If you want to read about how a couple of adorable watchdogs manage to save our hero from hired assassins, find out in Fatal Innocence, just released from the good folks at Solstice Publishing.
Mike Talbert is tasked by his boss with devising a
scheme to deep-six an incriminating draft email from the personal computer of a
prominent politician. Someone with presidential ambitions. And Mike must
perform this treachery without risking charges of evidence tampering or
obstruction of justice. Never one to let ethics or the law get in the way
of his ambitions, Mike comes up with a plan to enlist professional thieves to
steal the computer. The trouble is, the plan works better than Mike or his boss
could have hoped, but complications arise when the women in their lives turn on
them in unexpected ways. Will things ever go right for Mike?
Chapter One
I knew exactly how I was going to handle
Madison. All
day long, even while I was meeting with
Casey, I was
working out my strategy. I would be
pleasant. I would
speak in soft tones. I would not
interrupt her. I would listen
to what she had to say, and not just
pretend to listen. I
would even, at just the right moment,
ask her pertinent
questions to prove that I was listening.
I would be
cooperative, flexible, compliant. I
would promise to do
everything she wanted me to do. When she
brought up my
faults, whether real or perceived, I
would insist that I could
change, that I could do better, and that
I would do better. I
would not try to kiss her or even hug
her, though, if
circumstances seemed favorable, I might
touch the back of
her hand with the tips of my fingers.
How long I would
allow my fingers to linger there would
depend on my
assessment of her mood, though I would
make sure to err
on the side of brevity.
Most important of all, I would apologize
to her
directly and sincerely, even if I wasn’t
sure that I had
anything to apologize for. I would also
not use the word
“apology.” It was too stiff and cold. I
would say that I was
sorry, deeply sorry, and I would specify
my wrongs to the
best of my ability. I would try to make
my voice sound
anguished and bring appropriate degrees
of pain and
distress to my face. Occasionally, I
might even appear
distraught. I would lay it on thick. Yet
I would at all times
attempt to maintain a strong masculine
underpinning. Most
women seem to like that. It has
something to do with a
desire for security, at least according
to Casey.
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