2017 Red Ribbon winner, The Wishing Shelf international book awards (Adult-Fiction).
A tattoo artist is pursued by the man of her dreams, but her biker-gang friends mistake him for a hit man out to get her.
It's 1995, and Galen Randall, the world'...
In seat 69B, Randall looked up from memorizing the emergency instructions card. He counted all the exits. He mentally measured the distances to each, determining the closest one. He tapped the oxygen mask compartment above him. He felt around under the seat for the life vest — leaning into Lou's lap to accomplish this in the tiny space allotted to their two-seat back row.
Lou sniffed his cologne.
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Then he pulled himself upright in his seat and stopped a passing flight attendant.
"Do you have any of those little bottles of liquor?"
"We're not serving at the moment, sir."
Lou said, "You smell married."
"I'm not. Trust me," he said over his shoulder. Then he concentrated on the flight attendant, even placing one hand unconsciously on her forearm. "Not serving? Why can't you serve? Turbulence! It's wind shear, isn't it! The pilot says it's too rough to serve drinks! We're about to be thrown about the cabin like rag dolls! That's why you can't serve, isn't it!"
"No, sir. We're not serving yet because we're still on the ground. I'll get you something the minute we're airborne." The flight attendant gently pried his fingers from her arm and moved up the aisle to assist other passengers. Sane ones.
Even though Randall was still staring at the flight attendant and not at his seatmate, Lou addressed him. "You say you're not married, but some woman definitely buys your cologne for you."
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"Ah, yes. She does. I don't have time to shop for myself. I can't believe they expect us to do takeoff with no anesthetic! What's that noise?"
Another flight attendant was passing their seat on her way to the rear galley, and Randall blocked her path by stretching his arm across the aisle in front of her.
"Do those engines sound normal to you?" said Randall. "Call the cockpit. If there's something wrong, we should be told now. We need time to make our peace with God, y'know?"
The wise flight attendant knew immediately: this was a time to bend the rules. "Why don't I get you something to drink while we're waiting? Just to help you relax. What would you like?"
