Welcome once more to the midweek wakeup and smell the coffee time, #MidWeekTease
this week I'm teasing you with a peek into The Furnace Man, a Death Isle story, by my alter ego, Kera Faire, which should be out from Evernight in April
Don’t piss off the furnace man.
It might be a standing joke around the glass factory— he’ll mix you with the sand and burn you, leaving nothing left to discover—but Lindsey Earnshaw is about to find out the truth behind it.
Placed there to spy on the place on behalf of the government, a warning message brings forth not only a dead body, but also the one man she’s never forgotten.
Michael Hoult cannot believe his eyes, when his ex-wife turns out to be the receptionist on duty. Having to drug her in order to not blow his cover will not earn him her renewed submission, neither will whisking her away to the Death Isle.
Duty first, though. It cost him his marriage all those years ago, but with Lindsey now working for the same side, can they not only catch a killer, but also rediscover each other?
(pic, source pinterest)
And your tease...
Lindsey sighed and her breath tickled his palm. Michael lifted his hand warily as she smiled sadly. “I accept that you’re not cheating on me with a woman.” She half laughed. “Or a bloke, but it’s not going to change, is it? You are cheating me out of something. Whatever it is you do, and please grant me the intelligence to know it’s not just all whisky related, you’re not going to share it with me. That’s cheating in my book.”
He shrugged as if his heart wasn’t splintering into tiny little bits that bombarded him with pain. The sort of pain he didn’t know was possible to receive and still stay upright. “I can’t tell you anything. There’s nothing to tell.”
She shook her head and bit her lip. Her face was white, her expression resolute. “Really?” she said skeptically. “I’m sorry Michael. More sorry than you’ll ever know, but I can’t stay in a marriage where one of the partners isn’t open and honest,” she added, sadder than she thought possible. “I accept you’re not playing away, but you’re doing something you’re not sharing with me. I can’t live like that, always wondering, never sure. Hell you might be a spy or a bloody drug dealer, for all I know about it.”
Little did she realize. “I despise drugs and anyone who has anything to do with them.”
“So you’re a spy.’ She laughed and thankfully didn’t look at him. “That’ll be right. So Mr. Bond, go and make someone else’s life hell. I’m there already.”
He had a nasty suspicion he was about to join her, but he had to make one last plea for another chance.
“Lin…oh shit.” His phone blared out its insistent answer me now noise. “I’d better take this.” It had to be his proper boss. He recognized the tone.
“Yeah oh shit,” she mimicked. “Story of our life, eh? Your phone rings and you disappear. Well hey I’ll save you the need to think up a reason why a director of a whisky company has to go to Bora Bora or Tierra Del Fuego or wherever. I’ll go first, and not to there. Where I go will be up to me. And no, I won’t bother to tell you where or why either.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his three day old stubble. “I could say so long it’s been good to know you.” She swallowed and the noise was like a death knell to him. “But I’m not sure at the moment if that is true or not.”
Michael watched, silent and unmoving as she took one step back, then another, before she turned around. Her eyes glistened with tears and two red spots showed on her otherwise ashen cheeks.
“I did love you,” she said softly. “But it wasn’t enough, was it?”
Don’t go. But he didn’t say it aloud. What right had he to beg her to stay? In a marriage where he was away more than he was home, and he told more lies than truths.
Catch all the other #DeathIsle stories at Evernight Publishing here
and all the other #MidWeekTease posts here
love Raven x