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The Long Walk Back. Rachel Dove
Читать онлайн.Название The Long Walk Back
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008239114
Автор произведения Rachel Dove
Жанр Контркультура
Издательство HarperCollins
Does everyone deserve a second chance?
As an army trauma surgeon Kate knows how to keep her cool in the most high pressure of situations. Although back at home in England her marriage is falling apart, out in the desert she’s happy knowing that she’s saving lives.
Until she meets Cooper. It’s up to Kate to make a split-second decision to save Cooper’s life. Yet Cooper doesn’t want to be saved. Kate’s determined to convince him to give his life a second chance even though its turning out dramatically different from how he thought. Along the way, can he convince Kate to give love a second chance too?
Also from Rachel Dove
The Chic Boutique on Baker Street
The Flower Shop on Foxley Street
The Long Walk Back
Rachel Dove
ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES
Contents
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Copyright
RACHEL DOVE
is a mum of two from Yorkshire and a post 16 teacher specialising in early years education and SEN and Autism.
She has always loved writing, has had previous success as a self-published author, and is the author of The Chic Boutique on Baker Street and The Flower Shop on Foxley Street. Rachel is the winner of the Mills & Boon Prima Flirty Fiction competition.
She is the winner of the 2016 Writers Bureau Writer of the Year award and has had short stories published in the UK and overseas. She is currently working on her sixth book, and can often be found glued to a keyboard.
She is currently undertaking an MA in Creative Writing and if not writing or working from home, she can be found walking the dog or hanging out with her family. She may have a slight addiction to Pickled Onion Monster Munch, but she will deny it when asked.
First of all, big thanks as always to my lovely editor Anna Baggaley, who listened to my rambling pitch for this book in a busy London wine bar, and backed me in writing it and bringing it out into the world. This book was one I wanted to write for a while, and thanks to you and HQ/Harper Collins, it’s finally here.
Also thanks to my physiotherapist Matt, from The Sandal Clinic in Wakefield, who not only fixed my tricky back, but answered my many questions and gave me pointers on sources for the medical parts of this book. Thanks also to the British Army and Help for Heroes for their information, and their service.
A huge helping of gratitude as always to my lovely family of authors, readers and bloggers, who spur me on and inspire me every day. There are too many of you to list, but a big mwah to you all. I love to hear from readers, and I hear such lovely comments. Thank you.
Lastly, as always a massive thank you to my family, especially my husband Peter and our sons Jayden and Nathan. Thank you for putting up with the piles of clean washing everywhere and takeaway food while I tapped away on my laptop for so many hours. I love you all. Miss you Max.
To my husband Peter, who never reads my books, but inspires them anyway.
Thank you for putting up with me.
That day. The day I learned an answer to one of mankind’s big questions: what do you see when your body is at the point of death? Not your average day. An average day is going to work, coming home, parking your fat arse on the couch in front of the TV, a takeaway perched on your knee while you piss and moan to yourself about how skint you are, how the country is going to the dogs, how much you hate your job. That is an average day, one that blends into countless others through the years, till you wake up in your fifties, bored, bald and fat, wondering at what point the dreams of your younger self went down the toilet. That was never going to be me, and my choices in life led me to this day, what looked like my last day. Karma is a bitch, I hear you on that one.
An hour earlier, I was doing a routine sweep of the area with my unit. Of my thirty-one years on the earth, I had spent fifteen of them in the army. We were out in Iraq, pushing back the terrorists that threatened the small villages we were camped near to. Many of the villagers wanted us here, and the tensions were rising.
It’s