Well, hello again. I’ve been on vacation, but it’s nice to be back. This blog is made possible each week by Angelica Dawson. There seems to be a glitch with the link this week, but hopefully you’ll be able to find the other great teasers.
Before i left, I published the digital format of Hello Again, my latest paranormal suspense romance. Your tease this week comes from there. The book is available from all Amazon distributors. https://www.amazon.com/Hello-Again-Susanne-Matthews-ebook/dp/B01FGN88I6
As they neared the spot Shirley mentioned, tornado damage was obvious. Two wide band of ripped up earth crisscrossed the field, dead animals in crumpled heaps scattered along the edges. He swallowed awkwardly. Were there people lying like that somewhere, too? Up ahead on the road, he saw a large tree blocking the road. From here, he’d guess it was an Assiniboine poplar, but there weren’t any of those for miles around. Stopping the car, he turned to the woman beside him.
He hurried across the road. As soon as he stepped to the edge of the soft shoulder, he saw the bruised and bleeding hands holding the pillow over her head.
“Miss?” he asked, but got no response.
Jumping into the ditch, he noted the water came up over his feet. He reached down, and lifted the pillow from her head. He felt as if he’d been sucker punched. How was this possible? He struggled to breathe again and blinked twice. This was the woman from his coma, the one he’d caressed and made love to.
But that woman was a figment of his imagination and this one was real—very, very real.
On her stomach, she’d turned her head to the right, no doubt to make it easier to breathe. Her long brown hair hid part of her familiar face. Reaching down, he touched her throat, letting out a whoosh of the air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when a strong, steady pulse beat beneath his fingers.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Shirley said. “Get her out of that ditch.”
“I thought I told you to stay in the car.”
“You did, but you’re going to need these.” She reached into the voluminous pockets on the dress she wore and handed him a pair of garden sheers. “Now, get that off her so we can get out of here. And before you say something stupid about not moving her, nothing’s broken. The cut on her leg will heal, and she’ll be fine—as long as we get back to the house before the next twister.”
Bill reached for the sheers and moved to the woman’s feet, snipped away the branches and lifted the surprisingly heavy log off her legs, moving it far enough aside to be able to lift her out of the ditch. Turning her onto her side, he scooped her out of the mud and water.
Her eyes fluttered open. Glazed with shock and pain, the beautiful sapphire blue orbs he’d recognize anywhere widened.
“Mike?” she whispered and smiled. “You came.”
Her lids closed, and she was unconscious again.
Carrying her back to the vehicle, surprised to see Shirley seated there already, he gently placed his new passenger on the backseat and then got behind the wheel once more.
“Quickly,” Shirley said. “We’ve got no time to lose. The tornado’s going to cross the road a quarter-mile from here. We don’t want to be too close when it does.”
Making a three-point turn, Bill stepped on the gas, hoping to outrun this leg of the storm.