lunedì 21 luglio 2014

Conto alla rovescia per "BAMF" di Sjd Peterson

Lunedì prossimo, il 28 uscirà il romanzo di Sjd Peterson "BAMF" e anche questa settimana l'autrice ci regala un estratto. Purtroppo ne possono gioire solo le lettrici che leggono anche in inglese, ma sono sicura che non dovremmo poi attendere così tanto per poterlo leggere anche in italiano. Come si dice, incrociamo le dita!!

He had a hell of a lump on the back of his head. Ridley supposed he should have been happy the fucker went for his noggin; he’d always been hardheaded. Concussion, the doc had called it, which had explained the puking—embarrassing as hell—and the ride to the hospital was pretty much a blur. One minute he was knocking John on his ass, the next thing he was in the emergency room sitting on a stretcher wearing a dress. He had flashes. He thought he remembered seeing Alex standing over him, or maybe that had been a dream, wishful thinking?
“Mr. Corbin?”

Huh?” Ridley snapped his eyes open and scanned his surroundings. He was in a hospital room—how the hell did I get here?Wasn’t I just in the emergency room? He was hooked up to monitors, an IV running into his arm. What the hell?
“Do you know what day it is?” the nurse asked and shined a light in his eyes, making him wince.
“Can you tell me your name?” she asked in a professional tone as she shined the light in his other eye.
“Attila the Hun.”
“Ridley!” Rae chastised and slapped his arm.
“Ow! Stop that. I’m injured,” he snapped. His head lolled to the side and he glared at Rae. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“Sir, could you please tell me your name,” the nurse asked again. The old fart didn’t sound at all amused.
“Ridley Corbin. Can I go home now?”
“That will be up to the doctor,” Nurse Old Fart said dryly and then left the room.
Ridley sniffed and turned to Rae again, who was sitting in the chair next to the bed scowling at him. “That look doesn’t work on me,” he informed her. “I’m still going home.”
“No, you’re not,” Rae said with obvious frustration. “The doctor said you had to stay overnight. You have a concussion and they need to make sure you don’t die.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” he asked and rolled his eyes, which made the room kind of swimmy.
“Yeah, I’d say dying is a lot dramatic, so stop being a big baby and do what the doctor tells you. He said twenty-four hours”—she pointed a finger at him—“and you’re staying every last second.” Ridley tried to grab the digit but his vision was blurred and he ended up with empty air, which caused Rae to laugh raucously. “Yeah, you’re so ready to go home.”
“I could if you would stay with me and play nurse,” Ridley said hopefully, but he already knew the answer. The evil glare Rae gave him confirmed it. He wasn’t going to give up, but he gave her a momentary break by changing the subject. He needed time to come up with something to guilt her with. “Hey, did you happen to see Alex?”
“Nope. I checked at the nurses’ station and no one by the name Alex Firestone was brought in.”
Knowing Alex hadn’t come to the hospital upped Ridley’s desire to get the hell out of there. His head was sketchy, the exact events elusive, and he needed to know Alex was okay. Rae had informed him that she hadn’t seen Alex, and she’d arrived not too long after he had gotten to the hospital. Ridley hadn’t seen him since the puking instance. The really weird thing was that the cops had thought Ridley had taken Kyle and his flunkies out. He was badass, but seriously? No.

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