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Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Monday, February 2, 2015

It's time to Run for your life… - The Escape (Gumshoes & Grifters, #0.5) by Allana Kephart, Melissa Simmons

"Melissa and Allana have written another amazing book. They just keep getting better and better. I just love their writing style. I love and hate the way they leave you hanging at the end of The Escape. They definitely leave you wanting more and more. I can't wait for the next book in the Gumshoes & Grifters series." - Goodreads

Description:

Published: February 1st, 2015

Run for your life…
Sixteen-year-old Claire McBride just witnessed a brutal murder at the hands of someone she knew, someone she thought she could trust. Now she’s alone, afraid and desperate to put as many miles as possible between herself and the killer. Seeing no other options, she flees her hometown of Galena, leaving behind everything and everyone she’s ever held dear.

Run for your life…
Carter Emerson's whole world has come crashing down around him. He woke to the news his best friend, Claire has gone missing without a trace, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Finding out her car was abandoned in the busy city of Chicago, he and his brother can't help but fear the worst… With no solid suspects or leads, it looks like Carter’s worst nightmare could come true, and Claire’s disappearance may turn into a cold case.

Run for your life…
With the killer at her heels, Claire has no choice but to leave Carter in the dark. She can’t risk his safety just because she misses the sound of his voice… But will the run of Claire’s life be worth it in the end? Or will her past catch up with her no matter how hard she tries to escape it?

EXCERPT




I feel moisture on my face and realize I’m silently crying; my breath hiccupping out of me in frenzied pants. I stuff my cell phone back in my jeans pocket, turn to run and step right on a twig, causing a horrifically loud crack sound to tear through the false calm of the night. Eyes wide with terror, I turn to see recognition dawn on Liam’s face as he sees me there. I let out a strangled yelp and start running frantically back to my car. I send up a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that I make it out of this alive and pump my legs as fast as I can, heading into the forest rather than sticking to the trail. I am banking on the fact that Liam hates the outdoors and doesn’t come here often, whereas I come here with the Emerson boys at least twice a summer. I know these woods. My biggest worries are not tripping over tree roots and the wildlife I might encounter. But as long as I can keep ahead of him, I should be able to reach my car before he can catch me. Or so I keep telling myself as I run faster; the words Run for your life! repeating in my head like some sick nursery rhyme.

I try to stay as quiet as possible as I zigzag between the trees, closing the distance between myself and the relative safety of my car. If I can get to my car, I can make my way to help. That is the only coherent thought in my head as I listen to Liam’s labored breathing and pounding feet while he pursues me. After a few moments he calls out, in that falsely sweet voice he used on Greg a few minutes ago, “Claire, sweetness, come on now. It’s me. Just stop running. We can talk about this. I won’t hurt you, baby.” And I tremble with how badly I’d like to believe it’s the truth. I know he’s lying though, and he’ll put a bullet between my eyes as easily as other men would swat a fly. I can still hear Greg’s garbled begging as he bled out all over the beach and see the cold mask of Liam’s face as he watched him struggle for air.

I choke on a sob, stumble on something, and then let go a petrified scream when I feel Liam’s hand grab onto my upper arm. I kick at his shins and scream for all I’m worth, “Let me go!!” He makes a grab for my other arm and I shriek and use the flashlight as a weapon; striking out at him with it, finally connecting with his face and causing him to let me go in pain or shock or whatever. He screams, “Little bitch! You’re dead!” but I don’t stick around for him to elaborate or try and reach for me again. I hurl the flashlight at him and sprint away sobbing.




About the authors:
Allana Kephart has been making things up and bending people to her will from a very young age. She loves animals and reading and spends a large amount of time thinking up ways to torment her characters. She shares a brain, a love of coffee and the color purple with her alter ego/best friend/co-author, Melissa Simmons. 

Melissa Simmons is an avid reader who married her soul mate and is the proud mother of a spoiled cat. She spends her days helping promote independent authors and doing what the voices in her head tell her to. She shares a brain, a love of coffee and the color purple with her alter ego/best friend/co-author, Allana Kephart.

2 comments:

Book Drunk Sophie said...

Thank you for hosting :) - GHBT

Unknown said...

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