Fresh FIction Box Not To Miss
J.S. Scott | Exclusive Excerpt: ENAMORED
Author Guest / October 22, 2019

I watched a couple of construction workers come into the coffee shop. Followed by several other customers. I should be heading back to the office. The late-afternoon crowd is starting to come in. It wasn’t that I didn’t like swimming with the sharks in the corporate world, but I wasn’t used to a sedentary lifestyle cooped up in an office all day. I glanced at the grubby men in orange vests who were ordering their coffee, knowing I had more in common with them than I did with all the other suits I saw on a daily basis. But I wasn’t one of them anymore, the guys who busted their asses physically every single day to make a living. In some ways, I really missed the comradery I’d had in construction with all of my fellow builders. I’d been part of a team. Yeah, it had been tough, exhausting work sometimes, but I’d liked getting my hands dirty, and most of all, I’d loved being outdoors as much as possible. It was my restlessness in the office that had drawn me outdoors. The walk to the Coffee Shack had helped some. It usually did, which was why I was here…

J.S. Scott | Exclusive Excerpt: Ensnared
Author Guest / October 16, 2018

A few hours later, I began to realize that Eli had some standard skills. He’d surveyed the landscape, using the basic signs to find a small stream where we’d filled up water bottles. We still had to boil the water, but Eli had managed to use his knowledge to find it. Grudgingly, I had to admit that he really was interested in primitive survival. I’d taught him some advanced skills, like how to make an underground still if he couldn’t find an obvious source of water, and a few more ways to get drinking water in other climates. He listened, which made my irritation with him fade away a little. I’d expected him to scoff at everything I said or the things I tried to teach him. Instead, it had been exactly the opposite. Eli Stone seemed to suck up knowledge like a sponge, and he asked a lot of intelligent questions. “What are these?” he asked as he stopped on the hiking path we’d been following back to camp. I came to a halt next to him, reaching for his hand as he went to touch the small fruit bush. “Be careful,” I warned as I gripped his fingers…