! Ebook Free Going Gone (Forces of Nature), by Sharon Sala

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Going Gone (Forces of Nature), by Sharon Sala

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The final storm of the season could be their last. 

After barely escaping death when her plane crashed deep in the Rocky Mountains during a snowstorm, Laura Doyle is left with a lingering fear for her life. Her lover, FBI agent Cameron Winger, reassures her that he found her then and always will. But Laura is right to be afraid, because when their engagement is announced it signals to a madman that it's time for his killing spree to begin again. 

Twice thwarted by Cameron and his partners, the Stormchaser pairs random acts of God with deliberate acts of evil. His final act of vengeance will finish his twisted vendetta by taking from Cameron the thing he loves most: Laura. 

As law enforcement struggles to connect the gruesome murders he's committed to mask his return, the Stormchaser draws closer to his true target. But Cameron and Laura don't realize they're in the eye of the storm—and this time, being unprepared for the onslaught could spell disaster.

• Sales Rank: #154363 in Books
• Published on: 2014-09-30
• Released on: 2014-09-30
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.61" h x .91" w x 4.17" l, .41 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 368 pages

Review
"Skillfully balancing suspense and romance, Sala gives readers a nonstop breath-holding adventure." -Publishers Weekly on GOING ONCE

"Perfect entertainment for those looking for a suspense novel with emotional intensity."

-Publishers Weekly on Out of the Dark

"Vivid, gripping...this thriller keeps the pages turning."

-Library Journal on TORN APART

"Sharon Sala is not only a top romance novelist, she is an inspiration for people everywhere who wish to live their dreams."
-John St. Augustine, host, Power!Talk Radio WDBC-AM, Michigan

"Veteran romance writer Sala lives up to her reputation with this well-crafted thriller."
-Publishers Weekly on Remember Me

"[A] well-written, fast-paced ride."
-Publishers Weekly on Nine Lives

About the Author

Sharon Sala is a native of Oklahoma and a member of Romance Writers of America.  She is a NYT, USA Today, Publisher's Weekly, WaldenBooks mass market, Bestselling author of 85 plus books written as Sharon Sala and Dinah McCall.  She's a 7 time RITA finalist, Janet Dailey Award winner, 5 time National Reader's Choice Award winner, 4 time Career Achievement Award from RT Magazine, 4 time winner of Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The climax slammed into Laura Doyle so fast that she lost her mind. She heard Cameron groan as he let go and went with her, riding the bliss of pure lust. She threw her head back and laughed as the last shudder rolled through her. Making love to him was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her, and she didn't ever want it to stop.

"That, my love, was amazing," she said as she locked her fingers around his neck.

"Am I really your love? "

"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes…forever and ever," she said as she pulled him down for one last kiss.

It was the scream of someone shouting Laura's name that woke her, but within seconds she'd gone from the afterglow of a sexy dream to heart-pounding fear as she scrambled to tighten her seat belt. The private jet she'd boarded in Los Angeles was in trouble.

An alarm was sounding inside the cockpit, and the pilot, Ken Price, was shouting at everyone to buckle God in heaven, they were going down!

Marcy, her friend and coworker, who was sitting across the aisle, was crying as she tried to text someone on her cell phone. Laura thought of her sister, Sarah, and then of Cameron, but there was no time for goodbyes. She could hear someone praying, and the nose of the plane was no longer level with the horizon.

Marcy gave her a frantic look and tossed her a folded blanket. Laura caught it in midair and put it in her lap only seconds before she assumed the crash position. Her last conscious thought was that the blanket smelled like mouthwash, and then—impact!

It was pain, rolling, stabbing, unbelievable misery like nothing Laura ever felt, that woke her next. Something wet was running down the side of her face, and she couldn't figure out why the house was so dark. She reached for the bedside table to turn on the light, felt hair and then the side of someone's face, and imagined an intruder had broken into her house, and screamed until the back of her throat closed up from the panic.

The moan that followed was not her own, and that was when she remembered the plane crash. The fact that she was not about to be murdered in bed was a relief, but that she might die in this wreckage after living through the crash was not. The scent of an electrical short was strong, although she couldn't see any flames. She heard another moan, followed by a short, choking gasp.

"Marcy, is that you? Dan? Ken? Anyone?"

No one answered.

"Please, God, don't let this be happening," she whispered, and then realized she was shaking, but not from shock.

It was cold-to-the-bone freezing inside the cabin. She didn't know where they'd crashed, but it was February, and if they had gone down in the Rockies, her troubles had just grown exponentially.

She began fumbling at her waist, trying to undo her seat belt and find the blanket that had been in her lap. In moments she discovered she was flat on her back on the floor between the seats, which meant it was probably Marcy on the floor beside her. She shook her friend's shoulder, trying to get her to wake up.

"Marcy! Where are the blankets? We need the blankets. Can you find yours?"

Marcy didn't say anything, and Laura felt the first symptoms of hypothermia setting in.

"I did not survive this plane crash just to freeze to death," she mumbled, and tried to get up, but her leg was caught, and it was too dark to see how to free herself. Moments later something shifted above her, and she threw her arms up in defensive mode just as a duffel bag fell out of an overhead compartment and onto her chest. The sudden impact sent a pain through her body that was so strong she passed out. When she woke up again, the bag was still on her chest and she was struggling to breathe. If her ribs hadn't been injured in the crash, they were now. Every breath she took hurt, and she was getting light-headed from the pain. She had to find something to keep her warm, or next time she passed out, she might never wake up.

After a few moments of fumbling, she managed to unzip the bag and then began digging among the items until she found what seemed to be a heavy bath towel. When she felt an insignia embroidered in the terry cloth, she guessed this was the complimentary bathrobe that had been on the hook inside each hotel bathroom. This must be Dan's bag. He was notorious for taking things from hotels and then wondering why his credit card bill was higher than everyone else's.

Her hands were trembling as she covered herself with the robe. After that she began piling the rest of the garments from inside the bag on top of the robe, layer after layer. The scent of Dan's aftershave was the last thing she smelled as she passed out again.

The next time she woke up it was morning, and Marcy had rolled away and was lying on her side just out of Laura's reach.

"Marcy! Marcy! Can you hear me?"

Marcy didn't answer.

Laura pushed aside the covers to look at herself and then gasped. Her arms and hands were covered in dried blood, and her fingers were trembling as she began a self-examination.

Her chest hurt—a lot. The blood on her forehead was dried, and her leg was still trapped and aching terribly. When she heard something scratching at the outside of the plane her heart soared. Surely that was their rescuers, already on scene.

"Help! Help! We're in here!" she cried, but no one answered, and the scratching stopped.

When she realized it wasn't people making that noise and they were not being rescued, she broke down in tears, sobbing from pain and disappointment. It took her a few minutes to get her emotions under control and focus on getting free. Now that it was daylight, she could see how to remove the debris under which she'd been trapped.

She sat up slowly, moaning as pain rolled through her midsection, then, one at a time, began moving things aside until she was finally free.

Her leg was throbbing with every heartbeat. She reached down to pull up her pant leg and check it out, then nearly passed out from the pain and stopped. Okay, bending over was a bad idea, but at least when she stood up, her aching leg held her weight.

But her relief was short-lived when she heard a snarl, and then a low, throaty growl from outside the plane and remembered the scratching from before. At that point she panicked again. The thought of falling victim to wild animals was horrifying, but a quick glance about the cabin told her it was still intact.

The good news was that no animals could get to her. The bad news was that Marcy was apparently dead. She began to cry as she set about looking for Dan, and quickly found his body crumpled up in a corner near the door to the pilot's cabin. Her fingers were trembling as she felt for a pulse at the base of his neck. His skin was as cold as the air around them, and there were no signs of life. They had been more than coworkers with the Red Cross. They were her friends, and they were dead. Then she remembered the pilot, Ken Price. He had to be alive. She couldn't do this by herself.

The door leading into the cockpit was ajar. She stepped inside, then slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Ken's eyes were wide-open in a death stare that gave her the chills. All the rest of his facial features had been completely obliterated by the impact.

All of a sudden the walls began to spin around her. She staggered out of the cockpit and slid down the wall into a sitting position, quickly putting her head between her knees to keep from passing out. As the wave of nausea passed, she began to think what to do next, and talking aloud seemed to help her focus.

"I need my coat, and I need to radio for help."

But that meant going back into the cockpit. She forced herself to go, and sobbed all the way through the ordeal of trying to make Ken's radio work, but to no avail.

She didn't know if private jets like this one were equipped with locator beacons, but she was determined not to lose hope. After one brief moment of panic, thinking she might never see Sarah or Cameron again, she had to believe she'd lived through this for a reason. It was time to get practical. She moved back into the cabin, putting on as many pieces of Dan's clothing as she could wear. When she finally found her coat, she threw it over her arm and began searching through the debris for cell phones.

