Liz Johnson - The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn

She clamped both hands over her mouth, her eyes huge in the strained planes of her face as she realized that she was still talking.

Myles almost laughed out loud. If he had been anywhere else in the world, he would have let out a great belly laugh at the look of panic and shock on Kenzie’s face. But this was not the time or place to ponder that expression. There would be time enough for that later, if they survived.

Yellow eyes glowed in the moonlight as the fur on the mountain lion’s back began to stand up. Completely unprepared, Myles was about to fight a mountain lion to protect Kenzie Thorn. When had he gone insane?

Suddenly he wished for the knife that Guard Whitestall had offered him back at the prison. But wishes don’t scare off mean, angry cougars.

Kenzie gasped, squeezing him even tighter, and Myles knew it was time. This was it. Either God was going to spare his life, or he was going to meet his Maker.

The cat lunged, teeth bared, claws spread wide, as it jumped toward his throat. He dodged left, simultaneously pushing Kenzie behind the tree, out of the path of the mountain lion. A searing pain shot through his right thigh as the force of the seventy-five-pound animal knocked him to the ground.

On the ground, he lost most of the momentum of a blow, but with as much force as he could muster, he punched the animal in the tender flesh of its nose. The cat whined, then immediately growled, whipping its head from side to side.

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