Excerpt of No Going Back by Petie McCarty

The frigid water closed in over Kellen, and she lashed out with both arms to force her head above the surface for a desperate breath. Her hiking boots would sign her death warrant; they already felt like concrete blocks. She had only minutes, maybe seconds, to keep herself afloat. She thrashed again, and this time her face barely cleared the water's surface. She was ready and screamed with all her might.

The icy water filled her eyes, but she couldn't devote the split second needed to wipe them, so intent was she on keeping her mouth above the water long enough for a precious lungful of air. She scissored her legs to help her dwindling buoyancy, but the physical act was so difficult with the boots on, her muscles screamed with the effort.

How many more times can I get a breath? Two maybe three?

All her muscles strained in revolt as she scissored her legs again. She plummeted after each thrust, and her best effort barely pushed her mouth and nose above the surface. She didn't scream again; there was no one around to hear, and she couldn't spare the strength. Less than a minute had passed since she'd hit the water.

Down she pushed her arms, but the heavy flannel shirt fought back. She opened her eyes and could see the surface, yet at the peak of her thrust, her lips were still in the water. She tried to scissor her legs, but she had nothing left. She feared she would sink and flailed both arms upward.

Death hovered at her shoulder, near as the blackest of shadows beneath the dock, tangible enough that she could reach out and touch it. She pulled her head back and saw a blurred shadow moving overhead. Hope buoyed her escape from the frigid arms of the river pulling her down, and she forced her way to the surface.

A huge hand plunged into the icy water and grabbed her right arm, and she felt her body pulled toward the surface. The second her mouth was exposed to the air, she gasped for a breath. A cough wracked her frame and threatened the tenuous hold of the mighty hand on her arm. She sunk back down, her eyes filled with water, and her vision blurred. She felt as though she weighed a ton, with the soaked clothing and boots, and grew terrified the hand couldn't hold on. Yet she was pulled higher until another hand grabbed the back of her shirt, and her body was yanked up and sideways onto the deck. The mighty hands released her, and she clutched at the wooden planks to be sure she was far enough from the precipice to the icy water. She heaved two successive gasps, and a hard sob wracked her frame.

Two strong arms tugged her upright. She blinked rapidly to clear her blurred vision and saw Luke's face, his dark eyes wide. Nothing had ever looked so good to her in all her life. With another hard sob, she threw herself into his arms and broke into tears. The brush with death shattered all her resolve and kindled emotions buried in the deepest recesses of her heart.

He pulled her roughly to him and held her tight to his chest, mumbling soothing words into her ear. His warmth seeped into her, and she clung to him like her lifeline –– digging her fingers into his back, unwilling to let go, and unable to stop crying.

"I almost d–drowned," she stuttered, her face still buried against his chest.

"Good Lord, I know," he rumbled and squeezed her tight to him again.

"If you had been a minute later," she wheezed and tried to look up at him.

"Don't even think that!" he snapped.

She flinched and pulled back. His gaze looked hard and unyielding.

"Just be glad I got here in time," he whispered, and his eyes grew darker. He cupped her cheeks, lowered his mouth, and gently brushed his lips against hers.

The sizzle of heat shot straight to her heart and warmed her from the inside out. All she could manage was a nod. His kiss twisted all her wild emotions into a spinning vortex, allowing her only to react without thought, and she leaned in to kiss him again.