner?”
“Sure, Owens. I
could stay out here all freakin’ day.” Okay, maybe his reply had been a slight
exaggeration. Then again, he hadn’t actually replied, just mumbled after he’d
left the car. He would continue to accept the late shifts, practical jokes and
crank calls, just like he had this morning.
“I’m a freakin’
machine.” No one could break down the machine at work.
The ghost was
probably a drunk trying to get out of the snowfall, but it had to be checked
out. What if the call was just a staged joke? Could Owens have arranged for a
“ghost” to be at the spillway?
It was the perfect
setup. Someone could pop out of the bushes, try to surprise him and he might
even lose his footing. “I will not fall and have that humiliation blasted
across the internet. I’ll never hear the end of it.” Those guys knew he’d be
the one out here verifying ghosts don’t exist. And he wouldn’t put it past any
of them to have cooked up this entire charade.
As long as they
dished it out, he’d take it. The cold, searching for a ghost, whatever, he’d
keep at the job. He wanted the job. He had nothing else but the job. He
wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers like the rest of his life.
An early-morning
search of the underbrush around White Rock Lake beat picking up Friday-night
drunks from Deep Ellum any night of the week. Homicide detectives wore civilian
clothes, a definite improvement from the street cops. Man, he was glad to be
out of a uniform. Any uniform.
His years as a
Marine M.P. didn’t seem to make a difference to his coworkers. Maybe they
thought he was more qualified to deal with drunks than legitimate homicides. If they only knew what he wanted to forget.
The beam from the
flashlight reflected off a pair of red eyes. The animal didn’t bolt. Jake took
a step closer to the fence and heard the low whine of a dog.
A black Labrador
was under the brush on the other side of the six-foot security fence. Located
just below a large yellow-and-orange danger sign, warning that the lake’s
spillway was nearby.
The leash must have
tangled around a limb, pinning the dog to the cold February ground. The pup
yelped, whining louder, visibly shaking from the cold. He dropped back to the
ground, obviously tired from his struggle for freedom.
“Hang on, now.
How’d you get over there?” Just to his right the section of fence was raised
off the ground, easy enough for a dog or person to crawl under.
Jake clicked off
the light and dropped it in his pocket. Going over the icy fence was a lot
cleaner than crawling under like the dog had. He shook the chain-link fence,
verifying it could hold his weight, and scaled it in a few seconds, landing on
the spillway side with both feet firm, in the melting snow.
“So you’re the
ghost those drunks reported?” He knelt and offered his hand for the Lab to
sniff. It quickly licked his fingers. “You’re friendly enough. What are you
caught on?”
The stubborn dog
refused to budge even with encouragement and a gentle tug on his collar. His
young bark did some tugging of its own on Jake's heart, earning a smile from a
jaded soldier. He hadn’t thought he had one left.
He pushed farther
into the bushes, conceding that the only way to get the dog loose was to get
wet himself. The poor mutt shivered hard enough to knock his tags together.
Jake could relate, having been there a time or two.
Working his tall
frame closer, his slacks were soaked as the slush seeped through the cloth. The
snow that dropped on the back of his neck quickly melted from his body heat and
dampened his skin. He slipped his hand around the dog collar and tugged again, receiving
a louder howl and whimper.
“Are you hurt, boy?
Is that why can’t move? All right, then. I might as well send my coat to the
cleaners, too.” He stretched onto his belly, sliding forward until he could
reach the hind quarters of the dog, which had gone completely still. “What’s
wrong besides me calling you a boy when you’re clearly a girl?”
Nothing felt out of
place or broken. The pup’s whine was consistent. The harder he pulled her
toward freedom, the more the dog pressed backward.
The leash was caught
on something or the pup was injured. He pulled hard and he still couldn’t get
the leash free. Blindly he followed the leather to an icy death grip of
fingers, causing him to instantly retreat. His jerky reaction scared the dog,
causing her to struggle harder in the dark.
“It’s okay,
sweetheart. Take it easy and I’ll get you out of here.” Jake kept a firm grip
on the collar, snagged the flashlight from his pocket and flipped the switch to
take a closer look at the body.
The glassy look of
the dead took him back to Afghanistan. He’d experienced that look more than
once in his military career. Male or female, it always twisted his gut.
