K. S. David lives in the Mid-Atlantic with her husband,
their three children and a menagerie of pets.
Working the soil was a source of comfort for Litha Adams. She liked to feel
the rich black granules slip through her fingers. She liked the sense of
accomplishment she felt when something as small as a minuscule seed erupted
from the earth to produce an edible crop or the vivid canopy of colors that lit
up the back wall of her estate. She had purchased Enchanted Island specifically
for that purpose. It was an eleven thousand square foot brick-front colonial on
ten acres, complete with its own private lake, which she kept well stocked with
ladyfish, spadefish, and Alabama darter.
The estate was a collection of steep
undulating hills, surrounded by ten-foot sugar maple, loblolly pine, and yellow
buckeye trees, which closed off visibility from neighbors and passersby. Once
you turned off the residential road, drove up the long shaded driveway, and
passed through the tall black iron gates, there was an immediate sense of
isolation. The vast green acreage, the colorful gardens, bubbling fountains,
even the man-made lake, was serenity for Litha and the few guests she allowed
at her home. The irony was that her quiet oasis was barely a heartbeat away
from the bustle of downtown Atlanta.
“Ms. Adams,” said a voice behind her.
Litha sat back on her heels, removed her lavender rose patterned garden
gloves, and waited for her assistant to continue. She rarely took time to do
anything for herself, rarer to work in the gardens. She needed a breather from
the chaotic treadmill of her life. Instead of hitting the office before sunup,
she decided to work from home and sneak in a little solace. She had already run
five miles and punched off a dozen emails before telling Courtney, her
assistant, to change her schedule. Courtney reported to the house instead of
the office and every appointment had been canceled, except one. Even that had
been re-routed to the house.
“You have a visitor. The guy didn’t give his name, but he says you know
him,” said Courtney.
Litha
twisted around and glared at her. “What?”
Courtney
shrugged. “He’s at the gate. He insists on seeing you.”
“Here?” confirmed Litha. “You’re saying some random man just drove up and
wants to see me?”
Putting her hand on her narrow hip, Courtney nodded. She wasn’t just
Litha’s assistant, but her closest friend. “Shaun has him at the gate. I
already spoke with the guy. I asked him to leave his name and a card and I’d
have you contact him, but he insists on talking with you himself.”
Courtney was impeccably dressed in a tasteful, mid-calf, ice-blue
sleeveless dress. She wore her hair natural, kept it cut low and perfectly
tapered on the sides and at the nape. A hint of red on the edges of her hair
set off her toasted-chestnut skin, which was flawless. She had high cheekbones,
full lips, and a sultry come-hither voice that made most men stop dead in their
tracks. She was also a closet comedienne, with a wicked sense of humor, who had
the ability to lift Litha’s mood no matter what was going on. But when Litha
looked at her, she didn’t see that spark of wit bubbling behind her dark brown
eyes.
“What does he look like?” She imagined some half-crazed man hanging from
the twenty-foot gates. There were dozens of charitable organizations always
chasing her down; ladies auxiliaries, educational funds, and church groups
inviting her to either speak to their masses, lend her name to their cause,
write a check in support, or all three. No one had ever tracked her to the
house. Litha had hired personal security eight months ago and kept a guard at
the gate twenty-four hours a day. She also had a man present in the house at
all times or by her side whenever she left.
Courtney considered the question and
shifted her iPad to the opposite hip. “If I may say so . . . he’s fine. He’s
well dressed. He’s driving an
Affalterbach.
Speaks well. He’s very clear about your association.”
Sighing, Litha slapped her hands together, sending up a small plume of
dust. She brushed off her jeans and pressed her hand against the front of her
t-shirt. “And he won’t give his name?” asked Litha.
“No. Shaun wants to know how you want to handle it. He’s ready to dial
9-1-1; he’s just waiting to finish the call.”
Litha looked back at her unfinished
work. She’d been planting larkspur and penstemon for added color in the garden.
Small black containers waited to be transplanted. “I’ll go see what the guy
wants,” she decided.
She and Courtney took a narrow cobblestone path that rounded the east end
of the home. As they stepped onto the paved driveway, Litha noticed the shiny
black car idling outside the gate. The heavy tint on the windows made it
impossible for her to see who sat in the driver’s seat. Shaun stood at the edge
of the guard’s house holding a cell phone.
