Fatal Love by Misty Evans

15826918_10211462501536738_7737541322673404276_nGirl or boy? Find out what Cal and Beatrice are having in this Shadow Force International Worlds novella! And meet Connor and Sabrina – two SFI members who must overcome their inner demons in order to find love in the middle of chaos.

Once upon a time, former Navy SEAL Callan Reese risked everything to protect his estranged wife from the enemies who wanted her dead. Now reunited and expecting their first child, Cal’s past makes Beatrice a target once again.

When Beatrice is kidnapped by a desperate woman bent on revenge, Cal must put everything on the line in the most dangerous mission of his life to keep her and their unborn child alive.

Things aren’t going well for Beatrice as a deranged woman breaks into her house while she is in the middle of labor.  Cal tries to keep the intruders at bay while his wife tries to deliver their baby safely.  But Beatrice being Beatrice, she tires her  damnedest to help even while in childbirth. She even starts shooting her gun when her attacker draws closer. How badass is that? Cal is the only one who can talk her down the ledge of putting herself, and the baby in more danger.

Help does come along with some new team members.  Connor, who suffers from PTSD and Sabrina, who also has her fair share of things to deal with.  As things come to a head can the intruders be dealt with before any harm can come to B and her baby?

It’s good to have more characters introduced to the series and that of course means more books!

I love how well written Misty’s characters are, as well as how much she researches her stories.  This is pretty intense for a novella and brings home her skills as a writer.  It’s fact paced, intense and a wild ride from start to finish!

ARC provided by author in exchange for a fair and honest review.

4/5 stars

Crash

 

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* * *

About the Author

Misty Evans PhotoUSA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their books – and their dreams of being published – to life.

The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award, CAPA nominations, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and the ACRA Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2011.

Her Witches Anonymous series was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. The Super Agent Series, Witches Anonymous Series, and the Kali Sweet Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists. Her culinary romantic mystery, THE SECRET INGREDIENT, and the first book in her Deadly series, DEADLY PURSUIT, are both USA TODAY bestsellers.

Misty likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies.

Connect with Misty: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Newsletter / Pinterest
Excerpt from Fatal Love

FATAL LOVE, A Shadow Force International Worlds Novella
By Misty Evans

EXCERPT

Connor McKenzie woke to the phone blaring in his ear.
Probably because he was sleeping on top of it.
Drooling on it as well, because when he jerked back, his instincts automatically directed his hand to the handset, and he found slime all over the black SFI office phone.
Gross.
Of course, since he’d been working 24/7 with no time off, he hadn’t seen his bed since zero dark thirty-seven…no, make that eight, since the clock on the phone’s readout said it was after midnight.
Rubbing his eyes as the phone blared again, he pushed up off of his desk and cleared his throat. Near the desk, Maggie raised her big, black head and looked at him with her perpetually sad Labrador eyes.
Being the office manager for Rock Star Security came with a lot of perks. RSS was the front for Shadow Force International, where former SEALs roamed the hallways, covertly saving the free world on a daily basis. Connor was constantly surrounded by men he respected and who respected him. They understood each other; understood what each other had been through. Add to that the fact Beatrice let him bunk two floors up in an office he’d converted to a bedroom, and it was the best home he’d ever had. The bedroom wasn’t much, but it beat living out of his car.
Maggie was another perk. He loved that dog. Meeting his eyes, she wagged her tail with a solid thump-thump-thump against the floor.
She was always up for an adventure, and good to have around because of his PTSD. She didn’t have any training, but Cal had told Connor she’d saved his mental health many times. The dog had kept Connor from sinking into a dark hole on more than one occasion as well.
Technically since he lived upstairs, Connor could go home anytime he wanted, even though no one was in the office to man the phones but him. He and Rory had set up a system that transferred all calls to Connor’s phone in his bedroom when he quit for the day or needed down time. Beatrice didn’t trust an answering service with the particular calls that might come in from Rock Stars or SFI operatives.
Connor opened his tired eyes and caught sight of the blinking button on the phone as the damn thing continued to ring insistently. Red, not orange. The private line Emit had for the managers to use when they needed immediate assistance.
Shit. Grabbing one of the napkins from the pizza he’d half eaten earlier, he wiped off the drool from the handset and punched the button under the red, blinking light. “This is Slash. How may I direct your call?”
SFI rules were that they never identified the business when answering on the off chance it was a wrong number or one of them had been compromised. Beatrice was strict about that. While the cell phones every employee used were secure, breaches could happen. All personnel used code names and had to answer a security question before discussing any Rock Star or SFI business.
Just in case, Beatrice always said.
Connor had the feeling he didn’t want to know what just in case meant. He also didn’t want to know what might happen if he failed her.
“Con, we’re in trouble.”
Connor sat straight up, nearly knocking over his Coke. The voice on the other end was low and guarded, and the person had already broken protocol.
But it was a voice he knew well, and a person he definitely didn’t want to fail to help. If anything, he hoped to get on the guy’s SFI squad one of these days. “Sir? Please state your security clearance code.”
“Fuckin’ A, that’s my security code,” Cal Reese quipped. “We need help. We need reinforcements.”
“Are you in imminent danger?”
“Yes. The queen bee is in the hive and she is in imminent danger.”
“But sir, there are no…”
The line when dead.
“…reinforcements,” Connor finished.
He stared at the handset. The queen bee was Beatrice. The hive was her and Cal’s home.
Beatrice was in imminent danger.
At home.
From whom? From what?
Fuck on a stick. Connor dropped the handset into its cradle, his guts turning over on themselves.
Emit, Rory, Jax, and Colton were all still in Chicago, opening the new Central Division Rock Star headquarters. Obviously, Cal, Beatrice, and Trace Hunter were back, but the rest of the Rock Stars and SFI operatives were working, many of them out of the country.
RS bodyguards couldn’t simply leave their clients. Ditto for the SFI operatives who were undercover on assignments at all four corners of the earth.
Connor started to lift the handset again and call Miles, but no, Miles was in San Diego, once more running the West Coast SFI office.
Which meant he was out of options.
Zeb. Yeah, he’d call the old spymaster…
His out-of-options list grew. Zeb had gone to Chicago with Beatrice. Connor hadn’t heard from him. Had he come back with Cal and the others or stayed in Chicago?
A burning sensation started in his gut while icy pinpricks attacked the base of his spine. Both spread like blood from a gunshot wound, making his body tremble and his breathing come in short, barely-there intakes.
Beatrice was in danger. Real danger if Cal was ignoring protocol and calling him for backup. Callan Reese was a former SEAL who’d saved the president in front of the entire world.
Beatrice’s personal bodyguard was Trace Hunter. Another former SEAL with superhuman powers. The guy belonged in a Marvel comic book for realz.
If both of them couldn’t handle whatever trouble Beatrice was in, well, then… How the hell was he supposed to?
His hand shook as he jammed his fingers through his hair. Get up, he told himself, but he couldn’t make his legs move. They were frozen stiff.
Not now! He couldn’t let his PTSD handcuff him.
Breathe. Beatrice was always telling him to take a deep breath and focus on one thing. A trick she’d learned from Hunter.
Grabbing the handset, he dialed Zeb, hoping against hope the old man was back in DC. Bracing the handset between his ear and shoulder, he woke up the computer and started shutdown procedures. He’d never had to do it before and another moment of indecision and self-doubt caught him with his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
He never left the office unless his backup, usually Rory or the new lab tech, Sabrina, was available to answer phones and handle emergencies.
Zeb’s phone rang three times. Voicemail answered. Connor left a quick SOS and asked Zeb to call him back.
What now? Should he gear up and head to Cal and Beatrice’s?
What about the baby?
If anything happened to any one of them…
Breathe…
Maggie whimpered, drawing his gaze. She sat beside the desk, tail rapping the floor and stuck her head in his lap.
There was no time to pet the dog, but his hand had a mind of its own, naturally going to Maggie’s head and rubbing her sleek, soft fur. His breathing resumed a semi-normal in-out rhythm after a moment and his mind re-engaged.
Grasping at straws, he dialed the lab extension, hoping against hope that Sabrina might somehow still be in the building. He’d never seen her leave—one of the reasons he routinely stayed at the desk so late every night was for that very reason. He enjoyed watching her sexy legs in those righteous high-heeled boots walk past his desk every evening. He loved her red hair and the way she teased him about being a camo-wearing receptionist, even though the term ‘receptionist’ made his ego smart.
From big, tough, badass SEAL to a useless receptionist. His life had gone to hell, thanks to 12 September.
Bastards.
Still petting Maggie with one hand, he closed off the black hole that sucked at him every time he thought of the terrorist group.
Bzzz-bzzz. The phone on Sabrina’s end rang again. It was Saturday night. A beautiful, smart, hip gal like her couldn’t possibly still be working this late on a Saturday night, could she?
“Conmeister?” Her voice was rough and sexy, like he’d woken her from a nap. He heard her yawn. “It’s nearly two a.m. What are you still doing at the main desk?”
God Almighty, he hated it when people called him nicknames, but hearing any version of his name coming from Sabrina’s luscious mouth was heaven. She got a free pass, regardless of what she wanted to call him.
“What are you still doing in the lab?”
She chuckled. “Touché. What’s up?”
“SOS from Cal. He and B got home from Chicago but something’s wrong. I don’t know what. He must have thought his cell was compromised because he was speaking in code, but he used my name, which is like, I don’t know what. I think he was definitely shook up.”
She was fully awake now. “Oh, shit. What can I do?”
“Man the phones and watch Maggie for me. I’m gearing up and heading their way.”
Her voice was full of indignation. “No way! Not without me. Who did you call for backup?”
“There is no one. Everyone is working or out of town.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Connor opened his bottom drawer and pulled out his Beretta PX4 Storm and checked the clip. Full. “With the addition of the San Diego and Chicago satellites, we’re short on staff. Literally, there’s just you and me in DC at this moment. We can’t leave the phones unmanned, so tag, you’re it.”
“Why don’t you call the cops?”
If Cal had thought the police could handle it, he would have dialed 911 himself. Whatever this was, he didn’t want them involved. “I’ve got to go.”
He hung up on her protest, punched the button to transfer incoming calls to the lab phone, told Maggie to stay, and headed for the weapons room.
Preparing for the enemy was challenging when you had no clue who the enemy was.
Pretend it’s a sleeper cell of 12 September. If you were taking them on, what would you bring?
A rocket launcher.
The biggest one he could carry, in fact.
SFI’s weapons room had plenty of firepower, but they did not, in fact, have any rocket launchers.
A shame, that. He mentally added it to his inventory list for next month.
Connor snatched a black duffel from a shelf and started throwing in grenades, a couple of H&K submachine guns, ammo, and a sweet sniper rifle he’d been dying to use.
He was strapping on a vest when Sabrina came skidding into the room in her socks. Her boots were in-hand, her hair flat on one side, totally sexy and tousled on the opposite.
Probably what she looked like when she first got up in the morning.
And damn, if her big brown eyes and that crazy hair didn’t make him hard.
“You’re not leaving without me, Conmeister.” She slipped on one boot—with a 3-inch black heel—jumping and hobbling on her other foot, and breathing heavy from her run to catch him. She was dressed from head to toe in red like always.
A deep burgundy red that totally clashed with her copper colored hair.
Connor tore his gaze away from her full lips and even fuller cleavage on display from the deep V of her silky shirt. She continued hopping on her foot as she pulled on the second high heel, the action jiggling her double-Ds and making his hard-on downright painful. “I’m totally leaving without you, Red.”
“Bullshit!” She snatched a bulletproof vest from the wall and shoved her arms through the holes. “You have no idea what you’re walking into. This is Beatrice we’re talking about!”
He slammed the cage shut on the submachine gun selection and locked it. “I’ll handle it, whatever it is.”
“Look,” she said, grabbing his arm. “I know I was just a chopper pilot and I never saw action like you did when I was in the Navy, but I know how to handle a gun. At least let me fly you to their house and set up a stakeout. I can have you there in fifteen. It will take you at least thirty by car.”
Fly? “Unless you have a magic carpet hiding under your lab coat, how are you going to fly me anywhere?”
Sabrina grinned, shrugging out of the lab coat and putting on the vest. “You know the helo pad on the U-Comm building at the end of the block? There’s an EC 145 that can cruise at 150 miles per hour easy. I happen to know the owner and we can use it, no questions asked.”
This woman in red was a mystery, but then, so were many of the people that worked for SFI. “You’re friends with the owner of one of the most expensive luxury helicopters available in the marketplace today?”
She grinned again. “More than friends, actually.”
Connor’s hard-on softened. “I don’t think your boyfriend will appreciate you taking his helo on a rescue mission.”
And if your boyfriend is a millionaire, why are you here working tonight?
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sabrina said, grabbing a .38 mil from the handguns. “He’s my dad.”
* * *

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Deadly Attraction by Misty Evans

 

deadly-attractionHis twin brother is dead and the only way National Intelligence officer, Mitch Holden, is going to make it through the holidays is by staying focused on his latest SCVC Taskforce investigation—catching a homegrown terrorist with a penchant for arson. The terrorist has started a wildfire eating up thousands of acres of forest and putting dozens of people in danger. When Mitch is pulled off that assignment to play bodyguard to a sexy forensic psychologist who sees past all his defenses, he ends up in the middle of a personal wildfire that’s as out of control as the one burning around the two of them.

The trial that should have made her career cost Dr. Emma Collins everything—her home, her future, the baby that was growing inside her after she testified against famous actor Chris Goodsman, debunking his insanity defense and sending him to prison for murder. Rebuilding her life in the aftermath, Emma now rescues horses, dogs, and juvenile delinquents, and there’s no way she’s heading to a safe house because Chris Goodsman has escaped. She refuses to let anyone terrorize her or destroy her life again. But when a smart-talking, irresistible federal agent shows up insisting he has to protect her, she realizes her new bodyguard needs a bit of therapy. Good thing taking in lost causes happens to be her specialty.

Two people filled with grief may get burned…

Trapped at the ranch by the wildfire, Mitch and Emma explore a searing attraction, but soon discover they’re not alone. A killer has joined them—one who will do anything to get revenge and isn’t afraid to take out anyone who gets in his way

Both Mitch and Emma hate the Christmas holiday, each for their own reason.  Mitch because he lost his twin brother on Christmas Eve in a rescue mission gone wrong that was led by Mitch and Emma because the  baby she lost.  Both carry around  deep pain.  Where Mitch tries to ignore it, Emma buries it deep so she cane care for not only the people in her life but for her patients as well.

Emma is strong, she doesn’t let things get to her. She is the calm in the storm, even when things hit close to home she wraps her emotions up tight and doesn’t let danger bother her.  If she went around loosing her head every time a client may or may not come after her, her life would fall to pieces.

You can feel the rage building up in Mitch.  Emma wont leave to go to a safe house, determined to no be driven out of her home.  He can’t protect her the way he wants too.  He is angry at the cat and mouse game that Chris is playing with them.

This story doesn’t really show you who is causing havoc in Emma’s life.  We know who is coming after her but is he truly the one that has been playing a game with her or is it someone else?  There are things going on but  Mitch, Emma and even Will can’t get to those who are behind the threat because they are like a mist in the backdrop of the forest fire raging around them. It’s unsettling enough when you know who is after you but it’s in the way that its done that makes it creepy, more of a psychological torment than an actual physical one.

With each book you find out more about different fields of medicine, military tactics, criminal behaviour, Mafia and everything in between!  Misty does an amazing amount of research for each of her books and it shows with the detail that is provided in each story.  That is why I love reading her books, there is so much attention to detail, a strong plot, along with hot men and steamy romance.

ARC provided by author in exchange for a fair and honest review

4/5 stars

Crash

Buy:Amazon

Buy: Amazon UK

Buy: B&N

 

Misty Evans PhotoAbout the Author

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their books – and their dreams of being published – to life.

The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award, CAPA nominations, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and the ACRA Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2011.

Her Witches Anonymous series was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. The Super Agent Series, Witches Anonymous Series, and the Kali Sweet Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists. Her culinary romantic mystery, THE SECRET INGREDIENT, and the first book in her Deadly series, DEADLY PURSUIT, are both USA TODAY bestsellers.

Misty likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies.

Connect with Misty: Website/ Facebook/Twitter/ Goodreads / Newsletter / Pinterest

 

***Part of the proceeds from the sales of this book will be donated to Rescue Dogs Rock NYC. Fans who know me know I’m a huge dog lover and I love to support shelters. Please check out RDRNYC’s Facebook page and consider adopting a dog or sending in your own donation! https://www.facebook.com/RescueDogsRockNyc ****

 

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Tour-wide giveaway includes a $25.00 Gift Card to Amazon. Just fill out the Rafflecopter Form below to enter!

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Blog Tour Schedule

Joyfully Reviewed

11/7/2016

Men Behaving Badly Book Blog

11/7/2016

So Many Reads

11/8/2016

Long and Short Reviews

11/9/2016

Lushbookreviews

11/10/2016

Cricket’s Chirps

11/10/2016

The Book Beacon

11/11/2016

The Book Beacon

11/11/2016

Nicole’s Book Musings

11/12/2016

Renee Entress’s Blog

11/13/2016

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11/13/2016

C K Crouch

11/13/2016

Ariesgrl Book Reviews

11/14/2016

Becky on Books

11/15/2016

Reading on the Rocks

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Happiness is a book

11/16/2016

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Straight Shootin’ Book Reviews

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11/18/2016

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11/18/2016

 

 

Q&A with Misty Evans

I have been thinking about doing Q&A’s with authors and approached Misty Evans about taking part and she graciously agreed.

