WANTED: Critique Partner for Kim

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I'm posting up a "wanted ad" today for a suspense writer (adult). If you write and/or read in a similar genre, please read her details and excerpt below and consider swapping some pages to see if you're compatible. In her own words, here's what Kim's looking for!

My name is Kim Cresswell and I'm looking for a critique partner.

I'm a full-time author (agented) of romantic suspense and paranormal suspense thrillers.

I am looking for an experienced partner to exchange a few pages with per week. I'm presently working on a four book paranormal series and would prefer a critique partner who writes in my genres or loves reading romantic suspense and/or paranormal suspense. :)

I've posted a short excerpt below and can be contacted at writer1(at)rogers.com

Sincerely,

Kim Cresswell

***

Excerpt from REFLECTION by Kim Cresswell
(Romantic Suspense)



In the donut shop, Andrew West sat on a hard stool at the end of a worn Formica counter and ordered another coffee, this one to go. Cinnamon and sugar icing collided with the sharp tang of bleach as the waitress wiped the counter beside him.

Outside, traffic built up. While a half-moon poked through the clouds, he eyed the woman heading into the store next door. Anticipation nipped his skin.

She’d be dead by sunset. Sweet retribution.

Thanks to Nathan’s unlimited resources, including the use of his helicopter, Andrew could keep a step ahead of the reporter. Of course, knowing where she’d be every minute came in handy. He couldn’t bring himself to say her name. Her name was like sour vomit on his tongue.

How could a jury have believed her lies? Her bullshit had helped put his father behind bars. Her lies had forced his father to kill himself.

She’d said his old man was a dirty cop, implicated him in the theft of million of dollars’ worth of cocaine from the Miami-Dade evidence-storage facility, and accused him of selling the drugs on the street.

His father had been set up. He wasn’t a thief or a drug dealer. He was hardworking man who’d dedicated his life to protect others.

Andrew heard she had gotten a friggin’ award.

Bitch.

And his father? A wooden box.

From the get-go, Andrew’s plan was simple. Take out everyone the woman cared about. Make her suffer. Experience loss like he had. Worked like a charm when he’d shot her ex-husband. Funny how things work out. The old guy, George had been a bonus, a two-for-one deal.

She was next.

His palms itched. He couldn’t wait.

The woman crossed the street, carrying two plastic shopping bags. Andrew shot to his feet. Once she was on the other side, he tossed two dollars on the counter, grabbed his coffee and left Donut Junkie with a smile on his face.

Tucked inside his rental car, he clutched the PDA Nathan had given him and turned on the device. It felt good to have such control. The Palm Pilot beeped. The small LCD screen burst to life. On a miniature green and blue street map, a red light blinked.

The bitch would be moving soon.

In the semi-darkness of the alley Andrew started the engine and waited.

***