Table Of Content
“Sure you don’t want to take me up on my
offer?” Jake’s teasing was old.
“You wish!” She huffed and stalked out,
forgetting to check the hallway first and banged
into a boarder walking by. A lascivious leer
devoured her, replacing the boarder’s previously
blank expression.
“Looking for customers?” He smacked his
bulbous lips, reminiscent of an overeager
suckerfish. “I just might be interested.”
Her shoulders drooped in disgust. “You are
soooo sickening.” She glared at him. “How about
you get out of my face before I ream you a new
orifice?”
Startled, the man’s mouth flew open as he
gaped in surprise.
Jake stepped into the hallway and lowered
his voice to sound ominous in the ensuing
silence. “The lady was just returning to her room.
I suggest you do the same.”
The hapless man barely glanced at his
threatening stance before he scurried down the
hall. Jake’s lips twitched. He couldn’t blame him.
He’d made the same offer more than once today.
But, damn, if she wasn’t a feisty piece of woman.
At least she hadn’t threatened to ream him a new
orifice— whatever that was.
“Thanks…again! Seems like all I do is thank
you for one reason or another.” Aimee hesitated,
appearing unsure. Her vulnerability stirred
deeper feelings in him, making him
uncomfortable. “I’ve had more creepy offers from
more creepy men in one day than I’ve had in my
entire lifetime!”
“If you keep running around in your
underclothes, it’s pretty much what you can
expect.”
He followed her across the hall. “Stay in there
and don’t answer the door, and if anyone bothers
you—scream. I’ll hear it.”
She slipped into her room and pivoted,
staring up at him. “Why are you helping me?”
Praise for P. L. Parker’s work...
FIONA: “She blends a romance to last
through eternity, it is absolutely timeless.
Impressible, implausible, and elegantly done, this
is one story that I don’t think I will ever forget!”
~Fallen Angel Reviews (rated 5 angels)
“From the dark, eerie prologue through to the
very unexpected ending, FIONA by P. L. Parker is
an engaging and eventful account of a life and a
timeless love.”
~The Long and The Short of It (rated 4 books)
“I have never read a time travel in which the
setting was so far back in time, and so it was with
great excitement that I started RILEY’S
JOURNEY. P. L. Parker did not disappoint!”
~CK2S Kwips and Kritiques (rated 5
cloverleafs)
Aimee’s Locket
by
P. L. Parker
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and
any resemblance to actual persons living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales, is
entirely coincidental.
Aimee’s Locket
COPYRIGHT (cid:211) 2009 by Patsy L. Buker
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever
without written permission of the author or The
Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles or
reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Angela Anderson
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Cactus Rose Edition, 2010
Print ISBN 1-60154-683-1
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To Ami, who opened the door and held it open,
and to my family and friends
for their understanding, support and forbearance
in reading the same thing over and over again.
Prologue
The large leather-bound book, now worn by
time and use, rested on the antique table. Her
stomach churning with dread, Sara Reynolds’
fingers lightly traced the tooled Oriental lily
adorning the cover. If what the old lady said was
true, Aimee’s life lay within those pages,
handwritten by her, and handed down through
the generations to be given to her family at just
the right moment. But how was that possible?
She gazed across the table at her parents,
David and Liz. Motionless, like grief-stricken
statues, they waited for her to begin.
With reverent fingers, she opened the musty
old journal, jumping as the binding cracked,
worried she’d damaged it somehow.
She picked up two dark squares. “Mom, Dad,
you have to look at these.”
They leaned nearer. Sara held up two old
tintype photographs. The first was of a young
woman, sitting at a desk, dressed in vintage
clothing. The young woman in the first picture
was a dead ringer for Aimee, a little older, but
with the same wide eyes and full lips. In the
second picture, the same woman, older now,
reclined on a settee. A handsome man stood next
to her, his hand on her shoulder, while seven
children of varying ages and sizes ringed the
couple—three boys and four girls.
Her mother stared, her face blanching white
in the meager light of the study. “She looks just
like Aimee. How can that be?”
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