Avalanche On The Mountain – Olivia Michaels (1)

“First, you’re going to go eat something that isn’t a protein bar.” Shane closed his laptop and stood. Charlie blinked. “Actually, Ben’s fed me well today. I’m fine⁠—” “King.” Shane’s voice went firm. “You’ve been on since Saturday. You need a break. I’ve got this tonight.” “I can just order room service, or better yet, we could all get a pizza.”

“Pizza sounds great—” Shane started. “Or,” Ben spoke up, “I can continue feeding you well, Charlie. There’s a nice restaurant downstairs.” He looked pointedly at Shane. Charlie’s heart started hammering. “Even better idea, Moose,” Shane said. “I’ll get outta your hair. I’ve got the room across from Rowan’s. You’ve got your phone. Anything happens, I’ll call and you’re back in thirty seconds.”

He moved toward the door, then paused. “That’s an order, King. Good night, Moose.” He couldn’t close the door fast enough behind him. The sudden silence in the hotel room was deafening. “I, uh.” Ben’s voice was quiet. “It wasn’t—I mean, I shouldn’t assume⁠—” Charlie’s head snapped toward him. “It’s fine,” Charlie said quickly. “You don’t have to feed me; you should go enjoy your dinner.”

“No.” “No?” “I’d really like it if you’d have dinner with me, Charlie.” Her mouth went dry. Ben Massey was asking her to dinner. Right now. This was happening. Not out of pity. Not because Shane set it up. Because he wanted to. Say yes, her heart screamed.

Say yes say yes say yes⁠— “I’m not exactly dressed for a nice restaurant,” she heard herself say as she ran a hand through her wind-tangled ponytail, and wanted to punch herself. Ben’s mouth quirked. “I’m not dressed for it either. But I don’t think they’ll kick us out for tactical pants and flannel.”

Charlie felt a smile pulling at her lips despite herself. “You sure about that?” “Pretty sure.” He took a step closer. “So? Will you have dinner with me?” Hide what you love. But maybe—just maybe—she didn’t have to anymore. “Yeah,” Charlie said. “Yeah, I’d like that.

All cover art and logo © Copyright 2025 By Falcon in Hand Publishing Cover by Syneca Featherstone All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author. This book is a work of fiction.

The names, characters, and places portrayed in this book are entirely products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Formatted with Vellum 1kitap1.com/en This one’s for The ‘Guy’ at the Hiring Fair.

36 years, and going strong. 1kitap1.com/en ONE Ben Massey was driving the backroads to Lyons from setting up his stall at the Renaissance Faire when he spotted the broken-down Honda Civic. The little sedan sat canted on the shoulder, hazards blinking in the last light of a warm, late-summer Sunday evening. He eased his truck to a stop behind it, keeping enough distance that he wouldn’t box the driver in and turned on his own hazards. His military training kicked in automatically —scan the area, check for threats, assess the situation before committing.

The driver’s door opened and a woman stepped out and looked at him warily before giving him a nervous smile. She kept glancing past Ben down the road toward Sedalia like she expected someone to come roaring up behind her. Ben killed the engine and took a breath. This part never got easier—the approach. He knew what he looked like climbing out of his truck. Six- seven, two-forty of solid muscle, shoulders that barely fit through most doorframes.

He’d learned young that his size scared people, especially women who’d been hurt before. And this woman’s body language screamed hurt. He opened his door slowly, making sure she could see him coming. When his boots hit the pavement, he deliberately hunched his shoulders, making himself smaller. Old habit. Didn’t always work, but it was worth trying. “Hey there,” he called, keeping his voice soft and his hands visible. “Looks like you could use some help.” Ben’s chest tightened as he drew closer. Her face was a mess—mascara streaked down her cheeks, eyes red and swollen from crying.

But it was the look in those eyes that got him. Not just worry. Terror. “I’m fine, thanks,” she said too quickly. Her hands twisted together in front of her, knuckles white.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 45894664c0e33a75
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 3,831,627 bytes (3.654 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 249
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 374.92 minutes
• Total Words: 74,984
• Total Characters: 432,224
• Average Words per Page: 301.14
• Average Characters per Page: 1735.84

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