Tags:
Contemporary Romance,
paranormal romance,
civil war,
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INSPIRATIONAL ROMANCE,
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christmas romance,
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WWII,
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world war 2,
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rms queen mary,
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christmas carole,
nashville rising star,
squared circle,
the queen mary hotel
way out of a box full of shipping popcorn—nearly
impossible.
Glancing down at the
speedometer, I wonder when I slowed to thirty miles an hour. At
this rate, I’ll find myself stuck with no place to go. “I hate to
admit it, but DJ was right.” I have to get off and find a place to
wait out the storm. The sooner the better.
I’m not even sure where I
am at the moment. All the road signs are obscured by snow, and I
can’t make out any city lights. For all I know, there’s a power
outage in the area. Even the CB has been quiet for a while.
Everyone in their right mind is off the road and asleep in their
bunks. Everyone except me.
Licking my dry lips, I
reach for the water bottle just as a shadow bursts through the
snow. “Whoa!” Grabbing the wheel with both hands, I brace for
impact.
Shaking when none comes,
I suck in a breath as the tail end of a deer disappears into the
shadowy storm. “Stupid, fricking deer! Holy crap! If I wasn’t awake
before, I sure as hell am now.”
As the snow swirls in the
glow of the headlights, I figure several inches have fallen on top
of what may have been tire marks in the road. I don’t even want to
think when it was plowed last. At this rate, I probably won’t see
one until tomorrow.
The wind howls
continuously around the cab of the tractor and bangs against the
doors. With each new gust, the trailer slides slightly, giving in
to the force. The blowing wind sings a wolf melody, the howling
tune mournful—a beautiful yet deadly blizzard accompanied by the
music of the wind—Mother Nature’s way of easing the cruelty she
sometimes gives so freely.
Snow like this can play
tricks on a man’s vision. Even knowing this, when I see a figure in
the middle of the road, reaction takes over reasoning. White and
flowing, it moves toward me, and then silver-blue eyes bore into my
soul, making me yearn for sweet oblivion. In that swift moment, I
swerve, my mind screaming out the name of the woman who left my
world three years before.
Sandi!
* * * *
Guardian Angel Third
Class Cynamon Bedford watches in horror from her snow-packed seat
perched near the gates of Heaven the crash the phantom causes. The
cherry-red semi-truck’s tires screech to grab solid ground. Metal
crashes and crunches as the truck slides on its side across the
road. The screeching tears at her heart; the driver, Lee Thomas,
has a slim chance of making it.
The crumpled mass of
cherry red, a deadly contrast to the snow, lays in an L shape down
the slope between the road and a line of trees. The cab faces the
way it has just come from, cheery Christmas music fading in and
out, a maudlin contrast. The windshield shattered, glass is
scattered across the snow drifts. Snow quickly blankets the
wreck.
There is nothing she can
do. Helpless, she sits and watches as another life slowly
disappears from Earth. “If only they understood how precious their
time is, maybe the mortals wouldn’t be so careless with the gift.”
One silvery tear makes a slow trek down her cheek as she feels the
dying man’s pain.
“ Come now,
Cyn, truly you can’t be shedding a tear for one mortal after all
these years of watching them.” Abraham, the Supervisory Angel
assigned to keep Cyn in check, chuckles as he
approaches.
“ The man was
only trying to get home to his family.” She swipes at the tear and
tucks her emotions away. “His motivations were pure. If it wasn’t
for the phantom coming at him, he’d still be making his way to the
next stop for the night.”
“ Phantom? One
of our own? Surely you don’t mean to suggest...” Abraham stammers
from somewhere above her. He’s been here longer than she has,
watching life come and go each moment of each day.
Sometimes, she wonders
whether he’s lost compassion for the mortal world and focus. He
hadn’t sensed the phantom. “I most certainly am!” Cyn draws back
her shoulders, ready to defend her observation. “A white, flowing
figure went straight for him. What was he