Excerpt from
Shaken
a full-length novel of romance and suspense
from award-winning author
Pamela Beason
The following scenes are from the middle of the book. Elisa Langston has spent a long day reopening the family plant nursery business—Langston Green—after repairing damage
from an earthquake and an elusive vandal/arsonist, whom Elisa calls The Gremlin.
Because The Gremlin burned down her office building and her apartment, she is living
on the property in a rented camper. She had hoped that Jake Street, her insurance investigator, would stay after the reopening event. After all, he seems to believe she is innocent now,
and he has given her one smoldering kiss. But after the party, Jake gives Elisa
only a check from the insurance company before he leaves.
On his drive home, however, he has second thoughts about leaving her alone…
Shaken
a full-length novel of romance and suspense
from award-winning author
Pamela Beason
The following scenes are from the middle of the book. Elisa Langston has spent a long day reopening the family plant nursery business—Langston Green—after repairing damage
from an earthquake and an elusive vandal/arsonist, whom Elisa calls The Gremlin.
Because The Gremlin burned down her office building and her apartment, she is living
on the property in a rented camper. She had hoped that Jake Street, her insurance investigator, would stay after the reopening event. After all, he seems to believe she is innocent now,
and he has given her one smoldering kiss. But after the party, Jake gives Elisa
only a check from the insurance company before he leaves.
On his drive home, however, he has second thoughts about leaving her alone…
Elisa turned out her light and lay in the dark, listening to the breeze outside, not really sleepy. It was not quite ten o'clock, even if it had been a long day. But here she was at the end of it, alone again. She sighed and stretched out her hand to stroke Simon. The cat bolted upright, growling. He leapt from the bed and stalked toward the kitchen. Elisa sat up. She sucked in a breath and crept down the hallway after Simon. Staring out the window in the door, she scanned the blackness, focusing on the far corner where the tidying up had been occurring. The Gremlin? The Good Samaritan? She could discern no movement other than a gentle swaying of vegetation in the light breeze.
“I can't see anybody out there, Simon.” She stroked the stiff fur at the back of his neck. “Is it a feline intruder, peeing on your property?”
He growled in response, trying to convince her of his seriousness. His green-eyed gaze never wavered from the square of glass set into the camper door. Normally, Simon eagerly confronted other tomcats in his territory. But the window beside the door was still half-open, and the cat made no movement toward it. Her stomach clenched. Whatever was out there, Simon was afraid of it.
She let her gaze roam over the nursery property closer in, searching for the slinking trot of coyotes, the lumber of a raccoon. It was dark tonight, with only a sliver of moon peeking between jetting clouds. Beyond the pool of brightness shed by the new security light at the back of the barn, Elisa couldn't see much. She recognized the spiky silhouettes of a stack of bare-root fruit trees, waiting to be tagged and displayed. A couple of two-wheeled carts upended next to the trees. The angular hulk of the storage shed.
There. In front of the upended carts. Her breath caught in her throat. A tall black figure, barely visible among all the other shapes. A man. The Gremlin.
A chill shot through her body, raising pimples on her bare arms. The window by the door was half open. The door was locked, but as Jake had demonstrated, anyone could easily enter by reaching in through the window and unlocking the door. If she shut the window now, the Gremlin would see her for sure. If she didn't shut it, would he try to come in?
She dropped out of sight from the windows, and crawled to the kitchen. Reaching up, she felt for the cast-iron griddle she'd left on the stovetop. She sat on the floor, trying to catch her breath, anticipating the ominous tap of footsteps. After a long moment of listening to Simon's growls and hisses and to her own heartbeat thudding in her head, she began to feel like some comic-book woman, dashing for a frying pan to use as a weapon. Moving to the window, she raised her head just enough to peer out.
The Gremlin hadn't moved. She ducked her head, sat down next to the door with her back against the wall. Simon had slunk into the dining area. He perched on top of the table, hissing like an outraged mongoose. The noise was not helping her nerves.
She chanced another quick peek. If the intruder had changed position, it hadn't been more than a few inches. He was big. The sinister image of Baker's blond work-release laborer rose up in her imagination. What was that he held in his hand? Looked like a short club of some kind: what did they call it, a sap? That's what she was starting to feel like, a sap of a different sort.
Maybe he was waiting to make sure she was asleep before … before what? Up to now, the Gremlin had focused on property damage. Jake had suggested he might be escalating, and might even attempt murder. Elisa's stomach somersaulted as a thought suddenly occurred to her, a crime that would combine property damage and murder. Maybe he didn't need to come in to get to her. Maybe the Gremlin had attached a bomb to the camper and was waiting for it to blow.
Whatever he had in mind for her, she wasn't going to wait for it. Elisa wormed her way across the floor back to the bedroom, tucking Simon under her arm. He growled and struggled. She held on. She verified that the Gremlin had no accomplice in back of the camper. Then she silently inched open the window over the bed. After dropping Simon out, she followed, thrusting out her cast first and then hanging onto the window casing as she lowered herself to the ground. With her feet on the ground, she released the window casing slowly, hoping the shifting of the camper wouldn't be noticeable in the dark. Then she limped through the shadows toward the new storage shed.
* * *
Jake moved the bottle of wine to his other hand, debating what to do. All lights were out in the camper. Elisa must have gone to bed, even though it was not quite ten o'clock. He was reasonably sure she was still here; the company van and her pickup were in the parking lot. Was she asleep? Did he dare knock on the door? This was a stupid, whimsical thing to do. He really ought to take the wine home and drink it himself.
Was that a flicker of movement inside? The camper rocked slightly. He straightened, his muscles taut now. Was someone inside with Elisa?
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of movement. A lithe black-and-white form streaked through the shadows. Her cat, Simon. Then he heard a muffled noise behind him. Then another. Footsteps, deadened by the soft dirt underfoot. He was not alone out here in the dark. He tensed, feeling for his pistol before he remembered it was locked in the glove box of his Rover.
It had to be Elisa's Gremlin. Whatever he was up to, this would be the end of his escapades. Jake quickly searched the surrounding area for something that would serve as a better weapon than a bottle of pinot gris.
* * *
Keeping to the shadows, Elisa grabbed a shovel from the tools grouped by the shed's back door. It was cold out here. All she had on was an extra-large T-shirt that only reached her thighs. Why didn't she sleep in something more sensible, like long johns or sweats? Hadn't she of all people learned by now, that at any moment one could be surprised by an earthquake or a fire? She really should be more prepared for disasters: they seemed to happen to her regularly these days.
She couldn't yet see the man, but she feel him waiting. There. The darker spot among the shadows, over by the bareroot fruit trees. She was in luck; he still had his back to her. She swung the shovel over her shoulder like a baseball bat and limped toward the Gremlin.
* * *
The best weapon Jake had been able to come up with was some sort of bush. There was a whole pile of them nearby. At least this one had a sturdy trunk and its roots were bound in a solid ball of dirt and burlap. He could hear the intruder approaching from behind, but decided to let the Gremlin believe he had the element of surprise.
At the last minute, when he sensed that the shadowy presence was just behind him, Jake hefted the bush and swiveled to face his attacker, swinging the heavy root ball like a medieval mace.
~ END OF SAMPLE ~
Buy SHAKEN for: Kindle Nook All Ebook Formats on Smashwords.com
“I can't see anybody out there, Simon.” She stroked the stiff fur at the back of his neck. “Is it a feline intruder, peeing on your property?”
He growled in response, trying to convince her of his seriousness. His green-eyed gaze never wavered from the square of glass set into the camper door. Normally, Simon eagerly confronted other tomcats in his territory. But the window beside the door was still half-open, and the cat made no movement toward it. Her stomach clenched. Whatever was out there, Simon was afraid of it.
She let her gaze roam over the nursery property closer in, searching for the slinking trot of coyotes, the lumber of a raccoon. It was dark tonight, with only a sliver of moon peeking between jetting clouds. Beyond the pool of brightness shed by the new security light at the back of the barn, Elisa couldn't see much. She recognized the spiky silhouettes of a stack of bare-root fruit trees, waiting to be tagged and displayed. A couple of two-wheeled carts upended next to the trees. The angular hulk of the storage shed.
There. In front of the upended carts. Her breath caught in her throat. A tall black figure, barely visible among all the other shapes. A man. The Gremlin.
