The third book in the Lone Star Sisters series, 2009

IN THE MOVIES there was always a warning before something bad happened. Music swelled, the good guy promised everything would be fine now or the camera suddenly went into slow motion.

Life wasn’t so tidy.

Izzy Titan sat in the window seat, as she had every day for the past month, staring out at a blurry world and feeling sorry for herself. While it wasn’t a career choice everyone would make, it filled the day. She ignored her sisters’ pleas that she join them for lunch or shopping or even come downstairs to dinner. Like a regular person. When it got too annoying, she pointed out she wasn’t regular anymore-she was handicapped. If that didn’t work, she slammed the door and locked it until they went away. She’d always given everything she had, so she was ready to become the self-pity queen, if necessary.

Finally her sisters stopped bugging her. Which should have been a really big clue.

There wasn’t any warning. One minute she was sitting in her usual spot, the next, someone grabbed her around the waist, pulled her to her feet, then tossed her over a very broad, very hard shoulder.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she yelled as blood rushed to her head, making her a little dizzy.

“My job. Go ahead and fight me all you want. You can’t hurt me.”

It was a challenge she couldn’t ignore. But when she tried to kick her attacker, he wrapped one arm around her legs, holding her still. Wiggling didn’t help either. The man had muscles like rock and a month of immobilizing self-pity had left her girlishly weak.

“I swear,” she began, as the guy turned and started walking. “Do you know who I am?”