SAMET Suspense Sampler

By CB Samet

From four-time award-winning author CB Samet comes a collection of stories packed with action, suspense, and romance.

Connor File (a Rider Files novella)
Rick Swanson loves his job as a firefighter, and when the intriguing ER doctor, Mackenzie Connor, catches his eye, the temperature rises. But his world is sent on a tailspin when an arsonist has an agenda of revenge. Rick needs to deal with this threat if he's going to get his life back on track.

Mackenzie Connor is falling fast for fireman Rick, until he inexplicably distances himself. When she learns he's trying to protect her from a crazed arsonist, she won't be idle. And she won't back down from danger. She enlists the help of the elite Rider Security and Investigation team, but can she reach Rick in time to save him or will they both go up in flames?

***

Phoebe's Pharaoh (Romancing the Spirit Series)
An ancient Egyptian tomb. The discovery of a lifetime. And a treasure shrouded in danger.

When a ghostly pharaoh solicits Phoebe's help to uncover an ancient tomb, long forgotten, Phoebe Montgomery embraces the task to reunite the ghost with his wife's spirit. On the insistence of her protective brother, Phoebe hires former Marine, Oz Levine. But they aren't the only ones venturing to wake the dead and claim the buried fortune.

 

Oz Levine is readjusting to civilian life after injury in the line of duty. He agrees to help the plucky museum curator—Phoebe without knowing about her paranormal sidekick and the danger they'll both be drawn into.

After they enter the tomb, they realize they're not the only one's seeking the discovery. They must trust each other and the help of a pharaoh if they're to escape the tomb alive.

***

Red Threat (A Dr. Whyte Adventure Novella)
Lillian Whyte's day started as any other--medical emergencies followed by touring the new ER and ICU tower construction. But when armed gunmen storm the building and take hostages, Lillian's won't be idle on the sidelines. Determined to uncover their motive, Lillian comes face to face with danger and she may never leave the building alive.

***

Raven's Flight (A Shadow Guardians Novella)
Avery Swift's tropical vacation turns into a nightmare when she kills a Dark Elf in self defense. With the help of Shadow Guardian Jake Folkvar and three mysterious Thoren sisters, Avery learns more about the shadow war and creatures of light and dark. Determined to help war efforts, she and Jake embark on a hunt for elusive uru--a metal used to forge powerful weapons against the rising evil. But they aren't the only ones after the ore, and if they aren't careful, they may not leave the island alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CB Samet
• Release date: Oct 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201634742

Book preview

Chapter 1

G ood shift. Rick jabbed Pike lightly in the arm as they drove through the neighborhood. They’d responded to two medical emergencies, two car accidents, one fire alarm, and one apartment fire. Every call had run remarkably smoothly. 

Good shift. His friend nodded.

Thanks for the ride. My truck should be out of the shop tomorrow. Rick’s vehicle had developed a strange rattle when accelerating. He’d tinkered with the Ram to the extent of his knowledge, checking the valves, engine mount, and exhaust components. When he’d reached the limit of his mechanical abilities, he’d had someone more experienced evaluate the truck.

No problem, Pike said. Kim’s out of town, so I have a chance to enjoy your company for a few hours and wind down. I’ll have to limit myself to two beers in order to drive you home. His teammate was a full foot shorter than Rick and further contrasted with dark hair and dark skin with Rick’s light skin and eyes. Despite Pike’s height, his enormous biceps could out-bench anyone in the fire station, and Kim often joked they were the reason she married him.

I can rideshare if need be, Rick said.

Pulling into his driveway, Pike waved away his friend’s suggestion as his face lit with anticipation. I’ve got this new brew you need to try. No way you’re going to guess my secret ingredient this time.

Rick smiled, happy he had a friend in his unit whose hobby was brewing his own beer. Pike was proficient at it, and Rick didn’t mind being the taste tester. He had a knack for tastes and smells and could often guess Pike’s ingredients, so they’d made a game of it years ago.

Challenge accepted, Rick said. Few things were more enjoyable than a cold beer on a summer evening while relaxing on Pike’s back porch after a busy day.

