Hi all! I'm heads down this month promoting my second audiobook and writing my sixth mystery, so for this week's blog, I decided to share an excerpt
from my upcoming Downward Dog Mystery. Pre-Meditated Murder releases
January 8, 2018. The excerpt has not gone through Midnight Ink's editing process yet, so
please forgive any errors.
I put Alice back into the carrier and followed Rene to the
sidewalk. I would have kept chiding her all the way to the car, but when we
were a few steps away from the street, Bella froze, halting my forward motion
and practically dislocating my shoulder. “Bella, knock it—” I stopped
mid-sentence.
Something was wrong.
Bella stared straight ahead, teeth exposed, ears pricked
forward. The guard hairs along her spine stood on end like the quills of an
angry porcupine. Low growls rumbled from deep in her chest.
“What is it, sweetie?” I kneeled next to her and followed
her gaze. It was locked on a man who was standing—or rather skulking—in a dark,
narrow alley across the street. He wore a camouflage baseball cap.
“It’s him,” I whispered.
Rene glanced left to right. “It’s who?”
The stranger looked up and we made eye contact. For the
first time, I got a good look at his face. Dark hair. Tan, weathered skin.
Light blue, almost icy, eyes. He turned and bolted down the alley.
As to what happened next, I can only plead temporary
insanity.
“Rene, stay here.” I ordered. I thrust Bella’s leash into
her hand and broke into a run, determined to catch the suspicious stranger.
“Where are you going?” Rene yelled to my back.
I ignored her and shoved past an elderly woman. “Excuse me.”
I dodged to the right and twirled past a young mother pushing a stroller.
“Sorry!” I leapt over a low bench and landed—hard—on the edge of my right foot.
Pain jolted from my ankle to my knee. I recovered my balance and kept running,
but the camo-capped man ran faster. He was getting away!
I didn’t think. More importantly, I didn’t look. I acted on
pure instinct. I darted off the curb and into the busy street. The driver of a
black pickup truck slammed on his brakes.
The next three seconds passed with petrifying clarity. The
horrified expression on the driver’s face; the ear-piercing screech of locked
tires against pavement; the chemical smell of burning rubber; the sour taste of
adrenaline. I gaped down at my knees, or more accurately at the truck’s bumper,
which had stopped an inch from my legs. The driver leaned out his window and
yelled, “Jesus, lady! Watch where you’re going!”
“My fault!” I yelled. I started running again.
Across the street, down the alley, and out to the sidewalk
on the other side. I skidded to a stop, lungs heaving, and whipped my head back
and forth.
The suspicious
stranger had vanished. 
Tracy Weber is a certified yoga teacher and the founder of Whole Life Yoga, an award-winning yoga studio in Seattle, where she currently lives with her husband, Marc, and precocious German shepherd puppy, Ana. She loves sharing her passion for yoga and animals in any form possible. When she’s not writing, she spends her time teaching yoga, trying to corral Ana Tasha, and sipping Blackthorn cider at her favorite ale house. Tracy loves connecting with fans. Find her on her author web page or on Facebook.
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