Michelle Bellon lives in the Pacific Northwest with her four quirky and
beautiful children. She loves coffee, Superman, rollercoasters, and has an
addiction to chapstick.
She works as a registered nurse and in her spare time writes novels. As a
multi-genre author, she has written in the categories of romance suspense,
young adult, women’s fiction, and literary fiction. She has won four literary
Breathe in, breathe out.
heart shattering to pieces. If she could find her voice, she’d scream.
to a bed, a camera set up to capture her dying moment. And the person who paid
to watch her die…is still out there somewhere.
the killer. Not until they strike again…in the place Tessa is least expecting,
and where it hurts worst.
hair. Suddenly the car slams to a stop. Tires slide against gravel. My head
tips forward, and my vision tunnels. Vance’s grasp loosens. With my head free,
I twist toward him and aim my flailing arms in his direction. Hitting him over
and over again, connecting with cheek, arms, chin, chest, anything I can that
might possibly cause him enough pain to release me. I need to hurry. Jake is
now out of the driver’s-side door and rounding the front of the vehicle. I’m
screaming. The sound escapes from deep within my diaphragm and rattles my
bones, echoing within the confines of the vehicle. Desperation seizes my senses.
Time slows, as if I’m stuck in a bad dream. Maybe I am. But the pain shooting
up my arms as I hit and punch tell me this is all too real.
protect his face while simultaneously attempting to seize my arms again. The
door behind me swings open. Hands, stronger and larger than Vance’s, grip my
waist and haul me out of the vehicle. Fingers bite into my flesh. Frantic, I
kick and thrash every limb I have. I arch my back, hoping to somehow wriggle
out of his grip. No chance. He’s too strong.
wraps one muscled bicep around my throat. Instantly, I lose the ability to pull
oxygen into my airway. I kick my feet back, connecting with his shins. I claw
and scratch at the bulk of muscle around my neck. His skin curls under my
fingernails. Stars dance before my eyes. First, tiny white bursts, they quickly
morph into frightening red blotches.