Title: Fatal Hunt
Author: Michelle Godard-Richer
Genre: Romantic Escape Thriller
Book Blurb:
After being widowed and surviving the wrath of a serial killer, Jessica believes her misfortunes are over. She's reunited with her first love, Jon, and together, with her son Bryce, and a baby on the way, they're living their happily ever after on their ranch in Montana. That is until secrets, lies, and a formidable foe from Jon's past emerge to shake the foundation of their relationship, forcing them to flee for their lives.
A decade earlier, Jon worked undercover for the FBI. He infiltrated Hugh Jones' Kansas City Mob, and almost destroyed his empire. Unaware of the breech in his own defenses, Hugh, obsessed with revenge, unleashes every weapon in his arsenal, targeting those Jon loves the most.
Excerpt:
Jessica coasted along Main Street with her son Bryce, foot on the brakes as they skidded on the icy road. They passed brownstone buildings housing gift shops, an art store, and a photography store. In the sunny backdrop stood the Rocky Mountains, white from top to bottom after a fresh snowfall. A postcard perfect day in Lewistown, Montana.
Spying a coveted parking spot in front of The Rising Trout Café during the lunch rush, she signaled and pulled in.
Bryce unclipped his seatbelt. “I don’t see Daddy’s truck anywhere.”
Jessica gazed into the rear-view mirror at her son, the most precious gift she’d been given and massaged the tiny bump on her stomach. “Don’t worry. He’ll be here soon. You know him and those cinnamon rolls.” She climbed out and slid open the back door of her minivan. “Take my hand.”
He frowned. “I can get out by myself.”
Jessica sighed. Her eight-year-old little boy wasn’t so little anymore. Since being kidnapped the previous summer and escaping on his own, Bryce had become independent. But she didn’t want to give him his own space. She wanted him to hold onto him and never let go. “I know. But there’s a patch of ice here.”
“I’ll be fine, Mommy.” He sat on the floor of the van, grabbed the handle grip, and climbed out, avoiding the ice. “See? Told you.” He ran ahead, wrapped his arm around one of the black iron lampposts lining the sidewalks, and looped around it.
A cold wind whistled through the cracks in the buildings, stinging her cheeks. She zipped her parka to her chin, then crossed the sidewalk to the cafe. Pulling the glass door open, she hollered, “Come on, buddy.”
“Coming.” He jogged past her into the warmth of the small space and made a beeline for the desserts in the display case.
She followed and stamped the snow off her boots on the welcome mat. The scents of cinnamon, chicken, and onion mingling together churned her stomach. Oh no. Not again.
Whoever named morning sickness had been mistaken. The nausea hit anywhere, at any time, without warning. She held her breath, caught the eye of Lydia, working behind the counter, and pointed to the restrooms.
Lydia set a pan of cinnamon rolls on the counter. “Go ahead. I’ll keep an eye on Bryce.”
Jessica jogged to the bathroom, swung the door shut behind her, and kneeled in front of the porcelain throne seconds before her breakfast made a comeback. She groaned. Hope this is the last time for a while.
Earlier that morning, her obstetrician had prescribed medication for the nausea. Those pills had been her salvation during her first pregnancy. She held her stomach and waited for the heaving to stop. Once her stomach muscles unclenched, she rinsed her mouth with cool water, then dried her face with a paper towel.
She returned to the dining area and scanned the room for Bryce. He sat at a square red table in a wooden chair with a coloring book and crayons. And he wasn’t alone. Her heart thumped in her ears. A stranger!
A middle-aged man in a grey three-piece suit sat across from Bryce. After seven months of living in Lewistown, she recognized most of the locals on sight, and none wore suits.
She strode across the room, stood behind Bryce’s chair, and held his shoulders. “Hello, sir. I see you’ve met my son.” Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed her husband, Jon, through the window. His dirty blond, grey-streaked hair poked out of his favorite dark brown cowboy hat. Oh, thank God.
The stranger stood and smirked. “Good afternoon, Jessica. What a fine young boy you have here.”
How does he know my name?
He turned his back to her and ambled towards the exit. Jon entered the cafe, stood in front of the door, and looked the stranger in the eye. They spoke, but conversations happening at other tables drowned out their words. The man exited the shop. Jon stared after him before heading their way.
Jessica squeezed Bryce’s shoulder gently. “Who was that man?”
Bryce shaded a dinosaur with a blue crayon. “Don’t know. He didn’t tell me his name.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked me stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“He asked me where my parents were and where we lived.”
Jessica’s stomach churned again. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him I live on a farm with you and Daddy. I didn’t give him our address or names. I know better.”
“Good job. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” Bryce glanced up from his drawing. “Don’t worry, Mommy. He didn’t seem like a bad guy.”
Jon kissed her cheek and fist bumped Bryce. “Sorry I’m late. How did your appointment go?”
“Okay. I got some pills for the nausea.” The creases in Jon’s forehead betrayed tension. “Do you know that man?”
Jon shook his head. “No. Never met him.”
“What were you talking about?”
“He asked for directions to a hotel. I told him if he wanted something fancy, he’d best head to Great Falls. Why?”
“I had to use the washroom. Lydia was supposed to be watching Bryce, but when I came out, the man was sitting beside him. He asked Bryce questions about who we were and where we lived.”
Jon patted her hand. “I understand why you’d be antsy after what we’ve been through, but I think it’s logical to ask a child sitting alone who and where his parents are.”
She yanked her hand away. “I’m not overreacting. He knew my name, and he didn’t get it from Bryce.”
Bryce glanced up from his coloring book. “I didn’t tell him our names, Daddy. I swear.”
Lydia came around the counter. “Sorry, I couldn’t sit with Bryce. I got swamped. What can I get you folks?”
“We’re fine, Lydia. Don’t worry about it.” Jon ruffled Bryce’s hair. “What do you want to eat, buddy?”
“One of those big chocolate chip muffins and hot chocolate.”
Jon chuckled. “I should have known. What about you, sweetheart?”
Jessica’s tummy garbled and churned at the mention of food. “Chamomile tea is about all I can handle.”
“Sorry, you’re not feeling well again.” Jon kissed the top of her head. “I’ll have my usual, Lydia. Turkey club and a cinnamon roll.”
Lydia asked, “Want your order to go?”
Jessica nodded. “Thank you.” She needed them home, behind a locked door.
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Author Biography:
Michelle Godard-Richer is an award-winning thriller and horror author with an Honours Degree in Criminology from the University of Ottawa. She was named Best Canada Author of the Year by N.N. Light’s Book Heaven and earned a Crowned Heart from Ind’Tale Magazine.
Her fascination with crime and human behavior, combined with a lifelong passion for the written word, led her to realize a childhood dream of becoming an author. She enjoys crafting strong protagonists and diabolical villains with realistic and believable characteristics while making their lives as complicated and dangerous as possible.
When she isn’t writing, you’ll find her in the garden or with her nose in a book. She lives in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in Alberta with her husband, two children, four dogs, and a cat.
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