 

Crash: Misty can I say how thrilled I am that you have agreed to take part in my first author Q&A! The first books of yours I read were the Kali Sweet books and I have been hooked ever since.  I am secretly holding out that one day you will write more to that series lol. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to take part in this Q&A.

ME: Chris! Thank you for inviting me. I’m excited to be here and hang out with one of my favorite readers! It’s an honor to be the first to do an interview on your blog.

And yes, I’m working on another Kali Sweet book! Romantic Suspense is my bread and butter, and with two kids in college, I have to work in the genre that pays the bills. Urban fantasy has been on the downhill for a few years now, so Kali doesn’t get as much time as I’d like during my normal workweeks. I miss her! She’s such a kick-ass character.

Crash: I Miss Kali as well and am glad she will make a comeback!  

Crash: How long have you been a writer?

ME: I’ve been writing since 4th grade when I won 2nd place in a school contest with an essay about my dad. It was published in the local paper and I’ve been writing off and on ever since. LOL. When I graduated from college, I entered the business world and spent 10 years there before having twins and becoming a stay-at-home mom. Then the writing bug hit again. ☺

Crash: What made you become a writer?

ME: 9/11. I’d always dreamed of being an author and suddenly realized tomorrow wasn’t a given. If I was going to do it, I had to set real goals and carve out time to take writing classes, plot stories, and put my fingers on the keyboard.

Crash: You have written in a few different genres, which is your favorite?

ME: I get that question a lot, and I have to say, I love them all. I wouldn’t write in a genre I didn’t love with all my heart. Each one has its good points and allows me to use my very active imagination. Take Kali Sweet, for instance. I get to channel my inner demon in order to writer her. It’s better than therapy!

Crash: In your Shadow Force International and Southern California series there seems to be a lot of research done on your part. Just how much time do you spend researching and how do you find out most of your information?

ME: Research is half the fun with any of my books, but the RS books definitely require a lot. I easily spend an hour or more everyday when working on those books, researching everything from gang tattoos to how to make a car bomb. I’m blessed to have real world contacts too – people who’ve been in the world of law enforcement and spies. ER nurses who can advise me about gunshot wounds, etc. Readers are savvy these days from shows like CSI and NCIS so it’s important that my facts are accurate as well as dramatic.

Crash: Again with regards to the series in Q4, do you base some of these stories on real life events?

ME: Ideas for plots are everywhere, and fact is often stranger than fiction, as the saying goes. I don’t listen to the news or read newspapers, but on occasion when researching, I stumble across an idea or character that spawns an entire story

Crash: What kind of books do you read?

ME: Everything! Fiction and nonfiction both. My TBR pile on my ereader and my bedside table grows all the time.

Crash: What gives you joy in your everyday life?

ME: Family, friends, coffee and yoga. ☺ I’m a registered yoga teacher and have many interests outside of writing. Some days, it’s crazy-making, juggling my schedule, but bottom line, I love everything I do and all the people I meet, online and in-person.

Crash: Misty it was wonderful to learn more about you.  Thank you for your time and I look forward to your next book, I think that will be in November is that correct?

ME: Yes! The next SCVC Taskforce series novel, Deadly Attraction, releases November 7th. This one features Mitch Holden and Dr. Emma Collins, a forensic psychiatrist who needs protection when a criminal she testified against escapes prison and comes after her.

Thank you for having me today, Chris! Always fun to chat with you, and I appreciate your support of my books. Take care and happy reading!

 

Fatal Courage by Misty Evans

He ruined her career….image

In twenty-one missions, CIA golden girl Ruby McKellen has failed only once. Thanks to Navy SEAL Jaxon Sloan, the man who stole her heart and forced her to choose between him and her partner Elliot, she’s on probation and Elliot is in prison for national security crimes. To prove Elliot’s innocence and save her damaged career, Ruby is running an unsanctioned mission—but the only way to get the proof she needs is to go to Jax with her tail between her legs.

She wrecked his heart…

Jaxon left the Navy after the mission with Ruby in Morocco went south, but that one hot, unbelievable night with her will haunt him forever. Working for Shadow Force International now, his new assignment has brought him full circle—the CIA operative Jax’s testimony sent to prison has escaped and Jax has been ordered to hunt him down. Just like in Morocco, the one thing standing in his way is Ruby.

A second chance at love could prove fatal…

When Ruby’s life is threatened and Jax stumbles on information that might prove Elliot is innocent, guilt over putting the man in prison compels him to join her unsanctioned mission. What really happened that night six months ago? Is Elliot an honorable spy or a mastermind at manipulation? Ruby is the only one who can help Jax navigate the world of undercover lies and betrayal to find the truth.

 

Ruby is trying to clear her partners name after a botched mission that involved national security crimes, lands him in jail. The man who testified against him, Jax, was hired to hunt him down when word get out that Elliot, Ruby’s former partner has escaped from prison.

Ruby is the first person who Jax goes to knowing that Elliot will make contact with. Jax, Ruby and Elliot share a past and as Ruby proclaims his innocence Jax isn’t convinced. After sharing a one night stand with Ruby during the mission that had gone wrong, will their feelings get in the way when their lives and the life of Elliot hangs in the balance. Ruby wants answers to what happened in the botched mission in Marrakech and is willing to do anything to get those answers.
There is much more that went on behind the failed mission that Ruby now thinks that her partner may be guilty after all.

There is a lot going on in this book, so many layers that it’s hard to keep track of and who is behind what. It makes for fascinating reading and keeps you guessing up to the end. I loved how loyal Ruby was even when it seemed that everything she thought about Elliot was wrong she still stood by him. The amount of betrayal on all fronts leaves her battered but still fighting. Jax isn’t willing to let her go through it alone and stands behind her even when she put herself in danger to get the answers she is so desperate for.

Misty has a way of writing that is spellbinding, it draws you in and doesn’t let you go. You are transported to the world she has created and hate to see the last few pages dwindle away. The action scenes are top notch. The research that is involved and the attention to detail is incredible. She creates characters and situations that are very realistic. This series keeps get stronger with each book. Misty is my favorite action/romance writer and I always look forward to her next book, they never dissapoint!

ARC provided by author in exchange for a fair and honest review.

5/5 stars

Crash

Buy:Amazon

Buy:Amazon UK

Buy:B&N

 

About the AuthorMisty Evans Photo

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their books – and their dreams of being published – to life.

The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award, CAPA nominations, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and the ACRA Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2011.

Her Witches Anonymous series was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. The Super Agent Series, Witches Anonymous Series, and the Kali Sweet Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists. Her culinary romantic mystery, THE SECRET INGREDIENT, and the first book in her Deadly series, DEADLY PURSUIT, are both USA TODAY bestsellers.

Misty likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies.

Connect with Misty: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Newsletter / Pinterest

* * *

 

Giveaway Information

Tour-wide giveaway includes a $25.00 Amazon Gift Card

 

Rafflecopter Link:

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Blog Tour Stops

Follow the rest of the blog tour to read what others have to say about the book!

August 22, 2016
Fictional Rendezvous Book Blog
Scandalous Book Blog
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August 23, 2016
Cricket’s Chirps
Becky on Books

August 24, 2016
Amy’s Blog
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Harlie’s Books

Fatal Truth by Misty Evans

FatalTruths600x900Summary:

She’s an investigative reporter who lives to uncover the truth.
Feisty television host, Savanna Bunkett, exposes government coverups on her award-winning show, The Bunk Stops Here. When she digs into a rumor about a top secret government project that’s producing “super soldiers” for the president, she suddenly finds herself on an assassin’s hit list.

He’s the man who knows the truth.
Navy SEAL Lieutenant Trace Hunter is the only soldier to survive Project 24. After refusing a direct order from the president, he was branded a traitor, and his career imploded after the sexy reporter turned him into a national headline. He now works undercover for Shadow Force International, a secret group of former SEALs helping those who have no where else to turn, using his enhanced skills to fight for justice and protect the innocent. His first assignment? Protect Savanna from the one man who wants them both dead—the president.

One wrong move and they’ll be silenced forever.
Helping Savanna is the last thing Trace wants to do, but her unwavering determination to expose the president’s dark truth matches his own. She’s his one chance to set the record straight and he’s her only chance at survival. When their mutual enemy closes in, can they put the past behind them and trust each other? Even if it means losing their hearts in the process? Or will secrets, lies, and forbidden passions cost them everything?

 

This is the first book in the Shadow Force International series. I always look forward to a new Misty Evans book and this is no exception. I love how she weaves the story to make you feel like you are there looking at what is happening. This one has some secrets involving Trace and while he knows who Savanna is, she seems to be oblivious as to who he is and how she has damaged his life. Savanna’s sister Parker plays a big part in this as well and has her own secrets to hide, and between Trace and her Parker it’s no wonder that the president has it in for her. The story line is quick and face paced but the romance side of it is slower this time, it takes it’s time and it makes a change from some books that have the main characters falling into each other within the first few chapters.