Cameron Winger was on his way out of the Federal Building, buttoning up his coat as he went. He ducked his head against the blast of winter wind as the door swung shut behind him. Tiny flakes of snow lit on his hair like bits of white lace on black satin. He was a tall man with features more refined than his attitude. He didn't like the word no and had no tolerance for ineptitude. He squinted when he was deliberating a decision until his green eyes were barely visible, and there was just the tiniest hint of a dimple in his right cheek. He'd been with the FBI since college and never once regretted the decision.

He was on his way to his car when his cell phone rang. He glanced at caller ID and frowned. Why was Laura's sister, Sarah, calling him?

"Hello?"

"Cameron! Thank God you answered!" His gut knotted when he heard the panic in her voice.

"What's wrong?"

"Laura's plane never landed. It went off radar late yesterday evening."

The world stopped. Cameron felt the bitter bite of winter on his face as he turned away and closed his eyes. This couldn't be happening. Laura was everything to him. Then he took a deep breath and made himself focus.

"She was coming back from that convention in L.A., right?"

"Yes."

"Do they know where it went down?"

"All I know is they're setting up search and rescue somewhere around Denver. Can you go? I'm in Canada. Someone needs to be there for her, and I can't get there fast enough to do any good."

"Absolutely."

"Keep me informed?" she begged.

"Of course," he said, and made a U-turn on the sidewalk, resisting the urge to run as he headed back into the Federal Building.

It took over an hour, but Laura finally found all four cell phones, then, one by one, her hopes were dashed as she failed to get a signal.

"Can you believe it?" she muttered, talking to Marcy as if she could still hear. "Four phones and not a single signal from any of them."

Marcy had nothing to say.

At least during the search for the phones she'd found a first-aid kit, some snacks and two bottles of water. She put the food and water in the farthest corner of the plane, away from the bodies, then made her way to the tiny bathroom. There was no getting around bodily functions, but she had to leave the door open for light so she could see.

When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she stifled a horrified gasp. When she sat down on the commode, she groaned from the pain, and when she got up, she groaned again.

The cut in her hairline had bled into her scalp while she was passed out, leaving her white-blond hair with garish streaks of red. Now it was freeze-dried to her skin and nothing short of multiple scrubbings was going to take it out.

Her face was normally heart-shaped but was swollen on one side more than the other, and her lower lip was puffy and bruised. Her eyes, normally blue, reflected the pain she was suffering to the point that they were almost gray. She was dressed like a scarecrow with all the layers of clothing, but considering the danger of her circumstances, her appearance wasn't worth further consideration.

She stumbled as she came out of the bathroom, grabbed at a seat to keep from falling and then winced from the pain of the added jolt. After a thorough search through the first-aid kit, she found a few butterfly bandages and used them on the cut in her scalp. She chewed and swallowed three extremely bitter aspirin, hoping they were enough to offset the steady throb between her eyes. Used one wet wipe to clean some of the blood from her face and hands, then managed to open one of the bottles of water and took a drink.

It hurt terribly to inhale, and she was guessing her ribs were either broken or severely bruised. She dug farther into the kit and found a couple of ACE bandages. Reluctantly, she removed enough clothing to wrap up her rib cage. It hurt like hell in the process and as soon as she was done, she dressed hastily, shivering from the encroaching cold.

Her next problem was finding a way to get warm. There were three other suitcases that had been tossed about the cabin, and she went through them one by one, digging out the contents and tossing anything usable toward the tail section. Once the suitcases were empty, she began arranging the clothing until she had made a nest for herself within the pile.

Exhausted and reeling from so many aches she could hardly breathe, she crawled into the middle of all that fabric, then pulled the coats and the blankets she'd found around her. Secure within her makeshift bed, she tried the phones again, praying to get a signal. Tears welled as she finally accepted it was a lost cause.

It was quiet outside now, and she thought about the animals, hoping they were gone. The wind rose in an eerie wail that mirrored her despair. She was staring at one of the tiny windows, telling herself that any moment the face of a rescuer would appear and look inside, and she would be saved.

When it began to snow, it added another dimension to the danger she was in. This would slow down search planes, and if the snow was too heavy, the planes would never be able to find the wreckage of a white, snow-covered plane from the air.

Most helpful customer reviews

5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
I Respect A Woman Who Can Effectively Swing A Tire Iron
By Mary L. Valley
So at the end of the series, the weather's better but the killer keeps getting crazier—and sloppy. Living in serial killer retirement in Mexico, the man responsible for a series of deaths of survivors of natural disasters has his boat rocked by the information that the team of FBI agents he thought he'd successfully eliminated are alive and well and living happily—two with women he'd tried and failed to kill previously, and the third about to marry the Red Cross employee he'd worked under while following disasters in order to gain access to his victims and fly under the radar. Feeling balked of what he thought of as his win—the deaths of the men chasing him—he decides (big surprise) someone has to die. Instead of trying again for the two women who’d managed to escape him, clearly this is not a try, try again sort of guy—although that might have had something to do with the fact that he got the holy, living whatever kicked out of him while trying to off them, and them returning the favor in spades—leaving him scarred and in pain. Being an evil killer is so much easier when your victim doesn’t happen to be at least as good as you at committing mayhem, so he fixates on a hopefully easier target, his former coworker to make his statement.

Meantime, our heroine is having a bad patch. First one of her volunteers turns out to be a crazy serial killer, then she barely survives a plane wreck where she’s the only survivor, her much loved older sister is moving overseas to London after a major promotion, and finally the aforementioned crazy killer is now targeting her. Some years it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed. Sharon Sala writes strong heroines, however which I like. They don’t sit back and wait to be saved but get on with the business of living well and making a difference. They take precautions, and when faced with overwhelming attack, fight back with everything they have, including tire irons or any other blunt objects at hand. If I ever make the transition to fictional character, I want to be one of them because they are not only “kick-rump” (ammy concession), but have to-die for guys on the line.

Stalking the heroine, the killer begins stacking up victims in a pattern around her only he knows in order to taunt the police and FBI with their inability to stop him. Time and his previous failures have taken their toll, however and he’s making more mistakes than ever. Throughout the series, he’s been visibly sloughing off the layers of his humanity to reveal the damaged monster he is; in this book you have the addition of watching his mental deterioration accelerate as well. Sometimes, I was surprised sparks weren’t flying out his ears as his brain short-circuited and sputtered along.

By the crucial scene, he is only a stumbling shadow of the sly, stealthy operator from the previous books, while the heroine is another fight to the end type who—as I may have mentioned—swings a mean tire iron.

I do not find the romance scenes lacking, just different from the previous books. Instead of the first blooming of love, we have a fully developed love affair getting ready to make the step to wedded love. Yes, there are sexual scenes, they are tastefully done and flow well with the story.

I always hate to say goodbye to a good series, but console myself that it was neatly wrapped up and everyone got their HEAs and the killer his appropriate comeuppance. Clear a little space when you start, I was glued to the pages until the end.

Next series, please.

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Wonderful series!
By Sparkymom
I was totally hooked into this book from the first page! What an exciting way to start a story. From the beginning, it is obvious Laura and Cameron have a history from previous books. Since I haven't read any of this author's other works, I wondered if I would be lost. Fortunately, that was not the case at all. I was completely sucked into their relationship and their deep love for each other.

Laura's plane crash was harrowing to read and think about. Cameron wasted no time getting to a place where he could find her and putting all of his effort into the search. He becomes her lifeline and her tie to reality in the aftermath. He is strong and supportive and exactly what she needs. The scene where they fly back home totally grabbed my heart!

Unfortunately, before she has completely recovered emotionally, a killer from Cameron's past related to his work for the FBI returns and chooses Laura for his final target. Fear rises along with the body count as the killer baits Cameron and his FBI team. Laura works to become stronger in every way as she and Cameron both have to spend more and more time at work and apart. Cameron suspects the killer is targeting Laura, but has no proof until it's almost too late.

I loved how Laura used the strength and research she sought out for herself in the end and how Cameron's gift to ensure her safety ultimately proves its value. This was a great story, and I am so excited to have found another favorite author. I purchased the first book in this series before I even finished this one, that's how much I enjoyed it.

Thanks go to Net Galley for providing a copy to review. Awesome book!

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Satisfying
By Amazon Customer
Good solid ending to a series!
Long time Sala readers have come to appreciate her attention and skill at writing difficult situations with a vividness and intensity that makes you feel as though you are there.
This title is no exception.
Here we have the long awaited finale of the Forces of Nature series focusing on Cameron Winger, an FBI agent tasked to apprehend a serial killer who preys on his victims during natural disasters, and Laura Doyle, a Red Cross employee who is on site after disaster strikes.
This time the Stormchaser killer is making this personal, going after Laura in an attempt to make Cameron and his FBI team pay for thwarting him in the past.
The twists and turns the plot takes are vintage Sala and the action comes quickly in a satisfying climax that left me smiling and feeling fulfilled.

See all 120 customer reviews...

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? Ebook Free Haunted Destiny (Krewe of Hunters), by Heather Graham

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www.TheOriginalHeatherGraham.com

Between the evil and the deep blue sea… 

A historic cruise ship, a haunted ship, the Celtic American Line's Destiny, sets sail from the Port of New Orleans—with a killer on board. He's known as the Archangel Killer because of the way he displays his victims in churches. And how he places a different saint's medallion on each body. No one knows exactly who he is or why he's doing this. 