Pike parked, hopped out, and headed for the door. Rick moved a little slower behind him. He’d tweaked a hamstring on the last call—an apartment fire on the fifth floor where someone had been smoking while wearing oxygen. They’d kept the flames contained to the one apartment and rescued the victim, though Rick didn’t know the woman’s likelihood of survival. She had extensive burns and probably smoke inhalation injury on top of her pre-existing lung disease. The paramedics had whisked her away to Regional Hospital, the nearest burn unit.

When he closed the car door, a scent hit Rick. Smoke. He sniffed his clothes. He’d showered at the station after his shift, so the smell shouldn’t be him. It was pungent, like burning plaster and upholstery. Like the apartment fire. The odor was distinct from a brush or forest fire, whose earthy scent he liked, and different from textile and chemical fires, which were more acrid.

He looked over at Pike’s house, catching a flicker of light in the windows. Small streams of smoke were barely noticeable against the dark sky. Alarm raised the hair on his neck and ratcheted up his heart rate.

Pike had already unlocked the door.

Pike, wait! Rick bellowed. 

As Pike swung the door open, the fire flashed outward, a great billowing red dragon that unleashed an angry roar and knocked his friend backward, down his porch steps.

Pike! Rick ran toward him, ignoring the heat and choking smoke from the house engulfed in flames. He had to reach his friend.

Mackenzie Connor sutured the central line in place below the patient’s collar bone. She needed the larger intravenous line to administer treatments to the critical patient. I’m done, Susan. Can you let x-ray know they can swing by for a portable? she asked the ER nurse.

No problem.

I’m going to make a few calls and get him a room at the inn, Mackenzie said.

The patient had septic shock. What had started out at home as the flu had progressed to bacterial pneumonia and respiratory failure. She’d sedated him in order to place him on a breathing machine, but he now needed an ICU bed and an Intensivist.

After pulling off her personal protective equipment, she discarded the disposable items in the trash and shifted her reading glasses to the top of her head. Around her, the ER bustled with activity and the intermittent beeping of monitors and machines that Mackenzie had learned to tune out after years of working in the emergency room.

She checked her watch–two more hours to go of her twelve-hour shift left. The day had flown by with a mix of patients, from the sniffles to raging blood sugar levels to a potpourri of trauma. She’d chosen the field of emergency medicine because each shift provided a variety of patients and a full spectrum of ailments she’d been trained to treat.

Dr. Connor, incoming trauma, Susan reported. 

Okay. Is bay two ready? 

Yes. Dr. Rider took the EMS call while you were handling the last room. Susan held up an index card and read off of it. Forty-year-old male. House fire and blast injury. Alert and protecting his airway. Hemodynamically stable.

Thanks. I'll grab the flexible bronchoscope in case his airway is singed. Delayed swelling and airway closure could occur, training and experience had taught her that, and Mackenzie wanted to be prepared in case intubation was needed.

Sounds good. Oh, and bed four is sobering up. Susan gave her a sympathetic shrug.

Oh, good. I'll get to see Mr. Johnson’s colorful, sober side before my shift is up. At best, the frequent flyer would leave against medical advice, at worst he would berate the staff and then leave against medical advice. Mackenzie rolled her eyes playfully at Susan.

Chapter 2

Rick paced the waiting room, anxious for an update on Pike. Chairs lined the walls, but he was too restless to sit. Only a few other people dotted the seats, everyone distanced from the strangers who also awaited news about a loved one.

An hour had trudged by, and Pike’s wife had already called twice, hoping to receive a good report. The paramedics had immobilized his friend on the scene and whisked him to Regional Hospital downtown—a level one trauma center with a burn unit. Rick hadn’t seen him since.

Rick's only consolation was that Pike had been lucid before they transported him. He’d asked Rick to call his wife and tell her he was going to be okay and that he loved her. The burns on his clothes looked minor, but the potential damage to his body from the impact with the ground when the fire had blown him back had Rick worried.

When he’d called Kim with news, she’d broken down in tears over the phone. Rick had never felt so useless and inexplicably filled with guilt—perhaps something akin to survivor’s remorse. If he’d smelled the smoke sooner, noticed the flames, he could have stopped Pike from opening that door.

