Lest you think Finding Hunter is all sweetness and light, and mere romantic fluff, let me assure you that it’s not. Not that I don’t love romantic fluff, myself, and read plenty of it. But in this case, it’s not what I’ve written. At least, not completely. Bad things are heading for Hunter & Willow, no matter how hard Willow tries to convince Hunter otherwise. To demonstrate what I mean, here is the Prologue, featuring the man who’s the source of the little snippets I’ve been sharing with you, from the beginning of each Chapter. Aahhh…the Traveling Man. He’s on his way. 😯
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FINDING HUNTER PROLOGUE
Dawn, August 1, 2013
EVERYTHING WAS PAIN. Everything he felt, everything he remembered. Pain, and pain, and pain. His dreams echoed with sounds of agony, screams ricocheting through his head. Pain—and blood. Rivers of blood. Scarlet, coppery-scented puddles spreading in front of him.
He woke on his knees, vomiting in the grass. Afterward, he crawled back onto the park bench, mouth sour, and head throbbing. Shivering, he tried to push the dreams away, but they weren’t ready to let him go.
He had done something bad. That was the problem. Worse than bad—something unthinkable. This crime was the root of all his dreams, and if only he could remember, he’d know what he needed to do next. But every time he tried to get it straight in his head, the screams would start again, followed by that God-awful, unrelenting pain.
As the day woke up around him, he huddled on the bench, with the smell of rotgut whiskey on his breath, and sledgehammers pounding inside his skull. He scrubbed at his eyes, as if that would wipe away the images of all that blood, and make the last echoes of those tortured screams disappear. It didn’t work.
There had to be a way to make it all end. When it came to him, he was surprised at the simplicity of the solution. Something—someone—needed to die. Fight fire with fire, blood with blood, pain with pain. Oh, yes. That was the answer.
Shuffling to his unsteady feet, he stumbled through the morning mist. He had no idea where he was—not even which state he was in, let alone the name of this little town—but he heard the unmistakable whoosh of cars speeding down a highway. In five minutes, he stood by the edge of the southbound lane, holding out his thumb. Instinct told him the direction to travel, and desperation kept him upright, as he waited for the ride that would take him where he needed to go.
His plan was simple. If death would bring an end to this pain, then someone was going to die.
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Finding Hunter is now available for download on Amazon. Print version coming soon.
Someone, but who?
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And isn’t that just the $64,000 question? 😀
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I can’t wait to finish this novel to find out what happens to Hunter and Willow. I’m a little over half way through.
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So glad to hear you’re enjoying it, Evelyn. Hunter Painter makes me laugh…except when he makes me cry. It was an emotional book to write, but I loved every minute of doing so. (BTW, did you get your invitation to become a contributor here? If not, I’ll resend it.)
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Yes, I received my invitation. But I keep forgetting to post. I’ll post more today.
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OK, great. Just remember to “Accept” the invitation, so it will let you post. And whenever you want is fine with me. Thanks, Evelyn!
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