Rula Sinara - The Promise of Rain

And yet she’d never been as horrified as she was now, facing Jack and hearing what he had to say to her. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of, what she had known would happen if he found out about Pippa… .

He couldn’t take Pippa away from her. No. Way.

“Jack. Don’t talk like that. You don’t take a baby from its mother. You can’t.” Her hands felt numb and she flexed her fingers.

“I’m not leaving her here. My name is on that birth certificate. I have rights.”

“The right to what? Uproot her? Scare her? Take her from the only family she’s ever known? You want to take her screaming and kicking, Jack? Is that what your father-daughter bonding experience is going to be about?”

Jack climbed back into the Jeep.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere until you agree not to do anything crazy.”

Dear Reader,

I’ve always been fascinated by elephants. Such majestic and powerful creatures, yet under an elephant’s thick skin is a nurturing, soulful heart and mind that values family, community and love. Yes, love. They’re emotional creatures who mourn the loss of loved ones, protect and care for both their own young as well as orphans, and unfortunately, due to brutal poaching, know firsthand that some wounds never heal. And though they march on to the next watering hole, they remember. Behavioral researchers have observed them holding grudges and reacting to the mere scent of someone who has caused them pain in the past.

Memories and experiences shape us, often in good ways, but sometimes they prevent us from embracing life. Fear of abandonment, trust and self-worth are a few of the themes in my debut novel, The Promise of Rain. Although both my hero and heroine have marched on with their lives—on opposite sides of the world from each other—neither one realizes just how much they’ve allowed their past wounds to erode their self-worth and ability to trust in unconditional love.

We all express love differently. Some show … some tell … and others silently ache for love. Sometimes all it takes is one drop to spring a heart to life, so give without expectations, because every living thing has a unique way of reciprocating love.

I hope you enjoy The Promise of Rain , the first in a three-book series for the Heartwarming line. I love hearing from readers, so send me a note at rulasinara@gmail.com or pop by my website at www.rulasinara.com or blog at www.awritersrush.blogspot.com.

Wishing you love and acceptance,

Rula Sinara

The Promise of Rain

Rula Sinara

www.millsandboon.co.uk

After a childhood enriched with exotic travels and adventures (both in books and real life), Rula Sinara is now settled in rural Virginia with her husband, three boys and crazy but endearing pets. When she’s not writing, she’s busy attracting wildlife to her yard, watching romantic movies (despite male protests), or researching trees on her garden wish list. According to her kids, she’s obsessed with anything that grows, including the seed of a story idea and the love between unlikely characters.

Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank every writer, reader and blogger who, knowingly or unknowingly, taught, encouraged and inspired me. I’ve made so many dear friends, writers and industry professionals alike, who selflessly helped propel my writing dream forward and have stuck by my side along the way. You know who you are and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for every opportunity you’ve given me.

Thank you to Mills & Boon and everyone who is a part of their family for being there from the start. The invaluable educational and writing opportunities, community support and guidance for unpublished writers you provide made all the difference.

Also, a heartfelt thanks to animal charities and wildlife organizations who strive to stop both animal cruelty and the endangerment of species.

Dedication

To Stephanie, because sometimes friends know us better than we know ourselves. I’ll never forget the day we were having a heart-to-heart while washing dishes, and you turned to me and said that I should write a romance. Here it is, my friend.

To Kaily, whose fated friendship has meant the world to me. Thanks for sharing the writing journey with me, for all your advice and for being my rock along the way. Thank you for everything. There are no words …

To Jeannie, for taking me under her wing. I can’t thank you enough for your friendship, advice and constant support. This story would have never come to life if it weren’t for your caring nudge and belief in me. You opened the door for this book. I can’t thank you enough.

To Victoria, my extraordinary, gifted editor, for seeing something worth nurturing in my writing, from the first manuscript I ever penned, to the story between these covers. Your guidance, advice and faith in me have made this book so much stronger. You’ve been there from the start and you’ve made me a better writer. I’m forever grateful.

To my family for encouraging my love of writing since childhood and for believing I always had it in me. And to my guys at home for their support, patience and for taking up the slack when I needed to write. Thank you infinity.

In memory of Anwhar … a kind, patient man and giving soul. Your friendship and advice will never be forgotten.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“HEY!” DR. ANNA BEKKER shielded her face as she peered up into the sprawling acacia tree that shaded her observation platform, and spotted her primate stalker. One bite of leftover fruit tossed to him in sympathy and four years later the little guy was as much a part of camp as anyone.

“Ambosi, you sadistic fool, fruit pits are not the way to get a girl’s attention. Get lost. I’m not playing,” Anna said, rubbing the lingering sore spot on the top of her head. He cackled and grinned before scrambling off on his three limbs to a nearby grove of elephant pepper trees for more ammunition. Some guys could not take a hint.

A screech pierced the background symphony of the Serengeti and an elephant rumble thrummed the air as the blood-orange hues of daybreak embraced the left side of Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance. Such a breathtaking balance of power and serenity. A daily affirmation that she’d made the right decision five years ago. Anna downed the last of her coffee.

Time to face her beloved chaos.

Tightening her fingers around the metal handle of her mug, she braced herself on the edge of the wooden platform she’d helped erect, and hopped down. A mushroom of dust billowed around her boots.

Anna looked up at the sky. Solid, morbid blue. They needed rain—badly—and they were still a month away from the start of the next rainy season. The Busara Research camp had tapped into an underground stream, but animals didn’t have pump wells or deep roots. Even Busara’s well was getting low. If any more riverbeds dried up, the herds would either move beyond Anna’s observation area, or die. As if the poaching numbers this year hadn’t been bad enough. She sighed and trudged toward the bustle and calls of a camp coming to life. Rounds before research had become her game plan over the past few years. Busara included a small nursery, mainly for baby elephants orphaned by poaching, but really for any animal Anna didn’t have the heart to turn away.