A woman in black scrubs stepped into the waiting room. She had blonde hair with a tinge of red caught up in a curly, messy bun and a pair of red-framed reading glasses were tucked into the nest.

Instinctively, Rick stepped toward her, suspecting she was a physician by her air of authority and hoping she was Pike’s physician.

Mr. Elkin’s family?

He stepped closer. I'm Rick Swanson. Doctor...? He extended a hand.

She took it tentatively, perhaps noting the lack of resemblance in the men. Rick kept the grip gentle, respecting her healing hands. She had large hazel eyes that looked a little tired. She stood only a few inches shorter than him, which made her tall for a woman. 

Dr. Connor, she said.

I'm Pike’s teammate, not family, but family. I have his wife on speed dial. 

Dr. Connor glanced at his shirt, reminding him he was covered in dirt and soot from kneeling beside Pike in his front yard. 

You’re firefighters?

He looked down at the white logo on the right side of his navy T-shirt. FULTON COUNTY FIRE RESCUE was written around a ladder, fire hydrant, and axe.

Yes, he answered.

No protective gear?

Her tone wasn't accusatory, and Rick reasoned she was wondering how Pike got burned.

She continued, I've treated my share of first responders, and firefighters seldom come in with burns. Despite the hazards you throw yourselves into, your gear usually keeps you from burns and airway damage.

Airway damage? Rick swallowed. The fire was at his house. Off duty.

I’m very sorry to hear that. Please, follow me.

The sincerity in her voice set Rick at ease, even as he dreaded what news she had for him that couldn’t be spoken in an open waiting room. The suspense was agony. He needed to update Kim and the entire unit. News traveled like wildfire among the fire department—pun intended—so a plethora of worried coworkers were waiting by their phones to hear Pike’s status.

The physician paused outside a patient room door along a row of closed doors. A shade was pulled over the window, making the inside impossible to see.

Can you call his wife? Dr. Connor asked.

Rick pulled out his phone, dialed Kim’s number, and put it on speaker.

Hello? Kim’s hopeful voice gutted him.

He ached for good news. Hey, Kim. I have the ER doctor here, Dr. Connor.

Okay.

Dr. Connor said, Mrs. Elkin, I’d like to give you an update. Are you okay if Mr. Swanson listens in? I have to ask, since he’s not a blood relative.

Yes, he’s like a brother to Pike. He can hear anything you have to say.

Your husband is stable. I was able to clear his spine, meaning he had no significant trauma. He has an inhalation injury though, so I intubated him for airway protection, meaning he’s on a ventilator until the swelling subsides.

How long will that take? Kim asked, voice trembling.

With the steroids, usually twenty-four to seventy-two hours.

That’s good. That’s good news, Kim said.

Rick watched Dr. Connor’s guarded expression. 

How would you describe Pike’s overall condition? he asked.

He’s healthy otherwise, and the only damage aside from his airway are a few non-life-threatening burns. Best-case scenario is that the swelling goes down in twenty-four hours and the breathing tube comes out. 

Worst-case scenario? Rick pushed.

He didn’t want to upset Kim, but they needed to know what they were up against. He didn’t run into building fires without preparing for the worst, so he approached the injury to his best friend the same way.

Infection would be a setback.

Kim sniffed. I’m flying back tonight. I’ll be there in the morning.

I’ll stay with him, Rick assured Kim. And I’ll call you with any updates.

Thank you. And thank you, doctor, Kim said.

Rick disconnected the call.

You’re optimistic? he asked Dr. Connor.

I’m optimistic. Her lips curved in a tired smile, invoking in Rick the urge to hug this complete stranger—partly for the hope she’d given him and partly because he wished he could absorb some of the strength radiating off of her.

Do you need me to take a look at those? She gestured to the scrapes and cuts on his arms he’d incurred when he moved Pike away from the heat and burning debris of the house.

Now that he wasn’t stressed from worrying about the survival of his friend, he noticed how attractive she was—sloping cheekbones, smooth skin, and warm, gold-flecked eyes. Freckles peppered her nose and rosy cheeks. The scrubs obscured her figure, but the fabric curved nicely over her backside. Those red-framed glasses probably added a sassy sexiness.

