Pieces of You

Book One of The Betrayed Trilogy...

Will he risk his life and his heart for a chance at one true love?

Quinn Burnes's mother disappeared when he was only fifteen leaving him with a despondent father, a little sister who suffers panic attacks, and eight notebooks containing the truth about his mother. He guards this secret for eighteen years, until on an otherwise normal day, his mother re-enters his life, pleading for his help. She's in danger and the only thing that can save her is reclaiming the identity she shunned years ago.

Quinn is a master of emotional detachment, from his successful career as a personal injury attorney to his strings of meaningless relationships with beautiful women who possess uneasy temperaments; a sure formula to keep his heart safe and insure he's the first to walk away. Until he meets the mysterious 'Danielle' a woman with too many secrets who's on the run from the abusive, estranged husband she shot and may have killed. Danielle isn't like any woman he's ever met, but can he risk his heart for someone who's doing exactly what his mother did eighteen years ago? Someone who may ultimately leave him, just like his mother?

The Betrayed Trilogy:
Pieces of You, Book One
Secrets of You, Book Two
What's Left of Her-a novella, Book Three

Quinn moved toward the far end of the store where there were several rectangular cases housing a variety of jewels and jewelry. The more expensive pieces were in the smaller room in the back but he still liked to ease his way through each case. Just a simple cut could change the way a topaz sparkled in its setting, not as arresting as a black opal but there was a fluid beauty in the deep golden color unique to the topaz. Some nights as he watched Arianna shape metal into intricate designs, he had to clench his fists to keep from grabbing the torch and forming his own design.

Arianna was still with the customer, a middle-aged woman in spandex, and from the indecision on the woman's face, it could be awhile. Quinn decided to make his way to the studio and pour a whiskey while he waited. He didn't realize anyone was in the studio until he had his hand on the knob. That's when he saw her. Much of her face was obscured by huge goggles as she clutched a blow torch and bent over a piece of metal. He studied the long, lean frame, the black braid reaching down her back as she aimed the blow torch and a bright orange-blue flame spat out, illuminating a slice of pale skin.

The woman's slim fingers mesmerized him as she worked the torch with practiced skill, making him think of sex and lots of it. Who was she? Quinn clutched the doorknob, caught between desire to go to the woman and rip off the goggles so he could see her face and the equal need to stay right there, watching.

She leaned forward further and he could make out a swell of small breast beneath the black turtleneck sweater. They'd be round breasts, firm, full. He imagined her naked, the long waist, the slim hips . . . The woman turned off the blow torch, set it on the workbench and held up the metal she'd been soldering. His gaze fell to her lips. Full. Red. Perfect.

He turned the knob just as she disappeared behind a screened panel. What would he say when she returned? I like the way you work a blow torch? Maybe he wouldn't say anything, he'd pour a drink, no two, and go for the casual, Hi, I'm Quinn, Arianna's friend.

He waited. Three minutes, five, six. Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside, expecting the mystery woman to materialize from behind the partition. When she didn't, he edged toward the screen and looked behind it. A tiny hall snaked toward a door that led to the street. The woman was gone.