Marva Dale is the pen name for author Debra McReynolds.  Retired from the public relations field, Debra now spends her free time indulging in her passion for writing.  "I used to fill my school notebooks with stories," Debra relates, "and then add artwork to go along with them.  My second grade teacher, Mrs. Daley, predicted that I would be a writer one day."
A fan of the mystery genre, she enjoys crafting tales with a twist of suspense, a touch of romance, and a bit of humor. 
Debra and her husband, Dale, make their home in El Paso, Texas, with their dog, cats and rabbits.

Sexy, black lawyer, Liberty Sloane is asked to defend a deaf public relations executive accused of killing a well-known physician. Dr. Daniel Baumgard, known for his philanthropy, just opened a new shelter for abused women, although he also ran a women’s healthcare clinic that offers abortions. Madeline Kime promoted the doctor’s endeavors through her PR agency while harboring deep secrets concerning the Baumgard family, including the doctor’s son, Rhett, a congressman, and his socialite wife, Savannah. So who hated the doctor enough to stab him in the foyer of his own home? Liberty has a number of suspects on her list, including a pro-life group, not to mention the additional crimes of stolen clinic files and a blackmail scheme. To complicate matters, she has to fend off the advances of one-time boyfriend Preston Durrell, a private detective, while entertaining a new romance with the officer on the case, Sergeant Byron Keats. Worse, Liberty planned a Caribbean vacation with her BFFs, but has to postpone it in order to defend her client for murder one.

Not at Liberty

"Ethics," Liberty emphasized with a firm tone, although she felt weak, weak and horny as she spoke to Keats on the phone."We can't."


"Screw ethics," he told her."Ethics don't mean squat.I can't hold ethics, I can't kiss ethics, I can't make love to ethics."


"Neither can I, but that's the way it is."She hated to do this, especially when their relationship had taken off from tentative to a firm possibility.But for the sake of their careers and professional self-preservation, they had to cool it for awhile.


"The trial hasn't started yet," Keats reminded her."And this is Easter Sunday, a holy day for rest and reflection, and I say we rest and reflect together with no business, no politics, no legalese to get in the way.In fact, why don't I lay my head on your lap and you can recite poetry to me.Although not quite a religious rite, it's still in tune with quiet reflection, right?And what about lovemaking?That can be quiet and reflective, too."


Chapter 55