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Short Story-While You Were Gone

May 5, 2021 by Angela Breen

For those of you who have read What’s in a Name? and are patiently waiting for my next book (coming soon, promise!) Here’s a tale to keep you scared and entertained in the meantime.

Short Story-While You Were Gone

I woke with a start. My eyes wide, my heart thundered against my ribs, sucking air greedily into my burning lungs. Adrenaline tingeling thorugh my fingertips ready for action.

A sound woke me. What was it? Lightning flashed, filling the room with a blue glow. Everything was as it should be. My new glass top table and wrought iron chairs by the window. A bouquet of flowers from my husband sat on my dresser. I force myself to close my eyes and focus. The sounds of the house greeted me. The ice maker, the steady drip of the leaky faucet my husband was supposed to fix before he left for his current mission. The slight pitter-patter of rain on the window and a rumble of thunder in the distance. I almost breathe a sigh of relief thinking it was thunder when I realize one sound I did not hear. The steady breathing of the dog. She was old and tended to wheeze with every breath. My eyes shot open.

Silently I pull back the sheet and slip out of bed. The cool air greeting my bare legs as my feet meet the carpet. I enter the hallway through the open door and take a moment to check on each of my children. The first, nearly three years old now, is snoring soundly. I then enter my youngest’s bedroom. Standing over his crib, I take a moment to note the rise and fall of his tiny chest. I count my blessings before leaving the room and closing the door.

My nerves on edge I turn to the right and head down the stairs. I skip the third step from the top knowing it squeaks. Before I descend any farther I see the dark outline of the dog. All that over nothing. I smile at myself, making a note to tell my sister about it over coffee in the morning.

I take one last look at the dog. A flash of lightning illuminates the room. My smile fades. A pink tranquilizer dart sticking out of her shoulder. A shadow moves. I return quickly and silently to my bedroom. I throw my body pillow down on the bed and throw the sheet over it. I was about to go to the closet to retrieve the .45 caliber handgun we keep loaded for just such occasions when I hear the stair creak. Third from the top. No time. I sink back into the shadows. Right next to the open doorway flush against the wall. The cold seeps into the uncovered skin of shoulders. The figure entered the room like a shadow. He was large. Nearly two hundred pounds on a frame that was easily six feet tall. He paused before the bed. He cocked his head. And pointed a gun towards what he thought was me. That was until another flash of lightning revealed the truth of what I had done. He ripped the sheet back to be sure. He turned around and his angry eyes met mine. Now I needed him to come to me. Please god, let him get close enough. I let a tear fall from my eye, to lure him closer. At least that’s what I tell myself. I picture my husband returning from defending his country to find his family massacred. I can’t let that happen. It would destroy him.

As the assailant approached, I saw him pointing the gun at my babies in my mind’s eye. I took a deep breath as he placed the silencer between my breasts. That’s right get in close.

He leaned in. “How did you know I was here?” He asked. The curiosity seemed too much for him.

“I heard the dog hit the floor,” I said realizing that was the sound that woke me. I threw my hands up, one grabbing the pistol right at the trigger and thrusting it up above my head, as my other grabbed the top making it unable to fire. I pulled back down ripping the weapon from his hands. Unfortunately, he was a professional and was not stunned long enough for me to get a shot off. He punched me hard in the chin. I heard my jaw crack, pain shooting through my face. Ignoring it, I moved to aim the gun at him. He grabbed me by my hair and threw me across the room. My elbow collided with the floor sending the gun flying. I rolled and was nearly on my feet when his foot met my ribs, lifting me off the floor. I stood before my lungs had a chance to find air again. I grabbed the glass table top from by the window as air filled my lungs sending pain through my chest. I smashed the table top over his head. He put his arms up to protect his head from the blow but the glass broke, cutting into him. A trail of blood trickled down his face and neck. I ran into the closet, grabbed the .45, and turned on him with a vengeance.

He saw the gun and turned from the entrance of the closet. I followed but he was gone. My stomach sank as I ran to the hallway. The door to the baby’s room was open. I entered the room with the gun down. He stood over the crib looking at my baby boy.

“Make no mistake,” I whispered through clenched teeth. My jaw aching. “I will kill you if you touch him.”

“I have no doubt.” He stated, turning to face me. “That’s why I wanted to kill you first.”

