Former Delta Force Officer and New York Times bestselling author Brad Taylor delivers a heart-pounding thriller where Pike Logan's search for a Mossad agent and ally puts him on a collision course with a ruthless military coup in Africa—and tests his loyalties to the Taskforce.It was to be a simple mission. Nothing more than assessing whether a merchant in the fabled Israeli Diamond Exchange was involved in a scheme that could potentially embarrass the state of Israel. But nothing is ever simple in the world of intelligence, as Aaron Bergman—a former leader of an elite direct action team under the Mossad—should have known. Executing the operation as a contractor, a cutout that gave the State of Israel plausible deniability, he disappears without a trace.Pike Logan and his team know none of this, but he's tracking an American arms dealer in Tel Aviv who may—or may not—be attempting to sell sensitive nuclear weapons components to... Views: 59
A would-be politician is found battered to death in the kitchen of his expensive home in a lovely Oxfordshire village. His wife's alibi is full of holes and there's another woman in the background. And what about his seemingly mild-mannered political rival? DI Hillary Greene tries to get to the bottom of this perplexing murder. She certainly doesn't think the prime suspect is as guilty as everyone thinks. Just as she's about to make a breakthrough, everything is turned upside down by a fatal development in another case she is working on . . . Can Hillary find the murderer and will she survive a brush with one of Oxford's most dangerous criminals?
** Views: 59
Mistaken for a secret agent, a hapless lawyer scrambles to stay aliveAn arms dealer in Copenhagen dies after sipping a poisoned martini. An American diplomat in Lisbon is shot in the back of the head. A Frenchman survives being pushed in front of a train, only to be murdered in his hospital bed. Though seemingly unconnected, these events are part of an international conspiracy that could spell death for Roger Carr.Carr is a lawyer, but he has no love for Lady Justice. A dilettante playboy sent to France on a cushy assignment, he lands himself right in the middle of an international arms deal. Both sides of the conflict have mistaken him for an agent, and the secret service interventions of a dozen countries will do anything to secure him—dead or alive.This ebook features an illustrated biography of Michael Crichton including rare images from the author's estate. Views: 59
From the Multiple National Award-winning Author of Nearly Departed in Deadwood! "What a voice! Hilarious, original, and genuinely wonderful. This fresh and feisty mystery will instantly win your heart. Loved it!" ~HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN, Anthony, Agatha and Macavity winning author"Ann Charles writes a top-notch mystery that is fast-paced, complex, and laugh out loud funny! A genuinely exciting and sexually suspenseful mystery, Charles delivers in her second Violet Parker novel set in Deadwood, South Dakota. Fast-moving with twists even a seasoned Mystery Reader won't see coming, this is a can't-put-it-down book." ~MARY BUCKHAM, award-winning Romantic Suspense author "A smart, sassy, sexy and wonderfully resourceful heroine. Move over Stephanie Plum--Vi Parker is here!" ~JOHN KLAWITTER, award-winning Tinseltown writer/director, and author of the award-winning Hollywood Havoc action thriller novels You'll laugh. You'll cringe. You'll want even more!Someone is spreading rumors around Deadwood that Violet Parker likes to chat with dead folks. With her reputation endangered, her bank account on the verge of extinction, and her career at risk of going up in flames, Violet is desperate. When the opportunity to sell another vintage home materializes, she grabs it, even though this "haunted" house was recently the stage for a two-act, murder-suicide tragedy. Ghost or no ghost, Violet knows this can't be as bad as the last house of horrors she tried to sell, but sexy Doc Nyce has serious doubts. Her only hope of hanging on to her job is to prove that the so-called, ghostly sightings are merely the eccentric owner's optical delusions. But someone--or something--in the house wants Violet stopped...dead."... sexy, spunky Violet Parker will blow you away." ~LUCY BURDETTE, author & Sisters in Crime past-president "... mystery, humor, romance, and fun all wrapped up in a great book." ~BOOKS R US REVIEWSOptical Delusions in Deadwood Cover Design by Mona Weiss (facebook.com/monaweissfans); Cover Art by C.S. Kunkle (cskunkle.com)Want more mystery, laughs, and suspense? Check out Ann Charles' newest ebook, DANCE OF THE WINNEBAGOS, available now! This is the first book in her new Jackrabbit Junction Mystery series, starring Claire Morgan, Violet Parker's childhood friend from Rapid City, South Dakota.Review"... mystery, humor, romance, and fun all wrapped up in a great book." ~BooksRUs Reviews"Another fun read that left me smiling. Bravo, Ann Charles for your wit and humor. Your masterful storytelling makes this a gem to read." ~Earth's Book Nook Reviews From the AuthorDear Reader,I have an itchy case of gold fever. I came down with it decades ago when I first traveled through the Deadwood area. I'm not talking about a hunger for shiny treasures, rather a need to know all about the people and places from which the shiny