Author Spotlight - Excerpt from White Roses

Thanks so much for supporting Michelle this week. Leave a comment on the excerpt post today, Sat., and Sun., and Monday I'll pick a winner to receive Michelle's promotional giveaway which includes: A travel mug package, with white rose lollipops, and a Tabor Heights keychain and pen and notepad.

Enjoy today's excerpt!
Smiles
Moderator Steph

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"Ah, I don't think a funeral is the place to bring a date."

"Not a date." Curt glanced sideways at her. "If you and I go as representatives of the paper, doing a story on people's reactions to the White Rose, then nobody will think twice if you ask more questions later."

"Don't you hate having to always be thinking ahead?"

"You get used to it. And you've been doing a lot of thinking ahead yourself. Kind of unavoidable, from where we're both sitting." He picked up his slice of pizza and just looked at it. "Sometimes, I can't stop thinking about it."

"Curt... are you blaming yourself? For what happened to Angel, I mean," she hurried to add, when he turned sharply to look at her.

"Why? There was nothing I could have done."

"You found her. You were still trying to get her interested in you when a lot of those other boys were saying some pretty nasty things about her, from sour grapes."

"Did you ever think that difference makes me a likely suspect?"

Toni gasped and jerked away, but Curt dropped his pizza and grabbed hold of her hand, keeping her close. Idly, she noticed that he smeared pizza sauce on the cuff of her sweatshirt.

"You did think it might be me, didn't you?" he pressed.

"Not... not consciously. I had a dream the other night. While I was waiting for the chief to think over Angela's proposition. I barely even remembered it when I woke up, but you were in it and you were yelling at Angel and trying to blame so many people. And I thought, it's always the people who make the most noise who end up being the guilty ones. You know what I mean?"

"The more noise they make, the more dirt they can toss onto other people, the less they think anybody will blame them." He nodded. "But that was just your dream, right?"

"Just my dream. And I know you couldn't be to blame."

"How do you know?" He stared into her eyes, until finally she had to look away without being able to come up with an answer. "A good reporter follows his gut instinct when he's tracking down a story. Doesn't mean he should rely on his gut when his life is at stake." He finally let go of her wrist. "But thanks for your vote of confidence."