(MSRP: 1.5000)
What could be worse than driving down a county road on a cold, snowy December afternoon and getting a flat tire... Being locked out of your car by your exuberant dog, acting like a fool trying to get back in when a tall dark handsome stranger stops and then the man doesn’t ask for your phone number.
Rosette
23 Pages Sweet
Excerpt:
"Miss, are you okay?"
A strange voice stopped me in my tracks. I looked up. Ten feet away stood a man with a huge, black, pick-up truck behind him.
I flashed him a tentative smile. He didn't look like a murderer. I shook my head in disbelief. I was becoming my grandmother--paranoid.
Still I studied the man, just in case I needed to give the police a physical description. He stood straight and tall, at least six feet, in his late twenties, compelling blue eyes, clean-shaven, no scars and black unruly hair.
My jaw slacked, my teeth started up their chattering, I switched the rock to my left hand. "I've got a flat tire."
"Are you planning on using the rock to fix the flat or hit someone over the head?" He took a blue knit stocking cap from out of his jacket pocket and pulled it on.
My fingers were tinged blue. I tried to keep the hysteria out of my voice, "I was going to use the rock to break a window."
Corners of his mouth twitched. "This might sound like a dumb question, but why?"
