Yuma: a short story romance

Romance
Cover of the book Yuma: a short story romance by Erin Lausten, Erin Lausten
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Author: Erin Lausten ISBN: 9781458027597
Publisher: Erin Lausten Publication: April 9, 2011
Imprint: Smashwords Edition Language: English
Author: Erin Lausten
ISBN: 9781458027597
Publisher: Erin Lausten
Publication: April 9, 2011
Imprint: Smashwords Edition
Language: English

I always thought love was found on exotic beaches and at hometown picnics, not on bombing ranges. But then again, life is never normal for an archaeologist. Here's the tale of how I met the love of my life, the only man for me.

Excerpt:
“Yep. That’s unexploded ordnance.” Jeffery commented. Both he and Matthew stood with their arms crossed against their chests, looking down at it with the manly consideration reserved for beat up vehicles, broken garbage disposals, and apparently artillery.
“Is it live?” I asked
“Don’t know.” Our trusty EOD expert replied. He pulled a GPS from his backpack and began plugging in the location for future reference.
“If I had stepped on it would it have blown up?” My mind flashed to the training video we had been forced to watch explaining the dangers of unexploded ordnance and the very real possibility of death or injury.
“Maybe.” He smiled.
I pursed by lips and squinted. “You’re messing with me.”
He shrugged and turned back the way they had come. I glared at his back, then walked a good ten feet around the ordnance and flounced through the brush. Matthew’s infectious laughter caught me before I could outrun it.

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I always thought love was found on exotic beaches and at hometown picnics, not on bombing ranges. But then again, life is never normal for an archaeologist. Here's the tale of how I met the love of my life, the only man for me.

Excerpt:
“Yep. That’s unexploded ordnance.” Jeffery commented. Both he and Matthew stood with their arms crossed against their chests, looking down at it with the manly consideration reserved for beat up vehicles, broken garbage disposals, and apparently artillery.
“Is it live?” I asked
“Don’t know.” Our trusty EOD expert replied. He pulled a GPS from his backpack and began plugging in the location for future reference.
“If I had stepped on it would it have blown up?” My mind flashed to the training video we had been forced to watch explaining the dangers of unexploded ordnance and the very real possibility of death or injury.
“Maybe.” He smiled.
I pursed by lips and squinted. “You’re messing with me.”
He shrugged and turned back the way they had come. I glared at his back, then walked a good ten feet around the ordnance and flounced through the brush. Matthew’s infectious laughter caught me before I could outrun it.

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