By Dana Cameron
Simply while every little thing goes superbly for archaeologist Emma Fielding -- a place at a revered collage, a gorgeous domestic in New England, and the nice and cozy love of a loyal husband -- her international starts off to fall apart. What starts as a sequence of likely blameless gestures -- the nameless supply of presents and plants to Emma's friends and family -- quickly progresses to mystery, sadistic acts designed to damage her recognition, her personality, and her occupation. somebody has instituted a brilliantly insidious crusade of private terror opposed to Emma Fielding, and she or he is bound she is familiar with who it truly is: a crafty and hazardous enemy whom all people yet she believes is useless. yet with out evidence, no clues, and no allies, Emma should struggle on my own at midnight to rescue a lifestyles being quickly lowered to ashes . . . if she will live on lengthy sufficient to take action.
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Extra resources for Ashes and Bones: An Emma Fielding Mystery
Thanks, uh, Derek. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your date night. ” He looked vaguely disappointed, but Mindy relaxed, and I knew I’d made the right choice. We continued on our way to our table, in the next section of the dining room. ” Brian asked in wonder. ” I gave Brian a look. ” “Well, yeah. ” “Yeah, except him. ” Something about having seen Derek gave us something else to concentrate on. There had been a detectable pall created by my fears about the flowers and Tony Markham—and Brian’s steadfast refusal to believe the package had anything to do with him.
Now, we’ve got five minutes left, and Mr. ” “Mr. ” Temple strode out onto the floor. ” The man who’d been leading the class before snapped to. ” Temple paused to look in the mirror, moved as if to make an adjustment to his hair, and then realized there was no improvement that could be made on perfection. Anderson smelled a rat, but answered smartly. “Yes, si—” He didn’t have time to finish the word before Temple spun around, dropped, and aimed a reverse round kick at his groin. Anderson hopped back sharply, blocked the kick, then closed the space between them, light on the balls of his feet and wary.
I found myself being pulled back enough to recognize…anger. If he knew what I’d have to go through, if I came back, he would never ask me to… “Em, come on, sugar, it’s only a dream. ” More sensations rushing back now. Dampness, but not sand. I felt the weight return to my body, the warmth of sweaty sheets, and cold air-conditioning. The wonderful bliss left me, even as I fought to hang on to it. I had been so close. “It was just a dream, babe. ” I could hear now, and I realized, once I opened my eyes, that I could see.