By Georgina Sellwood
Contemporary Romance/Suspense
$3.99 eBook/$12.99 Print
ISBN:
978-1-943104-07-9
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When Amanda Vanderbilt is attacked at a party, she hides in a cowboy’s horse trailer to elude the masked man suddenly stalking her relentlessly. Bruce Palmer is on a mission to pick up horses for his boss across country in Seattle. A loner, he wants nothing to do with the pretty blonde he finds stowed away. But like it or not, he’s been lassoed into the mess, and it’s now his duty to protect her. Who is the masked man and why is he chasing them in a semi? |
$3.99 Ebook
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EXCERPT
Copyright
2015 © Georgina Sellwood
Run! Get away!
The man’s
hands bit into Amanda Vanderbilt’s upper arms as she struggled
and spat at his face, to no avail. The man wore a ski mask, but
the opening around his eyes let her see the shape and color of
them and how his
thick, black eyebrows met above the bridge of his nose.
“Shut up and
come with me,” her attacker growled. Her face stung where he’d
hit her.
At the back
of the garden, no one at the party would hear her. To scream was
useless. Tears of frustration ran down her face as dance music
floated on the wind.
“Let me go,”
she yelled in desperation. What else could she do? She’d tried
all the defensive moves she knew—kicking, biting, spitting, and
there was only one thing left. She would have to hurt him.
She lifted
her knee high and hard. The man fell like a stone, groaning and
holding himself. Her blouse ripped as he grabbed at her on his
way down.
“I’ll find you,
Amanda. You can’t hide. I know where you and the doctor
lived and
I know you are living with your
mother now,”
he yelled.
The light
from a street lamp shone through a gap in the hedge. She dove
and crawled through the hole on hands and knees. Branches
scraped her arms as dew from the grass ruined her clothes.
She hobbled out of
the hedge and struggled to cross the dark lawn on her broken
shoe.
Was he coming?
The hedge shook behind her. She gained her balance and hobbled
on.
When she made it
to the sidewalk, the broken heel of her Italian sandal clattered
on the pavement. Her hand trembled when she raised her arm as
she hailed an approaching New York cab.
Thank heavens, it’d
just pulled out of a driveway two doors away.
Footsteps pounded
the ground behind her.
When the car
stopped, she dove into the sanctuary of the backseat, holding
the ripped pieces of her yellow silk blouse together. “Go,” she
screamed, slamming the door and locking it.
Her breath came in
ragged gasps while her head spun. The scent of citrus cologne
lingered in the enclosed space, making her want to gag.
She met the
cabbie’s wide-eyed stare in the rearview mirror. “Are you all
right, lady?”
All right? Far
from it.
Who was that man who’d attacked her at the party? Kneeing him
had given her the seconds she’d needed to get away. Her heart
thudded against her ribs, and terror still gnawed at her nerves.
A week ago, she’d
received the party invitation from a friend.
“Who’s that from?”
her mother had asked, nodding at the scented, pink paper Amanda
held in her right hand.
“Karin
Rockefeller.”
“Well, surely
you’re not going to refuse another one. You have to stop sitting
around here moping and start getting out again. Brad was killed
two years ago, and it’s time you get over it.”
Pain had stabbed
Amanda’s heart after her mother’s insensitive remark. Depression
had descended like a shroud, enveloping her. Didn’t her mother
realize how much it hurt to lose her husband and move into her
parent’s house with her three-year-old toddler, Monica? She had
felt like a dog coming back with its tail between its legs. Did
anyone her age return home to their mother?
She’d been in a
fog of pain for—was it really two years?
She knew she had
to make the effort. Get out and be active again. Karin’s party
would be a good place to start. She wouldn’t know too many
people there, and she wouldn’t have to put up with the gazes
full of pity that she hated so much.
“You’re right,
Mother. I’ll e-mail her today and accept.”
“Good. We’ll leave
Monica with Consuela and I’ll take you to Fifth Avenue to shop
after lunch.”
They’d found the
perfect outfit, a yellow silk blouse and a matching skirt with a
ruffle at the hem.
