キャミー・タング著「戌年」連載小説 プロのドッグトレーナーであるマリ・ムトウは、厄年を迎えている。 犬小屋と訓練所の改築をしながら、いつも不服そうにしている家族と同居することになった。母と姉に言わせれば、犬の毛とよだれかけにまみれる仕事は、家族にとって恥ずべきものだという。彼女は元カレを説得し、数ヶ月間犬を預かってもらうことにした。しかし、彼の兄は、数週間前に彼女が誤って車に追突した、怒り狂ったセキュリティ専門家であることが判明する。 アシュウィン・ケイトウは十分な問題を抱えている。叔母が玄関先に現れ、同居を希望している。彼は彼女にすべてを借りているので、断ることができません。母親が家を出て行った後、ネルおばさんはアシュウィンと弟を引き取り、愛のあるキリスト教の家庭で育てた。しかも、弟のダスティもアパートを追い出され、居場所を求めている。しかし、彼は犬を飼っている。そして、その犬の飼い主は誰だと思いますか? しかし、旧友でオアフ島のノースショアでデイスパを経営する私立探偵のエディサ・ゲレロから依頼を受ける。マリの施設で奇妙な破壊行為があり、3年前に失踪したエディサの妹の財布を発見する。エディサはマリが危険な目に遭っているのではと心配する。警備の専門家であるアシュウィンがすでにマリを知っていることを知ったエディサは、忙しい若い女性を密かに監視することを彼に依頼する。 アシュウィンは、活発でのんびりとしたドッグトレーナーに不本意ながら惹かれていく。彼女は、幸せそうな母親を思い出させる。その母親の裏切りによって、彼は人と距離を置くようになったのだ。マリは、アシュウィンの冷たい外見を見抜き、彼が家族に忠実な男であることを認める。彼は、彼女のキャリア選択を批判するだけの母親や姉とは違う。 マリのバラバラな家庭とアシュウィンのバラバラな家庭の中で、過去を隠そうとする人たちから、彼らの周りに危険が迫ってくるようになる。彼らは、影で動く秘密に光を当てることができるのか? 過去に発表されたパートへのリンクはこちら。 *** 第8章 - 恐ろしくも真っ白な不動産書類 『みんな仲良くできないのかな?』 マリは無用に力を込めて箱に本を投げ入れた。最近、なぜ彼女は人生の中で全員と言い争いをしているのだろう?もしかすると、これは本当に悪いアイデア
I’m posting my Regency romance, The Spinster's Christmas, so all my blog readers get a chance to read it! It’s the Prequel novel to my Lady Wynwood’s Spies series.
A Christian Regency romantic suspense
Spinster Miranda Belmoore has become a poor relation in her cousin’s house. She determines to escape a life of drudgery and disdain from her own family members, who are embarrassed by her straightforward speech and unconventional behavior that does not match with proper society. She is beginning to believe what they tell her—that she doesn’t matter to anyone, not even to God.
Former naval captain Gerard Foremont is having difficulty adjusting to life back on land, bitter that his career has been cut short by his severely injured knee. A Christmastide houseparty with the Belmoores reunites him with his childhood friend, Miranda, but he is appalled at the verbal abuse she endures and wants to help her.
The festivities are disrupted when a cloaked intruder attacks Gerard, with Miranda as the only witness. Now the two of them must uncover who wants to harm him and why, before Twelfth Night ends in murder …
All the posted parts are listed here.
***
Chapter 19b
She landed hard on her shoulder, rolling on the ground and onto the side of the road. She hit the base of a tree hard enough to rattle her teeth, but she didn’t pause even for breath. She scrambled to her feet, ripping the scarf from her throat to fling it aside, and plunged into the woods.
Her cloak flapped behind her, and she reached back to grasp the cloth and hold it closer so it would not catch on any branches or bushes. The wind of her passing caught her bonnet, its ribbons pulling at her throat. She scrabbled at the ends and untied it, and it flew from her head. She would be colder, but she could see more clearly around her.
Behind her came the sound of thrashing through the underbrush. She darted around the trees along a twisting path, and slowly the thrashing grew fainter.
She had to find a way to hide. What could she do?
Oh, Gerard. But Gerard would not find her.
Dear God, help me!
She had not noticed the trees around her as she ran, but she suddenly spied one that looked familiar, an old rambling oak that she and her cousins had enjoyed climbing. They had been Robin Hood’s merry band, waiting to pounce on unwary travelers. They had liked the tree because although the lowest limb was above their reach, a large fallen tree trunk was nestled at the base that they could climb to reach the lowest branch.
She hiked up her skirt and scrambled up on of the fallen trunk, which was taller than a table. It had protruding sharp branches that thrust straight up into the air, which she used to pull herself up, gritting her teeth against the pain in her injured shoulder. Standing on the fallen trunk, she reached for the lowest limb of the ancient oak, which was now even with her chin, and with a little hop, pushed herself up. She was not as limber as she had been at twelve, trying to keep up with Gerard, and each movement sent shafts of pain through her shoulder, but she swung her legs up, hampered by heavy skirts, to straddle the branch. She stood and continued to climb.
