Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries)

whoomph and the air was knocked out of me. Something sharp had pierced my leg, but I barely noticed, my eyes wide and unfocused as I focused on getting my breath back.
    “Ouch,” I croaked out.
    The growls intensified and the window shook as the beast rammed its head over and over against the glass. If that was a dog, it was unlike any kind I’d ever seen before. Unless you counted Cujo.
    I inhaled air painfully into my lungs and rolled to my hands and knees, looking around to make sure no one had witnessed my latest disaster. Granted, I’d gotten better at my job in the last few months, but that was probably along the same lines as telling Forrest Gump he was being promoted to remedial math.
    The beast kept ramming its head against the window as I got to my feet. I gave it the middle finger because it made me feel better, and then I turned to head back to my car I’d left parked in a ditch near the marshland about a hundred yards away. My leg throbbed and blood coated the bottom part of my jeans. Good thing I’d already had a tetanus shot.
    The growling and head butting stopped as suddenly as it began, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was short lived, because the door of the trailer shook with a mighty force as the beast rammed against it. Apparently, he didn’t like being flipped off, because his determination only seemed to intensify.
    I shook my head in pity at his stupidity and kept limping in the direction of my car. The trailer house doors were reinforced just like the windows, and there was no way that dog was breaking through. Noogey was definitely hiding something inside that trailer.
    I heard a yelp and then silence, wondering if the dog had knocked himself out, and then I heard a different kind of noise. One resembling a can opener peeling back a metal lid.
    “Oh, shit,” I said, staring wide-eyed as I realized what the beast was doing. Maybe he wasn’t so dumb after all.
    The doors and windows to the trailer were reinforced, but the trailer wasn’t. Teeth ripped through plastic siding and insulation, and I saw the metal on the outside of the trailer bulge and bend grotesquely, reminding me weirdly enough of when the alien was trying to burst out of Sigourney Weaver.
    I started to run, the adrenaline and fear masking the pain my body was in, and I didn’t look back as I heard the metal give. Vicious barks and snarls gained on me with alarming speed. My car came into view—an old white Volvo that had about 300,000 miles on it.
    I’d left the windows down because the air conditioner didn’t work and I was tired of the cracked leather seats cooking my ass. I’d never been so grateful to see that stupid car in my whole life. I dived head first into the open window and turned back to roll it up just as the beast hit the side of my car.
    Seeing him in his entirety was completely different then seeing his head through a window. He was the size of a horse and built like a monster truck. His fur was black with blotches of brown and gray and his paws were the size of dinner plates. It was safe to say the beast hadn’t been neutered, considering he was half sprawled on my hood, humping the shit out of my side view mirror while he tried to eat his way through the metal to the inside of the car.
    He changed positions and the passenger door caved in under his weight. I was trapped inside the Volvo oven, paralyzed with fear. Slobber and snot coated the car window, and all I could see was miles of snapping teeth and beady black eyes I’d see in my nightmares. My hands shook as I dug out the keys from my pocket, and it took me three tries before I was able to get the key in the ignition.
    The car started easily, and I rammed it into drive, peeling out in a cloud of dust as I kept my foot on the accelerator. When I looked through the rearview mirror, the beast was still standing where I’d left him, his eyes intent on my car. With my luck, he was probably memorizing my license plate.
    I rolled my windows back down to let the hot air out and decided I really needed a beer. Maybe a lot of beers. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a drive-through beer store in the Savannah area. I was in no shape to go in anywhere. I’d have to settle for ice cream.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    Liliana Hart is the USA Today Bestselling Author of more than twenty books, including the popular MacKenzie Family Series. She lives in Texas with her husband and cats, and loves to be contacted by readers.

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