Raising my chin, I limped toward the back of the cabin and noticed two doors.
After I knocked on the door to my left, there was no response. Slowly, I turned the handle and pushed. A clean, empty bathroom was inside. One toilet, pedestal sink, mirror cabinet, and a white claw foot tub. The décor: wood.
Opening the cabinet, it was empty. Not even a forgotten toothpick was left behind. The reality that the owner wasn’t a minimalist but nowhere to be found was becoming heart crushingly clear.
Maybe the other room had something. Anything to let me know a person was here, recently. But as I left the bathroom and opened the other room reality sunk in. This small bedroom with a bed frame, double mattress, dresser, and no sheets or clothing to be found, was a bitter slap in the face.
I was alone.
That’s okay. It’s a cabin. I had shelter from the elements. There should be something here to keep me warm. Maybe discarded wood I could throw in the stove for heat.
I made my way further into the cabin and discovered a back door. The floor underneath me creaked as I unlocked and pulled the door open. I stiffened when I heard the terrifying cries of the wild animals again.
Slamming it shut, I twisted every bolt and lock on the door. In case all five of them failed I grabbed a chair from the dining area up front and ran back to wedge under the doorknob. The wood can wait for later.
The chilled air might do me good. My mother paid a lot of money last year for the Crisp Air Deluxe because her spiritual healer told her that she would find tranquility with cold air. Maybe I would find peace with it too.
I was secure in this cabin, had a mattress to sleep on, and to keep warm I could huddle up into my coat. What more did a woman need?
My stomach rumbled. Food. I needed food.
I hadn’t eaten since early this morning. Perhaps that small kitchenette had something that could see me through the night.
Taking a deep breath, I made my way toward the front to the small kitchen — five cabinets. I opened every one. Nothing.
“Oh God, I’m going to die here.”
My breathing picked up. It felt like I was losing oxygen despite my rapid breath.
I was an idiot. Who runs from their wedding during the middle of winter in the mountains of Maine in a wedding dress?
“Why didn’t I take Bea up on her offer last night? I could be warm and in Rio right now. I’ll never see my loving and slightly crazy sister again!”
Because I was in love. Stupid, no good, overrated, love!
I spit on the floor and instantly regretted it. This wasn’t my home. How barbaric to invade a residence and spit. What came over me? Just last week I gave the stink eye to my cousin for adding milk to her teacup before pouring in her tea. I was ashamed of my actions then, but now I was horrified about how I was treating the stranger's home.
It was to be the happiest day of my life. Instead, the day had fevered my brain and turned me into an uncouth beast. I fell to my knees and didn’t even care about the stabbing pain in my leg. Monsters were supposed to live in agony. I might as well get used to it.
Hungry, cold and so very alone I cried. “This is officially the worst day of my life.”
Beating out the day, five years ago, when I was twenty-three and for some reason, Sarah, the chef, was not in the kitchen. I was hungry, so I found a round piece of food on the counter. I figured it was fruit despite the funny smell and after peeling it I took a bite. That was the day I learned what an onion looked like.
Wiping the tears, I was surprised there were any. I figured I was too dehydrated to produce them.
“I could melt the snow outside to drink if I could only get outside without being attacked.”
I leaned my head against the edge of the open cabinet and saw a glimmer out of the corner of my eye. Turning, I reached inside and felt something hard. Using the minuscule amount of energy, I had left from my starved body, I pulled it out.
A can of red beans.
“I’ve seen movies of old-timey people eating beans from a can.”
Hope burst from my chest as I gripped the metal in my fingers. This didn’t have splinters, so I kissed it as if it was my high school crush, Jerad, now a New York runway model.
Once my lips were thoroughly bruised and cold, I wondered, “How do I open it?”
I looked for a button or tab, but there was nothing but a hard lip that didn’t peel back — a significant problem. I had food in my hand, and I couldn’t get it in my mouth because hard metal was in the way.