He cleared his throat. He definitely didn’t want this woman to be his treating physician and start examining him as a patient. I’m fine. It’s all minor. He brushed uselessly at his shirt before raising his gaze back to hers, which snagged briefly on her name tag, Mackenzie Connor, MD.

She wore an odd expression, as though she saw through his dismissive shrug and into the attraction he felt for her.

He shifted his weight. Listen, uh...

A female nurse with short, brown hair and blue scrubs came around the corner. Dr. Connor, radiology called about bed one. She has a pneumothorax on the left side.

Oh, collapsed lung, Rick thought. That can’t be good.

Thanks, Susan. Dr. Connor turned back to Rick. Um, that’s my cue to exit stage left. Need to go place a chest tube.

He gave her a wry smile. Go save another life, Doc.

She smiled with flushed cheeks as she darted off.

Whew, saved by the nurse, he thought.

What idiotic thing had he been about to say? Can I have your number? Do you want to go out sometime? Whatever request might have left his lips would have been completely inappropriate under the circumstances.

So was the way he watched her walk away. She had a confident stride with swaying hips as fly-away strands of hair trailed behind her.

She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that meant nothing. Maybe she wasn’t married, or maybe she didn’t wear her ring at work where she might risk losing it or damaging it in an emergency.

He pulled out his phone to let the department know Pike’s condition. As it rang, he wondered how he might arrange to see Mackenzie Connor again. Hopefully, he could make his second impression better than the first.

Mackenzie applied the last Steri Strip to the boy’s chin. There you go. You were very brave. Next time, maybe try one person at a time on the trampoline.

The child nodded. He’d been bouncing with his sister when they’d butted heads. The cut to his chin wasn’t severe enough to warrant stitches, but Mackenzie had glued it back together and held the opposing sides in place with the Steri Strips. The wound would heal with minimal scarring.

If it’s okay with your mom, I’ll have the nurse grab you a popsicle.

He turned a pair of big blue eyes toward his mother.

Yes. She gave a smile, still edged with worry, and moved her hand from stroking his arm to tousling his blond hair. He can have one.

Mackenzie patted the boy’s knee before leaving. She stopped a passing nurse in the hall and let her know about delivering the popsicle and discharge paperwork. 

That finished, she moved to one of the standing desks to finish her end of shift documentation.

Her notes took less time than expected to complete. She logged off of the computer program and rolled her shoulders and neck as she considered how she was going to need to summon a little energy to get on her stationary bike before bed.

She grabbed her small cooler from the employee break room and lifted an energy drink out while hoisting the bag over her shoulder. As she headed for the exit, she paused by the room where the firefighter lay.

He hadn’t been transported up to the burn unit yet due to hospital overcrowding—some of the other ICUs were full, so critical patients were occupying beds in the burn unit, but staff were working on making room. His buddy faithfully sat in the uncomfortable bedside chair, head in his hands. 

She wasn’t sure if he was praying or sleeping. Regardless, firm biceps and broad shoulders held his head. Those muscles could probably hold up an entire house. She leaned on the doorway, admiring his build and recalling the way he’d been gentle, respectful, and direct, all in the face of the stress he was under. Clearly, he was a man of character. Most people weren't so congenial in her ER, but that was to be expected, as they were often experiencing some of the worst events of their lives. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Pike and that a speedy recovery awaited him.

As she watched Rick, she recalled the way he’d grinned and told her to go save a life earlier. He’d looked at her like she was a superhero, making her feel like she could leap over buildings in a single bound when some days surviving the chaos was her only accomplishment.

Rick inhaled deeply and sat upright, turning to look at her as if he had sensed her standing here.

Doctor?

She straightened, hoping he hadn’t noticed her ogling. Your friend should get a room soon. I’m sorry for your wait.

He stood and took a few steps toward her. At least he’s resting.

Chemically induced to keep him comfortable for now. Well, as comfortable as one can be with a breathing tube.

Rick’s green eyes were positively mesmerizing, like an emerald ocean. He had faint stubble on his jaw and full lips. Those eyes, though, they drew her in, and she wanted to take away the sadness in them. But she wouldn't infuse false hope into Pike’s situation in order to make Rick and herself feel better. His condition was stable but guarded. That’s all she could give him.

