Camaro 0.1 and 0.2 - Sam Hawken - [EPUB][N27]seeders: 4
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DescriptionCamaro Run: (Camaro #0.1) by Sam Hawken English | EPUB | ASIN: B00DJ5AOIG January 6, 2014 | ten eighteen press  Mystery, Thriller & Suspense CONTENTS 24 Chapters Excerpt: Camaro Espinoza rode out of the desert into Las Vegas on the back of a Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail Classic. It was painted bronze and black and had a Twin Cam 103 that rumbled and skipped the way Harley engines do. Two leather saddlebags hitched up over the rear wheel, mostly empty, and she wore a t-shirt, jeans and wraparound sunglasses as dusty as the black half-helmet planted on her head. Honey brown hair blew loosely in the wind. People looked at her when she rode past. She turned onto North Las Vegas Boulevard and went a few blocks east until the sign for the Gold Spike came into view. In the parking lot was a letter board that advertised food specials from $1.99. A backhoe was tearing up a section of the lot while men in bright yellow construction vests watched idly from beneath hard hats. When Camaro swung a leg off her ride, their eyes turned her way. She got a bundle of clothes out of saddlebag and she felt them watching all the way as she walked the last fifty feet to the building. Inside it was dark and cold and the skin on her arms prickled. She passed through the casino and its rows of slots until she reached the hotel part of the building. No one was being helped at the front desk. Camaro walked up and put her wallet on the counter. Crossfire: (Camaro #0.2) by Sam Hawken English | EPUB | ASIN: B00E2EFWDU January 6, 2014 | ten eighteen press  Mystery, Thriller & Suspense CONTENTS 24 Chapters Excerpt: Camaro Espinoza rode a Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail Classic east on Interstate 10 from Lafayette, Louisiana toward New Orleans. Strapped to the pillion seat behind her was a black leatherette bag with nearly two million dollars of cash inside. They were $100 bills and the bag weighed forty-four pounds. They were heaviest forty-four pounds Camaro ever carried. The highway passed through the heart of the Atchafalaya National Wildlife Refuge, and on that belt of road the evidence of civilization slipped away almost completely. In its place were deep wells of water-sodden landscape thick with trees, complex with green-skinned stretches of rich water that teemed with water moccasins and snapping turtles and the occasional gator. The sun was filtered away in that wilderness, but it came through the open window of the road and spilled down on Camaro as wind whipped her hair away from her shoulders. She was beyond the refuge and almost into Baton Rouge when she stopped for gas at an old station planted on the side of the road like one of bayou’s ancient growths. A rusted Texaco sign dangled from a metal upright and the prices on the board said they were for cash customers only. Credit card users had to pay more. Camaro owned no credit cards. She had a debit card, but she hadn’t used it for over a thousand miles. Related Torrents
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