Read On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8) Online

Authors: Lisa B. Kamps

On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8) (25 page)

BOOK: On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8)

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INTO THE FLAMES

Firehouse Fourteen Book 4

Dale Gannon has sworn off women. He's seen more than his share of crazy and not all of it has been during his job as a firefighter. His youngest sister, Lindsay, is currently in jail awaiting trial for the attempted poisoning of his other sister, Lauren. Guilt still eats at him, making him wonder if there was something he could have done to prevent Lindsay's fall. Could he have been more supportive? More encouraging? What if…no, he was done with what-ifs. Done with women. Done with people, period. What he needs is peace, quiet…and time to come to grips with everything that's happened in the last six months.

And then he meets the neighbor from hell: a sassy free-spirited woman who quickly turns his life upside down.

Melanie Reeves has always seen things differently, viewing life as an array of color. Bright and vibrant, dark and moody. She captures them, breathes them, gives life to them on canvas. But her obnoxious neighbor is a mystery, one she can't solve, one she can't even read clearly—and one she tries her best to ignore.

Until she discovers the deep guilt that plagues him—guilt he won't admit to or even acknowledge. Can she help him find his way to the surface before the darkness completely engulfs the inner vibrancy she senses in him? Or will he drag her with him into the flames, where they both run the risk of losing who they really are?

Turn the page for an exciting sneak peek at
INTO THE FLAMES
, now available for pre-order.

Music blared next to his head, the underlying bass rhythm shaking the drywall, reverberating through the headboard and mattress then through his body.

Dale Gannon rolled to his side and threw the covers off with an angry, impatient jerk. He ran a hand over his face, the short stubble on his jaw scratching his palm, and stared at the bright red numbers glowing on the alarm clock.

8:47

He'd managed to get in forty minutes of sleep before the blaring music jolted him awake. It hadn't even been a restful sleep and he felt worse now than he had when he got home. Tired, groggy, his head filled with hazy cobwebs that dulled his thinking and his reaction time. They'd been up all night, running one call after another after another. Shit calls: fire alarms, medic assists, wires down. One auto fire that broke the monotony of the other crap they kept getting hit with.

All he wanted to do was sleep. To get in a few hours of shut-eye before he went back in this afternoon for more of the same. That shouldn't have been a problem. Up until three months ago, it
wouldn't
have been a problem.

Until the neighbor from hell had moved in.

Dale had yet to meet the guy, whoever he was. All he knew was that the jerk must not have a job, because he was home at all hours of the day and night.

And he had awful taste in music.

Dale rose from the bed, swearing under his breath as he reached for a pair of sweatpants and jerked them on. He curled his hand into a fist and pounded on the wall, hard. Three times. A short pause. Three more.

He held his breath, waiting to see if that would do the trick. A minute went by before the music, whatever the hell it was, finally stopped.

"Thank God." Dale stumbled out of the bedroom and made his way down the short hall to the kitchen. He needed coffee, lots of it.

He'd settle for one cup then go back to his room to collapse and try to get back to sleep. Just a few hours, that was all he needed.

He'd taken two long swallows of the strong black brew before the music blared to life again. His back teeth throbbed in time to the bass line. The music built to a loud crescendo that seemed to end in an abrupt scream that caused him to jump. His hand jerked, sloshing coffee over the edge of the mug and onto the floor.

"You have got to be shitting me." Dale clenched his teeth and slammed the mug onto the counter. He curled his hand into another fist and banged it against the kitchen wall, hard enough that the pepper shake fell over. Hard enough that pain shot along the outside of his curled hand. Dale winced then brought his hand to his mouth, sucking on the knuckle of his small finger with a grunt.

The music stopped mid-squeal, like someone had hit a button and killed all the power. He grunted again then tore off a few paper towels to wipe up the spilled coffee. A little soreness in his hand was a small price to pay for peace and quiet. Finally. Now he could finish the coffee and drag his ass back to bed for a few hours of much-needed sleep.

Sleep. Work. Back home to sleep some more. Yeah, what an exciting way to start his four days off, especially since those four days would probably be spent doing nothing. Unless he called his friend Rick Foster to see if he needed any help on any of his home improvement jobs. Maybe something that involved demolition. Tearing down a wall would certainly help get some of his aggressions out, especially since he wasn't doing much of anything like that at work, not in his position as an engine driver.

