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 Scott, the firie
scroll down for excerpt Book 1 of the Gully’s Fall series
One horrendous encounter with bikies left Ash shattered. Arriving
in Gully’s Fall in search of a new life, she didn’t count on falling
for the hunky, motorbike-riding fireman who rescued her when her
care broke down. Scott’s drawn to the rubenesque beauty, his desire
for her steadily growing to an erotic burn. Can he discover the cause
of her wariness and convince her to give him a chance?
The road to Gully’s Fall was long, the bitumen stretching out as far as the eye could see. Either side of the road was farmland, and not a lot of traffic to break the monotony.
Ash looked at the sheep near the fence on the side of the road. Gully’s Fall was miles from anywhere, which made it the ideal place to stop for a couple of weeks, see if she could get a job. See if she wanted to stay in the small town. If nothing else, it was thousands of miles from where she used to live.
Thunder rumbled overhead, the spring storm suiting her mood. Always the promise of something dashed by a hint of threat. She liked rain, but not right now. Not when she was stuck on the side of the road with a broken down car and no mobile phone after accidentally dropping it in the last town, where a car had run over it. Whoever said car parks were safe was wrong. Stupidly, she hadn’t bought another mobile so she had no way to call for help. Stupid stupid stupid.
Cursing silently, she removed her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. No traffic in sight, and even if there was, part of her was afraid they’d not stop to help and another part afraid that someone would stop.
God, would she ever get over seeing a threat everywhere she went?
Moving back to the front of the Magna, she looked helplessly at the engine under the open bonnet. It was just an engine to her, bolts, parts, rubber belt thingies. Before she’d left the city, she should have taken a crash course in mechanics or something, if there was such a thing. She’d checked the oil and water, all was well there, but apart from that she had not a clue.
Dumb dumb dumb. But then, worst things could happen – had happened, as she knew first hand – and worse things could happen again.
No sooner had the thought surfaced than she tensed at the sound of something in the distance. Something loud, powerful and noisy. As the sound grew nearer, she tensed even more, straightening to move to the side of the car and look in the direction from which it came.
Powerful engines, their roaring ripping through the calm, peaceful countryside.
Motorbikes, and more than one. Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she could see them now as they topped the hill from which she’d come over not twenty minutes ago. Four bikes, big and heavy, chrome shiny and catching the filtered sunlight peeking through the clouds. Four bikies dressed in black leather and helmets.
Her palms started to sweat, the instinct to run making her heart pound. Maybe they’d go past, maybe she wouldn’t interest them, maybe they’d be turned off by her build, overlook her plus-sized body. Attraction had to count, right?
No, it didn’t, and she had first hand experience to prove it. It hadn’t mattered then, and it might not matter now. She knew enough to stop fooling herself.
Fooling oneself was dangerous, stupid.
She could feel the fluttering of panic set in when the motorbikes neared, the instinct to run and hide strong, but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and if they wanted her the car windows weren’t going to stop them.
Sliding her hand into her pocket, she felt the reassuring presence of the tiny perfume bottle she now carried. The perfume spray could sting an attacker’s eyes, buy her some time. But against four bikies? Not going to happen, but regardless she could give back some hurt if they meant her harm.
Please God, please God…
She kept her hand there as the motorbikes slowed, indicators flicking on, the riders easily guiding the powerful machines to a stop not far in front of her car. Swallowing, she watched as every one of the riders kicked their stands down, but only one of the riders swung his leather-clad leg over the seat and got off, the other three staying on their bikes, flipping their visors up and talking to each other.
That was a good sign, right?
The bikie took off his helmet, running his hand through thick, brown hair that was carelessly tousled and just barely grazed the collar of his jacket. His face was clean shaven, she saw as he laid the helmet on the seat. Warily she took several steps back when the bikie strode up to her. He was tall, broad-shouldered, intimidating in his leathers, towering over her when he stopped to look down out of dark grey eyes. His face was all strong planes and square jaw, mouth firm, and authority exuded from him.
Authority, threat, he just plain scared her. Her fingers smoothed over the glass of the perfume bottle as she took another step back, coming up against the front of the car.
Those grey eyes studied her, not dropping below her chin which made her feel just a little better. Then he smiled slowly and reassuringly, the laughter lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling engagingly. “Car problems, ma’am?”
“Um…” She swallowed again.
“Bonnet’s up. Usually indicates car problems.” Moving forward, he looked down at the engine.
Immediately Ash stepped several feet to the side, her gaze flicking from the brown-haired bikie to the three still talking and back again.
Straightening, he looked at her, his gaze direct and understanding. “My name’s Scott, ma’am, and those three are my friends. We spotted you with the bonnet open and pulled over to see if we could help.” His eyes softened just a little. “Just to help.”
Just to help, but still strangers to her, and still bikies.
copyright 2014 Angela Verdenius