Please welcome Graylin Fox and her book, Smolder.
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Clinical psychologist Ellie Quinn is starting a brand new job at a hospital in Savannah. She doesn’t expect the amorous attentions of quick-tempered ex-cop Owen Mata and handsome Russian surgeon Dmitri Komarnitskaia. But choosing between the two is soon the least of her worries. When she persuades a battered woman to leave her husband, Ellie finds herself the target of a sinister serial killer, and something about the case is making Owen increasingly unstable. Only with Dmitri does she feel safe, but if she can’t bring her psychological skills to bear to catch the killer, she won’t be the only one in danger.
Excerpt:
The alarm clock woke me up, but it didn’t have a way to remind me I had moved to a new home. So after I bumped into the first two walls, I found the light switch and headed to get cleaned up. After a long, hot shower and a huge mug of coffee, I was off to start my new job. The three-mile drive to the hospital took thirty-five minutes. You can’t call it a rush hour if no one is moving faster than twenty-five miles per hour. The parking deck was nearly empty, so I had plenty of room to pop the trunk and pull out the boxes I needed to take to my office. The offer of help that I barely heard with my head in the trunk registered enough for me to stop and turn around. Oh, my.
Damn, he’s gorgeous.
He stood a few feet away, yet I still had to look up to find his eyes. They were the deep blue of the ocean with gold flecks that made them sparkle even in the dim light of the parking deck. His black hair was smooth and perfectly placed except for one straggler that hung down just over his brow. I wanted to reach up and run my fingers through it. He had broad shoulders and stood confidently as I let my gaze linger over his strong, lean form. His smile indicated that he was enjoying the attention. The hand he held out to me was tipped with perfectly manicured nails. I saw no wedding ring on his left hand and was relieved. My knees were weak from the brief encounter and I wanted to know more about him.
“Thank you,” I replied. “I could use an extra pair of hands. But I’m not quite sure where I’m going just yet. I only know the hallway where my office is located.”
“It is next to mine.”
His sexy Russian accent was beautiful as he spoke softly, almost in a whisper. My body responded with longing I hadn’t felt in a year. I think I swayed toward him as he spoke.
“I’m Dr. Komarnitskaia,” he added.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Ellie Quinn. Psychology.”
We shook hands and his were smooth and strong. I felt breathless and weak-kneed. As someone who talks for a living I’m rarely out of words, but looking into his eyes I had trouble finding air or words and momentarily fumbled for my reply. The last time I’d felt like that had been in high school, when my crush had asked me to move out of the way at the lockers.
“I should warn you, I’ll mangle your last name.”
He smiled and my knees buckled. I leaned back against the car for support. Reaching behind me, I grabbed the edge of the trunk and tried to make it look intentional. His eyes sparkled in a way that told me he’d noticed, but he didn’t mention it.
“You can just call me Dr. K. Everyone does. I’m a critical care surgeon.”
That smile could sell anything.
“Okay, Dr. K it is, then.” I smiled up at him and he winked at me.
With my box in his hands, we left the parking deck and he used his access card to get us through the doctors’ entrance. I have to admit it felt a little cool to use that door. I’m not big on superficial things, but I earned this degree and I’m glad there are perks that go with it.
As he stood waiting for me to go through the door he held, I got a very good look at him. He stood at least six feet tall and his black hair brushed the top of his collar. He was tall, with a straight back, as his short black hair brushed the top of his collar, his hips barely moved. There was an easy grace to his movements. It reminded me of an old karate teacher I’d had, who moved carefully yet made it look casual and unimposing. People in the hallways got out of his way and he made the long walk effortlessly. I had to move fast to keep up with him, so I had to catch my breath when we got to my office door.
My nameplate was already there on the wall. Human resources had given me the keys when I was last there, so I fished them out of my pocket and opened the door. Dr. K turned the lights on, and I was impressed.
A full-sized waiting room with leather furniture, toy boxes for the kids, a flat-screen TV on the wall and a bookcase. It all fit easily within the space. The door at the back was to my private office and I headed that way. The smell of oak hit me when I walked into the room. Bookshelves lined the right wall and a mahogany desk took up one-third of the floor space. The back wall was half-windowed and looked out over a courtyard. The fountain looked as if it hadn’t worked in decades, but it was peaceful. Ivy covered the wide base and stretched up to wind around the three tiers that now sprouted clover instead of water. Birds hovered around the top as if they were waiting for flowers to bloom. I placed my purse on the desk and turned to find Dr. K staring at me from the door.
“Thank you for your help—you can place the box on the desk and I’ll get to it when I get back from orientation.” I smiled at him, the best one I could muster given that my stomach was full of nervous butterflies.
“I’m just to the left on the hallway—feel free to stop by anytime,” he said as he put the box down and headed for the door. “Anytime.”
I watched his tall, sexy form leave the room before I turned to grab a notebook and pen and headed to the conference room for orientation. I don’t know who came up with the concept of orientation, but they should have to pay dearly for it. I could have read the entire manual in an hour, but instead I spent a whole Friday listening to hospital board members blow smoke up our butts about the great work they did, how wonderful they were, and the contributions they’d made to get onto the board. I’m not much for blowing your own horn, so these people made me want to find the pharmacy, and quick.
The lunch was the standard conference sandwich with soggy bread, chewy ham, and stale potato chips. At least there was plenty of coffee to rinse the taste out of my mouth.
The last presenter was a former detective from Atlanta. He was now the head of hospital security. If you built a stereotype for compact and powerful, it would be Security Chief Owen Mata. From where I sat, he looked about five feet ten, dressed casually in slacks and a polo shirt that accentuated his bodybuilder’s form. His blue eyes looked angry when he talked about safety, almost as if he took it personally when people didn’t follow the rules. His light-brown hair was unruly, with curls that poked out each time he ran his hand over his head.
Damn, I need help.
Graylin Fox is a multi-published author and poet. She began writing poetry in 1993 with her first poem published in 1995. In 2008, her characters demanded a larger format and she began to expand her talents into the short fiction market.
Decadent Publishing published her short story, Coming Home, in January 2011. In July of 2011 Decadent Publishing released Your Biggest Fan, a psychological thriller. Her series, Summer Fae, began with Contagion in April 2011. This series continued with Bloodlines, a novella in September 2012. The final installment of the series, The Legacy, will be out in 2013.
Her first full length novel, Smolder, about a Hospital Psychologist who finds love while dodging a killer, has a May 9, 2013 release date.
She lives in a marsh off the eastern coast with plants that struggle to survive on her “happy muse” weeks and a tiny cat runs the place. Graylin can be found at GraylinFox.com and contacted at GraylinWrites@gmail.com.
Thanks for having me over, Sara!