View Full Version : Mysteries

Kim Smith
November 24th, 2009, 12:16 PM
Avenging Angel, book one of the Shannon Wallace Series


Buy Link:


Shannon Wallace is having a bad hair week.
She’s been ditched by her job, dumped by her boyfriend, and implicated in his murder.
When she finds out her very private video collection is missing from the crime scene, it is all out war to find the disks before the cops do. The problem is, the killer has them. And he’s watched them.
Now Shannon’s at the top of his most wanted list.

Excerpt :

My Aunt Nancy always told me to dress in my best clothes when I went out, because I never knew whom I might meet. This time, I hadn’t done the best I could to make myself presentable. Jeans, tee shirt, and a ponytail didn’t qualify for modern chic. When the detective opened the door to the Homicide Office, I wished I’d worn a skirt and heels. In a moment of clarity, I understood my aunt’s concerns about going out half-ready.

The sexy, Hispanic man who raised an eyebrow and patiently waited for me to state my business was none other than Salvador Ramirez, formerly of Mississippi Junior College, the same school I attended back in the day. Of all the eligible men at college, he was the most highly sought after. Partly because he’d won the “sexiest legs” contest two years in a row, and partly because he had a bad boy quality, which made all of the girls want him.

Especially me. And damn the luck, I got a shot at him. When I discovered our date was based on a dare someone posed, I retaliated by publishing excerpts of his personal journal in the college’s monthly newsletter, The Bugle.

“Mr. Ramirez,” I said, trying to look harmless. “Of the award-winning legs.”

His expression changed as he looked at me and I knew he remembered our rocky past. My heart leapt into my throat. This was not the face of a man happy to see an old chum.

“Shannon Wallace, of the vigilantes for journalism,” he said, deadpan. “Mama said there would be days like this.”

Nope. He was not a happy cop.

He waved me into the room. “Come in.”

The entire office was a mess, most of it concentrated on two desks littered with papers.

“What are you doing here? Looking for a few good men to belittle in a new publication? Should I hide the personal notes on my cases?” he asked.
Sarcasm. I smiled. It was a beginning. He hadn’t forgotten, so that meant he intended on seeing I didn’t get a chance to repeat my past mistakes. Dandy by me. I just wanted to plead my case, and escape a free woman. If I never crossed the threshold here again, my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.

“I think you’ve held a grudge, but it was all in fun.”

“Fun?” He scanned the hallway before shutting the door. “You ruined every chance I ever had of getting a decent date. I never dreamed you would print my private journal for Christ’s sake.”

“It was no journal. It was a freaking scorecard.”

He frowned at me and turned away, muttering something in Spanish that sounded like curses.

Suddenly turning the details of my situation over to him didn’t seem like such a great idea. Had he harbored a desire for revenge all these years?
Dwayne’s words came to mind. I couldn’t have done it; criminals were innocent until proven guilty and all that jazz.

Would Sal see that?

“I’m not here to do an exposé on your life, Sal. I’m here about my own troubles. I need to tell a cop about a man who was murdered. But if you aren’t interested...”

He stopped clearing file folders from a metal folding chair and pinioned me with his Nestlé’s cocoa-colored eyes. “Murdered?”

“Yes. Richard Fine. Is he your case?”

“You know he is. Or have you given up your journalistic aspirations?” He shoved papers into the files. “Have you graduated from theft to murder, now?”

I sat there for a moment trying to squelch the anger that surfaced. “Would you stop being so disagreeable about what’s past between us and listen? You might get some information that could help you. I never intended to hurt you. It was a joke.”

“I don’t like your jokes.”

That was the final straw. “And I don’t like being made fun of. How much did they pay you to take me out on your little ‘dare date’ that night?”

He straightened, gripping the back of a nearby folding chair.


He carried the chair to where I stood, and I got a better look at him. He was a good deal taller than me, and even under the yellow Oxford shirt I saw he was well rippled with muscles, maleness, and menace. Sal seemed quite a different person from the jeans, golf shirts, and practical jokes days. The cologne was the same though. Aramis. I took a deep breath in appreciation.

