Savage Grace: A Sydney Rye Mystery: 12

I’m pregnant. Gripping the test in my hand, I can’t stop staring at the blue cross in the window. Tears roll, hot and slow, down my cheeks. I huddle in a low ball, emotion bowing me. My dog, Blue, whines and presses against my side, his warm tongue laving my cheek, his musky scent enveloping me. A familiar comfort . Will my child love Blue as I do? My phone vibrates on the bathroom counter, and I hiccup a sob. Squeezing my eyes shut, pressing more tears free, I hold my breath. Blood rushes in my ears, and my heart throbs in my chest…a tidal wave is washing me away. I can’t do this . The soft ping of a voicemail brings my eyes open. I’m staring at the cross again. Blue shifts closer, leaning his warm weight against me. As tall as a Great Dane, with the elegant snout of a collie, the markings of a wolf, and mismatched eyes—one blue the other brown—Blue means the world to me. My heart will have to make room for more . Fear slices through me, adrenaline flooding my veins and bringing another soft whine from Blue. Standing quickly, the adrenaline demanding action, I glance at my phone. Robert Maxim . He can’t know. My eyes trace to the trash can of the hotel bathroom. Wrap up the test and put it in there . But my hand won’t follow the advice. My fingers grip tighter, refusing to release the small wand of plastic. The proof . The truth. Grabbing my phone off the counter, I step back into the hotel room. Blue stays close to my hip, his nose tapping my waist once, a gentle reminder he is there. I shove the plastic wand into my bag, pushing it into a zipper interior pocket and closing it up. Locking it away. Just throw it out . I can’t . My hand strays to my stomach, and Blue’s nose swipes against my fingers. Vision blurred with tears, I stand in the center of the hotel room, my mind reeling. Lightning sizzles across my vision, and thunder ricochets inside my mind. I’m not cut out for motherhood . I know I’ll survive. It’s everyone I love who dies . That changes now . P.S. The dog does not die. **Beware: If you can’t handle a few f-bombs, you can’t handle this series.** —- ISBN: 9781694783578