His words sent a new surge of adrenaline through me. I lifted the gun. And looked into his eyes. My finger pressing into the trigger, he flicked his wrist and pain shot through my shoulder. The force of the knife sliding into my arm pushed me back into the hall. He ran past me down the stairs. I couldn’t let him get away. I stood, blood poured down my arm the wound screamed with every movement. My ribs protested. I drew strength from my pain. I stumbled down the stairs only to find the front door open and no sign of him. I shut the door and headed cautiously to the kitchen. I grabbed the phone and put it to my ear. No dial tone. I needed to make it upstairs to my cell phone. He could still be in the house. He could come back.

As I reach the top step the adrenaline seems to be wearing off. The pain is almost too much. The darkness is creeping in, too much blood loss. I can barely keep my eyes open as I try to crawl to my bedroom. When I get there I get a bit of a second wind as I reach my cell phone and dial 911. The operator answers, no matter how hard I try to concentrate I cannot understand her. I give my location and ask for the police and an ambulance. She asks me something but I can’t understand it. I hang up the phone and dial my sister. She sounds groggy as she answers. I tell her to come get the boys and then the darkness creeps in. I can’t fight it anymore. I hear my sister’s voice as if I am underwater. I don’t know what she’s saying so I respond with. “Just come.” Before my eyes closed and the darkness takes me. Please, God, don’t let him come back.

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Chasing the Lead Sneak Peek!

April 26, 2021 by Angela Breen

Chasing the lead sneak peek

The following passage is the prologue from Chasing the Lead. No release date yet, but I’m ready announce the time frame. This book will be ready sometime in June and you’ll be able to purchase or win a signed paperback copy at RomanitConn 2021 in Connecticut in July! Buy your tickets now and I’ll see you there!

Prologue

Pain sliced through Police Chief Carl Shelling’s thigh before the sound of the shot registered in his ears. He gasped as he fought to free himself. His captor stood silently in the shadows like a coward. 

“Come out and face me, you prick!” he hurled the insults knowing they would have little effect. But what was he to do? All his money and power meant nothing now. In this moment, this shadow showed him exactly how powerless he was. 

A low rumble started in the man’s belly and rose out his throat. He cocked the gun again.

“Please,” Carl tried again. “I have money, I can give you anything you want.”

The man paused. “Anything?”

“Yes,” Carl said with a relieved laugh. “Yes, there isn’t anything in this world I can’t give you.”

The man stepped forward, the blue eyes behind the black ski-mask was familiar. That scared Carl more than the prospect of another gunshot wound. 

“Tell me.”

Carl shook his head. “Tell you what?”

“The kinds of things you can give me.”

“Anything, money, wealth, power, women or men, if that’s what you fancy—boys. You like little boys–I can get those.”

The man’s expression changed behind the mask. Carl watched with baited breath. Had he said the right thing? Or the wrong one? He couldn’t tell.

The man stood back, both hands on his gun as he looked at the safety. After what felt like an eternity, he pulled a photo out of his back pocket and showed it to Carl. 

His stomach fell at the family that stared back at him. 

“I want them.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with that.” Carl said as tears fell from his eyes. “I swear, I didn’t even know it was going down. “

“That’s funny,” he said leaning forward. “The last guy I killed said the same thing. He swore up and down that it was you who ordered the hit.”

Carl sucked in air as panic took hold of his chest and made it difficult to breath. He needed to get out of this. He pulled on his bindings. “Let me go you piece of shit! You can’t do this to me!”

“How many people have you sold, raped, or otherwise tortured and killed who’ve said the same damn thing?” He gave a sadistic laugh. “Hell, I’ll take your best estimate.”

“Fine kill me, you’ll never stop us, you’ll never get justice for that family. That and worse will happen to more people. Because we’ll never stop. There’s too much money in it. There are more of us than you can imagine. Some people count, you’re not one of em.”

The man eyed him. Calculating. He leaned over Carl’s seat putting his face within centimeters of Carl’s. “You misunderstand, Carl. I’m not here to get justice. I’m here to murder and kill and torture every single one of you assholes.” He laughed as he removed the mask. “Killing me–going after my family? That was your biggest mistake.”

“Y-y-you’re dead. I saw you die!”

“How many times you think you’ll have to do it before it sticks? I’m ready to die. Can you say as much?”

Want more…

If you want to read more be sure to join my email list to have the ebook delivered right to your inbox when it’s ready and for purchase information on this and other upcoming titles! When you sign up you’ll get a sample of my debut novel, What’s in a Name?

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