Midweek Tease: My Favorite Mini-Vacation Place

MWTease15Good morning. I  don’t know where the year went, but it’s October. Autumn. Nature’s burst of glorious energy before her winter sleep. So far we’ve had good weather–very cool at night, but the days are warm. Unlike many parts of Ontario, we’ve had no rain. Later today, my husband and I will leave on a mini-vacation to Lake Placid, NY. At this time of year the colors are incredible.

im005447Some of you may recall that Lake Placid was the site of two  Winter Olympics, 1932 and 1980. It’s a gorgeous little village, crammed full of visitors in the summer and winter, when the skiing on Whiteface is at its best. I prefer visiting during less busy times. This weekend, Canadian Thanksgiving or Columbus Day, if you are American, marks the end of the visitor season to some of the sites in the nearby Adirondack Mountains. I took this picture at this time last year. I’m hoping the colors will be more vivid this time around.

This morning, I’m going to tease from The White Carnation, part of the Harvester Saga. I set a portion of the book in Lake Placid. Have a peek!

Harvester sagaThe trip to Lake Placid would take only half an hour, and he was determined to distract her and raise her spirits. He knew she was struggling with those files and her own doubts and fears.

“We’ll take the ski gondola up to the top of Little Whiteface another day,” he said as they drove past the Whiteface Mountain ski area that had been the focal point of the 1932 and 1980 Olympics. “We can drive up the Veteran’s Memorial Highway to the Toll House and take the elevator built into the core of the mountain to the top when it’s warmer. This weekend is Victoria Day, a Canadian holiday. The tourists will be here in droves, but I doubt the highway will be open. They had three feet of snow on the mountain last week. It might be open for Memorial Day, but we’ll have to wait and see.”

“How did you find out so much about the area? We just got here yesterday.”

“I’m a detective, remember?” He chuckled. “I used the Internet, but I’ve been here before. I used to come here with my parents when I was a kid. When you go up to the top, on a clear day, you can see all the way to Lake Champlain. If you’re a good girl, on our way down we can stop and visit Santa.”

She giggled. “I haven’t been to Santa’s Workshop since I was little. What do I have to do to be a good girl?”

“Hey, you’re always a good girl, but yesterday, you were terrific.” He watched her redden. “I was referring to the way you analyzed those files and came up with the cult theory, but today’s early-morning calisthenics were pretty good, too.” He swallowed as desire flooded him. Their sex life had always been rich and satisfying. Making love had only whet his appetite for more. “If that’s likely to happen regularly, I should pick up a box of condoms.”

She smirked and changed the subject. “How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?”

“At least a couple of weeks, maybe more. We can’t go back until we know you’re safe. Until last Friday, the case was cold. Now, only one week later, I’ve got another victim, Lucy Green’s murder, a recovered infant who wasn’t the Harvester’s, a missing pregnant woman, a missing victim, and your attack. If we can find the Smiths, we’ll get some answers, but we both know this isn’t television—the big ones don’t get solved in an hour. Let’s forget about the case for a while and enjoy what’s left of the day.”

Once she nodded, he continued to describe the area in his best tour-guide persona, trying to distract her with his knowledge. He felt a bit like a teenager trying to woo the hottest girl at school.

“If you ever want to quit police work, I’m sure you can get a job working as a tour guide here.”

“Only if the tourists are all as beautiful as you are.”

He signaled and got off the road at a designated lookout point. They were east of a small bridge over a fast-moving stream. The water gurgled and splashed over huge chunks of igneous rocks on the stream’s bottom, bubbling and roiling as it raced along in a swift current.

Faye leaned against him, threading her arm through his. He could smell the pine trees, a scent he always associated with the fresh air.

“It smells like Christmas here—like it did when I was young and we had a real tree each year.” There was a sadness and longing in her voice he hadn’t noticed before. “It’s peaceful, too. We’re right next to the road, and yet, I can hear everything clearly. It’s as if the water is singing. You can almost make out a tune in your head. Thank you so much for showing me this.” She reached up and kissed his cheek, bringing heat to his entire body. “You know, despite the circumstances, I’m glad we have the chance to be friends again.”

It was like having a pail of cold water dumped on him. “Just friends, Faye? I think we’ve established that we’re more than friends.”

Want to read more? The Harvester Saga is available from most major ebook vendors, including Amazon. The price? Less than a US dollar for 3 full length novels!

https://www.amazon.com/Harvester-Saga-Romantic-Thrillers-ebook/dp/B01KGO49XI

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