Authors: Susan Kaye Quinn

Closed Hearts (36 page)

Susan Kaye Quinn grew up in California, where she wrote snippets of stories and passed them to her friends during class. Her teachers pretended not to notice and only confiscated her notes a couple times. She pursued a bunch of engineering degrees (Aerospace, Mechanical, and Environmental) and worked a lot of geeky jobs, including turns at GE Aircraft Engines, NASA, and NCAR. Now that she writes novels, her business card says “Author and Rocket Scientist” and she doesn’t have to sneak her notes anymore.

Which is too bad.

All that engineering comes in handy when dreaming up paranormal powers in future worlds or mixing science with fantasy to conjure slightly plausible inventions. For her stories, of course. Just ignore that stuff in her basement.

Susan writes from the Chicago suburbs with her three boys, two cats, and one husband. Which, it turns out, is exactly as much as she can handle.

If you enjoy the Mindjack series, you may enjoy the contemporary thriller
Untraceable
by S.R. Johannes.

The Nature of Grace – Book 1

“Grace is a spunky, independent, nature girl who doesn’t need a boy to save her. With wilderness survival, a juicy love triangle, and more twists and turns than a roller coaster, this fast-paced novel had me holding my breath until the very last page!”
-
Kimberly Derting
, author of the THE BODY FINDER series

“This thrilling story is a dramatic entanglement of mystery, deception and teen romance. The action flows like a brisk mountain stream interspersed with rapids, holding suspense to last page.”
-
Kirkus Reviews

16-year-old Grace was reared in the wilderness. Her first pet was a bear named Simon. Her first potty, an oak tree. And, her first swing, a forest vine. Grace has lived in the Smokies all her life, patrolling with her forest ranger father who taught her everything he knew about wildlife, tracking, and wilderness survival.

When Grace’s dad goes missing on a routine patrol, unlike everyone in her sleepy mountain town, she refuses to believe he’s dead. After finding a Cheetos bag and stolen government file, Grace is convinced she’s one step closer to proving all the non-believers wrong.

One day, while out tracking clues, Grace is rescued from imminent danger by Mo, a hot guy who has an intoxicating accent and a secret. Grace has never felt a connection like this before, certainly not with her ex-boyfriend, the adoring, but decidedly unrugged, Wyn.

After a few run-ins with the town’s police chief, her father’s partner, and some new evidence, Grace travels deeper into the wilderness that has always been her refuge only to learn that her father’s disappearance is not a mere coincidence.

Soon she’s enmeshed in a web of conspiracy, deception, and murder. And it’s going to take a lot more than a compass and a motorcycle (named Lucifer) for this kick-butting heroine to emerge from an epidemic that’s spreading like wild fire, threatening everything and everyone she’s ever loved.

Preface

Nature will talk to you if you listen. Every sound tells you something.

I know the exact moment I went wrong.

Three weeks, two days, twenty-two hours, and thirty-three minutes ago.

I had no clue a few small decisions could puncture the thin bubble of my perfect world.

I zigzag through the forest’s brown pillars like I’m barreling in a local rodeo. The internal rhythm keeps me running at a steady speed along the broken path.
Left, right, left, right.
My muffled breath echoes in my ears, making me feel as if I’m underwater. Sinking. Drowning.

Don’t stop, Grace, or you will die.

I veer off the main path and into the arms of the darkening woods. Gnarled branches, shaped like broken fingers, comb my hair and scratch my skin. I fight against a clump of twisted vines grabbing at my ankles. Jerking. Pulling. Ripping. The rhythm of my running becomes choppy and uneven as I sludge my way through the curled tangles of vegetation. My lungs sear from the lack of oxygen. Burning.

Just soon as I round a corner, I slip behind a mammoth oak to catch my breath. A brown rabbit scurries by me and disappears into the safety of a prickly bush, giving me hope that maybe I can escape too.

My eyes dart around, searching the monotonous woods for a way out. I need to calm down. Can’t lose it now.

My chest rises and falls as my lungs finally pull in enough oxygen to settle my nerves. Pure air sweeps through my body like the dry wind over a starlit desert. Blowing away the doubt, and erasing any trace of fear. Everything Dad’s ever taught me about wilderness survival comes flooding back.

Suddenly, I know exactly what to do.

Examining my GPS watch, I pinpoint my coordinates and map a way out. After assessing the area, I tiptoe out of my hiding place and backtrack down the trail, careful not to disturb anything that will give away my position.

I disguise my tracks all the way back to Dead Man’s Cliff. After securing my backpack, I clutch onto the cragged rocks and scale the steep wall, careful to place every toe and finger just right. My palm hits a sharp edge and begins to bleed. Both arms begin to spasm from the strain. My toes cramp underneath my weight as they press against the tiny ledge. I creep up the steep rock like a lizard, careful not to send a shower of rocks or crumbling dirt onto the path several feet below me. My arms quiver, threatening to numb.

At the top, I fight against all the pain and summon every last ounce of strength I have to pull myself over the ledge. Instantly, I roll onto my stomach and flatten against the cool dirt, scanning the horizon. The sun punches through the thick canopy, dotting little amoebas of light along the forest floor. I listen for the slightest sound and search for the tiniest movement.

Nothing.

As a wildlife enforcement officer, Dad believes the woods will talk to those who are still enough to listen. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the space around me.

Listening. Waiting. Afraid to breathe.

A light breeze slithers through the ghostly forest. The leaves rustle and the trees hiss, whispering secrets to each other. The forest appears to exhale then hold its breath. It’s as quiet as a graveyard at midnight. Nothing scurries, burrows, or twitters. The trees stop swaying and freeze, as if they’re hiding too. Then I hear it. The distant snap of a random twig.

The hair on my neck bristles. They’re still after me.

Want to know what happens to Grace?

Available at
Amazon
and
Barnes & Noble
in eBook ($2.99) and paperback ($9.99), as well as Apple iTunes, Sony Kobo, and
Smashwords
. Signed copies available from the author at
[email protected]
or visit her web site at
srjohannes.com