A Peek at The Heat

Excerpt from my novel, The Heat

Damn stupid cat.

“Here Waffles.  Here, boy.  Kitty, kitty.  Come on, Waffles.”

I looked everywhere for that cat.  I had been calling it for ten minutes, no results.  I thought about the fact I could still be snuggled in Max’s arms—comfortable in his bed, but no.  I had to drive home in the middle of the night to feed the cat.

It was probably under the porch.  Looking out.  Mocking me.

I admitted defeat.  I filled the cat’s bowl with dried cat food and changed his drinking water.  He would come home and eat in his own time. 

I locked the front door and went to the kitchen.  The note Angie had scribbled out for me lay by my purse.  James Wilson.  I didn’t have to guess what he wanted.  Ever since he got wind of the fact finances were tight, he’d been trying to negotiate a deal with me.  He wanted to buy The Heat.  His last offer was decent.  It could have been a million dollars though, and it wouldn’t have mattered.  The thought of James Wilson owning Lila’s Café, the thought of a stranger running The Heat…unacceptable.  That little café encompassed more than my livelihood.  It was my past, my present, and as far as I could tell, my future.  The Heat was family.  You didn’t bail on family.

Family--something I didn’t have much of.  Didn’t have any to be exact.  Gran was gone.  My sweet Kam was gone.  And, even though she was still very much alive (as far as I knew, anyway), my momma was gone too.  She left the day Kam died.  Oh, she didn’t physically walk away until later, but the day Kam died momma drifted away.  I saw the light fade from her eyes.  I had killed Kam and knowing that had killed my momma.