One of the problems with writing blind is often what I think is on the blog and what I actually post are at times very different. When I originally posted this piece about Eliza Daily it had parts of her e-mail stuck in. I apologize to her and to all of you for all the extra's. This is a great romance, a fun read and worth checking out. Don't let my "blind" ignorance of computers stop you. come meet Eliza.Identity Crisis by Eliza Daly
To celebrate the March 4
release of Identity Crisis, Eliza
will be awarding one $20 gift certificate, and two $10 gift certificates, for
either Amazon or Barnes & Noble to three randomly drawn commenters during
her excerpt reveal tour March 4. Please include your e-mail address with your
comment. Winners will be contacted on March 8. Good luck everyone!
When Olivia Doyle’s father
dies under suspicious circumstances, rather than inheriting a family fortune,
she inherits a new identity. She learns they were placed in the Federal Witness
Protection Program when she was five years old. Her father was involved in an
art forgery ring and testified against the mob. Brought up not to trust anyone,
Olivia has a difficult time relying on U.S. Marshal Ethan Ryder to protect her,
and to keep her secret. She fears her father may have continued his life of
crime through her art gallery. She has little choice but to depend on Ethan
when she realizes someone is now after her. Olivia’s search for the truth leads
her and Ethan across country to a family and past she doesn’t remember.
At the age of ten, Ethan
witnessed a brutal murder. He vowed when he grew up, he’d protect people in
danger. Protecting Olivia is difficult when she won’t trust him. He soon
realizes his desire to protect her goes beyond doing his job, but if his
judgment becomes clouded by emotions, her safety could be jeopardized.
Can Ethan and Olivia learn
to trust each other when they uncover secrets that will change their lives
forever?
Excerpt
Father Clifford slipped a
yellowed envelope from the side pocket of his vestment. “Your father gave this
to me many years ago. Asked that I give it to you upon his death.”
She took the envelope from
his hand. The organ music faded and a desolate, eerie stillness fell over the
church, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She tightened the shawl
around her shoulders. She opened the envelope to find a letter and a newspaper
clipping. She started with the letter.
Dear Livvy,
First, know that
I loved you more than anything in this world. That’s why I hope someday you’ll
forgive me for what I’ve done. Telling you the truth while I was alive could
have put your life in danger. Now that I’m gone, I no longer fear for your
safety. They would only have hurt you to get to me.
The only way to
keep us safe was to enter the Witness Protection Program when you were five.
Leaving our friends and family was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I
can’t stand the thought of you now being alone. I hope you’ll go back to our
family, in the town where I grew up, Five Lakes, Wisconsin. I’d like to be laid
to rest there, next to your mother. Please forgive me enough to grant me this
one last wish. If you should ever encounter any problems, contact Roy Howard,
the U.S. Marshal who relocated us, at 415-334-9076. I’m so sorry. Please
believe you were the most important thing to me. You were my life. My Livvy.
Love, Dad
Olivia stood paralyzed, her
mind racing, trying to comprehend the letter. Was this some kind of sick joke?
For the past twenty-four years her dad had lived in fear that somebody would
hurt them? What had forced him to leave behind everyone he’d loved? Everyone she’d probably loved, but obviously couldn’t
remember. And if her mom wasn’t buried in San Francisco, whose grave had Olivia
been visiting here all these years? She tried to hold the letter steady in her
trembling hands. Of course it was vague. Her dad had been a man of few words.
However, these few words expressed a lot of emotion, something he’d never been
good at doing.
“Is everything all right?”
Father Clifford’s voice penetrated her thoughts.
Concern creased the older
man’s brow and from the curiosity filling his gray eyes, he had no clue what the
envelope contained. Her dad hadn’t even trusted a priest with his secret. Her
dad had been the only person she’d ever really trusted, and it turned out she
hadn’t truly known him.
She merely nodded, unable to
find her voice. She inhaled a deep breath. The scent of beeswax candles and
incense did little to calm the panic racing through her veins. She unfolded a
clipping from a Chicago newspaper, dated twenty-four years ago. The headline
read Art Dealer in Bed with Mob Blows Whistle on
Forgery Ring and Vinnie Carlucci. The article included a photo of
police officers escorting her dad. She started reading the article.Prominent Chicago art
dealer Andrew Donovan confesses to having sold more than a hundred forgeries …
Her stomach dropped. She
slapped a hand over her mouth, certain she was about to vomit right there on
the pew.
Her dad had been a criminal.
The nature of his crime made
it all the more surreal.
She stared in disbelief at
the papers in her hand. His name had been Andrew Donovan, not Alex Doyle. Her last
name was Donovan. Was
her first name actually Olivia? Instead of inheriting a family fortune, she’d
inherited a new identity.
Or rather, an old one.
Eliza Daly’s
first attempt at creative writing was in fourth grade. She and her friends were
huge Charlie’s Angels fans and she would sit in her bedroom at
night writing scripts for them to act out at recess the following day. She was
Kelly Garrett. Fast forward to the present, she’s still writing stories about
beautiful women who always get their men. The journey from fourth grade script
writer to published author wasn’t an easy one, but it was always an adventure
and the final destination was well worth it.
When Eliza
isn’t traveling for her job as an event planner, or tracing her ancestry roots
through Ireland, she’s at home in Milwaukee working on her next novel, bouncing
ideas off her husband Mark, and her cats Quigley, Frankie, and Sammy.