I want to say he’s crazy or scold him for his recklessness but in the year we’ve been married, I’ve learned to relax and trust him. Unwilling to stress his healthy knee, Zach has given up running and biking in favor of long distance swimming. His race and Olympic event, if he qualifies for the 2016 team, is a ten-kilometer swim through the Atlantic Ocean along the lovely Copacabana Beach, 6.2 miles dealing with currents, seaweed, even jellyfish and other sea creatures. Zach has been training in Port Phillip Bay half of the year and San Francisco Bay the other half; hence, it’s always summer for our family.
“I’m looking forward to it.” I linger on an open-mouthed kiss. Lilibeth squeals and wriggles, wanting her father’s attention. I rub her downy hair and tickle her. At a little over three months old, she’s definitely more social than her brother. Her eyes flit between mine and Zach’s, and she smiles while babbling and gurgling, every movement dainty.
Zach ruffles my hair and scoops a giggling Lilibeth into his muscular arms. “I’m taking her swimming.”
He has a waterproof swimming prosthesis, which also allows him to walk on it. Of course, he can’t wear it while racing, since the fin is seen as an unfair advantage.
“Okay, don’t be too long. Me and the little guy, we’ll take a nap.” I yawn and stretch in the shade on the cot. Ry unlatches with a loud burp and falls asleep before his head hits the canvas. Men!
***
That night, we tuck the twins into a covered raft, and Zach drags them to the cove while I swim at their side. It’s hard to believe that a year ago, we married on this island. It turns out Zach’s family owns this piece of rock and all the goats on it. We did marry again in Manila to satisfy our families and church, but this is where I had first pledged my heart to him.
Detective Harper concluded Cliff’s father, Felipe, committed the murder. One of his duties at the greenhouse was to spray the pesticides, and he wore rubber gloves and protective gear to do the job. After my father escaped, Felipe tracked him to Australia, bringing his son, who he’d kidnapped from the adoptive parents. Thankfully the DNA results confirmed Felipe had fathered Cliff. It would have been totally creepy if Cliff had flirted with me, knowing he was my half-brother.
Cliff is in an Australian jail convicted of kidnapping, extortion and other crimes. He had planted tracking software on my phone as well as Zach’s and hacked into Zach’s bank accounts. He also bribed Vic and Tom who worked in Zach’s father’s fishing fleet to cast suspicion on the Spencers. Apparently the redhead who caused all the trouble was part of the gang. She was caught playing online games with Vic while Tom drove to the marina the night my brothers and I were kidnapped.
It turns out Dex and Ben had not been beaten and hospitalized as Cliff claimed. They spent the time imprisoned in a warehouse forced to listen to Cliff’s buddies’ screamo band. Ugh, a torture worse than death.
Cliff was also behind sending the fake notecards from Mrs. Spencer, having the redhead mail them from Australia while he texted me, pretending to be my father. Being Tito Louie’s friend, he pumped information from him to make the messages appear authentic.
But my father had his ways, too. He wooed my mother under a screen name and followed my singing videos on YouTube. He admitted to being Tatay and my mother’s online boyfriend. Of course, Mama felt guilty about it, as if she’d been cheating, but she let it slide that my father actually had another family. She told me true love doesn’t keep tabs.
After the investigation concluded, my parents remarried and retired to Batangas in the Philippines. My father turned Ping Crest Winery over to me, Dex, and Ben. They work the wine and grape growing side, while I participate in marketing, benefit concerts, and otherwise enjoy my share of the profits. But mostly, I take care of my two babies. Lilibeth and Ry were born October 22, 2014.
Sadly, Tito Louie passed on before his grandchildren were born, but he sat in on the five-month ultrasound. I was able to lead him to Christ on his deathbed, and he’s looking forward to the day we meet again.
The tide laps the sandbar as we float through the arch. I help Zach push the raft onto the fine, powdery sand. I pick up Ry, and he flashes me a wide-mouthed, crooked grin, his arms and legs wiggling nonstop. Zach cuddles Lilibeth, but she’s fast asleep. He carefully places the raft well above the waterline and tucks her in, making sure she’s cozy.
