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Prologue
If he was reading her surprised expression right, she was expecting somebody else to be on the other side of the door when she swung it wide open. Cautiously, the willowy blonde pushed the door partly closed before politely inquiring if she could help him.
Justin took his time letting his eyes roam from her short, tousled hair down to her very long legs. He noticed, in typical male fashion, how very shapely those long legs were. She was wearing a loose fitting shirt and cut off jeans, her feet were bare.
Layne felt uncomfortable as the stranger’s eyes made their leisurely excursion. She closed the door just a little bit more and then fortified her courage with the thought that her nosy neighbor, Mrs. Addamson, would open her door at the least little yell she might make.
“Is there something you want?” She impatiently asked him and then blushed when his eyes flew up to meet hers with an amused smile.
Oh baby, where have you been all my life? He thought and then smiled politely. “I was looking for…” he carefully checked a piece of paper he held in his hand. “…for Layne Gillette.” Justin said ‘Lane’.
She refrained from correcting his pronunciation. For the last few years, Layne had explained to people that it was pronounced like Janie except with an L.
“Who’s asking?” No matter that he seemed to fit the exact description of tall, dark and handsome that she and her friends always joked about, she was wary of any stranger who came looking for her.
“My name is Justin Ross…” He waited just a moment to see if there was any recognition, he was disappointed. “I was told that Layne Gillette lives here.”
“It’s Lay-nee…” She was expressionless.
“Hi, I take it you’re Lay-nee?” His eyebrows arched as he emphasized the proper pronunciation.
“What do you want?” Layne inconspicuously braced herself against the door so she could slam it forcefully in his face if need be.
“It’s… uh… personal. May I come in?” He was mesmerized by her golden eyes.
“No.” She was firm.
It took a moment before her refusal totally sunk in. Not many dared to refuse Justin Ross anything. He took a deep breath in and started to patiently explain to her that he needed to speak with her privately. “Look, I just came a long way… and we really need to talk…”
“Hey Mom, is that Rita?” The childlike voice startled the both of them. Layne turned her head to answer when Justin pushed on the door with his hand and knocked her off-balance. The door swung open and Justin got his first look at the little boy who had his mother’s golden eyes. Like his own hair, the boy had jet-black curly locks and the contrast was extraordinary.
“Is that him?” Justin pushed his way past Layne and went to the boy. “Are you Dennis?”
The little boy stared at the stranger who had pushed past his mother. Justin didn’t mean to scare him and started to smile.
She was ready to physically tackle him as she shouted at her son. “Go to your room… now!”
“But Mom…” The boy looked between the stranger and his mother.
“And close your door!” She put herself between the stranger and her child. The door to the hallway swung wide open.
“Mommmm…” He did his best to hide his trembling lower lip.
“Now!” Layne stared at him until he obeyed. She stood with her hands against Justin’s firm chest to block his advance. She swung her gaze back to Justin, he could have sworn her eyes glowed with rage. “Did Charlie send you?”
He was puzzled by her strange behavior. She seemed overly melodramatic. All he wanted to do was see the boy. “Who’s Charlie?” He was annoyed when he heard the click of the boy’s bedroom door.
“Just answer the damn question!” Layne had tried to mentally prepare herself for just this kind of confrontation for the last six years, but she never thought her anger or her fear would be so great.
“I don’t know… who the hell… Charlie is!” He forcefully brushed her hands off of him. “Look, I came to speak to you because…”
“If Charlie didn’t send you, who did?” She cut him off.
Justin tried to control his own frustration. He understood this woman’s need to protect the boy from someone she didn’t know, but he needed desperately to see the boy. He resented her refusal.
“No one sent me!” He made sure not to yell.
“Then why are you here?” She wouldn’t trust him.
“Because… we need to talk.” It was harder to say it than he realized.
Layne was prepared to defend her son with her life if she had to. “…about what?”
“You and I need to talk. I’d really like to do this calmly.” Justin knew she wasn’t going to react very well. She was being too overprotective without knowing the reason for his visit. Once she found out…
“What do you and I have to talk about? There’s nothing for us to talk about.” She wasn’t letting her guard down for anything. And if he thought he could just come in here and shove her around, he’d soon learn differently.
“Layne…” He tried to reach out for her, she sidestepped him. “We need to talk about… our son.” He saw her look of shock. “We need to talk about Dennis.”
