Exclusive excerpt: 'Valor in Darkness' by Isla Dean

Isla Dean joins us to share an excerpt from her new release, Valor in Darkness.

Isla: I'm so pleased to share an exclusive excerpt from Valor in Darkness, my latest romantic suspense novel set in small-town Maine. I've adored "living" in this fictional town filled with colorful characters and a whole lot of heart, and I hope you enjoy it as well. It was also very fun to write about a Major League baseball player then to have famed pitcher Ted Lilly (New York Yankees, LA Dodgers) provide a blurb for the book: "Baseball, love, and suspense … a perfect read." Enjoy!

Here's the blurb about the book:

Suzanne Smith started her life from scratch in the tiny coastal town of Valor, Maine, after narrowly escaping death at the hands of her former fiancé. Now her life is quiet, simple, and calm—just as she wants it.

Legendary Buster MacKade finished out the last baseball season with a World Series win and a torn rotator cuff. Returning to his hometown in Maine to rehabilitate before heading to spring training, the national hero is fascinated and frustrated by the private woman across the street who keeps her emotions frozen under a stoic surface.

Struggling to stay distant from a man who spends his life in the spotlight, she knows she can't afford to step out of the shadows—it could mean risking her life. But when a picture of the two of them lands in the local news, she quickly becomes part of a national headline and a series of events begin to terrorize the town. Danger is creeping closer than she knows.

Suzanne must decide between hiding in the dark forever, or staying and fighting for life and love.

EXCERPT

The trees that lined the neighborhood street were bare of any leaves, but those with wide enough branches balanced lines of snow that glistened whenever a light from a house or streetlamp caught at just the right angle. The occasional sparkles of light pulled the periphery of her attention into the hologram of what was otherwise winter darkness.

"Why are you still following me?" she demanded.

Both a frown and a grin played on his face, rendering it contradictory and unreadable in one way or another, infuriating her even more, scaring her even deeper.

"Two reasons. One, your words say you're fine but your face tells another story. Thought I'd make sure you at least made it home safely. And two, I just bought a house, well it used to be an inn, up on Washington and Pine, so I'm walking home."

His words were a concentrated combination of casual, confident, amused, and concerned. She preferred people like Tilly who showed their heart and mind with every expression. She thought of it as surface authenticity.

Buster MacKade was a mystery and she wanted no part in mystery other than the one she weaved for her new life as Suzanne Smith. That mystery had a purpose, which either made her a hypocrite or a woman taking care of herself. She was comfortable with either assessment.

"Fine. And for the third time, goodnight." With more spit than she was proud of, she strode off ahead of him down the sidewalk.

And with each step, she sunk lower into herself.

She'd built her life as a friendly small business owner, a calm townsperson, and with the arrival of the mysterious baseball player, she'd let fear and her past unfurl her. But what was she afraid of? She flipped through her thoughts as she walked, studied her feelings as she'd taught herself to do, trying not to judge them with the fiery frustration she had at her ready.

The man had picked up her fallen glove, had looked concerned at her cracked façade of calm, and had basically offered to walk her home. And she'd been horrible in return.

Steps from her quaint Cape Cod style cottage, she fought the urge to turn around again to look at him. Then a realization struck her like a flaming hearth heats a cold room. She was attracted to him. It was that simple. She'd gone so long, hiding away from a man, that she hadn't recognized the feeling. Fear and flight were so thick under the surface, that desire had been impenetrable until now.

Desire, attraction, she wanted for neither of those things. She wanted peace, simplicity, and quiet.

As she stepped onto her snow-covered walkway, she gave in and turned around to watch him cross the street.

His hands were tucked into his jacket pockets, and he made his way toward the old inn directly across from her. He paused at his red front door and stomped the snow off his boots just as she approached.

Something about him, the way he moved, warmed and opened her. A raw craving snuck up, fast and fierce. Then just as fast, she reminded herself she was alone and that's how she wanted it. Alone was safer.

At the sound of her exhale, he glanced over at her, expressionless.

"Thank you," she said.

Moments ticked by, the cold wrapping around them, creating a silence as if they were inside of an igloo, each steadily watching the other.

"Thank you," she repeated. "For walking me home. Sort of."

His head dipped forward in a slight nod. "You're welcome. Sort of."

She waited through the wave of bewilderment then turned, crossed the street and unlocked her home, entered the ten-digit alarm code then peeked through the dark window just as he shut the door to his gigantic old inn.

The man had walked her home and waited for her to get safely inside.

She picked up her Maine Coon cat, all fat, fur, and heart, and snuggled him against her chest as she continued looking out the window, absently petting him.

"Quite the hometown hero, aren't you, Buster MacKade?" She muttered before setting Winston down and following the meows toward the treat drawer.

Find out more about Isla Dean and her books at IslaDean.com.