Then it hit him…the
smell of death. Faint, most likely because of the cold, but there wafting into
his brain and triggering more memories that he wanted to forget. Once
experienced, he could never forget.
The call hadn’t
been a prank. The woman’s coat was covered in white. She’d been there all
night. He’d flattened the crime scene getting to the dang dog, which wouldn’t
or couldn’t leave her side.
“Hold on there,
girl. I’m not going to hurt you. Give me a second here.” He couldn’t remove the
leash from the body. So he’d have to disconnect the dog.
Expensive leash
with a word etched into the wet leather. “Dallas? That your name or just a
souvenir?” He kept a grip on the Lab with his left hand and unsnapped the leash
from the dog harness with his right.
He crooned,
attempting to calm the shivering mass of fur. He peeled his jacket off in the
cramped space, the sharp broken twigs poking him with every shrug. He draped
Dallas and shoved his coat under the dog’s legs. He took one last look into a
frozen face. There was something about her, or the situation.
Something he
couldn’t put a name to. Or maybe just a habit he’d started with the first
investigation he’d had as a military cop. He didn’t want to make the vow. He
had a clean slate but couldn’t stop the words, “Whoever did this won’t get
away. And I’ll take care of your pup, ma’am. That’s a promise.”
Unable to move,
Dallas didn’t struggle much covered in his jacket. Jake pulled her free,
shimmying under the fence instead of scaling it, dragging the pup under after.
Then he sat on a fallen tree, holding Dallas in his lap. He began to feel the
cold as the wind whipped through the secluded jogging path that viewed the
spillway overlook and hit his wet clothes.
Dallas made a
unique noise halfway between a howl and whine.
“It’ll be okay,
girl. We’ll find you another owner before too long.” He stroked the pup’s head
and she quieted just a bit. Her tags indicated a rabies vaccination and that
she’d been chipped, but they’d need animal control to access the information.
Jake tried his
radio. Nothing. He took his cell from its carrier on his hip. Nothing. He moved
up the hill until he had reception and dialed.
“Dallas 911. What’s
your emergency?”
“This is Detective
Jake Craig, badge 5942. I have an expired subject. Bus required at Garland and
Winstead parking lot WTR 114 marker.”
“An ambulance has
been dispatched to your location. Do you need me to connect you to homicide?”
the dispatcher asked.
“Thanks, but we’re
already here.”
“Understood
Detective Craig.”
Protocol required
him to ask for the ambulance, but he knew it wasn’t necessary. The woman frozen
to the ground a couple of feet away was dead and had been most of the night.
He’d seen the dead before. Many times over and under too many circumstances to
remember them all. He didn’t want to remember.
Life was easier
when he didn’t.
The pup tipped her soggy
face up at him, and then rested on his thigh. Jake looked around the crushed
crime scene as he dialed his partner’s cell. “I don’t know about you, Dallas,
but it’s going to be a helluva long day.”
If you haven’t read The Marine’s Last Defense…I
hope you’ll give it a try.
Here’s what a reader thought
"Marines Last Defense grabs you on the first page and the
action never lets up. Oh man- this is a great story brimming with page-turning
excitement. The further into it I got – the faster I wanted to read. I loved
the steadily building attraction between the characters as they tried to clear
her name and deal with the killer who was on their trail. The book is
fast-paced action at its best. The author brings very gripping tension to her
stories and this one heads the list. The emotions, the fear, the action, the
hope these two people experience is enthralling and you will be rooting for
them. Clear your schedule for a while because once you pick up this story- you
will not put it down.” ~Deanna
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USA Today Bestselling author ANGI MORGAN writes
Intrigues where honor and danger collide with love. Her work is a multiple
contest finalist and Publishers Weekly best-seller. She drags her dogs –and
husband– around Texas for research road trips so she can write off her camera.
They now have a map with highlighted roads they’ve traveled. Every detour
somehow makes it into a book.
~ ~ ~
DON’T FORGET TO ENTER THE GIVEAWAY
by leaving a comment for the $5.00 gift
card.
Giveaway at midnight FebMarchruary 7th. Contestants enter drawing by leaving a
comment. Don’t forget to check back to see who won!
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