Outside the car window, in a grassy field, an adorable baby deer nuzzled its mother.
He tightened the harness across her chest and leaned over her. His stale, smoky breath filled her nostrils. She twisted suddenly to the left, pulled up her knees as far as she could and kicked hard at his head.
The dappled sunlight illuminated the Columbia River as it gracefully twisted through the canyon, like liquid gold shimmering.
He was out of reach. The sheet had slid off the bed. Her nightdress had come up above her hips. She could sense his gross excitement pulsating in the dark.
A sweet breeze was blowing across the endlessly beautiful fields of alfalfa causing it to slowly sway back and forth.
He undoubtedly had an erection. She knew that he would reach out and touch her.
An early snow had fallen in the evening and left the highest peaks frosted. Hawks and eagles rode the morning air currents doing their graceful dance in the canyons.
It was her twentieth day as his captive.
And that is why I hate audio books. I don't get it. How can anyone listen to these things and drive through beautiful country at the same time. They just don't mix.