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Alaska Blaze
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Saving himself and these dogs would be a tricky maneuver. Cohen had no time to lose. Ash and embers scorched his tongue as if the devil was licking it. Hot air pressed down on him. He couldn’t swallow—no saliva. I’m out of time! Time to deploy my fire shelter. How will I fit three adult dogs, me, and a sack load of puppies inside my shelter? Cohen stuck the neck of the burlap sack in his teeth, as he couldn’t set the puppies down in the water. He reached behind and retrieved his fire shelter. He tugged it from the case, yanked the cords, and shook it out. “Rooby! Wacko! Come here!” he commanded, spitting around the burlap clenched in his teeth. The terrified dogs sidled in next to him, and he crouched down, spreading the fire shelter over them. He tied the end of Madonna’s rope around the neck of the sack and draped it around his neck, so the sack hung on his left side. As long as Madonna sat in front of him and wouldn’t bolt, this might work. He wrapped a corner of the shelter around Rooby and another around Wacko and held the corners with each hand. This has to work. He had no other choice. They couldn’t outrun this fast-moving wildfire. He tasted ash, a bitter mixture of wood and dirt. The fire bellowed like a savage dragon, hellbent to destroy in the blink of an eye what took decades to grow and mature. Don’t panic! Keep it together. If I panic, the dogs will, and we’ll all go up in smoke. Cohen held the shelter down over the dogs and himself as best he could, pressing the dogs close to him. Flames swept the clearing from all directions, obliterating all sound except their tornadic roar. Crouching low in the water, he did his best to keep the puppies above the boggy surface—and prayed the dogs wouldn’t panic and run—or they’d all die. A dog barked; Cohen didn’t know who. Another yipped and cried. Madonna howled and Cohen felt her tense and brace, as if ready to run. “Whoa, Madonna, whoa Madonna…” He didn’t know how many times he repeated the husky’s name as the raging fire whipped around them. The natural water barrier certainly helped, but the winds tore at his shelter. He gripped it so tight he worried his hands would cramp and lose their hold. Despite his layers of protective Nomex, heat encased his fire shelter and pierced him as if he was the delicacy cooking on a closed outdoor grill. The hot destructive flames licked at the very edges of his shelter. He prayed it wouldn’t melt and collapse on him. A burning tree crashed into the bog in front of them, and Madonna yelped. The husky yanked away from their huddle, and Cohen watched helplessly as the sled dog bolted, jerking the burlap sack from around his neck and dragging the bundle of puppies through the water—straight toward the destructive flames. 
GIVEAWAY! --
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