Happy Thursday, Friends!
We have a giveaway! Peggy Trotter is sharing an excerpt and offering a giveaway for her novel, The Secret Things. Read below to find out more!
About the Book
Deep in the Smoky Mountains…Secrets Abound.
Jerrica Rankin doesn’t know who she is. But she isn’t the woman in the wedding photo. So who is this stranger on her porch, gripping this incriminating picture? How will Jerrica conquer her panic attacks and prove her identity and get her life back?
Brock Langston buried his wife three years ago. But he finds her, deep in the Smoky Mountains, very much alive and denying who she is. How could she have forgotten their relationship and why didn’t anyone contact him? Is Jerrica really his wife? Or an imposter?
Jerrica indicated the small hole in the rock face of the mountain. Brock took a couple of steps forward before turning his gaze toward her.
“You kidding me?” His brows descended and he searched her face. “That opening is barely big enough for us to crawl in.”
“I told you to head back that way.” She dropped to her knees.
Perhaps she hadn’t thought this through. Her knee already throbbed. Yet she knew she could hunker through without using her wounded joint. His hand on her arm stopped her.
“You’re going in there? In the dark?”
“Go back, Brock.” Back to where you came from. She ducked and entered the dark tunnel. From the scuffle behind her, he followed close behind.
Jerrica knew just where she was going, despite the darkness. Once through, she rose and took a deep breath of the dank air.
“Where are you?” His voice echoed through the short tunnel.
She felt her way along the wall and located the rock alcove where she kept her flashlights. Her fingers fumbled through the choices, choosing one. Then she froze against the wall.
With the snatch of light from the small entrance, she could just barely make out his squatted form. He fumbled in his pocket for a moment and then flicked on his cell phone light. “I’m not leaving until I find you.”
Great. There was no ditching him. First he’d invaded the workshop, now her cave. She clicked on the flashlight. His gaze locked on her location against the wall.
“Hiding from me, weren’t you?”
He stood and cleared his throat as he took in the fifteen foot square cavern with the tiny beam of the LED light. “Look, I know you don’t want me in your life. But I’m not going anywhere. Can’t we just establish a cease-fire for now? At least until you guide me through this cave?”
“You could just go back.”
A low chuckle greeted her. “I’m not going to do that.”
She blinked at him in the low light. “Fine. A cease-fire.”
The limestone ceiling sparkled in the beams of the flashlights while the smell of wet stone filled her nostrils. Her gaze worked its way back to him.
He still stared at her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
Remorse filled her as she bent to locate another flashlight for him. She was anything but amazing. Fearful, yes, crazy even. Definitely not amazing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Not many people would have enough guts to gallivant all over the mountains and then squirm through that small hole.”
“I have like fourteen flashlights by the entrance, plus a lighter and a lantern. I don’t think that’s too brave. Here, this one is stronger.” She flung it at him.
He managed to catch it and flicked it on. “Still, you had to crawl through that dark tunnel for the first time, and that takes some guts.”
He would never say such a thing, if he only knew how afraid she was. Of everything. Literally everything. This place was her way of escape. Eluding people had become her main occupation. Over the last three years, she’d always convinced herself that nothing could touch her in the hills or deep in this cavern.
Her tongue ran over her dry lips while he continued to search the surrounding stone walls with his flashlight. Now, this stranger invaded yet another one of her private retreats.
She flicked the beam across the room to the columns of stalactites meeting stalagmites in a long skinny hourglass shape which framed the corridor that would bring them to the exit. Then she flicked the beam up. Thin white soda straws hung from the lowered ceiling near the columns. Dripping sounds echoed through the large room.
She sighed at the incredible things her Creator had thought to array here in majesty in the bowels of the earth. Despite her fluctuating reality, God’s creation remained still, glorious, colossal, yet healing. Being in God’s earth simply quieted her soul. “It’s peaceful here. Safe. Come on.”
About the Author
When Peggy Trotter’s not crafting or DIY-ing, she’s immersed in a story scene of some sort, always pushing toward that sigh-worthy, happily-ever-after ending. 2 kids, 2 in-kids, and 2 grands delight her life as well as her Batman of 35 years whose cape is much worn from rescuing his wife from one scrap or another.
Winner of the prestigious ACFW Genesis Award in 2014, she flip-flops from historical to contemporary to suspense, but always inspirational. But ultimately, it’s always about incredible characters and story lines that reveal God’s guiding providence and unending love.
Ms. Trotter is offering a giveaway to one lucky U.S. commentator. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter.