Excerpts....

...The mountain morning fogs drifting up from Asturias were famous. Marisol woke before Steven and went out trying not to disturb him. Dressed for the high cold she wandered away from the lodge and stepped into the meadow. The grass was wet with the early morning air. The fog was caressing her, thick, silent, cold . It gave her a place where she felt enveloped, hidden, safe. In the small breaks above, she caught the red glow of sunrise through the passes. Then a small bell. Then another getting a bit closer coming up across the valley. The bark of a dog, then another. The fog opened like a rising white lace drapery and the sheep moved towards her. A lone Catalan herder followed on horseback a few meters behind with his dog moving the sheep along. The fog lifted to reveal the full scope of the valleys and peaks, the green high pastures and the shepherd in his beret slouched half asleep in his saddle. She sighed and thought, “These mountains! The Pyrenees! Whenever I am here it is like heaven. No wonder they want their own country back. They deserve their own country. But now they are only expendable pieces in a game, a serious game.”

Excerpt from "The Lithium Desert War", a Marisol Thriller! Coming in June!