Welcome to Gully’s Fall, a quaint little town in a farming district in Australia.
Now meet the cop, ambo, firies, inspector and vet, who will all find their perfect matches amidst laughter, friends, loyalty, passion, misbehaving pets and a little mystery!
Meet Ryder, the ambo
scroll down for excerpt Book 3 of the Gully’s Fall series
Ryder and Dee have been striking sparks off each other for years.
They’ve blown hot and cold, argued, laughed, and clashed. Half
the townsfolk wonder if they’ll kill each other, the other half if it
will turn to romance.
No woman was ever going to pin bad boy Ryder down, but something
is happening, something that will make him look at the curvy blonde
with new eyes…but will it be too late?
Lazily, Dee up looked from the magazine she was reading to the window.
“Dee!” A flurry of furious knocks sounded from the back room door below.
Hmmm. Putting the magazine down, she got up from the sofa and ambled across to the window, drawing the curtain aside to peer down. The bull-nose veranda met her gaze but she waited.
“Deidre Miller, I know you can hear me! I know you’re inside! Come down right now!”
Like that was an invitation she wanted to accept. Leaning a shoulder against the window frame, she waited, a small smile playing around her lips.
Sure enough, after another flurry of knocks, a tall, broad-shouldered figure backed out into the yard and looked up. That dark blue gaze locked right on her, those sinfully seductive lips tightened and a muscle jumped in that square jaw.
Ryder Montague was furious, and all that fury was aimed right at her.
She gave him a little finger wave.
Ryder’s hand shot out, his finger pointing at her and then jabbing towards the door. “Now, Dee.”
She pursed her lips in feigned thought.
Okay, he was a little madder than normal. Good thing it was a Sunday morning and everything was closed, or every shop owner and their customer would be out gawking. Though maybe not, because Ryder, no matter how mad he was, would never make a spectacle of himself.
Pushing the window up higher, Dee flicked the catch on the flywire frame and pushed it open. Leaning her forearms on the windowsill, she drawled, “Something wrong?”
“Oh yeah, something’s wrong all right, you little witch. Open the damn door.” Steam was practically pouring from his ears.
“You sound a little upset.”
“By God, Dee, you open that bloody door right now or I swear I’m going to kick it in!”
“Don’t make me climb up there, Dee. I’m not kidding.”
“So are you going to climb up or kick the door in? You seem a little indecisive.”
“Geez, you need to relax, Ryder. Didn’t you get any morning delight from your latest shag?”
He actually grabbed the veranda post with seemingly every intention of climbing.
Oh boy, he wasn’t just furious. He was – well, was there a word for it? She doubted it. “Okay, okay! I’m coming down.”
After shutting and latching the flywire screen, Dee dropped the curtain and walked across the lounge and out into the little foyer, passing the sideboard she’d inherited from her grandmother. Going down the stairs, she trailed her hand lovingly along the smooth, wooden banister, just as she’d done hundreds of times since she’d bought the newsagency and the flat above it six years ago.
Her own boss, her own business, her own flat, her own life.
And right outside her back door, the man with whom she’d grown up, had known since childhood, and was intent on possibly ripping her head off. There were other things she’d rather he do, but she doubted today was going to be the day.
Reaching the end of the stairs, she saw his figure looming in the stained glass that filled the top half of the door. The glimpses of his face did not look promising.
Opening the wooden door, she paused with one hand on the security screen handle, the other on the key, her gaze on the man glaring through at her.
Man, Ryder was one heart-stopping, good-looking bloke. Apart from the bad-boy handsome face, he had unruly thick, black hair that always seemed roguishly dishevelled. A lock fell over his forehead making her fingers itch to brush it back, or better yet, twirl it around her finger.
However, she could dream, just as she could look, so she did, her gaze travelling over him appreciatively.
The town’s resident paramedic and heartbreaker, not to mention player, was bare-chested. Dee feasted her eyes on his chest. Good God, the man was built, all hard swells and peaks. Tattooed right on his left pectoralis was some kind of weird-arsed sun thing, a black circle with wavy lines coming out from it. The tat itself was fairly mundane in her opinion, but what those wavy lines did to his pec was criminal. They traced the swell, hugged the mound of muscle, one tendril curling right above a brown male nipple. A small hoop pierced his right nipple. Man was a total bad boy.
Her gaze slid lower. He was dressed in running shorts which showed off a six pack many other men would envy and long, muscular legs. His feet were spread firmly, sneakers planted on the pavement.
“Jogging?” she guessed. “Or just in a hurry to see me?” Amused, her gaze slid upward to meet those glittering, dark blue eyes. “My heart’s pounding at the thought.”
“Open. The. Damned. Door.”
“You know, Ryder, I’m having second thoughts. Letting a raging lunatic into my place doesn’t really appeal to me.”
Leaning forward, he bared his teeth.
“Opening to a rabid lunatic also isn’t on my ‘to do’ list.”
“You’re at the top of my ‘to do’ list.”
That made her heart flutter for all of about two seconds. What he meant and she wanted were two entirely different things. With a sigh, she turned the key and pushed the handle down. “Come on. Get inside before you stroke out.”
The door was whipped from her hands and before she knew it Ryder was storming inside, making her back-pedal so fast that her back hit the wall before she even realised it. His hands smacked against the wall right beside her ears as he bent down to glare at her.
Blinking, she registered several things at once.
One, the heat from his body was delicious. Two, his scent – a combination of clean male, sweat from jogging, soap and deodorant – made her inhale deeply. Three, if she closed her eyes, she could imagine he was ready to ravish her rather than rip her head off.
That last thought had all dreamy thoughts fleeing, her protective walls going back up. Arching one brow, she met his gaze coolly.
Ryder could be intimating – he was all male, all alpha, all sex on two legs with a great body and a sinfully handsome face, and in a job that just screamed ‘man in charge’ – but she’d known him since they’d been crapping their nappies and fought over toy soldiers in the sandbox, so she wasn’t intimidated at all. Curious and titillated, yes, but scared? Yeah, not happening.
“So, what’s up?”
copyright 2015 Angela Verdenius