Friday, November 16, 2007

Free Read: Chapter Three of THE BEGINNING (Prequel to HOLD ON TO ME) Now Available!

Chapter Three of The Beginning, the prequel to my December release Hold On to Me, available exclusively to my newsletter group, is now live!

To subscribe, send a blank email to Linda_Winfree- subscribe @ yahoogroups. com without spaces. If you join before December 1, you'll be eligible for to win a gift basket full of Southern goodies and a signed copy of my debut novel What Mattered Most.

I'm including a snippet of The Beginning for your reading pleasure.

The Beginning
A Prequel to Hold On to Me
Coming December 11, 2007 from Samhain Publishing


“Caitlin. Get up.” Vince’s voice, terse and angry, somewhere over her head. She tugged the duvet higher. Strong hands wrested it away and flung it toward the end of the bed. “Now.”

“What do you want?” Her eyes feeling heavy and swollen, she sat up to glower at her brother. The familiar room, still holding remnants from her college days, seemed blurry, her mind fuzzed with the artificial sleep. Hell, she knew she’d been right in refusing to use the sleep aids to start with.

But at least the nightmares had stayed away.

He turned his back and crossed to snap the drapes open. Brilliant sunlight, probably bouncing off the Gulf, flooded the room. She recoiled, head pounding. Oh, the aftereffects of the sleeping pill were worse than any tequila-induced hangover she’d ever suffered after letting her cousin Lanie drag her about Houston’s hotspots.

Vince faced her, hands resting at his waist. “You will get out of that bed, Angel Face. You’re going to shower and get dressed. You will go downstairs and eat brunch with Troupe. The old man is frantic with worry over you. Then you should make a point to go see Lanie.”

Go see Lanie? No. Didn’t he get how much that would hurt?

His high-handedness grated, much as it always did. “Go screw yourself, Vinnie.”

“Get. Up.” Face hardening, he leaned forward. “Do as you’re told.”

Who did he think he was? Without giving him another look, she reached for the duvet again. He snatched it free once more. “Caitlin. Now.”

She was angry now, the hot, slow slide of her Falconetti temper, which she’d spent years learning to freeze over and control, burning through her veins, making her ears buzz. “You can’t make me do anything, Vincent.”

“Wrong, sister mine.” He towered over her, his face a little pale under his tan. “You have exactly thirty seconds to get up and get in the shower. I expect you downstairs with Troupe in twenty minutes. And I expect you to start living your goddamn life again.”


To read more, visit

No comments: