Release day is finally here and you only had to wait…eight months!

Here’s a taster… and don’t forget the Content Advisory!


The sound of gunfire had Quentin rolling to his feet, reaching for his service weapon and finding nothing but empty space. Shit. The lack of a firearm was suddenly a major problem.

Haley Cramer sat up in bed then jumped to her feet, still gloriously naked. “What’s going on?”

“Not sure yet.”

He was impressed at how alert she was after coming out of a deep sleep, but gunfire did that to a person. His night vision was good, so he didn’t turn on the lights—he could see plenty aided by the glow from the radio alarm—nor did he want to attract attention. They’d only been asleep for a short time.

This night was turning into one surprise after another. But give him sex with a beautiful woman over bullets any time of the day or night.

Quentin raked her figure with a glance, mentally tallying what they needed to do. He strode to the bathroom where his gym kit still hung on the door handle, then went to his luggage and tossed her a pair of socks and his sneakers. They were probably too big but better than going barefoot and certainly better than four-inch heels.

“Put those on.”

She dressed without argument, then sat on the bed and pulled on the socks and shoes he’d given her. Quentin grabbed his cell as he quickly tugged on a pair of boxers and black pants, followed by a dark t-shirt. Found a pair of socks and toed on his black leather shoes.

Automatic weapon fire sounded from the lobby.

This did not sound good.

He put in a quick call to the American ambassador’s number, but the call didn’t connect. No signal. Fuck.

“Could it be some sort of demonstration by one of the security firms?” Haley asked quickly, coming to stand beside him.

If it was, he was going to go downstairs and smash his fist through someone’s face. But the screams told him this was no pantomime.

“Sounds like a terrorist attack. And I don’t have a weapon.” He didn’t try to conceal his frustration. As much as he wanted to help people, he couldn’t go head-to-head with an assault rifle and expect to last more than a few seconds before dying in a hail of bullets.

“Wenck’s bodyguards have weapons,” she added.

Give him a gun, and he stood a chance of saving some lives. Give him several trained people with weapons, and they could take these fuckers down.

Want to read more? Go to the book page “here.”

Facebook Comments

error: Content is protected!