Jackson Crow—head of the FBI's Krewe of Hunters, a special unit of paranormal investigators—is assigned to the case, along with local agent Jude McCoy. Then Alexi Cromwell, who works in the ship's piano bar, is drawn into the situation when a victim's ghost appears to her—and to Jude. She and Jude share an attraction, and not just because of their mutual talent. 

There are many suspects, but one by one they're ruled out… Or are they? In the end, Jude and Alexi have to rely on each other to catch the killer and escape his evil plans for Alexi.

• Sales Rank: #40946 in Books
• Published on: 2016-05-24
• Released on: 2016-05-24
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.54" h x .97" w x 4.25" l, .39 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 368 pages

Review
"With an astonishing ease and facility, this talented and hard-working writer can cast her stories in any genre." -Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse novels

"Once again, Heather Graham has outdone herself. The Betrayed took me on a fantastic trip to Sleepy Hollow and I'd travel with Graham anywhere... This chilling novel has everything: suspense, romance, intrigue and an ending that takes your breath away." -Suspense Magazine

"[Waking the Dead] is not to be missed."
-BookTalk

"Dark, dangerous and deadly! Graham has the uncanny ability to bring her books to life, using exceptionally vivid details to add depth to all the people and places."
-RT Book Reviews on Waking the Dead, Top Pick

"Murder, intrigue...a fast-paced read. You may never know in advance what harrowing situations Graham will place her characters in, but...rest assured that the end result will be satisfying."
-Suspense Magazine on Let the Dead Sleep

"Graham deftly weaves elements of mystery, the paranormal and romance into a tight plot that will keep the reader guessing at the true nature of the killer's evil."
-Publishers Weekly on The Unseen

"Suspenseful and dark.... The transitions between past and present flow seamlessly, and the main characters are interesting and their connection to one another is believable."
-RT Book Reviews on The Unseen

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Heather Graham has written more than a hundred novels. She's a winner of the RWA's Lifetime Achievement Award, and the Thriller Writers' Silver Bullet. She is an active member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America. For more information, check out her websites: TheOriginalHeatherGraham.com, eHeatherGraham.com, and HeatherGraham.tv. You can also find Heather on Facebook.

Most helpful customer reviews

13 of 13 people found the following review helpful.
Krewe Agents On A Cruise
By C. Dunn
Another very good Krewe story. A killer is on the loose in New Orleans and is chased as he gets on a cruise. Lots going on in this story with numerous suspects, passengers, cruise employees & of course a team of Krewe of Hunters along with a terrible storm. I liked the ghosts, the hero & the staff. Heather Graham is a great writer and this book is no exception.

11 of 12 people found the following review helpful.
A great read.
By debbie
Haunted Destiny is number 18 in the Krewe of Hunters series and it is just as fresh and original as the first one. Heather Graham is my go to author. She never disappoints me. Her style of writing and storylines keep me coming back for more. This one had a serial killer on a cruise ship. A great read.

5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Kept me reading late into the night
By Lark of The Bookwyrm's Hoard
Haunted Destiny is the newest in Heather Graham’s Krewe of Hunters series, and I really enjoyed it. “Destiny” refers to the cruise ship on which most of the action takes place, as well as its more conventional meaning of fate. The setting reminded me a little of Agatha Christie’s mysteries set in closed communities (ships, trains, planes, country houses), although of course Graham’s style is very different from Christie’s. Alexi and Jude make a good couple, and the secondary characters were interesting as well.

The ghosts in this one are unusually talkative for a Krewe book (though I admit I haven’t read that many yet.) That might bother some people who feel that ghosts should be more… ghostly, but I rather liked it. Especially the chanteuse and her boyfriend, who are around enough to be secondary characters in their own right. As in some of the other Krewe books I’ve read, the ghosts are integral to solving the mystery.

Speaking of mystery, Haunted Destiny kept me reading late into the night. Graham does a good job of introducing a number of suspects and eliminating them one by one, while slowly ratcheting up the suspense. Even as the book nears the denouement, I was still debating between two or three suspects. I wasn’t exactly surprised by the final reveal, but it wasn’t my top suspect. I sometimes find serial killer mysteries very disturbing, but this novel didn’t bother me, perhaps because while Graham does describe the deaths, she doesn’t dwell gratuitously on the violence and gore. And although her investigators certainly pay attention to the killer’s psychology in an attempt to figure out his motives and probable next moves, as a reader I didn’t have to spend a lot of time in the murderer’s head, which helped as well.

Where the plot falters slightly is in how quickly Jude zeros in on Alexi and her friend as the most likely target(s). He does this even before they have any evidence of the “type” the murderer is likely to go for next. And even when they have that evidence, there are plenty of other possible targets on the ship, yet his major focus is still on Alexi and her friend. It’s a relatively minor point, but typical of the sort of logical leap that I’ve seen in many of Graham’s books. Don’t get me wrong; I’ll buy an intuitive leap on the part of a character, particularly if they’re the sort to make intuitive connections. And that could have been the case this time. But sometimes it comes across more as a skipped step in the author’s chain of logic, and I got that feeling in this book. It didn’t keep me from enjoying the story, though!

I’m slowly working my way through the backlist of the Krewe of Hunters series, but I’m already looking forward to the next one!

REVIEW ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED on The Bookwyrm’s Hoard blog: [...]
FTC disclosure: I received a review copy from the publisher. All opinions are entirely my own.

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>> Fee Download Never Say Die & Whistleblower: Never Say Die\Whistleblower, by Tess Gerritsen

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The man emerged from the mist, right in front of Cathy Weaver's car--running from killers who were closing in on him. Victor Holland's story sounded like the ravings of a man on the brink of madness, but his claim to be a fugitive was confirmed by the haunted look in his eyes--and the bullet hole in his shoulder. As each hour brings pursuers ever closer, Cathy has to wonder, is she giving her trust to a man in danger or trusting her life to a dangerous man?.

• Sales Rank: #725163 in Books
• Brand: Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2007-05-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 8.00" h x .89" w x 5.13" l,
• Binding: Paperback
• 560 pages

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Review
"It's scary just how good Tess Gerritsen is..." - Harlan Coben "Gerritsen has enough in the locker to seriously worry Michael Connelly, Harlan Coben and even the great Denis Lehane. Brilliant." - Crime Time "Gerritsen is tops in her genre." - USA TODAY "Tess Gerritsen writes some of the smartest, most compelling thrillers around." (Bookreporter)

About the Author
Tess Gerritsen left a successful practice as an internist to raise her children and concentrate on her writing. She gained nationwide acclaim for her first novel of medical suspense, the New York Times bestseller Harvest; she followed her debut with the bestsellers Life Support and Gravity (both available from Pocket Books.) Her other novels includes Body Double, The Sinner, The Apprentice, and The Surgeon. Tess Gerritsen lives in Maine.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Present

Bangkok, Thailand

General Joe Kistner did not sweat, a fact that utterly amazed Willy Jane Maitland, since she herself seemed to be sweating through her sensible cotton underwear, through her sleeveless chambray blouse, all the way through her wrinkled twill skirt. Kistner looked like the sort of man who ought to be sweating rivers in this heat. He had a fiercely ruddy complexion, bulldog jowls, a nose marbled with spidery red veins, and a neck so thick, it strained to burst free of his crisp military collar. Every inch the blunt, straight-talking, tough old soldier, she thought. Except for the eyes. They're uneasy. Evasive.

Those eyes, a pale, chilling blue, were now gazing across the veranda. In the distance the lush Thai hills seemed to steam in the afternoon heat. "You're on a fool's errand, Miss Maitland," he said. "It's been twenty years. Surely you agree your father is dead."

bury, General."

Kistner sighed. "Of course. The wives. It's always the wives. There were so many widows, one tends to forget—"

"She hasn't forgotten."

"I'm not sure what I can tell you. What I ought to tell you." He turned to her, his pale eyes targeting her face.

"And really, Miss Maitland, what purpose does this serve? Except to satisfy your curiosity?"

That irritated her. It made her mission seem trivial, and there were few things Willy resented more than being made to feel insignificant. Especially by a puffed up, flat-topped warmonger. Rank didn't impress her, certainly not after all the military stuffed shirts she'd met in the past few months. They'd all expressed their sympathy, told her they couldn't help her and proceeded to brush off her questions. But Willy wasn't a woman to be stonewalled. She'd chip away at their silence until they'd either answer her or kick her out.

Lately, it seemed, she'd been kicked out of quite a few offices.

"This matter is for the Casualty Resolution Committee," said Kistner. "They're the proper channel to go—"

"They say they can't help me."

"Neither can I."

"We both know you can."

There was a pause. Softly, he asked, "Do we?"

She leaned forward, intent on claiming the advantage.

"I've done my homework, General. I've written letters, talked to dozens of people—everyone who had anything to do with that last mission. And whenever I mention Laos or Air America or Flight 5078, your name keeps popping up."

He gave her a faint smile. "How nice to be remembered." "I heard you were the military attaché in Vientiane. That your office commissioned my father's last flight. And that you personally ordered that final mission."

"Where did you hear that rumor?"

"My contacts at Air America. Dad's old buddies. I'd call them a reliable source."

Kistner didn't respond at first. He was studying her as carefully as he would a battle plan. "I may have issued such an order," he conceded.

"Meaning you don't remember?"

"Meaning it's something I'm not at liberty to discuss. This is classified information. What happened in Laos is an extremely sensitive topic."

"We're not discussing military secrets here. The war's been over for fifteen years!"

Kistner fell silent, surprised by her vehemence. Given her unassuming size, it was especially startling. Obviously Willy Maitland, who stood five-two, tops, in her bare feet, could be as scrappy as any six-foot marine, and she wasn't afraid to fight. From the minute she'd walked onto his veranda, her shoulders squared, her jaw angled stubbornly, he'd known this was not a woman to be ignored. She reminded him of that old Eisenhower chestnut, "It's not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog." Three wars, fought in Japan, Korea and Nam, had taught Kistner never to underestimate the enemy.

He wasn't about to underestimate Wild Bill Maitland's daughter, either.

He shifted his gaze across the wide veranda to the brilliant green mountains. In a wrought-iron birdcage, a macaw screeched out a defiant protest.

At last Kistner began to speak. "Flight 5078 took off from Vientiane with a crew of three—your father, a cargo kicker and a copilot. Sometime during the flight, they diverted across North Vietnamese territory, where we assume they were shot down by enemy fire. Only the cargo kicker, Luis Valdez, managed to bail out. He was immediately captured by the North Vietnamese. Your father was never found."

"That doesn't mean he's dead. Valdez survived—"

"I'd hardly call the man's outcome "survival.""

They paused, a momentary silence for the man who'd endured five years as a POW, only to be shattered by his return to civilization. Luis Valdez had returned home on a Saturday and shot himself on Sunday.

"You left something out, General," said Willy. "I've heard there was a passenger!."

"Oh. Yes," said Kistner, not missing a beat. "I'd forgotten."

"Who was he?"

Kistner shrugged. "A Lao. His name's not important."

"Was he with Intelligence?"

"That information, Miss Maitland, is classified." He looked away, a gesture that told her the subject of the Lao was definitely off-limits. "After the plane went down," he continued, "we mounted a search. But the ground fire was hot. And it became clear that if anyone had survived, they'd be in enemy hands."

"So you left them there."

"We don't believe in throwing lives away, Miss Maitland. That's what a rescue operation would've been. Throwing live men after dead."

Yes, she could see his reasoning. He was a military tactician, not given to sentimentality. Even now, he sat ramrod straight in his chair, his eyes calmly surveying the verdant hills surrounding his villa, as though eternally in search of some enemy.

"We never found the crash site," he continued. "But that jungle could swallow up anything. All that mist and smoke hanging over the valleys. The trees so thick, the ground never sees the light of day. But you'll get a feeling for it yourself soon enough. When are you leaving for Saigon?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"And the Vietnamese have agreed to discuss this matter?"

"I didn't tell them my reason for coming. I was afraid I might not get the visa."

"A wise move. They aren't fond of controversy. What did you tell them?"

"That I'm a plain old tourist." She shook her head and laughed. "I'm on the deluxe private tour. Six cities in two weeks."

"That's what one has to do in Asia. You don't confront the issues. You dance around them." He looked at his watch, a clear signal that the interview had come to an end.

They rose to their feet. As they shook hands, she felt him give her one last, appraising look. His grip was brisk and matter-of-fact, exactly what she expected from an old war dog.

"Good luck, Miss Maitland," he said with a nod of dismissal. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

He turned to look off at the mountains. That's when she noticed for the first time that tiny beads of sweat were glistening like diamonds on his forehead.

General Kistner watched as the woman, escorted by a servant, walked back toward the house. He was uneasy. He remembered Wild Bill Maitland only too clearly, and the daughter was very much like him. There would be trouble.

He went to the tea table and rang a silver bell. The tinkling drifted across the expanse of veranda, and seconds later, Kistner's secretary appeared.

"Has Mr. Barnard arrived?" Kistner asked.

"He has been waiting for half an hour," the man replied.

"And Ms. Maitland's driver?"

"I sent him away, as you directed."

"Good." Kistner nodded. "Good."

"Shall I bring Mr. Barnard in to see you?"

"No. Tell him I'm canceling my appointments. Tomorrow's, as well."

The secretary frowned. "He will be quite annoyed." "Yes, I imagine he will be," said Kistner as he turned and headed toward his office. "But that's his problem."

A Thai servant in a crisp white jacket escorted Willy through an echoing, cathedral-like hall to the reception room. There he stopped and gave her a politely questioning look. "You wish me to call a car?" he asked.

"No, thank you. My driver will take me back."

The servant looked puzzled. "But your driver left some time ago."

"He couldn't have!" She glanced out the window in annoyance. "He was supposed to wait for—"

"Perhaps he is parked in the shade beyond the trees. I will go and look."

Through the French windows, Willy watched as the servant skipped gracefully down the steps to the road. The estate was vast and lushly planted; a car could very well be hidden in that jungle. Just beyond the driveway, a gardener clipped a hedge of jasmine. A neatly graveled path traced a route across the lawn to a tree-shaded garden of flowers and stone benches. And in the far distance, a fairy blue haze seemed to hang over the city of Bangkok.

The sound of a masculine throat being cleared caught her attention. She turned and for the first time noticed the man standing in a far corner of the reception room. He cocked his head in a casual acknowledgment of her presence. She caught a glimpse of a crooked grin, a stray lock of brown hair drooping over a tanned forehead. Then he turned his attention back to the antique tapestry on the wall.

Strange. He didn't look like the sort of man who'd be interested in moth-eaten embroidery. A patch of sweat had soaked through the back of his khaki shirt, and his sleeves were shoved up carelessly to his elbows. His trousers looked as if they'd been slept in for a week. A briefcase, stamped U.S. Army ID Lab, sat on the floor beside him, but he didn't strike her as the military type. There was certainly nothing disciplined about his posture. He'd seem more at home slouching at a bar somewhere instead of cooling his heels in General Kistner's marble reception room.

"Miss Maitland?"

The servant was back, shaking his he...

Most helpful customer reviews

32 of 33 people found the following review helpful.
Not Up to Her Par
By Lindsay A. Smith
The author must groan when she rereads these works. The gulf between these two books and The Bone Garden is clearly illustrative of the evolution of the author's style and maturity of plot creation and prose. In The Bone Garden, Tess's writing is beginning to move from grocery store entertainment to literature, offering sophisticated plot development and truly fine writing. Never Say Die and Whistleblower, while as readable as any of her stories, offer predictable plots, embarrassingly formulaic dialog, sappy romantic scenarios, and unrealistic police process. I love Tess's books and have read every one. But readers are best served to enter into these stories with an understanding that they are early works, and she had not yet hit her literary stride. I find it fascinating to see how much her writing has matured in the 15+ years since these romance genre books were written. If you are a Tess fan, read them--but be prepared they are not up to her current century par.

23 of 26 people found the following review helpful.
Tess takes you away!
By D. Lane
This is the first book I have read of Tess Gerritsen's and if these 2 books are an example of her writing and ability to take you to a place you've never been, I will be reading more of her works.

The first book, "Never Say Die", is set in Vietnam and I could just feel the humidity! The story and plot was well thought out and the characters were well developed. It was a very fast read and I enjoyed it immensely.

The second book, Whistleblower" was equaling enthralling. The storyline was believeable and I was exhausted just reading about what the main characters went through! The two main characters were both strong and likeable, which is a change from the guy 'saving' the woman in distress.

Both these books would make great movies.

12 of 15 people found the following review helpful.
A disappointment
By A Customer
There's usually a reason that a bestselling author's early novels are NOT famous -- they're simply not as good. I've enjoyed most of Tess Gerritsen's other novels, but this one frustrated me with its sappy, bad-Harlequin-romance atmosphere. Although they are supposedly intelligent, mature adults, the two leads behaved like none too bright, naive yo-yos. Granted, there were a few good surprises, but all of the characters were pretty one dimensional. This may be partly due to the book's shorter length (i.e., if you cram in lots of plot developments, something's got to go). I always feel guilty about panning an author's hard work, yet I also want to spare a reader hours of unsatisfying effort. I finished reading this book because I'm stubborn, but I'd advise others to skip it and stick with her later works.

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PROMISE, TEXAS, is a good place to live with the person you love. When rancher Cal Patterson and his wife, Jane—better known as Dr. Texas—face a threat to their marriage, she leaves Promise, the town that's become her home as much as his. Will Jane be back by Christmas? Because, for both of them, the greatest gift of all would be her Return to Promise.

