Inside The Middle Fork

Here are some excerpts:

P. 63
"Here you go again," Sonia shot back. "A couple of big hurricanes don't prove the t-h-e-o-r-y of global warming," she said, elongating the word "theory" for emphasis. "Hurricanes have multi-year cycles. When you take a broad brush and paint everything 'global warming,' you lose your audience for a lot of this hype."

Keith's face was still red, and I could just feel the blood starting to boil in his veins. Sonia wasn't actually pushing the envelope, but she wasn't exactly endearing herself to the PhD from Irvine.

pp. 92-93
I stood face to face with Sonia as we argued. I was adamant, and she was cocksure of herself. Neither of us wanted to give ground. It was a matter of life and death for us both. For her, it was Keith's life. For me, it was our lives. It was my turn in the argument, and I started at her, yelling in her face. Suddenly her right hand darted behind my neck. She cupped the curve of my neck and pulled my head down level with hers. She rocked forward on her toes, and when her mouth met mine, I felt the tension leave my body. She held her warm lips to mine, and I slowly surrounded her body with each of my arms, one at a time, locking them around her lower back. Our lips parted, and she looked at me for a split second before I kissed her again. My arms tightened around her, and the soft flesh of her lips melted my resolve to argue. Now we would walk upriver and wait for the others, I thought. It was still going to be a long afternoon. If we found Keith at all, it would be a terrible sight. We would have to load his body on the raft to take him back, and how was the raft going to get down through this stretch anyway?

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