He reached for the coffee, not sure if he wanted to finish it or toss it down the drain, when someone started knocking on his door. Only knocking was too subtle a description. It was like someone was pounding at it, or maybe even kicking it, hard enough that Dale was only slightly surprised it didn't fall off its hinges.

A small grin lifted the corners of his mouth, a grin that probably looked as cold and flat as it felt. There was no doubt in his mind who was trying to beat his door down, not so soon after he banged on the wall.

The mystery neighbor from hell. It had to be.

Adrenaline surged through him, better than any jolt of caffeine. This was exactly what he needed to get his mind off things, to knock out the worry and guilt that had been eating at him for the last few months—ever since his youngest sister Lindsay had pulled that careless stunt and damn near killed his other sister, Lauren.

Dale sat the mug on the counter and did a quick neck roll, preparing for the confrontation he was certain was going to happen as soon as he opened the door. Good. Let it. He couldn't wait to finally meet the neighbor from hell and give him a piece of his mind. To tell him exactly what he could do with the loud obnoxious music that shook the walls at odd hours of the day and night. And if the guy was burly or belligerent—or both—than that was even better.

He stormed over to the door, his steps heavy on the hardwood flooring. He didn't pause, didn't stop to take a deep breath, did none of those things. Why should he, when he was more than ready for this confrontation? He yanked open the door, his mouth already moving before he completely opened it.

"Who the hell do you think—" The words died on his mouth as the breath left him in a rush, his stomach clenching as if someone had just punched him. And he had been punched, no doubt about it. Except it wasn't a physical blow—it was complete and utter shock.

Dale blinked, thinking he must be seeing things. This couldn't be the neighbor from the hell. No way in hell. He'd been expecting a burly, belligerent, unkempt man. Someone he would have no problem confronting.

But instead of the man he'd been expecting, Dale found himself staring into the wide ocean blue eyes of an elf.

He blinked again, expecting the image to morph or fade. He was tired, his mind must be playing tricks on him. That had to be it.

The woman in front of him was wiry and petite. Fiery red hair flowed around her face in a halo of loose curls that tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. Her mouth, full and as deep as ripened strawberries, pursed in irritation. A flush spread across her high cheekbones, the color a dark pink against her pale creamy skin. Another splash of color, an electric blue that shone in the light from the hall, was smeared across her chin and jaw.

Not an elf. A Smurf.

The neighbor from hell was a freaking Smurf.

***

About the Author:

Lisa B. Kamps is the author of the best-selling series
The Baltimore Banners
, featuring "hard-hitting, heart-melting hockey players" (USA Today), on and off the ice. Her newest series,
Firehouse Fourteen
, features hot and heroic firefighters and launched with ONCE BURNED.

Lisa grew up with an overactive imagination, strong encouragement from her parents, an insatiable infatuation with the Peanuts gang--and the constant companion of stories in her head. Writing those stories down just seemed natural and a new love was born at the ripe old age of five!

That love of writing continued to grow, along with all those voices in her head, even during her assorted careers: first as a firefighter with the Baltimore County Fire Department, then a very brief (and not very successful) stint at bartending in east Baltimore, and finally as the Director of Retail Operations for a busy Civil War non-profit.

Lisa currently lives in Maryland with her husband and two sons (who are mostly kinda-sorta out of the house), one very spoiled Border Collie, two cats with major attitude, several head of cattle, and entirely too many chickens to count.

Interested in reaching out to Lisa? She'd love to hear from you, and there are several ways to contact her:

Website:
www.LisaBKamps.com

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[email protected]

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https://www.goodreads.com/LBKamps

Amazon Author Page:
http://www.amazon.com/author/lisabkamps

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https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lisa-b-kamps

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Other titles by this author:

THE BALTIMORE BANNERS

Crossing the Line
, Book 1

Game Over
, Book 2

Blue Ribbon Summer
, Book 3

Body Check
, Book 4

Break Away
, Book 5

Playmaker,
A Baltimore Banners Intermission Nove
lla

Seduced By The Game
Cancer Charity Collection

Delay of Game
, Book 6

Shoot Out
, Book 7

The Baltimore Banners: 1st Period Trilogy