GOLD RIVER, ALASKA, isn't your average town. After being jilted by her fiancé, Caroline Myers ends up there—thanks to her matchmaking aunts, who send her on what appears to be an autumn vacation. Not surprisingly, they have something different in mind. Something that involves spending a snowy Christmas in handsome Paul Trevor's home—as his Mail-Order Bride.

• Sales Rank: #511451 in Books
• Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2008-10-21
• Released on: 2008-10-21
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .99" w x 4.21" l, .40 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 384 pages

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• Great product!

About the Author

Debbie Macomber, with more than 100 million copies of her books sold worldwide, is one of today's most popular authors. The #1 New York Times bestselling author is best known for her ability to create compelling characters and bring their stories to life in her books. Debbie is a regular resident on numerous bestseller lists, including the New York Times (70 times and counting), USA TODAY (currently 67 times) and Publishers Weekly (47 times). Visit her at www.DebbieMacomber.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Cal Patterson knew his wife would be furious. Competing in the annual Labor Day rodeo, however, was worth Jane's wrath—although little else was.

Bull riding had always enticed him, even more than bronc riding or roping or any of the other competitions. It was the thrill that got to him, the danger of riding a fifteen-hundred-pound bull, of staying on for eight seconds and sometimes longer. He craved the illusion that for those brief moments he was in control. Cal didn't do it for the trophy—if he was fortunate enough to take top prize—or to hear his name broadcast across the rodeo grounds. He was drawn by the challenge, pitting his will against the bull's savage strength, and yes, the risk. Jane would never understand that; she'd been raised a city girl and trained as a doctor, and she disapproved of what she called unnecessary risk. In her opinion, bull riding fell squarely into that category. He'd tried to explain his feelings about it, but clearly he'd failed. Jane still objected fervently whenever he mentioned his desire to enter rodeo competitions. Okay, okay, so he'd busted a rib a few years back and spent several pain-filled weeks recuperating. Jane had been angry with him then, too. She'd gotten over it, though, and she would again—but not without inducing a certain amount of guilt first.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she ushered their three-year-old son, Paul, into the bleachers. Cal dutifully followed behind, carrying eighteen-month-old Mary Ann, who was sound asleep in his arms. As soon as his family was settled, he'd be joining the other competitors near the arena. A few minutes later, Jane would open the program and see his name. Once she did, all hell would break loose. He sighed heavily. His brother and sister-in-law would be arriving shortly, and if he was lucky, that'd buy him a couple of minutes.

"Glen and Ellie are meeting us here, aren't they?" Jane asked, her voice lowered so as not to disturb the baby. His daughter rested her head of soft blond curls against his shoulder, thumb in her mouth. She looked peaceful, downright angelic—quite a contrast to her usual energetic behavior.

"They'll be here soon," Cal answered, handing Mary Ann to Jane.

With two children demanding her time and attention, plus the ranch house and everything else, Jane had cut back her hours at the medical clinic to one weekend a month. Cal knew she missed practicing medicine on a more frequent basis, but she never complained. He considered himself a lucky man to have married a woman so committed to family. When the kids were in school, she'd return to full-time practice, but for now, Paul and Mary Ann were the focus of her life.

Just then, Jane reached for the schedule of rodeo events and Cal tensed, anticipating her reaction.

"Cal Patterson, you didn't!" Her voice rose to something resembling a shriek as she turned and glared at him.

"Cal?" She waited, apparently hoping for an explanation.

However, he had nothing to say that he hadn't already said dozens of times. It wouldn't do any good to trot out his rationalizations yet again; one look told him she wouldn't be easily appeased. His only option was to throw himself on her good graces and pray she'd forgive him quickly.

"You signed up for the bull ride?"

"Honey, now listen—"

"Are you crazy? You got hurt before! What makes you think you won't get hurt this time, too?"

"If you'd give me a chance to—"

Jane stood, cradling Mary Ann against her. Paul stared up at his parents with a puzzled frown.

"Where are you going?" he asked, hoping he could mollify her without causing a scene.

"I refuse to watch."

"But, darling…"

She scowled at him. "Don't you darling me!"

Cal stood, too, and was given a reprieve when Glen and Ellie arrived, making their way down the long row of seats. His brother paused, glancing from one to the other, and seemed to realize what was happening. "I take it Jane found out?"

"You knew?" Jane asked coldly.

Ellie shook her head. "Not me! I just heard about it myself."

"Looks like Jane's leaving me," Cal joked, trying to inject some humor into the situation. His wife was overreacting. There wasn't a single reason she should walk out now, especially when she knew how excited their three-year-old son was about seeing his first rodeo.

"That's exactly what you deserve," she muttered, bending to pick up her purse and the diaper bag while holding Mary Ann tightly against her shoulder.

"Mommy?"

"Get your things," she told Paul. "We're going home."

Paul's lower lip started to quiver, and Cal could tell that his son was struggling not to cry. "I want to see the rodeo."

"Jane, let's talk about this," Cal murmured.

Paul looked expectantly from his father to his mother, and Jane hesitated.

"Honey, please," Cal said, hoping to talk her into forgiveness—or at least acceptance. True, he'd kept the fact that he'd signed up for bull riding a secret, but only because he'd been intent on delaying a fight. This fight.

"I don't want Paul to see you injured," she said.

"Have a little faith, would you?"

His wife frowned, her anger simmering.

"I rode bulls for years without a problem. Tell her, Glen," he said, nodding at his brother.

"Hey," Glen said, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. "You're on your own with this one, big brother."

"I don't blame you for being mad," Ellie said, siding with Jane. "I'd be furious, too."

Women tended to stick together, but despite Ellie's support, Cal could see that Jane was weakening.

"Let Paul stay for the rodeo, okay?" he cajoled. "He's been looking forward to it all week. If you don't want him to see me compete, I understand. Just leave when the bull riding starts. I'll meet you at the chili cook-off when I'm done."

"Please, Mommy? I want to see the rodeo," Paul said again, eyes huge with longing. The boy pleaded his case far more eloquently than he could, and Cal wasn't fool enough to add anything more.

Jane nodded reluctantly, and with a scowl in his direction, she sat down. Cal vowed he'd make it up to her later.

"I'll be fine," he assured her, wanting Jane to know he loved and appreciated her. He slid his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. But all the while, his heart thundered with excitement at the thought of getting on the back of that bull. He couldn't keep his gaze from wandering to the chute.

Jane might have been born and raised in the big city, but she was more than a little bit country now. Still, she'd probably never approve of certain rodeo events. Cal recognized her fears, and as a result, rarely competed anymore—hadn't in five years. But he expected Jane to recognize the impulses that drove him, too.

Compromise. Wasn't that what kept a marriage intact?

* * *

Jane had no intention of forgetting Cal's deceit, but now wasn't the time or place to have it out with her husband. He knew how she felt about his competing in the rodeo. She'd made her views completely clear, even before they were married.

Still, she'd acquiesced and held her tongue. She glanced at Cal's brother and sister-in-law and envied them. Their kids were with a baby-sitter, since they planned to attend the dance later that evening. Jane would've preferred to stay, too, but when she'd mentioned it to Cal, he'd balked. Dancing wasn't his favorite activity and he'd protested and complained until she dropped it.

Then he'd pulled this stunt. Men!

Partway through the rodeo, Paul fell asleep, leaning against her side. Cal had already left to wait down by the arena with the other amateur riders. As the time approached for him to compete, she considered leaving, but then decided to stay. Her stomach would be in knots whether she was there watching him or not. Out of sight wasn't going to put her risk-taking husband out of mind, and with Paul asleep, there was no reason to go now.

"Are you worried?" Ellie asked, casting her a sympathetic look.

She nodded. "Of course, I don't know what Cal was thinking."

"Who said he was thinking at all?" Ellie teased.

"Yeah—it's the testosterone," Jane muttered, wondering what her husband found so appealing about riding such dangerous beasts. Her nerves were shattered, and that wasn't going to change. Not until she knew he was safe.

"I was hoping you and Cal would come to the dance."

Ellie was obviously disappointed, but no more than Jane herself. She would've loved an evening out. Had she pressed the issue, Cal would eventually have given in, but it hadn't seemed worth the arguments and the guilt. Besides, getting a sitter would've been difficult, since nearly everyone in Promise attended the annual Labor Day rodeo—and Ellie had managed to snag the services of Emma Bishop, one of the few teenagers available for baby-sitting.

"Cal didn't want to leave the kids," she explained. There'd be other dances, other opportunities, Jane reassured herself.

"He's up next," Glen said.

"Go, Cal!" Ellie squealed. Despite her sister-in-law's effort to sound sympathetic, Jane could tell she was excited.

When Cal's name was announced, Jane didn't want to look but couldn't stop herself. Cal was inside the pen, sitting astride the bull, one end of a rope wrapped around the saddle horn and the other around his hand. She held her sleeping child more tightly and bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Suddenly the gate flew open and fifteen hundred pounds of angry bull charged into the arena.

Almost immediately, Glen and Ellie were on their feet, shouting. Jane remained seated, her arms around her children. "What's happening?" she asked Ellie in a tight, urgent voice.

