âStop saying that. Iâm not,â Kent insisted. âI didnât do anything that anyone else in the department wouldnât have done.â
âBut they didnât step in front of that bullet,â Erin said. âYou did.â
âIt was reflex, nothing more.â
âWhy wonât you take credit for it? Why didnât you tell me about it?â
He arched his brows. âWould you have believed me?â
âProbably not. I would have figured youâd made it up to impress me, to get me to change my mind about you.â
âSo why do you believe it now?â
Dear Reader,
I think itâs important that we all have a heroâsomeone we aspire to be like or someone who inspires us to be more than we are or someone who takes care of us. When I was growing up, my big brother was my hero. He defended me against the neighborhood bully and piggybacked me across the creek because I couldnât swim. Heroes also protect usâlike the heroes in my CITIZENâS POLICE ACADEMY series.
Writing Once a Hero, the second book in the miniseries (the first was also part of the MEN MADE IN AMERICA miniseriesâOnce a Lawman, HAR, Feb. 2009), was very important to me. Sergeant Kent Terlecki is a hero whose story needed to be told even though heâs uncomfortable with being called that. He doesnât consider himself to be special, and neither does heroine Erin Powell. Well, not at first!
I hope you enjoy their story, in which they both learn Once a Hero, always a hero.
Happy reading!
Lisa Childs
Bestselling, award-winning author Lisa Childs writes paranormal and contemporary romance for Harlequin/Silhouette Books. She lives on thirty acres in west Michigan with her husband, two daughters, a talkative Siamese and a long-haired Chihuahua who thinks sheâs a rottweiler. Lisa loves hearing from readers, who can contact her through her Web site, www.lisachilds.com, or by snail mail at P.O. Box 139, Marne, MI 49435.
With much gratitude to the
Grand Rapids Police Department for helping me understand and appreciate the very special heroes that police officers are.
And with love for my brothers,
Tony, Mike and Chrisâfor showing me my first examples of heroism by being my heroes!
Conversations stopped and heads swiveled toward her as Erin Powell walked into the meeting room on the third floor of the Lakewood Police Department. Since she was the first citizen to arrive for the Citizenâs Police Academy program, the people staring at her were men and women âin blue.â The Lakewood, Michigan, police department, however, wore black uniforms, which she believed matched one particular officerâs soul.
Despite all the stares, her gaze was drawn to his. Sergeant Kent Terleckiâs steely-gray eyes must have been how heâd earned his nickname Bullet. She had asked the blond-haired man a couple of times for an explanation of his moniker, but he had shrugged off that question, just as heâd shrugged off most of her others. Some public information officer heâd proved to be for the departmentâa media liaison who wouldnât deal with the media.
Ignoring the unwelcoming looks and the awkward silence, Erin squared her shoulders and walked across the room toward where all the officers stood against the far wall. She dropped her organizer onto a table, the thud echoing in the large space.
As if he intended to cite her for disturbing the peace, Terlecki stalked over to her. His long-legged strides closed the distance between them in short order.
âSpeak of the devil,â she murmured.
âIâm not, but that doesnât stop you from demonizing me,â he accused as he held out a folded section of the Lakewood Chronicle.
Satisfaction filled her as she stared down at the article she had writtenâabout him. She wanted everyone to see Kent Terlecki as the fraud he really was, and so she had titled her article, Public Information Officerâs Desperate PR Ploy.
âDid I hit a nerve?â she asked, tipping up her chin to meet that hard gaze of his. While she was above average height, he was taller, with broad shoulders. But he didnât intimidate her, although she suspected he tried.
âYouâd have to actually write a grain of truth to hit a nerve, so I donât think thereâs any chance that youâll ever do that, Ms. Powell.â
Ignoring the sting of his insult, Erin smiled and asked, âIf you think Iâm such a hack, why did you let me into the class?â
The paper rustled as he clenched his hand into a fist. âDespite what your article claims, Iâm not in charge of the Citizenâs Police Academyânot as a desperate maneuver to improve the departmentâs image or my own. Neither needs improving.â
âReally?â She lifted a brow skeptically. âAccording to the last poll in the Chronicle, the public believes the Lakewood PD could use some improvement.â