The branches were thick, reaching outward from the massive trunk, and ice coated the smaller limbs like white leaves. The snow rained down as she climbed higher. She lay astride a large branch far above the ground, pulling her skirts and legs up, hoping the barrel-like circumference would mostly hide her from view from below. Gerard had once hidden from his playmates by laying on his back, but she was not so brave as to flip over and release her grip on the oak.
And then she waited.
A few clumps of snow drifted down, then all was still. She strained her ears to hear Harriet or the two men, but perhaps they had stopped to listen, as well.
Oh God, help me. She squeezed her eyes shut, resting her forehead against the cold rough bark.
But suddenly, all she could hear in her mind was Cousin Laura’s voice saying, “Thou God seest me.”
Why should God see her or help her? She had done a terrible thing to Harriet. She had not believed that God would care about her.
What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?
She had to believe. Thou God seest me.
Help me, please. Send help.
Steps picking their way slowly through the brush. Coming closer.
Miranda peeked down and realized that because the trees grew so thickly, the ground had very little snow, and was unable to give away her path through them. The steps came closer, but they were passing along the far side of the tree.
She risked another look, and her throat closed up.
Harriet was walking through the forest, one hand clutching her cloak, and the other holding a pistol.
***
Buy The Spinster’s Christmas ebook!
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A Christian Regency romantic suspense
Spinster Miranda Belmoore has become a poor relation in her cousin’s house. She determines to escape a life of drudgery and disdain from her own family members, who are embarrassed by her straightforward speech and unconventional behavior that does not match with proper society. She is beginning to believe what they tell her—that she doesn’t matter to anyone, not even to God.
Former naval captain Gerard Foremont is having difficulty adjusting to life back on land, bitter that his career has been cut short by his severely injured knee. A Christmastide houseparty with the Belmoores reunites him with his childhood friend, Miranda, but he is appalled at the verbal abuse she endures and wants to help her.
The festivities are disrupted when a cloaked intruder attacks Gerard, with Miranda as the only witness. Now the two of them must uncover who wants to harm him and why, before Twelfth Night ends in murder …
All the posted parts are listed here.
Chapter 19b
She landed hard on her shoulder, rolling on the ground and onto the side of the road. She hit the base of a tree hard enough to rattle her teeth, but she didn’t pause even for breath. She scrambled to her feet, ripping the scarf from her throat to fling it aside, and plunged into the woods.
Her cloak flapped behind her, and she reached back to grasp the cloth and hold it closer so it would not catch on any branches or bushes. The wind of her passing caught her bonnet, its ribbons pulling at her throat. She scrabbled at the ends and untied it, and it flew from her head. She would be colder, but she could see more clearly around her.
Behind her came the sound of thrashing through the underbrush. She darted around the trees along a twisting path, and slowly the thrashing grew fainter.
She had to find a way to hide. What could she do?
Oh, Gerard. But Gerard would not find her.
Dear God, help me!
She had not noticed the trees around her as she ran, but she suddenly spied one that looked familiar, an old rambling oak that she and her cousins had enjoyed climbing. They had been Robin Hood’s merry band, waiting to pounce on unwary travelers. They had liked the tree because although the lowest limb was above their reach, a large fallen tree trunk was nestled at the base that they could climb to reach the lowest branch.
She hiked up her skirt and scrambled up on of the fallen trunk, which was taller than a table. It had protruding sharp branches that thrust straight up into the air, which she used to pull herself up, gritting her teeth against the pain in her injured shoulder. Standing on the fallen trunk, she reached for the lowest limb of the ancient oak, which was now even with her chin, and with a little hop, pushed herself up. She was not as limber as she had been at twelve, trying to keep up with Gerard, and each movement sent shafts of pain through her shoulder, but she swung her legs up, hampered by heavy skirts, to straddle the branch. She stood and continued to climb.
The branches were thick, reaching outward from the massive trunk, and ice coated the smaller limbs like white leaves. The snow rained down as she climbed higher. She lay astride a large branch far above the ground, pulling her skirts and legs up, hoping the barrel-like circumference would mostly hide her from view from below. Gerard had once hidden from his playmates by laying on his back, but she was not so brave as to flip over and release her grip on the oak.
And then she waited.
A few clumps of snow drifted down, then all was still. She strained her ears to hear Harriet or the two men, but perhaps they had stopped to listen, as well.
Oh God, help me. She squeezed her eyes shut, resting her forehead against the cold rough bark.
But suddenly, all she could hear in her mind was Cousin Laura’s voice saying, “Thou God seest me.”
Why should God see her or help her? She had done a terrible thing to Harriet. She had not believed that God would care about her.
What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?
She had to believe. Thou God seest me.
Help me, please. Send help.
Steps picking their way slowly through the brush. Coming closer.
Miranda peeked down and realized that because the trees grew so thickly, the ground had very little snow, and was unable to give away her path through them. The steps came closer, but they were passing along the far side of the tree.
She risked another look, and her throat closed up.
Harriet was walking through the forest, one hand clutching her cloak, and the other holding a pistol.
Kindle
iBooks
Kobo
Nook
Smashwords
Google Play
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