pieces are unearthed.When it comes to the Black Hills, one town reaches out to scratch my gold-fever itch--the city of Lead (pronounced Leed). While Deadwood was busy leaving its mark on the history books with tales of Wild Bill Hickok and Seth Bullock, Lead was busy staking its claim on the land. The Open Cut mine in the middle of Lead brings its industrious past front and center.The Open Cut has always fascinated me. I have studied "before" and "after" pictures, read all about its creation (at the Black Hills Mining Museum), and stared at the geological timeline in its walls through the Homestake Visitor Center's chain-link fence. Why am I so fascinated with a big hole in the ground? Because it reveals a history full of hard work, spent lives, and change. It intrigues me how people adapt to these changes.Over the years, I've met several Homestake miners. I've listened to their stories of what it was like to work deep inside the Earth. At the butcher in King's Grocery, I stood in line with their wives and kids. These days, Homestake is no longer an operating gold mine; most of the drifts and shafts below the town are filled with water rather than men. But Lead's industrious spirit is still alive, its down-to-earth hardiness still apparent. I'd always planned to incorporate Lead into the Deadwood Mystery series. The two towns are like sisters, each enchanting with separate but entangled histories. Before I began writing this second book, I cruised the back streets of Lead, along Sunnyhill Road, from East Summit Street to West, and down Gold Street, searching to see how life off the main drag had changed since Homestake stopped digging for gold. I took my kids to the little park on Miners Avenue and the big park next to the Open Cut. I climbed the steep hill on Mill Street, retracing the going-to-work route of many miners. I located the exact piece of land next to the Open Cut where I'd place the house that would play center stage in the story--the Carhart house.I hope you get a kick out of reading Optical Delusions in Deadwood. While I enjoyed introducing Violet and her friends in the first book of the series, Nearly Departed in Deadwood, this second book allowed me to shed light on the kaleidoscope of colorful characters and historical settings. Most of you reading this have already dipped a toe into Violet's world. Thank you for returning for more Deadwood fun. Grab your boots, because the water is getting deeper. Welcome back to Deadwood ... and Lead.Ann CharlesAward-winning author of the Deadwood Mystery Seriesanncharles.com/deadwood Views: 59
Claire Weatherly found the simple life she always wanted when she opened a gift shop in Heavenly, Pennsylvania—a small town in the heart of Amish country. But when murder disrupts her Heavenly home, it's up to Claire and Detective Jakob Fisher to find the not-so-simple truth. The quiet town of Heavenly is buzzing with excitement over the latest guests at the local inn, Sleep Heavenly. Toy manufacturer Rob Karble is in town to meet the members of the Amish community who will soon be crafting a new toy line for his company. But when word gets out that Karble intends to use the Amish designs without employing the Amish to make them, someone sends the interloper to his final reward. No one wants to believe anyone from the Amish community could commit such an act, but as Claire and Detective Fisher have learned, no one is above sin—or suspicion. Views: 59
With heart-stopping thrills, a Walter White–esque villain, and a fascinating hero, Alex Gilly's Devil's Harbor is a thriller unlike any you have read beforeNick Finn and his partner and brother-in-law, Diego Jimenez, are used to rough water. As Marine Interdiction Agents for Customs and Border Protection, the two hunt drug smugglers, human traffickers, and other criminals who hide in the vastness of the waters surrounding southern California. One night, Finn and Diego track a phantom boat off the Los Angeles coast, but it disappears before they can intercept it. They find a dead body in its wake, ravaged by sharks. Their investigation into the floater stalls when Finn is accused of using excessive force following the death of a suspected drug smuggler. Then Diego is murdered—and Finn is the number-one suspect. As he races to find the real killer and save his marriage, Finn is forced to partner with Linda Blake, the desperate captain of the... Views: 59
Who hanged the headmaster in the playground on the night of the school Hallowe’en Party? Almost
everyone in Heppleburn either hated or feared the viper-tongued Harold
Medburn. Inspector Ramsay is convinced it was the headmaster’s enigmatic
wife but Jack Robson, school governor and caretaker, is determined to
prove her innocence. With the help of his restless enthusiastic
daughter, Patty, Jack digs into the secrets of Heppleburn, and uncovers a
cesspit – of lies, adultery, blackmail and madness. Views: 59
Damaged Goods is the fourth book in the Hannibal Jones Mystery series. Anita Cooper was three times a victim. Her father's death crushed her dreams of college and a better life. Then her purity was drowned in powerless anxiety and her gentle fantasies displaced by unspeakable humiliation, all because of a hard man who knew the way of the world. Rod Mantooth stole both her innocence and her father's legacy, a secret that could have rebuilt her life.
Anita was lost until she encountered another hard man who knew the way of the world - the urban paladin and professional troubleshooter named Hannibal Jones. Like a rolling mass of icy fury, Hannibal followed the trail of corrupted human debris that would lead to Rod Mantooth and a final showdown in the icy waters of the Atlantic.
Damaged Goods is the fourth book in the acclaimed Hannibal Jones Detective Series written by Austin S. Camacho. Set in the Washington D.C. area, the series follows the adventures of an Africa American hero straddling the cultural bridges that stress our country while trying to help his clients with problems the police can't or won't solve.
### Review
...a fast-paced, thrilling novel that will keep readers frantically reading to the last page. Leaves readers wanting more. -- *The Romance Reader's Connection, December 2005*
Abuse is never an easy topic to write about, but Camacho manages to do it with integrity. --*Crime and Suspense Magazine, June 2006*
### About the Author
Austin S. Camacho is the author of the Hannibal Jones Detective Series (The Troubleshooter, Blood and Bone, Collateral Damage and Damaged Goods) and the new Stark and OÂ’Brien Adventure series which starts with The Payback Assignment. Active in several writer organizations, he is the 2005-2006 president of the Maryland Writers Association and is a regular speaker at various writerÂ’s and book loversÂ’ conventions. He also currently teaches three writing courses at the Anne Arundel Community College. Camacho was born in New York City but grew up in Saratoga Springs, New York. He majored in psychology at Union College in Schenectady, New York. There he read a number of good books, learned to tell good beer from bad, and became a brother in the Alpha Delpha Phi fraternity. Actually, the frat was largely responsible for the books and the beer. Dwindling finances and escalating costs brought his college days to an end after three years. Then came the factory work, the five years selling insurance, and finally, the Army. He enlisted as a weapons repairman but soon moved into a more appropriate field. The Army trained him to be a broadcast journalist. Disc jockey time alternated with news writing, video camera and editing work public affairs assignments and news anchor duties. During his thirteen years as a soldier, Austin lived in Missouri, California, Maryland, Georgia and Belgium. He also spent a couple of exciting weeks in Israel during Desert Storm, covering the action with the Patriot missile crews and capturing scud showers on video tape. While enlisted he finished his Bachelor's Degree at night and started his Master's, and rose to the rank of Sergeant First Class. And in his spare moments, he began writing adventure and mystery novels set in some of the exotic places he'd visited. After leaving the Army in 1996 he continued writing military news for the Defense Department as a civilian, frequently serving as on air anchor for the American Forces Information Service. Today he does public affairs work for the DOD agency charged with guarding the health of service members when they are deployed. He has settled in northern Virginia with his wife Denise. When he's not writing Austin likes to run along the shores of the Potomac, watch action films, and shoot - at paper targets, not live ones. He is a voracious reader of just about any kind of nonfiction, plus mysteries, adventures and thrillers. Views: 59
"May I have this dance?"Aurelia wasn't hiding exactly. She just needed to get out of the crush of the ballroom—away from the people staring at her scar, pitying her limp. She was still quite enjoying the music from the conservatory. And then a complete stranger—dashing, debonair, kind—asked her to waltz. In the strength of his arms, she felt she could do anything. But both would be leaving London soon...When they meet again a year later, everything has changed. She's no longer a timid mouse. And he's now a titled gentleman—with a fiancée. Is the magic of one stolen moment, one undeniable connection enough to overcome a scandal that would set Society ablaze and tear their families apart?Review"Sympathetic protagonists will keep readers engaged" - Publishers Weekly"Readers will be enchanted" - RT Book Reviews"Sherwood effortlessly evokes the world of Edith Wharton and Henry James, and her exquisite character development, memorable secondary characters, and impeccably researched historical setting infuse this elegantly written debut with a richness and depth worth savoring." - BooklistExcerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.OneShe was a Phantom of delight,When first she gleamed upon my sight...A dancing shape, an image gayTo haunt, to startle, and waylay.