The gum-smacking teen pointed a broom handle at her as if she were under fire, and the bored clerk talked animatedly into the phone, waving her hands as she said something Mara couldn’t make out from her side of the thick-paned door.
She motioned to her bag and tried to shout above the racket of the beepers. “I’m with Cannon Security,” she said, but the teenager kept wielding the broom handle at her like it was a machete. “I’m on a security check,” she said, trying again, but neither of the employees seemed able to hear her. Maybe the two of them didn’t want to hear her.
Damn it. She checked her watch. She needed to be at the bed and breakfast in twenty minutes, and she didn’t see that happening. Crap, crap, crap. She never missed Zeke’s postnap snack. Never.
A crowd gathered behind the check stand, mostly middle-aged women wearing jeans and T-shirts and probably boots, just like their husbands would. A few had small children with them and pushed the kids behind their carts as if Mara might be dangerous. “Turn off the buzzers,” she yelled, putting her hands over her ears.
The checker hung up the phone and came over to the glass. She said something that sounded peculiarly like “Criminals deserve discomfort” before backing away to the safety of her check stand. As if Mara was about to draw a gun or something.
“Now I know what the goldfish at the office feels like,” she muttered, still holding her hands over her ears. She pushed one foot against the inner and outer doors, but neither budged.
Finally the beepers stopped and everything quieted. Mara took her hands from her ears and tried the doors again. They didn’t budge. She repeated her call through the thick glass.
“I’m here on a security check. I need to speak with Michael Mallard.” The clerk shot a glance behind her toward an area marked Employees Only. No one appeared. The crowd began to disperse, lessening the goldfish effect.
She tugged at her earlobe when a low siren began to wail. Was this some kind of second-tier warning system? The clerk crossed her arms over her chest as if in triumph. The wailing became louder, and it wasn’t coming from inside the store. Mara pressed her face against the outer door, looking left and then right.
“No, no, no. Please, no.”
The siren grew louder, and a few cars passing on the street pulled to the side.
“Let it be a fire. Let it be a fire.”
But it wasn’t a red fire truck that entered the parking lot. It was a big black SUV with Wall County Sheriff plastered along its side. She was definitely not making it to the B and B for snack time.
As the SUV came to a stop, she could make out the driver, a large man with brown hair and big aviator sunglasses over his eyes—eyes she knew would be the color of molten chocolate. This man had been interrupting her dreams since she’d hit puberty and began to figure out why male and female body parts were made so deliciously dissimilar.
“Crap, crappity crap.”
Rebel in a Small Town releases July 1 - but don't worry, you can pre-order now and it will auto-download at midnight on the first!
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Blurb for Rebel in a Small Town:
He's not giving up his
family without a fight
James Calhoun has never been able to resist Mara Tyler, or
her knack for mischief. Her reputation as a reckless teenager drove Mara from
their hometown. So Slippery Rock is the last place James ever expected to see
her, and Mara's timing couldn't be worse. With the upcoming election for
sheriff, she threatens the squeaky-clean image James needs to win. Because Mara
has brought with her the result of their steamy affair: his two-year-old son,
Zeke. After the initial shock, James is determined to have both his family and
career. He just needs to convince Mara that her home is where it's always been.
With him.
You can find out more the book and Kristina on her website, and feel free to
1 comment:
nice excerpt
congratulations, in advance, of your new release!
denise
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