Holidays Ablaze by Lucy Limón EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Lucy Limón
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal Demons & Devils Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Sofia
I’m hiking along the snowy mountain, scanning for fallen trees when a
tremble moves through the air, shimmying the snow from the overhead
branches. It lands in soft splats around me. Ears perking, I pick up the low
rumble of an engine growing louder, getting closer, but how? The road is
closed. No one can get up here. A second later, a helicopter bobs over the
tree line. Its spinning blades chop the air as it speeds my way, then comes to
a stop. It hovers only meters away.
They’re lost. The Emberlight Resort is the next peak over on Mount BZB,
a luxury destination with a five-star hotel, powdery ski slopes, a flashy
casino, and most importantly, a helipad. This mountain, Mount Winter
Bliss, has none of that. I’d try waving them east, but I doubt they can see
me through the dense trees.
I’m about to dismiss the helicopter and its directionally challenged pilot
when a person falls out the side. ¡Dios mío! I gasp, my hand clamping over
my mouth. Through the trees, I see the body hit the frozen lake. An
ominous thud shudders across the snowy landscape. I don’t know if it’s real
or imagined, but I swear I hear the crunch of bones on impact.
My next thought? I hope it’s Ryan.
Morbid, I know, and if I were a better person, I’d immediately dismiss it.
But I hold on to the thought, breathing in the dark joy and sweet catharsis of
imagining the man who destroyed my future falling to his death. I suck it in,
then exhale and let it go.
Whoever it is, I better go see if they’re alive. The helicopter is a tiny
speck on the horizon. I’m guessing they’re not coming back for their fallen
passenger. I pick up the strap to my firewood-laden sled, cherry red with
silver bells on its nose, and start trudging towards the lake. I’d make better
time if I left it, but it’s easier to drag a sled to a person than a person to a
sled, and there’s no way that person is walking away from that fall. They’ll
need a doctor or a hearse, but all I have is La Roja, my trusty sled.
It’s not Ryan.
That much is obvious before I reach the edge of the frozen shore. There’s
no reason it would be, but I’m mildly disappointed, nonetheless. How do I
know? Ryan is not a demon (just a fucking asshole), and the man lying flat
on his back is one. His pronounced horns are an ombre of burnt orange to
golden-yellow, jutting out from his hairline and curving halfway back over
his head.
A tender concern blooms in my chest, and it draws me across the frozen
lake, solid this time of year. I imagine myself laying gentle hands on him,
whispering that he’s not alone, that I’m here, and I’ll take care of him.
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