The extreme security measures hadn’t been her idea, they’d had been put in
place at the insistence of Ed Mitchell, the Chief Operating Officer of her
company. He was afraid that the recent protest at the company could spiral out
of control. After weeks of cajoling, begging, and pleading, Litha finally
conceded to a personal escort, the fortress-like gates circling the property,
the armed guard, handpicked drivers, and the fleet of secured vehicles. Her
personal staff had swollen and been required to submit to extensive background
checks, polygraph exams, take basic training in selfdefense, sign rigid
confidentiality agreements, and had been taught to remain on alert at all times.
Litha agreed to all the changes even though they resulted in every facet of her
life being utterly and completely invaded.
A walk to Starbucks for an iced coffee was an act of defiance. Ed and the
entire team would spin into action, hustling about in a fury trying to find
her. When they did, they'd swoop in like a SWAT team to form a secure bubble
around her. Slipping away occasionally was her way of keeping her sanity,
retaining her independence, and proving to Ed that his concerns were
unwarranted. It was also her way of reminding all of them that she was the one
in charge.
Courtney slowed her pace then touched Litha’s arm to halt her. “I . . . I
don’t know about this,” she said. “Maybe it isn’t such a good idea. He didn’t
look crazy, but you never know.” Then deciding. “I’ll have Shaun just get the
guy’s name and number. He’ll have to be satisfied with that. Ed would kill me
if anything happened to you. The protocol . . .”
Litha
held out a hand. “Whoa. Stop.” She turned to Courtney. “Has
Ed
been harassing you about what goes on in my house?”
“Not exactly harassing,” evaded Courtney. She was uncomfortably aware of
the tension that had developed between Litha and Ed Mitchell recently. She
wanted to stay clear of it. “You know him,” she urged, “Ed’s all about rules
and has his ideas about how things should run.”
Litha sucked her teeth, crossed her arms, and said, “I haven’t abdicated
control of my life to anyone. If Ed Mitchell thinks any differently, then he’d
do well to remember who owns the company, who he works for and this
house. If I choose to walk to my gate, then I will.”
Not offended by Litha’s directness, Courtney pursed her lips, snapped her
fingers. “Alright, Boss Lady.” She stepped aside and pointed toward the
gate.
At their approach, the car door opened. Shaun’s hand swung to the gun on
his hip. “Sir, please stay in the car.”
Ignoring him, a tall, well-built man stepped out in a crisp, tailored suit.
He had skin like whipped dark chocolate, a broad regal nose, a firm jaw, and
narrowed eyes that went immediately for Litha.
She stopped. Her heart thumped in her chest so hard it hurt. In a quaking
breath, she huffed, “Shit.”
“You okay?” asked Courtney, protectively stepping between Litha and the
gate.
The
man closed the door, letting her see the full measure of him.
“Sir, please get back in the car,” said Shaun. “I’m going to have to call
the police if you don’t comply.”
“I’m fine,” said Litha, regaining her
composure.
She willed herself to steady and pinched her hands closed for a moment to
stop the shaking. Imagining herself a bar of unbendable steel, she stepped
around Courtney, walked toward the gate. Wrapping her fingers around the bars
and she stared at the man for a moment.
When the man took a step forward, Shaun pushed his hand into the stranger’s
chest and warned, “Sir, I’m serious. All I have to do is hit ‘send’ and I’ll
connect with the police.” He held up the phone.
In a voice that had turned cool and hard, Litha
said, “Shaun, put the phone away. Let him through.”
My Review
A strange little book. We have Litha, who basically decides to take a day off of her regularly scheduled life to stay home and then all hell kind of breaks loose. Which makes it sound more dramatic than it really is. It all starts when Ethan, who she left long ago, shows up mysteriously out of the blue. After steeling herself against his appearance things take a turn for the weird when she finds herself locked away as people begin searching her home and grounds for some kind of locked away treasure. That then forces Ethan and Litha to reconcile their past since they are conveniently together for such a long time. The book itself almost reads as a short story because it's only 173 pages and I was able to finish it within two hours easily. It's not a gripping suspense, and it won't keep you on the edge of your seat/can't put it down, but it's a decent little read if you are in the mood for something you can finish quickly, for sure. I thought it was OK, I'd give it 3/5 stars. I went in thinking this would almost be a teen book but it's definitely not because these are very much adult characters but the ending felt kind of... bleh? (Yeah, not a real world, but it's more of a sound I would be making, just go with it.) It's an OK little book. I would absolutely try another book by this author because there were sparks of potential greatness in this one, I think the author just didn't quite get there, but it's not enough where I would recommend you not to read it. Definitely give it a try if you want a quick book on a budget!
