Lost
By Pandora Richardson
By Pandora Richardson
Amelia Jones Private Detective Series, Book 1
Genre: Mystery,
Paranormal
ASIN: B00802VL80
Number of pages: 172
Word Count: 61,000
Purchase Links: http://amzn.to/AmeliaJones
Book Description:
Amelia Jones finds her world turned upside down after meeting a wealthy client who needs evidence of her husband’s infidelity. Even though Amelia's offered a lot of money to go undercover in order to catch him, the situation is more than she can handle and unlike anything the young, virginal detective has ever experienced. Deep down Amelia knows that she should not accept the case, but the allure of money is too hard to resist. Distracted by a series of mysterious events and delicious eye candy, Amelia is lost with choices that threaten to reveal secrets that should remain hidden.
Short
Excerpt: (From Chapter 6) Anxiety, fear, panic, and regret sloshed around
in my head in an unsavory mix, heightening my emotional instability and forcing
me to cling to my humanity, which was slipping away by the moment. Years of
practice and what I liked to think of as discipline had been thrown away in
Matthew’s office. My mind drifted back in time. I lay writhing on the floor in
pain among scattered stuffed animals, dolls, and other
toys. My screams penetrated the walls of our home like a fire alarm and my parents burst into the room. Papa D held me, wiping away the sweat from my forehead and whispering words of comfort in my ear as I panted and groaned from the pain.
“Princess, I’m here,” he said while stroking my hair. “We have to call someone, Derrick!” Papa T shrieked with wild, worried eyes. “We need to relax and focus on helping our daughter, Thomas,” Papa D said, his voice calm. After he and Papa T exchanged a few words,
Papa T exhaled and joined Papa D by my side. A sharp pain shot down my spine like a bolt of lightning and forced me away from my impromptu stroll down memory lane. The part of me that I thought of as my beast worked it’s way closer to the surface of my consciousness, and the more I resisted, the more pain I felt. I struggled to subdue the force threatening to burst out. I frantically searched the sixth floor corridors for solitude. I would have preferred a hasty exit, but feared that I would change before I made it out the elevator. I had to fight the change in private. My bones ached, my
muscles vibrated, and my knees buckled from the rush of energy surging through me. The force was rearranging my body and winning the battle against my humanity. Every nerve ending felt as if it was at war. Sweat trickled down my face and back. I had to get out of the corridor. What were you thinking, Amelia? I thought repeatedly as self-loathing set in. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled onto my cheeks. I hated myself for falling prey to Matthew’s seduction. I hated myself for ignoring the red flags and allowing the barriers of my consciousness to be broken. Those
barriers were there to protect me; allowing their collapse in a moment of passion was unforgivable. It wouldn’t be much longer before I reached the point of no return. The beast in me was dancing at the edges of my humanity, anxious and excited, as if it were an actual separate, sentient being and not just a mental fabrication of my other nature. I paused to lean against a wall. A stomach cramp hit me with the force of a sledgehammer and almost dropped me to one knee. The muscles in my legs contracted and released involuntarily. The longer I stayed in the open corridor, the more dangerous I was to everyone.
toys. My screams penetrated the walls of our home like a fire alarm and my parents burst into the room. Papa D held me, wiping away the sweat from my forehead and whispering words of comfort in my ear as I panted and groaned from the pain.
“Princess, I’m here,” he said while stroking my hair. “We have to call someone, Derrick!” Papa T shrieked with wild, worried eyes. “We need to relax and focus on helping our daughter, Thomas,” Papa D said, his voice calm. After he and Papa T exchanged a few words,
Papa T exhaled and joined Papa D by my side. A sharp pain shot down my spine like a bolt of lightning and forced me away from my impromptu stroll down memory lane. The part of me that I thought of as my beast worked it’s way closer to the surface of my consciousness, and the more I resisted, the more pain I felt. I struggled to subdue the force threatening to burst out. I frantically searched the sixth floor corridors for solitude. I would have preferred a hasty exit, but feared that I would change before I made it out the elevator. I had to fight the change in private. My bones ached, my
muscles vibrated, and my knees buckled from the rush of energy surging through me. The force was rearranging my body and winning the battle against my humanity. Every nerve ending felt as if it was at war. Sweat trickled down my face and back. I had to get out of the corridor. What were you thinking, Amelia? I thought repeatedly as self-loathing set in. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled onto my cheeks. I hated myself for falling prey to Matthew’s seduction. I hated myself for ignoring the red flags and allowing the barriers of my consciousness to be broken. Those
barriers were there to protect me; allowing their collapse in a moment of passion was unforgivable. It wouldn’t be much longer before I reached the point of no return. The beast in me was dancing at the edges of my humanity, anxious and excited, as if it were an actual separate, sentient being and not just a mental fabrication of my other nature. I paused to lean against a wall. A stomach cramp hit me with the force of a sledgehammer and almost dropped me to one knee. The muscles in my legs contracted and released involuntarily. The longer I stayed in the open corridor, the more dangerous I was to everyone.
Author Bio:
Pandora Richardson
grew up in Northern New Jersey with a pen and a pad stuck in her hand.
Throughout her childhood she was either writing the next great American Novel
or painting the next Mona Lisa. She always imagined that she would be famous as
a writer, an artist, or both. However, life eventually got in the way of her
dreams and Pandora found herself working as a consultant in Washington, DC where
she now resides with her canine familiar, Loki. The past several years have
found Pandora once again committed to writing, this time with her fingers glued
to a keyboard. When she’s not creating the next bestseller or engaged in the
thrilling misadventures of the Rat Race, Pandora loves to curl up on her sofa
reading the next Vampire, Shape-shifter, Wizard, Zombie or Romance novel from
one of her favorite authors.
Facebook: authorpandorarichardson
Goodreads: Pandora Richardson
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