“Well where in the world do you get your ideas for your romance novels, Katrina?” The Mayor’s wife’s voice rang out.
“Yes Katrina, please do tell,” Carl rang in as he slyly eyed me.
If Carl Sims thought that he was going to put me on the spot and me not be able to deal with it, he had me pegged wrong.
This was right up my alley, “Well I draw my inspiration from various things, sometimes it just falls into my lap,” I taunted Carl.
At that point I directed my attention back to the Mayor’s wife, many times I get ideas working out, one thing for sure, my imagination stays in overdrive.
That was enough to pacify the table and they went back to their chatter.
“Yes Katrina, we will have to put that imagination of yours to use later,” Carl leaned in whispering.
I totally tried to ignore the man next to me and it would have been much easier, if it were not as if I was sitting next to an electricity surge, the man literally permeated intensity.
I rode in the car silent as the man sitting next me spoke Russian to his driver.
I could hear the rocks beneath the tires as he pulled into an alley and Carl made his way up to three men, one of whom was being held against the wall by the other two.
I could hear the man begging Carl, something about more time was all that I could make out.
Carl swiftly turned on the heel of his Italian leather shoes and made his way back to the car.
As we slowly made our way out of the alley he rolled his window down and spoke to the two men, “I said the hospital, not dead.”
At that point he pinned me in the seat and grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of my neck, “I want my diary back Katrina and if you ever reveal anything about me to anyone, you will not live to regret it.”
“Yes Katrina, I said that correctly!”
I squirmed as my voice screeched out, “You cannot leave that man back there, they will kill him.”
“No Katrina, they won’t, some people understand how to follow instructions unlike you,” he growled in my ear.
I inched my hand towards the door handle, bad neighborhoods did not scare me, I had grown up all over the world and there was not a whole lot that I had not witnessed before.
Right now getting out of this car was first and foremost.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he growled, as he wrapped his fist tighter in the handful of hair that he held.
I don’t know why that I said it, but it came out of my mouth, “I’ll be good.”
“Good girl,” he swooned.
“That’s a good girl.”
An excerpt from ‘The Diary.’
Available on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Suzanne-Steele/e/B00C9L6YRQ
©2014 Suzanne Steele