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Apprehension knotted in Luz Maria's stomach, and without
warning, a dull throbbing reawakened in her ribs. Something
wasn't right here, her intuition cried out. Something just as
serious as a metal shopping cart with a masked man running
"Do I know you?" she repeated as the investigator closed in on
He stopped at her bedside, too close to it for comfort. From
that vantage, he looked straight down, as if she were a bug he
was thinking about squashing.
"No you don't," he told her. "But I think you damned well
* * *
Grant felt the pounding of his heart, heard the roar of blood
rushing through his arteries as black dots clouded his vision.
But the harder he struggled to screw the lid back on his
temper, the more the heat and pressure built-until he finally
"Before I made investigator, John Zeman was my partner. For
three years, the two of us worked the streets together-three
years I trusted that man with my life. Went to his kid's
christening, ate barbeque with his wife and his little girls ...
the same family I was trying to spare when I washed my
best friend's brains off his bathroom wall. Because of you."
He was still shaking when the torrent eased, when he raked his
fingers through his hair again and sighed out a deep breath.
Now that his vision had cleared, he saw Luz Maria sitting up,
her weight braced on her hands and fear shining in a pair of
deep brown eyes. Beautiful eyes, he couldn't help but notice,
though exhaustion underscored them and they were filmed with
She looked right at him nonetheless, her gaze unblinking and
her voice steady, though still hoarse. "I'm very sorry for
your loss, but I-"
Without warning, he went off again, despite the knowledge that
a woman like Luz Maria Montoya knew a hundred ways to make him
pay-maybe even with his job.
"But you what?" he demanded. "You get paid to take the word
of a pair of fucking crack whores over a decorated veteran
officer, a family man, for God's sake, who-"
"I know he was a family man. I thought about it, too, believe
me. But what was I supposed to do, let him keep raping women,
hurting them so badly, they-?"
"The Z-man would never-"
"The evidence said otherwise," she argued, "and what's more, I
believed those women. And when all was said and done, so did
your own department's Internal Affairs Division. And we both
know how badly they wanted to find someone else to blame."
Her words carried a quiet conviction that he couldn't help
admire-even if she was in the wrong. With sickening clarity,
his mind flashed to the rumors of photographs he'd heard
about-of the battered female bodies scored by something-the
women claimed a shard of broken glass-along the inside of
their thighs and all around their nipples. Sick designs
carved by a monster, not the man Grant knew.
Luz Maria Montoya, the woman who had taken the charges public,
actually believed John Zeman did the crimes. Grant couldn't
decide whether the idea made him hate her more or less.
"What I was trying to say before you interrupted," she
continued, "is that I want another investigator here tonight.
A different investigator. It's obvious you can't put aside
your personal feelings to handle this case. Not that I can
blame you. It must have been incredibly difficult, living
Grant's laugh was ragged-and utterly devoid of humor. "Save
your sympathy-and your reservations. From now on, I promise
you, we'll stick to the subject at hand. So how's the neck
Luz Maria pursed her lips, anger flashing over her expression
as she brought her hand up to her throat, where
fingerprint-shaped bruises had begun to bloom. "It hurts,
what do you think? Whenever I close my eyes, I can still feel
him digging into me and shaking. I couldn't breathe, I
Her gaze sliced sideways, avoiding his. Trembling visibly,
her arms twined around her torso. "The whole time, he kept
screaming at me, calling me bitch and-and-"
Her attention snapped back to Grant's face. "What do you
care, anyway? You've as good as told me you're rooting for
the other team."
He read the pain in her eyes, measured how it mingled with her
courage and her furious, clipped words. And was blindsided by
the whole-hearted desire to set this right for her, to keep
her safe to go on wreaking havoc in God only knew how many
other lives. And it wasn't only the whole
to-protect-and-serve trip. His instinctive response, he
suspected, had just as much to do with her beautiful though
bruised face and the slender set of curves outlined beneath
her bed's sheet. God help him, he thought with disgust, his
better sense was swimming upstream against a torrent of
Even so, he heard himself spouting the whole Joe Friday bit.
"It's my job to care, ma'am. Now tell me what happened, from
the start. What first drew your attention to this person?"
"The fact that he was racing at me behind a shopping cart,"
she began before reclining with a sigh against her pillows and
staring toward the dark field of the curtained window.
As she continued speaking, he interrupted from time to time
with questions meant to prize more information from her. In
his opinion, she was being honest, especially when she claimed
she hadn't recognized the voice-or anything else-of her masked
attacker. The only thing she seemed sure of was that he'd
called her by name, which indicated the assault was personal
instead of random, and that he was a man. But that wasn't
exactly a hot clue, since manual strangulation was an
almost-exclusively male crime.
"I tried clawing at his hands," Luz Maria told him, "but my
nails kept catching-I think he was wearing gloves."
Grant glanced at her fingers, whose chipped and torn nails
bore witness to her statement. He made a mental note to have
a crime tech come in and see if any hairs or fibers remained.