"Cal's doing great!" she exclaimed. Jane could barely hear her over the noise of the crowd. Ellie clapped wildly when the buzzer went. "He stayed on!" she crowed. "So far, he's ahead!"

Jane nodded. How he'd managed to last all those seconds, she had no idea.

"Whew. Glad that's over." Ellie sank down next to Jane.

"My brother's got a real flair for this," Glen said to no one in particular. "He could've gone on the circuit if…" He let the rest fade.

"If he wasn't married," Jane said, completing his thought. Actually Glen's assessment wasn't really accurate. Her husband was a long-established rancher before she'd come on the scene. He'd competed in rodeos since he was in his teens, but if he'd been interested in turning professional, he would have done so when he was much younger. She had nothing to do with that decision.

"Glen," Ellie said, squeezing her husband's arm, "who's that woman over there?" Ellie was staring at a brunette standing near the fence.

"What woman?" Glen asked.

"The one talking to Cal."

Jane glanced over, and even from this distance she could see that the other woman was lovely. Tall and slender, she looked like a model from the pages of a Western-wear catalog in her tight jeans, red cowboy boots and brightly checked shirt. It was more than just her appearance, though. Jane noticed the confidence with which she held herself, the flirtatious way she flipped back her long brown hair. This was a woman who knew she looked good—especially to men.

"She seems familiar," Ellie said, nudging Glen. "Don't you think?"

"She does," he agreed, "but I can't place her."

"Apparently she's got a lot to say to Cal," Ellie added, then glanced apologetically toward Jane as though she regretted mentioning it.

Jane couldn't help being curious. The woman wasn't anyone she recognized. She wasn't the jealous type, but she found herself wondering how this Rodeo Princess knew her husband. It was clear that the woman was speaking animatedly to Cal, gesturing freely; for his part, Cal seemed more interested in what was happening with the rodeo than in listening to her.

Jane supposed she should be pleased by his lack of interest in another woman, and indeed she was. Then, as if aware of her scrutiny, her husband turned toward the bleachers and surveyed the crowd. His face broke into a wide grin when he caught her eye, and he waved. Earlier she'd been annoyed with him— in fact, she still was—but she'd never been able to resist one of Cal's smiles. She waved in return and blew him a kiss.

An hour later, after Cal had been awarded the trophy for the amateur bull-riding competition, they decided to leave. With Mary Ann in the stroller and Paul walking between them, they made one last circuit of the grounds before heading toward the parking lot. They passed the chili cook-off tent, where the winner's name was posted; for the first time in recent memory, it wasn't Nell Grant. But then, Jane understood that Nell had declined to enter this year.

It was near dusk and lights from the carnival rides sparkled, delighting both Paul and Mary Ann. Cal's arm was around Jane's shoulder as they skirted the area set aside for the dance. The fiddle players were entertaining the audience while the rest of the musicians set up their equipment. People had gathered around, tapping their feet in anticipation.

The lively music had Jane swaying to the beat. "I wish we were staying," she murmured, swallowing her disappointment.

"We'd better get home," Cal said, swinging his trophy at his side. "I didn't want to say anything before, but I'm about as sore as a man can get."

"Your rib?" she asked.

He grimaced, obviously in pain. "Are you going to lecture me?"

"I should," she told him. "But I won't. You knew the risks."

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "You're right. I did."

What really bothered her was that he'd known—and participated, anyway. He was fully aware that he could've been badly injured, or worse. And for what? She simply didn't understand why a man would do anything so foolish when he had so much to lose.

Most helpful customer reviews

8 of 9 people found the following review helpful.
Outstanding!
By Kindle Customer
I loved this book. I am so happy Debbie took us back to Promise, TX. Even better she took us back into the lives of Cal and Jane Patterson. This couple is taken through the ringers and back again, but there love for one another shines through. The book had both love and drama in it. The second story was great as well, but if you are a fan of the Promise series then you will love this story. Please Debbie, write more about Promise TX and the characters from the stories, because they are amazing to read.

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
A Small Town Christmas
By MoodyBlue
I'm not your love story kind of girl. I have been reading true crime for years so when I decided I needed a break from TC I picked up "Small Town", and I'm glad I did. The first story is about the Pattersons. Clay is your handsome, rugged cowboy (what's a love story if it doesn't have a handsome, rugged man?). Cal and Jane have a nice marriage but when a woman comes to town with her sights set on Cal things get rocky. In the second story Caroline gets jilted at the alter and her loving aunts decide to send her on a vacation in Alaska but is it really a vacation? The story of Paul and Caroline is just as sweet as Cal and Jane's. If you are looking for a sweet romance with just enough sugar then "Small Town Christmas is for you.

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Two Sweet Love Stories
By Tiffany
This was my first book by the author, and I didn't know what to expect. I ended up thoroughly enjoyed by both stories. Neither of the stories contained graphic details (in my opinion), making them each exceptionally sweet.

"Return to Promise" was about two people who are married that happen to be going through a rough patch, while "Mail-Order Bride" is about two people falling in love. I liked both of them. "Mail-Order Bride" is a bit longer than the other story, but not by much. Because of the smaller length, neither of the two stories were too heavy. Each said what needed to be said, and left the rest to imagination, while still allowing for character development.

One thing I really enjoyed about the books was how both of the male protagonists were not the chauvinistic, unchanging types often found in this genre. It was refreshing.

One thing though, I would not say that either of these stories is a Christmas story (as in a story revolving around Christmas and/or Christmas time). I had read the synopsis, so I wasn't disappointed, but do not judge the book by the cover.

I would recommend this book for anyone looking for a light, happy read in the romance genre. You can snuggle up and enjoy.

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** PDF Download Dakota Home (Dakota Series #2), by Debbie Macomber

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Dakota Home (Dakota Series #2), by Debbie Macomber

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Buffalo Valley has found new life. People have started moving to this town—people like Lindsay Snyder, who came as a teacher and stayed, marrying local farmer Gage Sinclair. And now Lindsay's best friend, Maddy Washburn, has decided to pull up stakes and join her in Buffalo Valley, hoping for the same kind of satisfaction. And the same kind of love…

Jeb McKenna is a rancher, a solitary man who's learned to endure. Maddy—unafraid and openhearted—is drawn to Jeb, but he rejects her overtures. Until one of North Dakota's deadly storms throws them together…

Those few days and nights bring unexpected consequences for Maddy and Jeb. Consequences that, one way or another, affect everyone in Buffalo Valley.

• Sales Rank: #479078 in Books
• Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2007-11-13
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x 1.09" w x 4.21" l, .43 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 400 pages

Features

• Great product!

Amazon.com Review
New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber returns to Buffalo Valley, North Dakota, a close-knit farming community struggling to survive in an increasingly industrial world. "Never say die" is the motto for Buffalo Valley and its resilient citizens, including newcomer Maddy Washburn, first introduced in Dakota Born, her best friend, teacher Lindsay Sinclair, Lindsay's husband, Gage, and Jeb McKenna, a local rancher whose tragic accident has left scars much deeper than the loss of his leg. More and more isolated since the tractor calamity, Jeb does not welcome pretty Maddy's friendly overtures. But when Maddyy is stranded in a vicious winter storm, Jeb saves her life, warming her with his own body heat--and steamy caresses. Jeb feels the ice encasing his heart start to thaw with each sweet embrace. In this second installment in a trilogy, longtime Macomber fans and new recruits will welcome Buffalo Valley's extensive cast of quirky characters with open arms. --Alison Trinkle

From Publishers Weekly
Buffalo Valley's depressed economy has taken a turn toward recovery in this second installment in Macomber's trilogy set in contemporary North Dakota. Buffalo Bob's bar is flourishing, Rachel's weekend pizza delivery has become a full-fledged restaurant and Sarah has a waiting list for her quilting classes. But the main attraction this time is Maddy Washburn, who bought the failing grocery store and, through clever marketing, has revived the town's interest in shopping locally. One of Maddy's new customers is Jeb McKenna, a farmer who lost his leg from a tractor accident four years before and now prefers a reclusive existence on his ranch to socializing in town. A blizzard sends Maddy into Jeb's arms long enough for the pair to fall in love (thus importing another romance from Dakota Born), but Jeb still considers himself a cripple and refuses to allow Maddy a permanent place in his life. Macomber closes book two with a cliffhanger, leaving readers anxiously awaiting the final installment to this first-rate series. (Aug.)
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Review
"[Dakota Born is] a heartwarming tale set in a small farming town on the brink of extinction. Fans are certain to take to the Dakota series as they would to cotton candy at a state fair." -Publishers Weekly

"Dakota Born is more than just a regional contemporary romance. The lead couple is a wonderful pair, and the supporting cast brings North

"[Debbie Macomber] is skilled at creating characters who work their way into readers' hearts. In this book she masterfully moves the story along while not shortchanging the main plotline." -RT Book Reviews on Dakota Home

"Macomber closes [Dakota Home] with a cliffhanger, leaving readers anxiously awaiting the final installment to this first-rate series." -Publishers Weekly

"Poignant, moving, compelling, Always Dakota comes highly recommended." -WordWeaving

"Macomber excels at depicting believable characters...who inhabit this delightful town." -Publishers Weekly

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
FIVE romances going on at once (with two other stories on the side). JEB and MADDY got lost !!
By Romantic Fool
What do you get when you try to jam FIVE romances into ONE book ? A total fail !! The blurb seemed to be about Jeb and Maddy. It sounded so good. I think they had the least page time in this book. Author switches back and forth, back and forth between Five, count them FIVE relatiionships (with another one the side) There are babies and weddings and a whole teenage story line also.

