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AMY WOODS believes that real love, while not always easy, is absolutely worth the work. She enjoys writing about imperfect characters who deserve to be loved for all the weird and wonderful things that make up who they are. When she’s not busy writing, Amy likes taking walks with her senior rescue dog and watching movies with a husband she adores.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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But then she heard it again, and this time, the soft, sad little cries were like warm fingers squeezing her heart. As the snow began to fall harder, flakes catching in her eyelashes and forming a thin, shawl-like layer on the red fabric of her coat, June released a great sigh and made the decision to investigate. Whatever was making that noise—please don’t let it be a baby of any kind, she thought—did not belong out there in a lonely alley on a freezing winter’s night.
With the garbage bags out of her hands, June now pulled her coat closer around her and closed all four toggles before carefully descending the loading dock steps. A thin layer of ice had already formed, and she had no intention of tumbling down and breaking a bone or two. She pulled her purse strap up from her shoulder and over her head to secure it tightly, then dug out her cell phone, turning on the flashlight app. Its slim, bright beam shot out into the dark, and June crept slowly behind the pizza shop’s garbage bin, the light illuminating nothing but a coating of grimy snow. She stopped and waited a moment, listening for the sound again so she could follow it to its source. Just as she was about to restart her search, she heard it again; this time, it was more distinct.
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