Monthly Archives: April 2012

Fire in the Mountain (4)

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Set against the backdrop of an erupting volcano on New Zealand’s North Island, Lana wrestles with her recent grief, for survival on the mountain and her future with a man whose past she was once part of.  Woven through her narrative is Alfred’s story and the theft of war medals, and which Lana finds herself enmeshed in, further threatening her life.  Follow Lana as she tries to extricate herself from not only the mountain but her past.

Welcome to the fourth snippet of Fire in the Mountain

She wondered what had gone through Paul’s mind when he looked at her and saw tiny lines at the corners of her eyes.  Of course she had noticed them on his face but it was different for blokes.  It gave him an authoritative look – something she had no wish for her own lines to convey.  And of course his stubble disguised any feathering on his face.  She raised a hand to her cheek and with her fingertips gently dragged at the skin below her eyes fleshing away any signs of aging.  Did he search for the sixteen year old girl he had loved?  Did he wonder where she was and what she had become?  He had appeared at ease, infuriatingly so and she scolded herself as she remembered her blush and stutter.

Fire in the Mountain (3)

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Set against the backdrop of an erupting volcano  in New Zealand’s North Island, Lana wrestles with her recent grief, for survival on the mountain and her future with a man whose past she was once a part of.  Woven through her narrative is Alfred’s story and the theft of war medals, and which Lana finds herself enmeshed in, further threatening her life.  Follow Lana as she tries to extricate herself from not only the mountain but her past.

Welcome to the third snippet of Fire in the Mountain

She took a sip of the red wine, savouring its warmth before letting it slide down her throat to sit at the top of her belly.  Then into her peripheral vision a male figure paused behind the empty seat next to her and softly laid a hand on the back of her chair.  He bent his head and addressed her in a warm clear tone.

‘Hello Lana,’ said Paul.  ‘May I sit with you for a bit?’

Lana sputtered.  It was the voice she’d had such trouble with earlier in the day.  She clumsily set her glass down on the white tablecloth, barely registering that a drop or two sloshed over the side.  She stood quickly to greet him but was at a loss what to do next.  Kiss him on the cheek?  Hug him?  She shot out her hand.  He shook it firmly and held it for just a bit longer than was acceptable.

‘Well, Mr Harrington certainly remembers you,’ exclaimed Emma.  Lana wasn’t sure if it was a sneer or pleasure written on her face.  ‘Why don’t you introduce us?’

‘Hello Paul.’  She smiled at him.  ‘I really wasn’t sure if it was you.’