
Fresh Fiction Readers favorite Summer read!
A-Tac is an elite CIA unit masquerading as faculty at an Ivy
League college.
Brilliant, badass, and seemingly bulletproof, the members of
A-Tac are assigned to the riskiest missions and the most
elusive targets. When the CIA learns that Madeline Reynard,
the mistress of international crime-lord Miguel RamΓ³n, can
provide the location of a newly developed bio-chemical
weapon, they contact A-Tac. And A-Tac survivalist Drake
Flynn is given the responsibility of extracting Madeline
from RamΓ³n's compound, finding the weapon, and transporting
them both to a secure location.
A woman with nothing to lose, Madeline is willing to risk
everything to escape her life with RamΓ³n - even a dangerous
trek through the jungle with a man who makes no secret of
his disdain. Madeline had an impoverished and dangerous
childhood, and she makes no apologies for the life she's
led, but despite mutual animosity, she cannot deny her
attraction to Drake.
As Drake and Madeline battle their personal demons, the team
races against the clock to locate the hidden weapon. But
RamΓ³n and his men are never far behind. And when the couple
are separated from the others, what began as a simple
extraction becomes a battle for their very survival, with
the two of them forced to rely on each other - or die.
Excerpt Hotel Montague β Paris
βSo do you think weβre ever going to feel like a normal
couple?β Annie asked as they stumbled back into their hotel
room, Nashβs hands cupping her breasts, his breath hot
against her cheek.
βTrust me, angel, normal is overrated.β He pushed her back
against the wall, his thumbs rubbing heated circles through
the soft silk of her halter top. βAnd anyway I kind of
like what weβve got.β
βRight,β she sighed, shivering as he kissed her neck. βSex
on the run.β
βWell, itβs not like we have a lot of free time.β His mouth
slanted over hers, his tongue sending fire lacing through
her belly. It was always like this. Combustible. Their
desire heightened by the possibility that each time could be
the last.
βMaybe we should adjourn to the bedroom?β She nodded toward
the doorway of the suite, and then gasped as he pushed her
skirt up around her thighs.
βWhatβs wrong with right here. Right now?β He teased her
with his fingers, the friction of satin against skin
threatening instant explosion. She lifted her hips, but he
pulled back, his slow smile taunting her. βUnless of
course youβve changed your mind?β
βNot on your life.β She reached up to unbutton his shirt,
her fingers tracing the scars that laced his chest. Twisted
mementos of their life together. βTell me what you want,β
she whispered, her breathing labored.
βYou, Annie. All I ever want is you.β
βSo take me,β she taunted, anticipation coiling inside her,
hot and heavy. Sometimes she thought maybe she wanted
something more. Something that resembled
normalcyβcommitment. But not now. Not in this moment.
Right now all she wanted was Nash.
For a moment their passion stretched taut between them and
then, trembling with the sheer power of the feelings he
evoked, she arched her back, welcoming his hands and mouth
as he crushed her against him. This was what she craved.
What she wanted. As long as she had Nash, she could endure
anything.
Anything.
βThe bedβ¦I canβtβ¦please.β She gasped the words as they
stumbled backwards, the need so intense now she thought she
might die of it.
His dark eyes reflecting her passion, Nash swung her up into
his arms and in two strides they were through the door, and
on the bed, the cool cotton sheets a counterpoint to the
heat that pulsed between them.
Annie pressed against him, her eyes riveted for a moment on
the mirror across from the bed and the image of their
interlocked bodies moving in tandem. Two shattered souls
desperately seeking release. She sighed, and then froze as
something else in the mirror moved.
A shadow detached itself from the wall, and Annie dug her
nails into Nashβs back, instinct and training overriding
passion in an instant. Nashβs muscles tightened in response
and moving with a precision gained from years of working
together, they sprang apart, a bullet smashing into the
headboard between them. Annie rolled to the floor,
reaching for the gun she kept strapped to her thigh. In her
ardent haste she hadnβt had time to remove her weapon.
