Soar High – Sons of the Survivalist Read Online Cherise Sinclair

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 117599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)

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Soar High - Sons of the Survivalist

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Cherise Sinclair

Book Information:

She survived.
Kit survived her abusive husband. Survived imprisonment and beatings from the Patriot Zealots. Now free and healing, she can make a new life for herself and her son…except he has attached himself to a terrifying, scarred, tattooed ex-mercenary. Women take one look at him and flee.
An ugly childhood and combat left Hawk with scars, a rasping voice, and an aversion to talking. So, why in hell does the four-year-old stick to him like glue?
The kid’s pretty mother is smarter. There’s fear in her eyes when she looks at Hawk. That hurts. The sweet woman is everything he’s ever wanted—loving, affectionate, and patient. But after what she’s been through, she sure won’t want to be around men—especially the one who killed her husband.
He’d saved her. Kit agrees with her son. Being near Hawk is the safest place on earth. Beneath the menacing appearance, he’s protective…and kind. The better she gets to know him, the more she sees him as a man—a very sexy man. But, considering what had happened to her, she knows—
No man would want her now.
Books by Author:

Cherise Sinclair


When everything seems to be against you, remember that an airplane takes off against the wind, not with it. ~ Henry Ford.

“Keep up, boy.”

The sarge’s firm command jerked Hawk’s attention from where he trudged along the steep trail behind the other three kids. Kinda like he was in the army. In a lot of soldier movies, the badass sergeant was always yelling at some poor bastard. Mako didn’t yell much, but his voice was as big as he was.

Hawk didn’t speed up. He didn’t want to get up all close with his foster-brothers.

Nah, he shouldn’t call them that. The sarge wasn’t running a foster home, and he sure wasn’t their father. He was just the guy who’d taken—rescued—the four of them from a California foster home and brought them to Alaska.

Because the foster father in LA had been a pervert.

Hawk scowled and fell even farther behind. He could still feel the guy’s hands touching him, ripping his shirt. The knee pinning him down to the bed.

Sometimes those memories got mixed up with the beatings his real father had dished out. Sometimes he kinda got caught, like in that steel trap the sarge had showed them. Mako’d been pissed off, cuz the trap was all steel teeth that’d dig into some poor animal.

The shit Hawk’d been through had left behind big holes.

Turning, Gabe gave him a worried look. The kid was ten, a year older than Hawk. He was okay, but kinda like one of those weird dogs that rounded up sheep. Gabe got antsy, like, if he couldn’t keep track of the other boys, they might get hurt or something.

Hawk looked away. Nobody needed to worry about him; nobody ever had before.

“Caz, where’s the closest water?” Mako kept moving up the trail. It wasn’t right. He was old, maybe even fifty or something, but he wasn’t even breathing hard.

The rest of them were panting like dogs in L.A. during the summer.

“Water. It is…” Caz looked around. He was a year younger than Hawk and Bull—and Hawk liked to call him the baby to piss him off an’ make him swear. Not that Hawk usually understood what Cazador said; the baby still dropped into Spanish when he got mad.

Caz’s shoulders hunched. “No sé.”

Hawk didn’t know either.

“Listen,” Mako said. “You got two ears; use them. All of you.”

They stopped to listen. And yeah, Hawk could hear water running. A creek or something. Keeping one hand on the rock wall, he turned his head to try to pinpoint it. It was somewhere way, way, way down the scary-as-shit slope part on the other side of the trail.

Why’re we walking up the side of a mountain, anyway?

They all pointed toward the creek.

“Good. Next time, find it before I ask,” Mako said. “Which way is home?”


Hawk scowled. Guess he’d lived in the log cabin like a month now, so okay, maybe it might kinda be almost home. In the loft, he had a bed and even a box for his stuff. Nobody bothered the shit he found—the eagle feathers, the tiny nest, an eggshell littler than a grape.

Suddenly there was a rattle of stones from behind him. A baby elk darted out and dodged past him, heading up the trail past the others.

Jesus, it was cute.

“Move,” the sarge roared and pointed at something behind Hawk.

What? Glancing over his shoulder, Hawk gasped.

A fucking huge elk charged up the trail—right at him.

He threw himself back—not far enough.

Its giganto-shoulder slammed into him and knocked him toward the drop at the trail’s edge. He screamed in terror. “Nooo!”

Grabbing his shirt, the sarge swung him around and tossed him safely against the cliff wall.

Making weird grunting sounds, the elk mama lunged at Gabe like she wanted to stomp on him.

The kid dove away.

“Leave, dumbass!” The sarge threw a big rock at the beast’s huge nose.

The elk shook its head, then its ears went back again and—

Huddled against the rock wall, Hawk stared as a giant crack appeared right under the animal’s hooves. The trail was falling apart!

“Gabe, get back!” Hawk yelled.

Gabe tried, stumbled, and went down on one knee.

The elk leaped away from the collapsing path and ran after its baby.

Lunging forward, Mako caught Gabe’s collar and threw him farther down the trail, even as the ground disappeared right out from under the sarge’s boots. In a mass of falling rocks and dirt, Mako went over the edge.

“Nooo,” Hawk whispered.

“Mako!” Bull shouted. No answer. Bull started to follow, and more of the trail crumbled away.

“Stop,” Gabe yelled. “Just wait.

Bull paused.

“Hawk, you got rope, right?” Gabe called.

“Yeah.” Hawk dug in his pack and pulled out a bunch of coiled rope. Mako was gonna teach him to use it on the cliffs.

Gabe pointed to a tree off to one side. “Caz, tie it there.”

Cazador scrambled to the spot, caught the rope Hawk tossed him, wrapped it around the tree, and made a solid knot. Something else Mako had taught them.