Thursday, July 5, 2012
MEET COLLIN O'SHEA
COLLIN O'SHEA is the hero of LIVING THE LEGACY, book #3 of my Legacy Series. He's a State Police sniper who falls in love with a sheltered, small town woman--an innocent balm to his jaded soul.
EXCERPT from LIVING THE LEGACY
(copyright Genene Valleau, writing as Genie Gabriel)
Collin O'Shea sighted through the crosshairs of his rifle to a perfect target on the skull of the hostage taker. His breathing slow and steady; his pulse solid and even. The perfect calm had earned him the nickname "The Rock" among some of his peers.
An early childhood of dodging fists and anger had taught Collin to shove down his emotions and focus on survival. He carried that same focus into adulthood and his job as a sniper assigned to the State Police SWAT team.
Negotiations had dragged on for two hours while Collin lay motionless on his belly on this high desert ridge. His stillness and the camouflage pattern of his uniform blended into the sagebrush so well the rock chucks had cautiously peeked their noses out of their underground burrows.
He ignored them and focused on the target until the message "stand down" came over his earpiece.
A few moments later, the suspect exited the house with his hands above his head. Soon after he was cuffed and deposited in a patrol car, his ex-wife and three kids were hustled out a side door and into another vehicle. This time, the hostages were safe.
Only then did Collin slowly stand and stretch the stiffness out of his body…
As he walked back to his vehicle, his cell phone vibrated. He listened to the message as he stowed his gear. A middle-aged woman asking to see him had shown up at the station. Gave her name as Sally Harris and said she'd wait.
Considering his other choices of a cold, empty house or driving a hundred-fifty miles to try to set things right with his family, Collin decided to talk to the woman. Maybe she had information on a case.
When he arrived, Collin studied the woman for a moment. Five-foot-fourish, a thickened waist under a gray sweatshirt that put her at about a hundred and fifty pounds, Caucasian, dull brown hair with streaks of gray, no obvious identifying scars or tattoos.
She didn't look familiar, but seemed to know him. As soon as he entered the lobby, she straightened and stared at him, her blue eyes surprisingly alert and focused in a face that otherwise appeared puffy and worn.
"I'm O'Shea. I understand you were looking for me."
"You're just as I imagined," she said.
"Do you have information on a case?" Collin asked.
The woman's laughter cackled through the lobby, turning a few curious gazes toward them. "Perhaps. But this visit is personal. Just to see you."
The hairs on Collin's neck stiffened. The woman looked relatively benign, but her words suggested otherwise. "You can call the station if you have information for me."
"Oh, I will." The woman nodded as she shuffled out of the building. "I will."
"What was that all about?" another trooper asked.
Collin was asking himself the same question.