The party happened
to fall on the staff’s day off and Mother was at an Arts Culture
meeting, so she’d left Monica with a new babysitter. Monica had
clung to her hand when Amanda dropped her off. For the last two
years, she’d been by Amanda’s side almost constantly. Amanda had
to pretend she didn’t see the tears gathering in her sweet
baby’s eyes as she closed the door and walked to the waiting cab.
The driver sent
another concerned glance over his shoulder, bringing her back to
the present. “Lady, are you okay?”
“Yes.” The quiver
in her voice made her sound far from convincing. “Go. Just go.”
She swallowed, tamping back the tears that stung her throat and
intensified, threatening to overwhelm her. As she bit her lip,
fear beat in her chest and wouldn’t be controlled as easily as
her urge to cry. She looked back. A shadowy figure broke through
the hedge.
The gearshift
clunked as they pulled away from the curb into the overcast
night. The man, still bent over and holding himself, staggered
after them. He chased the car a few steps, then stumbled and
fell.
“Where to, miss?”
Where should she
go? Certainly not home. The attacker knew where she lived. His
last words haunted her.
I’ll find you, Amanda. You can’t hide. I know where you and the
doctor
lived, and
I know you are living with your
mother
now.
Who wanted to hurt
her? Obviously it had to be someone who knew her if he knew her
address.
Her stomach
rolled—she was going to be sick. She clutched at her chest and
tried buttoning her blouse. It didn’t help, it was ruined.
Ripped and stained. Anyone who saw her would know there’d been a
struggle.
The cabbie’s hard
gaze met hers in the rear view mirror. “Miss, I need an address.
Where do you want to go?”
What should she
do? Where could she go? Anywhere but to the police. When her
husband had died, they’d put her at the top of the list of
suspects, grilling her for months until her nerves nearly
shattered. They still hadn’t found his killer, and if she
brought this attack to their attention, they might resume
interrogating her. As far as she knew, no one at the party had
seen it happen, and the police were unlikely to put out an
all-points bulletin for an unknown man wearing a ski mask.
She let out a
frustrated sigh, trying to clear her confusion. She wouldn’t
impose on her friends and relatives. What if she put them in
danger? She couldn’t go home or stay in town. The attacker might
be anyone, and he was coming after her. She clasped her hands to
control their trembling. She wanted her toddler, Monica, with
her, but that would be selfish and dangerous.
Amanda hadn’t been
at the Rockefellers’ party long when a man had bumped into her.
He’d bent to pick up her clutch and apologized for knocking it
out of her hand. When he’d handed it back, his dark, empty eyes
had set alarm bells ringing, but she’d ignored them.
She had thought
her friends would be interested in reconnecting with her after
her extended absence, but when she walked to the edge of several
groups, they’d ignored her and kept talking amongst themselves.
They had seemed indifferent to her wanting to reintegrate. It
hurt. Maybe she had been out of their circle too long, or they
were just too self-centered and spoiled to notice her.
The realization
had hit her hard. She’d needed to get away before someone
noticed the tears that were gathering and close to spilling. She
walked to the end of the garden where she knew there was a
three-person swing with a bench seat.
It’d turned out to
be a bad decision, because that’s when the masked man had pulled
her into the bushes. Thank goodness, she’d thought to use her
knee.
She needed to get
away to safety
so she could make a plan.
“Do you want me to
just drive around, or are you gonna give me an address?"
What about Monica,
her little three-year-old angel? Much as she would have loved
Monica to be with her, it was better to leave her where she was
safe. No one would think of her being with her friend, Kate’s,
babysitter. Monica had never stayed with Barb before. Not even
Amanda’s mom would know to search for her there. Kate let Barb
watch her children all the time, so she must be
loving and reliable.
“Okay. Take
me…umm, to the hotel on the highway,” she murmured, tasting the
salt of her tears.
“It’s a bad time
of night to be goin’ there and it’s gonna take a while.”
Amanda brushed at
her expensive clothes, trying but unable to remove the dirt and
grass stains. “Yes, but I have to get out of here. Will you
drive me somewhere out of town?”
