Hey guys, as the end of my pregnancy approaches my inspiration and energy dwindles. This happened with my last pregnancy but fear not readers, the second Mr 3 was born my muse took over and I finished the first draft of WINTER WOLF in 8 weeks with a newborn! So lets hope for some muse magic once this little baby arrives too 🙂 But I have been working on a few things when the mood strikes and below is a small snippet of one such work in progress.

Happy reading XO

*Unedited and subject to change, Copyright (c) Rachel M Raithby 2017*

The sun peaked over the hill, its golden rays bleaching the forest, but she didn’t see the present, she saw the past. Her hand grazed the tree she sat in, the texture familiar yet from another lifetime. Dropping to the ground her knees bent absorbing the impact as she’d done a hundred times before. She’d lost count of the times she’d sat in the tree, waiting, watching as the sun made its appearance over the horizon. As another day begun, and she’d be reminded of impossible task ahead.

Descending the hill, memories flashed in her mind, feelings stirred in her soul. The way her fingers had dug into the ground as she’d raced for the tree. The strain and ache in her muscles as she’d pushed herself to breaking. To the point where her brain had only focused on the here and now. A clawing aching need for escape; it slivered over her skin as fresh as it had years before. The landscape had changed, the evidence of what once had been, forever gone, but in Lexia’s mind it would always haunt her. A part of her would forever be racing up hill, desperately seeking escape, when there was none to be had.

Dropping to her knees, her hands hit the earth, all evidence of war gone. Her head dipped and a single tear dropped, catching like dew on a blade of grass.

“Hello, Derrick,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “It’s been a while.”