It’s time for Snippet Sunday. Are y’all ready for Halloween? I have my costume and those for the kids, and now we’re working on matching masks just in case we run into folks. Not trick-or-treating, but we’ll stand behind our storm door and hand out glow bracelets.
So today I’m showcasing THE CONCRETE ANGEL, a cocky bikers holiday tale. This was supposed to be a short holiday novella, but as with most things in the MC, it gets complex fast. So you get a full novel for this holiday season. THE CONCRETE ANGEL comes out November 9 2020!
In this snippet, we’re in Rochelle’s POV (all in first person). We pick up close to last week’s snippet and she’s still stuck in indecision.
Are you okay?
The question was easy enough to read from his expression, but why hadn’t he said anything?
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
He grimaced. He pointed at me again and did some motion with his hands.
Wait, was that ASL? It looked like he’d signed “hurt.”
“No, I’m not hurt, but I don’t know where I am or how I’m going to get home.” I wrapped my arms around myself and shot a look into the increasing snow.
He sighed and took another step closer to me so I could clearly see his hands. Despite his rough appearance, his hands looked strong, supple, and well maintained though the nails were a little longer than I expected.
He pointed at himself then at me and back to his bike.
“You’ll give me a ride?”
He nodded. The question was could I trust him to get me home? And do I want him to know where I live? But why wasn’t he speaking?
“Can you speak?”
He sighed again and shook his head, annoyance clouding his expression.
“Can you hear?”
He nodded, motioning me toward his bike. I hesitated a little longer, but what choice did I have? I could stay up here on the edge of a cliff in the snow, or I could take a chance on this guy to get me closer to home. Taking a deep breath, I followed him to his Harley parked off to the side of the gravel overlook, slowly accumulating snow.
We stopped at his bike and I tapped him on the shoulder. His skin was warm, but hard, the muscles taut. When he looked at me, I used my hands to sign at him, “Can you read sign language?”
Surprise and relief filtered over his face and some of the fierceness receded. Yes.
I pointed at myself and nodded. “Me too.”
Oh thank goodness for communication. 😉 There are several great authors on the Weekend Writer Warriors list, the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, and the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. A few of my favorites are, P.T. Wyant, Karen Michelle Nutt, Veronica Scott, Jessica Subject, Karysa Faire, and Iris Blobel.
Here’s the blurb for THE CONCRETE ANGEL:
The weather outside is frightful, and so are the goons trying to toss me off a snowy cliff…
Rochelle Stone, Earth Witch
Speaking out against a local bigwig who’s terrified of witches when you actually are a witch attracts trouble. Only the timely intervention of a big, hot biker dude saves me from a modern-day execution. He says he’s security for the Concrete Angels Motorcycle Club, but I know he’s more than that. I’ve always had an affinity for stones, and my affinity for Flint is through the roof. He’s hard as a rock and my hands tingle when I touch him. He doesn’t speak aloud, but his talented hands tell me plenty… Now if I can just get the jackass trying to kill me off my back, it’ll be a golden holiday for sure.
Humans. They’re either gloriously happy or dismally miserable.
Flint, Concrete Angels’ Security
With the holidays just around the corner, I’ve been looking for a quiet place to collect my thoughts. But that’s when Earl Creighton’s goons try to throw a woman off my local cliff. I normally don’t get involved with human troubles, but something about this woman captivates me beyond reason. We share a one-night stand and I know she’s meant to be mine. But Rochelle is no one’s property and she might not sign Loki’s contract. If she refuses, I’ll have to let her go and that will crack the foundation of my soul. No pressure, right?
Havoc, hexes, and holidays: It’s the most wonderful time of year…