Hi everyone! Hope your summer is going well. So far, mine has been wonderful and so packed with fun it’s hard to get writing time.That said, I’ve been at the beach this week for a family reunion.
***A Note: Thank you, Google Blog Authors who’ve left comments for me here. I’m sorry that I haven’t lbeen able to reciprocate. Your platform doesn’t recognize me. (I have a google account and an inanactive google blog). Suggestions welcome.
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Today, I’m continuiing last week’s scene from my latest Smoke, Inc. title, PHATT Farm. (Creative punctuation to make this fit.)
Gerta heard and obeyed, dragging the stool back up the slope to stand guard over me where I lay waiting in a tangle of table and pain for someone to call the police.
The impact of the bullets had knocked the wind out of me, and possibly cracked a rib or two; I didn’t know how badly I was hurt, but I could barely breathe.
What if I hadn’t warn body armor to sweat–what if he’d aimed at my head? My already constricted breath froze in my lungs at that thought and to quell my panic, I concentrated on the perp’s methodology instead of my close encounter with death.
He must have used a silencer to keep things quiet. I hadn’t been an unlucky casualty of a nutcase out randomly whacking people; he’d been after me–the attack had been premeditated.
Nobody inside paid any attention to the overturned table and I might have remained unnoticed except for Gerta’s barking.
“I don’t feel well,” I think I said after help appeared and I managed to assess my damage.
Spilled coffee, had seeped into my pantleg, cream cheese from my croissant decorated my knee, and my Kevlar vest had two deep dents an inch apart in the area covering my heart.
The good news—I had an excuse for skipping my sister’s bachelorette party; the bad news—someone wanted me dead.
BLURB: FBI agent Mackenzie Sierra Scott grimly anticipates six weeks of mindless boredom as she and her dog travel to Phatt Farm. Not realizing the full extent of her aversion toward dieting, her handler has stashed her at an off-the-grid weight loss center. Until she testifies at the trial of a killer, she’ll be in-hiding, one health-nut among many.
But perhaps a country vacation is just what she needs. Upon meeting resident farmer, Eazy Phatt, Mack thinks of many ways they can burn calories together. And from his immediate attention, she knows he feels the attraction too. When Eazy invites her to help him with farm work as an alternative to a daily regime of yoga and pushups, she accepts, picturing hours of gratuitous sex.
Hot body aside, there’s nothing easy about Eazy. Instead of becoming her lover, he turns Mack into a farmhand, keeping her busy driving tractor, stacking hay, picking apples, shucking corn, and somewhere along the way, falling in love. And that all happens before the shooting starts.
Thanks for stopping by~
Oh my gosh! Excitement from the first word. You are tops, Gem. Don’t sleep in the subway. Enjoy your life, the beach and your exceptional writing.
Great snippet, full of questions and tension!
Lucky she had the body armor on! But still, more than enough physical and emotional trauma…great snippet.
That is an extreme way of getting out of a bachelorette party. Really enjoying this story so far.
Whew, good thing she was wearing the vest. Love the last line!
Love her attitude, although I think I’d rather go to the bachelorette party than be shot! Great snippet! Can’t wait for more!
Wonderful snippet. Sounds like a great story.
That last line is a clincher!! Nice job.
I would say cracked ribs are a sign that you have more than a little hurt haha
Ouch. Undignified, for sure! But, she gets to live, and that’s something.
I am reading this right now. Quite the page-turner!