"Find her," a voice in my head says.
I grin to myself, an idea taking shape. She's in my hometown for the next three days. Good head is worth a little online investigation to locate one Miss Fiona Cooper. With that, I pivot on my heel in search of my discarded jeans with the iPhone in the pocket.
Siera London’s Thick Cut releases on Amazon, October 9, 2019.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Siera London is a USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary and paranormal romance, romantic suspense, and crime fiction. A native Floridian, her love of coastal towns and bustling cities shines through in her witty and dramatic storytelling.
Currently, she resides in southern California with her husband and a color patch tabby named Frie. Find her at https://www.sieralondonauthor.com
Bonus Chapter- An Endurance Christmas
Chapter One- My True Love Gave to Me
AT FIFTEEN PAST MIDNIGHT, Death came calling. A wily thief who tiptoed through homes in the wee hours of the morning, as a mere shadow slinking around the side of the bed, testing for an opening. Unable to penetrate the barrier the protective force surrounding the unaware sleepers, far stronger than his ability to remove one of the life-forces, deciding instead of taking the breath, to infuse in two others. Huffing, puffing, and swaying the covers which rose and fell with each inhalation, time eased between the layers, pressing down, lifting up and gently depositing that which had not been requested.
Satisfied with the deed, but dismayed at the ability to collect another soul, seeds of discorded had been planted, along with a nightmare which closely resembled the end of a chapter. Seated on the bottom of the bed, the shadow watched the sleeping forms lying side by side, cuddled together for warmth, or comfort, neither which could be ascertained from his vantage point, as the bodies shared a moment of solidarity. The sheer delight of the couple irked the soles of the pointy-toed shoes the shadow enjoyed wearing as he kicked the hope from a soul and dragged the screaming sleeper along to the next life.
No, these two were different. A different the shadow almost respected, but still there was work to be done. Long, cold fingers reached under the covers and touched a toe, sending a deep, intense shiver up the sleeping spine. He smirked as the woman tossed her body into the sleeping partner.
That was all it usually took to ruin a perfect night’s sleep. Sighing, the shadow rose from the base of the bed, to sit in the corner of the room in the chair where the woman usually sat, penning words day after day on a book only a handful of people would bother to read. Empty words inked on a page of thousands of mushed together syllables trying to create the shape of hope. Success, she would believe, rested in the completion of the task versus the art of the craft.
In his estimation, few people understood what real success felt like, let alone how to handle the arrival of such a gift. A smile slid across the thin, brittle lips of the shadow waiting for the true nightmares to begin. Tonight, would be just the first. The others, he would take joy in watching from the corner.
THE RAFT WAS THIN, falling apart in sections, and the last wave nearly tore the bamboo poles apart as raw hands paddled in the water. The salt water sliced through the flesh from the constant struggle against the waves. One more large wave with no signs of land in sight would mean her death if she didn’t manage to hold together her wits although the raft wouldn’t hold together much longer.
The rocking from side to side increased her nausea as she tried to think positive thoughts, praying for a rescue, knowing luck wasn’t a good companion on this trip. How she ended up on the raft was unknown to her, since the origin of the trip eluded muddled thoughts as the darkness of the overhead clouds shadowed any rays of light. Rushing water filled her ears and the sloshing of rain over the dark curls on her head offering no respite as shivers ran down her back. The crackle of thunder in the distance only worsened the impending peril as a burning sensation on her arm made her look down and see the blood.
“Just great,” she mumbled, trying to sit up. Only a small portion of raft remained as a large wave, curled in the air above her head, warning, waving if such a pun was even comprehensible, before coming down hard on the last of her life support. Tossed from the raft, she went under the water, gasping for air, struggling to pull herself up, kicking as hard as she could to reach the surface.
Barely breaking through the heavy surf, she gasped loudly, struggling, her legs futilely treading water. Crying out, she reached upwards, feeling, sobbing, hoping someone − anyone could hear the pleas for help. A cold hand touched her feet, almost pulling her back down under the dark water.
“Abel! Abel!” she screamed, grasping at sea foam sprays for support. The nausea was back. “Abel! Help me!”
Suddenly, a hand held her own, pulling gently, touching her face. The familiar voice called to her. A tug on her arm. A kiss to her cheek. The warmth from his body surrounding her as tender words of encouragement to open her eyes yanked her from death’s door.
“I have you Julie. I have you Baby,” Abel Burney whispered to his wife. This was her third nightmare in less than a month. Vivid nightmares of near-death experiences followed by waves a vomiting, then emotional swings from elation to sadness. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to help his wife, but none of changes she was undergoing felt normal.
“Abel,” she whispered through a hoarse voice. “I’m sorry to have woke you again. Honestly, I don’t know what is going on.”
“In the morning, we need to make you an appointment with the doctor, to find out what is causing these nightmares, mood swings and vomiting,” he offered, rubbing her back.
“Okay,” she said trying to settle down. She couldn’t. The taste of salt filled her mouth as if she’d actually been in the ocean. The hand of Death on her feet sent a chill through her body that didn’t seem to go away. “I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow.”
“Good. Good. Do you need water, some juice, or anything?” Abel asked.
“Water would help, maybe a saltine to settle my stomach,” Julie said, feeling the coldness settle in.
“Sure thing,” Abel said, sliding out of the bed.
Julie sat up. The coldness she felt appeared to manifest from the corner of the room where she often sat and wrote. A large green oversized chair, perfect for her petite frame with an attached desktop by the window was her second favorite place to write. It was April and much of the cold weather had begun to leave Endurance and the race season would be starting soon. However, the uneasiness of the darkness in the corner took her back to her childhood. Her mother often cautioned her that when she felt that the coldness to warn it away in the name of the Lord.
