The Tub

By Linda Mooney and Gail Smith

Amanda Storey was sent by her company to a tiny rural town to convince the community that having a chain mega-supermarket built there would be a boon to their economy and job market.

She never showed up for the town hall meeting, even though the company insists she was scheduled to be there.  The motor inn where she had reservations claimed she never checked in, and police have not found any trace of her body or her car.

This is what really happened.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Mooney
• Release date: Oct 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781941321270

Linda Mooney

Linda loves to write sensuously erotic romance with a fantasy, paranormal, or science fiction flair. Her technique is often described as being as visual as a motion picture or graphic novel. A wife, mother, grandmother, and retired Kindergarten and music teacher, she lives in a small south Texas town near the Gulf coast where she delves into other worlds filled with daring exploits, adventure, and intense love. She has numerous best sellers, including 10 consecutive #1s. In 2009, she was named Whiskey Creek Press Torrid's Author of the Year, and her book My Strength, My Power, My Love was named the 2009 WCPT Book of the Year. In 2011, her book Lord of Thunder was named the Epic Ebook "Eppie" Award Winner for Best Erotic Sci-Fi Romance. In addition, she write naughty erotic romances under the name of Carolyn Gregg, and horror under the pseudonym of Gail Smith. For more information about Linda Mooney books and titles, and to sign up for her newsletter, please visit her website. http://www.LindaMooney.com

Book preview

The Tub

It was after eight, the sun had gone down over an hour ago, and Amanda Storey had no idea where the hell she was. Her cell phone, with its global positioning app, had bitten the dust thirty miles ago, thanks to the plug for the adaptor malfunctioning in her car. That left her with trying to find her way by using a regular old highway map she’d bought at the convenience store during her last pit stop. To say she was pissed would have been a major understatement.

Pulling off onto the side of the two-lane road, she reached for said map sitting in the passenger seat and squinted at it in the glare of the ceiling lamp. Her destination was no bigger than a pinprick in the middle of nowhere, with its name in print the size that would actually fit on the head of that pin.

Itsy.

Who the fuck names a town Itsy?

The ear worm was back, insinuating its god-awful tune of Itsy Bitsy, Teeny Weenie, Yellow Polka Dot Bikini into her tired brain. She was ready to give up. Throwing the map back into the seat, she pulled back onto the deserted road and kept heading in the direction she’d been going. According to the map, Itsy lay somewhere up ahead. She was bound to get there sooner or later.

Probably by next week.

Damn you, Milton Dawles.

It was his fault she was here in the first place because he was too chicken shit to face these people on his own. No, he’d rather dangle her over the pit, offering her up as a sacrifice to these inbred hillbillies.

The road stretched before her endlessly. Straight ahead, no curves, no small hills to break the monotony, and nothing but miles and miles of flat, open farmland on both sides of her as far as she could see. She hadn’t passed a single vehicle for the past fifty or sixty miles. But according to the main office, it was just the place to set up a RiteCost. Sometimes she wondered how the developers at headquarters chose the locations to build one of their mega stores. Did they