Does this author think that in this fast paced world, a person cannot read an entire book, with only ONE couple, with character development, with angst and love ?? I asked Amazon for my money back and will not be reading any other book in this series, and probably not any other books by this author. It's a shame too because her writing style is good.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Debbie Macomber does it again!
By Norah sostrom
She does a great job of character development which makes you instantly into the characters, whether it be that you like them or not you definitely understand them. If you like a book you get involved in and can't put down then. I highly recommend this one!

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Dakota series a great read
By Lorraine
I have read all the Dakota series and loved them all. I could not put the book down. It was a great read and wonderful story. I had to get the other books in the series to keep the thrill going.

See all 203 customer reviews...

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? Download PDF The Perfect Murder (The Last Stand), by Brenda Novak

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For more than a year, Sebastian Costas has been trying to unravel the truth behind the murder of his ex-wife and son. Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, he's convinced that her second husband—a cop—committed both murders, then faked his own death. Now Sebastian has followed the slimmest of leads to Sacramento…and that's where he finally gets the break he needs. Jane Burke, an investigator with The Last Stand, calls him in connection with a separate crime—a crime that could lead him straight to the man he's been looking for.

Once married to a serial killer, Jane has spent the past five years rebuilding her life. And with Sebastian she finally has a chance at happiness. But the man they're after is after them, too. For him this has become a personal battle, one he's determined to win. Whatever it takes…

• Sales Rank: #110127 in Books
• Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2009-09-29
• Released on: 2009-09-29
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x .99" w x 4.21" l, .44 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 448 pages

Features

• Great product!

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Brenda Novak has penned over 45 novels. A two-time Rita nominee, she's won The National Reader's Choice, The Bookseller's Best, The Bookbuyer's Best and many other awards. She runs an annual online auction for diabetes research every May at www.brendanovak.com. To date, she’s raised over $2 million. Brenda considers herself lucky to be a mother of five and married to the love of her life.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Mary looked good. Better than she had in high school. There were more curves to her body, a new sophistication to her face, and her smile seemed to have more meaning behind it. But Malcolm could tell she was weary. The divorce had taken a heavy toll. And she did a lot for her two boys.

He shifted, ducking when he heard an engine in the street. He was partly shielded by a large poplar tree and, judging by the volume of the music emanating from what appeared to be a muscle car, the driver was probably a teenage boy who was as oblivious and self-absorbed as he used to be at that age. But it wouldn't do to have someone see him peeking in Mary's windows.

The car, bass pounding through its speakers, passed without slowing. Then the beat and the motor dimmed, and the neighborhood returned to sleep mode. This was Malcolm's favorite time to watch Mary—although he sometimes came when the sun was up, too, if he thought she'd be home from work. Now that he was unemployed it was hard to fill all the hours in a day. His new life hadn't turned out remotely the way he'd imagined when he'd planned to start over. He missed the people he'd known before, wanted to contact some of them— but they thought he was dead and they had to go on thinking that.

Maybe that was why, after so many years, he'd looked up his high-school sweetheart and followed her to California. The compulsion to reconnect didn't make much sense otherwise. He'd moved on without her quite easily twenty years ago. Married twice, divorced once and…

He didn't want to think about what he'd done to his second wife. He didn't regret killing her or her son. As far as he was concerned, they deserved what they got. But ever since he'd gambled away most of the insurance settlement he'd taken when he left Jersey, he'd been forced to live in dumpy rental houses out in the boondocks where the smell of cow shit was so strong it sometimes felt as if he was standing in it. Tough to find something better when the only jobs he could get were at two-bit security companies that paid a buck or two over minimum wage.

With a silent curse, he remembered the last job he'd held. It wasn't the meager pay that bothered him so much as the lack of respect. He couldn't take it; not after being a real cop.

Fingering the badge he still carried everywhere, he slid to the next window so he could have a better view of Mary checking her computer. She was probably expecting to hear from him. Claiming to be someone she'd once met briefly, he'd contacted her through her jewelry-making Web site and managed to strike up a relationship.

But hiding behind an alias and a computer screen wasn't satisfying him tonight. He was bored, restless….

After only a few minutes at the computer, Mary stood and started turning off the lights. With the kids in school and her job at the hospital, she was pretty damned predictable. From here, she'd go into her bedroom, pull the blinds and the show would be over.

Unless she didn't bother with the blinds. In the months he'd been watching her, she'd forgotten only once, but that gave him hope.

Creeping around to the other side of the house, he squatted in the shrubbery and waited for her to enter her bedroom.

She came in, turned on the TV, put away some clothes that were folded and sitting on a chair. Then she approached the window. They were only inches apart, so close he could see the mascara smudges that told him she'd been rubbing her eyes—

Then the blind went down.

Shit. Malcolm sank lower on his haunches. What now? Should he head to the Indian casinos and while away a few hours?

No. He needed something more visceral, something more exciting, something to remind him of the power he'd once enjoyed.

He toyed with the idea of slipping into the house, exploring the empty rooms, touching Mary's things, stealing a pair of her panties. Maybe even watching her sleep. The temptation to do so was growing stronger every day. He certainly thought about it a lot. But he was afraid he'd get caught and screw up the possibility of having a real relationship with her once he could trust her enough to reveal his true identity. He'd come too far to blow all that by being impatient….

He had to leave. But that didn't mean he had to call it a night. Thinking of the Kojak light he kept in his van, he felt his mood improve. Playing cop wouldn't put him in Mary's bed tonight, but it would give him the adrenaline rush he craved—and maybe a few sexual favors to go with it.

Three weeks later…

Jane Burke recognized an opportunity when she saw one. Ever since she'd started working at The Last Stand, she'd been waiting for her chance, hoping a case would come along that would allow her to prove herself.

She was pretty sure it had just walked through the door.

"The man who let me in said you might be able to help me." A short cannonball of a woman stood uncertainly in the entryway of Jane's office, swiping at tear-filled eyes.

Motioning for her to come farther into the room, Jane brought over a box of tissues. "I'll do my best," she promised. "But first I need to learn more about why you're here."

The young woman's obesity made it difficult to guess her age, but Jane pegged her at twenty-four or twenty-five. Gerald, the volunteer who'd admitted her, had told Jane she had two siblings who'd recently gone missing. So far, that was all Jane knew. If it'd been on the news, she hadn't seen it or heard about it. But that wasn't too surprising. She'd been so busy she hadn't even turned on the TV. "What's your name?"

In an attempt to control her emotions, the woman took two tissues and blew her nose. "Gloria. Gloria Rickman."

"Gloria, I'm Jane Burke. Please sit down so we can talk." Jane returned the tissue box to its generally ignored corner, then pulled a chair away from the wall, placing it in front of the desk, where it would've been if she'd been in the habit of taking her own cases. She was still in training, had been since she'd started six months ago, which meant she did all the tedious record searches, time-consuming court runs and boring clerical work for the three partners who were the backbone of the victims' charity. But she had a feeling the criminal justice courses she'd been taking, and everything she'd learned on the job, was about to pay off. With Skye Willis and Ava Trussell in South America on a rare job-for-hire, tracking a father who'd stolen his child from his ex-wife, and Sheridan Granger out on maternity leave, Jane had been left in charge of the office. This was the perfect time to tackle her first case. Other than the three volunteers who came in to stuff envelopes or solicit donations, she was the only person here.

"Let me get a notebook. Then I want you to tell me what's upset you so much."

The chair creaked as the woman settled into it. Rolls of flesh spilled over the wooden frame, but Jane didn't care about her excess weight. She'd once been heavy herself. Maybe not quite to this degree, but definitely frumpy. If not for the counseling, daily workout sessions and self-defense classes that'd become her routine—all a product in one way or another of her friendship with Skye—she'd probably still be the disillusioned, overweight, hard-edged smoker she'd been four years ago.

Now she ran an hour a day, weighed a trim one hundred and ten pounds, and had stopped trying to kill herself with cigarettes. Only her smoker's voice remained. And the scars from that period of her life, of course. They'd never go away entirely—especially the ones on the inside.

"I'm here 'bout my two sisters," Gloria said. "They went missin' three weeks ago."

"Three weeks ago?" Jane echoed, unable to hide her shock.

Tears welled up again. "Three weeks ago las' Saturday."

It was Monday morning. That added another day, almost two.

"Why haven't I heard about this?"

