Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense Read Online Free PDF Page B

again.
    It had taken her a couple of years to adjust to it, and sometimes it still took her off guard. Damn it, sore body or not, weak legs or not, she had to move. Cradling the phone on her shoulder, she used the desk for balance as she climbed to her feet.
    The room didn’t start spinning—that was good.
    Okay, a few steps … still no spinning. Even better. Slowly, she moved to the window, resting her brow on the icy glass.
    “Are you okay?”
    Shay laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it.“Okay? Yeah. Sure. Why not?” Sighing, she lifted her head away from the glass and turned back to her desk. The computer sat there, the screen glaringly white. Okay, so somebody had set up a Facebook page for her. She could deal with that mess—she’d just get it shut down. It wasn’t her page, she didn’t want it there, end of story. Since she hadn’t set it up, that made it a fraud and there had to be rules on Facebook’s site against that, right?
    Shay always dealt better with things when she had a solution in sight.
    There was still the problem of the book—of
all
of those books back at Elliot’s store—and she’d deal with that one, too.
    First, she had to get off the phone, though. “Darcy, look, I need to figure out what’s going on. So we’ll talk later.”
    “But—”
    She hung up. Darcy would keep her on the phone for the next two hours and although Shay loved her dearly, she just didn’t have time for it.
    The woman she remembered from school was just … different. Oh, Darcy still loved to talk, but the funny, free-spirited chatter had been replaced and more often than not, Shay was stuck listening to chatter about TV shows, or hot guys that Shay had never heard of, or why wasn’t Shay getting better placement at some bookstore in Boise, Idaho.
    A pang of longing hit her. She missed her friend. But she just didn’t have time to deal with the chattering or nonsense right now.
    Surrounded by the peaceful silence of her home, Shay pushed Darcy out of her mind. She bent over the desk and set to work. She didn’t use Facebook, although she’d set up a dummy account for a book she’d written a year ago where the killer had stalked his victimsthrough the social media site and she’d needed to understand how the platform worked.
    Using that persona, she logged in and started poking around.
    “This isn’t good,” she muttered as she did the
LIKE
thing. More than ten thousand fans. Shit. Shit.
Shit
.
    Six weeks ago …
    All of the info on the page was crap that could be found on Shane’s admittedly minuscule website. She kept it short and sweet for a reason—it was all about the books, what had been written and what was coming. Next to no info on her—or him, as the world thought Shane was a guy.
    There weren’t any author photos on the Facebook page. The images were all of her book covers and that sort of thing. She was both grateful and a little frustrated. While it would have been terrifying if somebody had pictures of
her
and freaky if somebody had been posting pictures masquerading as her “other” self, having a picture of somebody might have clued her in to what was going on. Maybe.
    What was really disturbing, though, was how this person related to the world. Although there was no
way
Shay would be doing this, it sure as hell sounded like her. A lot. She recognized phrases she used, her general attitude … everything.
    The worst thing of all was that the imposter “Shane” sounded like a woman.
    It was pretty damn clear by the interaction on Facebook that many of the readers there didn’t seem to buy the
guy
bit anymore. The commentary on the page from the
Shane
wannabe had a decidedly female voice to it and about two weeks ago, the imposter had up and stated:
    Yes, I’m female … I admit it … lol!
    “Lucky guess? Or did you know?” Shay murmured, stroking one of her scars and steaming. The more she read, the angrier she got. Hardly
anybody
knew. A few might suspect,