Friday, January 16, 2015

February and the Single Heart by Vi Zetterwall Excerpt

February and the Single Heart by Vi Zetterwall
$2.99 or FREE for Prime Members

HOW MUCH LUCK CAN ONE COIN HAVE?

Heiress and teen genius, Mary Jo Miller, is kidnapped at fifteen and rescued by a reluctant hero. But after her father’s death and a series of calamitous events, Mary Jo is on the streets and must use her brains and savvy just to survive. Eight years later, she finds herself as the primary suspect in an ingenious art theft and, once again, her hero from before must save her. Holding on to her lucky coin and hoping for another happy ending, she soon realizes that all things change and the young man she is falling for may not be her rescuer after all.

A stand-alone novella, this story, the second in the Single Heart series, follows events that occur as a new owner of the Coin of Luck in Life and Love comes into its possession.

Excerpt:

Mary Jo Miller has just been rescued from captivity by a young man she doesn’t know.

They weaved their way through the debris, took a few turns and as they did, a sliver of moonlight illuminated part of the floor before them. They picked up their speed a bit and headed for the door. About then, they could hear the voices getting louder and closer.
Oh God, Pugface and Tall Dude are coming for me!
They passed a doorway into a smaller room and then straight out into the outdoors. The cold air and the outdoor scents almost overcame her.
Oh God, we’re out!” Mary Jo breathed a short-lived sigh of relief as they left the building.
C’mon, double time it. We’ve got to get out of sight in the forest before they get out. How many are there?”
As they ran, Mary Jo called out “Two—I think. I’m not sure.”
OK, just hurry. He led the way to a copse of trees about forty yards from the front of the old power relay station. As they reached it, the young man looked back and could hear the sounds of men running along the side of the deserted building, but he could not see them yet. He grabbed Mary Jo and pulled her down behind a string of bushes. There, sat his backpack and a case of some kind. He motioned for her to keep her head down and gave her the shush signal with his finger up to his lips. Through the bushes he could see two men, standing in the clearing, trying to decide which way to go. Any movement now would attract them. Junior and Mary Jo stayed still and waited. Thirty seconds and three forevers, passed by, then the two men headed into the forest together about sixty yards east from where he and Mary Jo hid.
Mary Jo could see them and which direction they took. For the first time since she regained consciousness, she smiled.
The young man smiled too. “We got lucky. They’re heading in another direction.”
Still smiling, Mary Jo stared back at the young hero and said, “That’s a start.”
As soon as the two men were out of sight and hearing range, the young man stood straight up and helped Mary Jo to her feet as well. “Grab that case and I’ll take the backpack. We need to make some good time heading west. Right now.” He pulled the backpack onto his shoulders and started to leave.
Not so fast, buddy boy. I don’t even know who you are. You got a name?”
Everybody has a name. I told you I am with the Dunn Detective Agency and we don’t have time for this. We need to get out of here now.”
Mary Jo shook her head. “Not good enough. I want to see some ID. I wanna make sure I am not jumping from the frying pan into the fire here. You could be some fucking pervert or wack-job or something.”
The young man rolled his eyes. He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed her a card. Mary Jo looked it over. Then she looked him over. By her best guess, he was close to 5 foot 10, probably 160 pounds. A bit of a skinny rail, she thought. He had tussled brown hair and was unshaven but his facial hair was light in color and there wasn’t much of it. He had a clear complexion and decent features but he looked like a teenager.
Are you kidding me? What kind of name is this? I need real ID. Something I’ll recognize. You could’ve made this private detective ID card with a computer and a laminating machine. You got a driver’s license?”
Jo Jo, we don’t have time for this. We’ve got to go.” When she didn’t budge, he pulled out his wallet again and handed her his driver’s license.
Damn, is this for real? That’s really your name?”
It’s my dad’s name too. Now can we quit critiquing my parent’s name selection and get the heck out of here?”
Yeah, sure. I just expected, you know, to get rescued by someone normal, not some weirdo misnamed private dick.”
Sorry to disappoint you. Can we go now? And, for the record, I hate being called a private dick.”
OK, sorry. Didn’t know you were so sensitive. I’ll just call you Junior, how’s that?”
Can we go now?” Junior didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and headed out with Mary Jo in close pursuit.
They walked for about ten minutes when Mary Jo offered an observation, “I don’t think this is west.”
It’s not. Just be quiet and keep going.”
Uh, uh. We’re going south. Why? West gets us out of here, right?”
Junior turned around to face her. “Look, those two guys are going west too. They are likely running a parallel path to where we would be if we were going west right now. Sooner or later, they will get closer to us or they will change directions when they realize we aren’t where they are. We need to put some more space between us and them before we head west. Does that meet with your approval?”
You’re scared of them.”
Of course, I’m scared of them! They probably have guns. They are the criminals here. We do not want to run into them again. What part of ‘they want to kill you’ do you not understand?”
I thought you were trained and…well, capable. You’ve got a gun, don’t you?”
I have a flare gun that I was supposed to use when I found you. And if I had a real gun I would not be itching to use it. I am trained. In solving cases. Not in hand-to-hand combat with Mutt and Jeff.”
Pugface and Tall Dude.”
What?”
I call them Pugface and Tall Dude. Anyway I get it. You’re scared and now I’m more scared too. We’re in deep shit, aren’t we?”

No comments:

Post a Comment

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...