Wednesday, October 30, 2019

GIRL GONE HOME!



Don't miss the $50 Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of this post!


Girl Gone Home
Twisted Crime Book 3
by
Kathleen O' Donnell

Genre: Psychological Thriller 


The Best Book I've Read This Year! I just finished it and I loved it! 
It has more twists and turns than a roller coaster. 
This book would make an amazing movie, but
the book will always be better. I can't wait to see what she writes
next! – Rena, five-star review on Amazon.


From two-time Book of the Year finalist and Thriller of the Year Award
winner Kathleen O’Donnell comes a gripping psychological thriller
filled with quirky, unexpected twists.

A girl in serious trouble

Delilah Diamond had it all, the popular cooking show, a dream house, and a
great romance with her producer, until the producer’s wife gets
wind of it all. Delilah loses her show, her job, and her house. She’s
forced to go back to her hometown where everyone has skeletons in
their closet—or worse.

A home not like any other

She arrives just in time for the unfortunate death of her high school
crush, but senses something's wrong with the story of his demise.
Before she realizes it, she's knee-deep in a past that almost crushed
her years before, and could very well crush her now, for good.

A mother who keeps sordid secrets

Local law enforcement is a homegrown drunk, and useless, so someone higher
up the food chain sends a big city detective who starts sniffing
around her classmate's suspicious death and her mother’s past.
Delilah’s protective hackles are raised. She knows her mother has
shameful secrets, but the more she learns, the more she realizes she
doesn’t know the whole story.

A hometown that comes together, even in crime

In small towns, you protect your family and your neighbors come what
may, but will Delilah be able to protect her mother without exposing
her own sins? The ones she worked so hard to cover up? Will she be
able to deter the detective away from the truth?

You can't go home again. Or can you? Should you? How safe is home when
you know where the bodies are buried?

Girl Gone Home is ultimately a story about love, family, loyalty and circling the
wagons no matter what terrible crime's been committed. It’s quirky,
heartfelt, and reminiscent of Dolores Claiborne and the works of Kate
Atkinson, Jane Hamilton, and Janet Evanovich.




“Willy Wally came to a bad end,” Fran said. “Just like I predicted.”

“Only you’d gloat over the dead at a funeral.” I’d just walked in, looked at my watch. My mother irritated me in less than sixty seconds. A record.

“We don’t do funerals, Delilah. The stiff puts a real damper on the festivities.”

“Right. Memorials after the fact only.”

“Who even knows where the nearest funeral home is?” Fran said, unimpeded by the Marlboro in her mouth, long ash miraculously still intact. “Okay, I know where it is, but who gives a highfalutin crap? Potluck and booze give whoever croaked a fine send off—this is a bar for Chrissake. You’re back on the Highway. Better forget those fancy city ways.”

From my spot bellied up to the bar I watched the sea of cowboy hats attached to heads full of rampage and Coors from the tap. They went whole hog at these things. The only commercial enterprise for as far as the crow flies, Vi’s Place teemed with quasi-mourners spilling through both front and back doors to the overflow outside. The middle of nowhere meant good business for anyone with stuff to sell.

“No idea why I let you drag me to this thing,” I said. “I’m still knee-deep in unpacked boxes.”

“Still? You move in geologic time. It’s the food. That’s why you came. You’ve always been a sucker for the highway potlucks. Besides, won’t kill you to show some respect for a guy you went to school with. Dead just like that.” She’d have snapped her fingers if they weren’t already occupied with the whole cigarette/ashtray/coffee cup situation.

“Nothing says respect like eating beanie-weenies while drunks heckle the bereaved,” I said. “Good times.”

“Good turnout.”

“I should hope so. Willy Wally wasn’t even forty.” I stopped when I noticed Fran paid a lot of attention to my words. “Never mind.”

She flicked her ash into the ashtray. “Doc Bates won’t show. Accident or no, tough to look your daughter in the eye after you shoot her husband.”

“Isn’t Doc in jail?”