-William Wordsworth, "She Was a Phantom of Delight"London, May 1890If social success was measured by the number of guests the hostess could cram into a limited amount of space, then Lady Talbot's ball honoring her daughter's betrothal to Viscount Maitland's heir was an unqualified triumph. James Trelawney wished he could be properly appreciative of such an achievement, instead of counting the minutes until he could make his escape. Another half hour or so before the break for supper-perhaps he could slip away then."I see you made it after all," a familiar voice remarked at his shoulder."Thomas." Despite the crowd hemming them in, James managed to turn his head to smile at his closest friend. "Well, Jess is my cousin, and my aunt can be very persuasive.""So she can. Pity the army doesn't recruit women. Lady Talbot would make a formidable general. Here." Thomas Sheridan held out a brimming champagne flute. "This should help.""Do I look that uncomfortable?" James took a sip of the excellent wine."Like the proverbial fish out of water. Wishing yourself back in Cornwall?""When am I not?" James sipped his champagne again, thinking longingly of the open spaces and crisp, salty air of his home county. "I only come up to London when I must. Frankly, I don't know how you stand it, Thomas. You're an artist, for God's sake!"His friend's eyes glinted. "There's beauty and grace to be found even here, James. Or perhaps I should say especially here."He meant women, of course-being something of a connoisseur. Amused, James surveyed the ladies gracing the ballroom. Most were attractive, he supposed, but there were lovely women to be found in Cornwall too. He was just about to point that out to Thomas when the musicians struck up a waltz. The couples assembled on the floor began to move, the ladies' jewels glittering beneath the radiance of the gas-lit chandelier, their pastel skirts belling out behind them with each whirling turn. He glimpsed his cousin Jessica, all in white, floating rapturously in the arms of her betrothed.A flash of vivid blue among the preponderance of white and pink caught his eye. Idly, his gaze followed the motion of that swirling gown, traveled upward to the wearer's face...He ceased to breathe, as if a fist had driven the air from his lungs. Beauty. Grace. Oh, yes.Eyes as blue as her gown, the color of sunlit summer skies; a creamy complexion blushed with rose; smiling lips of a deeper rose hue; and a glory of spun-gold hair, bright as any coronet."Thomas." His voice sounded husky, even far away. "Thomas, who's that-in blue?"His friend followed the line of his gaze, stilled abruptly. "Ah. La Belle Américaine."An odd note in that cool, cultured voice, like the faintest crack in a bell. James glanced at his friend but saw only Thomas's habitual expression of ironic detachment."Miss Amelia Newbold," Sheridan continued. "Amy, to her closest friends. The latest heiress to cross the Atlantic and lay siege to our damp, foggy island.""An heiress. From America?" That might explain her vivacity; English misses tended to carry themselves more demurely, with downcast eyes and half-smiles reminiscent of La Giaconda. Miss Newbold looked as though she was on the verge of laughter-enchantingly so."New York, to be precise. The father's in shipping, I understand. Miss Newbold arrived in London with her mother and sister about two months ago and proceeded to cut a swathe through our susceptible young-and not so young-aristocrats. I've heard she'll accept nothing less than a peer. They don't lack for ambition, these Americans! And as you see," Thomas nodded toward the waltzing couples, "she already has Kelmswood in her toils."James glanced at Miss Newbold's partner, noticing him for the first time: a tall, athletically built young man whose dark good looks seemed the perfect foil for the American girl's golden beauty. The thought gave him no pleasure whatsoever. "An earl, isn't he? I suppose they're as good as betrothed, then.""I wouldn't bet on that." Thomas's mouth crooked. "Glyndon's entered the lists as well."James's brows rose. "Good God, really?" Viscount Glyndon, Thomas's cousin, was heir to the Duke of Harford. "How do their graces feel about that?""My uncle and aunt are maintaining a well-bred silence on the subject. However, I doubt their plans for my cousin's future include an American bride."Having met the duke and duchess, James was inclined to agree with his friend. Not that it mattered-could matter-to him; the likes of Amelia Newbold were out of his humble star. He made himself look away from her and her handsome, eligible partner. "I think I'll go and get some air. If you'll excuse me?"Thomas relieved him of his now-empty flute. "Of course, old fellow."James threaded his way through the crowd toward the French windows, standing open to the warm spring night. Just as he was about to