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Looking For A Good Hard-Boiled Thriller? We Think You’ll Enjoy This Free Excerpt From KND Thriller of The Week: M.D. Grayson’s Isabel’s Run (Danny Logan Mystery #3)

On Friday we announced that M.D. Grayson’s Isabel’s Run (Danny Logan Mystery #3) is our Thriller of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the thriller, mystery, and suspense categories: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Thriller excerpt:

4.7 stars – 9 Reviews
Or currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members Via the Kindle Lending Library
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

When danger comes lurking in the night, most people run home and hide—safe behind a locked door. For others, though, running home isn’t the answer. For these unlucky ones, when the front door closes and locks at night—the horror’s not locked outside. It’s locked inside.

Isabel Delgado knows all about horror. For nearly five years, her step-father subjects her to the kind of abuse and depravation that no child should ever have to endure. But Isabel survives. Her spirit is strong and she never gives up hope. On the morning of her 16th birthday, Isabel takes a stand. She wakes early, gathers her things in a school backpack, and with a last look behind, she runs. But Isabel’s not prepared for what she finds.

In the third Danny Logan mystery novel, Seattle author M.D. Grayson brings Danny Logan and the entire team at Logan PI–”Toni” Blair, Kenny Hale, and “Doc” Kiahtel—back for their most exciting and most important adventure yet. Their mission—find Isabel and rescue her from the street gangs and the seething cauldron of teen-age prostitution and human trafficking.

One Reviewer Notes
“An excellent book, well written and hard to put down once started. I usually do not praise very many books as I read so many but will make an exception on this book. Well worth the time to read if you like mysteries and thrillers.” – Amazon Reviewer, 5 Stars

And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free excerpt:

Prologue

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

4:45 p.m.

ISABEL DELGADO WAS in
trouble. She sneaked a glance out of the corner of her eye as the
uniformed security guard approached. She was seated on an iron bench
outside the Terraces food court, pretending to be absorbed in a
directory brochure of the Alderwood Mall in Lynnwood, Washington. The
guard drew closer. Not again, Isabel thought. She fought to
remain calm. She’d already been run off earlier in the day by a
different guard when she’d been unable to come up with a quick answer as
to why she was hanging around in the same area all morning long. That
guard threatened to call the police and have her arrested for loitering
if he saw her again. Isabel had left in a hurry. She’d completely
circled the mall, figuring that the guard wouldn’t wait that long to
catch her again. But in the end she had nowhere to go, so now, three
hours later, she was back, and another guard was approaching.

Isabel
had no desire to push her luck, but she was out of ideas, and she was
out of prospects. She’d tried to lay low since the earlier episode while
she waited for something to happen, and she’d been pretty successful—no
one had even talked to her except for a cute girl with red hair a
couple of hours ago who’d said that she, too, was running. But then the
girl suddenly left ten minutes later, and Isabel was alone again. Since
then: nobody. Which was fine with her. She knew she needed to do
something—but she didn’t want to make a mistake. Above all, she didn’t
want to be sent back home—couldn’t be sent back home. She’d decided that
if she were arrested, she’d lie about who she was so that they couldn’t
send her back. Meanwhile, she waited—waited for something to happen.

She
used her peripheral vision and concentrated on the new guard. He was
younger. If he stopped, maybe he’d be nicer. From twenty-five feet away,
she could hear his footsteps as he approached, keys jangling quietly at
his side. He whistled softly to himself, the same quiet, absent-minded
way her father used to whistle when he came up the walkway to the house
at the end of the day. Suddenly, the guard’s radio crackled and came to
life, causing him to stop before he reached her. Isabel was startled,
but she caught herself—she didn’t look up.

The
guard listened and then keyed his microphone. “Unit Two, roger,” he
said. “I’ll be there in five.” At least his voice sounded kind.

He resumed his approach. Isabel suppressed a shudder as the man paused when he reached her. She felt him looking at her. Steady, now. She looked up. The guard was tall and nice looking. Isabel thought he had kind eyes.

The guard looked at her for a moment. Finally, he smiled. “Hey there. What’s going on?”

Isabel
fought back the urge to panic. She was a quick learner and, after the
last encounter, she’d prepared a story. “I’m waiting for my mom.” She
trembled inside but she worked hard to keep her voice even as she used
the words she’d rehearsed in her mind. “She’s picking me up.”

“That
right?” The guard considered this. “If she’s picking you up, how come
you’re not waiting down at the benches by the curb?” He paused and
looked at her. “Say,” he added. “Aren’t you the girl who we ran off
earlier this morning?”

Isabel
tensed up and started to panic. She hadn’t expected that particular
follow-up question, and she was unprepared. She felt a quick surge of
adrenaline. All she could manage for an answer was a quick shake of her
head.

The
guard studied her for a second—an eternity for Isabel. He pursed his
lips, saying nothing, as if weighing whether or not to buy her story.
Then, apparently coming to a decision, he reached for his radio. Just as
he was about to key his microphone, though, he was interrupted.

“There
you are!” Isabel jumped. She turned and saw an attractive young woman
in her early twenties walking up the sidewalk, talking to her. Isabel
had no idea who she was.

“I
got mixed up,” the woman said, smiling brightly as she reached the two.
“I thought we were supposed to meet at the front of the mall.” She
turned to the guard, who’d frozen for a moment. “It’s okay, officer.
She’s with me.” She turned back to Isabel, “C’mon, sweetie. Let’s go
inside and grab a drink before we take off.”

Isabel
looked at the woman for a moment. She was dressed in a loose,
shimmering green knit sweater over a white blouse. She wore tight black
slacks and black shoes with heels so tall that Isabel wondered how she
could stand up. Her dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose
curls. Even her perfume smelled wonderful. She was one of the most
beautiful women Isabel had ever seen. The woman made a small, urgent
gesture with her head as if to say “C’mon.”

Isabel felt the guard staring at her, so she made up her mind quickly. “Sure,” she said, standing. “Let’s go.”

The
woman smiled and took Isabel’s arm. Together, they left the guard
standing on the sidewalk, watching them. They turned and walked through
the double doors into the food court. Once inside, the woman said,
“C’mon. Let’s sit over here for a minute and talk.” She led Isabel to a
nearby table.

The
food court at the mall is a large open area of dining tables surrounded
by restaurants. There were few shoppers there—the lunchtime crowd had
left, and the evening shoppers had yet to arrive. The smells of the food
from the different shops instantly reminded Isabel that she was hungry.

“Whew,
that was a close one, huh?” the woman said as she scanned the area
around their table. She turned back to face Isabel. “I’m Crystal. What’s
your name?”

“Isabel.” To say that Isabel was confused would be a big understatement.

Crystal
looked around again and then back at Isabel. “I couldn’t help but
overhear you talking to the guard, Isabel. It sounded like you might
need rescuing. Are you really waiting for your mom?”

Isabel shuttered. “Yes,” she lied. She didn’t know this woman. “She’s coming to pick me up.”

Crystal smiled. “Good.” She studied Isabel intently for several seconds. “Have you been waiting long?”

Isabel
couldn’t very well tell Crystal the real story—that she’d spent last
night under the cedar tree by the trash bins, remaining out of sight of
the roving security guards. Yet, despite her need to be guarded, she
thought there was something about this woman that offered an
invitation—a glimmer of hope. Something in her eyes and her tone of
voice made Isabel think that Crystal might be someone who could help
her. She certainly didn’t want to relive the frightening experience of
spending the night under the cedar tree again.

Isabel nodded. “A little while.”

Crystal nodded slowly. “Can I buy you a Coke or something? While you wait?”

Isabel
figured in the worst case, at least she’d be safe from the security
guards for a while. “Okay,” she said. Crystal bought them a couple of
drinks from one of the vendors and returned to their table.

The
two chatted about nothing in particular—food choices, the way this or
that person was dressed, movies. After a few minutes had passed, though,
Crystal’s tone suddenly changed, and she became serious. “Can I ask you
a real question, Isabel?” she said.

“Yeah.”

Crystal continued to study her. “You’re not really waiting for your mom, are you.”

