I am currently enjoying bestselling status at Champagne Books for my Romantic Suspense, Bad Ice.

When hockey fan Christina Mackey prevents a murder attempt aimed at her idol Jason Petersen, the hockey scene she'd always worshiped from the outside suddenly surrounds her.



Jason had entertained a succession of beautiful women since his rookie year, but none were a substitute for his first relationship, which had ended in tragedy. Christina's gentle spirit reawakens him, and her daughter Mishayla reminds him of the child he could have had.


Jason is shocked to discover his girlfriend Sheila is behind the attempt on his life and quickly breaks off their relationship. But Sheila won't let go, using threats and manipulation in attempting to get him back.


As Jason's feelings grow toward Christina, his past threatens not only their happiness, but Christina's innocent daughter as well.

An Excerpt:

Christina Mackey squirmed with impatience at the refreshment kiosk. She knew the play had resumed and didn't like leaving her daughter alone in the stands.

At least Mishayla's safer in the platinum seats than in the nosebleed section. Christina reminded herself to send a thank you note to her boss for providing the tickets to the game. What a treat to watch from ice level instead of her usual perch in the greens far above the action. Even the cheap tickets were as rare and expensive as real platinum.

Two drinks and a tray of nachos teetered precariously in her arms as she reentered the seating area. She paused to shout with delight when the horn sounded for the home team’s goal, almost upsetting her load of snacks.

Cautiously resuming her trip further down the concrete steps, she was forced to halt again as a man stopped in front of her, blocking her way with his broad back.

"Excuse me, please." She barely heard her own voice above the noise of the raucous crowd. She tried again, louder, but the man didn't move. She tried move around him, annoyed, when he stretched his arms in front of him, pointing down the steps toward the home players’ bench.

She glanced over his shoulder and realized with a gasp that he held a gun.

Instinctively, she pushed her tray of refreshments in front of her. The icy soda and hot cheese sauce splattered against the back of the man’s head. Too late. He had already squeezed the trigger.

Everything happened at once. Nearby spectators jumped out of their seats at the sound of the loud crack, the man toppled down the shallow concrete steps, and the large sheet of safety glass behind the home players’ bench exploded and shattered into a thousand flying pieces.

Christina stood frozen with shock, hardly aware of the dripping remains of the ruined nachos still hanging loosely in her hand. The man had lost his grip on the gun, but he scrambled on his hands and knees to grab the weapon that had skittered across the floor. Horrified fans shouted and called for security. No one seemed inclined to lay their hands on the man as he rose to his knees and looked up at her.

He had fallen only a few steps, and she clearly saw by the look in his eyes that he was in a rage. He's crazy. She felt naked as she stood on the steps with no place to hide. Her eyes locked with the gunman's, and without further hesitation he grimaced and swung the instrument toward her.