The release of the Young Adult romantic suspense novel Streamline is just two weeks away! I’ll be posting an excerpt every day leading up to the release.
Today’s excerpt comes from Chapter 4, “Anchor”
Audrey sat in her car, attempting to psych up enough to enter the cement building fronted by a row of bushes and barbed-wire fence. Visiting hours would be over soon, but she felt glued to the vinyl seat.
An old CD—a remnant from Audrey’s childhood—played on her car stereo. “Gracie” was a sweet song from a father to his daughter, and Audrey’s father had often substituted her name, singing “Audrey girl” instead of “Gracie girl.” The rolling piano and singer’s earnest voice made Audrey pause every time.
She finally kicked open the car door and scurried to the entrance before she could turn back. She tucked a strand of damp auburn hair behind her ear as she passed by the building’s stark sign: Naval Air Station Pensacola, Military Prison.
Drumming her fingers on the counter, Audrey stared at the empty chair behind the Plexiglas window. Three months. Her father had only been a prisoner for three months, yet so much had changed. And this was only the beginning of his sentence.
Another MP escorted former Lt. Commander Dennis Rose into the visiting room. Audrey smiled wanly, taking in her father’s navy prison jumpsuit. He looked tired and hopeless. They’d shaved his brown hair—probably some regulation in the brig—which made him seem younger and more vulnerable. He appeared to have shrunk since the court martial.
Awkwardly picking up the phone with handcuffed wrists, her father waited until Audrey followed suit across the glass. “You look beautiful, honey.”
“How, um, how’s it’s going, Dad?”
She blinked nervously. He didn’t sound fine. “Any word on the transfer?”
“Leavenworth’s still over capacity.” He gave her a tight smile.
Poor Audrey’s father is serving a life sentence for murder. Does anyone know which band sings “Gracie?” It’s the sweetest song.