Carly Garner’s cheating fiancΓ© sends her life into a downward spiral but refuses to let her go arousing a secret buried deep inside her.
Can Boone help her escape the man determined to hold her captive and rob her of her true heritage? Will she be able to trust another man?
**Read as a standalone, but the main character also makes an appearance in Dreams Do Come True**
Boone shot to his feet. “Try not to move, ma’am.”
“Where am I? Who are you, and why am I tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey?”
He gasped at the forceful questions being hurled in his direction, leaving a startled, what do I do now expression etched on his face. “Take it easy, now, Carly. You don’t want to re-injure those bones.” The man’s hand circled her wrist with a soft pressure.
“Don’t touch me!” She jerked from his grasp, slapping at his hand, and grabbing a fistful of the sheet. She pulled hard, tugging it close under her chin, her protruding nails slicing four uniform gashes through the fabric.
“How do you know my name?” Her furious expression freezing on her face, her lips forming an O-shape as she lifted the sheet, taking a peek underneath, and jerking her attention back to him. “Where. The hell. Are my clothes . . .? Who undressed me? Are you going to tell me who you are and why I’m here?” More rapid-fire questions blasted in the man’s direction.
“Uh, easy. Easy. Yes. Yes, I am, but one question at a time.” He blew out a breath and swiped a hand over his face. “Okay, uh, my name is Boone Weaver. Your car left the highway yesterday and crashed through the woods down by the creek here on my place. I pulled you out and brought you here to fix up your injuries.” He drew in another breath and continued in a flustered manner. “Your arm was . . . is broken in three places. Your leg had . . . has one bad break and there was a nasty gash on your forehead.” He pointed out each injured area of her body as he stumbled about with his explanation.
She closed her eyes. His words, triggering memories from yesterday’s events, caused them to flood back to her. “The crash. My head. There was blood. I couldn’t move my left side. My arm and leg hurt like crazy.” She raised her right hand, lightly touching her head to examine the wound she had recalled mere seconds earlier.
“I cleaned the blood from your head and face, put some salve on the cut to help it heal, and washed your hair the best I could.” Boone grabbed the bowl of salve from the table, holding it for her to see while offering a list of duties performed in tending her injuries. “The splints are my doing, too.” He shrugged, waiting with a slight degree of fear on his face.
Carly glared down at her arm and back at him. “You put my arm and leg in these splints? Which means you took off my jeans. Without consulting me . . . while I was unconscious! Ow!” She continued her attempt to inch herself farther from the man at her side, grabbing her bruised shoulder with her good hand when it screamed in protest.
“Uh, yes, ma’am, I did but I was just checking on your leg injury.” He waved both hands in a frenzied, negative motion. “I-I needed to see if the bone was about to break through the skin. That was all I was lookin’ at. Just the break in your leg.” He winced while uttering his confession raising a certain level of doubt in her mind about its truthfulness.
“Where am I? Who are you, and why am I tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey?”
He gasped at the forceful questions being hurled in his direction, leaving a startled, what do I do now expression etched on his face. “Take it easy, now, Carly. You don’t want to re-injure those bones.” The man’s hand circled her wrist with a soft pressure.
“Don’t touch me!” She jerked from his grasp, slapping at his hand, and grabbing a fistful of the sheet. She pulled hard, tugging it close under her chin, her protruding nails slicing four uniform gashes through the fabric.
“How do you know my name?” Her furious expression freezing on her face, her lips forming an O-shape as she lifted the sheet, taking a peek underneath, and jerking her attention back to him. “Where. The hell. Are my clothes . . .? Who undressed me? Are you going to tell me who you are and why I’m here?” More rapid-fire questions blasted in the man’s direction.
“Uh, easy. Easy. Yes. Yes, I am, but one question at a time.” He blew out a breath and swiped a hand over his face. “Okay, uh, my name is Boone Weaver. Your car left the highway yesterday and crashed through the woods down by the creek here on my place. I pulled you out and brought you here to fix up your injuries.” He drew in another breath and continued in a flustered manner. “Your arm was . . . is broken in three places. Your leg had . . . has one bad break and there was a nasty gash on your forehead.” He pointed out each injured area of her body as he stumbled about with his explanation.
She closed her eyes. His words, triggering memories from yesterday’s events, caused them to flood back to her. “The crash. My head. There was blood. I couldn’t move my left side. My arm and leg hurt like crazy.” She raised her right hand, lightly touching her head to examine the wound she had recalled mere seconds earlier.
“I cleaned the blood from your head and face, put some salve on the cut to help it heal, and washed your hair the best I could.” Boone grabbed the bowl of salve from the table, holding it for her to see while offering a list of duties performed in tending her injuries. “The splints are my doing, too.” He shrugged, waiting with a slight degree of fear on his face.
Carly glared down at her arm and back at him. “You put my arm and leg in these splints? Which means you took off my jeans. Without consulting me . . . while I was unconscious! Ow!” She continued her attempt to inch herself farther from the man at her side, grabbing her bruised shoulder with her good hand when it screamed in protest.
“Uh, yes, ma’am, I did but I was just checking on your leg injury.” He waved both hands in a frenzied, negative motion. “I-I needed to see if the bone was about to break through the skin. That was all I was lookin’ at. Just the break in your leg.” He winced while uttering his confession raising a certain level of doubt in her mind about its truthfulness.
At home in East Central Alabama, she loves spending time with her family and pets. Mini-vacations with her husband provide ideas for future books.
In 2010, she joined Romance Writers of America and enjoys her support group, the Southern Magic chapter in Birmingham, Alabama.
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Thanks for having me today, Romance Novel Giveaways! What a great site!
ReplyDeleteLarynn
looks interesting
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DeleteLarynn
Love the covers. Thanks for the giveaway.
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DeleteLarynn
Like the cover and the excerpt sounds very interesting.
ReplyDeleteThanks Sharon!
DeleteI like the nice, fresh look of the cover. Sounds like a good summer read.
ReplyDeleteThanks Deb!
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI like the cover with the cabin in the background.
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ReplyDeleteVery realistic blurb- in my experience, some car crash victims fail to express gratitude, instead berating the same folks trying to help them.
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ReplyDeletetiramisu392 (at) yahoo.com
I have no questions for the author.
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ReplyDeleteI liked both the excerpt, and the gorgeous book cover.
ReplyDeletethe couple on the cover look cute looks like it would be a cute romance.
ReplyDelete