We’re back in business and today offer you a book for review as part of our Books For Review programme. This time we’ve got The Bodyguard by Ruchi Singh. There are only 5 copies available for review – so grab yours as fast as you can!
The Bodyguard – Blurb
Someone wants Vikramaditya Seth Jr. dead.
He refuses the Z+ security option offered by the government. With too many variables trust is hard to come by…
Esha Sinha prepares for her first assignment outside of active army service, oblivious to the fact that she has to baby-sit a man who has no respect for rules or protocol—a man who is headstrong, workaholic and a tenacious flirt. As the attraction between Vikram and Esha simmers and sizzles, another attempt is made on his life.
The killer is resourceful and determined.
The motive is unclear and perplexing.
Will they be able to nab the assassin before he gets to Vikram?
About the Author
Author of the bestselling romantic thriller ‘The Bodyguard’, Ruchi Singh is an IT professional turned novelist. Her other published novels are ‘Take 2’ and ‘Jugnu (Firefly)’. Winner of TOI Write India Season 1, Ruchi has also published a short story collection, ‘Hearts and Hots’, besides being a contributing author to many anthologies.
Excerpt from The Body Guard
4th November, 4:30 PM
It was cold.
The first thought that came to her mind as Esha gained consciousness was that she was cold and weak. The second thought brought in acute panic. She couldn’t move! Though fully clothed, she was drenched with, what seemed like, water. And she couldn’t move. Memories came rushing, overwhelming her senses. Koel was his accomplice! Goddamn! Fear made her stomach churn and her skin broke into painful goosebumps.
As her eyes focused on her surroundings, Esha found herself in a small, eight by eight room that had a single, narrow iron bed and a chair at the foot. Yellow glow emanated from the earthen lamp on the floor and the fire in the havankund.
The massive life-size black idol on the wall opposite to her and the Mahakaali yantra pattern on the floor didn’t surprise her, but fear knotted her stomach as her gaze landed on the man clad in a loin cloth, sitting cross-legged in front of the havankund. He muttered rhythmically under his breath as he put something in the fire at regular intervals. The pallor of his skin matched the fake skull garland around the deity’s neck. Thank God she could make out that they were fake.
The flickering shadows from the crackling fire, and the massive, sharp knife kept on side of the pattern sent slivers of fear cascading down her toes.
Clamping down the feeling of doom, she concentrated on the room. Since when she had been lying here? There was not a single opening in the room through which she could make out the time of the day. Stark white walls and the crude cemented floor told her that someone who didn’t have much skill in masonry did it.
She was tied on an iron bed—she judged from the rods cold against her arm. Her left arm was tied to a crude wooden scale and jutted out from the bed. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the positives. She could move her fingers and toes, an action that ruled out any extensive injury. But her arms ached. The injured shoulder had become stiff and the left arm had a series of cuts. She craned her neck and spotted a brass vessel kept below her arm that collected the blood. Her blood!
Some cuts had stopped bleeding and blood had coagulated leaving ugly maroon welts, but some bled with varied speed. No wonder she felt weak. The bed squeaked as she struggled against the nylon ropes tying her.
The man opened his eyes and turned towards her. Recognition dawned.
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