“I’m afraid this visit won’t be as exciting as it was a year ago,” Zach says. He pulls me into his lap and kisses the hollow of my neck. His hands slide appreciatively over the contours of my body as he wraps his legs around me.
“At least they’re still young enough for us to swim naked,” I reply. “Let me put our boy away. He’s nodding off.”
I arrange Ry next his sister, his tiny snores blowing her hair with each breath. Zach feathers his hands around my waist. Gently, he slides me into the moonlit pool and trails kisses up and down.
“How did I get so lucky?” I moan, enthralled by his undivided attention. “That you’d love me so.”
Dripping wet, he leans his forehead against mine. “It’s because I know you, Vera.”
“Knowing you, Zach, is loving you.” My lips sweep over his, and we join, fitted together perfectly.
THE END
Thank you for reading. I sincerely hope you enjoyed Knowing Vera. I would love to know your reactions and feelings about my book. Please consider leaving a review at your blog, Amazon, Goodreads, or contact me.
You can reach me at my blog: http://www.rachelleayala.com or website: http://rachelleayala.me. I look forward to hear from you.
Please subscribe to my mailing list http://eepurl.com/lR5kv for updates on my writing and events.
Thanks and God bless you, Rachelle
Vera’s Recipes
Pancit Bihon
½ lb large shrimp, shelled and cleaned, mixed with cornstarch
1 lb thin sliced steak, cut into thin strips, mixed with cornstarch
3 scallions, chopped
6 cloves garlic, minced
3 slices ginger, minced
Shredded romaine lettuce, 2 cups
Assorted vegetables (Chinese snow peas, straw mushrooms, chopped orange bell pepper, whatever you have)
8 oz package Pancit Bihon (thin rice sticks)
2 Tbsp soy sauce
1 Tbsp fish sauce
2 Tbsp lime juice or calamansi
1 tsp Tabasco sauce (or more to taste)
1 Tbsp banana ketchup
Pepper to taste
Cooking oil
Water or chicken broth
Heat oil in a wok. Stir fry beef until tender. Add shrimp, scallions, garlic and ginger mixture. Cook until shrimp just turns color.
Stir in vegetables and sauce ingredients. Sprinkle pepper to taste.
Boil water or chicken broth while cooking above.
Immerse rice sticks for a few minutes, pull out and fold into the wok with the meat and vegetable mix. Let most of the liquid be absorbed by the rice sticks and serve.
Garnish with lemon slices, cilantro
Variation: substitute thinly sliced pork loin for beef and 1 tsp bagoong for the tabasco sauce
Striped Sea Bass
2 large sea bass, cleaned, scaled, and headless
½ cup tomato ketchup or banana ketchup
1 Tbsp soy sauce
1 Tbsp fish sauce
2 Tbsp lime juice
1 Tbsp cooking sherry
1 tsp sugar
3 scallions, chopped
6 cloves garlic, minced
3 slices ginger, minced
3 dried hot peppers, chopped or ½ tsp red pepper flakes
½ orange bell pepper, chopped into tiny pieces
Cooking oil
Score the fish vertically at 1 inch intervals
Heat oil in wok until hot. Fry each side of the fish for 5 minutes, pouring hot oil with a ladle on the exposed side
Set fish aside
Heat a tablespoon of the oil in a nonstick skillet. Add in chopped scal
lions, garlic, ginger, and hot peppers.
Add chopped bell pepper
Stir in sauce mixture until reduced.
Pour sauce mixture over fish and serve with rice.
A good side dish to serve this with is sautéed kangkóng (kōngxīncài or ong choy) with minced garlic, 1 Tbsp dark soy sauce and 1 Tbsp lime or calamansi juice.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my critique partners and beta readers: Melisa Hamling, Chantel Rhondeau, Flara Richards, Stefanie J. Pristavu, F.L. Williams, Leilani Sullivan, Emerald Barnes, Michele Shriver, my daughter Lori, Heather Pfingsten, Elena, H. Elliston, Brandi Pletcher, Cate Beauman, Christi Moné Marie, Gina Dragone, C.K. Raggio, and Michelle Jossette.
