Taking the Plunge by Margot Justes

I'm ready to take the plunge and take my novella A Fire Within the Kindle route.
I thought I'd share the beginning, in more ways than one; it is the beginning of a new experience for me and the beginning of A Fire Within.


"He burned. A fire within consumed him. He burned for his lost love.
He burned for vengeance. He burned with hatred.
***
Rebecca Standish was dreaming. She had to be, but the blaring ringing did not relent. She tossed restlessly in her bed, plagued by a recurring nightmare. Like always, it began with the dissonant ringing of the telephone demanding her attention. In the past the dreams would quickly morph into the hiss and crackle of flames. This time the noise was incessant and did not let up.

Drifting slowly towards consciousness, she turned on her side and put a pillow over her face. Still, the clanging continued. She jerked upright in bed and froze. Not again. Please not again. She reached for the phone waiting for doom.

“Miss Standish.” She heard a curt voice and listened with growing dread as a monotone voice spoke her name. Her alarm clock twinkled the witching hour in big red numbers. Midnight. She switched on the nightstand light, and mentally prepared herself.

“Yes.” she whispered “What happened? Is it a fire?” Afraid to hear the response, she tightened her hold on the phone. Her knuckles turned white from the effort and she forced herself to relax. Her gallery burned down once before. Facing that possibility again absolutely defeated her resolve. I can’t go through this again. Please God, don't let it be a fire.

“No, no fire but there is an emergency. The front window in your gallery was broken. The crash sounded the alarm. The police are on their way.”

“So am I. Thank you.” She hung up and covered her face with her hands. What now?
She threw a long sweater coat over her shoulders, and went downstairs to wait for a cab. Not a tall woman, five six in bare feet, Rebecca always wore heels that added to her height. She had a woman's body with curves in all the right places, and hair as black as night with eyes to match. She was a striking, self-assured woman who at the moment felt anything but; her gallery was in trouble once again, at least this time it wasn't engulfed in flames."

Till next time.
Margot Justes
www.mjustes.com
A Hotel in Paris