Westwind Secrets

The door slid towards them like a freight train. One huge leap and they were clear with inches to spare. Icy water filled her white, leather sneakers and seeped into her denim jeans like kerosene rising in a wick.

Unconsciously, Harry sought the sensation of his trusty companion tucked against back. The semi-automatic was like another appendage.

Hearts are healed by the sea.

The emotional rollercoaster she was riding was taking another downhill run.

The boats raced towards each other like mounted knights bearing lances. They would hit like Somalian pirates, swiftly and under the cover of darkness.

The haughty bitch puffed up like a rooster ready for a fight.

Reality smacked like a bucket of ice water.

Emotions clouded his judgment and made the tightrope of deception more dangerous.

The room was an oasis in a desert of depression.

Cornered, Will punted. He had worked in a cut-throat world long enough to know that he would get the ball back and score.

If the old lady were fifty years younger, she would deck her.

A lone, dark-skinned foreigner would raise a red flag. The cops would never admit to racial profiling, but it is real in this lily-white neighborhood.

His steely stare turned her knees to jelly, exposing her feigned bravado.

The winds were howling out of the Northeast as the sport boat pitched and rolled in the angry sea. The driving rain went unnoticed as the waves crashed over the bow and top of the cabin. Radar and GPS saw what human eyes could not.

Harry wanted to knock a few teeth out of the artificially straightened set, but he resisted the urge.

Mohan’s wrath was like a tornado, unpredictable and devastating.