Flash Point (High Sierras 1)
Reviewed by Jacqui
Once again Diane Benefiel has written a story that captured me from page 1. Her ability to tell a story that makes you want to keep reading is incredible. This time her story focuses on Emmaline Kincaid or Emma. She has just inherited her grandfather’s fishing resort. She has no idea what to do but vows to make it work. With a little elbow grease and the help of new friends, she starts rebuilding what her grandfather started and a place she has fond memories of. Unfortunately, someone in the small town of Hangman’s Loss has other ideas and is desperate to run her out of town.
But as every great story it needs a hot sheriff who can help keep her safe, and maybe fall in love with her. Everyone knows Chief Bradley Gallagher in Hangman’s Loss. He is a standup guy who will do just about anything for you. But when he meets Emma, his focus turns to one thing, keeping her safe and finding out who is trying to destroy her. Up for the challenge Chief Gallagher sticks close to Emma and will protect her at any cost. What he didn’t expect was to find the one person that completes him and makes solving this case even more important.
Diane Benefiel you blow me away every time I read one of your books. I can’t wait to see what happens next in Hangman’s Loss. Thank you for bringing us Emma and Brad’s story.
Reconsidering Her Options
Stalwart, honest, a stand-up guy – high praise, right? Wears his jeans just right, single, a catch – pretty much everyone in Hangman’s Loss, a quirky little town in the Eastern Sierras, adores the hell out of Police Chief Bradley Gallagher. Yet, new resident Emma Kincaid is determined to keep him at arm’s length, and with good reason. But vandalism, arson, and a violent attack have her rethinking her stance. Has someone from her past caught up with her, or is the escalating threat coming from within her newfound community? Sparks fly as Brad races against time to keep her safe, and passions combust when they join forces to combat the danger.
Okay, there was a cop out there and not all cops were bad.
That was rational. She wasn’t a kid again, in a patrol car paralyzed by terror.
Dread gripped her at the realization that, as much as she hated the idea, she
would have to trust this cop.
“I repeat, this is the police. Come out with your hands up.”
Bracing herself, she tried to speak but a dry throat made her voice inaudible.
A convulsive swallow, and she tried again. “I’m coming out.”
Cautious, she eased into the doorway. She pushed open the screen, grip tight on
the heavy flashlight, then hesitated, blinded by the powerful beam of his
He stood in front of the porch, a shadow darker than the rest. “Stop. Lower
your flashlight to the floor.”
Emma ordered herself not to freak out. Crouching, she reluctantly set down her
only possible weapon. “This is my place. I can be here.” Even to her own ears,
her voice sounded tight with dread.
“We’ll figure that out.” When she’d risen again, he continued, “Put your hands
behind your head and come down the steps.”
Emma raised her arms, linking her fingers behind her head. Slowly she moved
forward. That voice kept whispering in the back of her mind. He could be a
rogue cop. He could rape and kill her, bury her body out in the woods somewhere
and no one would even know she was gone. If he made one wrong move, she’d take
her chances and run. Poised for flight, she couldn’t keep a hard shiver from
wracking her body.
“What’s your name?”
His voice had a low timbre that was somehow calming. They probably taught the
technique in cop school. She tried to see beyond the blinding light but
couldn’t make out his features. “My name is Emma, and this is my property.” She
paused. “Can I put my hands down?”
She’d never felt more vulnerable in her life when the cop ignored her question
and moved behind her. She tensed as he gripped her wrists with one warm hand
and conducted a quick pat down with the other. “Is there anyone with you?”
Her heart beating so hard it was a wonder she didn’t pass out. Emma conducted a
fast internal debate on whether to admit there was no one else, but realized
she had no choice. She was alone. “It’s just me.”
The unyielding presence behind her made her hyperaware. The creak of the
leather cop belt, the hiss of his radio, even the scuff of his boots on gravel
brought back frightening flashes of memory that served to reinforce that she
was at his mercy. And that this could go very, very badly for her. To the
depths of her soul, Emma hated feeling so vulnerable.
He released her clasped hands and moved to stand in front of her. Angling the
flashlight so it wasn’t shining directly in her face, he stood back, watchful.
A stillness settled over him. He stared at her, making her aware of the pull of
his gaze. After a long, arrested moment he appeared to gather himself.
“You can lower your hands now. Sit down on the steps.” He pulled the radio off
his belt, low voice reporting his location and situation, then strode back to
his vehicle to open the rear door.
Sinking onto the porch steps, Emma watched as he leaned inside to retrieve
something, then moved to the driver’s door to reach in and flip off the
headlights. His radio buzzed and he paused to respond. He had the sure,
economical movements of a supremely self-confident man.
The dome light of the SUV lit him from the side, showing a strong profile. His
eyes were on her but he was a good thirty feet away. He responded to the radio
and took his gaze off her to lean farther into the vehicle.
Watching him warily, Emma thought briefly, insanely, of running. She could do
it. Just slip into the darkness and find safety in the trees. But that would be
madness. So far he’d done nothing threatening, other than being a cop, and,
more importantly, she hadn’t done anything wrong. But having the legal right to
be here sure didn’t make her feel any safer.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Emma startled, looking up to find him staring at her across the distance.
Great, the cop was a mind reader.
National Readers’ Choice Award winner for her novel, Solitary
Man, Diane Benefiel has been an avid reader all her life. She
enjoys a wide range of genres, from westerns to fantasy to mysteries, but
romance has always been a favorite. She writes what she loves best to read
– emotional, heart-gripping romantic suspense novels. She likes writing
romantic suspense because she can put the hero and heroine in all sorts of
predicaments that they have to work together to overcome.
A native Southern Californian, Diane enjoys nothing better than summer.
For a high school history teacher, summer means a break from teenagers, and
summer allows her to spend her early mornings immersed in her current writing
project. With both kids living out of the house, in addition to writing, she
enjoys camping and gardening with her husband. Diane loves hearing from her