Pain exploded in his ribs.

Then in a thigh, close to his groin. Then again in his face. Each burst expanded until colliding with another, building into one shuddering, searing ball of agony.

He was suddenly gripped from behind and yanked bodily from the ground. The face came closer. Over his ragged breathing, he faintly heard, "The name of your client?"

Realization flowed over him, then a rush of stark terror. To give Terri's name would mean death for them both. He would not be able to deny them for long.

It wasn't hard to fake the faint, to collapse against the burly arms squeezing the air from his lungs, to hang limply. But the arms did not loosen their grip. Desperately, in total despair, he stomped downward, seeking an instep. A fist rammed up into his solar plexus.

The high keening wail pierced the sphere of raging agony. As if from a long way off. Jack wondered if it had been his. Then wondered if he would ever scream again. Then wondered nothing at all.

more excerpts

Terri Delaney is on her way to becoming a major player in the television news industry. She has an awesome ability to impact people in a positive way. But a blackmailer is intent upon destroying her.

While Jack Collier is a private investigator, very good at his work, he really wants nothing more to do with the business. His efforts seem to be creating more downer time than gains. But when he meets Terri, he comes to believe he can make a positive difference in her life.

While Jack continues to claim differently, he knows he may not make it happen. He and Terri face far greater power than any blackmailer can claim.

I finished the first version of "Blackmail" in 1990. The results simply were not good enough. So I laid it aside.

I turned back to the plot with a stronger set of characters in 1992. I wasn't able to sell it, and I've wondered about that. The plot is off-beat; this may be part of it. And the opening is a bit slow. But I do like the continuing crescendo that follows to the wrap. I hope you enjoy it as well.

Bob McElwain

P.S.: Here's a bit from the book I especially like.

"Wait?" she cried softly. "I'm sick of it. Now you're asking me to wait for a killer to find me ..."

Jack leaned over and captured both her hands in his. "Terri," he said fervently, "we're into the final laps. We've the fuel. The tires are good. And the engine is purring. Here's where we shove it to the floor. Run flat out. Take it right to the edge. God help me, but I think that's what this thing called living is all about."

"Oh how I wish I could feel that way."