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Available 4.15.24


Against the Wild

Against the Wild, June 2014
The Brodies of Alaska #1
by Kat Martin

Kensington Zebra
Featuring: Lane Bishop; Dylan Brodie
400 pages
ISBN: 1420133829
EAN: 9781420133820
Kindle: B00GYLVSJQ
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book
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"not only the eagles soar in Alaska"

Fresh Fiction Review

Against the Wild
Kat Martin

Reviewed by Sandra Wurman
Posted July 14, 2014

Romance Suspense

AGAINST THE WILD by Kat Martin takes place in one of the most fascinating states I've ever visited Alaska. There is something so earthy and real about a place that faces the most horrific winters but looks forward to amazingly beautiful summers. Kat Martin is the master of setting the stage and with Alaska as her background AGAINST THE WILD was just a joy to read. In addition Martin is a romantic at heart and once again she treats us to a warm delightful love story filled with unmistakable images of the joy of falling in love. There is even a bit of a mysterious haunting thrown in for good measure. AGAINST THE WILD plays all the elements of Alaska like a virtuoso. Bravo.

Well here's the scoop Dylan Brodie knows something good when he sees it. He fell in love with the lodge he purchased with the intent of building a business guiding visitors on fishing expeditions. And he also knew this would be a wonderful place to raise Emily his 8 year old.

Lane Bishop was recruited to help remodel this lodge. Her business was actually in California but Dylan had dangled a unique and very interesting job working within such a rural setting. Lane was busy convincing herself that her decision to accept this assignment was to settle a debt but that was her sensible side speaking. Her emotional side knew better.

Dylan and Lane had connected before for a very brief time. Perhaps this would finally put an end to an attraction that was a definite dead end. Along for the ride is Finn Lane's huge wolfhound who immediately attracts Emily's attention. Dylan hopes having a pet, even a short term one, will bring Emily around -- anything that can help Emily find her voice Dylan would wholeheartedly embrace.

Creaking staircases, uninhabited rocking chairs, chills in the air are the stuff hauntings are made of. But Dylan is committed to making his lodge into a vacation destination and so feeding into any legends is just plain counterproductive. This lodge with Lane's help is going to be a fashionably rustic fashion plate in what is decidedly a remote area of Alaska. Dylan has undying confidence in Lane's ability to do the job. Just as he can't hide the fact that Lane lights a spark that he felt long dead.

Kat Martin makes me smile -- it's just that simple. In AGAINST THE WILD we are treated to a magnificent panorama of Mother Nature at her best. The underdeveloped country is the backdrop for a beautiful love story. Along the way Martin teaches us the ways of the locals including the Indians indigenes to the area. Anyone who has an appetite for some really unique history will gobble up this latest installment in Martin's Brodies books.

Learn more about Against the Wild

SUMMARY

Alaska - Where the men are as bold and untamed as America's last wilderness

It's been three years since Lane Bishop tragically lost her fiancé, and she's finally ready to risk her heart on someone else. The hot look in Dylan Brodie's eyes says he's going to be that man.

But when Lane flies to the remote 1930's fishing lodge to help him renovate, she discovers a little girl who won't speak, eerie legends and strange sounds in the night. And when she investigates the history of the lodge, she uncovers a legacy of injustice and murder.

As danger stalks his daughter and the woman he is coming to love, Dylan must risk everything to uncover the shocking truth.

Excerpt

The low moaning of the wind awakened him. The old fishing lodge, constructed in the thirties, was built of hand-hewn logs, the chinking between them worn by time and weather, leaving spaces for the air to blow through. An eerie keening echoed inside the house, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Dylan’s spine.

Just the wind, he reminded himself. Nothing to do with stories of ghosts and hauntings. Just an inconvenience, nothing more.

Still, he had Emily to think of. Dylan Brodie swung his long legs to the side of the bed, shrugged into his heavy flannel robe, and padded barefoot down the hall toward his daughter’s bedroom.

Dylan had fallen in love with the place the moment he had seen it, perched on Eagle Bay like a guardian of the two hundred forested acres around it.

Old legends be damned. He didn’t believe in ghosts or any of the Indian myths he had heard. He’d waited years to find the perfect spot for his guided fishing and family vacation business, and this was the place.

The wind picked up as he moved down the hall, the air sliding over rough wood, whistling through the eves, the branches on the trees shifting eerily against the window panes. Dylan picked up his pace, worried the noise would frighten Emily, though so far his eight-year-old daughter seemed more at ease in the lodge than he was.

Frosted glass wall sconces dimly lit the passage as he walked along, original, not part of a remodel of the residential wing done a few years back, before the last owner moved out and left the area.

The four bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs on this side of the building weren’t fancy but they were livable while he worked on the rest of the lodge. The master suite had been updated, but it wasn’t the way he wanted it yet. Eventually, he would rebuild this section, as well, bring it all up to the four-star standard he’d had in mind when he had purchased the property.

Dylan paused at the door to Emily’s room, quietly turned the knob and eased it open. His daughter lay beneath the quilt that his housekeeper, Winifred Henry, had made for her as a Christmas gift, princesses and unicorns embroidered in puffy little pink and white squares, all hand-stitched to fit her youth-size four-poster bed.

His gaze went to the child. Emily had the same dark hair and blue eyes that marked her a Brodie, but her complexion was as pale as her mother’s. Unlike Mariah’s perfect patrician features, Emily’s mouth was a little too wide, her small nose freckled across the bridge.

She was awake, he saw, her eyes fixed on the antique rocker near the window. It was just her size, fashioned of oak and intricately carved. She loved the old chair that had been in the lodge when he bought it.

Emily never sat in it, but she was fascinated by the way the wind made it rock on its own. Dylan found it slightly eerie, the way it moved back and forth as if some invisible occupant sat in the little chair. She was watching it now, her lips curved in the faintest of smiles. She mumbled something he couldn’t quite hear and Dylan’s chest clamped down.

It hurt to watch his little girl, see her in the make- believe world she now lived in, forming silent phrases, nothing he could actually hear.

Emily hadn’t spoken a single audible phrase since her mother had abandoned her three years ago. Not a meaningful word since the night Mariah Brodie had run off with another man.

Dylan’s hand unconsciously fisted. Maybe he hadn’t been the husband Mariah wanted. Maybe he’d been too wrapped up in trying to make a life in the harsh Alaskan wilderness he loved. Maybe he hadn’t paid her enough attention.

Maybe he just hadn’t loved her enough.

Guilt slipped through him. He never should have married her. He should have known she would never be able to adjust to the life he lived here. Still, it didn’t excuse her cruel abandonment of their daughter. An abandonment Emily had not been able to cope with.

Dylan forced himself to walk into the bedroom. Emily’s eyes swung to his, but she didn’t smile, just stared at him in that penetrating way that made his stomach churn.

“Em, honey, are you okay?” She didn’t answer, as he knew she wouldn’t. “It’s just the wind. The lodge is old. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Emily’s gaze went to the window, where a lone pine branch shifted restlessly against the sill. Ignoring him as if he weren’t there, she snuggled back into her pillow and closed her eyes. She blamed him for the loss of her mother, he knew. It was the only explanation for why she had withdrawn from him so completely.

Tucking the quilt a little closer beneath her chin, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. The wind picked up as he walked out of the bedroom and eased the door closed. Emily was his to watch over and protect, his to care for and comfort. But he had lost his daughter three years ago.

When he had driven her mother away.

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