Meet Santiago Ruiz - Stranger Danger now available from Evernight Publishing!
Mottled
clouds marred an early morning summer sky, one as blue as worn denim. The drab brown façade of the apartment
building, one of six units, loomed and seemed somehow ominous. He counted the windows and came up with
unlucky thirteen. Was it an omen? He
wondered and then rejected the notion. Santiago didn’t need a sign to remind
him he’d run out of luck. If his
situation wasn’t dire, he wouldn’t be here or consider contacting her, but he
had nowhere else to go. He hated to
involve her and wasn’t even sure she’d help.
Hell, he doubted she’d recognize him after fifteen years. His immediate goal, however, was to keep
breathing, and if he didn’t find a hiding place soon, his chances of staying
alive would be zero. - from Stranger Danger, Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy, Evernight Publishing...just $3.99.
Ideas come from many directions and sometimes the best ones
slam into my consciousness with the force of a home run. My latest, Stranger Danger, out from Evernight Publishing on January 31st,
is one of those unexpected winning ideas.
The title came to me first, simple and yet evocative. It’s rare I begin with nothing but a title
but when I do, the outcome is usually positive.
I always check around to see if other works of fiction share the title
and if so, I normally junk the notion and go back to the drawing board. No one else had used the title so I decided
it would be the name of my next work.
The rest of the idea came to me in slow stages. One summer’s day while I was parked outside
the apartment complex where my daughters’ friend lived, waiting to provide mom
taxi service, the idea of a man in trouble came to me. I could almost see him, bursting out of the
tree line and making a dead run for the apartments, seeking help or
sanctuary. But who was he and why? Those
were the questions I had to answer before I could start writing.
A few days later, I’d figured out he was Santiago Ruiz,
undercover as Javier Morales and deep undercover to infiltrate the infamous M13
gang. And, he’d shared the fact he was
about to seek shelter and help from the love of his life, widowed Sara English,
a home girl from his native East LA, a woman he hadn’t seen in fifteen years.
I made a trip down to Bentonville, Arkansas a few days later
for a little weekend getaway and bam, I decided it was the perfect place to
begin my story. So I did. Stranger
Danger is the end result.
It’s my first publisher backed release of 2014 and I think my readers will enjoy it. I’m back with Evernight Publishing, my very first publisher and although I never stopped working with them, it’s wonderful to be home where I fit and where I see a bright future ahead. As a writer, I can recommend them highly as professional and top notch all the way. And as a reader, I’m pleased to say I love their titles. Evernight has an amazing group of talented authors writing in diverse romance subgenres.
Here’s the gorgeous cover, the blurb, and a taste from Stranger Danger.
Sara
English built a life for herself far from her native Los Angeles. As a widow and proprietor of a florist shop
in small town America, she lives a mundane life but she’s never forgotten her
first love, Santiago Ruiz or the way he hurt her. When he shows up at her door early one
morning, he’s a stranger but the old attraction hasn’t died. Last she knew, he was a cop but now he’s
sporting a gang tattoo on his back and he’s on the run. When she freaks out, Santiago swears he’s
been in deep cover as Javier Morales for two years but his cover was blown and
he’s in danger. As their reunion heats
up, the drama reaches a new level when her apartment windows are shattered in a
burst of gunfire. They go on the run,
first to an isolated mobile home, then to a casino, and then to Tulsa, Oklahoma
where a showdown with the gang’s leader is inevitable. Unless Santiago can find a way to change
things, he’s a dead man. Sara’s
committed to the long haul and hopes for a happy ending – if they can live long
enough to find one.
Excerpt:
“I don’t know what you want or
what you’re selling,” she said in a firm tone. “But I’m not interested.”
“Wait!” He lifted one hand and
caught the edge of the door. His body
odor, sour and sweaty, filled her nose and she frowned. Some homeless guy begging for a handout first
thing in the morning was way too much to bear, but she wasn’t daunted or
afraid. Growing up in East LA had made
her tough. “Beat it, hombre,” she
said. “You’re not welcome here.”
The man lifted his face, and his
eyes met hers, blacker than sin and darker than night. Sara stared back, moved despite herself. An odd sense of familiarity prickled,
although she’d swear she’d never seen this man before. He sighed and spoke. “La muñequita, por favor.”
She recognized his voice,
would’ve known it blindfolded. Stunned,
Sara stared. She peeled away the layers of facial hair, erased the grime, and
factored in the years. She recognized
him now and wondered why she hadn’t on first sight. Once, he’d been as close to her as
anyone. Once, she’d known him better
than her own soul, and now she spoke his name without thought. “Santiago!”
He answered in the Spanish of his
youth, a tongue she knew too although she wasn’t Hispanic. “Si, la muñequita.”
Little doll. No one but Santiago Ruiz had ever used the
nickname. He belonged, however, to the old life, to East LA, to California, not
her new life in Bentonville. “What are
you doing here?” she asked.
A door creaked open down the
corridor and a burst of laughter echoed.
Before Sara could react, Santiago pushed through the half-open door,
shut it, and locked it. He dropped a worn canvas backpack onto the floor.
Flabbergasted, she stared at
him. “What’re you doing?” she said, half
angry. “You show up at my door looking like hell, stinking like some gnarly
refuge from a homeless shelter and shove your way inside? What gives,
Santiago?”
Until now, she hadn’t noticed the
way he was panting or how agitated he seemed.
He pulled her against him, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her,
hard and deep. His lips burned unholy
fire against her mouth and against her will, every nerve ending in her body
sang a rock and roll tune. His tongue
forced entry into her mouth and he French kissed her until she couldn’t
breathe. Heat erupted and spread all the
way down to her toes. A dizzy sweetness
rushed her veins until his rank stench offended her nose so much she broke
free.
“God, you smell. What was that, anyway?”
“Adrenalin, mostly,” he
said. “I’m sorry, Sara. I didn’t plan to kiss you. It just happened.”
Her legs trembled, unsteady
enough that she decided she should sit down.
Sara settled into an armchair with a sigh. “What’s going on? Why are you
here? And what’s happened? Are you homeless or what?”
His eyes pierced her composure
with the keen stare she remembered well. “I’m not homeless although I probably
look and smell the part. I’m in danger,
Sara. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious, but I didn’t have anywhere else
to go. I don’t know anyone I can trust in Bentonville except you.”
Santiago’s presence rattled her
ever fragile composure, and his story didn’t make any sense. “Okay,” she said
after a few moments of thought. “I get that you’re in trouble, but I don’t
understand. Why are you in danger?”
Without blinking, he said, “I
can’t tell you that, la muñequita. Or I shouldn’t. It would just put you in danger, too.”
She’d
forgotten many things, how sexy she’d always found him, how beautiful his eyes were,
and how much he could infuriate her.
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