Thirty-Two Degrees North: Ayasha Slaughter Epic One, #1

By P.J. & S.E. TURNER

Two graduate students have the responsibility of rennovating a forty-year-old CCC bunkhouse on top of Mt. Lemmon in the Catalina Mts. to become a guest lodge. Ayasha is an enthusiastic business major. Kennith is an introverted astronomer assigned to improve his social skills. Friction errupts from Day One.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A Turning Point Publication
• Release date: Sep 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393313397

Book preview

THIRTY-TWO DEGREES NORTH

Copyright © 2020

P J & S E TURNER

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, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover design & formatting by The Turning Point.

The author’s information is at the end sheet.

This is a work of fiction, strictly a product of the author’s imagination.  Any perceived resemblance or similarity to any actual events or persons, living or dead, and any perceived slights or people, places, organizations are products of the reader’s imagination.

Characters: 

Ayasha Slaughter – Project CFO (working for a degree in marketing)

Kenneth Patterson – Astronomer and co-leader with Ayasha

Chef Ana – Has been with the Slaughter

family for many years.

Blue Slaughter – Ayasha’s Aunt (owns numerous hotels)

Clyde Slaughter – Blue’s husband (Ayasha’s uncle)

Benjamin Slaughter – Ayasha’s father

Jillian Slaughter – Ben’s second wife, Ayasha’s stepmotherPatty Gibson – Natl. Forest Service Ranger

Dan LeRoy – EMT and police at Summerhaven

PROLOGUE

THHHHHHhhhhhthunk!

The arrow sinks deep into the yellow center of the target.

Two more Thhhunks and Ayasha walks the twenty yards to her target and pulls the arrows.

What do you think, Uncle Clyde?

I think the practicing has paid off, Ayasha. You’re pulling back to your anchor point consistently, and the slow release keeps the tip on the target.

As she places her bow into its bag, her cell chirps urgently.

"Hello?

Ayasha? This is Doctor Allen.  I have some good news for you.

Yes?

You are to be in charge of the Mt. Lemmon Project.  We would like you to meet with us tomorrow at ten-thirty to discuss the project.

Who will be my partner?

We’ll let you know, tomorrow.  Can you be there?

I can hardly wait, Dr. Allen.  Thank you.

She clicked her phone off and hugged a surprised Clyde.

What was that all about?

Oh, Uncle Clyde, I’ve spent three months writing proposals for a grant.  Several departments from the University are competing to be on one of four teams.  I’m one of the lucky ones.

And  what will your team do?

That’s what we’ll find out, tomorrow.  I’ll be paired up with someone from another department.  We’ll have a year to make the project work.

Will this interrupt your archery  competition?

She paused and lifted her bow bag to carry it to the car. 

I hadn’t thought of that.  It might.  But archery is a sport; this project could be my career.  Archery can wait.

Clyde patted her on the shoulder.  Of course it can. Getting your degree is the priority.

CHAPTER ONE:  AYASHA

Ayasha shuffled her boots through the soft ash. Each step sent puffs of gray powder floating around her cuffs. The smell of burned wood hung in the air.

She paused.  Something moved – silently – cautiously.  Was it a bear?  A coyote?  The early morning sun cast bright rays through the skeletonized trees bare of foliage, leaving contrasting shadows where the animal may be hiding.  She took another slow step and paused, hardly breathing, waiting.  She knew it was watching her – not stalking – just watching.  After a few minutes, she relaxed and slowly, stepped silently through the giant ponderosa trees toward the clearing.  In the middle of the opening, she had her first view of the old lodge.  The green roof, pitched sharply to ward off the winter snows, showed spots of brown where shingles were missing.

"That’s the first thing," she said to herself.

A gutter sagged along one side of the second story; its useless trough turned toward the ground. 

"That’s second."

Approaching the steps to the porch, she again saw the movement out of the corner of her eye.  This time she recognized the dark body of a bear moving into the forest.

Okay, Mr. Bear, I’ve spotted you.  You may go on about your business.  I have work to do.

She walks across the porch, kicking the drifts of ash out of her way, takes the key, and unlocks the padlock.  As she pulls back the hinge, it falls away from the door, hanging from the frame by two rusted screws.

Oh great.  I can see they meant it when they said it hasn’t been kept up.

She grips the knob to push the door open.  It doesn’t budge. She pushes harder, and it scrapes open an inch.

Oh fine! grumbling under her breath.

Removing her backpack and putting her shoulder to the door, she slams into it.

Ugh!  It moves another inch.

Backing up and giving another mighty heave, she slams all five feet six inches of her body into the barrier.  Suddenly, it gives way and scrapes open emitting a