What better time for a good suspense novel than on a cold winter day? Out for Blood isn’t a Christmas story, in fact it’s set in the middle of summer, but it is about loss, anger, separation from God, and restoration, so it would be an uplifting and engaging story to give to a loved one this season.
Dialysis nurse, Danielle Battershawn’s, life is turned upside down when her identical twin is murdered. As she strives to deal with yet another death, the killer sets his sights on eliminating her. Can handsome security consultant, Tyler Covington, keep her alive?
Under the cloak of darkness, the man donned latex gloves. He picked the lock on the back door to Janine’s house and tiptoed over the threshold. The soft fragrance of her perfume permeated the air. Such a shame. Inquisitive mongrel. They could’ve shared an exciting time together, but she had to play buttinski and stick her beak into his business, cutting short their love affair. Anger threatened to engulf him, but he shook it off and turned his attention to his search.
In the living room, he pulled books off the shelves, thumbed through them, and overturned the bookcases. He slashed furniture cushions and dug through the foam, then ripped up the corners of the carpeting. As small as the drive was, the witch could’ve hidden it anywhere. He pulled her antique glassware off the fireplace and broke them open. Empty.
After he pulled pictures off the walls and slashed open the backs, he moved on to the air vents. He unscrewed each one, stuck his hand inside the duct, and felt around.
Cursing, the man moved from room to room, dumping out contents of cabinets, drawers, the dresser, and desk. He turned over the furniture and checked the backsides and underneath.
In the bathroom, he checked under the cabinets and behind the mirror. Where did the conniving broad hide the flash drive? He slashed her bed to ribbons, dug through the stuffing, and pulled out handfuls of the cotton batting, but found nothing.
He slammed his fist through the drywall. “Stupid witch.” He composed himself and explored the entire house once again.
Slipping out the front door, he removed his latex gloves and stuffed them in his pocket. As he wove through the sprawling subdivision, he hummed the tune to “Death’s Head.”
Knowing Janine, she gave it to her sister for preservation. He would search Dani’s house and, after he had the drive, he’d dispose of her. Doing away with both of the meddlesome twins would solve two problems for him. He allowed himself a smile at the thought of carousing with Dani before he got rid of her.
Not many would suspect, but our little Christmas angel, Gracie, loves a thriller-diller of a mystery novel. So, she was very excited about interviewing Marcy who writes suspense on virtually every page.
Gracie: What is your favorite Christmas carol and why? Do you have a favorite performing artist who performs that song?
Marcy: Wow, this is a really difficult question to answer. I love Christmas carols and am constantly finding new artists that I just love. I spend a tremendous amount of time driving so as soon as XM Radio starts playing Christmas music, I flip between Country Christmas, Holly, and Holiday Traditions. One of my new favorites is Little Drummer Boy performed by Pentatonix. A friend sent me the YouTube link for this acapella version. The singers were incredible.
Gracie: Are your Christmas decorations traditional, or do they have a more modern flare. Perhaps they’re eclectic? Do you have a particular theme? Or does each and every ornament and decoration have a personal meaning to you?
Marcy: I’m probably what you would call eclectic. My ornaments and decorations have a meaning to me, though to the casual observer, it looks like an odd mix. I have a beautiful ceramic nativity scene that my mother made for her mother. When my grandmother passed away, Mom took the set and displayed it every year. When Mom passed away, I took it. Now this beautiful nativity scene reminds me of them.
Gracie: Tell us about your fondest Christmas memory.
Marcy: Christmas Eve 1997 I drove to my boyfriend’s house to pick him up for the Christmas Eve church service, then we would go to my mom’s house for a Christmas Eve celebration with family. Dennis and I had been dating for many years, but we were both divorced and a little skittish about the thought of marriage. While we were standing in his kitchen talking for a few minutes, he hugged me and said something about getting married. I cracked a joke. He took my hands and said, “Marcy, I’m serious.” We were married the next Valentine’s Day.
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