She slowly turned her head to look at a photograph of Dennis that was sitting on the top of her television set and made the comparison to the man standing in front of her.
Suddenly she screamed at him and began to beat at his chest with her clenched fists. “Get out! Get out of here! Get the hell out of my home!”
“Layne, calm down.” Justin tried to defend himself from her blows. He grabbed at her hands and tried to hold the struggling woman away from him. “Stop struggling. Just calm down!” That’s when he heard a door open.
“Should I call the police, Layne?” Mrs. Addamson called across the hallway from the protection of her own doorway.
Justin wanted to see the boy again. He wanted this beautiful lunatic to stop attacking him. He didn’t want to have to call his lawyer to get him out of jail. “I’ll be back.” Justin turned on his heel and left. Mrs. Addamson slammed her door as he entered the hallway.
Layne pushed the door closed behind him and locked it. Then she sunk down to the floor and held herself to keep from trembling.
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Prologue
He put his hand on the bartender’s wrist as she moved the open bottle towards his glass to refill.
“That’s going to be it for me, I’ve got an early morning.” He removed his hand from her wrist and watched as she pulled her slender hand away, noting the bright red of her nails. He remembered seeing red nails like that before. It was the same red as the cherry that topped the ice cream sundae you took your girl out for on a hot summer night. It was the same red as the Ruby stone that sat in a high school ring.
It had been more than eight years since he had seen that high school ring. She had been wearing it on a gold chain around her neck as she kissed him and told him she’d see him later. He waved as she got into the car with her friends and they drove off. Even though it had been a girls’ outing, he was supposed to drive them that day. One of her friends was planning to move into the dorm at the university in Syracuse later that summer and they all had wanted to help her make purchases for her room. But the restaurant manager had a last minute opening and he was grabbing all the work he could. So he stayed behind. He stayed behind and worked so they would be a little bit closer to being able to afford getting married.
His high school ring was never supposed to replace her engagement ring. He had been planning on buying one. But they wanted to move the wedding date up. They needed the money so buying the diamond was put on hold. Tom was still working the busboy job that had carried him through his senior year of high school. He had applications in at lots of other places for full time jobs, but the summer wasn’t the best time to get hired. His dad had wanted him to go on to college, but college wasn’t in his plans. Not anymore. He proposed to Joyce on their high school graduation day.
Joyce’s parents tried to convince them each to go to the local community college. They kept telling them that a two year engagement wasn’t all that long after all. Tom and Joyce knew they couldn’t wait the two years. So he worked as many hours as he could as a busboy. He managed to pick up a few extra hours pumping gas at the local station also. Joyce babysat and she was going to start selling plastic kitchen containers to all the area housewives. She wasn’t planning to buy anything that day. She was just going along for the ride. She was just going to enjoy the day with her girlfriends. He wanted her to have fun.
He was dead on his feet after the shift at the restaurant and he just wanted to go home and watch TV. His mom called him before he left work. His fifteen-year old cousin had run away again, something she did an average of twice a week since coming to live with them when she was twelve. Tom always knew where to find her and he picked her up on his way home that night. They were sitting in his car while he once again lectured her about her behavior when the police car pulled up. Tom knew that his world was about to end when he saw Joyce’s father get out of the back seat.

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Prologue
He felt his muscles clench as he stared into the woman’s face that lay beneath him. If he hadn’t already felt her trembling, he would have known she reached her own climax just by the expression of her face. With one more powerful thrust he felt everything he had spilling into her, he felt a completeness he would have never thought possible. Everything stopped and then he swore he felt their hearts start beating again as one. Pausing a moment to look into her eyes, and they were beautiful eyes he thought, he brushed a long strand of chestnut hair away from her face and kissed her. Then he rolled off of her.
“I love you.” Her voice was soft, like the touch of her lips. He couldn’t believe the tingling he felt in his loins at hearing her words.
“You’re not even human…”
“What?” She almost laughed at his choice of words.
He hadn’t even meant to say that thought out loud. “I mean… I just never felt so… consumed before. I feel like I am under some kind of spell.” As he sat up to face her, he was surprised by the life he felt in his groin. Feeling a touch embarrassed, which was a new feeling for him, he admitted, “I almost feel like I can go another round, and considering how powerful that was…”
She faced him and gave him a sultry smile; her bare breasts were firm and small. But not too small, he thought, just enough to fill his hands. He felt his groin tighten again and just stared.
“Hey, are you okay?” She suddenly sounded self-conscious.
“Uh, yeah.” He forced himself to look at her face.
She touched his arm, her fingers felt light like feathers. “Can I do anything for you?”
“Yes.” He glanced at her breasts again and then back at her face. “Tell me… who are you?”
She laughed, it was a full-bodied sound. “Just one day married and…” She saw the surprise in his eyes as he looked at his left hand and saw the ring. Pulling the bed sheet up to cover her nakedness, she looked at him puzzled. “You’re serious?”
He frowned. “‘Fraid so.”
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He entered the autopsy suite passing the heavy wooden sign next to the door. It said, “Hic locus est ubi mors gaudet succurrere vitae”. Once before when Jake had been here, he had asked for a translation of the Latin words and was told, “This is the place where death rejoices to teach those who live.” He was anxious to learn and he hoped Holly would be anxious to teach. He had high hopes that they could learn something, anything that would lead them to the murderer. Two men were waiting for him as he donned a surgical gown and protective eyewear.
Holly’s body was already lying on the shiny, aluminum dissection table. The table, a little more than waist high, was edged with an aluminum channel to allow blood and fluids to drain away from the body. The room was uncluttered and glaringly bright. It was a stark reminder of the lifelessness of the cadavers stored in the drawers along the wall. Soft music played from a radio on the counter in contrast to the harsh reality of the body lying motionless on the sterile looking table. Jake was always impressed with the clean up after an autopsy, the table always looked totally fresh and unused in time for the next patient. And there was always a next patient to fill the spot. That supply never seemed to end.
Dr. Ramos, the pathologist in charge of the lab, explained that one of his residents had already taken care of Beth, the charred corpse, early in the morning. He would complete his report and get it to Jake as promptly as possible. The first-year-resident assigned to assist Ramos with this autopsy was looking ever so proper in his starched white lab coat and was nervously readying a number of quart-sized jars for organ tissue samples to be sent to the lab for toxicology tests.
The doctor donned clean gloves before adjusting his goggles. “Pretty messy scene last night, huh?” Ramos spoke with ease, almost as if he was chatting with a familiar friend over a card game. Well into his sixties, the study of body parts and what they could tell you about how a person lived and died had always fascinated the doctor. He was well accomplished in his field and his word was highly respected in all the circles of investigation and trial. The doctor lived by the words on the door and truly believed that the dead rejoiced in communicating with him.
Although it was Ramos’ responsibility as Medical Examiner to pen all final autopsy reports, in recent years he had often allowed younger pathologists and first and second year residents to perform the more mundane procedures. He was personally overseeing this autopsy on Holly as a favor to Jake and to help speed along the findings and bring closure to his investigation. Dr. Ramos had the utmost respect for Jake Carlson, he had always been a man of his word who always sought the truth and justice for the victims. Ramos also got a special kick out of Jake’s interest in the autopsies and his own regard for listening to what the dead had to say.
It was a shame, mused Ramos that Jake hadn’t chosen medicine as his career, but then again, he was very good at what he did. If he weren’t so good, he never would have made it to the rank of Commander, especially as early as he did. Carson had certainly been a few years younger than his two most recent predecessors had been when they earned their titles. In the good doctor’s opinion, if that old goat sitting in the Chief’s chair ever decided to retire, Jacob Carson would probably find himself heading up his department.
Jake sighed. “Yeah. Unfortunately, with all the people who responded, all the trampling through the place, I can’t shake the gut feeling that we missed something.”
A crime scene should remain undisturbed, victim’s bodies should remain where they’re found, there shouldn’t be any bloody footprints belonging to rescuers. While so many of the EMS and fire personnel were careful not to disturb any more of the scene than they needed to, it had been impossible to maintain the complete integrity of the scene. Too many shoeprints to get anything clean, too many clothing fibers left by responding police and rescue workers, and the fire department destroyed evidence as it put out the fire.
It made Jake feel more than a little guilty and certainly sinister that he would have preferred no survivors that had to be removed from the cabin. Of course he wanted survivors, he corrected his thoughts silently, he just wished they had all been outside of the cabin when they were found. “Now we’ll have to waste time getting shoeprints and all from everyone who was there.”
“I’ve already begun my external examination. We’ve recorded the height and weight, her clothing and the general appearance.” The girl had been dressed in a torn, gauzy white shroud similar in shape to a judge’s robe, or graduation gown, and it had emphasized her youth.
The gray-haired doctor motioned that he was once again turning on the tape recorder to dictate his findings. “We have multiple lacerations and avulsions of both breasts, while there was profuse bleeding, no arteries or veins were compromised. This appears to be a non-fatal injury. There are also severe contusions and rope burns circling both wrists and ankles, these appear to be consistent with a struggle. There was no evidence of tissue samples under the victim’s nails. Some light bruising around the mouth and laterally on both cheeks are in conformity with the type of gag the police report described.”
“The pattern of the lacerations and the tearing of the breasts seem to have been done with a common variety garden tool. We are comparing the markings to some of the hand tools found at the scene.” The abandoned tool shed was located at the perimeter of an old farm that had been sold to a developer for new housing. Like most of the suburbs, active farms and open land was giving way to an increased population.
Dr. Ramos removed the thin white sheet that had covered the young girl’s body. “I noted the absence of any body hair on the trunk, including the pubic area. She seems to have been freshly shaved. There also appears to have been vaginal bleeding.” He gently inserted a speculum into the cadaver’s vagina and adjusted the light behind him. Jake was impressed with the respect Dr. Ramos showed in his handling of the young victim’s remains.
“There appears to be several lacerations and contusions along the inner membranes. My impression is that a hard object penetrated the victim, possibly something jagged. I am going to swab the vaginal canal for any evidence of fluids.” If any semen was present, then the DNA would be run through the computers.
Remembering that Julie had told him about Andrew Larkin telling her he had sex with Holly, Jake made a mental note to have Larkin called in for a DNA sample for comparison. He watched as several swabs were bagged and labeled for the lab. He spotted a small amount of a white chalky substance on the side of Holly’s knee. “Doc, what’s this?” Jake pointed making sure not to touch and contaminate the body.
“I don’t know.” Ramos walked around the table to Jake’s side. “Only one way to find out.” The doctor scraped the white substance with a cotton swab and dropped it into another plastic specimen bag to send to the lab.
Dr. Ramos finished his examination of the outer body. Then he picked up a shiny knife and cut a large Y-shaped incision into the girl’s chest with a sharp, long blade and separated the fractured ribs that were not uncommon after CPR compressions. Since dead people didn’t bleed, there was only minimal oozing along the incision.
After cutting the cartilage that held the remaining ribs to the sternum, Ramos folded back the skin to expose Holly’s heart and lungs. “This girl was a heavy smoker.” He directed Jake’s attention to the less than pink lung tissue he had just sliced into. “Her heart is somewhat enlarged and shows some signs of cardiomyopathy,” he looked up at Jake to explain, “that’s a muscle weakness.”
“After the heart is weighed, I’m going to have some tissue samples sent to histology. Since the police report indicated that there had been cocaine use reported, I’ll ask them to look for some amounts of Benzoylecgonine in her body.” Benzoylecgonine was a telltale and lasting ingredient found in cocaine, an element that sometimes could be found up to a few weeks after its use in a person’s bladder.
The examination continued with an ongoing litany for the tape recorder. Ramos indicated that, since the girl’s stomach was nearly empty, death had been several hours following her last meal, possibly a full day or more. The information bothered Jake, but he wasn’t sure how important it was or not. Larkin had indicated meeting the girls in a bar, Jake figured they’d have ingested at least drinks, pretzels or popcorn. If she had been a frequent cocaine user, that could explain why she hadn’t eaten recently.
“She appears to have a small needle puncture in her antecubital fossa,” the doctor pointed towards the crook of the girl’s right elbow. “But there are no track marks or other visible punctures to suggest any illicit needle drug use.”
A little bit more than two hours after Jake had entered the room Dr. Ramos and the resident had returned the bulk of the organs to Holly’s body cavity and the resident was busy sewing up the Y-incision. Various samples of tissue were packaged and on their way to the lab for study. “Based on my initial examination, the apparent cause of death was cardiac arrest. Contributing factors would include an enlarged and weakened heart and severe blood loss.”
Dr. Ramos let the resident finish sewing the cadaver closed and preparing the body for release while he went to wash up. “So Jake, are you up joining me for lunch?
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He bent over her and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Adam tried to memorize every feeling, the scent from her hair, her weight in his arms, and the way she opened her eyes and smiled just before she wound her arms around his neck.
“Hmmm… what time is it?” Her voice was sleepy.
“After three.”
“How are you ever going to get up in the morning?”
He was amused by the way her words slurred. “I’ll go in late.” He walked into their bedroom and placed her gently on the bed.
Adam helped her while she fumbled into a night shirt and crawled under the blankets. Then he went to his side of the bed and stripped, leaving his clothing on the floor. He got under the covers and pulled her body up against his, he kissed her on the top of her head and whispered “G’night.” Before he reached to turn out his night table lamp, he stopped to watch her sleeping in their bed… another memory for him to store.
Surprisingly Adam had woken early after all. He quietly got out of bed without disturbing her, took the folded paper from his pocket and took a pair of pants with him to put on after he left the room. In the kitchen he plugged in the pot of coffee that Davie had left prepared and leaned against the counter to read the report. In all test groups, ‘589APPLE’ had significantly improved the healthy development of the fetus in-utero by directing nutrients and necessary vitamins to the growing embryo. Various laboratory animals were used throughout the stages. Thanks to the administration of ‘589APPLE’ hundreds of healthy baby rats were born during this testing period with an improvement of nearly seventy-five-percent in overall development, survival and general health over the control group which did not receive ‘589APPLE’. Many more test groups were used in the studies, most of them showed extremely high neo-natal success rates.
However, Adam noted, the more complex the animal in the test group, another statistic registered. By the time pregnant laboratory monkeys were given the drug, while most of the babies were born healthy, the maternal health began to suffer with one fatality attributed to malnutrition. The human test group consisted of twenty-five pregnant females who were given the drug; four mothers died within twenty-four hours of birth, two died prior to birth and their healthy babies were delivered by Cesarean section, seven more were hospitalized suffering the effects of starvation and one more died within six months after. The summary at the bottom of the report cited the fifty-percent of human mothers who suffered illness or fatality after taking ‘589APPLE’ during at least five months of the gestation period.
Autopsy results of the fatalities showed that not only did the drug direct more of the ingested nutrients to the fetus, but it also ‘attached’ itself to the digestive track and prohibited any significant nourishment from being absorbed into the mother’s body. A recommendation was made to Dr. Bryan Chapman, the Vice President of Regularity Affairs of the pharmaceutical company, that the formulation of the drug be examined and altered to reduce this risk to the mothers. The author of the summary, who signed only his initials, proposed that production of ‘589APPLE’ be postponed indefinitely.
Adam was dismayed that this supposedly beneficent drug could have such devastating effects. He also was aware that he had made it possible for this drug, with its current potentially lethal formulation, to be manufactured and distributed in third-world countries and on the black market everywhere. This drug had the potential to turn a growing baby into an insidious parasite that could kill its mother. There was no choice left, he had to stop it.
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KARMA VISITED by Chelle Cordero

(from pg 13, Smashwords online edition)
“In this business I need to be married and this community frowns on divorce. So I’m stuck.”
“Please tell me you don’t love her.”
“Don’t worry Mother, I never did. So long as she keeps up appearances though, I’ll keep her around.”
Annie could never forget the sickening feeling she had hearing him say that he didn’t love her, that he never loved her. With the losses she suffered at such an early age, and moving away from the only family she did know, thinking she was loved by Scott meant everything to her. Losing that feeling of security was almost more than she could bear. Annie felt alone again. She continued eavesdropping even though she knew it would only bring her more pain.
“And what happens if little miss psycho gets out of line?”
“Then I have her committed and snatch up the sympathy vote.” He laughed as he spoke.
“You could always do that anyway.”
“Hmm,’ he thought about it. “You’re right. It definitely could give me a boost. Besides, family values, I can be a devoted husband standing by his sick wife. Yeah, it could work. And it would actually leave me free to have a real life without making any commitments.”
Annie knew then what she had to do. She had to save enough money to be able to afford to leave. Scott told her he would never let her go, at least not until he was ready to get rid of her There was no one in town who would help her and no where she could go, he had already convinced several of the folks in town that she was suffering from mental illness. Ironically these were the same people Annie might have tried to go to for help in escaping his stranglehold. He elicited their cooperation in keeping an eye on her for him, for her own safety of course. Even the local minister called Scott the day she went to the church looking for help. She needed money to get away and a plan that would work quickly and quietly, and she had to do it by and for herself.

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Rencontre avec son Karma
Chelle Cordero
Ma vie a changé après ma mort.
Ce n’est pas comme si j’avais des pouvoirs particuliers.
Simplement, ils ne me comprenaient pas.
Ils me sous-estimaient.
J’avais un don.
“Un trio d’agresseurs masqués s’était introduit dans trois maisons de la région. Jusqu’à maintenant, personne n’avait été tué, mais le propriétaire de la dernière maison s’était défendu. En retour, il avait été frappé assez gravement à coup de crosse. Normalement, Catawai était une petite ville tranquille, une ville-dortoir.”
Dave enquête sur ces cambriolages jusqu’à ce qu’il fasse une rencontre inattendue…
Karma Visited Video Sneak Peek (English)

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Chelle Cordero
Chelle Cordero écrit des histoires de passion et de suspens. Vanilla Heart Publishing a publié neuf de ses romans : Barlett’s Rule ; His Lucky Charm ; Within the Law ; Courage of the Heart ; Final Sin ; Hostage Heart ; A chaunce of Riches ; Common Bond ; Tangled Hearts et Hyphema. Chelle travaille actuellement sur son dixième roman et nous promet déjà une aventure riche en actions et en histoires d’amour émouvantes. Depuis l’âge adulte, elle a écrit à la fois des livres de fictions et de littérature non romanesque. Vanilla Heart Publishing publie ses livres depuis début 2008.
Ses livres lui ont valu plusieurs éloges dont : Barlett’s Rule, qui a fait partie du Top Dix des lectures de Carolyn Howard-Johnson en 2009 ; Final Sin a eu le titre de « Honorable Mention » dans la catégorie Fiction du NY Book Festival en 2010 et a été nominé en 2009 pour le Prix Pushcart ; Hyphema a gagné le Friday Book Cover Vote sur le site Shades of Love, le 9 décembre 2011 ; A Chaunce of Riches a été élu Meilleur Premier Chapitre par les lecteurs de D. Renee Bagby, en avril 2010 ; Hostage Heart, Final Sin et A Chaunce of Riches ont fini dans les dix premiers selon les sondages des éditeurs et lecteurs, en 2009. Chelle a été sélectionnée parmi les « 50 Great Withers You Should Be Reading » publié par The Author’s Show en 2010.
Vous pouvez retrouver Chelle Cordero sur son blog : http://chellecordero.blogspot.com/, ou sur le blog promotionnel : http://ccepotourri.wordpress.com/. Elle offre un atelier d’écriture hebdomadaire aux inscrits du Blog Kinsley sur : http://bit.ly/pILcG. Sur son site internet http://ChelleCordero.com, vous trouverez des informations sur tous ses livres et toutes ses représentations. Les bloggeurs et la presse sont invités à visiter l’espace presse de Chelle sur https://chellecordero.com/media/, où ils trouveront des photos téléchargeables et d’autres informations.
N’hésitez pas à cliquer sur LIKE sur la page FaceBook de Chelle : https://www.facebook.com/AuthorChelleCordero et à la suivre sur Twitter : https://twitter.com/ChelleCordero. Vous pouvez aussi lui envoyer un mail à l’adresse : ChelleCordero@gmail.com
Chelle habite dans le nord-est des États-Unis avec son mari, Mark et sa famille. Ils ont deux enfants, déjà adultes, Jenni et Marc (&Trish) ; ils vivent aussi avec trois chats coquins et gâtés dont l’un d’eux a élu domicile sur le bureau de Chelle. Chelle est journaliste indépendante à plein temps pour plusieurs magazines ; ses articles paraissent régulièrement dans le nord de l’Amérique. Elle écrit une rubrique mensuelle sur les problèmes des NYS Emergency Medical Services (services d’urgence), en tant que NYS Emergency Medical Technician (First Responder News).
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Audrey Vennin
Audrey est née à Arras dans le nord de la France. Elle est traductrice indépendante de l’anglais et de l’italien au français. Après une expérience en tant que pilote de chasse dans l’Armée de l’Air française, elle a étudié la littérature anglaise et italienne à l’université de Lille 3. Elle habite en Europe avec sa famille et voyage beaucoup. Toujours curieuse de découvrir de nouveaux livres, elle aime aussi écrire.
Audrey is born in Arras in the north of France. She is a freelance translator from English and Italian into French. After an experience as a fighter pilot in the French Air Force, she has studied English and Italian literature at Lille 3 university. She lives with her family in Europe and travels a lot. Always interested in discovering new books, she also likes writing.
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