I also appreciate the help of Stacy Eaton on police procedures, Katie Mettner on amputation recovery and prosthesis details, Rebecca Berto, the resident expert living in Melbourne, Australia, and Gina Dragone, who visited the Dandenongs for me. Leilani Sullivan and Stella Torres provided details on Filipino culture and customs.
I’m grateful for my editor, Lauren K. McKellar, for her careful edits and detailed comments. My cover artist, Robin Ludwig, created the perfect cover, capturing a poignant moment for Vera and Zach. And finally, my writing coach, Melissa Foster, pushed and prodded me to personalize Vera and make her more sympathetic by giving me concrete examples of places to fill in her emotions.
Thank you all for enduring my questions and supporting me in moments of indecision and uncertainty.
Finally, no book is complete until served to readers. Many thanks to each and every one of you who gave me a chance. Your blog posts, messages, reviews, and emails motivate me to come up with more fun and exciting stories. Happy Reading and Have Fun!
About the Author
Rachelle Ayala is the author of dramatic fiction crossing genres and boundaries featuring strong but flawed characters. She writes emotionally challenging stories and is not afraid of controversial topics. However, she is an optimist and laces her stories with romance and hope.
Rachelle is an active member of online critique group, Critique Circle, and a volunteer for the World Literary Cafe. She is a very happy woman and lives in California with her husband. She has three children and has taught violin and made mountain dulcimers.
Visit her at: Website: http://rachelleayala.me Blog: http://www.rachelleayala.com or follow @AyalaRachelle on Twitter. Subscribe to mailing list for upcoming books and giveaways. http://eepurl.com/lR5kv
Meet Jen and Dave in Broken Build (Silicon Valley Romantic Suspense), a story of redemption and healing. Can a man love a woman who caused the greatest calamity in his life? Mix in a huge dose of chemistry, an unsolved murder, a missing child, and a relentless adversary. Can Jen and Dave's budding romance survive or will her secret tear them apart forever?
Chance for Love Series #1
Excerpt Copyright © 2012 Rachelle Ayala
All Rights Reserved
Chapter 1
The gangbanger car drove by, its ground effects practically hugging the asphalt. Jen Jones raced through a vacant lot littered with beer bottles. She pushed the timer on her sports watch and jogged up the potholed driveway of her apartment complex.
The garish pink two-level building could have passed for a quick-stop motel. Bars covered the windows, and the pulsing of Mexican corridos, accordion and bass horns, blared from an open door. Despite the popular image, Silicon Valley was not all red tile roofs, German cars, and venture capital.
The car slowed. A man waved a red bandana and hooted, “Ay mamacita!”
Stupid wannabes. Jen slipped off her sweatband and stepped into the foyer. Sherry, her roommate, walked by with her golden retriever, Max.
“Muscle Boy’s been by again,” she said.
Not good news. Jen stopped at the mailbox and opened it. A small pink envelope dropped to the ground.
Sherry picked it up and handed it to her. “For you. Baby shower? Wedding?”
Jen stuffed the envelope into her pocket. “Junk mail.”
Max strained at his leash and whined. Sherry tilted her chin toward the street. “I told him you’d be back after your run.”
“Sure, whatever.” Jen rushed through the small courtyard and bounded up the stairs. Once inside her bedroom, she tore the envelope and pulled out an aftershave-scented note.
Silence comes with the right price, but LOVE conquers all.
Unsigned and not amusing. She turned the page over. Indentations. Definitely heavy-handed. Ugh. Muscles were way overrated. She tossed the note into the trash and rummaged under her mattress for five twenties. This blackmail game was getting old. If only she could stop him for good…
After a quick shower, Jen pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a sweater and placed her laptop on the kitchen table. The slanted rays of the setting sun reflected off the screen. Another Saturday evening with nothing to look forward to but work. Better check the software build. A few keystrokes later, Jen connected to her company’s network. Her coworker Praveena’s instant messaging window popped up with its attending ringtone.
