Low Tide Bikini (A Pleasure Island Romance) (35 page)

The tiny woman snagged the binoculars away with a giggle and held them up to her eyes. "Oh my word, yes. He's a looker. If that ostrich don't kill him, we're gonna have fun with this one. Ouch. That had to hurt. Poor baby, Myrtle will kiss it and make it better. Don't you worry." She looked up at Louise and smiled. "He sure has a nice ass, don't he?"

Mazy couldn't help but look in the direction the ladies were gazing. Smoke. Damn. Had the bounty hunter caught the field on fire? "Holy Crap!" She squinted to make out more details.

"Hey, Mazy. Come on up for a look. The fire's nothing to be too worried about. Too much sand for it to spread too much. We already called the fire department. You gotta see this hot man being chased by one of Carl's ostriches." Louise's voice was filled with amusement.

Myrtle giggled. "He thinks he can outrun it. He ain't local, that's for sure. Everybody 'round here knows you can't outrun an ostrich. Ooo boy, but he sure is trying. We ought to give him a gold medal for fastest sprint." She lowered the binoculars and batted her eyes, as if she were having trouble refocusing, then she made eye-contact with Mazy. "You know him?"

Mazy shook her head. "I haven't met him. Well, not exactly. I kinda led him into the field, though."

"What did you do that for? Carl don't like people driving through the farm." Myrtle scowled.

"I know, and I had no idea the jerk would start a fire. How he managed to do that is beyond me."

Louise took a step toward Mazy and motioned her to come closer. "You look like you got something serious on your mind."

These two old women had a knack for reading Mazy, always had. Seemed they had some kind of sixth sense about things. Earl jokingly said they were witches with the power to read minds. The power to get people to confess all is more like it. Since childhood, Mazy had laid her problems at the feet of these two women. They were like family to her. She didn't have any living grandmothers, but she had Louise and Myrtle, and she was glad of it. After her mother passed away, she needed them more than ever.

They'd offered comfort and guidance to Earl too, and they'd want to know what was going on with him.
 

 
"Y'all, Earl is in trouble again. Big trouble. That guy in the field is a bounty hunter." Mazy's hands began to shake. She still hadn't come to terms with the idea of Earl in hot water with the law, much less being labeled a killer. "Somebody framed him for larceny, and word has it they're trying to frame him for murder. He jumped bail."

Louise gasped. "Murder? That's a load of bullshit. Earl may not be the brightest, and he may have gotten himself mixed up with some scoundrels back in the day, but he wouldn't hurt a soul."

Myrtle sat the binoculars down on a nearby table. "Who in their right mind would even fall for such a lie? Hell, you don't have spend more than ten minutes with the boy to know he ain't the kind to take a life. You just tell us how we can help."

Mazy walked over to the table and picked up the binoculars. She zoomed in on the bounty hunter. His head was bleeding and the ostrich looked like it was about to go in for a lethal peck. "Oh God. I didn't want him dead."

"Who? The bounty hunter?" Louise asked.

"Thank God. Here comes Carl. He'll settle the bully bird down." Myrtle seemed confident.
 

Mazy hoped she was right. Whew. She was. The bird walked off.

Mazy gave the ladies her most pitiful look. "We need to stall this guy as long as possible so Earl can put some distance between them.
 
I was hoping y'all would spread the word. If we work together, I'm pretty sure we can think of ways to keep him here for a while."

"I wouldn't mind seeing him hang around. He's mighty fine." Myrtle waggled her eyebrows. "Consider it done."

Mazy peered into the binoculars just in time to see the SUV blow sky high. Her mouth fell open.

"He ain't going nowhere anytime soon, now." Louise laughed.

Myrtle slapped her thigh. "I'd say your problem just solved itself. I'll get ahold of Carl and see what we can do to detain this fella for a while. How long do you think Earl needs?"
 

Mazy tore he eyes away from the explosion and met Myrlte's gaze. "I don't know really, but let's start with a couple of weeks. That ought to be long enough for Earl to get the information he needs. If not, we'll go for longer."

A fire truck, a couple of police cars, and an ambulance drove onto the field. Luckily, the blazing grassy area was surrounded by bald patches of sand, and the fire hadn't spread too far. Nowhere near the woods. It'd be easy to put out.
 

Mazy couldn't help but feel relieved the ambulance had arrived. The bounty hunter had taken quite a hit on the head. The back of his shirt and collar were stained with blood, not to mention his face. The poor man looked like he'd endured a serious butt-kicking, and she felt responsible.
 

She had to admit one thing though. Myrtle was right. He did have a fine ass. Mighty fine.

<<<<>>>>

Dear Reader,

This is my first book EVER! Woohoo! It feels otherworldly to see this dream come true. I’m getting choked up just writing this. I’m not kidding. Wow.

If you enjoyed this book, anything you can do to spread the word would be greatly appreciated. Amazon reviews, Goodread reviews, tweets, telling a friend about the book, all of these things are like gold to a writer. I’m an unknown. Whatever you can do to help get my name out there so other readers can find my work would be awesome. Other readers? Holy cow. I have readers. You’re one of them. I’m giddy. I’d love to connect with you.
LylaDune.com

Rip Tide Bikini
(Mazy’s Book) will be released March 18
th
, 2014. I’ll post update info on facebook, my website, twitter, and in my Newsletter. I’ll be doing giveaways for people who sign up for the Newsletter (hint, hint).
 

Thank you for reading. Without readers like yourself, I’d be sad, my book - the little old lady in the nursing home no one ever visits. Because of you, I’m smiling, and my book’s smiling too. We both think you’re awesome.

Your new friend,

Lyla Dune

Author Bio

Lyla Dune has taught music for eighteen years, played saxophone and clarinet in numerous orchestras and ensembles, taught piano, written songs, and repaired more musical instruments than she can recall. Yes, in case you’re wondering, you can fix the rotary valve on a student’s french horn with a paper clip and a rubber band three minutes before the kid’s horn solo at Lincoln Center.
 

How did Lyla become a writer? A few years ago, she stumbled across a poetry forum online and dabbled in poetry for kicks. She became a word junkie. She’s published poetry, flash fiction, and short stories in many different genres.
 

She lives on the coast of North Carolina with her husband, Gary, and her cat, Miura. One day, she’d like to have a pet ostrich. She’d name it Robirrrda, of course.

Acknowledgements

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the people who have made this book possible.
 

Without the support of my wonderful husband, Gary, I would have never been able to quit my job and devote my time to writing. He has sacrificed a great deal, listened to me blather on at length as I worked through the plot, and taken me to conferences and workshops so I wouldn’t have to travel alone. I could go on and on about the many ways he has helped me achieve this dream. I write romance, but he is my real life hero. And because of him, I’m living my happily ever after at his side. The BEST place on earth. Sorry folks, that seat’s taken.
 

I’d like to thank my father for his support throughout this endeavor and throughout my life.
 

To my wonderful friends who have critiqued anywhere from one chapter to the whole novel, I say thank you, Joy Avery, Lena Pierce, Marcia Abercrombie, Laura Web, Suzanne Grosser, Linda Cross, Linda Thomas, Chris Hauge, Jim Collins, Summer Kinard, Molly Schoemann-McCann, Kate Parker, and Merry Simmons.

A heartfelt thank you goes out to Whitney Belisle, the best Beta Reader ever. Not everyone can go to the dentist for a root canal and walk out with a Beta Reader.
 
I’m lucky like that. She gave me a crown. I gave her a gift certificate to buy books. Wait, something seems unbalanced about that. Maybe I should have given her a tiara instead. Good thing Christmas is right around the corner.
 

I’d also like to thank Graeme Reynolds for his guidance about self-publishing. His advice has been more valuable than he may realize. Honesty is hard to come by. Graeme tells it like it is, and that’s one of the many reasons I seek out his opinion.

I can’t forget to thank Mary Desantis for editing the first eight chapters and for contributing the name of Robirrrda for the ostrich. The book wouldn’t have been the same without Mary’s help. I can’t imagine Robirrrda being called anything else.
 

Jason Frye of Teakettle Productions edited the entire novel quickly, thoroughly, and he even gave me a discount because he was able to do it faster than he expected. Have you ever heard of an editor doing that? Wow. Yeah. I’m going to him again, and I encourage you to check him out if you’re looking for such services. But don’t fill his schedule up too much, I hate waiting in lines.

Through the years many people have played a part in my development as a writer. Even though this is my first book and I’ve only scratched the surface, it’s taken me several years to get to this point. To all my writing buddies on Zoetrope and other online forums I’ve frequented, I extend my thanks to you as well. You were my teachers and mentors. Without your assistance early on, I never would have thought writing a novel was something I could do.