Savanna is fiery and tries to duck out of Trace’s protection as much as possible making his task even harder. As fiery as she is, he is just as fierce in protecting her. There is a lot at stake in keeping her safe and out of the way of assassins bullets.

There is plenty of conspiracies, action and romance for any one who loves action/romance reads! Likeable and believable characters and a fantastic story line, I can’t wait for the next book!

5/5 stars

Crash

 

Buy: Amazon

Buy: Amazon UK

 

Excerpt from Fatal Truth by Misty Evans

 

Trace climbed the stairs two at a time, the stairwell of the fancy apartment building empty at the dinner hour. Or maybe the rich snobs who lived here were too good to take the stairs.

He was two hours late. Not the best way to start his first assignment for Shadow Force International. Then again, he hadn’t planned to be working for Rock Star Security and shoved out the door and into the world of protection services so fast it had made his head spin.

The past couple of days had been a whirlwind. He’d struck out on his own, surviving the first Virginia night in an empty fishing shack with no heat or running water. Reese’s cheeseburger didn’t last long, and while the lake wasn’t frozen over and the owner had left some gear behind, Trace hadn’t been able to catch a damn thing.

The next morning, he’d stumbled through a snowstorm into Murder Creek, found the lone greasy spoon in town and ordered breakfast. The coffee was mud and the eggs were runny. He didn’t care. It was better than prison food any day.

The small 1980s TV in the corner was turned up, a weatherman dressed in a fancy suit waving at various colored blobs on the map and declaring the storm would intensify throughout the day and continue overnight. By the next morning, they were expected to have six feet of snow.

As Trace had finished his toast, a sheriff’s car had driven up. The two men who got out walked like military men, not cops. Before the bell over the door rang, he’d left the waitress a generous tip and disappeared out the back and into the woods.

His mother had always said he was as stubborn as the day was long, but he wasn’t an idiot. While there’d been nothing on the news about his escape from Witcher, he’d known the men in that car were looking for him. A storm was moving in that would lock down the area. He had no vehicle to get out and no supplies to hunker down and ride it out.

He needed help.

Admitting that fact had taken every last ounce of his common sense, but now he was here. Beatrice had cleaned him up, made him shave his beard and cut his hair.

Because of his specialized work for Command & Control, the agency had scrubbed his past years ago. Few pictures existed of him before his time in Iraq with SEAL Team 3, when he’d first grown his hair long and sported a thick beard to blend in with the locals. SEALs often needed out-of-the-Navy-box appearances on their assignments, and that was the picture Ms. Bunkett had spread all over America.

He was a squeaky-clean Boy Scout now, with colored contacts and new clothes—nice threads, not the usual camo gear he was used to. The only thing he hated was the fancy dress shoes.

Petit and Reese had put him through their version of basic protection service training, and Reese’s wife had explained all the ins and outs of his new job.

Beatrice. He was pretty sure that hadn’t been her name when she was in Command & Control, but it didn’t matter. She’d confirmed that she had played a part in getting him out of Witcher and that there were men looking for him. Nothing official on the news yet, the government wanting to keep his “escape” a secret and hoping they could find him and put him back before the public caught wind of the situation.

Petit and Reese hadn’t been happy when Beatrice insisted Trace take this assignment. They’d wanted more time to work on him, and they’d planned to send him out of the country on a Shadow Force assignment. Beatrice had other ideas, and neither man seemed eager to argue with her.

So here he was, playing bodyguard. A test run, Beatrice had called it. He’d kept himself in good shape inside Witcher, had kept his skills sharp. His enhancements from Project 24 had never faded.

Still, with a secret manhunt on for him, he had to stay in the shadows as much as possible. Beatrice had given him a set of rules to follow, briefed him on the client. Single female, twenty-eight, with a potential stalker. He was to keep an eye on her but not be obvious about it.

The stalker is high-profile, Beatrice had said. Has possibly harmed the client’s sister, but there’s no proof and the client can’t make public claims without evidence. We’d like you to investigate, see if you can incapacitate the stalker and discover the sister’s whereabouts.

The woman lived in the penthouse on the top floor. He climbed the last set of stairs and went through the fire door.

It was Beatrice’s fault he was late and she’d supposedly called ahead to let the client know. Still, Trace felt a shot of nervous adrenaline firing below his breastbone as he rang the doorbell. There was a marble-topped table near the elevator with an elaborate floral arrangement. A ficus tree sat in the corner under a skylight, and a large painting of the sun rising over a mountain range hung on the wall left of the door.

Seconds ticked by. He straightened his tie, smoothed the lapels of his suit coat, fiddled with the brim of his baseball hat.

The hat didn’t go with his outfit. He’d picked it up on his way over, feeling too exposed otherwise. Even with his change in appearance, he feared being recognized after Savanna Bunkett had done such a fine job of splashing his face all over the news a year and a half ago.

On the other side of the door, he heard a muffled voice, “Coming!”

A second later, the door swung open. The woman was out of breath, her hair swept up in a high ponytail. She was dressed in workout attire and a fine coating of sweat glistened on her ample cleavage as she wiped her face with a towel. The rhythmic beat of a drum, tambourine, and finger cymbals of Middle Eastern music echoed in the background.

From behind the towel, she said, “You must be…”

And then she moved the towel to her neck and met his gaze.

Oh, shit.

The towel stilled and the woman studied his face. “Coldplay?”

Trace felt frozen in place. In the briefing with Beatrice, she’d referred to the client only as Ms. Jeffries.

Ms. Jeffries, my ass.

His heart stuttered in his chest for a second. Even without makeup and her signature red power suit, she stood out like a diamond among glass. She was striking, her dark hair offsetting her pale skin, all of it softened by a delicate nose and high cheekbones. Workout clothes did nothing to dampen her natural, elegant demeanor.

Before him stood the woman who had ruined his life.

Trace took a step back. Waited…

She didn’t seem to recognize him.

One hand went to her hip. “Are you the strong, silent type or is this one of the rules, that you can’t speak to me? I must have missed that one in the contract.”

Why would she recognize me? She had one grainy photograph of me from six years ago, and I was nothing but a story to her.

Trace forced his mouth to work, struggled to get sound out. He tipped the brim of his hat down a little farther. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Randy didn’t buzz me. How did you get in?”

Randy, the doorman. What a joke.

Trace shifted gears, forcing the anger boiling in his gut aside. As soon as he could get hold of Beatrice, all bets were off. “Security check of the building showed me some weak spots. I got in through a service door entrance on the first floor. I’ll speak to the manager tomorrow about beefing things up.”

She stepped back, using the towel on her arms. Long, slender arms with small wrists and finely-boned hands. “Come in. I’ll grab a shower and then we can talk about…my problem.”

Talk. Right. “I’ll stay out here at the door until you’re ready.”

“Um, okay. Sure.” She gave him another once over. “Have we met? You seem familiar.”

Met? Jesus God. “No, we’ve never met.” Not in person. If we had, I would have wrung your neck.

She gave him a small smile. “Even if we had, we have to pretend otherwise, right? Sorry, this is all new to me.”

He nodded and stepped back, grinding his teeth. She closed the door, leaving him alone in the penthouse hallway.

Counting to a hundred to give her time to get in the shower, he paced to the elevator doors, locked the thing down, then locked the door to the stairwell. He withdrew the cell phone Beatrice had provided and punched in her number.

She picked up on the first ring. “Yes?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sorry?”

He forced himself to lower his voice. “Ms. Jeffries? Her name isn’t Jeffries and you know exactly who she is and what she did to me. If this is some kind of joke, I swear I’ll…I’ll…”

“Yes?”

What would he do? The woman was smarter than smart and she was, well, a pregnant female.

A man, he would beat the shit out of for tricking him like this. But he would never hit a woman. “…I’ll beat up your husband.”

“You can try,” Beatrice said without concern. “What’s the problem?”

Trace nearly crushed the phone. “You know exactly what the problem is. You lied and set me up with the woman who crucified me.”

“I didn’t lie. Her real name is Savanna Jeffries-Bunkett, but she only goes by Savanna Bunkett for her show. Her mother, Doris Jeffries, is from the New Hampshire Jeffries, a Daughter of the Revolution, and a top-notch lawyer. Her father, Shawn Bunkett, is the president of a private Catholic college. Her sister Parker works for National Intelligence as a glorified profiler, you might say. Her job is rather vague and ill-defined. She has a degree in cognitive therapy and a knack for understanding how criminals work, which National Intelligence has found helpful. For reasons I haven’t quite figured out yet, Parker pulls together the president’s daily briefing and presents it to him. I doubt that has anything to do with her brain research, other than to profile a terrorist here and there. A month ago, she went missing. All I can get out of my sources is that she’s on assignment.” Her voice emphasized assignment. “Odds are there was something…personal…going on between her and the president, or he gave her a black op job and she got caught.”

