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  • Writer's pictureLa Crimson Femme

Blog Tour Christmas Vendetta by Valerie Hansen

@HarlequinBooks OUT NOW!

Is she a mistaken target…or next on an enemy’s hit list? Sandy Lynn Forrester's Christmas holiday takes a terrifying turn when someone breaks into her home and attacks her roommate…thinking it's her. But no one believes that an imprisoned man from Sandy Lynn's past is behind the attacks—except for her high school heartbreak, ex-cop Clay Danforth. Can she trust Clay to keep her safe in the Ozark wilderness long enough to stop a ruthless criminal’s vengeance?

About VALERIE HANSEN: Valerie Hansen resides in the rural Ozarks where she writes the books of her heart, primarily for Love Inspired Romance and Suspense. She is married to her childhood sweetheart and has worked as a teacher's-aide, EMT, fire dept. dispatcher, dog breeder, commercial artist, dulcimer builder, Veterinarian's asst., 4-H leader, Sunday School teacher, antique restorer and certified Storm Spotter, etc. See for more!



The lack of explanation from Clay caused her to glance over at him. Instead of paying attention to her, he was frowning and looking in the car mirrors.

Sandy Lynn whipped around as far as her seat belt would allow. Since the snow had stopped, more peo­ple had ventured outside, evidently to take advantage of the respite. The street was crowded. “What? What do you see?”

“Probably nothing.”

“Okay,” she drawled, “then why are you making scary faces?”

“I’m not.” Clay flashed her a lopsided smile. “This is my normal face.”

“Maybe it’s the black-and-blue eye socket that makes you look odd,” she said, not believing that excuse for an instant.

Again he stayed silent. She felt the car begin to ac­celerate. The tires slipped in the slushy street, and they fishtailed several times before Clay got it under control.

“Okay. That does it. What is going on?”

“We’re being followed,” Clay said as he sped up, slid­ing again and again. “I’m heading for the police station.”

“Finally, something that makes sense.” Bracing with her left hand on the dash, her right gripping the over-the-door assist handle, Sandy Lynn did her best to an­chor herself on the seat.

Clay turned corner after corner until she was unsure of their position. “I thought you said—”

A hard smack jolted her car and snapped her head back against the support at the top of the seat. She wanted to shout orders at him, to tell him how to get them out of this situation, but truth to tell, she didn’t have a clue.

Prayer would be good, she reasoned, if she had the words to pray or knew what to ask for.

Survival leaped into her thoughts as she called out wordlessly to her heavenly Father.

The car was hit again. Clay righted it.

A harder smash followed quickly.

Clay hollered, “Hang on!”

They went airborne, diving nose-first into a drain­age ditch.

Sandy Lynn saw his head snap forward just as the airbag engulfed him. The passenger side of the dated vehicle was not equipped with crash protection, so the seat belt was the only thing keeping her from flying through the shattering windshield.

Breathless and shocked, she just sat there, wonder­ing if this was as bad as it was going to get or if their pursuers were going to stop to finish them off.


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