Romantic Suspense and Thriller

Waiting For Wren By Cate Beauman

Friday, November 01, 2013

When the past and present collide…

Wren Cooke has everything she’s ever wanted—a thriving career as one of LA’s top interior designers and a home she loves. Business trips, mockups, and her demanding clientele keep her busy, almost too busy to notice Ethan Cooke Security’s gorgeous Close Protection Agent, Tucker Campbell.

Jaded by love and relationships in general, Wren wants nothing to do with the hazel-eyed stunner and his heart-stopping grins, but Tucker is always in her way. When Wren suddenly finds herself bombarded by a mysterious man’s unwanted affections, she’s forced to turn to Tucker for help.

As Wren’s case turns from disturbing to deadly, Tucker whisks her away to his mountain home in Utah. Haunted by memories and long-ago tragedies, Tucker soon realizes his past and Wren’s present are colliding. With a killer on the loose and time running out, Tucker must discover a madman’s motives before Wren becomes his next victim.


Read an excerpt from Waiting For Wren:


She walked quickly, her eyes darting everywhere. She just had to get to the door and step inside. The panic button was in the entryway if she needed it. The police would come help her, along with whoever was fielding calls at Ethan’s company tonight. “I’m almost there. I’m almost there,” she whispered, flinching, blinking, startled as the sensor lights flashed on to brighten the walkway. The security lights. It was just the security lights. She forgot she reactivated the feature the night of the gala. She took another step forward and saw the blood by the pretty pot of red mums. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” A black cat lay on her step, decapitated and bloated in a pool of dark, congealed crimson.

“Oh my…”

Her breath rushed in and out as she stumbled back. The cellphone in her clammy hand rang, and she screamed. Blindly, she pressed “talk.” “Hell—hello?”

“Do you like it?” someone whispered.

She whirled, scanning, searching for Rex. He was here, somewhere. He had to be.

“Why won’t you call me?” The whisper turned into a pathetic whine. “Why won’t you call me, Wren?”

“Stop,” she shuddered out as she hurried to her car, looking over her shoulder from time to time, sure he was waiting to pounce. “Stop doing this. I’m calling the police.”

The whining stopped abruptly and turned into mad, riotous laughter. “They won’t believe you! They won’t believe you!”

“Leave me alone!” She hung up, gasping for air. Tears poured down her cheeks, and her hand shook as she opened her door, took her seat, and locked herself in. She had to get out of here. She had to get away. It took her two tries to shove the key in the ignition as she glanced at the bloodstained step once more and backed out with a squeal of tires. She sped off, heading toward Ethan’s until she remembered he was gone and a quarter of his house had been gutted for the new edition. All of them were gone—Ethan, Hunter, and Austin. She pressed ‘one’ on her speed dial, listening to the repetitive ringing. Ethan’s smooth voice told her to leave a message, but she hung up instead. She turned down another street, taking her farther from her home, and punched in Ethan Cooke Security’s twenty-four hour assistance line.

“Ethan Cooke Security. This is Mia.”

“Mia, it’s Wren.”

“Wren, are you okay?”

“Yes.” Her voice broke, and she shook her head as she clutched the wheel with one hand. “No. No, I’m not. There’s a dead cat on my porch.”

“Oh.”

That didn’t exactly describe the horror she’d just backed away from. “Someone killed a cat and left it on my front step.”

“Oh my god. Where are you?”

“In my car.” She sniffed. “Driving around. I don’t want to go back to my house alone.”

“Of course not. Let me patch you through to Tucker Campbell. He’s on call.”

Tucker? “No, wait—” But it was too late. Soothing music played in her ear.

“Wren?” Tucker’s deep voice hummed with concern.

Her lip wobbled, and tears began to fall again. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“What’s going on? Mia said something about a dead cat?”

“Someone chopped some sweet cat’s head off and put the body on my front step.”

He muttered a swear. “Are you there now?”

“No, I’m in my car, driving around. It freaked me out. I don’t want to be at the house by myself.”

“I don’t want you there either. Come to my place until we get this figured out.”

If choking fingers of terror didn’t have her by the throat, she would’ve refused, but Tucker was offering his help. She needed help. “I don’t—I don’t know where you live.”

“Ocean View Apartments, off Highway One.”

“What if he follows me? He might be following me right now.” She glanced in the rearview mirror and cringed as headlights trailed behind her.

“Who?”

“Rex.”

“Who the hell is Rex?”

“The crazy bastard who left the dead cat on my porch.”

“Son of a bitch, Cooke. Don’t stop. Don’t’ pull over. Drive on a flat tire if you have to. Just get here. I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Okay,” she sniffed, too afraid to be prideful. “I’m about ten minutes away.”

Did you enjoy the excerpt? You can read the first three chapters on my website, www.catebeauman.com

About the author:


“I’m a pretty lucky girl; one day I woke up and my entire life changed. I saw the light, so to speak, and decided I was going to be a writer. Now, two years later, I’m working on my sixth novel and I’m an Amazon best selling author. I’m very grateful for the support and success I have had. - Cate “


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