I’m very pleased to announce Mustang Sassy has recently placed fouth in the Silicon Valley – RWA Gotcha! Contest. Just finished revisions and now it’s off to Meredith Giordan at Berkley/Jove. Hope she likes! Here’s an excerpt…
Sass Hogan could put up with a lot of shit. Backbreaking work – no problem. Snide remarks – water off a duck’s back. Having to prove herself – every single day. But betrayal? Betrayal erupted in the pit of her stomach and seared the back of her throat, eliciting feelings that were so deep and primal, her reaction was instinctive. That good-for-nothing cheat!
She strode across the dark parking lot of the Snake Pit Saloon to her red Corvette Coupe and popped the trunk. The tire iron lay there beside her spare and Sass grabbed it, admiring its simple weight. She glanced up and looked around. Apart from the strains of music and laughter that slipped between the doors of the small town bar and the song of the crickets in the late summer grass, the parking lot was quiet.
With a backhand, she swiped at the tears on her cheeks as she slowly stalked up and down the rows of vehicles until she found what she was looking for, a blue ’67 Mustang Fastback. She paused to touch the gleaming paint, to slide her hand along the smooth finish of the beautifully rebuilt car. What she was about to do was wrong. Some part of her knew that. But there was another part – one she’d only met a few times, one that was even now clawing at her innards to get out – that insisted that what she was about to do would feel right. Oh, so right. Carlos needed to hurt as much as she did.
With one more glance around the parking lot, Sass raised the tire iron above her head, took a deep breath and swung it for all she was worth.
“Bastard!” The iron smashed the windshield.
“Lying-” The driver’s side window and door caved beneath the force of her blow.
“Cheating-” There was a popping sound as the headlights shattered.
“Scum of the earth!” Sass dragged the rough end of the iron along the passenger side, making a deep gouge in the shiny blue paint.
“This is for making me care-” One taillight shattered, the glass tinkling as it fell to the ground.
“This is for…” She couldn’t finish the sentence as the second taillight met a similar fate.
Leaning her frame on the iron, she panted heavily and surveyed the damage; the dented chrome hubcaps, the smashed rear window, the scratched doors and gouged side panels. She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut as some weird choking sensation threatened to take over. But with her eyes closed all she could see was Carlos’s hands cupping Tori’s butt. Tori’s double-D cups pressed against his chest. Carlos’s lips…
With a shake of her head, she climbed up on the hood and started to dance, a stomping, boot-grinding jig, making sure to dig the heels of her cowboy boots into the shiny paint and white stripes. Then she lifted the iron above her head and brought it down swiftly, butt first, denting the roof of the vehicle again and again and again.