Gerry Hinton thought she had the perfect career as an operative for the Company. Her next assignment should have been another “mission accomplished”, but hell was delivering hand baskets that day.
When a little girl gives a mysterious silver box to Gerry, her world self-destructs. Suddenly under constant mental attacks, the only person who can save her is her partner, Nicky–but nothing comes without a cost. Secrets buried deep in the past begin to rise, threatening everything she holds dear.
If she can’t out run her past, can she save her future?
About the Author – Olivia Hardin realized early on how strange she was to have complete movie-like character dreams as a child. Eventually she began putting those vivid dreams to paper and was rarely without her spiral notebooks full of those mental ramblings. Her forgotten vision of becoming an author was realized when she connected with a group of amazingly talented and fabulous writers who gave her lots of direction and encouragement. With a little extra push from family and friends, she hunkered down to get lost in the words. She’s also an insatiable crafter who only completes about 1 out of 5 projects, a jogger who hates to run, and is sometimes accused of being artistic, though she’s generally too much of a perfectionist to appreciate her own work. A native Texas girl, Olivia lives in the beautiful Lone Star state with her husband and their puppy Bonnie.
Read An Excerpt
Gerry had a bad feeling when she heard the way the girl said the name “Buck” with a touch of disgust. Taking a deep breath, she reached back into her purse for the phone and texted Nicky: Carriage house. Now.
“Lead the way, Belle,” she told the girl as she pulled her skirt up to find the dagger sheathed on the inside of her thigh. “And while you walk, tell me what I need to know about Buck.”
She shrugged, “He’s not too difficult. Mostly he’s just stupid.” They made their way through the house, careful to avoid the party crowd. “He’s called Buck because his front fangs stick out a little too much. Buck-toothed.”
“A vamp?” Gerry asked.
“Nope, a werewolf.”
“Crap.” Gerry groaned. “He’ll smell us before we can sneak the kids out. I hate weres.”
“Buck lost his sense of smell a few years ago. There was this girl, you see, and she wasn’t much interested in him, but Buck wouldn’t take no for an answer. He followed her one night and the clever lady led him into a spice factory—right into the pepper grinding room. She jammed the gears on the machine and locked him in. His nose was never the same. His pack wouldn’t keep him around after that. So he took this job.”
She might have laughed but the object of their discussion was at that moment standing outside the carriage house taking a leak against a tree. It was easy to guess this was him by his unkempt look and the wild mane of brown hair pointing in all directions. The partially clawed hand leaning against the side of the oak was a sure bet, too.
“Doesn’t the oaf know how to use a bathroom?”
Belle’s teeth shone in the moonlight as she flashed Gerry a grin. “He likes to mark his territory.”
“I hate weres,” Gerry said again, this time whispering in disgust.
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