Burn (The Firefighters of Darling Bay Book 2)
Page 13
The Songbird’s Home, Book 3, March 2017
THE BALLARD BROTHERS OF DARLING BAY:
The Bachelor meets The Property Brothers: Love, property, and construction. What could possibly go wrong?
On the Market, Book 1, June 2016
Build it Strong, Book 2, October 2016
Rock the Boat, Book 3, January 2017
STANDALONE NOVELS:
Women and families finding their ways back to what really matters: each other:
The Ones Who Matter Most
Splinters of Light
Pack Up the Moon
CYPRESS HOLLOW ROMANCES 1-5:
Knit-lit with more heat than just wool could ever provide:
How to Knit a Love Song
How to Knit a Heart Back Home
Wishes & Stitches
Cora’s Heart
Fiona’s Flame
Eliza’s Home (Historical Novella)
MEMOIR:
Rachael’s life as seen through the sweaters she’s knitted:
A Life in Stitches
Keep reading for a Sneak Peek!
of the third book in the Firefighters of Darling Bay series, Flame
EXCERPT OF FLAME:
CHAPTER ONE
THE MAN CAME at her fast from the side, out of the shadows. His fist swung toward her jaw but Samantha ducked and caught the blow on her forearm. “No!” she yelled. “Stop!”
The man wheeled, coming back at her again. He roared, driving his fists against her shoulders, slamming her back into the brick wall, knocking the wind out of her.
Samantha took almost a full second to think, to dig inside herself for what she needed. The man was taller, broader, and outweighed her by sixty pounds. He had her pinned against the wall, and she could move nothing but her right leg.
That would be enough.
She kicked her foot left, driving her heel into her assailant’s shin. His response was muffled but clearly displeased.
“No!” she managed to shout again. “No!” Her foot connected again, this time higher. She might have hit his kneecap.
One last time she yelled “Stop! Someone call 911!” The man pulled back his head, as if her voice had hurt his ears. Samantha used the moment to shove her shoulder forward, freeing her right arm from his grip. Without a pause, she raised her fist and pummeled his ear, or where his ear would have been. She propped her foot against the wall and used it to push off from. The man lurched backward, struggling to keep his grip on her upper arms.
With a jerk of her neck, Samantha head-butted him, earning a muffled, “Ooof.”
Both her hands finally free, Samantha flew into motion. She jabbed, punched, kicked and clawed. She was a piston, each pump a blow. She didn’t stop until the man was on the ground, curled onto his side, his arms protecting his head.
She’d done it. She’d won. Samantha's heart beat heavy and fast in her ears. No matter how many times it happened, she was always frightened. That was the point. Fighting past the fear. She turned to face the group behind her.
“This is when you run. Don’t waste your breath calling for help at this point—right now you’re using all your energy to put as much space between you and him. Get to a well-lit space or behind a locked door. Find a phone. Find a safe group of people and ask them to call 911. I call it Down and Out. He goes down, you get out.”
A light laugh rippled around the room, but mostly Samantha heard rapid breathing as women took in quick sips of air. The first scene was always the second-worst part of the class. The worst part, of course, was the first fight each woman took part in.
The best part was the first scene each woman won, but they were still quite a way from learning how to do that.
“I know. This is intense. Take a deep breath.”
The participants, to a woman, looked as if they might fall right over, especially Linda McCracken, a woman who had been considering taking the class ever since her husband died a few months before, and was observing today. She’d looked nervous just walking in the door, but now she had a sheen of perspiration at her hairline and her hands were clenched at her sides.
Samantha said, “I mean all of you. Each one of you. You, too, Linda. Breathe. Right now. In…” A collective inhaled breath was followed by the out-breath. “Good.”
Their eyes were all on Jim Hinds. Of course. Samantha had just beaten the tar out of him and he was still lying on the ground behind her.
“Jim’s an old hand at this,” she reassured them. “And he’s trained for years to take this kind of beating. I’ve only been punching him for two months, but he worked down the coast for one of my trainers for a long time. He can take a lickin’, for sure. Come on, Jim, stand up and strip out of the suit. Let them see who I was actually protecting myself from.”
It was always a nice moment when Jim Hinds took off the padded gear and the women saw that the terrifying assailant, the stuff of nightmares, was actually the well-built librarian without his glasses on.
“Come on, Jim.” Samantha turned. He was still lying exactly where he’d fallen. “Show them what you look like under all that padding.”
But in the big white suit, Jim remained still.
There was another collected gasp. Linda McCracken started to weep.
“Jim?” Samantha leaned over him. “You all right, buddy?”
A strange wheeze was the only answer she got. Samantha dropped to her knees and pulled off Jim's helmet as gently as she could. His skin was pale and sweaty. His eyes met hers and telegraphed what he needed.
Samantha said clearly to Martina Miller, standing in the front row, “Use the pay phone by the front door. Call 911.”
Martina’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“This isn’t part of the training. 911. Now.”
Keep reading Flame now! Click HERE.