Ding.

Me: “New email, cool! Hey, it’s from Book Bub with today’s deals! Super cool!”

I start scrolling down, mumbling, “No… Not in the mood for this…. Maybe this one–no.”

And so on. You know how it goes, right?

While I was doing that, the reasoning behind two of my choices (one leading up to buying a book; the other turning a book down) made me face where I stand these days, as far as life goes.

I said no to a story where the Heroine, overworked and pregnant (long story), takes a break and goes to Alaska (I love Alaska as a setting. Along with Texas, Ireland, and Scotland, is one of my favorites). Up to that point, I was sure I was going to click buy. Love the setting, the story is fresh, it has a gazillion of 5star reviews. What can possibly go wrong, right?

Then the next line.

It stopped me and my buy-button-hovering finger.

Her needy family….

I was out.

This woman, a woman who had made a place for herself by herself, who’s pregnant and overworked, has to leave her house and her life because of a needy family??? No way, man.

You see, the thing is, I was never her. It was never that bad. But I have family trouble and pressure. I’m about to face some of that, I know there will be fights, and how those will take a toll on me (hell, before starting this blog I researched non-drowsy anxiety medicines over the counter). The last thing I need now is reading about it, going through the same s#@t. Unless she tells them all to go and you-know-where to go. Which I don’t believe she will.

Hence, my not buying the book. A shame, because it seemed like a great story.

What I did buy was a story where the Hero is a scholar. I’m telling you, lately, I’m crushing on nerdy men. Not because my husband is a hot nerd, although I’ve always appreciated that type more. It’s just that I need a break from alpha growling in favor of a quiet, maybe even aloof, vibe. Again, it’s about to get hot and uncomfortable around here, I don’t need more noise, I don’t need adrenaline.

I need to relax. I need quiet, and a quietly heroic Hero.

So now I have one in my kindle, waiting to tell me his and the Heroine’s story.

And this is how I realized how much what happens in my life, my mood, influences my choice in books.

Do you feel the same?

Are the books you read a mirror of, or the reason why, you read a particular story?

Crescent Creek Bundle

From the cold Canadian border, the US1 runs along the east coast with patience. Southbound, always south, until it reaches the Sunshine State.

Not the fastest way, sure, but if you have time to drive it all the way down, you might find yourself lost in one of the coastal towns that dot the US1 like little jewels.

Maybe that town’s name is Crescent Creek.

These are the stories of its people.

All Those Miles I Walked ~ Crescent Creek 1

At eighteen, DJ made a choice–her heart or her dreams. Neither was wrong, yet either would break her heart. She chose the world. Over a decade later, she returns to Crescent Creek and to the one regret she’s ever had–Scott.

Scott’s always been steady as a rocky reef. He’d loved once and when she’d left, his strong heart had crumbled like a sandcastle. Now DJ is back, and Scott wants nothing to do with her. If only Eva, his and DJ’s old friend, didn’t need their help. Because of her, he’s stuck with DJ and he’d be damned, she still gets under his skin.

DJ is a free spirit who needs the road under her feet. Scott is a family man who wants to groom his roots. With danger on their doorstep and a baby to keep safe, how much are they willing to compromise for love?

Painted Love ~ Crescent Creek 2

Thou shalt not steal.

Oh, but Florence had, and would do so one last time. Ten pieces her grandfather painted for her because he loved her. Ten pieces her mother lost, along with anything else, for loving the wrong man. She couldn’t get back everything he’d wasted away, but she’d be damned if she’d give up those paintings.

Easy and genuine, Rhett loves his life–his family, his market, his town. Until he meets a British woman with grey eyes and a cute little smile. The woman he’s been waiting for. The thing is, to love her is easy, but can he trust her?

When Rhett pushes to uncover her agenda, Flo knows she will lose something–the man she loves or what she’d been fighting for years. Which road will she choose?

His Midnight Sun ~ Crescent Creek 3

Tormented, fierce, and broken, sculptor Aidan Murphy has judged himself guilty. He yearns for love but pushes everyone away. He longs for acceptance but has lost the key to open his heart. Until he meets Summer Williams. Beautiful and smart, Dr. Williams promises haven for a man who believes he deserves none. All he has to do is let her in and risk his heart and soul.

Summer’s managed to keep her inner light alive, even through tragedy. She’s created a new life for herself and her daughter in Crescent Creek with loving, caring and fun friends–well, except brooding, breathtaking Aidan. She’s used to keeping away from his type, though. All she has to do is ignore the pull of a man who’s turning up to be much more than snarls and storms. Will her compassion and medical instincts let her?

Love can heal a broken soul and shake up a timid heart. Or it can unleash devastation and revenge.

Will Aidan and Summer survive the hurricane?

Buy: 
Amazon
Free with KU

About the Author

Beach bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding, hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family.

Find me:
On my website https://www.viviana-mackade.blog/
On Instagram
On FB
On Twitter
Amazon Author page

There are more reasons to love horses than I can share with you here. I’ve put together a few thoughts on why I love having companionship of horses in my life.

1. Motivation
These magnificent creatures are clearly a natural wonder in this world. Not only are they beautiful to behold, but artists and poets alike have been continually inspired by them. These living art forms remind us to live our lives at a higher level.

2. Pleasure
Not only are horses affectionate, enjoyable companions, they nurture the imagination, and are faithful, loving friends with a will to please.

3. Exercise
Trial riding is an amazing way to enjoy nature’s bounties while toning the body and burning calories. Riding uses many muscles and is a great workout. Combine it with animal grooming and care, barn work, getting in hay, and you’ve discovered the best kept fitness secret around.

4. Community
Social activities with horses are vast, depending on your interests. Horses allow you to fit into social circles with others who enjoy the same activities as you. You may prefer showing your animal, riding with a saddle club, hanging with a crowd from your stable, trail riding or camping with groups for trail riding weekends and socials around a campfire. Whatever interest you have, the love of these glorious animals will help you form bonds with other horse lovers.

5. Relaxation
When you ride the same mount consistently, he or she intuitively knows what you need. They seem to read your mind. They pay attention to minor nuances in your actions, mood and voice with a truly remarkable will to please. This is a two-way street. You will find yourself understanding and anticipating the horse’s actions as well. It’s a great way to allow your inner voice or natural ESP to work. There is no better way to improve your mood than being one with a horse.

6. Responsibility
Caring for the horse is priority one. Whether returning to the barn or campsite for a night, his needs come first. Prior to relaxing with a cold drink by a bonfire, the animal must be groomed, fed, watered, and put in a safe place. Before we were allowed to have a ride of our own, we cared for someone else’s mount for a while. The experience taught us the reality of ownership, and allowed us the chance to experience what truly unique creatures they are.

7. Freedom
There is nothing more freeing than riding a powerful steed in the sunshine with wind in your hair. On horseback you can venture far into the woods, climb soaring mountains, and see nature’s bounty first hand, regardless of your condition or any weakness you might have. The human body is frail and comes with limitations we are freed from on horseback.

8. Trust
Horses are wise creatures. They see a person for who they truly are. I liken them to dogs in this respect. They see our inner souls. They don’t care what your job is, what you have, or what your life is like.

You must earn a horse’s respect and prove yourself worthy before he will allow you to master him. This doesn’t mean you should bully him. Forget your ego. He needs to trust you. In return, you will learn to trust him. Establish an honest relationship with your animal, and he will willingly succumb to your commands and do anything in his power to please you.

9. Nature
Nature’s bounties are full of wonder. Horses are a perfect example. Spending time with them can calm you when life gets rough. With each rock in the saddle you’ll feel stress of the day sliding off your shoulders and disappearing. Isn’t that better for the body than drugs? Talk about returning to nature? Ride a horse.

He doesn’t emit pollution to damage the ozone, make irritating mechanical sounds, or create hazardous waste. He’s completely natural.

10. Friendship
I can’t argue that dogs are man’s best friend. Mine always slept on the foot of my bed. My horse can’t do that; but in every other respect, he’s right up there with my dog. Folks who’ve experienced friendship with a horse will totally understand this. It is a bond like no other.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynda Rees is a multi-published historical and suspense award-winning romance author. Freckle Face and Blondie is a children’s suspense middle-grade co-written with her ten-year-old author granddaughter, Harley Nelson. Lynda has two suspense novels about descendants of mobsters—God Father’s Day and Madam Mom. Her 2016 award winning historical novel Gold Lust Conspiracy depicts a woman’s struggle during the savage 1890’s Alaskan Gold Rush. Parsley, Sage, Rose, Mary & Wine, is Book one of The Bloodline Series and a 2015 and 2017 Golden Heart and RITA finalist. The Bloodline Series is set in Kentucky horse country.

The other series books are:
Blood and Studs – Hot Blooded – Blood of Champions
Bloodlines & Lies – The Bloodline Trail – Horseshoes & Roses
Real Money and The Bourbon Trail are due to launch early 2019.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy my work and we become life-long friends.
Lynda Rees Love is a dangerous mystery

Get these fine books and join Lynda’s VIP Group for specials, news and freebees. Use these links.
Amazon: amazon.com/author/lyndarees
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Email: lyndareesauthor@gmail.com
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Join the VIP Group:

UPDATE! My two winners are…Eileen and Sheryl!
*~*~*

I hope you haven’t forgotten my Uncharted SEALs stories! I do have quite a few of these action-packed stories for you to enjoy—12 of them! And I’m not saying I’m done with them either. In fact, one of the stories, Big Sky SEAL is about to have a sequel inside the Montana Bounty Hunters series, Big Sky Wedding!  I’ll have that story to you before the end of this month!

Uncharted SEALs spawned my Montana Bounty Hunters, and soon, MBH will spinoff to another series, but I’m not talking about that yet! Just know I love my military heroes, and I don’t plan to stop writing them anytime soon! I love writing them! They’re fast and funny. I make myself giggle when I write them.

And why write if you don’t have fun doing it, right? My Motto, always!

Here are all my currently available titles in Uncharted series.
Peruse these lovelies…

   

Click on the covers to learn more!

Contest

I’ll choose two winners! Tell me whether you’d love to see more Uncharted SEALs or Montana Bounty Hunters, or both for a chance to win your choice of an Uncharted SEAL story!

Between a SEAL and a Hard Place

The last person world-class sniper, Wolf Kinkaid, expected to see in the crosshairs of his rifle during an operation to take down a drug cartel assassin was his pretty, bounty hunter wife. He takes the shot, disarming the bad guy, but the assassin wasn’t working alone, and now, Piper is a target for revenge.

Solution? The two of them hole up in a safe house while his team tries to find the assassin’s psychotic brother. Piper and Wolf have issues to resolve, and all that time alone gives them something they haven’t enjoyed in excess for a while—each other. But while they get close, the enemy closes in…

Excerpt…

So many things were the same. Merciless heat beating down from above. Staring through the scope of a Macmillan Tac-50 from a dusty perch. Spotter at his elbow. Familiar chatter from the mission commander in his ear. And yet, everything was different.

For Wolf Kinkaid, the differences made the experience surreal. Yes, the air was hot, but he wasn’t wearing a heavy helmet, which would have cooked his brain.

His position was on a high-rise rooftop rather than amid rocks in a lonely mountain pass. The spotter at his elbow was dressed in SWAT black rather than a uniform of woodland camouflage, as was he. And the commander providing updates of what was happening inside the building entrance he surveilled wasn’t talking about insurgents. He gave details about an Assistant District Attorney, a “suit” who was about to exit the law building they watched.

Yup, he was a long, long way from Afghanistan.

“Suit’s taking the elevator,” Deke Warrick, the mission commander, said quietly over the comm in his ear.

Wolf checked the pictures he’d taped to the wall he knelt behind. One was of ADA Ben Souther who had a hit on him from a Mexican cartel, primarily for the fact he was preparing to prosecute a high-ranking cartel member for murder and racketeering. The second photo was of the assassin that the team—which consisted of FBI, ATF, and Charter agents—was trying to take down. They wanted to arrest the bastard and maybe milk him for names of other members residing in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. Wolf’s particular talent was needed to implement Plan B if the assassin got too close to Souther.

Outfitted with a Kevlar vest, Souther was accompanied by two bodyguards, both provided by Wolf’s new employer, Charter Group. They’d trained for this mission for a week in another city with a similar topography, all while keeping Souther in a safe house. Souther’s office had hired the company to provide added protection and, hopefully, nab another cartel member, because the cartel lieutenant they’d captured had, so far, remained uncooperative. After weeks of lying low, Souther had grown restless and suggested they end the impasse by allowing him to act as bait.

He was a gutsy bastard, an ex-Marine who’d used the GI Bill to complete his education and become an attorney. So, Charter had agreed, figuring he knew the score and could handle himself should shit go sideways. A situation which chatter from paid CIs said was about to happen.

“Get ready,” said Deke. “He’s about to come through the doors.”

His sights already set, Wolf looked through his scope, noted Souther’s set jaw, his short buzz-cut. Determination and fearlessness radiated from the man. He wasn’t a SEAL, but the man was a warrior, no matter he now wore a suit and tie. His battlefield was a different kind of minefield, a courtroom.

The doors swung open, and one of his guards preceded him, glancing left and right before turning to usher Souther through them. His second guard kept close to his back, glancing behind then taking in the sidewalk and the armored car placed behind a barricade that stood in front of the doors.

“We have movement from the West,” said Deke.

Wolf pivoted his weapon on its tripod. A slender figure with an impressive rack, wearing a ball cap, moved forward at a fast clip. But she wasn’t the target. He recognized that long, fit frame. Her brown and copper hair was drawn back in a ponytail that bobbed behind her. He noted a cord extending from her ear to her collar.

Damn, his fears were confirmed, the little twit was on the job, and likely looking for the same target they hoped to capture.

“Wolf, is that—”

“Southwest corner of the building,” came another urgent voice.

Again, Wolf sighted down his barrel. No time to wonder why she was here or how she’d discovered their plan. A man wearing blue jeans, a cowboy hat drawn low over his forehead, and wearing a casual jacket also made his way down the sidewalk from the opposite direction.

“God dammit,” he whispered as he took a bead on the man, ready to pull back the trigger at the first sight of a weapon—should the team closing in on him not get there in time. He glanced to the left, hoping the damned woman wasn’t about to get in the way of his bullet. Then she glanced up to the rooftop where he perched, mostly hidden, and he cussed again. She knew he was there, but she was still coming fast.

She reached behind her and drew a handgun then kept it hidden against her thigh.

“Dammit, he’s got a gun!” Deke said. “Wolf! Take him out!”

Wolf adjusted, aimed for the middle of the cowboy’s thigh, drew a breath, held it for a split second, and then pulled the trigger. Blood spurted from the wound.

Piper sprinted the last few feet and took the assailant down at the knees. His cowboy hat fell away, long black hair spilled, a dark hard-edged profile was revealed. They had their man.

Or rather, Piper did, pressing into the wound Wolf had made while shoving her Glock hard between the bastard’s legs.

The man reached out his hands and dropped his weapon to the pavement at the same moment the first of Souther’s guards took position over him and Piper, his stance wide and his weapon pointing downward.

Blood pounded in his ears. Wolf cussed again and put down his weapon.

“Want me to pack up for you?” his spotter drawled.

Wolf shot him a deadly glare. “Not a fucking word.”

The man smirked and took up position behind the weapon, likely to watch the fireworks through the scope.

Wolf headed to the stairwell and hopped the steps two at a time, racing downward. At ground level, he hit the bar on the exit door with a bang and sprinted across the street.

The team was converging. Souther had been moved to the armored car. Piper was still on the ground, but now lying face down beside her “collar” with her hands cupped behind her head.

“I have paperwork in my pocket,” she said, annoyance in her voice. “He’s mine to return to Houston on an outstanding warrant.” Frowning, she glanced behind her shoulder. “Is this really necessary?”

Deke shook his head then spotted Wolf bearing down on them. “Mind explaining how she knew to be here at this exact moment?” he bit out.

Wolf shook his head, too furious to get out the words. She’d promised him she’d be taking easier jobs, ones close to home. And although she’d never promised to stay completely out of harm’s way, something that would have been impossible for a bounty hunter to do, she had said she wouldn’t be seeking the most dangerous, high-value jobs. At least, she’d kept the first promise about staying closer to home. He bent and tugged at her earpiece, dislodging it.

When she looked over her other shoulder at him, she ventured a thin smile. “Hi, there, hon. Thought that might be you on the rooftop.”

He brought the device to his mouth. “Calvin, hustle your ass down here. Now,” he gritted out then dropped it. She began to open her mouth. “Just shut up.” He glanced at Deke, wanting to know if he had a preference for how this should be handled.

“Bring her along. I’d like to hear her sorry excuse, too.”

Several of the team turned as a large man barreled down the walkway, huffing. “Damn, Piper,” Calvin said, pausing beside her, then bending, hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. “Told you this was a bad idea.”

“I took him down,” she said, her voice gruff. “He’s mine.”

“Don’t think they’re gonna agree, baby girl, and your man looks ready to pop an aneurism.”

She glanced back again. “Can I get up?”

Barely able to keep his motions contained, Wolf reached behind his back, drew out a set of cuffs and snagged her wrists, drawing them down to the small of her back, and quickly snapping on the cuffs. Then he gripped her upper left arm and levered her to a stand.

Deke handed him her piece and the keys to the vehicle they’d come in. “See you back at HQ.”

Wolf grunted and goose-walked his wife to the underground garage.

A reader-friend of mine mentioned recently that she thinks I have the most intriguing “meet-cutes”—you know, those scenes where the hero and heroine first meet. I think I might have outdone myself with Animal and Allie’s meet-cute!  You’ll have to let me know!

Animal is here! I’ve already started on the next bounty hunter! If you haven’t read the series, there are now eight Montana Bounty Hunters! I love them, and hope to write about new hunters and revisit those I already love in future stories. As well, those of you who follow the series have probably already figured out I’m spinning off a new series, but that’s for another day.

Today, we celebrate my big, grumpy, sexy ANIMAL!

Happy reading, y’all!

Animal

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

A rough-around-the-edges bounty hunter takes a nature photographer on a wild ride.

Former SEAL, Russell “Animal” Hathcoat, retreated to a remote mountain cabin after leaving the Navy. Haunted by horrific images that replay in his nightmares of his last mission with his SEAL brothers, he intends to renovate the dilapidated cabin as penance and therapy, and to avoid rejoining the world around him. But then, someone who understands what he needs better than he does arrives to offer him a job.

Allie Travers loves the freedom and solitude of being a nature photographer and journalist–until the day she stares through her lens at a charging black bear. With her heart in her throat, she can only stand watching in horror, knowing she’ll never escape in time. But rescue comes in the form of a wild man who risks his life to frighten away the animal.

Once the danger is past, she’s told by his team of bounty hunters that she has more to fear than any animal in the woods. A felon is on the loose, and she has to accompany them to safety. Seeing an opportunity, Allie shadows the team as they hunt their prey deep in a national forest. Much to Animal’s dismay, more than just his protective instincts are aroused by the pretty photojournalist.

Get your copy here!
Animal is FREE on Kindle Unlimited for a very limited time!

And if you haven’t already read the stories leading up to ANIMAL, just click on the covers below!

 

 

I hope everyone is having a super January!

I’d love to share my 10th book, Her Deception. This is my second M. M. Mayfield book. Choosing a title isn’t easy as some folks think it is. My working title was Angel, since my main character adopts the name Angel when she leaves her husband to return to stripping. So now you know! I called this book my stripper book. That gets some curious looks. After checking Amazon for titles, I discarded The Stripper’s Revenge, Angel’s Revenge, Their Deception and Their Secrets. So here is Her Revenge, my stripper book.

Her Deception

The day Patrice heard her husband order a hit to be done quickly or his ass wouldn’t be worth anything, she knew she had to leave him. The only way she knew to investigate him and his people was by returning to stripping where she would meet the people who dealt in death, drugs, and prostitution. When she worked her way through college she learned more about crime than she ever wanted to know.

Why would anyone believe Hugh, the man who played golf with the mayor of the a small town on the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia, who socialized with the chief of police in that town and respected business owner had a second life one involving crimes? Who would believe a former stripper over this man?

Excerpt…

By the time Patrice searched every surface of furniture in every room in the house, she felt drained. Tomorrow she’d make an appearance at her office, attend the staff meeting.

Tomorrow she’d clear out with resources to start a new life away from this house. She’d miss the things she’d done to change a sterile, fashionable showplace into a beautiful home. If she could get the goods on Hugh, he’d go to jail and everything would likely be confiscated.

Nothing she took must be traced back to her.

She grabbed Hugh’s car keys and searched his Mercedes. One slip of paper between the seats contained a combination of numbers and letters. These she copied. She dared not leave anything that would catch the attention of the car’s proud owner. She had actually seen her husband take out a monogrammed silk handkerchief and wipe a speck of dust from the dashboard. He’d notice any minor damage to the carpet or any lining or cover moved, so she had to stop her search.

Exhausted, but keyed-up, Patrice went back to the master bathroom upstairs and filled the whirlpool tub to soak. For the last time she poured her favorite bath salts, a gift from Hugh.

Climbing into the tub, she sank up to her neck in foaming water. Even over the noise of the water jets, she heard the hateful words echoing. “Get the job done before Friday or forget the price we discussed. If the man is alive to stand trial, we’re all dead.”

She didn’t want to hear them. Enough already, think about something else. Blue Atlanta skies, magnolia blossoms, fragrant honeysuckle, juicy ripe peaches, symphony music, the man who introduced her to the world of Atlanta culture.

Warmth melted her bones and moving water lulled her. “We don’t pay you to think. Just kill the man like we told you to. Make it look good, the way you always have. My employers don’t leave loose ends alive, you should know that.”

Patrice woke with a start in a tub of cold water. Was someone in the house? Had she really heard the hateful words or has she dreamed them? She stood shivering as she grabbed her towel from the warming rack and wrapped it around her body. She listened. No thumps, no footsteps. Surely her subconscious had awakened her to keep her from drowning in her bath.

Surely the noise had been her imagination, like the sound of Hugh’s voice moments ago. She yanked her soft robe from its hook on the door, then put it on. Grabbing her cell phone and the gun on the ledge of the tub – she had kept them within reach – she crept to her room.

The downstairs alarm hadn’t gone off, but a woman couldn’t be too careful. If Hugh had returned home early he’d have called out to her. He didn’t know she had heard him order a man killed.

Carrying her gun and cell phone she eased into the hall and searched. Her guilty conscience made her jumpy. Since there would be no sleep for her, she selected a few of her books and other items Hugh wouldn’t notice were missing.

She emptied jewelry cases into the bag with lingerie and sleepwear. The street-smart person knew to take salable things, so she filled an overnight bag with Hugh’s watches and rings. He’d think they’d been robbed, a false trail.

Once she’d moved that suitcase down to the garage, she selected her two most expensive furs. She lugged them down to the garage and put them in her car’s trunk.

Since she’d done everything, she went to her bedroom to rest. She mussed the bed. Her cook and housekeeper would believe this morning was just like any other morning.

For the few hours she dozed, she didn’t rest well. A memory made her bolt straight up in bed. Vacations. Foreign banks. Yeah, she and Hugh had visited one bank in the Bahamas and one in Switzerland. What had they been called? She didn’t sleep, but she did remember details about off shore banks.

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Her-Deception-M-Mayfield-ebook/dp/B07HF4X5V2/

Contest

Comment for a chance to win a download of Write Dirty to Me.

Find Mary Marvella/M.M. Mayfield at:
https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Marvella/e/B008E1SJ32
https://goodreads.com/author/show/4909455.Mary_Marvella
https://www.facebook.com/ARomanceCaper
www.MaryMarvella.com
https://www.facebook.com/mmbarfield
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mary-Marvella- Author/121044561311561
https://pinkfuzzyslippersauthors.wordpress.com
Follow Mary Marvella on Twitter @mmarvellab
https://mmmayfieldauthor.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/mm.mayfieldauthor

UPDATE: The winner is…Sheryl Stark!
*~*~*

Want to win a tote filled with books from your favorite authors?
Want to find out ow Strike Force came to be?
Want to win a copy of UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER, Strike Force Book #1?
Leave a comment

In honor of the prerelease of ADVANCE TO THE REAR, Book #4, Strike Force, in my reader group I am running a contest for four more weeks. Each week we award one book but at the end of the campaign, on release day, February 12, some lucky person will win a Desiree Holt tote filled with signed books from some of your favorite authors, including the fabulous Delilah Devlin.

The concept of Strike Force originated from many conversations I was fortunate to have with a former member of Delta Force. He shared what he could of his experiences and patiently answered my tiring questions, so I could get it just right. In addition, I am so lucky to have become friends with a former member of one of the elite forces who is now in law enforcement. He has been invaluable in making sure my information is correct and that I don’t throw outrageous stuff into my books. In fact, he’s a fanatic about it, one of the reasons I dedicated the book to him.

The concept of ADVANCE TO THE REAR is, as they say, ripped from the headlines and is a very real probability.

Here is an exclusive excerpt.

Bang!

The explosion two streets over erupted in the night air. At the same moment, Slade detonated a small amount of Semtex on the back door and blew it open, the sound barely seconds behind it. Then they were in the rear room of the house, a room as barren as the one at Ibrahim’s. The two hostages, a man and a woman, huddled together in a corner, looking both terrified and bewildered. Both looked disheveled and each of them sported bruises on their arms and their faces.

Bile rose in Marc’s throat, as it always did when he saw how human beings had been unnecessarily been abused. Once out of here and back at the FOB, they’d get proper attention. Right now, though, the only focus was getting the fuck out of here.

This was always the hairiest part. They had scant seconds to pull this off. Slade held up a finger to his lips to signal silence, then mouthed “U. S. Army.” He and Marc pulled the hostages out through the back door, silent as ghosts. Beau and Trey had their guns out and ready to hit anyone who came through the door from the front of the house. In seconds they were all out in the alley behind the house where Ibrahim, good as his word, now waited in his cousin’s van. Seconds later they were all inside. Down the narrow street and around the corner. They stopped only long enough for Ibrahim to get out and melt away. If he was caught driving them he and his family would be annihilated.

Then Slade took over and they headed hell-bent for leather out of town.

The hostages sat silent and petrified in the middle seat, sandwiched between Trey and Marc. They clung to each other as if that contact was their only salvation.

“I know you can’t figure out what’s happening,” Trey said, his voice soothing. “All you have to know is you are with American soldiers and in less than thirty minutes we’ll all be out of here.”

Still neither of them spoke. Marc could imagine the treatment they’d suffered, the way their captors had terrorized them. But at least they weren’t screaming and trying to run away from the team, or doing anything else to hinder their departure. Beyond a cursory examination to make sure the two were mobile and didn’t need to be carried, the team had not questioned them.

“Still all clear back here,” Beau said from the third seat. He was on his knees, his rifle pointing out the window of the rear hatch door.

Marc knew he had one order to execute. If anyone came up behind them, shoot and keep shooting. Marc kept checking his watch, counting down to when the Night Stalker would be there. So far so good. They were out in the desert now, the driving slow going through the sand.

They were almost at the extraction point when Beau hollered back to them.

“Enemy vehicle on the horizon. Right on our tail.”

The MH-60 M Black Hawk zoomed in and hovered just past the van, skillfully handled by its Night Stalker pilot. Marc helped hustle the aid workers out of the van and into the chopper, handing them up to the two men crouched in the open doorway. Sand kicked up everywhere from the rotors, getting into even their eyes and teeth.

Beau was the last one in, crouched in the open doorway, positioned with his gun. Just as they lifted off, the four-wheel drive vehicle made it to the outskirts of Agadez and came plowing through the sand. The man riding in the rear began firing the vehicle-mounted machine gun while two other climbed out and started firing assault weapons at the chopper.

The pilot banked to the left, away from the line of fire, even as Beau fired steadily at the men below. And then they were out of range, rising higher until the desert was far below them.

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UPDATE: The winner is…Rebecca Merz!
*~*~*

Series lovers, I have one for you! Love a lot of badass alpha heroes, fast action, great sex, and humor? Well, that’s what I deliver in Montana Bounty Hunters! And another installment is set to drop next Tuesday!

Are you caught up? No? Then click on a cover to pick up your copy of one of these fast-paced stories and begin your blitz-read through the series, because next Tuesday Animal is coming!

  

 

 

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Excerpt from Animal…

Animal tuned out the crackling, thudding sounds of his team members moving through the forest.

On day three after he’d joined the hunt, he wasn’t regretting his decision to give MBH a try. He’d been unwilling to make any long-term promises. Hadn’t signed a contract or filled out a W-9. Not yet, anyway. When Fetch had described what Tibbets had done, and then talked about the hunters who were already on his trail, Animal had felt a stirring of interest. Manhunts were something he was familiar with. So, he wasn’t hunting a high-dollar target through the Hindu Kush mountains. Wasn’t dropping into some walled compound to sweep a house in the dead of night.

Still, this felt familiar. Moving through the bushes. Tracking a target. Looking for campfires, footprints, signs Tibbets had stopped to piss or shit. That morning, they’d found a butchered deer. Most of the carcass had been left for scavengers. So, it hadn’t been left by a game hunter. He’d taken a portion of a haunch, had roasted it over a quickly built fire, and had eaten as much as he could before moving on.

Looked like Tibbets was feeling pretty sure he’d slipped the noose. He hadn’t even bothered to try to bury the evidence he’d been there.

The first afternoon, Animal had ridden along with Carly and Reaper. They’d shown him the warrant and pictures of Tibbets and his family. They’d canvassed businesses in Olney—gun shops, grocers, gas stations, but no one recalled seeing him or his cousin Murray.

That evening, they headed to Tibbets’s favorite haunt again. The women sat at the long polished bar, chatting up the bartender and the waitresses. Dagger and Mace played pool with two plugged-in and gossipy locals. Reaper and Animal sat at a table, watching the doors. But none of them were getting any bites.

About an hour into their surveillance, Hook and Cochise arrived.

Hook slapped a map on the table. “Found the parcel his family owns. It sits on a creek.”

“’Bout damn time,” Reaper had muttered.

The next morning, they’d geared up and surrounded a small, ratty camper trailer. Tibbets had been there recently but was now gone. After tearing through his belongings, searching for clues where he might have gone next, they bagged up dirty clothes for Mace’s dog Taco to scent on.

The moment Taco lowered his nose to the ground, following Tibbets’s trail from the camper’s metal steps, they’d realized the man had headed straight into the woods, afoot, rather than driving out.

They’d left Dagger, Lacey, and Cochise behind to watch for any movement in town, to keep an eye any one of his relatives who looked ready to head north with supplies to help him out, but the rest of the team grabbed their gear from their vehicles and began tracking him into Flathead National Forest.

Animal didn’t mind the rough conditions. He was accustomed to long marches and sleeping on the ground. None of the hunters, even Carly Stenberg, complained about the conditions, even after they’d endured a chilly rain the previous day. They’d dried their clothes beside a fire last night, reasonably assured they were still a day’s hike from catching up to Tibbets. Conversation had flowed around him, but he hadn’t felt the need to try to contribute.

This was a tight, well-trained crew, and they knew each other well. But they seemed to understand he wasn’t the chatty type. He rather liked the fact they let him be.

They came to the edge of the woods. A large meadow stretched before them, mountains in the background. The meadow was broken on one side by ridges of exposed rock.

“We got company,” Reaper said quietly. They all held back, remaining hidden by the brush. Reaper lifted an arm and pointed.

Animal pulled out his tactical telescope and followed Reaper’s direction, at last spotting a slender figure standing beside an outcropping. Not their mark. A woman. She stood in front of a tripod and peered into a camera. She had wheat-colored hair drawn back into a messy braid. She wore a red plaid shirt and a khaki vest over blue jeans and boots.

Suddenly, she jerked back her head, giving him a glimpse of her profile. Her eyebrows were lowered, her mouth dropping as she stared down the hill.

He turned his telescope toward whatever had caught her attention and immediately understood her concern.

A baby black bear ambled into the clearing, heading upward toward her location.

“Where’s mama?” he whispered.

As though answering his question, a loud bellow sounded from the forest farther down the tree line. A bear ran out, huffing and bellowing, heading toward the woman.

He didn’t have even a millisecond to think through a better plan. Animal dumped his pack and ran into the clearing, tearing at his shirt. When he’d ripped off the buttons down the front, he flapped the edges, trying to make himself look bigger. “Ha! Ha!” he yelled as loud as he could to draw the bear’s attention away from the woman.

Mama Bear bounced on her front paws and spun toward him.

“Don’t shoot unless you have to!” Animal tossed over his shoulder to Reaper.

“Don’t get in my line of fire!” Reaper shouted back.

“Don’t shoot her!” the woman screamed.

“You, shut up!” Animal yelled, still running, still flapping.