Maybe if I find a knife, I can stab it open? I got up and searched. Thankfully, I found some weird tool that had gears and a knob. Having no idea how to use the thing, I did notice a sharp curved tip.
I commenced stabbing. But no matter how hard or at what angle I hit the lid, nothing happened to the can which was forged in hell.
I screamed and gave into my new barbaric ways by throwing in some curse words. That’s when I lost it. You’d think everything leading up to this moment would cause me to go insane. But I was raised not to have a meltdown unless there was good Bourbon to drink, quality crystal to throw and to make sure the bed was covered in Egyptian cotton sheets for when I needed to roll myself into a cocoon and cry myself to sleep.
There wouldn’t be any soft as a butterfly’s wing cocoon for me tonight. I’ll have to huddle in a ball and cover myself in a pink parka.
I beat on that can with the metal stabbing tool until I was sweating. When it was thoroughly dented, I moved to that taunting metal lip. After hitting it, I moved my hand back and noticed the can came with me.
Dangling the can in front of me I gasped. The curved tip punctured a hole at the edge. All I had to do was poke several dozen more holes, and then I could eat!
I worked that tool better than Derek worked his dick to a Porsche commercial. The guy loved cars.
After a minute I was able to pull the top off.
“Yes! I won’t die tonight.”
Not even bothering to look for cutlery I drove my fingers into the squishy beans and began shoveling them into my mouth. I didn’t know if it was the dehydration and lack of food talking, but these tasted pretty good.
I engulfed half the beans when the door flung open. A huge man stood in the doorway. He had a rifle in one hand and a leash to a snarling dog in the other.
Usually, I wouldn’t judge someone on their appearance as my mother taught me that was bad manners, but he looked fierce and scary, and like every villain in every cartoon movie I saw growing up.
I threw the can at him to defend myself as he stepped forward. He didn’t need to duck because I had poor aim and it hit the ground about a foot in front of him. Beans splattered and the dog rushed forward lapping it up.
He pointed at me and yelled, “I’m going to—”
That’s all I heard because I blacked out. In a way, it was a blessing. I wouldn’t be conscious of my death — Goodbye world. I had fun, except for my wedding day. Maybe Derrek would feel sleazy for cheating on me now that I’m dead.
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NOTE TO READER
THANK YOU for taking the time to read my story about Heidi and Max. It would mean the world to me if you let me know how much you liked the story by leaving a review on your favorite retailer, Goodreads, BookBub, and I’d be happy to hear from you directly via email or message me on my Author Facebook page. I LOVE hearing from readers!
If you really enjoy my books and wish to have a chance to read them before they are even published, consider becoming one of my Always ARCsters. Learn more HERE.
Love,
Elizabeth Lynx
BEHIND THE SCENES
THIS IS THE PART OF the book where I tell you little factoids about different parts of the story and/or why I wrote the book. As I write, I throw in things that have happened to me, to people I know, or stuff I witnessed in life. Some of it is crazy and some is dorky, but that’s me – crazy and dorky.
Let’s get started!
Dirty Secret was o
riginally called Dirty Hands. I wrote a short story staring Heidi and Max and entered it into a short story contest. It didn’t win but it did become a finalist. Which was fine with me anyway as I wanted to turn it into a longer story.
I tested the waters with my newsletter readers. They received a new chapter with each newsletter. I do that sometimes. Send them little things I write. Some of the stories turn into something more, Dirty Hands/Dirty Secret. While others stay a short newsletter read. If you want access to my short stories, make sure you sign up for my newsletter HERE.
The neighborhood where Heidi and Max live is where my in-laws used to live. In fact, my husband and I got married in their old townhouse in that neighborhood. The ice cream shop, though not seen in the book, where Max’s dad takes the kids, is an ice cream place I went to when visiting my in-laws.