The angry fire I’d stirred showed in his eyes. He skidded the metal chair a few feet forward. It made a scraping sound as it landed perfectly, facing his desk.

“Sit, Miss Wallace. Tell me why I should hear your story. And keep in mind I’m due for a meeting in about ten minutes.”

I sat and waited while he joined me behind his desk. It felt rather official all of a sudden. He crossed his hands and leaned forward, ready to hear my story.

“I was at Rick’s apartment at midnight. And when forensics finishes checking out his place, they’re going to find my hair and other assorted things.”

“Will they find your fingerprints on a knife?”

I thought about his question. We hadn’t done much cooking at Rick’s apartment, but there was the off chance that I had handled a steak knife. Or cleaver. I closed my eyes, and prayed Dwayne was right. I just knew I wouldn’t look good in a state uniform.

“They’ll find them on a lot of stuff. Do I need a lawyer present?”

November 24th, 2009, 05:50 PM
Love the excerpt.

Kim Smith
December 18th, 2009, 08:16 AM
Thanks! It is the first in the series.Book two is coming January 14

December 20th, 2009, 07:01 PM
Congratulations on the upcoming release Kim.

Kim Smith
January 9th, 2010, 09:27 AM
Buried Angel, book two in the Shannon Wallace Mysteries
coming January 14, 2010

January 10th, 2010, 06:34 PM
Do you have an excerpt to the second book you can post?

Kim Smith
January 11th, 2010, 09:57 AM

When Shannon and Dwayne are hired to videotape mysterious goings-on in the local cemetery in South Lake, Mississippi, they find more than just old tombstones, including a "plot" that has nothing to do with the dead!

Chasing creeps through the spongy, pre-Spring grounds after dark was not a part of the deal I'd made, and now I wished I'd gotten more money out of Scott. Maybe hazard duty pay was in order?
Hobbling along behind my lithe partner, I prayed he wouldn't notice my less than full speed attempt. He glanced over his shoulder to find me.
He noticed.
"Oh Lawd Jesus," he huffed as he slowed to allow me to catch up. "Tell me you are not wearin' those peach heels we bought at Macy's!"
"Okay," I grunted as mud squished underfoot. "I won't tell you. And they're not peach, they're apricot!"
Keeping the three dark silhouettes in view while maneuvering around the flat headstones embedded in the ground, I skirted the edges of the larger monuments. It was like playing chase in a maze in the dark.
"Don't step on that grave," Dwayne yelled behind me as I jetted ahead. "That's defacing the dead!"
I pulled up short, tried to miss the grave in question, and ended up scraping my side on the odd-shaped tombstone. This threw my whole forward movement out of whack and I suddenly felt my balance tilt. Holding the camera overhead, I struggled to keep my feet on the wet grass around the grave. Gravity worked against me and I swiveled to avoid landing on my side. My butt wasn't too happy with the change in plans when it took the impact.
The last time I'd landed on that part of my anatomy with such force, I caused my team to lose by sliding home on it in peewee baseball.
Dwayne skidded to a stop just before crashing on top of me. "Oh, shit!"
I moaned, trying to right myself, with one hand hobbled by the camera. I handed it to him. After brushing my derriere off and assessing the damage, I took a few experimental steps. A bruised tailbone, for certain, and a sore vanity to go along with it.
"Well, that proves one thing," Dwayne murmured from behind the viewfinder.
"What? That I'm a certifiable klutz? Everyone knows that. Turn the camera off."
He complied. "No, not that. Although you are one. It proves I was right. It ain't the dead walkin' around out here."
I turned to gaze at the empty landscape, void of runners. "It's not kids either."

January 12th, 2010, 06:00 PM
Love the excerpt Kim. It's great.

Kim Smith
November 9th, 2011, 10:07 AM
Coming soon, Crooked Angel, book three in the Shannon Wallace Mysteries. I have been out of touch with the forum for a long time, and it is so good to come back here and see so many people with nooks on the site!