Excerpt: 'Cathy's Ring'

July 1, 2009— -- Sean Stewart and Jordan Weisman present the third and final book in a trilogy that stars a spunky teen who must escape assassins, stalkers and solve murder cases -- all while dealing with boyfriend troubles.

Read an excerpt of "Cathy's Ring" below and head to the "GMA" Library for more good reads.

Mom was at the hospital working the graveyard shift, and I was alonein the sweltering house. I turned off the air-conditioning as soon as she leftfor work, trying to save money. On hot nights like this, going to bed feltlike I was pitching a tent in a toaster oven. But, in view of my spectacularfailure to pay my share of the mortgage, it seemed like the least I could do.Summer was getting on, and it had been months since the dust had tastedrain. Wildfire season had started: a twenty thousand acre blaze in the Sierrafoothills, and closer to home big grass fires were burning near Gilroy andVacaville and Palo Alto. Dozens of smaller fires had left patches of blackenedgrass along the freeways all the way into San Francisco.

I changed into my lightest PJs, but after a second I decided not totake off the good luck charm my boyfriend, Victor, had given me—aChinese coin threaded on a slim silver chain. He said he'd picked it up atthe hospital gift shop earlier in the day. The unfamiliar weight swung andbumped against my collar bone as I trudged into the bathroom to splashmy face with cold water. The eyes looking back at me from the mirror werebloodshot and exhausted. I shambled back into my bedroom and opened thewindow wide. There was no breeze, just the smell of burning, as if someone inthe distance was holding a match to the darkness and waiting for it to catch.I shoved the blankets off my bed and lay down on top of the sheets towait for sleep. It had only been ten hours since I'd seen a man shot. Everytime I closed my eyes I saw him looking at his bloody chest in surprise: thered blood soaking into the carpet and spattered on the wallpaper behindhim. In the darkness the scorched air smelled like gunpowder.

The dead man's name was Tsao. The last thing he said before he diedwas, "Cathy, I will love you forever."

They say love warms the soul, but it burns it sometimes, too.

It was after midnight when I gave up trying to sleep. I crawled out ofbed, turned on the bedroom light and closed my window. I dug a perfumebottle out of my purse and sat on the end of my bed to examine it. The bottlewas almost round, shaped like a piece of crystal fruit, an apple or a peach.The heavy stopper had been fashioned into a stem with one leaf still clingingto it. The liquid inside was the color of sunlight with a teaspoon of bloodmixed in.

I brought the bottle of perfume up close to my face and took out thestopper. I used to smell things by leaning in and sorta sucking air throughmy nose, like most people do, but when I was being trained as a perfumedemonstrator at the mall they told me you actually get more fragrance if youbreathe normally with your mouth a little open and waft the air toward youwith your hand. I let the scent curl around me, a sweet odor like peacheswith an ugly little undertone of formaldehyde and smoke. It smelled likedesire without hope. Like angels burning.