The bear’s head moved from Animal to Reaper behind him, and again to the woman, likely trying to decide who was the biggest danger to her cub.

The baby bear squalled and changed direction, running for his mama.

Just when Animal feared the bear would charge, she spun and ran into the woods, her cub running right behind her.

Animal halted, breathing hard. He gave another flap of his shirt. “Ha! Ha!” he shouted, hoping she’d been startled bad enough not to turn around.

Then he heard a whirring sound, coming from up the rise. He turned his head toward the woman. The sound came from her camera. Animal gave her a fierce glare then began to stalk up the rise.

When he reached her, she straightened and flashed him a wide smile. “Thanks for that. Thought for a second there I was going to be lunch.”

“What the hell!” he bellowed, anger shot through him. Didn’t she have a clue how close to being “lunch” he’d been, trying to rescue her? And all she’d thought about was taking her damn pictures?

Her eyebrows shot upward, and she stood still.

Behind him, he heard more of his team stomping up the hill. He should have turned and walked away. Should have let Reaper handle getting her packed up and off the mountain. Away from him.

Instead, anger vibrated through him. He glanced at the gear strewn around her feet. “Who the hell comes out to the wilderness without a goddamn gun?”

“The only shots I plan to take are with my camera,” she said icily, lifting her chin.

He ground his teeth as his face heated.

“Wish I’d been shooting video though,” she said. “The footage would’ve gone viral. Do you chase bears often?”

He narrowed his gaze, not liking her smartass tone. Did she know how close he was to exploding? Men he’d fought with knew better than to talk to him when he was like this.

A throat cleared beside him. “Ma’am, you need to pack up,” Reaper said, his voice even.

Her hazel gaze darted from Animal to the man standing beside him. “Why? She’s gone.”

“The bear’s the least of what you have to worry about out here.”

She seemed to finally take in the fact that she was surrounded by five well-armed strangers. “Were you tracking her?”

“We don’t hunt bear,” Reaper said, his voice lowering.

Animal felt a little of his steam begin to cool hearing Reaper’s clipped delivery. Someone else here got the fact she had no business out here. Alone.

“Well, I thank you for your advice, but I have no intention of packing up and leaving. It took me three days to get here. I’ll be setting up camp.” She bent and swiped at the straps of her backpack then reached inside it. She pulled out a small 9mm Colt Defender but had the good sense to point it away from the group. “I’m not unarmed.”

Animal grunted. “Think that would have stopped her? If you didn’t hit her in the head, you’d just piss her off.”

“Well, that’s not your worry, is it?” Again, she lifted her chin.

Damn, if his body didn’t go hard. The way she locked her gaze with his, she didn’t show any fear. Foolish was what she was. He could get around her gun and have her on the ground in the time it took her to realize he’d even moved.

“This is no place for a woman on her own, not today,” Reaper said.

Her back stiffened. Her cheeks paled just a bit.

“We’re not what you should fear,” Carly said quickly, stepping past Animal and Reaper. “It’s gonna take a few minutes for these two get over the adrenaline rush to explain. I’m Carly,” she said, reaching out her hand.

The woman passed the gun from her right to her left and shook Carly’s hand. “Carly, it’s nice to meet you.” She didn’t smile, and her gaze kept scanning the rest of them, like she expected them to make a move against her.

Animal drew a deep breath. He knew what she saw. He wasn’t into scaring women. Happened naturally, often enough. He set his hands on his hips and glanced at the ground while he waited for the tension in his body to ease.

“We’re bounty hunters,” Carly said. “We’ve been tracking a dangerous felon. He’s in this area. It’s not safe for you to be here.”

As Animal glanced up again, the woman’s frown deepened. “I’ve been here a day. Haven’t seen anyone but you. How do I even know you’re telling me the truth?”

Carly glanced back at Reaper. “Show her the warrant.”

Reaper reached into his pack and pulled out the folder. He passed it to the woman.

She held the folder in the crook of the arm and thumbed through the documents. “Okay, so I believe you’re what you say. But since you’re on his trail and he’s not here, why do I have to leave? Obviously, he’s already passed my location.”

“Because there are going to be more teams out here, combing the area. We’ve got the jump on everyone else. When other teams arrive, our skip might double back to evade them. No place in this wilderness is safe.”

Her lips thinned then twisted. Her gaze went back to Animal. “Dammit, I just got here.”

Animal stepped forward, using his body to intimidate her. Yeah, he felt no shame doing that. Not when scaring her into making the right choice could keep her safe. “You’re not safe on your own. Pack up.”

Damned if the woman’s mouth didn’t twitch like she wanted to laugh.

He glared.

She arched a brow. “You’re right. It’s not safe to be alone out here.”

Her expression gave him no ease. He narrowed his eyes until they were slits as he waited for what else she intended to say, because there was no way in hell she was giving up so easily.

She gave a little shrug and grinned. “I’ll go with you.”