Monday, October 17, 2011
Santa's Secret Gift.
Take a look and let me know what you think?
When Madison Sanford is abandoned on a mountaintop in the middle of Nevada's desolate state, where a body could die and not be found, if ever, she never dreamed that one day a secret Santa would give her hope for happiness.
Peter Jackson's destiny had once again crossed paths with Madison. Loving her scares the hell out of him and the only thing he knows to do is to run again, pushing her back in the arms of the man that could destroy her.
Available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble on Oct 25
Friday, October 7, 2011
“What the…Drake, there’s something down there.”
Swirling the light around, she looked closer. What the hell do you have here grandma?
“Drake,” she whispered. “There’s a box. It’s gotta be rotten after all these years. Hmm, maybe, whatever’s inside has been protected underneath the floorboards-you think?”
Drake growled and took a step closer to his master.
“It’s okay. I just want to see if…” she grunted and stretched out on her tummy. Straining every muscle in her body, she hesitantly, reached her arm down until she touched the large wooden container.
Her fingers fumbled along the edges. Gripping the top tightly, she easily heaved the lid to the surface. Throwing it aside, she looked back down. The bright light revealed a metal box inside.
“Whoa, what do we have here?”
She gave Drake a quick glance and mumbled, “Grandma hid something here?”
His ears perked.
Sarah reached down and after several grunts, her fingers finally gripped the object. Hauling the metal box out, she managed to sit up and stared at its rusty lock.
Wide-eyed, she whirled, squinting beyond her bright light.
A void of blackness met her gaze.
No sounds, other than Mother Nature’s night songs. Geez, the Beretta was in the car. Good place for it, dummy.
“Come on boy. Let’s get out of here,” she whispered.
Pulling to her knees, she leaned over and once again shined the flashlight back and forth into the dark pit. “Wait a minute, there something else.”
Once again, she dropped to her knees, reached down further into the hole, and felt around until her hand connected with a long, hard object. Gripping tightly, she surfaced and stood.
Pushing aside the deteriorating cloth, her eyes widened. What was grandma doing with a gun? A machine gun wrapped in an old rotten gunnysack.
Drake bared his teeth and released a long slow growl.
This time she heard something.
Cold chills ran down her spine.
Her head whirled to the far corners of the room. She bit down on her quivering lips.
Drake stiffened and growled again. His fur bristled up on his neck.
“Let get out of here,” she whispered. Hurrying, she dropped the gun into the hole and quickly replaced the floorboards. Gripping the flashlight, she gathered up the metal box and turned to run for the car.
A tall, dark shadow blocked the doorway.