Excerpt from MOTHER MAY I by Harry Hunsicker:
THE PRESENT DAY
At the company where I worked, they called me “Mad Meg” behind my back.
It was hard to say how much of that nickname came from my temperament and how much was because I had very few limits—in what I could do, given my abilities, and more importantly, what I would do.
I’m what’s known as an operator. Think of me as a soldier or a spy for hire. I’ve been well trained for both, courtesy of the US taxpayer. Uncle Sam was also the source of most of my assignments—situations that required plausible deniability or the smaller footprint of a civilian outfit. Occasionally, Hobs originated in the private sector, though sometimes the line between government and industry was hard to see.
On this particular day, Mad Meg was in trouble. Again.
I sat alone at a long table in a windowless conference room, staring at the wood-paneled walls, gray carpet, and cheap furniture.
I used the time to mentally prepare for the debrief.
An op had gone sideways, and I’d shot someone I definitely shouldn’t have. In my defense, the guy didn’t look like a tech entrepreneur worth $120 billion. Fortunately, it was barely a flesh wound.
That’s the trouble with honey traps. You never know what you’re going to catch.
The voice in my head spoke for the first time that day: You really screwed this one up, didn’t you, Meg?
The voice belonged to my daughter, Ivy, which was weird since she sounded like an adult, at least my age, maybe older, and the last time I’d heard her speak, she’d been a toddler. Also, Ivy had also been a sweet child. The version that lived in my head was anything but.
Her voice appeared at random times, usually during stressful situations but also when things were relatively calm. I knew the voice wasn’t real but sometimes I imagined it was—my child reaching out to me, trying to establish some sort of relationship, one that as the years went by was as dysfunctional as mine had been with my own mother.
I pushed away the thoughts of my mother and my daughter. The debrief was scheduled to start momentarily. I knew what to expect. Lots of yelling followed by threats of a suspension. Veiled references to losing my annual bonus.
At the end of the meeting, a suggestion would be made that we could avoid all this unpleasantness if I would just follow the operational orders.
You know, play by the rules.
I would agree, but everyone would know I was lying. No one would mention the unspoken part. I had an annual bonus to lose because I didn’t play by the rules. I succeeded where others failed because I was willing to cross certain lines. Hell, all the lines.
The door to the conference room opened, and Tyrone, one of my supervisors, walked in.
I heaved a sigh of relief, glad it was him.
He understood a little of what it was like for me every single minute of every single day. He’d lost his only son to a drunk driver five years ago, his wife soon after to divorce.
Tyrone dropped a file on the table and plopped down in the chair across from me.
“I didn’t think we’d be back here so soon,” he said.
“It must be fate.” I shrugged. “We’re meant to be together.”
“Do you think this is funny?” Tyrone asked.
He was in his early forties, at least ten years older than me, with cinnamon-colored skin and dark eyes flecked with gold. One eyebrow always seemed to be raised slightly, giving him the air of a bemused professor.
Tyrone had been a Green Beret before retiring and taking this job, running herd over a bunch of ex-Special Forces soldiers and retired CIA paramilitary officers.
“I was talking about the Christmas party last year,” I said. “Surely you haven’t forgotten.”
He looked embarrassed. We’d hooked up after too many eggnogs. Lonely, damaged people, being a little less lonely together. The damage would never go away, however, at least for me.
“That was a onetime thing,” he said.
“If you hadn’t had that last eggnog, we probably could have made it a two-time thing.”
Tyrone pursed his lips. “You always have to push it,” he said. “Fan the flames. Burn the place down.”
“That’s why the company keeps me on.” I smiled. “They need someone willing to light the fire.”
“You know what I mean,” he said. “You go too far.”
Anger, my constant companion, rippled to the surface.
“That guy, the tech nerd, he took a shot at me.” I leaned forward. “And the girl he was with was fifteen.”
“His company is a major vendor at the Pentagon. If he wants to shoot at you, he can. We’re facing significant blowback because of what you did.”
“You know why there should be blowback?” I said through clenched teeth. “We baited our trap with an underage girl.”
Tyrone opened the file. He refused to meet my gaze.
“Oh, crap,” I said, suddenly understanding. “We were running the op with someone else, weren’t we? The Is—”
He held up a hand. “Don’t say anything else. This room isn’t secure.”
“What happened to the girl?”
“How the hell would I know?” he asked. “Let’s get back to the matter at hand. Stop shooting people you aren’t supposed to. How hard is that?”
From MOTHER MAY I by Harry Hunsicker. Copyright © 2026 by the author, and reprinted with permission.
She lost everything. Except the will to fight.
When former CIA operative Meg Dalton learns a shocking clue suggests her long‑missing daughter might still be alive, she’s forced into a desperate, high‑stakes search for the truth. Fifteen years after little Ivy vanished without a trace at a Texas fair, Meg has built a career as a covert “operator” — a soldier‑for‑hire who takes on dangerous black ops missions for the government.
But during a botched assignment in Los Angeles, Meg encounters a woman wearing her daughter’s distinctive butterfly necklace, and everything she believes unravels. As Meg defies her handlers and goes rogue to chase the lead, she’s thrust into a deadly conspiracy linking global espionage, human trafficking, and her own past sins.
Hunted by both her employers and foreign agents, Meg must decide how far she’s willing to go— and what lines she’ ll cross— to uncover the truth and reclaim her child.
Mother May I is a gripping, emotionally charged thriller about loss, obsession, and the unbreakable bond between a mother and her daughter.
Thriller Crime [ Oceanview Publishing, On Sale: October 13, 2026, Paperback / e-Book, ISBN: 9781608096626 / ]
Harry Hunsicker is the bestselling author of ten crime thrillers and numerous short stories. His novels include The Life and Death of Rose Doucette, which was shortlisted for the 2025 Thriller Awards, and Still River, a finalist for the Shamus Awards. In addition to novels and short stories, Hunsicker wrote a recently produced short film that earned numerous accolades, including the award for Best Screenplay at the Twin Falls Film Festival.
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