Linc Norman. The president sure liked to spread himself around.

The sound of a fridge door opening came from Beatrice’s end. “Who do you think passed your file—the bogus one—to Savanna?”

Trace took off his hat and scratched his hairline. “The sister?”

“If my guess is accurate, and I am correct ninety-nine percent of the time, Parker received the file outlining your rogue activities from the president.”

A patient silence descended, as if she were waiting for him to connect the dots. A possible scenario spilled out without too much brainpower. “Linc Norman told Parker to make sure Savanna broke the story.”

“Parker is missing. The president is stalking Savanna. It adds up, only we don’t know exactly why. Norman is now keeping tabs on Savanna, no doubt fearing she’ll reveal her suspicions to the world that he’s made Parker disappear. She doesn’t have any facts—yet—and President Norman hopes to keep it that way.”

“What am I supposed to do about it?”

“I don’t suppose you want to tell me why the president had you branded a traitor on national television?”

When he didn’t respond, she went on. “Well, consider this your chance to prove to Savanna that you’re not a traitor and that her intel from President Norman was bogus.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Find her sister. And if the president is the one who threw your ass in prison, who better to have on your side than an investigative reporter with a fan base of six million viewers? She can clear your name, Coldplay. Think about it.”

He was thinking all right. Thinking his former job as a cleaner for the president might put Savanna Jeffries Bunkett in more danger than she was already in.

“She can also help you dig up dirt to blackmail Linc Norman,” Beatrice went on. He heard the clink of silverware against a bowl. “So he stops trying to kill you.”

Trace returned the hat to his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You set me up.”

“I did,” Beatrice admitted freely. “In so doing, I also gave you a way out of the mess you’re in. I don’t care about your past and the things you’ve done, but it would solidify your job with Shadow Force International if you’re not a hunted felon.”

His past was not something to be proud of, Navy SEAL or not. He’d killed for his country, sure, but his job as a cleaner went beyond that. While once he’d believed he was doing the morally right thing, helping the president wipe out threats to America, he was no longer sure there was such a thing as morally right. “Savanna is already suspicious. Even with the change in my appearance, she suspects we’ve met.”

“So come clean. Tell her the truth. She needs you and you need her. Besides, she signed a contract.”

So did I. Every employee of Shadow Force International, whether they worked as bodyguards for Rock Star Security, performed search and rescue missions, or assisted on kidnapping cases, were required to sign one. If he breached his agreement, he was out in the cold again.

Petit planned to put Trace in charge of a team. If things worked out. Even if they didn’t hold him to his contract, bailing on his first assignment would hardly help his cause. He’d never make team leader if they couldn’t depend on him.

Did he even care? He wasn’t a team player anymore. Couldn’t endanger anyone else.

“Follow the procedure I gave you and think about it overnight,” Beatrice said. “If you wish to terminate the assignment in the morning, I’ll find someone else to guard Ms. Bunkett.”

A growl formed in his throat. Beatrice’s logic was so…so…logical. Be the hero again. Keep someone safe. Solve all your problems.

If only it were that easy.

Didn’t matter. He couldn’t complete this assignment without risking his freedom. Morning was nearly twelve hours away. Could he keep Savanna Bunkett from figuring out who he was in the meantime?

The woman was a bloodhound when she picked up the scent of a story. Sure, it had been eighteen months since she’d run his, and she’d had plenty of stories since then, but she wasn’t one to forget a name or a face for long, he bet. “She’ll terminate the assignment before morning.”

“You can’t hide forever,” Beatrice said. “And there’s only so much I can do to keep you off the grid. This is your chance to clear your name. Don’t blow it.”

The line went dead.

Trace braced one hand against the wall and sighed. Twelve hours. He had twelve fucking hours to keep up this charade, and then what? Bail?

He’d never quit a job in his life—except the last order from the president—and he wasn’t about to do so now. If Savanna figured out who he was and called the police, he’d have to, but until then, he’d lay low and plan for the worst case scenario.

clear your name.

Pocketing the phone, he shook the ridiculous idea from his brain and walked back down the hall to wait.

He’d follow procedure like Beatrice had instructed him to when she gave him the assignment. Scan Savanna’s apartment for bugs, make sure her windows and doors were all secure. Check her personal security system. Then he’d stand guard for the night.

By morning—if he made it that long—he’d have a plan of escape.

Or one that would take down the president of the United States.

 

 

 

About the Author  Misty Evans Photo

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their books – and their dreams of being published – to life.

The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award, CAPA nominations, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and the ACRA Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2011.

Her Witches Anonymous series was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. The Super Agent Series, Witches Anonymous Series, and the Kali Sweet Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists. Her culinary romantic mystery, THE SECRET INGREDIENT, and the first book in her Deadly series, DEADLY PURSUIT, are both USA TODAY bestsellers.

Misty likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies.

 

Connect with Misty: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Newsletter / Pinterest

 

* * *

 

Giveaway Information

 

Tour-wide giveaway includes a $50.00 Amazon Gift Card and a Rock Star Bracelet

Rafflecopter Link:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/1c9cd1c928/?

 

 

Blog Tour Stops

 

Follow the rest of the blog tour to read what others have to say about the book!

 

January 25, 2016

 

Adria’s Romance Reviews

Reading in Pajamas

CK Crouch

Long and Short Reviews

Read Your Writes Book Reviews

 

January 26, 2016

 

Happiness Is A Book

The Book Nympho

Amy Manemann

 

January 27, 2016

 

Reading On The Rocks

Becky On Books

Cricket’s Chirps

Harlequin Junkie

 

January 28, 2016

 

Peaces of Me

Lush Book Reviews

So Many Reads

 

January 29, 2016

 

Brooke Blogs

Harlie’s Books

Booktalk with Eileen

Shelley’s Book Case

 

January 30, 2016

 

Nicole’s Book Musings

Em & M Books

Renee Entress

Love Affair with an E-Reader

Nerdy, Dirty & Flirty

Romancing The Book

Just The Write Stuff

 

Exposing Justice by Misty Evans and Adrienne Giordano

Exposing Justice

As a Public Information officer for the US Supreme Court, Hope Denby knows how to spin a story. A journalist at heart, she loves being in the middle of a juicy scoop and has her sights set on future Press Secretary for the White House. When the Supreme Court Chief Justice is accidentally killed in a road rage accident, and a high-profile conspiracy blogger claims it was premeditated murder, Hope has to shut down the paranoid blogger—which she has more in common with the secretive, hard-hitting investigator then she’d like to admit.

 As a former ATF agent who blew the whistle on his superiors, Brice Brennan is no stranger to government cover-ups and scandals. An anonymous tip on the Chief Justice’s death sends him searching for answers. What he finds is a sexy, young idealist about to blow his private, behind-the-scenes world to pieces.

 Brice and Hope couldn’t be more opposite, but exposing justice makes them partners. As their investigation takes them into the dark underbelly of Washington politics and murder-for-hire. But when the killer makes an attempt on Hope’s life, will Brice be able to keep her safe? Or will blowing the whistle on corruption and greed mean losing the one person he’s allowed himself to love?

 

I loved the contrast between Hope and Brice. Hope is serious about her job but also fun and can let loose, Brice is uptight and not so much, is paranoid and rightly so. Hope was a firecracker in this book. She was fearless and lured Brice out of his stick in the mud ways. She was the first to make a move on him, much to his surprise. The turnaround in the characters was a first for this series, the woman was the one who did the pursuing and she was the one to take things on the case further and consequences be damned at times.

Like I said this book was different than the previous two books and it was refreshing for Hope to take the reigns in hand and lead the way for a while. The dynamic worked well and it was Brice who took things slow and careful. Trust issues made him like that and it was interesting to see him break down the walls to let someone in. Hope and Brice made a great investigative team and while she blew his world to pieces she gave him the strength to move past trust issues and to move on.

I must say that I was surprised by this book, the change in character dynamics, the story taking more or a journalistic feel than the previous books and that I had loved Brice in the last book and was glad to see his character get a story of his own.

What I also love about this series is the seamless writing styles of Misty and Adrienne. I have read quite a few books that they have written together and have a hard time telling who wrote which part. In other collaborations of two writers you can pick up the different writing styles chapter by chapter but not with Misty and Adrienne. I am a big fan of these writers and haven’t been disappointed yet. If you love a good conspiracy/undercover journalism/romance book, pick this one up, you won’t be disappointed!

This is book three in the Justice Team book and can be read as a stand alone but it would be better if read as part of the series as to get a feel for the background of the other characters.

ARC provided by authors in exchange for a fair and honest review

5/5 stars

Crash

 

Don’t forget to enter the raffle for a $25.00 e-gift card, found below the authors bio’s. Also check out the other blogs invloved in the tour, also found below.

