Wednesday WIP

Hi all,

Hope your week’s going well. I’m down to the third to last day at my old job so feeling quite cheery πŸ™‚ I’m also re-releasing Love Reawakened a week tomorrow (third time lucky’s right? lol) and can’t wait it get it back out there. I’m going to be sharing my shiny new cover with you at the weekend, but in the meantime here’s a teaser snippet. Hope you enjoy πŸ™‚

 

e357bcbdf3612bebf7cd279e7f997beaGarret sank into the battered armchair and brought the glass of scotch to his lips. Taking a long draught, he sighed in exhaustion. It had been a long night. Some days, he thought he was just getting too old for this. There were more aches and pains every night, and long gone was the slim sense of satisfaction he used to get. He rubbed a hand wearily over his face, frowning at the two-day-old stubble, and downed some more of the scotch. Stop being such a pussy! It’s a job. That’s all, and tonight had just been a tough one.

At first, he barely registered the knock at the door, his senses dulled by alcohol and pure exhaustion. Then it came again louder, and he frowned, glancing at his watchβ€”four a.m. Who on earth would be knocking on his door at this hour? Well, whoever they were, they were going to get an earful. He didn’t take jobs at home, and everyone should damn well know that. He flung open the door with a sharp retort already forming on his lips, only to stand there in stunned silence, his jaw nearly on the floor when he saw who it was.

“Emma?” he managed in astonishment.

She gave him a small smile. “Garret, it’s been a long time.”

He gaped at her. Emma Strachan was the last person he expected to see. His gaze swept over her, searching for any changes the last several years might have wrought. Small and slight, she barely came up to his shoulder. That, along with delicate features, meant people always underestimated her. He tried not to smile; they rarely did it twice. She had a fiery temper and a wicked tongue. In more ways than one. The thought popped into his head, and he quickly squashed it down. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back from her face and plaited down her back, and she wore combats, thick boots, and a light cardigan. If he wasn’t mistaken, with dried blood on it and across her hands.

nightFor a second, his stomach dropped, but she seemed unhurt, and, then again, blood wasn’t unusual in her profession. One of the things they had in common, at least. He forced himself to meet the deep green of her eyes. She was scared, he realised with a shock, and it took quite a bit to scare Emma.

“What the hell have you got yourself into?”

Colour rose in her cheeks, but she met his gaze directly. “I may have lost a zombie.”

See, at least my day at work won’t be that bad (I hope!). Take care x