She was so caught up in the magic of the process that she almost didn’t see Danny in the cage of the skid steer until the engine died and he unfolded himself from the small space. It was like watching a flower open in the sunlight. As if sensing her presence, he wiped his brow on his shirtsleeve and looked her way, hands on his hips, dare in his eyes. It was only the second time she’d seen him. Like the building, he was no less impressive.
This was the Danny she remembered, in jeans and a t-shirt, dirty and sweaty and utterly male. While his reaction to her at their first meeting was obvious, she couldn’t read the look on his face, and couldn’t make her legs propel her forward. He’d rooted her to a spot with a look. And the realization of that made her move in his direction.
“Mr. Flannery.” With real effort, she moved her eyes from his and glanced around the site. “Busy day. Hope you don’t mind my dropping by.”
Danny shrugged. “Free country, but you may want to watch where you step.”
“It’s not my first time on a building site.” It took work to keep her voice level. She wouldn’t make inroads if she let him goad her. “Mind if I look around?”
“Don’t get in the way.”
“Okay.” She turned and watched the crew move the rammer to the form where Danny had finished pouring the soil mixture, and flinched when the machine started up and the noise made questions impossible.
Not that he’d volunteer any information.
From his clipped tone, she could tell he was defensive, and unless her senses were off, territorial. She’d stepped into his world, where he had firm footing. She was wading in quicksand and he knew it. She moved around freely, tried to ignore the sensation of being watched, every movement observed by Danny and the other men on the site. She was used to being a distraction, used to having her presence questioned. Her usual interview subject desired her attention and appreciated her insight. As if she needed another reminder, Danny Flannery wasn’t her usual interview subject.
I love this excerpt! I chose an excerpt from Tuesday’s Child, book 1 of Psychic Visions. This is when Sam first meets a damaged German Shepherd for the first time – a relationship that is key to the rest of the book.
The shepherd’s low growl warned her halfway.
“It’s okay, boy. It’s just me. I’ll be taking care of you. Give you food, fresh water, and friendship. The things that help us get along in life.” Although she kept her voice quiet, warm, and even toned, the growl remained the same.
She couldn’t blame him.
He might be able to get along without friendships, but she wanted them. She’d never had that elusive element that others took for granted.
Sam approached the dog’s cage with care. According to his chart, he’d had surgery to repair internal bleeding and to set a shattered leg. On top of that, he’d suffered several broken ribs, a dislocated collarbone and was missing a huge patch of skin on both hindquarters. Written in red and circled were the words – aggressive and dangerous. The growling stopped.
Sam squatted down to stare into his eyes. The dog should have a name. He didn’t give a damn. But a name gave the dog a presence, an existence…an identity.
“How about…” she thought for a long moment. “I know, how about we call you Major?”
The dog exploded into snarls and hideous barking, his ears flattened, and absolute hate filled his eyes.
“Is everything okay back here?”
Sam turned in surprise to see one of the vets standing behind her, frowning. “Sorry,” she yelled over the din of the other animals that had picked up the shepherd’s fear. She waited for the animals to calm down before continuing. “I’d thought of a brilliant name for the shepherd, but from his reaction, I think he hates it.”
The vet walked over and bent down to assess his patient. “It could have been your tone of voice or the inflection in the way you said the name. He’d been abused even before this accident.” After a thoughtful pause, he added, “I’m not sure, but it might have been kinder to have put him down.”
“No.” Sam stared at him in horror. “Don’t say that. He’ll come around.” At his doubtful look, she continued, “I know he will. Give him a chance.”
That she seemed to be asking the vet to give her a chance hung heavy in the room, but she didn’t think he understood that.
He stared at her, shrewdness and wisdom in his eyes.
Then again, maybe she’d misjudged him. She shifted, uneasy under the intense gaze.
“We’ll see. We’ll have lots of opportunity to assess his progress as he recuperates.”
Sam had to be satisfied with that. She knew the dog was worth saving and so, damn it, was she. Her salvation and that of the dog’s were tied together in some unfathomable way. She could sense it. She’d fight tooth and nail to keep him safe.
In so doing, maybe she could save herself.
Two different books. Two different styles. Two different giveaways! Both Christy and I will be giving away one copy of our ebooks through Smashwords.com to two lucky people who leave comments!