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About the author:
Originally from Kansas, Sara Vinduska is a romantic suspense author and aspiring farmer in North Idaho. Her other passions include yoga, soap making, good red wine, and K-State football.
What inspired you to write your book?
This book started as a dream. When I woke up, I knew I had a story to write.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Trent Barlow smiled as the first rumbles of thunder echoed overhead. His feet pounded the trail, and his lungs worked rhythmically as he fixed his eyes on the hill fifty feet ahead. The late summer air was heavy and wet with the coming rain. He figured he had thirty more minutes before the rain started and wanted to make the most of it.
He crested the hill and slowed his pace. A small person was bent over, hands on their knees, just off the main trail. A woman. Maybe she was hurt or needed help. He pulled up and stopped alongside her. “You okay?” he asked, breathing hard.
He recognized her face the instant she stood, though he hadn’t seen her in over twenty years. The shock of seeing her now felt like a punch to his gut.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked. He wiped sweat from his forehead and tried to slow down his breathing.
The woman smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Waiting for you.”
Trent wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “How are you?” he asked, looking down at the ground.
“I haven’t been well since Ed died.” Her cold eyes met his.
Trent swallowed hard. “Caroline –”
“Just shut up, Trent.”
Her words hit him like a blast of heat and he took a step back in surprise at the force of her anger.
“I’m going to need you to come with me now,” she said.
“Look, I’m really sorry for whatever you’re going through and if I can do anything to help, let me know, but I need to get going.” He looked up at the darkening clouds. “You should get going too. Storm’s going to be here soon.”
“It’s already here,” she said as a tall, stocky, blond man stepped out from behind a tree. The man held a shotgun in his hands, the barrel aimed squarely at Trent’s chest.
The gravity of the situation hit hard. Adrenaline spiked his heart rate and his stomach contracted. But he faced life or death situations every day on his job. He could face this. The situation wasn’t out of control. Yet. He could still diffuse it. He looked from one of them to the other. “Caroline, let’s talk about this,” he said in a steady, calm voice.
“Sorry Trent, I’m all talked out.” She nodded at the line of trees as the man with the gun stepped closer. “Move.”
He didn’t have a choice. Even if he took off running as fast as he could, he couldn’t outrun a shotgun blast. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.
“Yes, I do.”
The man racked the shotgun.
Trent started walking.