This week’s spotlight is on
Cheryl Adnams
and we’re showcasing Common Ground

…

Cheryl Adnams lives in Adelaide, South Australia. After discovering a love of writing in high school, she went on to complete courses in screenplay writing and a Diploma of Freelance Travel Writing and Photography.

Having travelled extensively, Cheryl lived and worked in the United States, Canada and then for a tour company in Switzerland and Austria. Back home in South Australia now, she has a deep love and pride for the Fleurieu Peninsula and Adelaide Hills regions – particularly the beauty of the beaches and wine region of McLaren Vale.

Cheryl Adnams. Contemporary rural romance showcasing South Australia’s Riverland and wine regions.

Only love can begin to heal the deepest of battle scars.

Rachel Raymond has always loved her job – she’s a strong, independent foreign correspondent and has built up an illustrious career chasing stories across the world. But her life suddenly changes for ever when at the end of a tour based in war-torn Afghanistan, the vehicle she and her team are travelling in hits a roadside bomb.

Liliana Howell is over the moon when her long lost best friend returns unexpectedly the week before Lily’s wedding in the South Australia Riverland. But it doesn’t take her long to realise that something is different about Rachel, even though her old friend refuses to talk about why she’s finally come home.

Fireman Tate Cassidy has also made the trip to the Riverland for the wedding and finds himself instantly drawn to the mysterious journalist. Tate has his own demons to fight, but when he finds himself falling for this woman who’s seen too much, can he use their Common Ground to help her through her darkest time? And will Rachel let him close enough to show her that love can heal all wounds?

Excerpt from Common Ground by Cheryl Adnams

Tate opened one eye. Strips of sunlight far too bright were peeking through the vertical blinds. Rolling over he picked up his mobile phone from the bedside table. Six am! He groaned and pulled the pillow over his head, effectively blocking the sunlight. Now if he could only get that bloody kookaburra to stop laughing he’d be able get some more shuteye. What was so freaking funny? He’d never thought of himself as a violent person but after a bad night’s sleep he felt the murder of native wildlife might be justifiable birdicide – or whatever they called it. Of course, that would mean he’d have to be bothered getting out of bed in order to commit said criminal act. No, he wasn’t a violent person, so he attempted to block the warbling song out by squeezing the pillow tighter over his head. He might just suffocate himself but at least it would be quiet.

And people thought the city was noisy. The hum of traffic could be lulling but the lone screech of an owl in the middle of the silent night had had him up and reaching for the nearest handy weapon. He wasn’t sure what he’d intended to do with his sandshoe but it had been the nearest thing at hand. Rolling over beneath the pillow, his face landed on the sandshoe, which he had obviously taken back to bed.

Accepting he wasn’t about to get any more sleep, Tate sat up and let his feet touch the floor. He walked out of the bedroom and threw open the sliding door on the guesthouse. His eyes still half closed, he stepped out onto the timber planks of the small veranda and letting out a jaw-breaking yawn, stretched his arms above his head, feeling the crunch and pull of bones and muscle. As a fireman in his mid-thirties, that was something he knew he’d better get used to. Rolling his right shoulder he felt the usual stiffness but at least the pain had pretty much gone. Only the memory of it remained, and that was enough.

Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the cool eucalypt-scented morning air and watched the river flow past him with mesmerised, sleep-filled eyes. The irritation he’d felt at being woken so early began to dissipate. The sun was a bright orange ball teetering just over the top of the cliffs and he felt its warmth on his chest as he closed his eyes and soaked up its rays. It was going to be a beautiful day.

‘Morning there, Butch.’

He opened his eyes, yawned again, and squinted across to the clump of trees to where the voice had come from.

Rachel was standing there in very loose grey sweatpants and a daggy long-sleeved black t-shirt covered by an equally daggy short-sleeved t-shirt that looked like Army issue khaki that had indeed been through a war. She puffed lightly as she stood with her hands on her hips. The v-shaped sweat stain on the neckline of her shirt showed she’d obviously been up and running for a while.

He was surprised to see that the wariness she’d displayed the night before had completely disappeared and been replaced by a broad grin. And she had one hell of a grin. Was this the same woman who’d threatened to castrate him? Her enigmatic smile lit her up and it gave his brain and his belly a waking kick. Had he thought she was cute? He must have been really tired the night before if he hadn’t noticed just how attractive she was.

You really must be sexually comatose, Cassidy, he thought, zeroing in on the brown eyes that had been so full of hostility last night and now shone wickedly like Bourbon sparkling temptingly in a glass.

‘Good morning,’ he called back, unable to stop his own smile.

He could see she was almost laughing but was trying hard to control it. It confused him as she shook her head and jogged past him. She turned at the last minute in a backwards jog and looking him up and down she licked her lips.

‘Glad to see I didn’t damage your balls last night,’ she said and winked.

He frowned, confused, then looked down at himself.

In his sleep-addled stupor he’d forgotten he was naked. Butt naked. Everything was out and dangling in the pleasant morning breeze. And she’d just stood there and watched him without any shame or embarrassment.

‘Better watch out for birds,’ she called back, pointing to the trees. ‘They might mistake that thing for a worm, take it right off.’

Putting his hands over his private parts he turned quickly and rushed back into the guesthouse.

Common Ground is available in eBook from all good retailers.
BUY NOW
Booktopia
Amazon Australia
Amazon.com
iBooks
Kobo

Read more about Cheryl and her books on Meet Cheryl Adnams here on ARR
Or visit Cheryl on her website CherylAdnams.com
Visit Cheryl Adnams on Facebook

Cheryl has other romance books published. Discover more on her webpage.

Return to HOME page
Return to BLOG