Just doing a fly-by post today to wish everyone a wonderful Thanksgiving! My pies are made, turkey’s just about done, need to mash my potatoes and glaze my carrots and then we’ll be sitting down to some very yummy food. Have a great one, everybody!

Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You=2 0don’t have to be published to participate–just an writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.

_________________________________________

Once upon a time I dashed off a first chapter to enter into a contest from Harlequin American Romance. The characters popped into my head and took on a life of their own. But after I mailed off my entry, I immersed myself in writing suspense and never looked back. Nothing ever became of my contest entry, but I still love this story and hope to finish it one day.

Here’s the opening scene to The Reconstruction of Levi McKay:

Life in the fast lane had never moved so slow.

Levi McKay thunked his head against the leather seat of his Jaguar XJS and gunned the V-12 motor just to hear some noise. He’d made three wrong turns before stumbling upon the small rutted, sorry excuse for a driveway that led to an even sorrier excuse for a bridge strung across a deep ravine, before pulling up to the hulking Victorian house in front of him. Welcome to the Bates Motel.

He yanked the key out of the ignition, opened the door and unfolded himself from the low bucket seats with a groan. A sliver of sun sliced through the heavily wooded area that surrounded the house. A mosquito buzzed around his head and he slapped at it.

He listened for some sign of life—other than the chirping of birds, rustling of leaves and the lone mosquito that was out for his blood. But there was nothing. No thunderous roar of engines. No squealing of brakes. No shouts and jeers.

He took a deep, shaky breath, inhaling the warm, late afternoon breeze ripe with tree sap and leaves. The absence of fuel, burning rubber, and engine grease almost made him want to drop to his knees and cry like a newborn babe.

Curse Beau Braddock, anyway.  He glared at the note taped to the brass key in his hand. “You’ll love the house,” it said. “Three bedrooms, two baths, a huge kitchen, a fireplace to warm your butt, and five acres of nothing but nature. Get your head on straight. There’s always next season.”

Levi crumpled the note and shoved it in his pocket. This was supposed to be his season. His year to have NASCAR eating out of his hand and come away with the Cup. Instead, Beau had cut him from the team. Losing his ride was the equivalent of hacking off an arm. Only it hurt worse.

His hands shook as he reached for his cell phone. Why couldn’t he find his edge? Racing was his life. He was nothing without it. Nothing without the adrenaline rush and the frantic fast pace of the racing world. He flipped open his phone and pressed the one, speed-dialing Beau.

“Hey, Vi! You make it to Woodruff yet?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Beau’s cigar induced throaty voice cackled. “Isn’t she a beaut?”

Levi fixed his gaze on the sagging porch. “She’s a train wreck. Where the heck did you dig this place up?”

Beau laughed again. “I’m addicted to Ebay. It was too sweet a deal to pass up.”

Levi eyed the house critically. “Have you seen this place?”

“When’s the last time you swung a hammer, Vi? College? Fixing that place up will help you get your head on straight. I’ll tell you what, if you patch that house up…if you prove that you’re done with your reckless ways, I’ll reconsider.”

Fix-? Did Beau honestly expect him to sit here for the next three and a half months, repairing floorboards and stripping the ugly, faded yellow paint, and the devil knew what else?

“Come on, Beau. You made your point. I know I’ve done poorly the last couple of races, but I’m at the top of my game. Don’t cut me out of the action now.”

Beau sighed. “Kid, I’m doing you a favor.”

Levi winced at Beau’s use of kid. Would he never rate above the scraggly twelve-year-old who’d come sniffing at Braddock Motorsports back door hungry for an escape?

“The driving I saw out there last week could’ve gotten you killed,” Beau continued. “It was reckless and immature. And you know it. Keep on that path and I’ll be burying you next to my son.”

“This isn’t about Bobby!” The words exploded from his lips in a heated rush. Levi clenched his shaking hand into a fist, but it didn’t help calm the tremors. “Geez, Beau…I…I don’t…How do you get over losing your best friend?” He swallowed back the lump in his throat. Bobby’s death on the track nearly two months ago still had the power to make Levi break into the shakes. Telling Beau otherwise was like trying to sell him a seven-cylinder engine. “I’ll never get over it, Beau. But don’t make me sit out because of it. This sport is everything to me. You know that.”

Static crackled the line for a moment, then Beau’s voice returned, gruffer and thicker than before. “My son never did understand the difference between glory and the love of the sport. There’s more to life than a one-and-a-half-mile track and a checkered flag. He never had the chance to learn that lesson.”

“I get it, Beau. I do. But, this is my year.”

Levi hated the pleading in his voice. He wasn’t some pansy that had to beg for a spot. He’d earned it with sweat and grease.

He grit his teeth. “Come on, Beau.”

“I’m sorry, Kid, you’re out for the rest of the season.” Silence opened wide on the line. “I couldn’t bear to lose another son.”

Levi’s throat closed. Beau thought of him as a son? He’d never…but then again, he’d been too angry over Beau’s constant butt kicking to realize Beau did it, not out of anger, but out of affection. He had to make Beau understand. Racing was all there was for him. It made him somebody, made his life full and gave him a place to belong, a family of sorts. Without it…who would he be? Who the hell could he really be?

“Beau…I’m lost without my ride.” His voice croaked, but he didn’t care. He had to lay himself out there, open. Surely Beau would realize…

“You’re more than your ride, Vi. Take the house. Fix it up and figure yourself out. I’m doing it for your own good.”

The phone clicked loudly in Levi’s ear. He fixed his glare on the weathered round turret protruding from the left side of the monstrosity. “The house is a piece of crap.” He chucked the phone across the front lawn.

He’d given Beau ten good years of racing–longer if he counted the years he worked for Braddock Motorsports, fixing cars and soaking up all the racing knowledge he could. His career couldn’t be over at age thirty-five.

No way was he going to spend upwards of three months in Woodruff, Illinois, home of snail pace and solitude. If Beau thought Levi’d lost his edge now, just wait until he congealed from the lack of excitement in this town.    

He strode across the lawn, scooped his cell phone from the grass and then stomped onto the flimsy porch. The key stuck in the rusty lock and refused to budge. He gripped the doorknob and applied more pressure to the key. It snapped in half. 

He cursed a blue streak and yanked on the doorknob. The brass knob came off in his hand. He wasn’t prepared for it and stumbled, his foot crashing through the weak board on the porch. He yanked his foot from the splintered wood, but momentum kept him from regaining his balance. His tailbone struck the top step and his back slid down the stairs like a washboard, his head landing in the grass.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. A single drop of cold rain struck his forehead.

He raised a fist to the sky. “Beau! You’re gonna pay for this!” 

______________________________________________________

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers

Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

I’m so excited! Romance Divas is hosting an awesome workshop in two days:

If you write romantic suspense and love it, come on over! You do not want to miss such an awesome panel of authors!