Saturday, March 10, 2012

BOOK INTRO - BOOK INTRO - When Rain Falls by @TyoraMoody (Romantic Suspense) via @sormag


When Rain Falls  
 by Tyora Moody 

When Rain Falls 
Click book to purchase

 "Why does God keep taking away the people I love?"

This is the lamentation of widow CANDACE JOHNSON when her best friend is brutally murdered. Ensnared by a deep-rooted bitterness, seeping her faith day by day, Candace is determined to seek justice.

Detective Darnell Jackson is in need of clues fast. The police captain is coming down hard on him and his partner to find out who murdered Pamela Coleman, the daughter of a high profile judge.  

Darnell confers with Candace to get the inside track on events leading up to the murder. As the
investigation heats up, his growing attraction for Candace plays havoc on Darnell's judgment.    

Little does she know, Candace's quest to find the truth has led her straight to the killer. She's already lost loved ones. Now Candace must choose to completely trust God with her own life.

Coming to bookstores in February 2012
Pre-order yours TODAY

Tyora Moody
Tyora Moody is an author and entrepreneur. Her debut novel, When Rain Falls, will be released March 2012 (Urban Christian/Kensington). Tyora writes romantic suspense and cozy mysteries. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and American Christian Fiction Writers. She owns and operates, a design and marketing company.

Visit Tyora on the web -
Charlotte, North Carolina, 2008

"What's going on?" Candace Johnson sat up in the bed and waited. Either the cellular company had dropped the call or her friend was on the line, probably twirling a lock of hair, her mind elsewhere. She fired off, "Pamela, are you still there?"

"I'm here," Pamela shot back. Her friend let out a deep sigh. "There's a lot I'm trying to process right now. It's late. Let's talk tomorrow."

Tomorrow. "You're kidding me, right?" Nothing rattled Pamela Coleman, but only a few minutes ago Pamela had called with a shaky voice, saying, "We have to talk." There was no way Pamela could leave the conversation hanging until the morning.

"I'm tired, Candace. To be quite honest, I may not be thinking straight."

Candace pulled the covers up closer to her body. It wasn't unusual for them to talk until the wee hours of the morning, but she knew not to push her friend. "Where are you, anyway? Are you still at the art gallery reception this late?"

"No, I'm on my way home."

"All right, girlfriend. I hope you get a good night's sleep. There will be no excuses tomorrow. I expect you to spill everything."

"I hope I can. You get some sleep, too."

The dial tone buzzed in her ear for a few seconds before she hung up the cordless phone. Sleep. That's a joke.

Out of habit, Candace slipped out of the bed and walked over to the window. She lifted one of the blind slats to peer out onto the street. It had been over a year and a half since the police department had provided protection for her family during the night. Now it seemed the police no longer cared. Other cases took priority, she guessed. Maybe it was all her imagination, overcome by grief and loss.

Rain pelted the roof and windows. The kind of rain that could coax a person into a deep, restful sleep. Candace wished. A full night's sleep had become a lost luxury, but she would try to close her eyes. As she climbed under her favorite quilt, uneasiness settled over her mind. Again. Another long night awaited her.

She could blame her sleeplessness on the late-night pizza session with the kids, but she knew better. Even Pamela's ominous call didn't help matters. It was the past that kept her staring at the ceiling, walking beside her like a maddening visitor, just hanging around, with no signs of departure.

Stealing her sleep, her peace.

She gripped the quilt, hugging it close to her body. Her aunt always said, "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Candace didn't care about being strong. She wanted answers.

She stared into the darkness, beyond the clock, to where the glow illuminated a man's features. The photo was barely visible, but Candace had it memorized. In her mind, she could see Detective Frank Johnson dressed in his uniform. Though his smile was serious, his deep dimples still made an appearance.

Almost seventeen years of marriage. Her protector.

Seemed like everyone these days told her the same thing. "Frank would've wanted you to move on." How could she? Her Frank believed in justice. In the end, her husband received none. That haunted her.

She did need to get herself together. Her children had been through enough. She didn't need Rachel and Daniel worrying about their mother. More than anything she wanted them to enjoy their youth. She didn't want them to experience the pain she struggled through at their age from losing a parent.

So Candace meditated on the rain, willing her eyes to grow heavy.


Her eyes flew open, and then she smacked the pillow. Even as she resolved to put the familiar memory out of her mind, questions lingered. Why now?

Almost thirty years had passed since that night. It seemed like every now and then Mama decided to visit her in a dream. Images of the beautiful, troubled woman who birthed her often were like a bittersweet reunion. But sometimes he would show up, too.

Candace was no longer afraid of him. She'd made sure to track down his whereabouts after Frank's death just to be sure her childhood bogeyman had not returned. She knew he wasn't a threat to her anymore.

Still, she knew sleep would not come tonight. She refused to close her eyes. Like that night long ago, it felt like God had stopped by to shake her around like one of those snow globes.
Where would the pieces of her life fall like those flakes? Candace wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Candace focused her thoughts on the earlier phone call. Pamela, what do you have to tell me tomorrow?

Feel free to forward to your book loving friends

No comments:


all books by Sylvia Hubbard - collect them all!


Help Me Pay My Publicist!

Click Here For Details

Or do me one better and buy a book at my bookstore (they make great gifts for all)!:
Sylvia Hubbar'ds Fiction Bookstore

Or pass the word to five friends because word of mouth is the best advertising and the more people that know about me the better chance I have to get that dream publishing deal from that dream publisher. Help a sistah out! Click Here or click the envelope above.
The copyright to the text of the blog is held by the author, where applicable. All images displayed are copyright their respective owners and are used either under licence or under the fair use provisions of international copyright law.