EXIT STRATEGY is the first book in this heart stopping
EXIT, Inc. series will
keep you at the edge of your seats.
Sabrina Hightower wakes in the middle of the night
thinking
she's being robbed. She is totally shocked when she's
carried
off by muscle bound Mason Hunt who is there to rescue her.
She's even more shocked when she learns that Mason was
sent
there to kill her.
Mason is an enforcer with EXIT, Inc. and is suspicious
about
the orders he's been given. When he decides to not follow
through on those orders he and Sabrina are on the run.
EXIT STRATEGY keeps your attention from the beginning to
the end.
They encounter one disaster after the other.
Sabrina has suffered so much personal loss until she's not
sure who she can trust. Trying to keep Sabrina safe will
prove to be quite a challenge for Mason because Sabrina
shows
that she's not docile and does not take well to orders.
Because of the type of life Mason has lead he is kind of
rough
around the edges but being around Sabrina brings out
feelings
he can't keep hidden. Mason tries to keep a distance
between
them but soon learns that it's pointless to try to resist
it.
With assassins after them from all directions Mason gets
some
help from fellow enforcers. They have a full out war
ahead of
them and it takes everything they have to get through it.
When it seems like all hope is gone Mason proves to
Sabrina
that she can rely on him to keep her safe.
Trying to prove that the CEO of EXIT is corrupt proves to
be
harder for Mason and his fellow enforcers than they had
hoped
for.
Looking forward to the next book to see how things work
out
for Mason and Sabrina. EXIT STRATEGY is a great story
about trust and
determination.
Lena Diaz knows how to entertain you!
Lena Diaz launches her thrilling new series featuring the
undercover vigilantes of EXIT Inc. with a skilled
operative
putting his life—and his heart—on the line for a woman in
trouble
When Sabrina Hightower awakens to the sound of an
intruder,
she figures he's there to rob her, murder her— or worse.
She
doesn't expect to be carried off by a muscle-bound stud
with
male-model good looks . . . or that he came to rescue
her.
Mason Hunt became an enforcer with EXIT Inc. to eliminate
the bad guys—terrorists, militia groups, all those who
would
do America harm. But his latest target is innocent. If
EXIT
could lie about sultry, strong-willed Sabrina, what
darker
truths might they be concealing?
Going rogue in the rugged North Carolina mountains, Mason
risks everything to keep Sabrina close, especially now
that
EXIT's lethal assassins are chasing them down. The heat
is
on . . . but it's nothing compared to the slow burn of
seduction.
Excerpt
Sabrina crept into her moonlit living room and grabbed
the arm of the couch for support. Her right hand,
slippery with blood, slid across the cloth and she fell
to her knees on the hardwood floor. A gasp of pain
escaped between her clenched teeth before she could stop
it.
She froze, searching the dark recesses of the room,
squinting to try to bring everything into focus. If the
intruder was within ten feet of her, no problem, she
could make out every little detail. But any farther than
that and he might as well be a fuzzy blob on the
wallpaper.
Had he heard her? She listened intently for the echo of
footsteps in the hall outside, or the squeak of a shoe,
the rasp of cloth against cloth. But all she heard was
silence. In a fair world, that might mean the stranger
had given up and left the house. But in her world,
especially the nightmarish last six months, it probably
meant he was lying in wait around the next corner, ready
to attack.
The throbbing burn in her right bicep had her angling her
arm toward the moonlight filtering through the plantation
shutters to see if the damage was as bad as it felt.
Nope. It was worse. Blood ran down her arm from a jagged,
two-inch gash and dripped to the floor.
She clasped her left hand over the cut, applying pressure
and clenching her mouth shut to keep from hissing at the
white-hot flash of pain. She had to stop the bleeding.
But there wasn’t any point in looking for something here
in the living room to bind the wound. Only the couch and
a wing chair remained of the antiques that she’d brought
with her halfway across the country from Boulder,
Colorado to Asheville, North Carolina. She’d sold the
other furniture, and even some of her sketches, to pay
the exorbitant fees of the private investigators
searching for her grandfather and the even more
exorbitant fees of the lawyers.
She supposed the Carolina Panthers nightshirt that she
was wearing might be useful as a tourniquet. But she
didn’t relish the possibility of facing an intruder in
nothing but her panties. The nightshirt was definitely
staying on.
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