Ariana's Determination

By Harvey Stanbrough

How important is finishing what you start? Important enough to risk your life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: FrostProof808
• Release date: Jun 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386555384

Harvey Stanbrough

Harvey Stanbrough is an award winning writer and poet who was born in New Mexico, seasoned in Texas, and baked in Arizona. Twenty-one years after graduating from high school in the metropolis of Tatum New Mexico, he matriculated again, this time from a Civilian-Life Appreciation Course (CLAC) in the US Marine Corps. He follows Heinlein’s Rules avidly and most often may be found Writing Off Into the Dark. Harvey has written and published 36 novels, 7 novellas. almost 200 short stories and the attendant collections. He's also written and published 16 nonfiction how-to books on writing. More than almost anything else, he hopes you will enjoy his stories.

Book preview

Ariana’s Determination

The beat-up, squat white rectangle of a bus slowed as it neared the north end of the village. The sun, risen only a half-hour earlier, reflected in gold and silver flecks off the plume of dust it kicked up. As it moved south, the shadow stretched away across the desert, warping into arroyos and momentarily darkening creosote, prickly pear and chollas.

Inside the bus, halfway along the aisle on the left, Ariana Grayson was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved pink shirt. The shirt was tucked into her jeans behind a narrow brown belt, the sleeves rolled to her mid-forearms. On her feet were comfortable white Nikes.

Her ash-blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. When she let it down, it came to just above her shoulder blades.

She smiled tentatively and glanced around at the other passengers. And immediately felt a bit self-conscious.

Most of the other women on the bus were wearing dresses. Some with shoes, most with sandals. Only the men and one or two women, maybe, wore jeans or faded dungarees and shoes or boots.

Almost every seat was filled too, usually with two passengers on either side of the aisle. When she boarded in Nogales, she hadn’t noticed. She’d plopped her bag into the window seat, then seated herself next to it on the aisle. But none of the other passengers seemed to care.

Across the aisle was a plump, short woman in a faded, flowery dress. Her face was round and full, her upper lip covered with fine black