A humorous mystery set in the beautiful Lowcountry of South Carolina.
Excerpt
Excerpt from Chapter Twelve
I’ll admit I was a bit frightened when the car behind me tapped the bumper of the BMW. I looked for a place to pull off and stop. Unfortunately, a rain filled drainage ditch ran along my side of the road. Reluctantly, I stepped on the gas and felt the tires skid as they reacted to the burst of speed. I had no intention of racing down the road with an obvious maniac in pursuit, but it seemed like a better idea than stopping in the rain and having him hit me.
He hit me anyway. One instant I was frantically looking for any safe place to pull into, and the next instant I heard the smack of metal against metal and felt the roadster being picked up by the back end and tossed into the drainage ditch.
I must have blacked out for a moment or two. When my eyes focused, I realized I had blood oozing from my head and someone with the whitest teeth and the blackest, sexiest eyes I’d ever seen was pulling the car door open and lifting me out.
“Do you think you can stand?” Fernando Garcia let go of my arm and I instantly sagged to the ground. My legs felt like they had lost all their bones. Within a few seconds, not only was I as limp as a noodle, I was also soaked. I licked my lips as water mixed with blood trickled in my mouth, and I tried to peel my hair off my face. Senor Garcia looked good wet. Impressive muscles bulged under his black turtleneck, and his hair was thick and shiny in the rain.
I took the towel he offered me and couldn’t help notice it smelled faintly of musk. “Are you the one who hit me?” I asked as I gingerly touched a sore bump on my head.
Read more about Neigh It Isn’t So and Linda Clayton HERE.
Copyright 2010 Linda Clayton. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
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