I’m a
summer person. Every year, right after the Christmas celebrations, I start
looking forward to the end of winter and the start of spring. It’s much nicer
to be outside when it’s warm and the first leaves begin to unfold. I enjoy
working in my garden, clearing away the remains of winter, raking the dead
leaves, and watching nature come alive again.
Then comes
the best time. When it’s warmer, you can take longer rides through the woods.
There are fewer insects, so they won't bother you or the horse. I enjoy the
long daylight and warmth during summer. I don’t mind the heat either. You can
relax in the sun, read a good book, or ride your bike along the river. It’s a
great time!
I dread the
end of August, when the nights grow cold and the days are no longer warm. My
horse doesn't mind though — he’s got fur! LOL! I get the blues in September,
knowing that summer is over and fall will bring gusty winds, rain, and fewer
hours of sunshine. It’s time to harvest the last apples in my garden and
prepare for winter. The outlook is never pretty: cold days and cold nights. I
leave for work in the dark and return home after dark. It's a good time to stay
home, write, or read a good book to distract myself from the nasty outside
world.
Most of my
books were written during the darker half of the year. Here, I present an
excerpt from the final installment of my Bodyguard series featuring Jazmin and
Ethan.
In this
final adventure, Jazmin and Ethan face different fates, separated from each
other. They must both solve the riddles that circumstances throw at them, and
neither knows how the other is faring. While Ethan protects the Secretary of
State, Jazmin must partner with a wounded CIA agent who escorts her from a
bombing site to a safe house. There, she has to take care of him.
A
Bodyguard in Bolivia
Excerpt
Marcus
looked at her with pain in his eyes. He hadn’t changed his position on the rug
in the bathroom and looked even paler than before.
She knelt
beside him. “Hey, welcome back.”
“Did you
run some knives through my body?”
“Yes, but only
blunt ones. How do you feel?”
“Shitty.
Like fucked and stepped on by some heavyweight vin-Diesel-type.” He swallowed.
Briefly, a smile broke through as he looked at the sweatpants and T-shirt she
had borrowed from his cupboard. “Nice wardrobe. It appears we’ve got the same
outfitter.”
“Your blood
ruined my Gucci two-piece. Can you get up?”
“It’s nice
and warm here.” He begged with his eyes. “I always wanted to spend time on a
rug. I’ve never done that before.”
In spite of
her worries, Jazmin was touched. “I’ll help you up. It’s better for you to lie
in a bed than on the floor, don’t you think? Come on,” she insisted when he
didn’t move. “You made it this far. You’ll make the three steps to the bedroom,
too.” She took away the blanket.
Marcus
gasped when he tried to push off the ground one-handed. “Fuck! That’s not gonna
work.”
“I said I’d
help. God, you’re one stubborn mule.” Jazmin grabbed his upper arm. “Get on
your knees, then slowly onto your feet. I’ll steady you.”
“That
hurts, too.”
“You have a
cut on your thigh. I stitched you up.”
“And took
away my pants, too? That’s what I call thorough.”
“Shut up
and move!”
Swearing
under his breath, Marcus got to his feet, his head hanging, and panted like a
runner. He leant heavily on her, but shuffled into the bedroom, biting his lips.
“Home, sweet home.”
“Have you
always been a sarcastic idiot?” Jazmin asked.
He sat on
the bed and she arranged the pillows for him to lean against. When he strained
to inch backward, she lifted his legs on the mattress, then glanced at his face
and saw his grin.
“I’ve been
an idiot until the day of my promotion to sarcastic idiot. But thanks for the
praise.”
Jazmin
lowered her chin, smiling in spite of the situation. She felt caught in an
absurd scene from a Jim Jarmusch movie, where tragic and comedy walked side by
side.
“It’s a
good sign you aren’t slapping my idiotic face again.”
Jazmin
shook her head. “I didn’t want you to collapse.”
“Not so
soon. Anyway.” Marcus touched her hand gently, and she felt him shiver. “Of all
the deep-in-shit things that happened today—I can’t say how happy I am you
helped me out.”
“You saved
my life.” Her voice was small, and the terror of the tragedy hit her with might
and main. “My life, but…” She turned away and wept, her face hidden behind her
hands and shoulders heaving.
“Jazmin…”
“I…I’ll get
you the blanket.” She fled the room, only to stop in the corridor, blind with
tears and shaken by fear. She knew nothing about the incidents at the
conference building, nothing about the fate of the others, and nothing about
the man in the bedroom. In all the tragedy of the day, he could be the one
pulling the strings behind the bombing.
·
*
* *
It was an editor’s
choice book in the month of its release
http://www.extasybooks.com/editors-choice/?utm_source=MadMimi&utm_medium=email&utm_content=Great+deals%2C+Giveaways+and+more%21&utm_campaign=20180721_m146351109_New+releases+from+Zenina+Masters%2C+Charlie+Richards%2C+Giveaways+and+MORE%21&utm_term=eXtasy+Books+Editor_27s+Choice+Books_21
visit my
website www.annraina.com
I’m on
Instagram ann_raina_author
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