Hi, I'm Tracie Momie. Writer, storyteller, and indie author.
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I'm so excited about the upcoming release of my new romantic mystery, You Had Me Fooled.
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You Had Me Fooled
Teaser Trailer
A fast-paced romantic mystery featuring complex and cunning characters. The ending will stay with readers long after the final page!
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It's been two months since Chelsea Anderson’s husband died in a hotel fire. Filled with regrets and melancholy memories, Chelsea joins a grief support group. There she meets Paul Bryant. Paul is mourning the loss of his wife and has his own share of regrets. Chelsea feels a connection with Paul and sees him as a kindred spirit.
After an overzealous investigator recovers suspicious items from the ashes of her husband's hotel room, Chelsea realizes just how little she knew about the man she married. A trail of secrets leads to a shocking betrayal sending Chelsea into Paul's waiting arms. Things continue to spiral out of control as new evidence points to the fire being set intentionally and Paul becomes the number one suspect! |
The audiobook will now be available on February 1st.
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Read An Excerpt
My vision blurred as soon as my head hit the floor, but thankfully, the carpet absorbed most of the impact. I grunted and lay there for a few seconds, trying to let the dizzying sensation pass. After I managed to push myself to a sitting position, his fist connected with my jaw. The blow made me bite the inside of my cheek, coating my tongue with blood. I coughed and spit on the floor.
I’d always imagined when death came for me, I’d be an old man around ninety-nine. Sitting in front of a window where an apathetic home healthcare aide had parked my wheelchair for the afternoon. My heart would stutter once, twice, three times before it finally gave out. Death by natural causes after I’d lived almost a century. A life filled with indelible achievements.
Dying in a hotel room at thirty-two and broke was not the way my life was supposed to end.
“Tell me where it is!” The demand sounded like a growl. He kicked me in the stomach, forcing the air out of my lungs. I rolled on to my back and tried to catch my breath.
“Please, no more. I’ll get it, I swear,” I panted.
In the room’s darkness, I could barely make out his face. But behind him, the moonlight illuminated the arm hanging over the side of the bed.
He stepped aside, giving me a break from his beating. I curled into the fetal position, wondering if they could hear my groans in the room next door. My mind went into overdrive thinking of possible strategies to get me out of this alive. The sound of scratching followed by a soft skitch, interrupted my thoughts. He had lit a match. My eyes widened as he brought the match to a cigarette dangling from his lips. For a second, I thought he might set me on fire.
“This is your last chance.” He took a long drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke towards the ceiling. He lit another match and walked over to the bed. I had to tell him something before he burned her alive!
Sitting up quickly, I sputtered. “My-my house. It’s-it’s saved on my hard drive.” I thought he would insist on taking me home to get the information, but he just glared at me before tossing the match on the bed. The bedspread ignited sending yellow and orange flames close to where she lay unconscious.
I opened my mouth to scream, but before I made a sound, he turned and punched me between the eyes. I fell back to the floor and white spots danced behind my eyelids. When my lids fluttered open again, I saw his shadowy profile walk out of the room. Not long after that, the room filled with smoke, and the bed became engulfed in flames. I coughed violently as my eyes watered.
Pulling the neckline of my shirt up to cover my nose and mouth, I crawled towards the door. The room became so hot; it felt like the fire was on my back. I opened the door and scrambled into the hallway at the same time a few people were wandering out of their rooms.
“What’s that smell?”
“Oh, my God, are you okay? Call 9-1-1! His room is on fire!”
A voice drifted towards me as someone helped me to my feet. Pain coursed through my entire body. I winced and clutched my side, leaning against the wall for support. My hand flew to my throat and I swallowed convulsively, it felt like I was suffocating.
“Close the door, the hallway is filling with smoke!” A woman yelled.
“Hello? Is anybody there? Fire!”
“Fire!”
People were coughing and yelling as they knocked on doors. Suddenly, the shrill ringing of the hotel’s fire alarm blared throughout the hallway.
“Jesus, what happened to you?” A man asked. “Can you walk? We’ve got to get out of the building!” he exclaimed.
I grabbed his arm to tell him someone was still in the room, but he shoved me toward the emergency exit along with the panicked crowd. Only a few of us made it into the stairwell before a deafening explosion shook the building. Our screams echoed through the space. There was another explosion, and this time the walls crumbled. Flames shot up from below, followed by a cloud of black smoke, then the stairwell gave way and bodies started dropping. My last thoughts were of Chelsea. Dear God, please don’t let him hurt her.
I’d always imagined when death came for me, I’d be an old man around ninety-nine. Sitting in front of a window where an apathetic home healthcare aide had parked my wheelchair for the afternoon. My heart would stutter once, twice, three times before it finally gave out. Death by natural causes after I’d lived almost a century. A life filled with indelible achievements.
Dying in a hotel room at thirty-two and broke was not the way my life was supposed to end.
“Tell me where it is!” The demand sounded like a growl. He kicked me in the stomach, forcing the air out of my lungs. I rolled on to my back and tried to catch my breath.
“Please, no more. I’ll get it, I swear,” I panted.
In the room’s darkness, I could barely make out his face. But behind him, the moonlight illuminated the arm hanging over the side of the bed.
He stepped aside, giving me a break from his beating. I curled into the fetal position, wondering if they could hear my groans in the room next door. My mind went into overdrive thinking of possible strategies to get me out of this alive. The sound of scratching followed by a soft skitch, interrupted my thoughts. He had lit a match. My eyes widened as he brought the match to a cigarette dangling from his lips. For a second, I thought he might set me on fire.
“This is your last chance.” He took a long drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke towards the ceiling. He lit another match and walked over to the bed. I had to tell him something before he burned her alive!
Sitting up quickly, I sputtered. “My-my house. It’s-it’s saved on my hard drive.” I thought he would insist on taking me home to get the information, but he just glared at me before tossing the match on the bed. The bedspread ignited sending yellow and orange flames close to where she lay unconscious.
I opened my mouth to scream, but before I made a sound, he turned and punched me between the eyes. I fell back to the floor and white spots danced behind my eyelids. When my lids fluttered open again, I saw his shadowy profile walk out of the room. Not long after that, the room filled with smoke, and the bed became engulfed in flames. I coughed violently as my eyes watered.
Pulling the neckline of my shirt up to cover my nose and mouth, I crawled towards the door. The room became so hot; it felt like the fire was on my back. I opened the door and scrambled into the hallway at the same time a few people were wandering out of their rooms.
“What’s that smell?”
“Oh, my God, are you okay? Call 9-1-1! His room is on fire!”
A voice drifted towards me as someone helped me to my feet. Pain coursed through my entire body. I winced and clutched my side, leaning against the wall for support. My hand flew to my throat and I swallowed convulsively, it felt like I was suffocating.
“Close the door, the hallway is filling with smoke!” A woman yelled.
“Hello? Is anybody there? Fire!”
“Fire!”
People were coughing and yelling as they knocked on doors. Suddenly, the shrill ringing of the hotel’s fire alarm blared throughout the hallway.
“Jesus, what happened to you?” A man asked. “Can you walk? We’ve got to get out of the building!” he exclaimed.
I grabbed his arm to tell him someone was still in the room, but he shoved me toward the emergency exit along with the panicked crowd. Only a few of us made it into the stairwell before a deafening explosion shook the building. Our screams echoed through the space. There was another explosion, and this time the walls crumbled. Flames shot up from below, followed by a cloud of black smoke, then the stairwell gave way and bodies started dropping. My last thoughts were of Chelsea. Dear God, please don’t let him hurt her.