Saturday, February 2, 2013

Story Saturdays: Time For A Swim

First, don't forget to purchase your copy of my ebook sale items. Me & Timothy Cooper (5 Star YA Romance) is only 99 cents until February 15th. MISSING and FOUND are both now $2.99 each. 

Building up toward the launch of my next novel, Love & Redemption, (out March 1st) here's another excerpt from the book. In this scene the female main character, Anne Sawyer, has gone for a swim at a local spring.

Can't get enough of this story? Check out all my other posts.

Take a trip into the past and fall in love with an Irishman. 

Anne flicked open the buttons of her borrowed shirt and tossed it to the shore atop the pants. Stretching her arms over her head, she reveled in the warmth of the afternoon sun. Her skin tightened as she leaped into the cold, clear water of the spring, raising gooseflesh along her arms. She emitted a squeal.
Lowering herself into the water’s clasp, she emptied her mind of the day’s troubles. This was her special place. Here, life was different, better. Here, her papa’s anger faded in light of the beauty around her. Her golden hair spread out in a fan, and tiny fish dancing on the water’s surface tickled her skin. Extending her fingers one by one, she watched their silver tails flicker in and out.
A bird called, and her gaze went upward to its angular shape traced against the white sky. Wings held aloft, head crooked sideways, the bird absorbed the sun in muddied feathers.
Her body cooled in the icy water, and she flared her palms upward, counting the ridges in her fingertips. Ducking her head below the surface, she swam into the spring’s depths. White sand and wavering grasses spiraled downward, ceasing only at the great crack split in the earth. Here, bubbles leaked from her nostrils, and she dug her fingers into the soil, delighting in the rush of water flitting over her flesh.
Starved for oxygen, her lungs burned, yet she remained, the cold water freezing her mind and chilling her limbs. At last, air expended, she kicked against the sand and arced toward the domed heavens. Its quivering reflection splintered as her head bobbed on the surface.
She gasped in the humid air, drawing cleansing gulps, and spread herself flat on the water’s surface, buoyant. Sunlight kissed her face, rendering her eyelids orange and casting yellow dots in her mind. Lightweight, suspended, she floated, the water shifting her where it will.
An hour later her flesh pruned and her hair spilled over her face, she emerged in the dying rays of the sun to dry. Sitting silent, she waited while blue shadows lengthened over the ground, and a cricket creaked an early song. Its drone melded with the satisfaction of her soul, and she curled up in the leaf litter, the encroaching night whispering her to sleep.
The snort of a horse jolted her awake. She glanced upwards into the thick tree canopy at the sun’s last beams. How much time had passed? Darkness enveloped the cove, casting eerie shapes into the water. Her gaze traveled along the edge of the spring and paused at the sight of a horse. Fully saddled, her snout dipped into the clear liquid, she drank greedily.
Anne rose to her feet, her state of undress forgotten, and brushed leaves from her hair. Who knew to come here? Her bare feet sunk into the moist soil.
The horse lifted her head, moisture dripping from her lips and plinking into the water in musical tones.
“What you doing here, girl?” Anne asked. She lifted her hand to stroke the horse’s muscular neck, and then her eyes met with those of a man. Mesmerized, she froze in place.
Green. His eyes were emerald green.
The damp air settled on her exposed skin, and trembling, she stumbled backward. A man. Here. And he’d seen her … naked. Her heel caught on a cypress knee, and she landed on the ground with a thump. She scrabbled toward her clothing.
 “Please,” the man said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She thrust her arms into the sleeves and fumbled with the buttons; they slipped through her grasp. She released them and reached for her pants. But the legs twisted together and off-balance, she fell against a tree. A whimper escaped her throat.

Check out the book trailer for the first 3 books in the series!


Suzanne D. Williams

Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

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