step onto the terrace, a raucous male laugh assailed his ears. A raucous, all-too-familiar male laugh.Damn, and damn again. Gritting his teeth, James ventured a glance onto the terrace and saw several men leaning against the balustrade in a haze of cigar smoke. In their midst he spotted a familiar blond head, a heavy profile: his cousin Gerald, Viscount Alston.He ought to have expected this; Aunt Judith was the family peacemaker. If she'd invited one of her nephews to attend Jessica's betrothal ball, she would certainly invite the other, despite knowing that he and Gerald met as seldom as possible. They both preferred it that way.Memories stirred, a dark tide with a deadly undertow. James forced them away, turned from the doors. The conservatory-he'd go there instead. Even if other guests had sought refuge in the same place, they could hardly be less congenial company than Gerald and his cronies.But at first glance, the conservatory appeared to be deserted. Moonlight poured in through the glass-paneled walls, bathing the plants and stone benches in an otherworldly glow. Loosening his collar, James inhaled the warm, jasmine-scented air and felt himself relax for the first time that evening.Hands clasped behind him, he strolled along the nearest walkway. Feathery ferns, sinuous vines, potted palms...he could not identify more than a few of the more exotic species, but it scarcely mattered. Here, at last, were peace and tranquility. Then he rounded a corner, came to a halt at the sight of the figure standing in the middle of the conservatory, the moonlight frosting her golden hair and casting a silvery sheen upon the skirts of her blue ball gown. Her eyes were closed, her slim form swaying gently in time to the waltz music drifting in from the ballroom.James wondered if he'd lost his mind. Hadn't he just seen her mere moments ago, dancing in the arms of an earl? Then, looking more closely, he saw that the shade of her gown was closer to turquoise than azure, her hair dressed a touch less elaborately-subtle differences but telling nonetheless. What had Thomas said? "She and her mother and her sister..."He must have made some sound, some movement, because the girl suddenly froze like a deer scenting a hunter, apprehension radiating from every inch of her.James spoke quickly, seeking to reassure her. "Pardon me, Miss Newbold. It is Miss Newbold, is it not?"Aurelia fought down a rush of panic and an irrational urge to flee-for all the good it would do her. The stranger's voice was deep and pleasant, with a faint burr she could not place. She wondered if he was as attractive as he sounded; the thought made her even more reluctant to turn around.But it would be rude not to acknowledge his presence. Keeping her face averted, she nodded. "I am Aurelia Newbold.""Miss Aurelia," he amended. "My name's Trelawney. Again, I ask your pardon. I could not help but stare-no one told me that you and your sister were identical twins."Aurelia swallowed, knowing she could no longer delay the inevitable. Best to get it over with, as quickly as possible. "We are twins, sir. But-no longer identical."She turned around, letting him see the whole of her face now-thinner and paler than Amy's, despite their maid's skilled application of cosmetics. But no amount of paint or powder could disguise the scar that ran along the left side of her hairline before curving sharply across her cheekbone like a reversed letter J. She forced herself to meet Mr. Trelawney's eyes, even as her stomach knotted in dread over what she would see.And there it was-that flash of pity in his eyes; dark eyes, in a strongly handsome face that recalled portraits of dashing adventurers and soldiers of fortune. At least they held no distaste or revulsion: a small mercy. Or perhaps he was simply better at hiding them."A riding accident," she said tersely, anticipating the question he was trying not to ask. "Three years ago. It's left me with a limp as well.""I am sorry." His voice was kind. "That must be difficult to bear. Do you need to sit down? I could escort you back to the ballroom, find you a chair."Aurelia shook her head. "That won't be necessary, sir. I just-came to admire the conservatory." And to escape all the stares, whether curious or pitying. She'd have preferred to stay behind in their suite at Claridge's tonight, but Amy had refused to attend this ball without her. Beautiful Amy, who looked the way she had used to look."I see." And as his dark eyes continued to study her, Aurelia had the uncomfortable feeling that Mr. Trelawney did indeed see."They fade, you know," he said, almost abruptly. "Scars. When I was a boy, I knew a man who'd served in the Crimea and had a saber cut down one side of his face. Many saw it as a badge of honor. In later years, some even t... Views: 59
