Excerpt of BALD-FACED LIAR by Victoria Helen Stone
There was another round of mai tais as Mike ate, but we didn’t really have a choice once Rosco started singing, did we? It was either more alcohol or a retreat to my lair.
In the end we did both.
I didn’t mean for Mike to spend the whole night, and I’m regretting it now as I carefully unwind my limbs from his and attempt to ooze out of bed like a snail. We walked for almost an hour after dinner as I showed him all the local secrets and pointed out the best spots for food, shopping, and drinks.
When we slowed to a halt in front of my place, it was only natural to invite him inside. Only natural to open a bottle of wine. Only natural to make out like a pair of horny teenagers on the couch, then fall into a deep sleep in my bed after sex that was damn impressive for a first time. Not perfect, but I had a great orgasm, and that’s never guaranteed, is it? Sometimes it’s not even hinted at.
All in all it was quite a treat, but now I just want Mike gone so I can prepare for my meeting. I stare down at his one visible arm and his mussed hair as I pull on a sweater and leggings against the morning chill.
He’s appealingly furry in a lumberjack kind of way, but I was wrong. Despite his pale skin and flannel shirt, he’s not from Alaska. He’s from Tacoma, Washington. But I went on an Alaskan cruise once, and the coastlines look the same to me, so I’ll call that a good guess.
Should I open the curtains? Smooth a finger over his adorable puppy eyebrows? Make coffee and gently bring him a cup like the sweetest little one-night stand he’s ever met? No, that’s not my style.
When I was young, if I stared hard enough from the foot of my parents’ bed, my mom would jerk awake in a panic to ask what was wrong. I realize now that this was just some animal awareness tickling at my mother’s brain, but I thought it was proof I truly was touched by demons, just as people said. Regardless, my stare isn’t working on Mike; his breathing remains deep and slow. He’s not the motherly type, I guess.
A car door slams nearby, and I hurry to the window to look out with a sad sigh. Julia and Jamie are loading up their SUV to hit the road, and now I’ll never learn their secret. “Crap,” I whisper as I watch her shift little Sheila in her arms. The unwieldy pink helmet rests awkwardly against Julia’s clavicle, but she gazes down at her baby’s face with sweet wonder, and I have a sudden, fierce hope that these crazy kids make it.
Speaking of crazy kids, I still have the drama upstairs to look forward to, so that’s something. If they argued last night, I was too distracted by Mike to notice.
“Hey,” he croaks behind me, his voice a weary rumble. “Good morning.”
“Oh, heyyy.” I swing around to see his furry chest half-exposed. His eyes are narrowed against the light, but he’s smiling. “I’m glad you’re up! I’ve got to leave for a meeting in an hour, so I was about to slide you off the bed and out the door. But it’ll be much easier with you awake.”
His laugh is genuine and unoffended. “Okay, got it. No breakfast in bed.”
“Not a chance, mister.” But when he sits up and exposes his whole naked chest, I’m tempted to at least grace him with a quickie.
No. I shake my head and back out of the room, easing myself farther from temptation. We had a great night, but it’s time for him to disappear into his real life and leave me to my fake one. “I’ll let you get dressed.”
I use the bathroom, wash my hands, and then gesture him in when he emerges fully clothed from my bedroom, carrying his shoes. I’ll start coffee after he leaves so we won’t have to navigate that exchange. By the time he joins me in the living room, I’ve got the blinds open and the heater turned up to seventy.
“Can I get your number?” he asks. He already has his phone out, so I have a moment to try for the perfect answer while he’s staring at it. Do I want to hook up again before he leaves? I’m not sure, so I try for lightness.
“Planning to call the next time you’re in town?”
“Ha! Yes. But I thought maybe I’d call about dinner in a few days after I get settled in.” He glances up, and his smile drops at my expression. “Unless you don’t want to?”
Settled in? My neck prickles. “Wait. How long are you staying?”
“At least six months. Maybe more.”
“Six months?” I don’t mean to shout the words, I swear. But this is not what I signed up for. “You said you were heading to Cambria next week!”
“Yes, but just for two days. Santa Cruz will be my home base through this whole project.”
My jaw muscles give up the ghost, and I stare at him like an idiot for quite a few seconds before I manage to close my mouth with an audible gulp. My skin crawls with discomfort, like someone just lifted a rock and found me without my shell. Six months.
“Uh,” I manage.
Mike is astute enough to realize things have taken a turn. I watch his face close down, but not before I glimpse disappointment. “Hey, no pressure. I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” I say dumbly, my mind working back through what I’ve told him. Beth, accountant, thirty-nine. Nothing too disastrous. Not many neighbors know I’m a nurse, and Liz and Beth are both nicknames. But I don’t like people fucking up my different compartments. Why didn’t I just tell him my name was Liz?
What a disaster. I watch impatiently as he ties his trail shoes, trying not to glare as I remember the way he talked about heading to Cambria next week. He’d implied he was going to disappear into the fog of the coastline like a misty sex dream, hadn’t he? What a betrayal.
“Thanks, Mike,” I say breezily before he even straightens.
He frowns at that, like it’s weird that I thanked him. Fine. Get out if you want to have a bad attitude about good manners.
But he takes the hint, at least, and heads immediately for the front door, adding a polite “Have a good meeting” as I rush forward to twist open both locks and throw the door wide.
“Thanks!” I close the door behind him as soon as he’s through it, and that’s that. Hopefully.
“Everything’s fine,” I murmur as I rush to the kitchen to start the coffee. “No big deal.” Forty minutes later, I’m in my car, sporting clean hair, a pair of non-Lycra pants, and my favorite travel mug filled with perfectly creamed and sugared coffee.
Time for some good news to wash away this bad morning.
Text copyright © 2025 by Victoria Helen Stone

Living a lie becomes a matter of life and death for a woman hiding from her past in a novel of mounting psychological suspense by the bestselling author of Jane Doe and The Hook.
Traveling nurse Elizabeth May has a promising new home in Santa Cruz. And another new identity. It’s a pattern of reinvention for a woman escaping a traumatic childhood—and hiding from the decades of notoriety and destruction that followed. Invisibility has kept Elizabeth safe. Until now. After all these years, someone sees her for who she is.
Threat by threat, a vengeful stalker is dismantling Elizabeth’s carefully constructed lifetime of lies. And no one in her temporary circle can be trusted. Not her fleeting new love interest. Not the supportive friend she knows only from online forums. And certainly not the police. They’ve never been there for her.
As dread sharpens to fear, Elizabeth soon discovers something about her past that even she didn’t know. The revelation could finally set her on a path of healing and redemption. Or, now alone in the dark, it could be Elizabeth’s worst nightmare.
Thriller Psychological | Suspense [Lake Union Publishing, On Sale: June 1, 2025, Trade Paperback / e-Book , ISBN: 9781662514616 / ]
Wall Street Journal bestselling writer Victoria Helen Stone, author of the runaway hit Jane Doe, pens critically acclaimed novels of dark intrigue and emotional suspense.
She writes in her home office in the Wasatch Mountains of Utah, far from her origins in the flattest plains of Minnesota, Texas, and Oklahoma. She enjoys summer trail hikes in the mountains almost as much as she enjoys staying inside by the fire during winter. Victoria is passionate about dessert, true crime, and her terror of mosquitoes, which have targeted her in a diabolical conspiracy to hunt her down no matter the season.
Bald-Faced Liar is her tenth suspense.
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