Ice storm by anne stuart7/1/2023 ![]() ![]() He still wasn’t moving, and she could see a pool of blood gathering beneath him. She put the heavy handgun into it, noticing that her hands were shaking. She still had her backpack over her shoulder, which struck her as slightly crazy. Maybe you could take the gun with you, just in case. Maybe you could drop the gun, turn and run, as fast as possible, before he suddenly stood up and came after you, before one of his buddies came running to see where the noise had come from. She’d had every reason to shoot him, but you couldn’t very well let a man bleed to death, could you? she thought dazedly. Had she blown a hole through his head? His chest? Was he dead or just wounded? She knew she ought to check…. She wouldn’t look at him-he was down, unmoving, and there was nothing on this earth that would make her walk over to him and see what she’d done. ![]() Her hand and arm tingled with the recoil, and she could smell the cordite, the blood. She’d never fired a gun before, and the feel of it in her grasp was disturbing. ![]() Mary Isobel Curwen had never shot a man before. ![]() Jane Dystel, and to my splendidly appreciative editor,Īnd a much-belated thank-you to Lynda Ward, who’s With huge thanks to my fabulous wizard of an agent, ![]()
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