Praveena: I need to check in a fix. The build’s broken.
Jen: Again?
Praveena: Sorry.
Heavy knocking vibrated the door. “Jen, you there?”
Jen’s jaw tightened along with her fists. He wasn’t supposed to meet her here. She ignored him, but the banging continued. “I know you’re in there.”
She yanked the door open before he disturbed the neighbors. Rey Custodio, aka Muscle Boy, stood on the doormat.
She groaned, not bothering to hide her aggravation. “You promised to stay away.”
He raised his sunglasses over spiked black hair and wiggled his snakelike eyebrows. “Hey, hey, missed you at the gym.”
“I’ll get your money. Wait here.” She moved to close the door, but he blocked it with his shoulder and sidestepped into her apartment.
“Actually, I came to see you.”
“I’m busy right now.” Jen gestured toward her computer. The instant messaging app jingled, and Jen brushed past Rey to her laptop.
Praveena: Checked in.
Jen: OK, will restart.
Rey pulled a chair to the kitchen table and straddled it backward.
“I didn’t invite you in.” Jen moved the laptop away from his prying eyes. She logged into the build servers and scanned the error messages. The build had already aborted on a compile error deep in the source tree. Scrolling through the code, she located Praveena’s latest changes and labeled them.
Rey placed a memory stick on the table. “The code you gave me last week broke.”
“Broke? Or you couldn’t take the time to figure it out?” Jen typed in a few more commands, checked the available disk space, and started the build script. She blew between her teeth. What would it take to shake Rey loose from her? The leech.
“I need your help, sweetie.” He beamed at her with his arms across the back of the chair.
Jen pushed the stick back to him. “I only left out a few steps. Don’t you want to learn anything?”
He trapped her hand. “I could be more forgetful if you’d cooperate.”
She stared at the back of his square hand, decorated with the sharp points of a tattoo. She had to remain calm—perhaps mislead him—make him think what he had on her wasn’t that important. Yeah, right. If her company did a thorough background check, she’d be fired, maybe even jailed.
She met his eyes with a confidence she did not feel. “It’s better for you to figure out things for yourself. I can’t take the tests for you.”
Rey let go of her and grinned. “Go out with me. Since you haven’t given me good code, you owe me dinner and dancing.”
“I’m not sure how you figure that.” Jen backed from the table. Why would he want her company’s code for an intro computer science class at State? Sweat moistened Jen’s palms. She couldn’t betray her employer, but she couldn’t allow Rey to spill what he knew.
“We should renegotiate.”
He walked to the fridge and helped himself to a soda.
“That’s Sherry’s.” Jen snatched the can from him and put it back. “What do you really want?”
“If I like you, I might forget your faults.” He opened his hands and flashed his white teeth, looking surprisingly handsome, for a moment.
Perhaps he could be charmed into keeping his mouth shut. Besides, Jen had nothing better to do. Sherry had the night off, and sitting through the Saturday night primetime lineup while babysitting the build was not exactly top on Jen’s bucket list. Neither was going out with her blackmailer, but a girl’s gotta do…
“If I have dinner with you, you’ll call off the blackmail?”
One side of his face lifted in a sideways leer, and he crowded her against the kitchen counter, his aftershave overpowering like chemical waste. “Depends on how much you beg.”
Yuck. Jen stomped to her bedroom and grabbed the five twenties. She returned and waved them in his face. “This isn’t working out. Take it and leave.”
“Jennifer, Jennifer, you’re my date tonight.” He pushed the money back. “I’ll be a good boy. Promise.”
Jen swallowed hard and stuffed the bills in her pocket. “Name’s not Jennifer. It’s Jen. Jen Jones.”
“Jennifer Cruz, you can’t hide from him forever.” He shook his head with the grim expression of a doctor pronouncing a death sentence. “Might as well fess up.”
“He can’t know. If I lose my job, who’s going to pay your bills?” She shot what she hoped was a stun-gun glare. “Besides, what’s with the baby pink envelopes?”
Knowing Vera (Romantic Suspense, Family Drama) (Chance for Love) Page 27