"I don't know. There were articles in the paper. I reported it to the police the same afternoon it happened," she said, "but the detective who called me ain't found nothin' yet. He's been tryin', but… no one's got any idea where my sisters are an'… I'm so scared. That's why I'm here. I have to do somethin' more. I can't jus' sit around an' wait. I'm all they have. I'm all they ever had."

"Where're your parents?"

"We have different fathers, but none of 'em are any good," she said. "Our mother didn't hang with the best crowd, you hear what I'm sayin'? She died of a drug overdose when I was twenty-three. I was the oldest and had my own place, so I moved my sisters in with me. Latisha, the youngest, wasn't even in high school yet."

Jane could easily identify with being raised by another member of the family. Her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was six, leaving her to be raised by an aging aunt who'd stayed single her entire life and had since died, as well. "Where do you live?"

"In a one-bedroom apartment on Marconi. We been there since they came to live with me. It's a small place, but we make it work. I won't uproot 'em again and again and again, like what my mama did to me."

"It's wonderful that you've been able to provide some stability," Jane said. "How long ago did you assume responsibility for them?"

"It's been 'bout three years now. They eighteen and seventeen. They both graduated this last June," she stated proudly. "Marcie got her GED, but Latisha, she was put up a grade on account of she's so smart. She graduated with honors and won a scholarship to Sac State."

So the missing sisters were, for the most part, adults. That was probably why this case hadn't become a major focus for the media. That and the fact that there'd been nothing more to report. "Did you have an argument with them? Try to punish them? Anything that might've made them angry enough to leave?"

"We argue all the time, but that ain't what's wrong, Ms.—"

"Jane. You can call me Jane."

"They ain't never left before. They know I yell 'cause I want 'em to be more and have more than our mother. They gotta go to college. They keep tryin' to drop out so they can help me keep a roof over our heads. It's tough to earn a livin' workin' at a convenience store. I put in a good sixty, seventy hours a week. But I got Marcie's tuition at ARC to pay for, in

addition to all the other bills. They're what make it worth doin'—knowin' they'll have a better life if I keep goin'. I can't lose 'em." More tears streaked her bronze cheeks. "We been through too much. It can't end like this."

Already Jane feared she might be in over her head. Be careful what you wish for, she silently chided herself. She'd been bugging Skye to let her start taking on her own cases, and Skye kept saying she wasn't ready. But if she didn't get involved now, Gloria would have to wait for Skye and Ava to return. Depending on what happened in South America, that could take a week to ten days, maybe longer. With the economy the way it was, donations were down by a significant margin. Skye and Ava needed to finish this job in order to keep the charity's doors open. That was the only reason Skye's husband had agreed to her going so far away. He was the one who'd insisted Ava go with her, since he couldn't take the time off work. They wouldn't be back until the woman who'd contracted them had her child back. And Sheridan, their other partner, was planning to spend the next three or four months at home with her new baby.

"Have you been in touch with all their friends?" Jane asked. "Do you have any other family in the area?"

"I talked to everybody. I been on the phone night an' day. Ain't nobody seen 'em."

"When's the last time you had contact?"

"That same Saturday. Latisha was sleepin' when I had Marcie take me to work. Latisha had to wait tables at noon and Marcie had to be at the Rancho Cordova Marriott at three. She's a maid." She leaned forward, as if taking Jane into her confidence. "I let 'em work part-time if they're keepin' up with their schoolwork and all." She rocked back. "Anyway, Latisha never showed up at the restaurant. I didn't know 'cause nobody called me. But when Marcie didn't go to work like she always does, the hotel wanted to know what was what. I tried her cell, but it kept goin' to voice mail."

"So you're thinking they disappeared from your apartment?"

"No. As soon as I could get someone to cover the store, I took the bus home and foun' the house jus' fine, locked up an' everythin'. But the car was gone. We have a little Honda Civic."

Jane made a note of this information. "Is there any chance your sisters could be into drugs, Gloria?"

"Oh, no! You think I'd let that happen after I watched my mama kill herself with that shit? After all I done to raise 'em up good? They wouldn't dare. They know I'd kick their asses clear to kingdom come."

Jane believed she would, too. "Where do you think they might've driven?"

Gloria's double chin wagged as she shook her head. "With the price of gas, they had no business goin' nowhere. We gotta pinch pennies jus' to survive. Mosta the time, we take the bus. But maybe Marcie decided to buy some doughnuts and a paper. She been talkin' 'bout gettin' a new job, a better one. That's my best guess, since the car was found near Hank's Donuts. Hank's is our favorite."

Jane quickly tried to assemble the scenario in her mind. Car abandoned; girls missing. Both sisters were going to school and working. They were also living in an environment that wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was very apparent that they were at least loved. What could've gone wrong?

"What condition was the car in? Did it have a flat, a breakdown?" she asked.

"That car has one problem after another. It ain't worth but a few hundred bucks. But the police found it parked on a residential street off Franklin Boulevard, a few blocks from the doughnut place, like I said. And it was runnin'jus' fine."

"Was there anything inside to indicate where your sisters had been that morning—some napkins from Hank's? A grocery sack? A Starbucks cup?"

Most helpful customer reviews

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Electric and intense
By Tooncesmom
Sebastian Costas has been working to locate the man who murdered his ex-wife and his son to the detriment of his job and his relationship with a long-time girlfriend. He has followed the man whom police authorities believe dead from New York to California and now he feels he is closing in on the suspect.

Jane Burke's dead husband was both dentist and serial killer and Jane struggles to overcome the trauma of his unspeakable behavior. She is a new hire at The last Stand, a charitable advocacy operation for abused and disadvantaged women. While her partners are away, Jane offers to help find two missing young women. Their captor's modus operandi bears a striking similarity to that of the man Sebastian is trying to locate.

Ms. Novak writes a gritty novel, and of the series, this is the grittiest. At times I had an uneasy feeling just reading about the unspeakable evil of the antagonist.

Sebastian is likable, as is Jane, however, she seemed not to have learned from her own troubling experience. I found her a bit too naive, a bit too lacking in street smarts which detracted somewhat from my overall enjoyment of this book. Despite this, The Perfect Murder is an electric read, full of plot twists and the usual dose of romance. Readers will enjoy this top notch storyteller and her skillful plotting. A number of secondary characters come alive in this sixth Last Stand book. Don't miss it.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
The Perfect Murder
By mnix
Jane Burke has been through a lot, but the `survivor' tattoo on her hand says it all. Jane's ex-husband was a serial rapist and murderer who almost killed her. She never thought she'd be able to pick up the pieces and get on with life again. Now, Jane works for The Last Stand, a charity organization that fights for victims. Jane is desperate to prove that she is ready to become an investigator, so when two young women go missing, she gets her chance. Jane's investigation leads her to Sebastian Costas. Sebastian is convinced that his ex-wife and son - Emily and Colton - were killed by Emily's second husband, Malcolm Turner. It looks like Malcolm may be involved in Jane's kidnapping case. Sebastian wants a shot at the man who destroyed his life and got away with it. In the process, he may get an unexpected start at love with Jane.

The Perfect Murder is an excellent edge-of-your-seat story. There are lots of twists and turns and the suspense is intense from beginning to end. I highly recommend reading Trust Me, book one in The Last Stand series before The Perfect Murder. Otherwise, your opinion of Jane and understanding of her past may be affected. Malcolm is a revenge seeking sociopath. It's scary how easily he fools everyone around him. His insanity and his twisted relationship with one of his captives is fascinating. The psychological effects of her ordeal are scary, realistic, and intense. I was as riveted to Malcolm and his captive as I was to the story and Jane and Sebastian's romance. Jane is strong and capable with a hard edge that only a person who suffered a traumatic and painful past could have. I like Jane and Sebastian as a couple very much. Sebastian is sexy and charming. He's a very personable character. Brenda Novak has penned another exciting and intense novel with The Perfect Murder. I can't wait to see what twisted villain she comes up with next!

Nannette
Reviewed for Joyfully Reviewed

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
My Least Favorite
By A Reader
I've enjoyed this series a lot, but this was by far my least favorite of the series.

Jane did not make a good lead. There was nothing spectacular about her other than the past she overcame, and that seemed too ridiculous to be credible. And Sebastian was not a strong character -- I didn't care for him through most of the book, but I really started to dislike him when he felt the need to stick his nose into the Burke family business and confront Wendy about things that were none of his concern.

The romance between these two characters was not believable in the least. And I have to say, I don't understand Brenda Novak's obsession with birth control gone wrong. In every single book, the woman frets about birth control then somehow manages to have sex without using it, causing her to immediately begin to wonder if she's pregnant while the man, who barely knows her, can't wait to raise this supposed baby. It'd be one thing if it had happened once or twice...but this whole scenario takes place in pretty much every book she writes. It's almost turned into a joke of a subplot, along with the speed with which her romances move.

I'm glad this series is wrapped up because I don't think it could've gone any further (and I couldn't take another book featuring the arrogant, know-it-all Skye), but I'm looking forward to her next series.

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