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Angels Among Us @jacqbiggar #WIP #PNR #mfrwauthor @RSsosSisters


I’m excited to be working on something new and totally different from my Wounded Hearts series.

This is an excerpt from my #WIP, tentatively titled, Angels Among Us.

Lucas

CHAPTER ONE

Lucas Carmichael awoke to a blinding sense of panic. He sucked in a harsh breath. Everything was dark and filled with forbidding shadows. Noise seemed to rush him from all directions but he couldn’t see anything.

Even though he lay wrapped in some sort of a thin sheet, he was frozen. His body shivered and shook, heels vibrating on the table beneath him.

Table?

What the hell?

The thought no more than flitted through his mind than a white-hot pain hit him between the brows.

Ow.

He lifted his hand and rubbed his forehead with cool fingers. Except, wait. His palms were still on the cold metal of the table. He could feel them there. So, whose fingers…?

Adrenaline spiked and he rose in terror, arms straining to shove off the choking hold of the sheet. He threw himself to the floor and crouched there for a moment, every muscle tensed for attack. A high-pitched whistle ringing in his ears deafened him to danger. His heart pounded like a freight train. Goosebumps pebbled his naked body.

He squinted against the lights, blindingly bright after the darkness of the sheet. That’s why he couldn’t see before; some idiot had covered his head. It sure as he—heck wasn’t him. He hated tight places of any kind.

A man and a woman stood a few feet away behind another table with a blanket shrouded figure. Weird. They hadn’t even glanced up when he performed his acrobatic maneuver. Something strange was going on here.

“It’s too bad. She had her whole life in front of her,” the woman said as she took some sort of vise and lodged it in the poor sucker’s chest. “I heard they were headed from a party when it happened.”

The other guy in the white jacket shook his head. “These guys never learn. They think just because they’re the newest hot item and have more money than God, nothing’s ever going to happen to them.”

He reached into the cavity and carefully removed what looked like the heart and placed it in a pan resting on the corpse’s feet. “At least she’ll make a good research candidate.”

Holy shit.

He was in a freaking morgue. How the hell—ouch, there was that knife-to-the-head pain again—did that happen? Last thing he remembered was cruisin’ down the highway in his new 911 Porsche with the music blaring so loud he could barely hear himself think. His best friend, Scott, who had his younger sister, Natalya, on his lap in the passenger seat had just glanced over her blond head and smiled the quirky grin that had won him instant box office success.

Lucas remembered thinking they were so freaking lucky—to come from where they had, to where they were now? A miracle.

He’d laughed and lifted his beer in a toast, then turned back to the curves of the road. His eyes had widened in shock and the sharp tang of copper flooded his mouth as the beer fell to the floor between his legs. His windshield was filled with the terrified faces of the family in the van hurtling straight toward them. Shit, he must have swerved over the centerline.

They were going to crash. Time simultaneously slowed to a crawl and jumped to warp speed. The man trying frantically to turn the wheel and avoid the collision, the woman’s horrified face staring accusingly at him for a suspended moment before she turned to the back in a vain effort to protect her babies. Those images would haunt him for the rest of his days.

A litany of prayers Lucas hadn’t uttered since he’d been a young child rattled off his lips while Scott’s “What the fuck?” vibrated with fear. He felt more than saw his friend bracing for impact.

Then there was a horrendous screech of metal on metal. His chest slammed into the steering wheel with bruising force, knocking the breath from his lungs. The momentum propelled the car to skid sideways and collide with the van again, this time from the rear. The collision sent his body smashing against the driver’s door. Natalya’s scream reverberated and then was abruptly cut off. His head cracked hard against the window. The last thing he remembered was the suffocating sensation of the deployed airbags.

Lucas rose and backed away from those bloody gloved hands doing God knows what to whoever was on that table. He bumped into another tray filled with instruments of torture and cringed at the resultant clang. He froze, his hands covering his privates, and met the startled gaze of the doc. Except she looked right through him, her pretty green eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“That’s not funny, Hank. I told you I don’t like your games.”

The man, Hank, threw his hands up in the classic ‘hold on there’ pose. “Hey, it wasn’t me this time, I swear.” He moved closer to the tools, as though ready to defend himself with a scalpel or something, the idiot.

The woman’s eyes pierced the shadows, only marginally relaxing when she thought the room was empty. Well, except for the stiffs and him of course. Lucas had a very bad feeling. The only reason for those two not to be able to see him was if he were invisible. And since he was reasonably sure a radioactive spider hadn’t bitten him, he must be a… ghost.

No sooner did the thought flutter wraithlike through his mind than Lucas’ feet lifted from the tiled floor, pulled up by a brilliant white light encircling his body. He groaned, the heat a benediction on his aching bones. So it was true, there was another realm after death. He’d always believed when he died, that’s it. He’d become just another shit-stain on the fabric of mankind. It’s how he lived his life, no harm, no foul. But, this. This felt… divine. If there really was a heaven, Lucas was sure he didn’t deserve a spot. Not after everything he’d done.

It seemed like only seconds later the beam transported him to a textured surface sort of like the topping on his favorite dessert, lemon meringue pie. There were hills and hollows all in creamy shades of tan and white as far as the eye could see. It made him queasy, almost seasick.

He looked around but didn’t see another soul, living or otherwise. Ha, nice to know he hadn’t lost his rather dubious sense of humor when he died.

Christ.

He was dead.

If any of you have a good title I can use, I’ll gift you a copy when it releases and add your name to the dedication. 🙂

I joined a blog hop today where we’re all sharing pieces of our paranormal stories. Check out the other authors here:

Paranormal Love Wednesdays

JACQUIE BIGGAR  is a USA Today bestselling author of Romantic Suspense who loves to write about tough, alpha males and strong, contemporary women willing to show their men that true power comes from love.   She is the author of the popular Wounded Hearts series and has just started a new series in paranormal suspense, Mended Souls. She has been blessed with a long, happy marriage and enjoys writing romance novels that end with happily-ever-afters. Jacquie lives in paradise along the west coast of Canada with her family and loves reading, writing, and flower gardening. She swears she can't function without coffee, preferably at the beach with her sweetheart. :)

8 comments on “Angels Among Us @jacqbiggar #WIP #PNR #mfrwauthor @RSsosSisters

  1. Laverne Bellemare

    love the way this story is going, a snippy ghost , what could be better

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I’m loving this story, Jacquie! A special thanks for gifting us with that image. Now I have the perfect mental picture when reading from Lucas’ POV. Titles? Maybe something having to do with Hollywood or their nicknames?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Well, hell, how long will we have to wait for the rest of this? You have me salivating, so nicely done!
    Titles: Surprise, I’m Dead; Being Dead Has Real Drawbacks; Being Dead Messed Up My Lovelife. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Jacqui Nelson

    Great story, Jacquie! But I still want more books from your Wounded Hearts series. Write like the wind! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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