Title : Karter
Author: Scott Hildreth
Published on : November 22, 2014
Cover design: Creative Book Concepts
Jak is a former Navy SEAL attempting to secretly return to civilian life after a career in the military. For some reason he’s afraid to return to his hometown. He decides to hide in the comfort of Wichita, 30 miles away.
Karter is a gorgeous woman attempting to hide from everyone. She is covered in tattoos, rides a Harley, has a foul mouth, and works as an artist painting abstract art at home. She hates people, and rightfully so. Someone has turned her in to the state for being mentally insane, and although she’s not an addict, she must complete a 28 day drug treatment.
When they meet, it’s magic. The once in a lifetime explosion of emotion, infatuation, and passion we all dream of. Immediately, they both feel love.
Jak is older.
Karter is younger.
For fear of the other person not being able to accept the truth, they each choose to not disclose their age.
But sooner or later, all secrets come to the surface.
And when they do, everything changes.
“Need a ride somewhere?” I asked. “I’m not leaving it here,” she snapped as she pointed toward the cars entering the highway. “Well,” I hesitated as I turned toward the truck. “We can load it in the bed of the truck. I’ve got some tie-down straps in the back.”“You got any ramps?” she raised her eyebrows and pushed her fingers into her back pockets. “No, but we shouldn’t need them. Together we can lift the front tire into the bed, you can get in, and I’ll lift the rear in by myself,” I said confidently. “It’s a full size Harley Softail. It weighs seven fifty,” she chuckled. “Well, it’s worth a try,” I shrugged. “Better not scratch it. I’m Karter,” she said as she reached over the bike. Her hand was covered in grease, paint, and tattoos. Without hesitation, I took her hand in mine and shook it firmly. If she was nothing else, she was an interesting woman. She looked as if she spent a considerable amount of time in the sun, probably on her bike. It was difficult totell her age due to the dark color of her tanned skin, but my guess was somewhere in her latter twenties. “I’m Jak,” I said as we shook. “Yeah, you said that already. I heard you the first time,” she nodded as she released my hand. She swiftly kicked the kick-stand and began pushing the bike toward the rear of the truck. “I got it, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to push this fucker somewhere,” she said as I tried to help her push the bike backward. “Fair enough,” I said as I released the seat from my grasp and smiled. “You said that earlier. Fair enough. Quite a vocabulary you have, Jak,” she smiled as she brought the bike to a stop alongside the rear of the truck. In twenty years of travels, I’d been to more countries than I could ever count, and encountered no less than a million people. I had never, however, been exposed to any woman more brash than Karter. I smiled and rolled my eyes as she positioned the bike in the center of the truck’s bumper. “Just hop in the bed and steady the handlebars,” I said as I lowered the tailgate. “Fair enough,” she responded. I turned to face her and smiled. As she jumped into the bed of the truck, I noticed the knife clipped to her right jeans pocket. Although many people in recent years carried knives, very few chose one worth actually using. She, on the other hand, had selected one worthy of combat. One I would have chosen. “Benchmade. Nice choice,” I nodded as I pulled upward on the handlebars. “Thanks for noticing. Not much sense in carrying some cheap fucker from Wal-Mart. Anything worth doing is worth doing right,” she said as he bent over and reached for the handlebars. “I agree,” I responded. A Benchmade folding combat style knife would cost a civilian roughly three hundred dollars. When a similar but certainly less effective copy could be purchased for one tenth the cost, the few who chose to carry such a blade generally did so for a reason. A gorgeous Harley riding, tattooed, combat knife carrying woman covered in miscellaneous colors of paint and grease. If Karter was doing nothing else, she was capturing my interest. I needed to know more. As soon as the rear tire of the bike entered the bed of the truck, she grinned as if she wondered all along whether or not I could have actually lifted it. “So you’re more than just big and sexy. You’re actually useful, Jak. You hold it steady, and I’ll strap it down,” she said as she straightened the handlebars. She thinks I’m sexy. Well, Karter, the feeling is mutual. “Fair enough,” I chuckled. Maybe retirement wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Scott Hildreth was born in San Diego, California and now resides in Wichita, Kansas.
He lives a simple life of reading, writing and riding his motorcycle. When he isn't writing, you may find him in a local coffee shop, tattoo parlor or riding his Harley.
Scott is a proud father and lives devoted to the love of his life, Jessica.
His exposures in life and his experience in writing allow him to cross many genres and do so with a high degree of accuracy.
Scott's novels include Broken People, Undefeated, Unstoppable, Unleashed, Unbroken, Baby Girl - Ruined, Baby Girl - Owned, Baby Girl - Loved, To the Depths of Hell, The Alpha-Bet, Finding Parker, and Karter
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