But Nash had. Heβd thrown it on the table as heβd carried
her to bed.
Damn it all to hell.
From her vantage point beside the bed, she couldnβt see Nash
or their assailant. Which meant she needed to move.
Popping up to fire a round in the direction of the shadow,
she rolled out from the bed, diving for cover behind a chair
as a bullet shattered a lamp just above her head.
Nash was cornered between the bed and the wall, the bed
giving protection, at least for the moment, but the gunman
had the advantage. He stood between them and the door, with
a large wardrobe to his left blocking her from taking a
clear shot.
βWell isnβt this a pickle,β their assailant said, his accent
a smooth blend of American and French. She should have
known. Adrian Benoit. Theyβd only just been in his
apartment. Looks like he was returning the favor.
βSeems weβve got ourselves a Mexican stand off,β he drawled.
βExcept that none of us are Mexican,β Nash quipped. She
could see him now reflected in the mirror. And when he
smiled, she realized he could see her as well. Which meant
he had a plan.
βDoesnβt matter,β Benoit continued. βIβve clearly got the
advantage.β
βSo what, you want us to come out with our hands up?β Nash
queried, nodding almost imperceptibly toward his gun lying
on the table about five feet in front of her.
βIt would certainly make things easier. But what I really
want are the files you stole from my computer.β
βAnd then youβll let us go? Right. And Iβve got some
swamplandβ¦β Nashβs laugh was harsh as he tipped his head
slightly, signaling for her to stand ready. Annie nodded,
already shifting her position.
βWell now, there wouldnβt be any fun in letting you live,
would there?β Benoit responded, anger clouding his voice.
Annie drew a breath, rolled out from behind the chair, fired
once and then dove for the table, her hand closing around
the butt of Nashβs gun. βTwo oβclock,β she yelled, as she
chunked the weapon overhand toward Nash, still shooting in
Benoitβs direction in an attempt to provide some modicum of
cover. Her ploy worked, Benoit turning to return fire as
Nash emerged from behind the bed in a flying leap,
intercepting the gun as it tumbled through the air.
Two seconds later and it was over. Benoit lay dead in a
pool of his own blood.
βAre you all right?β Nash asked, pushing to his feet.
βIβm fine,β she said as they met halfway, Nashβs arms
closing around her.
βYou sure?β He ran his hands down her now trembling body,
double checking to ascertain if sheβd told him the truth.
βReally. He didnβt hurt me. You were the one without the gun.β
βEvened the odds.β He shrugged, his voice buoyed by
adrenaline, his smile edged with a ruthlessness that had
kept him alive more times than she cared to remember. βSo
where were we?β
βI think that ship has sailed,β she said, her gaze falling
on the body.
βI suppose youβre right,β Nash said, brushing a strand of
hair from her face. βWeβve got to get out of here before
someone starts asking questions. Benoit was using a
silencer. But we werenβt.β
βIβll start wiping things down.β She pulled away, and
reached for a pair of gloves, falling effortlessly into a
pattern theyβd perfected over countless operations.
βSo what was it you said earlier?β Nash called from across
the room where he was packing their gear, his tone teasing,
the fact that theyβd just survived deathβagainβalready an
afterthought. βSomething about wondering if weβd ever be a
normal couple?β
Despite the gravity of the situation, Annie smiled. She
loved this man. With every ounce of her being. And the
cold hard truth was that she wouldnβt change a single thing
about their life. βI think,β she said, reaching down to
retrieve Benoitβs gun, βthat I just answered my own question.β
 A-Tac DARK DECEPTIONS
#1.0
β’ April 2010
 DANGEROUS DESIRES
#2.0
β’ July 2010
 DESPERATE DEEDS
#3.0
β’ August 2010
 DARING
#3.5
β’ July 2011
 DEEP DISCLOSURE
#4.0
β’ September 2011
 DEADLY DANCE
#5.0
β’ April 2012
Our Past Week of Fresh Picks
|