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Title: The Outpost
Author: Devney Perry
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Trapped in his tiny mountain cabin, she didn't expect to fall for his big heart.
Exposing a prominent criminal family with an investigative news report didn’t exactly work out the way Sabrina had hoped. Instead of basking in the glory of her article’s success, she’s on the run from a powerful man who wants her dead. To stay safe, she’s forced to trade one bad situation for another. Stuck in the Montana wilderness, she’s secluded from anything resembling civilization or the modern-day world. The only good thing about her situation is the gorgeous mountain man assigned to protect her. Too bad he isn’t the slightest bit interested in a city girl like her.
Beau likes his life quiet and simple. Give him a peaceful day hiking in the woods with his dog, and he’s a happy man. He has no use for large crowds, noisy cities or dramatic women. So when a hotshot reporter rolls into town, dragging her big-time problems with her, he should have run for the hills. Instead, he volunteered to keep her safe. Bringing her into his world won’t be easy, but if he can convince her that Montana isn’t as terrifying as she believes, they might just be the perfect match.
“I can’t stay here.”
“I know it’s not much,” Beau said, “but we’ll make it comfortable for you.”
Not much? Talk about the understatement of the century.
The overhead lamp cast a dim glow through the open room but I could see enough to know that I’d never be comfortable here. Beau’s footprints were visible in the thick layer of dust coating the floor. Every one of his steps sent echoing creaks and squeaks through the uneven floorboards.
On my left was a small kitchen circa 1972. The pea-green counters clashed fantastically with the mustard-yellow refrigerator and stove. Dead-fly carcasses were scattered across the counters. The fridge’s door was opened slightly and there were suspicious brown droppings in the bottom.
In the back corner was an old, black wood stove with a pile of wood blocks at its base. Next to it was a log chair that looked about as comfortable as sitting on a gynecologist’s exam table with your feet in the stirrups. Besides the chair, the room was empty.
“If you need to use the bathroom tonight, you’ll have to go in the biffy,” Beau said. “I’ll get the well pump running in the morning so the water works.”
“Biffy?” I asked.
“Oh my god.” I was going to faint, and if not for the fear of touching the floor, I would have. I had walked right into my own personal hell. Prison inmates were given better accommodations than this. I didn’t know whether to start laughing or crying.
In a nightmare flash, I pictured myself in six months, wearing the same clothes I was in now. My hair had become ratted in dreadlocks and I had befriended the mouse that came in and out through the gaping holes in the dirty floorboards to share my moldy bread.
“I can’t stay here,” I repeated, my voice cracking.