A chill shot through her body, raising pimples on her bare arms. The window by the door was half open. The door was locked, but as Jake had demonstrated, anyone could easily enter by reaching in through the window and unlocking the door. If she shut the window now, the Gremlin would see her for sure. If she didn't shut it, would he try to come in?
She dropped out of sight from the windows, and crawled to the kitchen. Reaching up, she felt for the cast-iron griddle she'd left on the stovetop. She sat on the floor, trying to catch her breath, anticipating the ominous tap of footsteps. After a long moment of listening to Simon's growls and hisses and to her own heartbeat thudding in her head, she began to feel like some comic-book woman, dashing for a frying pan to use as a weapon. Moving to the window, she raised her head just enough to peer out.
The Gremlin hadn't moved. She ducked her head, sat down next to the door with her back against the wall. Simon had slunk into the dining area. He perched on top of the table, hissing like an outraged mongoose. The noise was not helping her nerves.
She chanced another quick peek. If the intruder had changed position, it hadn't been more than a few inches. He was big. The sinister image of Baker's blond work-release laborer rose up in her imagination. What was that he held in his hand? Looked like a short club of some kind: what did they call it, a sap? That's what she was starting to feel like, a sap of a different sort.
Maybe he was waiting to make sure she was asleep before … before what? Up to now, the Gremlin had focused on property damage. Jake had suggested he might be escalating, and might even attempt murder. Elisa's stomach somersaulted as a thought suddenly occurred to her, a crime that would combine property damage and murder. Maybe he didn't need to come in to get to her. Maybe the Gremlin had attached a bomb to the camper and was waiting for it to blow.
Whatever he had in mind for her, she wasn't going to wait for it. Elisa wormed her way across the floor back to the bedroom, tucking Simon under her arm. He growled and struggled. She held on. She verified that the Gremlin had no accomplice in back of the camper. Then she silently inched open the window over the bed. After dropping Simon out, she followed, thrusting out her cast first and then hanging onto the window casing as she lowered herself to the ground. With her feet on the ground, she released the window casing slowly, hoping the shifting of the camper wouldn't be noticeable in the dark. Then she limped through the shadows toward the new storage shed.
* * *
Jake moved the bottle of wine to his other hand, debating what to do. All lights were out in the camper. Elisa must have gone to bed, even though it was not quite ten o'clock. He was reasonably sure she was still here; the company van and her pickup were in the parking lot. Was she asleep? Did he dare knock on the door? This was a stupid, whimsical thing to do. He really ought to take the wine home and drink it himself.
Was that a flicker of movement inside? The camper rocked slightly. He straightened, his muscles taut now. Was someone inside with Elisa?
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of movement. A lithe black-and-white form streaked through the shadows. Her cat, Simon. Then he heard a muffled noise behind him. Then another. Footsteps, deadened by the soft dirt underfoot. He was not alone out here in the dark. He tensed, feeling for his pistol before he remembered it was locked in the glove box of his Rover.
It had to be Elisa's Gremlin. Whatever he was up to, this would be the end of his escapades. Jake quickly searched the surrounding area for something that would serve as a better weapon than a bottle of pinot gris.
* * *
Keeping to the shadows, Elisa grabbed a shovel from the tools grouped by the shed's back door. It was cold out here. All she had on was an extra-large T-shirt that only reached her thighs. Why didn't she sleep in something more sensible, like long johns or sweats? Hadn't she of all people learned by now, that at any moment one could be surprised by an earthquake or a fire? She really should be more prepared for disasters: they seemed to happen to her regularly these days.
She couldn't yet see the man, but she feel him waiting. There. The darker spot among the shadows, over by the bareroot fruit trees. She was in luck; he still had his back to her. She swung the shovel over her shoulder like a baseball bat and limped toward the Gremlin.
* * *
The best weapon Jake had been able to come up with was some sort of bush. There was a whole pile of them nearby. At least this one had a sturdy trunk and its roots were bound in a solid ball of dirt and burlap. He could hear the intruder approaching from behind, but decided to let the Gremlin believe he had the element of surprise.
At the last minute, when he sensed that the shadowy presence was just behind him, Jake hefted the bush and swiveled to face his attacker, swinging the heavy root ball like a medieval mace.
~ END OF SAMPLE ~
Buy SHAKEN for: Kindle Nook All Ebook Formats on Smashwords.com
