Sydney Raferty Lord claims her husband died on their wedding day. Not that his body washes up on the rocks where he supposedly had his accident. Not that she can prove she ever married the man in the first place. When his body is found in the woods, Sydney claims this is not the Kenneth Lord she married! Benno DeMartino, Kenneth’s lifelong friend, is torn between loyalty for the dead man and an undeniable attraction to the supposed widow. Maybe he's crazy, because Benno aims to find the murderer and in the process help prove Sydney innocent.
With more than seven million books in print, Patricia Rosemoor is fascinated with "dangerous love" – combining romance with danger. She has written various forms of romantic suspense and paranormal romantic thrillers, even romantic horror, bringing a different mix of thrills and chills and romance to each book. She believes strongly in breaking down barriers to write crossover fiction that appeals to a large and varied audience.
Patricia has won a Golden Heart from Romance Writers of America and two Reviewers Choice and two Career Achievement Awards from RT BOOKreviews, and in her other life, she teaches Popular Fiction and Suspense-Thriller Writing, credit courses in the Fiction Writing Department of Columbia College Chicago. Five of her former students are now published in novel-length fiction.
Look for Books 2 & 3
Quid Quo Pro:
SQUARING ACCOUNTS
NO HOLDS BARRED
Quid Pro Quo:
PUSHED TO THE LIMIT
Patricia Rosemoor
PROLOGUE
THE ROOM FELT small and dank, the tension-riddled atmosphere cloying. Suppressing any visible anxiety so he wouldn’t betray himself, he stubbed out his cigarette and clasped his hands in a fist that collided with the scarred table.
“What did you get on her?” he softly demanded of Lester Freidman.
The erstwhile accountant threw a quick, nervous look over his shoulder. The guard covering the door nodded and turned his back to them. Freidman slipped his briefcase onto the table and unsnapped the locks. From within, he retrieved the report and held out the bound sheaf of papers to his employer.
The folder was opened; a photocopy of a newspaper clipping lay on top. Two women posed together.
Fingers heavy with malice traced the less glamorous woman’s outline. She was the one. A fringe of bangs framed large eyes – odd, pale eyes that made her appear a bit fey. The face was rounded, the nose snub. Her build was slight. Unimposing, that’s what she was. Nothing extraordinary about her, especially not when compared to her dazzling companion.
“This is going to be almost too easy.” He began paging through the report.
“You’re sure you want to go through with this?” Freidman asked warily.
Movement stopped and eyes filled with rancor made the henchman squirm. “That’s a damn stupid question. I’ve waited too long as it is. Besides, what have I got to lose?”
His subsequent laugh that echoed through the room whipped the guard’s head around and made Lester Freidman go pale.
For a brief moment, he tightened his grip on the report. No one on his payroll would dare pity Sydney Raferty.