Isabel
tensed up. Crystal had phrased it in the form of a statement, not a
question. “Yes, I am,” she protested. “Why do you say that?”

Crystal
shrugged. Her eyes bored into Isabel. “Because we’ve been sitting here
for oh—twenty minutes or so, and you haven’t looked back at the door
even once the whole time. You forgot your story.”

Oh, hell.
Isabel was mortified to realize that Crystal was right. She’d been so
relieved to have someone to talk to that she’d completely forgotten
she’d said she was waiting to be picked up. She tensed up and then
started to push away from the table.

“It’s
alright,” Crystal said, reaching across and putting her hand on
Isabel’s arm. “No need to leave. Don’t worry about it. I’m not the
police or security or anything like that.”

Isabel stayed seated but kept her chair pushed back.

Crystal looked at Isabel intently for several moments. “You’re running, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Isabel
fought hard, but in the end, the weight of the last few days got to
her, and she couldn’t keep tears from forming in her eyes. She
hesitated, and then she nodded.

Crystal produced a tissue and handed it to Isabel. Isabel wiped her eyes and said, “Thanks.”

“It’s
nothing to be ashamed of, you know—running,” Crystal said. “Sometimes,
you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, know what I mean?”

Isabel nodded.

“Did someone hurt you?”

Isabel studied the table without answering.

Crystal looked at Isabel. It was silent for a minute, and then she said, “I was just like you, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I ran. I had to leave—probably about your age. What are you sixteen? Seventeen?”

“Sixteen,” Isabel said. “Yesterday was my birthday.”

Crystal smiled brightly. “Happy birthday!” Then, just as quick, her smile vanished. “Did you leave on your birthday?”

Isabel nodded, tears starting again.

“That’s dope. That takes guts,” Crystal said. “You should be proud.”

Isabel stared at her, then she looked down. “I had to leave,” she said quietly.

Crystal leaned forward. “Isabel,” she said, “look at me.”

Isabel looked up.

“It’s
like I said—I know what you mean. I had two stepbrothers who took turns
raping me for six years starting when I was ten years old,” Crystal
said. “When you say ‘I had to leave,’ I know exactly what you mean. I had to leave, too.”

Isabel stared at her. “Really?”

“Really.
I couldn’t stay another day.” Crystal rolled up the sleeve on her left
arm and revealed a series of scars. “See these? I used to cut myself to
make the pain go away.” Isabel cringed at the thought. Crystal noticed.
“You don’t cut yourself, do you?”

Isabel shook her head. “No.”

“Good
girl. A lot of girls do, you know. But it doesn’t work. The little
pain’s supposed to make the big pain go away. But it only works for a
little while. Then you find out that the big pain’s still there. And to
top it off, you’re left with these fucking scars.” She rolled her sleeve
back down. She looked at Isabel. “I understand where you’re coming
from, Isabel. I was right where you were five years ago.”

It was quiet for a few moments. Then Isabel said, “It’s my stepfather.”

Crystal nodded.

“For more than four years now.”

“Bastard. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

Isabel nodded.

“I hate how these fuckers think they can do this to us and get away with it.”

Isabel
nodded. “You really went through the same thing?” She could hardly
believe that this beautiful woman had once experienced a horror similar
to her own.

Crystal
nodded. “Really. I showed you the scars, didn’t I?” She paused. “At
least the scars that show. Most of ’em don’t, you know.”

Isabel looked at her for a second and then said, “What about now? What do you do now?”

Crystal
smiled and flipped her long hair back over her shoulder. “I got lucky,”
she said. “I met a really great guy. Now, I work with him in his
company; we do entertainment scheduling.”

“You are lucky. You’re really beautiful.”

Crystal smiled. “Thank you. But you should know—you’re as pretty as I am, sweetie. Maybe even prettier.”

“Me?” Isabel said. She found this hard to believe.

Crystal
laughed as she pretended to look around; then she returned her focus to
Isabel. “Who else is here, girl? Yeah, you. A little makeup, some nice
clothes,” she waved her hand at Isabel, “you’d have guys falling all
over you. And I mean good guys. Guys who have lots of money and who’ll
treat you right.” Crystal seemed absolutely bubbly.

Isabel
rolled her eyes. Given her situation at home, she didn’t think about
boys very often. This was more than she could even imagine.

“Isabel,”
Crystal said, leaning forward again and speaking softly. “Listen to me.
You seem like a sweet girl. And I know where you’re coming from because
I was in the exact same boat.”

Isabel nodded.

Crystal
continued. “Donnie—he’s my boyfriend—Donnie and I have a spare bedroom.
If you want, I can ask him if it’d be okay if you stay with us for a
little while—until you’re on your feet, I mean. You’d have a safe place
to stay, plenty to eat. I’ll even take you shopping for some nice
clothes.”

Isabel
hesitated. “Why would you do that?” she asked. It had been a long time
since anyone other than her friend Kelli had been nice to her. She
couldn’t help being suspicious.

Crystal
smiled. “Because I guess I see a little bit of me in you, that’s why.
And I sure wish someone would have helped me out when I was in your
situation.”

This
resonated with Isabel. Things were moving fast, but at least they
seemed to be moving in the right direction. Still, she hadn’t planned
things out this far, and she was struggling to keep up.

“By the way,” Crystal said, “if you left yesterday, where’d you stay last night?”

Isabel looked down. “Under a tree,” she said.

“Oh, sweetie,” Crystal said, smiling, “you gotta stay with us. You don’t want to do that again, do you?”

That
reminder, plus the realization that she had no other real options,
pushed Isabel over the edge. “I don’t suppose it would hurt to stay with
you guys for a while,” she said. “I don’t have any money to pay you,
though.”

Crystal smiled. “I didn’t ask you for any money, did I?”

Isabel shook her head.

Crystal reached for her purse. “Let me call Donnie and ask him, alright?”

Isabel nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

* * * *

Twenty
minutes later, Isabel and Crystal stood at the curb near the valet
parking stand. Isabel wore her backpack and carried her purse. Soon, a
white BMW 750i pulled up. All of the windows were darkened, so it was
impossible to see inside. “Here he is,” Crystal said.

Isabel
didn’t know much about cars, but she recognized the BMW logo and was
impressed. The car was very shiny—even the wheels were sparkling chrome.
The driver parked the car alongside the curb and got out. He was a
tall, very good-looking, young black man with his hair cut short. He
wore black slacks and a tight-fitting, short-sleeved black Under Armour
shirt, covered with a loose-fitting burgundy linen jacket. A large,
expensive-looking gold watch was just visible on his left wrist, peeking
out from under the sleeve of his jacket.

As
the driver walked around the front of the car to the curb, the
passenger door opened, and another young man stepped out. He was
shorter—average height and his skin was paler than the driver’s.. His
hair was straightened, gelled, and brushed back. He, too, was nicely
dressed—a sharp young man. Both men made an impression on Isabel. They
were as good-looking in their own right as Crystal was in hers. To
Isabel, they all looked like wealthy fashion models.

“Hey, baby,” the driver said as he walked up to Crystal and hugged her. “You all done?”

“Think so,” Crystal said.

“Good,”
the man said. “We are, too.” After a few moments, he glanced over at
Isabel. He let Crystal go and said, “Is this your friend?”

“Uh-huh,” Crystal said. “Donnie Martin—this is Isabel—” she turned and looked at Isabel, “—Isabel, I don’t know your last name.”

“Delgado,” Isabel said.

“Isabel Delgado,” Crystal said.

Donnie
walked over to her. He towered above her by more than a foot. “Isabel,”
he said, reaching for her small hand. “What a beautiful name.” His
voice was smooth and deep.

Isabel blushed. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s good to meet you.”

“The
pleasure is all mine,” Donnie said. His smile revealed a gleaming set
of perfectly capped white teeth. He nodded toward the other man. “This
ugly dude over here is my homeboy DeMichael. His friends—we—all call him
Mikey.”

DeMichael
stepped over and shook Isabel’s hand. Isabel thought his hands were
very soft—softer even than hers. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Isabel,”
he said. “Does everyone call you Isabel, or do you have a nickname?
Something like Belle or Bella—like that girl in Twilight?”

Isabel blushed slightly. “Some of my friends call me Izzy,” she said.

“Izzy,” he said. “That’s even better. I like that. If you’re straight with it, I’m gonna call you Izzy.”

Isabel smiled. “Okay,” she said, nodding.

DeMichael
gazed admiringly at Isabel’s hair. “Girl, you have beautiful hair,” he
said. “Long and thick and pure black.” He paused and then added, “Like
mine!”

Crystal
laughed. “Yeah, you wish. Except Izzy doesn’t have to spend a hundred
dollars and two hours getting hers straightened every two weeks.”

DeMichael reached for Isabel’s hair then stopped. “Do you mind?” he asked.

“No,” Isabel said.

DeMichael
ran his hand slowly through Isabel’s hair. “That’s dope,” he said,
seemingly in awe. “And you don’t have to do anything to get this?”

“No,” Isabel said. “That’s just how it is.”

“Damn,” he said.

“Imagine
if we hooked her up with Janeka,” Crystal said. “She can throw some
conditioner on that, and Isabel’s hair will shine like a black diamond.”

“Say,
look,” Donnie interrupted from the sidewalk at the front of the car.
“Y’all can share hair-styling secrets later. Right now, I need to talk
to Isabel for a second, and then we got to scoot.” He turned to Isabel.
“Crystal tells me you having some problems on the home front.”

Isabel looked him in the eye. “I don’t have a home,” she said. “Not anymore.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Donnie said. “Bottom line—you’re temporarily out on the streets. Right?”

“I guess.”

Donnie smiled. “Don’t have to be that way, baby—this is your lucky day. Crystal told you we got a spare bedroom.”

Isabel nodded.

“Good. You’re welcome to come stay with us for a while. Till you get yourself established. That sound okay?”

“It does,” Isabel said. “Thank you.”

Donnie smiled again. “Good. We gonna do some great things.” He looked at her backpack. “That all your stuff?”

Isabel nodded. “That’s it.”

“Y’all travelin’ light.”

“I know.”

He
shrugged. “That’ll change. Crystal’ll probably hook you up with some of
her stuff for now. Use it as an excuse to go shoppin’.”

“Hell with that,” Crystal said. “I don’t need no excuse. Me and my homey Izzy—we’re going shoppin’ anyway. Tomorrow. Right, Iz?”

Isabel
hesitated, then started to speak, but Crystal interrupted her. “I
know,” she said. “You don’t have any money for shopping.” She smiled.
“Good thing for you, I do. You can owe me. We’re going to get you all
done up. Your hair, too. You’ll be so dope, people’ll have to wear
sunglasses around you just to knock back the shine!”

Isabel smiled as DeMichael opened the back door.

“I’m riding shotgun,” Crystal suddenly called out.

DeMichael
looked at Isabel. “Guess that means me and you in the back. After you,
my dear,” he said gallantly. Isabel crawled into the back seat. She
could hardly believe her luck. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d
been shivering the night away hiding under a cedar tree to avoid the
guards and to keep from getting rained on. An hour ago, she’d been
sitting on a bench with no idea how to proceed. Now, she was sitting in a
BMW, surrounded by nice people who wanted to help her out. She smiled
as the car pulled away from the curb.

Chapter 1

“CEASE FIRE! CEASE fire!”
The Range Safety Officer’s voice thundered down the line just as the
last shooter fired his final round of the stage. The electronic
noise-canceling features in my headset were designed to muffle the sharp
reports of gunshots while still allowing voice commands to come through
loud and clear—not that Gunny Doug Owens needed any help getting his
point across. Twenty-one years in the Marine Corps prior to joining the
Seattle Police Department as head firearms instructor gave him a
“command voice” that left no confusion, no ambiguity as to the meaning
of his message. Like many of the tough old sergeants I’d known in the
army, Gunny Owens didn’t so much speak when he was on the range; he
barked. It reminded me of basic training at Fort Benning.

I
lowered my Les Baer Thunder Ranch Model 1911 .45-caliber semiauto to a
forty-five degree angle, finger indexed along the barrel. Keeping it
pointed downrange, I turned my head quickly in each direction,
automatically scanning the area around me for new threats, just as Gunny
barked out, “Weapons to low ready!”

He
followed this up a second later with, “Unload and make safe!” The slide
on my weapon had automatically locked open when I’d fired the last
round. I pressed the magazine release button, and the empty magazine
dropped out and fell to the ground.

“After inspection by a Range Safety Officer, holster your safe weapon.”

The
RSO on my side of the line worked his way from shooter to shooter,
checking their weapons as he went and tapping them on the shoulders when
he was satisfied their weapons were completely empty, signifying it was
okay to holster their weapon. I waited my turn as the gentle breeze
cleared the smoke from the range.

When
Gunny saw that the assistant RSOs on either side of the line had
completed their inspections, he barked out “Line clear on the left?” The
assistant RSO on my side of the line held up his hand in
acknowledgment. “Line clear on the right?” The officer on the opposite
end of the line did the same.

“Good,”
Gunny said. “Ladies and gentlemen, the line is clear! You may remove
your hearing protection. Retrieve your magazines, and let’s check
targets.”

It
was a beautiful morning on June 5, 2012. The temperature was in the
high sixties, and the sky was partly cloudy. My partner, Antoinette
“Toni” Blair, and I had just fired the last sequence in the Washington
State Basic Law Enforcement Firearm Training course at the Seattle
Police Athletic Association range in Tukwila, just south of Seattle.
This is the same test issued to retired law enforcement officers
annually and, other than Toni and me, the thirteen guys on the line were
all retired police officers. Thanks to the Law Enforcement Officers
Safety Act that Congress passed in 2004, successfully passing this test
gave these retired officers the right to carry concealed weapons almost
anywhere in the nation. Can you say instant extended police force? At no
additional cost? Clearly, this was one of Congress’s smarter moves, if
you ask me. Of course, Toni and I were not law enforcement officers, so
passing the test wouldn’t give us the same privileges. But the practice
kept us sharp, and it helped keep our insurance premiums low. And if,
God forbid, we ever had to shoot anyone, regular documented training
would probably help us legally. We were fortunate that my friends at
Seattle PD allowed us to train with them and use the range.

I
reached down and picked up my empty magazine, dusted it off, and put it
in my pocket. Toni was two shooters to my left; I saw her do the same
thing. At twenty-seven years old, she’d just had a birthday two weeks
ago. She was dressed in camouflage-print fatigue-style pants that had no
business looking as good as they did on her, green tactical boots, and a
beige long-sleeved T-shirt that had an American flag and Made in the U.S.A.
printed on it in big, bold red letters across the chest—just in case
you were having trouble noticing the way she filled out the shirt
(which, I suppose, would have been pretty good proof that you were
legally blind). The other guys didn’t know it, but I knew that the long
sleeves covered a full-sleeve tattoo on her left arm and a delicate
little Celtic-weave tat on her right. Her thick, dark hair was covered
with a backward-facing baseball cap, itself covered with her
ear-protection headset. She wore yellow-tinted shooter’s glasses. She
looked like a Victoria’s Secret model at a gun show—she was distracting
as hell, and I was glad there was space between us. When we straightened
up, she caught me looking and she smiled.

Oops.
This wasn’t one of her “I love you” smiles or even one of her playful
ones, for that matter. We’ve been friends for a long time—I’ve known her
for more than five years. I’ve seen her use about twenty different
smiles—she’s got one for every occasion. I know most of them pretty
well, but as for this one, her meaning was quite clear. She was giving
me the nasty, evil little grin that usually comes when we’re locked in
competition. We both hate to lose, and shooting qualifications bring out
our competitive natures. She looked pretty smug—must have fired another
clean stage. I turned away and started walking downrange to inspect my
target.

“Holy
crap, Nichols!” Gunny yelled as he inspected the first shooter’s
target. “You do know you’re supposed to be shooting target number one,
right? You fired five rounds, but I only see three damn holes!” He
turned and looked at the next target on the line. “You got any extra
holes on your target?” he said to that target’s shooter. “Nope?” He
turned back to the first unlucky guy. “Nichols, you had two rounds off
the whole damn target! That’s pathetic. Ten points each—it’s going to
cost you a twenty-point penalty.” He shook his head with disgust.
“What’s worse, if this were real life, that means you’d be the proud
owner of two .40-caliber projectiles flying through the air at 1,100
feet per second looking for something solid to hit besides their
intended target.” He looked at the sheepish shooter. “You understand
that’s bad, right?”

The man nodded. “Sorry, Gunny.”

“Yeah, you are,” Gunny nodded in agreement. “Looks like we’ll be seeing you back here this afternoon.”

Gunny
moved down the line, examining each shooter’s target. His comments were
usually short and to the point. “You pushed this one,” or “You flinched
before you pulled the trigger here, see? Caused you to jerk low left.”
The shooters—all experienced police officers with years and years of
training—listened carefully. Gunny Owens was held in universal high
esteem. He’d forgotten more about shooting than most of us would ever
know.

He
reached Toni’s target and stared at it for a second. “Holy hell, she’s
doing it again!” he called out. The other shooters turned to look at
Toni’s target. “This young lady,” he said, “—a civilian, I might
add—qualifies on this very course every ninety days without fail. And I
have never—I repeat never—seen her put a round outside the ten ring.
Look at this shooting here. Y’all should do so well. Excellent! Well
done, young lady.” Toni smiled demurely. “A solid 250,” Gunny said.
“Perfect score.”

Gunny
continued down the line until he reached my target. He examined it
carefully, counting the number of holes. When he was finished, he turned
to me. “Staff Sergeant Logan, did you yank one off the target?” Gunny
liked to call me by my former military rank.

“Hell
no, Gunny,” I said. “Look here.” I pointed to one of the bullet holes
in the center of the target that was a bit more oblong than the others.

Gunny
leaned forward and inspected the hole. “Oh, yeah,” he said, smiling. “I
see. Same damn hole.” He stood up. “Folks, listen up! Another perfect
score from the other civilian in the group.” He paused for a moment, and
then he continued. “Although technically, I ain’t sure you can call him
a civilian—he’s former U.S. Army 101st Airborne. It don’t happen often,
but from time to time, the army turns out a damn fine shooter. Right,
son?” That was about as high a compliment as an army grunt’s likely to
get out of a marine (MARINE: “Muscle are Required—Intelligence Not
Essential”).

“Hooah, Gunny!” I yelled out. You better believe it.

“Damn right,” he said, nodding his head sharply. He turned and continued his inspection.

After
he finished with the last shooter, he returned to the center of the
line. “Gentlemen, and Ms. Blair,” he said, “Y’all gather round.” When
we’d formed in a group around him, he said, “One of y’all’s coming back
this afternoon.” He turned to the offender. “That’s you, Nichols. I want
you to practice with Officer Mendez here,” he pointed at one of his
assistant RSOs, “right after lunch: 1300 hours. If you’re ready, you’ll
get another shot at qualifying at 1400. We’ll see if you can keep all
your rounds on your own target this time.” He looked at the rest of us.
“As for the rest of you—you’ve all officially qualified.
Congratulations.” The men nodded their heads quietly. They’d done this
before and most were good—if not very good—shooters.

“Before you leave, though, we do have a dilemma,” Gunny continued. “We have a tie for top honors—two perfect scores.” Here we go, I thought. Same as last time.
“And as some of you may know, I don’t like to end things with a tie. No
closure that way. So what say we have ourselves a quick little
tiebreaker shoot-out?”

“Yeah!” the men agreed enthusiastically.

“Good. Randy—do me a favor and throw a couple of clean targets on lanes three and four, would you? The rest of you, follow me.”

Gunny
walked us back past the fifteen-yard marker where we’d fired the last
sequence. He kept walking, past the twenty-five yard marker until he
reached a marker that said thirty-five yards. “We’ll do it from here,”
he said. “Make it interesting. A little over one hundred feet—a real test.
Ms. Blair—you’re on number three. Staff Sergeant Logan—you’re on lane
four. Everybody else: behind the line.” I looked downrange at the small
targets. One hundred feet is a long pistol shot if you have something
solid to brace against. Without a brace, it was really long.

