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When Josie stumbles upon the body of a murdered woman, she runs to Deputy Gordon Wolfe, a disfigured man hiding behind his badge. His shy smile and affection for dogs make her reconsider what she’s running from.
Now she’s on the run from a serial killer and her own heart. But when her friend is abducted and Cain appears to be the murder weapon, Josie’s attempt to save them both lands her in the killer’s lair. Josie’s strength and Cain’s loyalty are tested to the limit as they fight for their lives. Facing a killer is one thing, but facing her love for Gordon is Josie’s greatest challenge.
“Time for presents,” Glenda said, taking the empty bowl from my hands and replacing it with a gift. It was an envelope from Rex. Inside the card was a hundred dollar bill and a note saying my classes deserved a bonus.
From Darby was an elegant set of antique, leather-bound books by Charles Dickens. Allen and Glenda gave me an insulated winter coat. Just my style, too. Nothing fancy, just practical and durable. They were coming to know me better than I knew them.
Tucker’s gift was a set of brass knuckles. I slipped it over my fingers, made a fist, and grinned. He rubbed his tender nose. “You should have broken it. With those you would have.”
Gordon’s gift came in velvet box. Inside was a necklace. A perfectly rendered, silver Border Collie hung on a fine chain.
“Gordon, I love it!” I lifted my hair so he could put it on me.
He fastened the clasp and kissed the nape of my neck, giving me more shivers. “Mom always said I had good taste.”
“It looks lovely on you,” Glenda said and handed me the last gift. It was wrapped in plain brown paper with no tag or writing.
“Who’s this from?”
No one owned up to it. “Open it and see,” Allen said.
I opened the paper to reveal a cardboard box. I lifted the lid.
Carefully arranged on top of a pair of my white cotton, blood-stained panties were three snapshots. One showed a woman hanging laundry on a clothes line. Her straight, jet black hair gleamed on the shoulders of her hot pink shirt. The second was of her in a cell, weeping and terrified, wearing nothing but my underwear.
The third one was of me in the town square on the Fourth of July. In it, I was taking a lick from my ice cream cone. I recalled the moment with perfect clarity. I was listening to the band, thinking things were going to be A-okay. That was about thirty seconds before the Bradley Swanson circus. Destiny was penned below the image.
“What is it?” Tucker asked, starting to rise from his seat. With an inarticulate cry, I thrust the box at him and fled the room. I didn’t stop until I was at the back of Cain’s kennel, my arms wrapped around the big dog’s neck and my face pressed to his scarred shoulder.
The box did not contain a photo of the woman’s corpse. If the killer had recently taken her, she might still be alive. If she was still alive, she was being raped. If she was still alive, death waited for her. Death by dog.
DJ Davis is a Colorado native and the rugged high country sets the scene for her stories. When she's not writing, she can be found hiking with her dogs, photographing the wildlife, or camping with her husband. A Great Dane runs her life.
A portion of each sale of her novel "Courageous Cain" will be donated to Big Bones Canine Rescue in Windsor, Colorado. Help us help big dogs in need.
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/DJ-Davis/e/B014E0OZE8/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1
Buy the book at Amazon or http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/courageous-cain-dj-davis/1122568586?ean=2940152288209.
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