 

Buy: Amazon

Buy: B&N

Buy: Amazon UK

 

About the Authors

Misty Evans:Misty Evans Photo

 

USA Today bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their books – and their dreams of being published – to life.

The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award, CAPA nominations, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and the ACRA Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2011.

Her Witches Anonymous series was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. The Super Agent Series, Witches Anonymous Series, and the Kali Sweet Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists. Her culinary romantic mystery, THE SECRET INGREDIENT, and the first book in her Deadly series, DEADLY PURSUIT, are both USA TODAY bestsellers.

Misty likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies.

Connect with Misty: Website / Newsletter / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Pinterest

Giordano Author Photo

 Adrienne Giordano:

 USA Today bestselling author Adrienne Giordano writes romantic suspense and mystery.  She is a Jersey girl at heart, but now lives in the Midwest with her workaholic husband, sports obsessed son and Buddy the Wheaten Terrorist (Terrier). She is a co-founder of Romance University blog and Lady Jane’s Salon-Naperville, a reading series dedicated to romantic fiction.

Connect with Adrienne: Website / Newsletter / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Street Team

 

 

Giveaway Details

There is a tour-wide giveaway of a $25.00 eGift Card to an online book retailer of winner’s choice and three audiobooks (codes) of Cheating Justice!

 

 

Rafflecopter Link:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/1c9cd1c922/

Exposing Justice Excerpt 1 – Hope’s POV

“Denby! Get in here!”

Ooh! Hope Denby shot up, sending her rickety government-issued chair sailing against the back of her cubicle. She peeped over the wall in front of her at her cubemate, Rob. “Ohmygod, she’s insane today.”

Rob didn’t bother looking up from whatever he was reading on his computer. “Seriously fucking deranged. You’d better get in there.”

Because experience dictated she had thirty-point-two seconds to appear in front of her boss or she’d be bellowed at once again.

“Coming!”

Hope scooped up her legal pad and a pen and hustled to the boss’s office just twenty-five feet away. Working at the Public Information Office of the U.S. Supreme Court meant each day brought something new. It could be working with reporters wanting to cover a case, preparing transcripts, or press releases, all of it fascinating and tedious and ripe with possibilities.

Today was no different. Eight hours earlier, the Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court had been accidently gunned down on the Gaynor Bridge while trying to resolve a road rage dispute.

And now, it was all over the news and her boss, Amy Ripling, the Public Information Officer, had been in full-blown crisis mode all day.

“Denby!” Amy screamed again.

Hope kicked off her sky-high heels, left them sitting in the corridor—no time to stop—and picked up her pace. She swung around the doorway, grabbing the frame to slow her down. “I’m here. Sorry.”

Amy sat at her desk, random files and papers and notes strewn across the top. Two ringing cell phones sat on top of the mess joined by the incessant beeping of the desk phone. Amy picked up the handset, tapped the hold button and handed Hope a note. “Call this guy. He’s bugging the shit out of me and I’m trying to deal with the networks.”

She glanced down at the name. The First Amendment Patriot. Interesting. But, woohoo! Finally, her boss ponied up an assignment on a major case, albeit a tragic one. “Yes, ma’am. Who is he?”

“He’s a blogger.”

A blogger.

The Journalism major in her wailed.

“Damned, bloggers. I am on it, Amy.”

“I knew you’d love it. You’re an animal, Denby.”

“Thank you. I think.”

Amy waved it away. “Yada, yada. He wants a statement, but be careful. He’s one of the those conspiracy theory nutcases. Tell him something that won’t hurt us. Until we have more on what happened on that bridge, we’re going with what we know.”

“Sure. But—”

Amy glanced at the still beeping phone, beep-beep-beep, then came back to Hope, her taut skin barely restraining her impatience. “What, Denby? What?”

Ignoring Amy’s tone, she stood a little straighter. “Yes, ma’am. What is it exactly that we know?”

All day long, Hope, like everyone else in the office, had been monitoring the news channels to see who was saying what. For their part, the Public Information Office had released very few details. Mainly because they’d been given very few details.

The police and the FBI were handling the press on this nightmare.

“What we know,” Amy said, “is that the Chief Justice and his security detail, consisting of one Supreme Court police officer, were en route to work today and got stuck in a traffic jam on the bridge. The FBI is looking into that. Apparently, there’s some confusion as to why that lane was closed. They’re talking to DDOT. Anyway, two cars ahead of the Chief Justice some whacko jumped out of a cab and started arguing with the driver of the car next to them. The argument became heated and the judge’s officer got out to diffuse the situation. Justice Turner—God rest his soul—defied his security officer’s order to stay in the car and got out to see if he could help. While the officer tried to convince the judge to get his ass back in the car, the guy who jumped out of the cab fired a gun; the shot missed and accidentally hit the judge. The shooter ran. That’s what we know. But you’re not telling our blogger friend that. For him, you’re keeping it simple. Road rage, two men arguing, gunshot. D.C. Metro and the SC police are handling it from here.”

“Got it. No problem.”

“Good. I’m heading into a meeting with the Justices. I’m guessing it’ll be a while. Make sure everyone knows they should only disturb me if the building is on fire. Or someone else is dead.”

Ew. “I’ll handle it.”

She spun toward the door.

“Denby?”

“Yes?”

“Where the hell are your shoes?”

Exposing Justice Excerpt 2 – Brice’s POV

Brice Brennan sat alone at his computer watching a blinking cursor. He needed a story. A kick-ass story that no one else had.

And time was running out.

It was only three o’clock in the afternoon, yet he sat in the dark, courtesy of his blackout curtains. Today’s blog had to be up by nine. Fifty-five thousand and sixty-three fans, and six new advertisers, were waiting for it. After he’d exposed the United States’ deputy attorney general and the ATF’s collaboration on a gunwalking scandal recently, his readership had exploded.

His readers wanted scandal. Real journalism, not sugarcoated updates running ad nauseam or ratings-whoring gossip passed off as investigative reporting.

Tick-tock.

Brice tapped his thumb against his desktop. Three big news stories had flooded the blogosphere today. Each held potential for him, but none yet had generated any calls from his covert, and oftentimes dissident, sources.

Knowledge was power. Once he hit on a story, he became engrossed in it. He wouldn’t let it go until he exposed the truth.

As if summoned by his sheer desperation, his phone rang—the private tip line running through his computer. Brice’s pulse jumped. This could be it. The tip he was waiting for.

“‘The duty of a true patriot is to protect his country from its government.’ This is Hawkeye. Go.”

The Thomas Paine quote was his motto and what he founded the blog on. He recorded all his tip calls through the computer, which meant all of them ran through the speakers since he never used headphones. When you were always alone, what did you need headphones for?

“Hawkeye, this is Lodestone.”

Lodestone was a government employee who seemed to enjoy being Brice’s informant. He’d never said as much, but Brice knew the type. Knew the man had connections Brice could only dream of, and best of all, Lodestone never asked for money. “Go ahead, Lodestone. I’m listening.”

“I have information about the death of Chief Justice Raymond Turner this morning.”

A spurt of adrenaline shot through Brice’s limbs. “The road rage accident?”

“It’s no coincidence that he got held up on that bridge.” A pause—Lodestone deciding how much he could share? “A sensitive case was on the docket for Turner to decide whether the Supreme Court would hear it or not. Look into it. You never know what you might find.”

The line went dead.

Brice disconnected and stared blankly at the screen. If Turner’s death wasn’t an accident…

The screensaver had appeared on his computer. The Patriot Blog’s logo of an eagle. He tapped a key to wake the computer up, ready to start digging, when three loud knocks on his door interrupted him.

The first three were followed by a single knock.

Brice hung his head.

The coded knocks meant only one thing.

The Justice Team had arrived.

Maybe if he didn’t respond, they’d go away.

“Open up, Brennan,” Justice “Grey” Greystone called from the other side.

Brice swore under his breath. If he played possum, pretended he wasn’t even there, Grey would…

“Or I’ll have Mitch pick the locks. Either way, we’re coming in.”

How long was this going to go on?

Jumping up from his office chair, he hustled to the door, unlocked the three deadbolts and doorknob, and cracked the door open two inches.

“I’m not interested, Grey,” he told the leader of the Justice Team standing on his front porch looking like the Federal agent he used to be. Dark clothes, fake smile. Batman in his Bruce Wayne persona. “We’ve already had this discussion. Six times by my count.”

The weak smile on Grey’s lips struggled to stay in place. The man never smiled unless his fiancé was in spitting distance. He was trying to appear friendly and inviting. Mostly, he looked constipated.

“There are perks.” Grey glanced at Mitch, aka, Robin, and nodded.

When all else fails, go to your wingman.

“Like what?” Brice asked, chewing on the side of his thumbnail. “Being shot at? Having to send your girlfriend undercover as a stripper? Oh, yeah, that sounds better than medical insurance and vacation days.” He switched his gaze to Robin. “Oh, and how about being framed for your best friend’s murder? It’s hard to top that as a perk.”

Grey’s hard eyes turned to pure steel. Although the Justice Team’s past operations had all ended successfully, each one had put the members in extreme situations where things could have gone south in a hurry. Brice had been in on one of them in New Mexico with Mitch and his girlfriend, Caroline. Brice was lucky he was still breathing. They were all lucky they weren’t in jail.

Mitch grinned and shoved his way inside. His coat was unzipped and it fell open to reveal a T-shirt that read, I put the Hot in psychotic. He took up residence in Brice’s leather recliner with a big plop and Grey followed. “Jesus it’s dark in here. Are you a vampire or something, Brice?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “As far as perks, you get to look at my handsome face every day, Brice buddy. Best. Perk. Ever.”

Psychotic did not begin to describe Mitch Monroe. Brice left the door ajar and went back to his chair. He didn’t like people in his space. Especially not Batman and Robin.“I’m sure Caroline enjoys that, but it takes more than a pretty face to make me want to give up my blog.”

“You don’t have to give up your blog, right, Grey?” Mitch nodded without waiting for his boss to agree. “Investigating conspiracies is exactly what we want you to continue doing.”

Cyber resistance against government corruption wasn’t just a theory for Brice. The First Amendment Patriot blog was his life. While he valued his privacy and didn’t like to call attention to himself, he had a strong internal sense of right and wrong and had no trouble blowing the whistle on corrupt politicians and government agencies. Others appreciated what he did. Donations to the blog paid his bills and he cared little about material wealth or possessions. As long as he kept his lifestyle lean, he’d be fine.

Tick-tock.

Grey didn’t look all that happy about Brice keeping his blog “We have nine open cases right now that involve crooked politicians, lobbyists, and potential cover-ups. Your skills and contacts would help tremendously.”

Brice’s ego did indeed like it, too. He was damn good at running his blog, and he’d once enjoyed being part of a taskforce. Lived for his job as an undercover ATF agent. The commendations in his folder had proven his worth, and the team of men he’d worked with had always had his back. Failure had never entered his mind.

Until his boss—his former partner—and the ATF sent him down in flames. The men he’d been closer to than his three brothers turned on each other.

Those days were over. Lesson learned. Never trust anyone.

Facts were more trustworthy than people. Detachment and autonomy were important to doing a good job.Exposing government coverups and bringing dirty cops, politicians, and even heads of the most powerful agencies in the world to heel from the safety of his computer was what he excelled at now.

“I’m no longer a team player.” Truer words had never been spoken. Swinging his chair around to emphasize his point, he turned his back on the two men he had let into his personal circle and now regretted. The safety of his computer beckoned. “I just got a lead on a breaking story, and I’m not coming to work for the Justice Team. Show yourselves out, ladies.”

Behind him, the leather chair squeaked as Mitch stood. An uncomfortable silence followed, complete with strained murmuring—Batman and Robin trying to figure out their next move.

Let ’em talk.

“What story?” Grey asked.

“Chief Justice Turner. The road rage accident that killed him may not have been an accident at all.”

“Murder?” Mitch slapped him on the back. “Make you a deal, Brice, ol’ buddy. You join the Justice Team, and I’ll help you investigate your lead on Turner.”

He was grinning like his offer was an obvious slam-dunk. Brice stood, grabbed Mitch’s arm and hustled him to the door. “I don’t need your help, Mitch, ol’ buddy, and I can investigate Turner’s death on my own.”

Mostly true. If there was anything worth investigating.

Grey stood at the computer, looking at the screen, one hand cupping his chin. “What makes you think Turner’s death was murder?”

“I got a tip from a very reliable source.” Brice didn’t need to prove anything to these men, and yet, the investigator in him liked the credibility. “Claims Turner had a sensitive case on his docket that he was deciding on whether the court would hear it or not. Maybe nothing, but he told me to look into it.”

“Sounds far-fetched to me. The Chief Justice probably had a long list of possible cases for the Court to hear.”

Mitch jerked his arm out of Brice’s hand. “Yeah, and every one of the plaintiffs believes their case is sensitive. It’s going to take a lot of work to dig into each and every one of them.”

A smile—the genuine thing—crept over Grey’s face. “How about I make you a deal, Brice? We help you get Turner’s list and do the digging. Save you a lot of time. If, of course, you help us out with a few of our cases.”

He itched to jump on this right away, but he didn’t need help. What he needed was for these two to leave him alone. “I’ll think about it and let you know my decision in the morning.”

Grey seemed unfazed by his delay. “Fair enough.”

After Batman and Robin left, Brice dropped back into this chair. A few clicks of his keyboard and he had the phone number for the Public Information Office of the Supreme Court.

He’d do his own investigation, like always. If that lead nowhere, he’d consider Grey’s deal.

As the phone rang on the other end, he smiled to himself. Nothing like a good conspiracy to get the adrenaline flowing.

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Deadly Intent by Misty Evans

Deadly Intent

Book Summary:

She’ll do anything to find her sister…

Deep undercover with a Tijuana drug cartel, FBI agent Sophia Diaz is two days away from making the biggest bust of her career…and tracking down her sister who went missing ten years ago. But when a rival cartel puts out a hit on her, there’s only one man who can keep her alive.

He’ll do anything to keep her safe…

Immigration enforcement officer, Nelson Cruz, has his hands full with his own operation while undercover as a member of the Savages motorcycle gang. When orders come down that he has to protect the sexy, but oh-so-aloof, Agent Diaz without breaking his cover, Nelson must put his skills to the ultimate test. Especially since a previous relationship with Sophie compromised his career and wreaked havoc on his heart.

South of the border is no place to die…

Nelson’s never gotten over the time he spent in Sophie’s bed or the fact she double-crossed him on their last mission together. He can’t trust her…and she doesn’t trust anybody. As the two fight their red-hot, south of the border attraction, Nelson discovers a secret that could destroy Sophie’s world forever. Once again, he’s forced to put his job—and his life—on the line for her. Can he keep her alive and out of prison? Or will their careers, as well as their hearts, go up in the flames of desire?

 

Sophia Diaz is deep undercover in Mexico in a drug cartel’s home as a bookkeeper. She is an agent that has gone rogue and does things on her own. Her boss wants her back in the states pronto, there has been a threat against her life. Her assignment isn’t over and she wants to stay to not only break the cartel but also to get clues to her missing sister. Nelson Cruz is assigned to bring Sophia in. They shared a steamy hot night together a few years ago that neither can forget. As he struggles to rein her in things start to turn sour and he may just have to force her to leave before her job is done and she gets herself killed.

Sophia is strong willed and determined to not only finish her assignment but to find her missing sister and heal what’s left of her family. Nelson has to fight her ever step of the way to not only keep her safe but to not blow their covers before the job is done. I love these characters! Both are strong and try to not give into the raw chemistry that draws them together but fail miserably and it gets even hotter!

There are so many twists and turns in this story, you think you have it figured out and then, bam, you’re wrong. Plot and sub-plots galore that keep you up and reading when you should be sleeping!  Misty writes some amazing stories that are not only hot and steamy but detailed and fast paced action thrillers. Each book in this series gets better and better! If you have a thing against snakes, be warned, there are quite a few snakes in this book and our heroes have to deal with them.

I always look forward to a new book by Misty and I am never disappointed in the writing and the story that is told, she is one of my favorite writers and I can’t get enough of her action/romance books. If you love plenty of action and romance then this book, and the rest of the series are ones you should be trying!

While this is book four in the Southern California Violent Task Force it can be read as a stand alone book

ARC received in exchange for a fair and honest review.

5/5 stars

Crash

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About the AuthorMisty Evans Photo

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their books – and their dreams of being published – to life.

The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award, CAPA nominations, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and the ACRA Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2011.

Her Witches Anonymous series was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. The Super Agent Series, Witches Anonymous Series, and the Kali Sweet Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists. Her culinary romantic mystery, THE SECRET INGREDIENT, and the first book in her Deadly series, DEADLY PURSUIT, are both USA TODAY bestsellers.

Misty likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies.

Connect with Misty: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Newsletter / Pinterest

 

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Deadly Intent Excerpt

Nelson Cruz thought he might throw up.

His left temple beat a violent staccato timed to AC/DC’s Hells Bells. His eyelids scratched like sandpaper against his corneas. The left eye was swollen shut; the right didn’t seem to want to obey on principal.

Swallowing past the dryness in his throat, he drew a deep breath and focused on the last thing he could remember. A humid, dark building. Body odor, cigarettes, the hiss of…

Snakes?

Someone had grabbed him. Threats had been yelled in his face. A fist had connected with his eye, another with his gut.

Interrupting the replay in his head, a floral scent brought him back to the here and now, teasing his nose and reminding him of something—someone—completely different. It smelled like…

Sophie.

Dreaming. He had to be dreaming.

Playing possum, he held still and finished his inventory. His aching head rested on something soft. Pillow. He was flat on his back, limbs splayed, his battered body cushioned. Bed.

The floral scent grew stronger. A low, seductive voice said, “You looked better last year in San Diego, niño. You really should have stayed there.”

That voice. Smooth. Almost a purr.

Sophie.

His body responded like it always did at the thought of her—his cock grew hard at the thought of her luscious curves in spite of the fact that he’d just had the shit beat out of him. Memories of warm nights, too much tequila, and an ocean of stars assaulted his brain.

Commanding his good eye to open, he realized it didn’t matter. Something covered his eyes. He brought a hand to his face.

Or tried to anyway. Both hands were held hostage, his wrists tied.

Metal rattled as he jerked at the restraints. Not tied. Handcuffed.

To the bed.

Correction: He was handcuffed to FBI Agent Sophia Diaz’s bed.

Ah, shit. “Uncuff me, Soph.”

His voice was rough. Too rough. Too many late nights drinking and smoking with the Savages Motorcycle Gang. This undercover assignment was going to kill him.

If Sophie didn’t first.

The mattress dipped from her weight as she joined him on the bed. Warm fingers played over his naked bicep. “Why are you here?”

To protect your ass and bring you home.

Better to keep that a secret. At least the part about the FBI believing she was a rogue agent. Diaz had a chip on her shoulder bigger than his dick. “Uncuff me and I’ll tell you.”

Her fingernail dug into his muscle. Just enough to remind him she was in charge. “Tell me first, then I might turn you loose. Or I might shoot you.”

Nothing with Sophie was ever easy. “You know what happened the last time you handcuffed me to your bed.”

“Yes, you had the night of your life.”

True. It had actually been two nights, but it could have been a thousand and it wouldn’t have been enough. “You enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“And then you left me.”

After he’d found out the truth. After she’d thrown her handcuffs at his head and given a nice scar. “If you’d told me who you were up front, things might have turned out differently.”

“I was undercover.”

“As was I.”

She lifted the corner of the blindfold covering his right eye. Her long, dark hair, beautiful skin, and big hazel-green eyes swam into focus. “Why are you in Tijuana?”

Work was as good of an excuse as ever. Except that if he mentioned his original assignment—Chica Bonita—she’d probably shoot him in the balls for good measure and then throw him out.

Good thing he was a skilled liar. “Just joined the Savages. I’m patrolling the border for Morales.”

“You’re lying.” The blindfold slipped off his head. She sat back on her heels. “Rodrigo’s men are the ones who did this to you.”

Either his vision was screwed or the blow to his eye had messed with his head. Through the haze, it looked like Sophie was wearing nothing but her bra, some lacy black underpants, and a garter. Her breasts were pushed up and out, creating cleavage that made Nelson’s dry mouth water.

Apparently, she didn’t appreciate his ogling, even if it was only with one eye. She smacked him on the cheek. “Focus!”

Hard to do when she was mostly naked on the bed beside him. “God’s truth, Soph. I’m undercover to investigate the gang and some of their dealings along the border. Not all of Morales’s men, and certainly not Rodrigo, know me yet. Especially his personal security team. Who suck, by the way. I’m surprised he’s not dead already.”

“Why were you were sneaking around the grounds of the compound?”

“Can you please uncuff me so we can talk like rational human beings?”

“The only reason you’re alive at this moment is because I intervened and stopped Chavez and his goons from killing you. Rodrigo Morales happens to like me and Chavez knows it. It took some begging on my part, and a threat or two, but I got him to bring you here and let me handle you.”

“Chavez?”

“Rodrigo’s head of security. The guy who gave you the black eye?”

“Ah. Well, he needs a lesson in protecting an asset.”

“Look, I’m valuable to the Morales cartel, but I still had to lie and say you were…my lover.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “It was the only way to explain how I knew you.”

“Lover, huh?” He grinned. “I’m happy to play my part.”

Leaning forward, she put her luscious cleavage on full display in front of his face as she stroked his jawline with a finger. He could see the sexy little gap between her front two teeth. “You owe me your life, Nels.”

Her full lips were covered in glossy, red lipstick. Her eyes danced with mischief.

Being a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent with the Southern California Violent Crimes Taskforce had prepared him for many things in his undercover roles with gangs, drug cartels, and human traffickers. Physical violence, torture, possible death. Never had it prepared him for the force of nature contained in the five-foot-five, irresistible package known as Sophia Diaz.

Tied to her bed once more, it was fifty shades of Sophia all over again. Her beauty stunned him into silence. His cock was so tight against his zipper, it hurt.

She took his silence as stubbornness rather than speechlessness, and since she knew a thing or two about breaking his will, she straddled him.

Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. She was wearing spiky red heels.

Her curvaceous bottom nestled down on his hard cock and he moaned before he could stop himself. She planted her hands on his chest and arched her back, a blatant reminder of how she’d rode him the last time they’d spent time in bed together. “You’re wasting time, niño. Tell me the truth or…”

She ground herself into him slowly and deliberately, licking her lips and smiling down on him.

Torture. Brutal, beautiful torture like he hadn’t had since the last time they were in this exact position.

She was undercover, working on bringing down Rodrigo Morales. He was undercover, working a different angle, but on the same man and his cartel. They should be able to work together.

Regardless of the past lies and indiscretions.

In fact, working together would be better for both of them.

Except Special Agent Diaz wasn’t a team player. Never had been. She was the most fiercely independent agent in the FBI. She worked alone and always got her man—the only reason the Feds allowed her to be so independent. Their concern that she’d been under too long on this mission and may have gone rogue was ridiculous. Sophie was Bureau to her lovely bones. Her track record was spotless.

With one exception.

Chica Bonita.

He couldn’t tell her he was investigating the possible resurgence of the human trafficking operation that had been the only failure of her career.

So he told her the only thing he could. “Guido Ruiz.”

The sex goddess morphed back into FBI agent. She stopped undulating on top of him and gave him a hard stare. “What about him?”

Nelson took one last look at all the beautiful cleavage and sighed. “He put out a hit on you at 0800 hours yesterday.”

“What? Where did you hear this?”

“He hired me to do it.”

That gave her pause. “You?

“He doesn’t know I’m with the Savages and my backstop identity says I’ve done murder-for-hire quite successfully. At the bar the other night, Guido offered me a hundred-thousand to kill you—one of the reasons the FBI and the SCVC Taskforce want me to bring you home.”

She looked at him wide-eyed for a second and then threw back her head and laughed. Low and husky, the sound sent ripples down his spine, not to mention what it did to his already straining lower parts.

Patting his chest, she gave another chuckle. “I’m not going anywhere with you, ICE boy. Feel free to run back to San Diego and tell the FBI, and your boss at the taskforce, to stay out of my operation. I’m not scared of Guido and I’m too close to bringing down Morales to blow this over an idle threat by a spoiled brat posing as a rival cartel leader.”

Guido was no spoiled brat. He was a six-foot-three monster with a shaved head and teardrop tattoos. Six of ʼem. He’d once worked for Rodrigo’s father and decided to take over. A bloody battle ensued, but Ciro Morales had deep pockets and loyal employees. He won the skirmish and Guido went underground.

For a while, anyway.

Now, with Ciro dead, the monster was back and he was coming after Ciro’s son. Killing off Rodrigo Morales was tough, even if his security detail wasn’t the brightest, and Guido liked to make his prey suffer first. Everyone knew Rodrigo had a thing for his accountant. Guido planned to kill her off first.

“It’s not an idle threat, Soph.” Nelson understood Sophie’s bravado. As an undercover agent, her life was always in danger, like his. Miss 99% Ball Buster wasn’t about to let a criminal of any type ruin her chance at a successful bust, regardless of the fact that Guido had once been the Morales cartel’s right-hand man and was the only serious menace to Rodrigo at this point. But that didn’t matter. The higher-ups wanted her butt back in the U.S. “Your life is in imminent danger. It’s time to pack it in.”

“I can’t leave. I won’t leave. Not yet.” She studied him, her eyes softening as she leaned forward, putting her face in front of his. “But maybe you can stay if you play along and pretend to be my lover and bodyguard.”

Once more through the fog in his brain due to her nearness, Nelson reminded himself that Sophie never worked with a partner. Which was why he’d ended up holding shit instead of evidence the last round he’d gone with her.

Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice… “What do I get out of it?”

Sophie grinned and produced a key from between her breasts. “For starters, I’ll release you.”

That was easy.

Too easy.

Something was wrong here but he couldn’t snap the pieces together when she was shoving her chest into his and her big smile encouraged him to forget his misgivings and consider her offer.

Freedom and Sophie in one package. What could he say?

“You have a deal, Agent Diaz.”

 

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Friday, July 17, 2015

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