"The black ops A-TAC group is again involved in an action-packed adventure with dramatic results."
Reviewed by Mandy Burns
Posted June 16, 2010
Romance Suspense
Madeline considers herself a total failure, especially
since she is unable to save her sister from the dangerous
trap of drugs. Madeline's attempt to save her sister
becomes a nightmare when the rescue ends badly, sending
Madeline to San Mateo, a political prison, for murdering a
man attacking her sister. Madeline is offered a way out of
prison with the promise of helping her sister if she uses
her own contacts to complete dangerous jobs for a well-
known drug lord. After three years of following orders and
becoming a traitor to her own country, Madeline decides to
step up her own investigation to bring down the drug lord.
While searching an office, Madeline comes across some
devastating information regarding her sister, forcing
Madeline to go to the American Embassy for help. Drake, an operative for the secret CIA black ops group A-
TAC, finds that luck is not in his favor lately. With the
death of his brother and the betrayal of every woman he
comes in contact with, Drake decides to take an A-TAC job
to keep his mind off his problems. His objective is to
extract an American claiming to have information on weapons
at a drug lord's compound in Columbia, confirm her
knowledge of the hidden weapons cache and destroy it. The
moment Drake locates Madeline, the operation goes array;
damaged equipment and an escape through the jungle is only
a small fraction of the complications arising from this
operation. The immediate chemistry between Madeline and
Drake is unmistakable and hard to resist, even as they
begin fighting for their lives. The second book in the A-TAC series is action-packed from
page one with enough drama that you will never put the book
down until the end. A very intriguing read.
SUMMARY
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 Ramón, 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 Ramón'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 Ramón - 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
Ramón 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.
ExcerptHotel Montague – Paris“So do you think we’re ever going to feel like a normal
couple?” Annie asked as they stumbled back into their hotel
room, Nash’s hands cupping her breasts, his breath hot
against her cheek. “Trust me, angel, normal is overrated.” He pushed her back
against the wall, his thumbs rubbing heated circles through
the soft silk of her halter top. “And anyway I kind of
like what we’ve got.” “Right,” she sighed, shivering as he kissed her neck. “Sex
on the run.” “Well, it’s not like we have a lot of free time.” 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. “Maybe we should adjourn to the bedroom?” She nodded toward
the doorway of the suite, and then gasped as he pushed her
skirt up around her thighs. “What’s wrong with right here. Right now?” 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. “Unless of
course you’ve changed your mind?” “Not on your life.” She reached up to unbutton his shirt,
her fingers tracing the scars that laced his chest. Twisted
mementos of their life together. “Tell me what you want,”
she whispered, her breathing labored. “You, Annie. All I ever want is you.” “So take me,” she taunted, anticipation coiling inside her,
hot and heavy. Sometimes she thought maybe she wanted
something more. Something that resembled
normalcy—commitment. 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. “The bed…I can’t…please.” 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 Nash’s back, instinct and training overriding
passion in an instant. Nash’s 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 hadn’t had time to remove her weapon. But Nash had. He’d thrown it on the table as he’d carried
her to bed. Damn it all to hell. From her vantage point beside the bed, she couldn’t 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. “Well isn’t this a pickle,” their assailant said, his accent
a smooth blend of American and French. She should have
known. Adrian Benoit. They’d only just been in his
apartment. Looks like he was returning the favor. “Seems we’ve got ourselves a Mexican stand off,” he drawled. “Except that none of us are Mexican,” 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. “Doesn’t matter,” Benoit continued. “I’ve clearly got the
advantage.” “So what, you want us to come out with our hands up?” Nash
queried, nodding almost imperceptibly toward his gun lying
on the table about five feet in front of her. “It would certainly make things easier. But what I really
want are the files you stole from my computer.” “And then you’ll let us go? Right. And I’ve got some
swampland…” Nash’s laugh was harsh as he tipped his head
slightly, signaling for her to stand ready. Annie nodded,
already shifting her position. “Well now, there wouldn’t be any fun in letting you live,
would there?” 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 Nash’s gun. “Two o’clock,” she yelled, as she
chunked the weapon overhand toward Nash, still shooting in
Benoit’s 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. “Are you all right?” Nash asked, pushing to his feet. “I’m fine,” she said as they met halfway, Nash’s arms
closing around her. “You sure?” He ran his hands down her now trembling body,
double checking to ascertain if she’d told him the truth. “Really. He didn’t hurt me. You were the one without the gun.” “Evened the odds.” 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. “So
where were we?” “I think that ship has sailed,” she said, her gaze falling
on the body. “I suppose you’re right,” Nash said, brushing a strand of
hair from her face. “We’ve got to get out of here before
someone starts asking questions. Benoit was using a
silencer. But we weren’t.” “I’ll start wiping things down.” She pulled away, and
reached for a pair of gloves, falling effortlessly into a
pattern they’d perfected over countless operations. “So what was it you said earlier?” Nash called from across
the room where he was packing their gear, his tone teasing,
the fact that they’d just survived death—again—already an
afterthought. “Something about wondering if we’d ever be a
normal couple?” 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 wouldn’t change a single thing
about their life. “I think,” she said, reaching down to
retrieve Benoit’s gun, “that I just answered my own question.”
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