Even so, she wanted to hug him as a gesture of comfort. However, doing so would be inappropriate and unprofessional, so she thrust out the unopened beverage in her hand. You look like you need a pick me up.

He took the drink with a slight smile, easing closer to her. Thanks. He ran a hand through his blond hair. Listen, Mackenzie—can I call you Mackenzie?

She swallowed, perplexed by heat rising in her cheeks and her heart thumping rampantly.

Rick continued, I have to ask you something, and I hope you don’t have me thrown out on my ass. Would you—

Transport for Pike Elkin, excuse us. A young man’s voice came from behind Mackenzie, jolting them. They stepped back guiltily as a respiratory therapist and two nurses in scrubs walked between them to the patient.

With Rick distracted by their arrival, Mackenzie took the opportunity to slip away and exit the ER. By the time she reached the medical center garage, her heart rate had slowed, but she still felt feverish. Rick had been a foot away from her with an intense stare that made her knees weak, and she was no swooning dame.

She didn’t react to men that way, and certainly never in her place of employment. Furthermore, the ER was the least romantic environment on the planet next to a toxic waste dump. He’d probably been about to ask her where the restroom was, while she was fantasizing about shredding his shirt with her fingernails.

In the parking deck, the June air hung humid around her. She found her Prius and slid behind the wheel.

Can I call you Mackenzie?

All night long, baby, especially in that slow, deep voice.

As she started her car, she silently scolded herself for her nonsense even as she suspected he would play a starring role in her next fantasy when she found herself alone and lonely in her bedroom.

Due to visiting hour restrictions, Rick was politely booted out of the burn unit. He wasn't exactly accomplishing anything as he held vigil at Pike’s bedside, so he reluctantly relented. He grabbed a water bottle from the vending machine down the hall before taking the elevators down to the hospital lobby.

On a rideshare home, he texted everyone with updates, which wasn't much. Pike had done nothing except sleep, but at least that provided reassuring news to share.

On autopilot, he let himself into his house, stripped, and showered. As he washed, he planned his day. After a few hours of sleep, he would be refreshed enough to make sure Kim was okay. He could even visit Pike with her later today when she got back into town so she wouldn’t have to face seeing him in the ICU alone.

Thoughts of going back to the hospital had him wondering how to bump into Dr. Connor. Unless he misread the situation, her body language suggested she was interested in him too. The nuances were subtle: brief lingering gaze, a glance at his lips, and a bob of her throat. He’d noticed a lot about her.

Like her smell. Damn, she had smelled good. A faint citrus scent, as if it was a lotion or soap she used rather than a more potent perfume. The scent of her had filled his senses as she stood at the edge of the room, drawing him from his bedside dozing.

Had she been watching her patient or watching him?

For better or worse, the transport team had interrupted their intense moment. She probably would have laughed in his face if he’d gotten the words out to ask her to dinner. No, he corrected himself, she was probably too classy to laugh at anyone. She would have stiffened, withdrawn, and excused herself to rush away from him—some stranger in her ER hitting on her.

Either way, the rejection would have stung and dashed his hopes of seeing her again. Instead, he now had the opportunity to figure out how to ask her out under better circumstances. Well, perhaps not better, since Pike was still hurt, but Rick could at least be wearing clean clothes and not smell like smoke and dirt.

Mackenzie probably worked twelve-hour shifts, so he was doubtful she would be in the ER this afternoon when he went with Kim. Could he linger to see her? But how quickly would the lingering of a non-patient be noticed and he be sent away? Would she even want a dinner offer while she was trying to work? Women didn't show up at the firehouse to ask firemen out to dinner.

Well, not usually.

He needed another plan. But first, sleep. Glorious sleep.

Chapter 3

M om?

Mackenzie blinked her eyes open. Hey. How's my little Penelope? She pulled her daughter into bed with her. Are you home from school already?

Mom, it's three p.m.

So it is. How was your day?

Peter stabbed me with a pencil in class today, she declared with childish affront.

Stabbed you, eh? How many stitches? Since