Sunday Snippet: Lonely Heart Mountain

Whew! Busy week, which I love. My youngest kidlet got engaged last weekend and we've been riding that wave of excitement this week.

Finished up one work project and got another new one. It's a mystery and I love those! Also plugging along with an ongoing LitRPG manuscript that's also a sci-fi/fantasy mash-up. I love the series!

Had an okay week of television viewing. I didn't get through as much as I thought I would but I'm cool with that.

I finished up the episode of Peak Practice and enjoyed it. I've got two episodes left and I'm bracing for impact because I know what's coming.

Caught the second part of Silent Witness and I'm happy to say I figured out the real culprit. It took some really twisty turns and I'm pretty sure there might have been a dangling plot thread but, honestly, a great episode.

Enjoyed another episode of Death in Paradise. I'm almost finished with the first season, and it's been terrific seeing the series in chronological order. Can't wait to start the next season.

Continued my rewatch of Battlestar Galactica with "Epiphanies." I'd forgotten how much this episode set up for the following seasons. And I'm always blown away by how incredibly good James Callis is in the role of Baltar.

I also caught another episode of Fantasy Island. Really enjoyed this one. I'm very, very cautiously optimistic with the Javier and Elena storyline. I'm going to be so disappointed if it ends up being trashed for the sake of angst.

And that's pretty much it for the life update this week. Tonight's post is from Lonely Heart Mountain, a novella that brings a couple together with a little help from delinquent siblings.

Here's the miniblurb:

Author Hettie Blackwell returns home to care for her ailing mother, because her two brothers aren't up to the task. But when Hettie bumps into Winslow Whittaker—the hot new sheriff—she's got more trouble, especially when her younger brother lands in county jail.

And a snippety peek…

Winslow Whittaker gave a low whistle. "Damn. There's a train wreck ready to happen." His instinct urged him to step in and deescalate the situation.

A weekend music festival with a turnout of about seven thousand people made an interesting melting pot in the middle of nowhere. And it definitely gave Win a fly-on-the-wall view of the residents he'd be mixing with in his new hometown.

He'd already clocked the battle of wills between a willowy blonde female and a hard-bodied guy with dark hair—both in their early twenties—as being close to disturbing the peace. Win worried it might slide into a domestic violence altercation.

The woman—and chief instigator—slammed her hand on the cooler acting as a makeshift table. "Dammit, Hank. I wanna be where the action is, and I need you to keep the lowlifes away so I can dance." She swiveled her hips back and forth in a sexy sway.

The guy—Hank—lifted his chin. "Shari, we broke up three months ago. You're not my problem anymore. Find someone else who needs a pain in the ass." He popped the cap off a bottle of beer.

Based on the pile of bottles scattered by Hank's chair, he wouldn't feel pain anywhere. Which meant he could stay mellow and ignore the ex-girlfriend or his switch could flip, and he could get aggressive if she didn't leave him alone.

Shari lashed out. "Asshole." She swung her leg back and landed a kick to the leg of Hank's fold-up lawn chair.

Of course, it collapsed and sent the guy sprawling. His beer sloshed everywhere, and the bottle went flying and crashed into a chrome fender on a huge Harley. A beefy guy rose up and started moving toward the duo.

Win stepped forward, ready to break his cover as an out-of-town spectator.

Hank shook his head. "Dammit, Shari. I'm trying to have a low-key experience here." He yanked his beer-sodden shirt over his head and flung it over the cooler then got to his feet.

The burly motorcyclist clapped a hand over Hank's shoulder. "Buddy, you just bought yourself a fuck-ton of trouble…"

"Yo, Bands. Give it a rest." The host of the concert, Tim Mullins, approached the group. "Blackwell didn't throw that bottle on purpose. Back off and enjoy the music." He jerked his head toward the group of six other bikers.

Bands muttered under his breath but walked away.

Hank grunted. "Thanks, man. Gonna fix my chair and keep my head down."

Tim sent a quick glance toward Shari. "And you're gonna let him. Walk away and leave him alone."

Shari huffed out a breath then turned and flounced away.

Win motioned for Tim to join him several yards away. "I almost stepped in there. Didn't look good for that, what's his name—Blackwell—kid." He regretted his promise to stay incognito for the duration of the weekend's festivities.

That way, according to Tim, a large swath of the county could get to know Win out of uniform. The idea made sense at the time. Win and Tim went back a few years. They met when Win, a state trooper at the time, rolled up on an accident scene involving Tim's tour van and a very drunk groupie who'd tried to flag them down with her vehicle.

Tim gave him a grim smile. "Glad you didn't. I've got Hank's situation handled." He met Win's gaze. "Sorry I told you about the sheriff's retirement?"

Win shook his head. "No, but I am rethinking your idea of having me here on the downlow." Tim would owe Win a huge favor after this.

Win didn't officially take over as the newly appointed county sheriff until Monday. If the weekend turned into a total shitshow, Win's first day could suck balls.

Tim gave Win the lowdown. "Look, Hank won't be here much longer. I called in reinforcements. One who's familiar with Hank's ex-girlfriend." He rolled his eyes.

Win nodded. "The blonde? Shari something."

Tim's head bobbed. "Yeah, Bennet. She's high maintenance and full drama and doesn't mix well with Hank's low-key approach to life. Or his lack of giving a shit when she creates a scene. She starts something and Hank sits and drinks to avoid getting sucked into her crazy circus." He leaned in a little. "They've been on and off since their freshman year of high school, but this last breakup seems final."

Win huffed out a breath. "Someone ought to let her know."

Tim's lips curved with a wry twist. "If she didn't figure it out tonight, there's a good chance she'll be set straight no later than Monday." His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen. "Damn. Gotta go. Next set starts in ten and I'm playing."

Win lifted a hand. "Break a leg."

Once Tim got halfway down the hillside, Win moved back about fifty yards and propped his shoulders against a sturdy oak. He might as well keep an eye on Blackwell, who struggled to get his beer-soaked shirt back on.

This story is so much fun. Win's got a challenge in front of him with his new position and it's been a joy to write his introduction.

 

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin