“Very slowly, she peeked around the tree trunk. Saw a slim, petite figure, flanked by two very large, very dangerous-looking soldier of fortune types picking their way through the bodies and the rubble. "Amy?" Oh, God. It was Amy. "Get away from her," Jenna ordered, stepping out from behind the conifer, wielding the iron pan like a club. Both men stopped. Glanced at her. Glanced at each other over Amy's head. "What?" The biggest one grunted out a surly laugh. "Or you'll souffle us?" Okay. She was definitely going after him first.” MenWayFirstsTwoBodyBehindsLaughingSawsTreeDangerousFiguresTypeOkayFortuneSoldierClubsIronGet AwayAmyTrunksSlimRubblePetiteSurlyTree TrunksSouffle Author:Cindy Gerard
“Ah, well.” He smiled-another one of those devastatingly intoxicating smiles that did unreasonable things to her body temperature and respiration. With a nod and a respectful, “Ma’am,” he left her in the middle of the room. Feeling like she’d been hit by a tank.” WellsFeelingsBodyLeftRoomsMiddleTemperatureTanksRespectfulUnreasonableBody TemperatureRespiration Book:To the Brink Source: To the Brink
