Midnight in Brussels - $19.00
Midnight at Trafalgar Square
Midnight at the Eiffel
Midnight in Moscow
MIDNIGHT IN BRUSSELS is the third novel in Rebecca Buckley's "Midnight" romantic suspense series. Each novel is a stand alone in that
it captures the exotic essence of New Year's Eve celebrations in major cities around the world, and each novel introduces a new ensemble
of characters whose lives intermingle with that of "Rachel O’Neill" (the commonality character in all twelve novels), an American writer
living in Cornwall, England.
In this captivating story of Amanda Conroy - a naive, inexperienced, young woman - whose husband of
seven years disappears on Christmas Day, leaving her penniless in the Nevada desert outside of Las Vegas in a house trailer without a car
and no means to support herself. Amanda's married sister comes to the rescue, whisking her away to California to live in their new sprawling
riverside home in the San Joaquin Valley - a far cry from the poor existence both girls experienced in the Arkansas hill country as they
were growing up in their grandmother's care. Amanda's dream to one day travel to Bruges, Belgium - where lacemaking and medieval
quaintness abound - at last becomes a reality. Now she must decide what she wants: an independent life in Belgium or a life in California
with the man who adores her.
The beginning of this novel is written as a short story and is included in my collection ... "Love Has a Price Tag." It's called "Amanda's Dream", so for a preview ...
Rachel O'Neill reappears in all the "Midnight" novels, so
go along with her to vibrant and exciting New Year's Eve celebrations around the world and become entwined in the drama, suspense, and romance that befalls her and the people surrounding her."
FIRST CHAPTER
The steep red rock canyon walls on one side and a deathly drop to the boulders of the creek below on
the other was intimidating, but was a breathless beauty to behold. The shadows of dusk made the scenic
panorama even more imposing.
Arlie Malone glanced up one side and down the other, trying to take it all in as he drove the winding
mountain road towards Globe, Arizona.
He wished circumstances were different. He wished he could start all over in a small town somewhere.
Somewhere like Flagstaff or Sedona he'd passed through earlier that morning.
Arlie missed the comfort of a small town, like where he grew up in Arkansas. And he wasn't totally
convinced he was doing the right thing going to Austin, Texas - trading one woman for another.
Sure he liked women, but he was thinking that maybe he wasn't cut out to live with one. He was a
man's man, didn't like the responsibility of a woman or the demands they made.
"What the-" Arlie pumped the accelerator pedal as the truck sputtered and jerked to a dead stop.
He swore at the top of his lungs and banged his fists on the steering wheel, his temper escalating
to an aneurism high. He should have kept the car; he could've stolen license plates and switched
them, that's what he should've done. He cursed himself for making one of the stupidest mistakes
of his life.
Of course the stupidest mistake was placing that first bet on the craps table when he and Amanda
moved to Vegas from Arkansas eight years earlier. Gambling reeled him in from the get-go. And
no matter how much money he made as an electrician at the Plaza Hotel & Casino, he never had
enough to cover his growing gambling debts.
Now he was running for his life. He was in to the loan sharks to the tune of fifty-two thousand.
There was no way he could come up with that kind of money in the two days they'd given him. It was
his last reprieve, they said. And they said they would use him as an example to others who didn't
pay up on time, if he didn't come through with the cash. So now he was running.
Yesterday, Christmas Day, he had left Vegas and abandoned his car in an alleyway of the most rundown
section of Kingman, Arizona. He stayed overnight in Kingman and early this morning he bought a used
pick-up truck, paid cash for it, and made it to Phoenix without mishap. Now he was driving east on
Highway 60 towards Globe, Arizona. His plan was to spend the night in Globe and tomorrow take Highway
70 to the I-10 west of Deming, New Mexico, where he'd dump the truck and buy another vehicle. From there
it was a straight shot to Austin. He figured switching vehicles several times and doing the zig-zag route
would cover his trail good enough so that no one could find him.
But now he was stranded on a mountain road in Arizona and it was getting dark. He sighed heavily as he
dropped his head onto his hands gripping the steering wheel of the dead truck. His thoughts shifted to
his wife Amanda, wondering how she was coping with his sudden disappearance. He had never shirked his
responsibilities to anyone in his life and he was feeling guilty about that, but wasn't exactly sure how
he felt about her. All he knew in his fearful state of mind was that he probably was protecting her, too,
by fleeing the threatening fists and guns of the loan sharks.
But, he had not only kept his gambling habits from Amanda, he had been having an affair with a Texan
who stayed regularly at the Plaza Hotel, a business woman ten years his senior who knew more about sex
and romance than Amanda would ever know.
Charmaine de la Court had captured his libido the first night they'd met in the Casino when he'd been
called in to do some emergency electrical repairs near the music lounge where she had been sitting alone,
drinking. The affair began that night and continued over the next two years and was still going strong,
which was the reason he was on his way to Austin, Texas ... to surprise her, to hide out with her. No one
would ever think to look for him in Texas.
But now he was stuck in a broken down pickup truck in the middle of nowhere with only his feet to get him
to the next town to find more wheels.
The mountain road was deserted; there hadn't been one vehicle in the past hour coming or going. According
to the map, Miami, Arizona was just ahead. He locked the truck and began walking.
A half mile further up the canyon road, just as he reached a scenic view pull-off near some boulders and
trees perched on the edge of the sheer drop to what seemed like a bottomless pit, a set of headlights
came up behind him reflecting off the canyon walls. It was a black Lincoln SUV, and as it got closer
he could see silhouettes of three men inside.
He gasped and his hair stood on end as the Lincoln pulled off and stopped about 60 feet behind him.
Its engine was revving, its headlights were shining on him.
His first thought was to dart behind the boulders, but before he could act on it, the door opened and
a man stepped down from the front passenger seat pointing an AK-47 at him.
"Oh shit!"
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NOVELS BY REBECCA BUCKLEY