“You know he’s not. Investigation’s still on. Doubt it’ll turn up anything criminal. Shit happens out here.”

“Like there’s gonna be a real investigation.” I rearranged my butt on the hard stool, scooted it closer to hear Fran over the hootin’-and-a-hollerin’. “Unbelievable. What a fiasco. Whole thing’s terrible.”

“What do you care? You didn’t even want to come.”

“I don’t and I didn’t. Well, that’s not altogether true. Of course, I care. It’s sad isn’t it? A young man killed?”

“Culling out the herd. You see Wally’s widow, Wanda? Jesus, Mary and Joseph try to say that three times fast.”

“I don’t know. Probably wouldn’t know her if I did.”

Fran slipped her cigarette into the slot on the ashtray on the bar. “You’d know her all right—still two-bagger ugly. Wanda and Willy Wally Watkins. Why on earth poor Willy Wally didn’t strangle himself with his own umbilical cord, I’ll never know, with that dumbass name.”

Nothing sordid happened that Fran didn’t know about in great detail. Whatever the backstory, and there was always a backstory, she knew it and loved to tell me about the whole mess. I got zippo this time. Fishy.

“What do you know about this, Fran? You know something. I can tell.”

“You obviously can’t, since I know zilch, other than Willy Wally and Doc went hunting like always. Doc accidentally shot him. Makes sense to me. Willy Wally’s schnoz made him look like a moose or some such.”

“You’re talking a mile a minute. Like you do when you’re dancing around the truth.”

“Shit happens around here.”

“I’m aware. Fran, you—”

“Dee, aren’t you a sight.” Vi amputated my interrogation with a voice that sounded like someone dragged a cheese grater over her vocal cords. Her familiar shortening of my name gave me a warm fuzzy. “Been trying to get over to this end to say hey, but this crowd, no patience.”

“Not much changes on the Fifty-Three,” I said.

Including Vi who still looked like a jack-o-lantern left too long on the porch.

“If it did, I’d know it. Been behind this bar fifty years if you can believe that. But look at you. You’re fresh as peach pie. Damn shame your TV show got cancelled,” Vi said.

“Yeah, well thanks. TV shows come and go.”

“She can still cook like the dickens though. What with that cooking class.”

“Cordon Bleu is hardly a cooking class, Fran. I—”

“Now you’re back home where you belong.” Vi wiped down the bar with a snake-tattooed hand, pulled a frothy topped beer. “Where in Jesus’s name are those good-for-nothin’ bums I hired to help me out today? Goddamn-lazy-bastard-shit-for-brains . . . ” She carried the mug to the other end, insults trailing.

“Is she wearing the necklace I gave you for your birthday?” I said.

Fran brushed crumbs off the front of her “Smooth Move Ex-Lax” t-shirt.

“Oh, that little bauble? Well, yes. Vi went on and on about how much she wanted it. I didn’t—”

“Do you know how much that little bauble cost?” Fran gave zero fucks about the cost.
“Never mind.” I put a sock in it.

“Lord a mercy, Delilah.” Margene Cox made a beeline, heaped plate in hand. “I liked to fell out when I heard you’d come home. Wondered when we’d finally lay eyes on you.”

“Only been back a couple weeks,” I said. “Still settling in.”

Margene draped the silk sweater around her shoulders that I’d bought Fran last Christmas.

“Nice sweater,” I said.

The sharp stab of Fran’s elbow to my ribs shut my mouth.

“Fran give it to me. She’s generous as always. Only fits if I don’t wear it. So hot out here the devil up and left, but still cools down like the dickens at night.” Margene stuffed a whole jalapeno popper into her mouth. I felt mildly surprised most of her teeth looked intact. “You out at the old Winston pig farm?”

“Mm hmm. No pigs anymore.”

“You missed Jefferson Davis.” Margene licked her greasy fingers. “Dadgum it. He’s dyin’ to bend your ear about that farm.”

“My loss.”

“You know Willy Wally passing the way he did near tore my heart in two.” Margene wiped a nonexistent tear. “You dated him didn’t you, Dee?”

