Mystery/Suspense
Date Published: 5/12/2018
Publisher: Black Opal Books
Elisha Crimson thought her wedding day would be the happiest of her life. But losing her fiancé to two thugs in a dark sedan wasn’t part of the plan. She, along with the rest of the wedding party, can do nothing to stop the abrupt abduction, so she pursues at the first opportunity, navigating the West Virginia interstate in a white wedding dress behind the wheel of a pickup truck. But will she catch the sedan in time to save her one true love?
Ronnie Washington had known his past would catch up with him, eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to happen on his wedding day. He hates enclosed spaces, and now he’s bouncing around in the trunk of a car after being abducted from the ceremony. His only hope is to talk his way out, but the thugs don’t seem inclined to listen. He knows Elisha will come after him, but, even if she catches them, what can she possibly do against men like these?
Can these two unlikely heroes save the day, and the wedding, or is their life together over before it even starts?
Excerpt
Saturday, 2:45 p.m.:
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er long, white dress billowed around her. Mascara raced
down her face, her eyes frazzled, and a tear formed as she took off at a dead
run. Her brother tossed her his set of keys. She caught them in midair and
didn’t even break stride. She peeled out of the parking lot, as a spray of
gravel pinged a Mercedes, two BMWs, and a Lexus. Through the open window, the
wind whipped her hair. Her green eyes were fixed at a distant point on the
horizon. Her gaze was just a bit above the dashboard, as she slammed the pickup
truck into second gear. A string of curse words emitted from her lips and
smacked the wheel. The cup holder beside her held a plastic cup filled with
spit, and she picked it up now. Tobacco juice flowed from her lips, and into
its predetermined location.
Elisha Crimson flipped the air conditioner on high, even
though it was only sixty degrees outside. She honked her horn, gestured with
her free hand, and merged into the passing lane. A silver car swerved in front
of her, and she screamed and pounded the steering wheel in agony. This time,
she neglected to salute the idiot behind the wheel with a cell phone pressed to
his ear.
Her eyes flipped to her rearview mirror, and the sea of
cars behind her in an intricate rainbow of colors. The trail of cars resembled
a python, and the road in front of her was a never-ending façade of red
taillights. An accident loomed up ahead, so she slowed down. Two cars—neither
one moving—in the right-hand lane were both torn to shreds in twisted metal and
crumpled bumpers. Her mind raced, and adrenaline shook her right hand.
She grabbed the cup beside her and spit another glob of
juice.
She’d nailed second gear within five hundred feet of the
parking lot, and third came soon after. Fourth proved a bit more of a
challenge, but now that was behind her as well. Her lips moved at a constant,
steady pace, and the cup beside her filled quickly as well. The pouch stuffed
between the passenger seat and her own was a third gone.
She hadn’t smiled since this morning with her hairdresser
and sister in the same room, as her mother waited in the room next to hers.
Elisha flipped the radio low and her voice high. A rapper spoke about life in
the ghetto.
She held onto the steering wheel until her knuckles turned
white, and her joints ached. A song came on the radio that reminded her of him,
and she turned up the volume loud enough to rattle the frame. With the windows
rolled down, the sound traveled toward the trees on either side of the highway.
A motorcycle engine roared behind her, and she pushed the pedal all the way to
the floor. She smacked her lips and tapped her forehead. She kept thoughts of
her fiancé, her wedding, and the family she left behind to herself and slammed
down the lid. She discovered a ball cap within arm’s reach and thumped it on
her head.
She floored it around an old Porsche and a Mercedes with
custom wheels. She held one thought and then another—What would her family
think? How could this be happening to her? Was her fiancé okay?— collecting
them like stamps and compartmentalizing each one in her mind until such a time
when she could gather them whole and shove forward with her life.
She’d known Ronnie’s past would catch up with them one
day, but now was not the time for second guesses.
She kept one eye on the horizon and her goal in mind. Her
whole world changed when a car pulled out in front of her. She veered to the
left, the pickup nearly coming up on two wheels, the center of gravity shifting
with brute force. And then she shoved the pickup hard to the right, as the center
of gravity changed once again, and the whole cab moved and shook around her.
The wind whipped through with blazing speed, and her knuckles locked against
the wheel. She pinged to the right and careened to the left like a ping pong
ball through a maze.
Steam rose up around her, and she hoped it wasn’t her own.
She bit her lip and drew blood, and even managed to swallow a little of the
chewing tobacco. Coughing and gagging and sick to her stomach, she had no idea
how to continue onward. Only that she had to. If she failed, she couldn’t deal
with the consequences.
She had insisted on a big wedding filled with a dessert
buffet, two guitars, one ice sculpture, three photographers, and one deejay.
Had she scaled back, she might have found herself in a different predicament
than the one she currently found herself in the middle of. The voice on the
radio called her a liar.
She discovered love at eighteen when it bit her on the ass
and decided to hang around. The fucker, Ronnie Washington, had smiled at her, and
her knees buckled in the heat and humidity. Unable to string a coherent
sentence together for five minutes, she waited for him to walk away. But he
didn’t. Ten minutes later, he asked her out, and she said yes before she
gathered what remained of her senses. Six years later—the best six years of her
life—he still asked her out, the romantic bastard. Sure, the ups and downs
sucked, and he charmed her with all five of his senses, but dammit she loved
him anyway. She loved him with her entire body, and still that didn’t seem like
enough. Now, in her brother’s pickup, with her whole world abandoned at the
golf course, and her fiancé kidnapped in a black piece of crap with four
wheels, she shed more water beneath her eyelids.
If she failed to push forward with everything she had, she
never stood a chance at success. Sure, she had failed at almost every corner
and streetlight. Sure, failure pointed the barrel of its gun in her direction.
But failure didn’t stand a chance this time. She’d find a way to succeed, even
if it meant she exhausted every last possibility. Even if she didn’t have a
damn clue how she’d do it.
About the Author
Robert Downs aspired to be a writer before he realized how difficult the writing process was. Fortunately, he'd already fallen in love with the craft, otherwise his tales might never have seen print. Originally from West Virginia, he has lived in Virginia, Massachusetts, New Mexico, and now resides in California. When he’s not writing, Downs can be found reading, reviewing, traveling, or smiling. To find out more about his latest projects, or to reach out to him on the Internet, visit the author’s website: www.RobertDowns.net. THE BRIDAL CHASE is his seventh book and second novella.
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