RESOLUTIONS
TERI RIGGS
Blurb:
DEA agent Eve Taylor has had her fill of alpha males. When Resolutions’ operative and former lover, Dillon “Mac” McKenna, threatened her hard-earned independence, she ran. On a mission to gather evidence against a Colombian drug-lord, Eve discovers the drug-lord is helping terrorists plan an attack on American soil. Before she can escape with the vital information, she’s captured and comes face to face with her mortality…
As a teen, Mac watched his family fall apart after his mother died doing dangerous U.N. work. The possibility of losing Eve to a mission ignited an overwhelming need to protect her. When he forced her to choose him or her job, she walked away. Two years later, it seems all his nightmares have come true and he’s tasked with rescuing her from a Colombian prison. Mac has never stopped loving Eve, but does he dare risk his heart when he’s so terrified of losing…
On the run, Mac and Eve must learn to trust each other again in order to stay alive.
Excerpt:
Beefy hands wrenched Eve awake from a
fevered sleep, pulled her from the cell, and shoved her into a musty-smelling
hallway. I’m being moved? A guard pushed her with one hand, keeping a tight
grip on an AK-47 rifle with his other.
Her shoulder throbbed in perfect
cadence with the pains shooting through her broken wrist, and she had one
badass headache from being punched in the face a few too many times. Using her
good hand, she walked fingers across one cheek, then the other. The right side
was totally numb. Her eye had swollen shut, and she couldn’t see a damn thing
out of it. She ran her tongue across her teeth and tasted the tart, copper
flavor of blood. Three teeth loose. Well, at least they’re still in place.
In spite of the relentless pain, she
stayed determined to survive whatever Mendoza dished out. She wasn’t a quitter.
No, sir. Duncan Falls, Iowa didn’t grow quitters. Eve ignored the constant ache
in her ribs, courtesy of a guard’s overzealous kick, and took in a deep breath.
She willed herself to stay alert, to keep pushing. Escape. Third times the
charm.
Eve slapped the guard’s dirty hand.
“Hey, Pedro, stop being so damned pushy. Where we going anyway? We got a hot
date I’ve forgotten about?”
He looked puzzled then shoved her
again.
“Don’t understand English, do you,
Diego? Bet you understand this.” Eve drove her elbow into the guard’s face.
Thick rubbery cartilage gave, and she whooped triumphantly.
Blood squirted from his nose and he
screamed.
Eve stepped back. “Yep, I’m pretty
sure you understand that.”
Unable to grab the guard’s assault
rifle, she clutched her injured shoulder, and took off in a slow jog, no longer
able to push any harder.
Her escape was short
lived.
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