“Mercy no,” Fran said.

“Well, I swanee,” Margene said. “Dee nursed a crush on Willy Wally ya’ll could see from space back in the day.”

“Emily dated Willy Wally,” Fran said.

For once I didn’t mind Fran’s poking in.

“Oh, right. Emily. Land’s sake.” Margene pushed her plastic fork through the turkey tetrazzini on her paper plate.

“Where’s Arthur?” I looked around for Margene’s husband.

“Oh, honey, had his memorial right here a couple years back.”

“Lots of memorials the last few years,” Fran said. “I told you about Arthur’s.”
She probably did but I hadn’t been listening.

“Not the same without Blanche and Edith, is it?” Margene squeezed in closer, set her plate on the bar. “Blanche dyin’ of the cirrhosis after Earl died in that car wreck, drunk. Too many memories. And Edith with the Alzheimer’s over to her sister’s in Portland.”

Before she could run on any more, Willy Wally’s father hushed the gathered to thank everyone for coming. I wandered away from my lunch, Fran, and Margene’s census update. A drunk blocking the exit got a free swat from me. Heat plus the pissy sour outhouse smells slapped me hard. Came as no revelation Vi still resisted indoor plumbing.

“You look just like you do on TV,” a man said two seconds after I got out.

“Huh?”

The sun glittering off the rows of cars lined up on both sides of the highway made me squinty. I got closer. Strange man held out a too elegant hand, flashed a badge with the other.

“I’m Billy Dale,” he said. “You’re Delilah Diamond from Fork in the Road. Am I right?”

“Billy Dale what?” Name like that usually preceded a Jim Bob or Buck Dee.

“Just Billy Dale.”

“You’re not from around here then,” I said.

“Nope.” He withdrew his unshaken hand.

Billy Dale’s kick-my-ass-why-don’t-you ensemble cheered me somewhat. His slicked-backed hair, GQ chin stubble, casual Friday Brooks Brothers khakis and pink polo made me want to open the bar door, throw him in to see how he fared. The small crowd milling around outside to avoid the teary farewells inside dispersed as if they smelled an unfamiliar no good cop. Nothing like stranger danger to speed folks along their way. Billy Dale peered over the top of his sunglasses, looked past me at the open vista, dirt, and sagebrush.

“Jesus,” he said. “You could seriously get off the grid out here.”

“What do you want?”

“Just making inquiries about the shooting incident.”

“At a memorial? Willy Wally’s barely cold.”

“When I drove up didn’t realize this, whatever this is, was going on.” He gestured toward the food covered picnic tables.

I kicked up a puff of dirt with the toe of my Converse, shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

Billy Dale studied the fly-infested open jar of mayo on a nearby table, waiting, silent, doing that let-them-talk-to-see-what-spills cop thing. He flicked an imaginary something off his shirtsleeve. His blank face and open-too-wide eyes gave him a real dimwitted appearance—the kind of guy who moved his lips when he read.

“Where’s Rusty?” I said. “He’s been the law out here forever.”

“On a bender probably.”

“No doubt.”

“Mind if I do some asking now?” he said.

I let that hang like a corpse from a noose.

“You know,” I finally said after the silence got too awkward even for me. “I just came back here. Moved away eons ago.”

“So I heard.” Billy Dale leaned against a clean sedan that must’ve been his. “Some say they’re surprised to see you back.”

“None more than me.”

“You came back for the—this—potluck thingy?”

“No. Coincidence.”

“Coincidences give me cramps,” Billy Dale said serious as all get out.
Like I cared about his bowels.
“Willy Wally your old high school boyfriend?” He went on.

“Christ, no. He dated my friend. Emily. She—”

“You all right?” Billy Dale said.

I’d swayed to one side. The beer I’d chased lunch with gurgled its way up the back of my throat. I beat it back, steadied myself.

“I’m fine. This heat, outhouse smell, I’m not used to it anymore.” I pulled away from the hand he’d gripped my arm with, snooty-like. He probably did it to help, but too bad so sad.

“Right. Well, Jefferson Davis told me you—”

“Oh you’re already on a first name basis? Jefferson Davis and I haven’t so much as cast shadows near each other in twenty years.” Droplets popped up above my top lip.

“Right. Well, speaking of names. You call your mother by her first name?”

“Always have,” I said halfway lying. “Fran is her name.”
I’d replaced Mom with Fran when we moved to the highway, when she went full wacko, to distance myself from her in the only way I could then, to get under her skin. Joke was on me since her skin proved unyielding, but it stuck.

“Fran knows Doctor Bates well?” Billy Dale said.

“Everybody here knows everyone else well.”

“Willy Wally too?”

“Yes, but they didn’t exactly run in the same circles since Fran’s old enough to be his mother.”
We stared each other down. I wondered if he could see me sweat.

He blinked first. “Can you think of any reason Fran would’ve called Willy Wally the day before he got shot and the day of?”

“Who knows? It is a small town,” I said. “Why don’t you ask Fran?”

“Did. Said she doesn’t recall.”

“She’s no spring chicken. Memory’s going.” I twirled one finger near my ear.

“Fran called Willy Wally four times the day before he died, twice the next.”

“She’s a talker,” I said.
There it was.
Fran did know more than she’d admitted. I crossed my arms over my chest, shoved both hands under my dripping armpits, worked hard to keep my face from going funky.

“Not to mention six calls to Doctor Bates.” He’d taken out a notepad, which I guess meant business.

“I’m sure for harmless reasons.”
I turned on my heel. Eat my dust sucker.

Billy Dale hollered at my back, “I’m sure I’ll find out.”




Kathleen O'Donnell, Author


Kathleen O’Donnell is a wife, mom, grandmother and a recovering blogger.
She currently lives in Nevada with her husband. She is a two time
Book of the Year finalist for her debut novel The Last Day for Rob
Rhino
. You can find short stories and blog posts on her website.



Follow the tour HERE
for special excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!



Monday, October 28, 2019

ONCE UPON A CHRISTMAS PAST

Once Upon a Christmas Past
A Historical Romance Holiday Collection
with stories by:
Regan Walker, Paula Quinn, Catherine Kean & Brenda Jernigan
Christmas in Scotland or Christmas in England – it is the best time of the year.
NY Times & USA Today & Bestselling Authors present – Once Upon
a Christmas Past – 4 full books of Christmas and Love.

A Secret Scottish Christmas by Regan Walker
Spies, Scots, and Shipmasters celebrate a very secret Christmas in Scotland
as identical twins, Robbie and Nash Powell, spies for the Crown,
compete for the love of the daughter of an Aberdeen shipbuilder.


A Highlander for Christmas by Paula Quinn
As the bard of the MacGregor clan, Finlay Grant is a natural-born
charmer. He can easily win the heart of any lass . . . but somehow,
the right words to express his love for stunning Leslie Harrison have
eluded him. Yet as Christmastide approaches, Finn knows he must find
a way to propose to the raven-haired beauty who has stolen his heart.


A Knight’s Redemption by Catherine Kean
Six Christmases ago, after refusing his kiss, Lady Mary Westbrook was
locked in the dungeon by Lord Holden Kendall, a squire at Branton
Keep. When an attempted child abduction days before Christmas brings
Holden back to the castle, Mary must confront again what happened between them.
Holden is a grown warrior now, and he resolves to not only make matters
right with Mary but finally win her kiss. Yet, as peril ensues, Mary
must risk far more than a chance at true love.

Christmas in Camelot by Brenda Jernigan
Sir Nicholas the Dragon’s orders are clear. He is to fend off the enemy
besieging Noelle’s castle and bring the lady safely back to Camelot
for her wedding day to Sir Gavin. But spending time with the proud
beauty awakens an irresistible hunger in Nicholas. Now, as desire
does battle with duty, Nicholas has only two choices — to surrender
the woman he loves to another man or fight to the end to make her his
own.
**Only .99 cents!!**
Regan Walker is an award-winning, #1 Amazon bestselling author of Regency, Georgian and Medieval romances. She writes historically authentic novels with real historical figures along with her fictional characters. Among the awards she has won are the International Book Award for Romance Fiction, the San Diego Book Award for Best Historical Romance, the RONE Award for her medievals and the Gold Medal Illumination Award.

Paula Quinn is a NY Times and USA Today
bestselling author of medieval, Scottish historical, and paranormal romance. To date, four of her books have garnered a starred review from Publishers Weekly. She has been nominated for Storyteller of the year by RT Book Reviews and every one of her books from the Children of the Mist series have garnered Top Picks from RT Book Reviews. She also writes fantasy romance under the pen name of Genevra Thorne.
Check out her newest series, Hearts of the Highlands on Amazon now!
Catherine Kean is an award-winning, Kindle Unlimited All-Star author of medieval romances whose creative muse has coaxed her to also write in other romance genres. She wrote her first medieval romance, A Knight’s Vengeance, while her baby daughter was napping, and now has a backlist of over 20 published books. Catherine’s novels were originally published in paperback and several were released in Czech, German, and Thai foreign editions. She’s won numerous awards for her stories, including the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence. Her novels also finaled in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards, the National Readers’ Choice Awards, and the International Digital Awards. In 2019, she co-founded CPC Publishing with author Wynter Daniels and is busy writing books for the Cat’s Paw Cove Romance series. When not working on her next book, Catherine enjoys cooking, baking, browsing antique shops, shopping with her daughter, and gardening. She lives in Central Florida with two spoiled rescue cats
Brenda Jernigan is a bestselling author. Her books have been nominated for many awards - Book Seller’s Best Award, The Maggie Award, and The Holt Medallion Award. Publisher’s Weekly said, “Brenda Jernigan writes Romance, Adventure and Magic.
She grew up living the life of a tomboy – climbing trees, playing ball, and excluding starry-eyed romance from her daily repertoire. Brenda discovered the love of books while taking her son to Story Hour at the local library -- she was hooked. She set an ambitious goal and began work on her first novel. She continued to write six more novels in rapid succession. She figured having the same birthday as Ernest Hemingway couldn’t hurt.
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Saturday, October 26, 2019

CHRISTMAS AT MISTLETOE LODGE



Christmas at Mistletoe Lodge
New Holiday Romances to Benefit St. Jude's Hospital
with stories by
Sabrina York, Tamara Ferguson, Jen Talty, Natalie Ann, Pam Binder,
Tammy L. Grace, Jacki Delecki, Joanne Jaytanie, Lauren Gayle 

10 NEW HOLIDAY ROMANCES From NY Times, USA Today, & Award-Winning
Romance Authors, To Warm Your Heart And Curl Your Toes!

Each Sweet and/or Steamy Story takes place at a unique magical Mistletoe
Lodge. Curl up in your favorite chair and treat yourself to a
Christmassy-Happily-Ever-After full of jingle bells, mistletoe and
JOY, celebrating the spirit of the season.


Get Your Copy Now While It’s Still On Sale!


Sabrina York – Cooped Up For Christmas
It was supposed to be an easy gig—working as a concierge at a luxury
lodge for the super rich over Christmas—but then he had to show up.
The boy who broke my heart all those years ago. But former Navy SEAL
Cameron Cooper isn't exactly a boy anymore.


Tamara Ferguson – A Kiss Under A Blue Christmas Moon

Blue Moon’s band leader, Noah’s been crazy about Mia since the moment
they met at a magical beach concert, but Mia’s father sabotages
their romance before Noah goes to war. Six years after escaping her
controlling father, Mia’s returned to Crystal Rock to find
Lieutenant Noah Erikson’s never stopped loving her.


Jen Talty – Alaskan Christmas

Flynn Wagner sets off to the frozen tundra and the Mistletoe Lodge,
prepared for endless stories about her mother. However, nothing can
prepare her for coming face to face with the one man she couldn’t
get out from under her skin. At the lodge, Colton Granger never
expected to find the woman who had changed his life forever in
high-heeled boots, a winter coat that wouldn’t keep a person warm,
and a killer smile that would soon melt his heart.


Natalie Ann – Christmas Love

Former model, Noelle Bennett has decided she wants to be behind the camera
instead of in front of it. Just her and the woods around her little
home, snapping pictures of the winter landscape and historic Inns.
Then how did sexy veterinarian Dr. Chase Martin talk her into
adopting a puppy and wondering if the peaceful life wasn't what she
wanted all along?

Pam Binder – Christmas Makeover

Mistaken as a wedding and events planner, the out-of-work dog walker, is hired
to transform a rundown inn into a Medieval themed-wedding
destination. But the owner’s handsome son, Owen, has other plans for the Inn.


Tammy L. Grace – Christmas in Snow Valley

Fifteen years ago, he broke her heart. She never moved on. Will a little
Christmas magic bring them back together?


Jacki Delecki – Mission: Impossible to Wed

A wedding designer and a Special Ops soldier are thrown together for a
country wedding that has them both thinking they’ll never get married.


Joanne Jaytanie – Christmas Chemistry

It's nothing but an old tavern. But to the Jamersons and Brocks, it's a
treasured history, a precious legacy. Can Gina Jamerson and Owen
Brock meet in the middle or will their families ruin any chance of compromise?


Kim Hornsby – The Christmas Challenge

A hermit blogger attends a destination wedding as part of a Christmas
challenge and meets someone who gets her heart racing again only to
discover he has a game-changing secret—about her.


Lauren Gayle – A Southern Lights Christmas

When a rare winter storm covers their Christmas getaway with bone-chilling
snow and ice, two strangers are challenged with the reality of winter
in a southern town.

***Only 99 cents!!***



Christmas at Mistletoe Lodge Cookbook:

Recipes From Bestselling Romance Authors 

FUDGE CAKE, MAC & CHEESE, TURKEY WITH CRANBERRY & 
BACON WRAPPED MEATBALLS! 

Treat yourself and your family to amazing holiday treats this Christmas!

A group of NY Times, USA Today & Bestselling Authors from the 10
Book Box Set - Christmas at Mistletoe Lodge - have compiled 50
favorite recipes to pass along to you, their readers!


Make some cookies, then sit back to read Christmas at Mistletoe Lodge only
.99 cents at this ebook etailier-- a 10 book set of sweet to steamy
holiday romances guaranteed to get you into the Christmas spirit!


Easy Delicious Turkey, Cranberry Sauce, Scalloped Potatoes, gooey Mac &
Cheese, Vichy Carrots, Seafood Chowder, Wild Rice Stuffing,
Meatballs, Crab Dip, Beef Skewers, Bean & Beef Dip, Chicken
Poppers, Potatoes O'Brien, Popcorn, Praline Bacon, Pumpkin
Cheesecake, Toffee, Thumbprints, Macaroons, Divinity, Tarts,
Shortbread, Fudge Sauce, Creme Anglaise, Fudge Cake and More!

Bonus Crafts - Napkin rings, Wreaths, Stockings and More. We have it all
for you inside these pages!

**Get it FREE!!**


**scroll through the slideshow to find out more about the authors!!**





Follow the tour HERE
for special content and a giveaway!



Friday, October 25, 2019

HOPE -- BY SEELIE KAY


HOPE 
by 
Seelie Kay
Release Date: September 27, 2019
Publisher: Extasy Books
Romantic Suspense, Contemporary Romance, four flames


An Interview with Seelie Kay:

Q.  Why do you write romance?


Q.  Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?

I adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge. They can be a bad boy, a billionaire, a prince, or a secret agent. That hint of danger just hooks me! However, I also love strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.

Q.  Why did you write “Hope?”

Hope Ali has been a minor character in past books and has made no secret of her desire to join the Agency. She had to grow up first. Now she has and it’s time for her story. She enabled me to tackle two issues: The number of people who are “disappeared” for opposing governments and leaders, and post traumatic stress disorder. In this book, Hope helps rescue a writer in the UAE who has been put under house arrest for authoring a book exposing the ties of the ruling families to gunrunning and terrorism. Unfortunately, Hope gets attacked and is broken, mentally and physically. This very vital, strong woman must find her way back from that traumatic event and the path is not easy. It is a story of courage and survival.

Q.   How does your former profession as a lawyer impact your writing?

My friends say I am obsessed with justice and I guess that’s true. After 30 years, the law and the legal world are so firmly embedded in my brain that I can’t flush them out. That has become the lens through which I view the world and that naturally guides my characters and plots. Injustice infuriates me, but it also leads me to great stories!



At only age twenty-two, she’s the best Probie the Agency has ever had—until her past catches up with her, leaving her devastated and broken. Without hope.


No one knows what they’re made of until they’re broken. At the tender age of twenty-two, Hope Ali has finally joined the organization of her dreams, the Agency, an elite group of attorneys who go undercover to right wrongs the law can’t. The requirements are stringent, the training exhausting.

After seeking asylum in the United States when she was sixteen, Hope and her father, Sheikh Harun Ali, settled in a quiet Wisconsin town, hiding from those who had placed a price on their heads. Still, she excelled, finishing her university and law school education by the time she was twenty-one.

Now, after breezing through the Agency training program, Hope appears to be indestructible—until she is assigned a simple task during the rescue of an author among the disappeared in the UAE. The task? To distract the woman’s captors until she can be spirited out of the country.

Unfortunately, a member of MISix has other plans. In an attempt to disrupt the Agency’s mission, she tips off one of Hope’s enemies, alerting them to her location. Hope manages to lead the author’s captors on a merry dance, freeing others to rescue her, until she is unexpectedly confronted with a violent angry mob intent on harm.

She is left bloody and broken. No one knows whether Hope’s body or her mind will heal. Suddenly Hope is no longer just her name. It is also the one thing she must embrace to find her new normal.




Dianna smiled. “This is your new obstacle course. It’s called The Ballbuster. Obviously, the other one wasn’t challenging enough for you, so I thought we’d try something else.” She smirked. 

“What’s the matter, not up to it, Probie?”

Hope scowled. “I thought you were my friend.”

“When you’re on Agency grounds, I’m your trainer and mentor first. You know that, Hope. My job is to make sure that when in the field, you can overcome every obstacle. Failure isn’t an option. Failure could mean death.”

Hope snapped, “Don’t you think I know that? God, everyone seems duty-bound to remind me of that every damn day. I’m not a child. I know my limits. I know my weaknesses. You don’t have to bludgeon me over the head with a cudgel.”

Dianna’s expression hardened. “Here’s the thing, Hope. The second you begin to believe that you can overcome every obstacle put in front of you is the day you should quit. Confidence is one thing. Feeling that you’re omniscient is another. Out in the field, fear is what drives you, and it could very well be what saves you. I don’t need you taking stupid chances because you think you’re Wonder Woman, able to thwart every threat. I need you to calmly assess each situation and rationally weigh the risks. You need to know when to walk away. Just as you need to know when a risk is worth taking. You have no real superpowers, woman. And you need to remember that. That’s why you’re on probation until we’re confident you can survive, Probie.

“This job isn’t about physical skill. It’s about being able to clearly, quickly, and competently analyze the risks. What I see right now is a young woman without fear, willing to take on any roadblock. I need you to recognize your limits and work around them. There is no shame in admitting defeat. And there most definitely is no shame in asking for help. That’s why each obstacle has a kill bell. Hit that and the exercise stops.”

“And then what,” Hope muttered. “I get kicked out?”

“No, then we step in and help. This Agency leaves no man or woman behind, Hope. They proved that to me when I was sent to Bolivia. The minute I sent out the Bat Signal, they began putting together a team to extract me. They saved my life.”


Coming soon to all other major booksellers!






When not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.

Ms. Kay is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!

Author links:


Prior Books: