Love in the air
Thank you so much, Linda, for having me at your lovely site today to talk about my new romantic suspense/adventure Lapses of Memory.
Lapses of Memory follow the exploits of two journalists, Sydney Bellek and Elian Davies, as they travel the globe reporting on various world catastrophes. In one of their encounters they find themselves embroiled in the early stages of the revolution in Iran and only barely escape. A few years later we find them rivals in the search for a scoop on the Lebanese Civil War. At one point they are separated and Sydney finds comfort in another’s arms.
Having lived through some of the events that Sydney and Elian confront, I wanted to convey both the excitement and the fear you feel when enmeshed in a world-shattering crisis. As reporters, Sydney and Elian sensed that something important was happening, but couldn’t know the extent or the consequences of it. As lovers, their evolving romance was often interrupted by their ambitions or the vagaries of war. Many times, a happy ending seemed far from secure. And yet…and yet…I hope you find the story as romantic as I do.
Lapses of Memory
Wild Rose Press, 3/15/2017, Imprint: Champagne Rose
Contemporary romantic suspense/Action Adventure; M/F; 2 flames
Ebook (70,560); Print: 296 pp.
Sydney Bellek first meets Elian Davies in the 1950s when she is five & he is seven. While he knows from the start that she is his true love, she does not. Later, as rival journalists, they vie for scoops on international crises. The handsome and intrepid Elian beats her out at every turn, even while keeping his love for her secret.
Only after years of separation does she finally realize they are meant to be together, but, in a twist of fate, it is Elian whose memory of her is gone. Will he remember her before she loses heart or will their new love be enough to replace the old one?
I Tunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/lapses-of-memory/id1196959922?mt=11
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lapses-of-memory-ms-spencer/1115291373
As always with romance, there are hurdles to leap. Here is one:
He helped her into his car. “You still up for dinner at Luigi’s?”
“Are you kidding? I’m famished. This second trimester is making up for everything I upchucked in the first.”
“What a pretty picture. You’ve certainly become more graphic in your speech with this pregnancy, Sydney. It’s a wonder you even can blush.”
The maitre d’ saw them coming and had bread and butter on the table before they even sat down.
“Thank you, Luigi. How thoughtful of you.”
Luigi winked at Walker. “After this, your fourth visit to Luigi’s, I know that madame needs sustenance right away. The veal piccata as usual?”
Walker ordered a salad. Finishing it quickly, he sat back to watch Sydney eat, an affectionate smile teetering on his lips. An hour later, she scraped the last droplet of chocolate icing from her plate and patted her bulging stomach. “That was delicious. Thank you, Walker.”
“I’m glad I can be here for you.”
Sydney fought her heavy eyelids back to the open position. “Speaking of, when do you have to go back to Turkey? You’ve been here over four months—I thought you were only assigned here temporarily.”
“Oh,” he said carelessly, “you know the military. Everything takes longer than they expect. Which brings me to tonight’s topic.”
“Hmm? I didn’t see an agenda. Don’t we have to approve the minutes first?”
“Waived.” He pushed the candle aside and bent toward her. “Sydney? I’ve asked for a permanent transfer to the Pentagon.”
“They’ve tentatively agreed but require proof that the grounds I gave are justified.”
Sydney stifled a yawn. It’s after eight o’clock, for heaven’s sake. I wish he’d get on with this. She thought of the hot bath waiting at home and forced a smile. “And what’s that?”
“That…that…” He pushed something toward her. Her eyes dropped to a small velvet box. “…that I’m getting married.”
Without thinking, she opened it. Long seconds clicked by. Sydney stared at the ring. Walker stared at her. The couple at the next table stared at them both. The waiter passed by their table and stopped to stare. Finally Sydney took a sip of water and whispered, “Oh, my.”
No one seemed particularly impressed with this response. The waiter raised his hand as if to suggest a more appropriate reply, and the woman at the next table whispered loudly to her companion. Sydney caught the words “milk” and “cow.”
As she opened her mouth again, praying that something sensible would issue from it, Walker as usual let her off the hook. “Look, take your time. I just thought…” He raised his hand to signal for the check and almost took the waiter’s eye out.
“I…I…” She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t answer him. Not yet.
They left a small crowd glaring at their retreating backs and muttering disgruntled objections. Walker drove her to her house in silence and left her at the door.
Sydney stumbled inside and collapsed on the couch. Something hard gouged into her hip. She pulled out the box. The diamond was quite large, the setting very simple. It is a beautiful ring. A long-lost memory rose like Venus from the sea, a memory of a plastic ring with a large pink crystal. Elian had found it on the beach in Tangier. He’d tried to give it to her, but she’d run off laughing. When he caught up with her, she had puffed, “I’ll wait for a real diamond,” and pushed his hand away.
Elian had tossed the child’s ring down and mumbled, “Okay.”
Should I have taken the toy? Something told her she’d still be wearing it. And I’d never be able to move on. No. She picked up Walker’s offering and slipped it on. Mrs. Walker Adams. The Adams family. Party of three. It just might work.
About the Author
Although M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents, the last thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director, and parent. After many years in academia, she worked for the U.S. Senate, the U.S. Department of the Interior, in several library systems, both public and academic, and at the Torpedo Factory Art Center.
Ms. Spencer has published ten romantic suspense novels, and has two more in utero. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
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