Might want to read Riley's Journey first (99 cents on Amazon) http://www.amazon.com/Rileys-Journey-ebook/dp/B005SV26KS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1354375534&sr=1-1&keywords=riley%27s+journey+by+p.+l.+parker Into the Savage Dawn is the sequel. Submitted the third in the series, Beyond Tomorrow, just recently and am waiting for word from publisher.
Into the Savage Dawn excerpt:
The sun rose higher, spreading warmth—at least warmth in these climes. It was never too warm for her. By her reckoning, it was noon or shortly before. She pulled the wet jerkin off, shivering as the cool air blasted her skin. Edging sideways, she leaned back, stretching as far as she could, and grabbed the leather pack, clutching it to her breast. She rubbed the fur against her face, needed the small security it gave her. She was so alone!
She briefly considered washing the dirt and dried blood off, but that might start the bleeding again. The predators would be drawn to the scent of fresh blood wafting on the breeze, even those miles away. She suspected they were already on her trail, stalking her and waiting for the right moment to attack. A cold tremor of fear raced up her spine. She had few defenses right now and it wouldn’t take much to bring her down. Easy pickings!
She needed to up her odds. She found a good muddy spot, eased herself down and rolled, taking time to slop a good portion to the cut over her eye. Might blunt the smell a little bit, but damn it was cold! The vigorous exercise shot hot flashes of excruciating pain up her thigh and into her butt. She gritted her teeth, enduring the sharp jolts until they subsided, bemoaning her weakness. When she could, she dragged herself to a dry spot open to the sunshine. She pulled a dry vest from her pack and pulled it on, grateful for its meager warmth. Her legs tingled with cold, but the wet pants would have to stay wet. She didn’t have any others and she couldn’t chance loosening the bindings she’d so painstakingly wrapped around her knee.
Suffering a moment of despair, she closed her eyes, visualizing Seth, whispering his name. Seth—don’t leave me!
She heaved a sigh, wiping a tired hand across her forehead. Time to get moving. She crawled higher up the slope, clambering through the brush, searching until she found another walking stick. Not so fine as the earlier one, but serviceable all the same. She laid out her small cache of weapons, examining each with an eye to detail. The throwing knives were tucked into a cleverly designed pouch sewn to her waistband, within easy reach. Crowing with delight, she spotted a gnarled root, the size and shape such that it would make a reasonable war club. Wiggling it free from the ground, she tied the handle with a leather thong from her pack and wrapped it around her wrist for easy access. As ready as she could be, she pulled herself to a stand, and hobbled toward the rising sun, cursing her feebleness.