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Meg Adams left the meeting with a profound sense of depression. She hadn’t spent much time with Dr. Sutton, Amanda, as things got busier and none with her partner, David Morrow, but to know they had really left, escaped, along with Joe Dula who had worked here long before her, made all of the hardships more real. She straightened her shoulders and took a steadying breath.

She would handle this too, she had no choice, but she would miss Amanda’s friendship and support. She’d been glad to be here at the CDC when the pandemic broke out. She’d accepted the safety of the place, the security of the vaccine. Amanda had been the only doctor to really talk to her and the staff, explaining things to them as if they too were important to the project.


Meg had listened to Amanda in several meetings, her passionate attempts to get some relief for Meg’s group falling short. Would anyone speak up for them now? Would they listen to her?

It was almost funny, she had been the office manager, not head of facilities, and she knew nothing about plumbing except to stop her toilet from running at what used to be her apartment. Now she supervised such a variety of skills it was a joke. Goodness knew she understood responsibility. She’d had to take charge for as long as she could remember, but this . . . Fortunately her group didn’t need a lot of hands on from her. They understood what was really happening and kept at it.

The powerful men that had come down from DC were taking over. She supposed that was what they did best, but they would have been more help outside of meetings. Connor Nash, from South Carolina was troubling, though she couldn’t put her finger on why exactly. She knew nothing about his background or politics but something about him scared her. Looking into his eyes had been like looking into the eyes of the shark at the aquarium, empty, and somehow malevolent. He had his little entourage of fellow congressmen, Leonard Burton and Elsworth Keithley and their aides. They were about the same age and thought alike. There was trouble coming and Meg couldn’t see a way to stop it, because she couldn’t see what it would be.

A movement caused her to look down the hall. She brushed her curly dark hair out of her face to get a better look. A man in military fatigues observed her. He had the short military cut to his dark hair but at this distance she could make out few details. He did look muscular, strong. Meg’s lungs refused to function for an instant. There was no one else around. She was vulnerable. Had she seen him before? As her breath returned she felt herself calm, his stance wasn’t menacing as much as protective. Or was she naive? Who was he?

Donna Steele was with me last July when I decided to pitch a story to an editor from Soul Mate Publishing. Donna and I drove from North Carolina to Orlando, Florida to attend the Romance Writers of America annual conference. I brought with me a story I had written many years before. I never published it because it differed from my other published novels. I am known for Scottish characters or shape-shifting Scottish dragons.

However, this character screamed to be brought to life, and a French hero waking up inside a French sculptor’s statue made sense. I reworked my heroine. She is American, and of Scottish descent and is actually half Fae. Heaven-sent Warrior, is a full-length paranormal romance set in present-day North Carolina. I am working on the second book in my Warriors in Bronze series for Soul Mate Publishing. Heaven-sent Highlanderwill also be released later this year.

Henrí Chevalier’s last memory, before stumbling naked into a museum’s moonlit garden, was Auguste Rodin and his dusty Paris studio in 1886. To escape his broken heart, Henrí volunteered to sleep inside a statue until needed. Expecting to die, he discovers he must learn to use the unexpected powers Heaven has given him. Without them he will fail his mission against otherworldly creatures, such as demons and faeries.

Kenzie Mackintosh, a dedicated art museum’s curator, spies a naked man hiding among bronze statues. A quick glance ignites desire within her, but she is too tied-up in work to act on it. Unaware of her fae heritage, their relationship heats up as he disrupts her job. While Henrí tries to process modern buildings, cars, and a broken elevator, a demon attacks and forces Henrí and Kenzie to enlist the aid of her powerful fae relatives. When the demon possesses the body of her ex-lover and threatens to kill him, then use her to take over the world, Henrí and Kenzie must learn to trust each other, even if Kenzie’s death might be the only answer to the world’s salvation.

Unwilling to see what lay at the bottom of the stairs, in case it was Warren, Kenzie cleaned off their plates and set them in the sink. She started to finish the last of her milk, but emptied it and Henrí’s glass down the drain, glad she’d had no wine to share. They would both need their wits tonight. Henrí’s voice, chanting something in French, wafted up the stairs.

Nancy Lee Badgergrew up in Huntington on New York’s Long Island. After attending Plymouth State, in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, she earned a Bachelor of Science degree in Art Education and met and married her college sweetheart. They raised two handsome sons in New Hampshire, where Nancy scoured the countryside for rusty old milk cans. She cleaned them and painted them as beautiful porch or living room decorations. She also created lap quilts to keep her family and friends warm during bitter cold winters. When the children had left the nest, and shoveling show became a chore, she retired from her satisfying job as a 9-1-1 Emergency Medical Dispatcher and moved with her husband to North Carolina, where she writes full-time

Nancy is a member of Romance Writers of America, Heart of Carolina Romance Writers, Fantasy-Futuristic & Paranormal Romance Writers, and the Triangle Association of Freelancers. She loves to travel and attend Scottish Highland Games and is never far from her laptop. She finds story ideas in the most unusual places. Connect with Nancy here:

Received word yesterday that my uncle, someone so alive and still busy, died while snorkeling during a Disney cruise. He was 83 and obviously not finished. No word on arrangements because of the autopsy, so his body is still out of the country. Disney made arrangements for my aunt to come home. We’re a close family and all are shaken. Have talked and emailed cousins all over the country.

I’m also in charge of programming for my local RWA chapter. That already takes me outside of my comfort zone – remember, writer, introvert. We’re working on our all day conference in October and finally found a venue (who knew so many people got married in October!) and have the speakers-incredible ones that I love-but working with budgets and logistics are not my thing.

Also, sadly Rebel Ink Press is closing its doors the end of June, so all of my titles are reverting to me. That means I have to re-edit them and in some cases get new covers, etc. to get them back on-line and available. They were so classy about the closing, notifying us six months in advance, but that time has flown. They were the ones who took a chance on a new author and got me going in this strange new career. I’ll miss them.