It wouldn't be the most bankable of evidence, since unlike a
corpse's, a living victim's hands weren't bagged at the scene,
but it might help confirm or eliminate a suspect later.
"And then I remembered about going for the eyes." Luz Maria's
voice was seriously hoarse now, and exhaustion had settled in
more deeply, shadowing her face. "But I couldn't find them.
And everything went black and ..."
"So you never reached inside your purse or struggled with him
for a firearm?"
She gave her head a shake, then winced at the movement. "Was
there a gun?"
"Not that we could find. What about a knife? Do you remember
Her gaze slid to meet his. "Wait-there was a sound, right
around the time I passed out. Mostly, all I heard was his
screaming at me, but there was this popping, like cracks of
thunder or a car backfiring. Could that have been shots?"
"Sounds about right, and there was blood at the scene. Quite
a bit more than we think you lost." He tried on a smile.
"You sure you didn't bite him, clip a jugular?"
To his surprise, she laughed, a brittle sound that made her
cough. Her hand went to her throat, and once again, she
"I wish I'd gotten in a bite or two," she told him, her
eyelids drooping with fatigue, "but whatever you might think
of me, I don't come equipped with fangs."
Grant reminded himself that Luz Maria Montoya, Houston's Voice
of Poverty, knew other ways to draw blood. As did he, with
the questions he must ask about her private past. Yet when
her eyes closed, he decided to let it rest for the time being.
Instead he watched her, like the setting moon, slide back
down into sleep.
Excerpted from Heat Lightning
by Colleen Thompson
Copyright © 2006 by Colleen Thompson.
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Posted October 28, 2006
Luz Maria Montoya has worked tirelessly the past three years as the Voice of Poverty spokesperson for those not in a position to speak for themselves. Regretting her heart¿s foolish indiscretions with an ex-boyfriend that threatened those she loved and caused her the greatest loss of her young life, she sought redemption by serving others. In doing so, she has ruffled politicians, business leaders, and prominent sports figures and drawn the ire of unbalanced supporters and fans along the way. So an occasional threat letter is no big deal to her. But when a hooded assailant jumps her in a parking lot, wraps his hands around her neck and almost squeezes the life from her, she has to face the reality of the unrest she has created. ------- Homicide detective Grant Holcombe harbors a personal vendetta against the outspoken woman. When Internal Affairs investigated Grant¿s partner two years before and found him guilty of the allegations Luz Maria had brought to light, Zeman killed himself, leaving a grieving widow and two young daughters. Grant¿s remorse at not being able to help his partner has fueled his anger at Luz Maria.------- Now he¿s been called upon to investigate her assault. Grant knows he shouldn¿t be involved in her case, but when continued threats turn to a vicious related murder, and her vulnerability edges through her brave front, his attraction to this exceptional woman grows and he will risk everything to protect her. But isn¿t his love for Luz Maria the utmost betrayal of sweet Sherry Zeman, her two girls, and the memory of their dead father?------- The heavy blanket of heat and humidity that envelops Houston, Texas, in August permeates this fast-paced thriller, a roller-coaster ride of action and frightening surprises. And much like the corrupted light of the vapor lamps that muted the eerie parking lot where Luz Maria was first attacked, the path traveled by Luz Maria and Grant to safety is fraught with blind curves and dead ends. Entwined with this scary suspense erupts a sizzling love affair between Luz and Grant as hot as heat lightning in a dark summer sky.------- Colleen Thompson once again delivers a fabulous page-tuner filled with excitement and intrigue. Start with FADE THE HEAT, its predecessor, and finish with HEAT LIGHTNING, a great read with a hero we can all love and a heroine who makes us proud.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted December 9, 2008
In Houston, an assailant wanting to silent Voice of Poverty spokesperson Luz Maria Montoya assaults the woman, who ends up hospitalized. Police Investigators Grant Holcomb and his relatively new partner Billy Devlin investigate the attack on the community activist. Grant detests Luz Maria who he blames for the suicide death of his former partner John Zeman when her accusations of his being a rapist stuck Grant cannot accept that a family man like Zeman would attack crack females.---------------- Luz Maria tells Grant to forget her case since he has an ax to grind. He vows to remain professional, but finds that difficult to maintain as he wants the woman whose cold actions led to his former partner taking his life. Still the consummate cop, Grant with Billy¿s odd help begin to make inquiries into a sociopath who knows Luz Maria intimately with the assumption being that her former lover wants her dead. Grant will risk his life to keep the woman he once hated but now loves safe.--------------------- Luz Maria¿s return (see FADE THE HEAT) is a solid romantic suspense thriller with the emphasis more on the changing relationship between the cop and the activist than on who is stalking her. Readers will know who the culprit is early on by simple elimination as there are few if any other potential competitors. Still this is a well written fun damsel in distress thriller because of Grant¿s attitude towards the woman he must protect.------------- Harriet KlausnerWas this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 26, 2010
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Posted September 19, 2010
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