GRANT ME THE MOON
By
Caroline Clemmons
Genre: Contemporary western romance
About the book
GRANT ME THE MOON won First Place in the International Digital Award for short contemporary book 2017.
All Tory Fraser intended was to show her high school history club students a local archeology dig. How could she know the excursion would involve a murder? Or that one of her students would be suspected as the killer? And she had no idea she would meet the man of her dreams.
Grant Grayson has taken over management of his family’s Grayson Ranch near Post, Texas to give his grandfather a less arduous schedule. A flash flood washed away an old talus slope on the ranch to reveal a prehistoric cave that is a Clovis site. Being a good citizen, Grant invited the nearest large university archaeology department to excavate the cave. When a gorgeous blonde high school teacher asks his permission to take her students to the site, how can he deny her? Especially when he’s instantly attracted to her as he’s never been to anyone.
Tory and Grant are drawn in to the investigation to clear her student but unintentionally make themselves a target. Now they must evade the killer to live and celebrate their new found love.
Excerpt
Tory answered the door. “Come in and say hello to Grandma.”
He stepped inside the Craftsman-style home. Mrs. Stafford was seated in an armchair by the unlit fireplace. She’d aged considerably since he’d last seen her, but her blue eyes still twinkled.
“Hello, young man. How nice to see you again.”
“I’m happy to see you looking so well, Mrs. Stafford. When you retired after I was in your class, I thought maybe I’d soured you for teaching.”
Her laugh peeled away years and she became the woman he remembered. “No such thing, as you must know. I had enough years to retire, so I did. My husband and I had always wanted to travel. We took some wonderful trips and created many happy memories.”
Tory leaned down to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Eat the dinner I left in the oven. And a salad is in the fridge. Don’t wait up for me.”
Mrs. Stafford swatted Tory on her rear. “Run along with you, Miss Bossy Pants. Have a nice evening, you two. I’m going to eat and go to bed as soon as my show is over, so be quiet when you come in.”
Tory grabbed her purse from a table, closed the door behind them, and tested the knob. “No cracks about locking the door. A house on the next street was burglarized last week.”
He grinned at her and cupped her elbow to guide her on the walk. “I didn’t say a word. By the way, they caught that burglar.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean he was the only one around. I want to be careful with Grandma.”
“You need to be as careful with yourself as you are with your grandmother.”
She stopped and stared at his Lincoln Navigator. “Oh, you have a different car.”
He shrugged but he was proud of his new car. “The truck is good for the ranch but this is nice for other times.” He opened the door.
This evening, she’d traded her business suit for a blue sundress and left her golden hair down, which he liked much better than the bun-like twisty thing she’d worn this afternoon. Instead of the killer heels she’d worn earlier in the day, she wore low-slung white sandals.
The forty-mile drive to Lubbock passed quickly with talk of archaeology and travel to ancient ruins.
As they entered the city, he asked, “Do you have a food preference?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want liver or Brussels sprouts. Anything else is fine.”
A laugh erupted from deep inside him. “I don’t like liver either. How about a steak house with a variety of food?”
“Your call, Grant, because I’m not familiar with what’s available. I’ve been reclusive this year. Except for school functions, I’ve spent evenings and weekends with Grandma.”
He chose a restaurant on 82nd Street and pulled into the parking lot. “Monday evenings are not especially busy, so we shouldn’t have trouble getting seated.”
He guided her inside and they were shown to a table.
After they’d placed their orders, he asked, “Your grandmother, is she all right?”
“Grandpa died last spring. She’s not ill, just frail and deeply in mourning. I was lucky there was an opening in the school.”
“Where did you teach before?”
She offered a wry smile, almost as if embarrassed. “Assistant professor at Texas A&M.” She shrugged and tilted her head. “I realize it appears I took a backwards step, but I was the one who could rearrange my life to move here. Fortunately, I genuinely enjoy teaching high school history.”
1 comment:
Sounds wonderful!
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