The inspiration for Max’s daughter is after my oldest son. Both my boys have ADHD and as an author, I write what I know. When Max gets a call from his daughter’s school, that was me getting almost a daily call from my eldest’s school when he was kindergarten. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that I use whatever I am going through at the time or have gone through recently, in my stories. Just know that if there is a kid in a book that I wrote, it’s modelled after my own.
Oh, and the character of Nadyia Goldman is inspired by Nadyia Hussain (yeah, I’m not good at disguising the name, lol.). She was the winner of the 2015 Great British Bake Off and I am in love with everything she bakes. I decided she’s going to get her own book. It’s going to be book three in the Lost and Found series that’s coming out this year. It will be titled Hot Dish, so look for it in the summer of 2019!
That’s it for Behind the Scenes. I do hope you enjoyed Heidi & Max’s little story. If you want to read about some of the characters mentioned in this book here is a list of books where they are or will be located:
The notorious domestic terrorist Emma Hawthorne – One Wild Ride.
What did happen to the Attorney General Fitzwilliam brother and nephew that disappeared? – Find out in the nest release, Cabin Fever.
As I mentioned above, Nadyia Goldman – in the summer 2019 release of Hot Dish.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ELIZABETH LYNX WAS a printer. She was also a graphic designer, photographer, actress, comedic improviser, merchandiser, and now adding author to that extensive list of professions.
She has written an erotic romance called Her Night with Him. Since she spent a lot of time training and moved halfway across the country to pursue comedy (much to her husband’s chagrin) only to change her mind and take up writing, Elizabeth decided to write a romantic comedy series called Cake Love.
Find out more about Elizabeth on her website: www.elizabeth-lynx.com
Follow Elizabeth Lynx:
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STORIES by ELIZABETH LYNX
New Releases
Dirty Secret
Happy New You
Upcoming Release
Cabin Fever, releases March 2019, standalone, book 1 Lost & Found series
Living Hell, releases May 2019, standalone, book 2 Lost & Found series
Hot Dish, releases August 2019, standalone, book 3 Lost & Found series
Cold Burn, releases October 2019, standalone, book 4 Lost & Found series
Cake Love Series - standalone
Rules of Payne, book 1, standalone
The Attraction File, book 2, standalone
One Wild Ride, book 3, standalone
The Spy Ring, book 4, standalone
Cake Love: Boxed Set, Books 1-4
Him Her Them Series
Her Night with Him
GET LATEST ALERTS, releases, sales, and exclusive stories by signing up for Elizabeth Lynx’s newsletter. READ the inspiration for my upcoming book Dirty Secret, called Dirty Hands (it was a finalist in a short story contest) INSTANTLY ⇨ http://bit.ly/NwsltrDHinspire
THANK YOU
I JUST WANT TO THANK all the readers for taking time to read about Heidi & Max. I loved bringing them to life and wanted to share them with everyone.
Thanks to my reader group, SWIM Meet. You all rock! I have so much fun you and look forward to sharing with you everything I write.
To my ARCsters. You all are amazing and patient and super doper nice! I held off for so long with this group because I was scared no one would want to join. You all came running when I put out the call and I was overwhelmed with all the love you’ve shown.
To my RomCom ladies. I have learned so much from all of you. Honestly, until I got together with you ladies, I was at my breaking point. But then you all were so nice and shared your worlds with me. It has been an inspiration to write with you and gab and just be silly.
To Silvia and Marla, you two take my dumpster fire and turn it into gold. I don’t think I could have grown as an author without you two ladies having patience and encouraging me to keep going.
To my parents. This past year has been rough. But understand I love you and will only ever want the best for you. You both told me I could do what I wanted if I just put my mind to it and here I am, a romance writer. Every parent’s dream, to have their kid grow up to write about sex, lol.
To my husband and kids. Thank you so much for your patience, especially this past year, and all your help. All my boys, including my husband, put a smile on my face every day. I love you all so much.
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Dirty Secret Page 14
