Georgia Roots Revealed: The Romy Files, #1
By Savannah Verte and Shelly Small
()
About this ebook
She thought she was getting away. She wasn't.
In the time it took FBI agent Romy Griffin to doze off, she was pulled into another horrific case. Her empathic abilities made her a better agent, but also an easier target. The latest draws her into a nightmare that has been playing out for nearly as long as she's been alive…and not by coincidence.
When it's over, maybe she'll get to rest, but before that, she'll have to uncover the crimes of her uncle, learn the role her mother played in the mess, and come face to face with her father…just as her Georgia roots are revealed.
Who needs enemies when you have family?
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Titles in the series (5)
Georgia Roots Revealed: The Romy Files, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGeorgia's Forsaken: The Romy Files, #2 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGeorgia Misfits: The Romy Files, #2.5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGeorgia's Secret: The Romy Files, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGeorgia's Demise: The Romy Files, #4 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Georgia Roots Revealed - Savannah Verte
Georgia Roots
Revealed
THE ROMY FILES – Book 1
EBB3Georgia Roots Revealed
By Savannah Verte & Shelly Small
Published by
Eclectic Bard Books
USA
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased is coincidental. The characters, names, plots, or incidents within are the product of the author’s imagination. References to actual events or locations are included to give the fiction a sense of reality.
Copyright 2018, Savannah Verte & Shelly Small.
All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form, by any means without written consent from Savannah Verte, Shelly Small, or Eclectic Bard Books.
Cover design: Suzanna Lynn, Funky Book Designs, 2018.
Dedications
To my daughter for always believing in me and seeing me as your hero.
To my son who keeps reminding me to not forget the little people
.
Lastly to my aunt whose life was cut way to short.
~Shelly
~~~
To Captain Dell Peterson, for teaching me that truth matters, especially when it is inconvenient. Our public comportment is illusion. Who we are when no one watches is the truest test of our character.
Integrity has a price-tag.
Live as though every moment matters…because, they do.
~Sav
Acknowledgements
First, I want to thank my co-author Savannah Verte for the push to start writing and for the opportunity to write with her. I have learned so much from you and I know I will learn more as I continue to write. I hope we get to co-write more in the future. I can think of at least one other book in the near future.
I want to thank my husband for understanding when I need to work and not cook like I wanted or to watch movies or our shows. To my daughter who was a voice of encouragement when I needed it, even if it was over the phone. Can’t forget my son who would always make more coffee or get me more water so I could continue to work. Love ya all.
Lastly, to my friends and readers of this new adventure of mine. I want to thank you for taking a chance on me as an author and I hope you will stick with me for what’s to come next. ~ Shelly
~~~
To the greats; Grisham, DeMille, Clancy, and the host of others who’ve held my attention through countless tale-twisters, and given me a firm foundation of LOVE for the mystery/thriller genre. I bask in the shadow of your lessons.
To the unwavering source of my sanity, my family.
To my team, for the laughter.
To my PA, Jennifer for everything.
To the readers, forever isn’t long enough.
And, to Shelly, for embracing the journey. ~ Savannah
ONE
All aboard!
The conductor shouted, startling Romy from her distractions. How had she gotten here? It was all still a blur. The last thing she remembered was the phone call and the I’m sorry…
from the other end through the receiver, a voice she didn’t know, telling her that her grandmother, Emily, the only family she’d ever known, had passed away while she had been working on the latest case that had kept her awake for too many hours, too many days in a row.
Looking down at the ticket, it was a call for her train, Number 97, The Silver Meteor Service headed south from DC toward sandy beaches, sunshine, and no thoughts…courtesy of a fruity drink with an umbrella and a colorful straw. She only had half an inkling where she was going, South. She would study the map once she was boarded and settled into her compartment.
When she had decided to get a private compartment instead of her normal money-saving seat in general ticketing, she couldn’t say. It was part of the blur that had brought her to this point. The latest case had been exhausting on more than a physical level, but then again, they all were anymore. She had no more idea what drove her, or why she saw the horrors she saw behind her eyelids when they managed to close. Sadly, they were always related, and part of the solution.
Unfortunately, her coworkers had noticed. As an empath, she had always walked a fine line between seeing the case, and experiencing it. This one, a serial rapist with a taste for those too young to defend themselves, had been almost more than she could bear. Sleep had been elusive, more so than any recent case she could remember. It was nearly unbearable to close her eyes, knowing that she would be submerged in seeing, and experiencing, what was happening to the girls, also knowing she would be too late. Even her morning coffee with the double espresso shot was not enough to overcome the constant feeling of jet lag. In the end, a random landmark she’d noticed in the background was the break they needed to locate the scene, and finally close the nightmare…for her, and any possible future victims.
Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice the events around her or even the crush of bodies that bounced her as she tried to make her way to her assigned cabin for the trip. She absently noted she had a bag in her hand, realizing that if anyone would ask, she couldn’t say what was in it. She didn’t remember packing. It wouldn’t surprise her, even a little bit, to open it and find only sheets of paper from some random case, and the toothbrush she never left home without. She was hopeful it was clothes. She really didn’t want to go shopping whenever she got wherever she ended up.
She was hopeful too that she had remembered to call her boss and ask for the time off. It wasn’t like her to just take off, though given the circumstances, it was entirely possible. She remembered speaking to him, though the memory was foggy, and just as likely case related. She would have to remember to check in. Stan would worry if she hadn’t. He was good like that. She knew she had plenty of time coming, but how much she had actually taken would be good to know. She had never managed to take more than a day between cases before. Any arrangements she made before buying the train ticket were a fuzzy spot in her memory now.
Reaching her compartment, the snick of the latch was loud as the