She could hear Abel’s footsteps returning and just to play it safe, she spoke to the corner. “You have no power here,” she said to the chair.
“Julie, are you talking to me?” Abel asked.
Adjusting herself, she smiled at him. “No, just something my Mama used to say to me when I was little,” she said, thanking him for the drink.
“Ms. Liza has a saying for almost everything,” he said of his mother-in-law. “What does she have to say about nightmares?”
Julie sipped at the water, nibbling on a corner of the cracker praying neither would reverse their course down her esophagus.
“My Mom always said that when you had a nightmare and felt the coldness in a room, that Death was sitting close by waiting on your next move,” Julie said, trying to laugh it off. “Mama would say, you have to let Mr. Death know he has no power here and to dismiss him before he gets too comfortable and comes a calling every other night, disturbing your sleep.”
“I hope that’s not the case, because he’s been a calling one time too damned many,” Abel said, looking at the corner, yelling in his ‘I’m the white guy in charge’ voice. “You have no power here!”
Julie touched his chest, proud that he wanted to try; encouraged that he didn’t think she was crazy and wanted to ship her off to the looney house. Yet she knew something was wrong in her body
. Lately, nothing had felt right nor did anything taste the same. Her mind went towards the worse. The C-word loomed in the back of her mind but she didn’t plan to speak it into existence.
“It’s okay Abel,” she offered. “I’m going to eat the cracker and drink a bit of the water and see if we can manage to get back to sleep.”
“Julie...,” he started to say more but changed his mind. Instead, he waited for his wife to settle in the bed, cuddling next to him. His arm wrapped around her small frame, and his face rested in her neck. “I was thinking, that this year, it will be our second Christmas together and maybe, we could do a holiday ball at the Golf Course. You know, like those grand affairs organizations would throw when you worked at a corporate office.”
“Abel, that’s a great idea,” she replied, enjoying the warmth of his body. The coldness had subsided as well as the roiling of her tummy. “Maybe do a holiday theme like the 12 Days of Christmas or similar.”
“I like that idea,” he said, yawning. “On the first day, maybe we can do an hourly thing, making one in the afternoon be the first hour of the gift my true love gave to me.”
Julie didn’t respond. She was a fast asleep. The exhaustion from the weird nightmares of late had messed with her sleep patterns and she needed to get as many hours in as she could. Tomorrow she would see the doctor and get some answers.
JULIE SAT IN HER CAR, parked in front of the medical offices of Dr. Chadwick Winter. Although he was a pediatrician, in the past year he innovated his offices by adding a Doc in Box service, staffing it with a Nurse Practitioner to service the adults in Endurance. The logic was sound considering most of the people who lived in the sleepy little hamlet were self employed and fitness enthusiasts. Most of the medical care required consisted of bruises and sprains which the nurse handled with efficiency.
However, as much as Julie loved her new home town, she admired the closeness of the community, but much of it bordered on just plain ole nosey people. If there was a major health concern, the last thing she needed was the mail man telling Ethel Parks that he delivered cancer medication to Nurse Felicia. Ethel in turn would head to The Cupcakery, informing anyone within earshot that a resident of Endurance had “the cancer.” It would take less than a week for everyone in town to figure out it was Julie, Abel’s wife.
She could hear them now, explaining her awkward behaviors and inability to dress herself with matching shoes was related to her predicament with the cancer. No, she was not going to see Nurse Felicia, but instead, she backed up her sporty little sedan, and headed out of town, taking Saratoga Springs Road to the bypass towards Sacramento. She punched in the number of her GYN, convincing the office she was having a bit of irregularity and wedged herself into a morning appointment. Even if the issue was woman related, Dr. Fille would recommend an oncologist in Sacramento and no one in Endurance would be the wiser.
Confident in her choice, she drove, mind clearer than it had at the start of her morning to the big city doctor’s office to deal with whatever blow life was about to hand to her in spades. The uneasiness in her soul manifested itself in late night dreams which only created more angst in a body which was protesting loudly to sleep deprivation and constant vomiting. Today she would get answers to her folly of discontentment.
An hour later the answer she received wasn’t the answer she was expecting. The world she loved, balled up into a large fist and came crashing around Julie as she held the slip of paper in between shaking fingers wondering what in the world her husband was going to say about this blow to their lives. Everything was going to change and all she could do was cry. Loud sobs of disbelief at the results of the quick test that determined her fate hung limply in her hand.
“Mrs. Burney, I know you need a moment to process these results, but with careful monitoring, everything will be just fine,” Dr. Fille offered. “You can enjoy a well-rounded life.”
“No, you don’t understand, this just can’t be possible,” Julie said, swatting at the tears running down her cheeks. “How? I mean... Abel is not going to believe this and neither can I.”
“Good grief, it’s not a death sentence Mrs. Burney,” Dr. Fille replied. “You’re not going to die, you’re just pregnant.”
“Just pregnant! Just pregnant! My husband had a vasectomy years ago. He doesn’t want any more children and I don’t any at all,” Julie exclaimed. “How the hell did this happen?”
Amused, Dr. Fille touched Julie’s hand. “When a man inserts his penis...”
“Oh hush!” Julie said. “Dear Lord...”
Her words were halted as the room went dark, her head started to spin and she passed out in the doctor’s office. That was just the start of a Monday that would change the entire week and the remainder of her life. At 38 years old, Julie Kraztner Burney was pregnant.
Abel Burney was going to have a fit.
- Fin -
Our foundation couple gets a full story.
All the fun, a Christmas surprise and more... with Julie and Abel.
UBL: https://books2read.com/u/bxzRpk
Amz: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07XWPV891
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