Belle Isle: a park in the heart of the city

PLEASE WELCOME LYNDI’S ADVENTUROUS FRIEND, CHRISTINA LYNN LAMBERT!!

I was born and raised in Virginia and currently live about two hours from the ocean and three hours from the mountains. During the winter, though, I’m not likely to leave my warm house unless it’s absolutely necessary. I’m not a big fan of winter so I am counting the days until the temperatures rise and the flowers and trees start to look alive again. One of my favorite local spots to go once the weathers begins to warm up is Belle Isle, in the heart of the city of Richmond.

The traffic and bright, hectic energy of the city surrounds the island but once I park my car and walk across the street, it’s like entering another world. A suspended foot bridge provides a path over the depths of the James River. At the end of the bridge, defunct train tracks and rusty transmission towers nearly obscure the mouth of the forest. A dirt trail leads hikers to the shore of the river. The huge, flat rocks rising up from the water create the perfect place to sit and read a book or have picnic.

Belle Isle has been occupied by many things over last few centuries including a fishery, a nail factory, a small town, and an iron works facility. The island was also a prison during the civil war. In 1973, Belle Isle became a park. Wildlife and nature thrived where destruction of the land and suffering had once occurred. From the flat rocks above the water, I can see the old Tredegar Ironworks, historic Hollywood Cemetery, kayakers working their way through the rapids, and in the distance, there is the city. On the island though, there is a pause, a temporary peace.

Belle Isle has been a source of inspiration for my writing over the years. Being outside helps me feel connected to the most essential things, the things that really matter. The island is nature rising once again, but nature didn’t obliterate all signs of the past. The island entwined itself into the old structures. A reminder. The view of the city remains just as the truth and the past remain. In the heart of Richmond City, the island is a place of hope and harmony.

Blurb:

Kylie was the victim of a brutal experiment that gave her telekinetic abilities. Coyote shifter Trevor doesn’t trust the psy but when his feelings for Kylie grow out of control, will he risk everything to be with her? When a deranged doctor has disturbing plans for shifters and psy, can Trevor and Kylie stop him, or will they be silenced forever?

Excerpt:

Who is she? Trevor tried not to stare at the woman sitting across from Shifters United President Matt Blackwell but damn, she was beautiful. Her long, black hair had a purple, glossy tint. Intricate tattoos wound around her arms and lower legs. He wanted to run his fingers along the ink lines of every single tattoo. Her skin looked so smooth and touchable. Bitable too. Nope. Not appropriate. Not at all. He forced his descending coyote fangs to recede.

Blackwell didn’t introduce Trevor to the mystery woman, though, and that sent his curiosity into caution mode. The purple-haired beauty gave him a wary look before glancing back down at the computer tablet in her hand. Right. Business. Trevor had obviously interrupted a meeting. He’d stopped by Matt Blackwell’s hotel room to drop off a folder full of intel and surveillance photos. He needed to find an excuse to stay and talk to the woman with lovely dark brown eyes.

“Thanks for taking care of the research,” Blackwell gave him a nod. “Set the info on my desk and I’ll take a look before the meeting tonight.”

Trevor walked past the mystery woman and set the folder full of information on the small desk beside the coffee table. He stole another, longer glance at the woman. Her nails were painted indigo blue. His favorite color. The tattoos winding around her arms seemed to be in motion, encircling her in their safety. Weird trick of the light. Had to be. He rubbed his eyes. Blinked. The tattoos went still. The woman smelled amazing, like wildflowers after the rain, but she didn’t smell like a shifter. Didn’t mean she wasn’t one.

Scent blockers made it easy for shifters to mask their unique scent, to a degree. The blockers also did a fairly good job at hiding other smells shifters could detect, like fear, desire, and rage. Even so, Trevor could almost always detect hints of the slightly rancid, faint garbage aroma of the blockers, no matter what brand or what home recipe a person used. Coyote shifters could pick up on smells most other shifters couldn’t.

What is the woman with the willowy tattoos? Was she a threat to Blackwell? Maybe a rabbit shifter? Rabbit shifters were the only animal shifters who carried no animal scent, but their eyes…. Not a specific color, just a look. Plus, they usually liked to flash their double rows of horrifying sharp teeth upon meeting other shifters. Just for a flex. The rabbits could be mean when bothered unnecessarily, but mostly, they were pretty decent. The woman caught him looking again and gave him a little half smile. Her pretty eyes with long, thick lashes were definitely not the strange eyes of a rabbit shifter.

“I’ll see you later, Trevor.” Blackwell gave him a pointed stare.

“You’re alright here?”

“I’m fine. I have Nathan,” Blackwell gestured to his giant assistant and body guard who was seated in a chair in the kitchenette, reading a book.

No code phrases were used, and Trevor didn’t detect any signs of distress from the mountain lion shifter or his bear shifter assistant. Trevor nodded. Apparently, Blackwell had no intention of introducing him to the woman sitting with him. Nathan, grinned at Trevor, like he knew something. Fine, Nathan could keep his secret. But Trevor would get information, one way or another.

Purchase Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZT58GXZ

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/coyotes-vow-christina-lynn-lambert/1143274092?ean=2940185830819

Kobo Books: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/coyote-s-vow

Author Bio:

Before I had the wild idea to write a book, I worked in a few different fields. I was in sales for a while, and after I finished college, I worked as a case manager. When my children were little, I was a personal trainer and running coach. During the evenings, when I was supposed to be studying for another fitness training certification, I started writing a story. Finally, I gave in and acknowledged that writing is what I’m meant to do. I love creating imperfect but determined characters who find the courage to love and the strength to survive in a world where there are no guarantees. My stories include a fair amount of sarcasm, suspense, steam, and violence. When I’m not writing, I enjoy spending time outside and finding ways to avoid cooking. I live in beautiful Virginia with my husband, two teenagers, a sweet, hairy monster of a dog, and two devious cats. 

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