“Lady, it’s almost
midnight. My shift is over soon. I can’t.”
Fresh tears stung
the back of her eyes. An impossible situation. “Then,
please…drop me at the nearest hotel out on the interstate.”
“Okay, miss, but
that’ll cost you. I hope you know what you’re doin’.”
To pay the cabbie,
Amanda peeled off a couple of bills from the meager cash in her
diamond-studded clutch purse. She’d only taken enough
money to get
home.
“Stay safe. Don’t
do nothin’ stupid.” The cabbie shook his head one last time
before driving away.
Stay safe.
It wouldn’t be
easy. Gravel pelted
her legs as he gunned the engine and sent the yellow cab
streaking out of the lot and down the highway, leaving her alone
in the hotel’s parking lot.
Opening her wallet
again, she counted the bills. Not enough for the hotel. What was
she going to do?
The sound of
rumbling engines caused her to turn. Fear hitched her breath as
she faced a multitude of parked tankers and semis. They appeared
monstrous in the tinted lights of the truck stop next door. The
echo of their engines and the stench of diesel brought to mind
the scary, shape-shifting toys from her childhood.
Through the
window, she saw two truckers sitting at the counter in the café.
She shivered in the cold. Though tempted to order something hot
to drink, she decided against it, not wanting to face their
reactions to her torn and soiled clothes. Glancing in the
direction of town, Amanda wondered if the masked man had
recovered enough to hunt for her.
Would he look
here? No, of course not, but she needed to find a safe way out
of the area.
A truck with a
horse trailer stood at the card-lock gas pump at the edge of the
lot next to the hotel. She hobbled toward it on her broken
sandal. She loved horses. Dreamed of living outside the city and
having one of her own to ride someday. She thought if she could
just pet one…
When she drew
near, she saw there were no horses inside. Disappointment
saddened her.
A hunky cowboy
with tanned skin and a handsome face started washing the
windshield of the truck. She ducked along the far side of the
trailer where he wouldn’t notice her.
Darkness shrouded
this side of the animal carrier. She slipped along beside the
horse stalls. This one—the type owners took to competitions,
staying in them while they showed their horses—had living
quarters at the front.
Unable to stop her
body shaking and teeth chattering, she looked to the RV part of
the trailer as a warm place, out of the chilly night air. She
tried the handle and it clicked open. A wave of relief washed
over her.
Just then, the
cowboy, his black Stetson slung low shadowing his eyes,
sauntered to her side of the truck to finish washing the window.
Amanda tore the door open wider and dove inside.
It was hard to see
in the dim light. Her left hand rested on a three-burner stove.
She had grabbed the corner of it to hoist herself inside. The
dark space on the counter next to it was probably a sink. Across
from her, a sofa sat along the far wall.
Footsteps shuffled
in the dirt along the side of the truck. He was coming her way.
In a panic, she scrambled up into the double bed on her right,
at the front of the trailer.
Her breath came in
ragged gasps as boots scuffed the concrete outside. She burrowed
into the untidy mess of covers on the bunk, to hide if the
cowboy entered. The scent of the man clung to the sheets, and
she tried to regulate her breathing.
He stopped a
moment then continued. Kicking the tires on his way by, he made
a circuit of the truck and trailer. She took a second to catch
her breath.
The truck rumbled
to life and she grabbed at the sheets for support. Should she
jump out or stay?
While she debated,
they bumped onto the highway. They moved far too fast for her to
escape. Wherever this handsome man was going, she was going,
too.
She hoped she hadn’t put herself in
more danger by stowing away in this cowboy’s trailer.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
While reading the internet, Georgina
found a quote that said, ‘If you write a page everyday you
can have a novel in a year.’ Well it wasn’t that easy. She spent
the next four years studying the craft of writing, taking
courses and having other writers critique her chapters. While
taking a course, she was asked to find three publishers she’d
like to submit to. The covers at Prism Book Group drew her in.
The rest is history as they say Family Matters that she had been
working on for two years was contracted. Having conquered sweet
romance, she is now working on romantic Christian stories.
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