He
waited until the targets were set and everybody was behind us. “Okay,
you two,” he said. “I want you to load one round—and one round only—into
a magazine. This will be a one shot, do-or-die competition. We’ll run
you through one at a time. Who wants to go first?”

“I will,” Toni said quickly. I looked at her, and we locked eyes. She no doubt was trying to psych me out. Good luck with that.

“Ladies
first, then,” Gunny said. “Oh, I forgot. We’ll use the electronic
timer. You’ll start from the low ready position, two hand grip—or one
hand if you want. Your choice of stances. When the timer beeps, you’re
to raise your weapon and fire. You’ll have two seconds to get your shot
off before the timer beeps again. If you go over, the timer will tell
us, and you’ll be DQ’d. So don’t go over time.”

Two
seconds! Two seconds was very fast from thirty-five yards. I glanced at
Toni. If she was concerned, she didn’t show it. She was already
concentrating on the target.

“You two ready?” We nodded.

“Okay, everyone. Hearing protection on!” Gunny reverted to command voice.

“Shooter number one, at this time, load and make ready!” Toni slapped a magazine into her Glock 23 and cycled the slide.

“Shooter, assume a low ready position!”

Toni crouched down, her weapon held before her pointed toward the ground at a forty-five degree angle.

“Shooter, watch your target!”

BEEP! The electronic timer sounded. Toni instantly raised her weapon, sighted, and one second later, fired. BOOM!, followed nearly instantly by BEEP! as the timer sounded again. Toni had beaten the clock by a fraction of a second.

Everyone
looked downrange and strained to see the bullet hole in the target.
“One point eight seven seconds, and she’s in the bottle,” Gunny called
out, “chin level, just a hair right of center. Seven points. That’s fine
shooting from thirty-five yards, young lady. Especially in under two
seconds.” The “bottle” is the broad, bottle-shaped area of the target
that includes the upper torso and the neck up to the center of the head.
Toni’s shot was very nearly right on the centerline in the “neck” of
the bottle, but it fell midway between the four-inch diameter “ten” ring
centered around the top of the target’s nose and the six-inch diameter
“ten” ring centered around the target’s heart—in other words, just under
the chin. It was an outstanding shot, but looking at Toni, I could tell
right away she was not happy. She felt me staring, turned to me, and
stuck her tongue out.

“The
bad guy is definitely down,” Gunny said. “Probably for good, I’d say.
But—with a score of seven,” he smiled with a nasty grin, “the door got
left open for the staff sergeant just a hair. Ms. Blair, go ahead and
unload and make safe.” Toni released her empty magazine and held her
pistol up for inspection by one of the assistant RSOs. He patted her on
the shoulder, and she holstered her weapon. The RSO turned to Gunny and
raised his hand.

“The line is clear,” Gunny said. “Let’s see if shooter number two can take advantage.”

As I stepped up to the line, Toni said, “Check your fly, dude.” I smiled. Psych!

I
was in a tough spot. This was going to be a difficult shot. I like to
win as much as she does. Lord knows she would’ve liked nothing better
than to beat me on the firing range. In four years, it had never
happened before. If she won one, she’d be delighted. This could be a
good thing. Maybe it was her time. Thinking about it made me consider
maybe giving her one—pulling the shot on purpose. But if I did that, I
still needed to make it close. She knows I’m a good shot, and if she
suspected I’d thrown the round, she’d have my ass. I made my decision.

“Shooter
number two, load and make ready!” I slapped the magazine with the
single round into my sidearm, released the slide, and lowered the weapon
to the low ready position.

“Shooter, watch your target!” I crouched and tightened my grip.

BEEP!
All at once, the outside world seemed to recede. Everything switched to
slow motion and all my training kicked in. As my arms came up to
target, my right thumb pushed the safety lever to the off position.
During the same motion, I took one deep breath, then held it. My arms
steadied on the target. My eyes instantly found the front sight, and the
front sight centered on the target’s head. With all my concentration, I
focused on the front sight. Steady. Squeeze. BOOM! The round fired. BEEP! The timer sounded. I didn’t need to look.

* * * *

We
said our good-byes to Gunny Owens at 11:00 and jumped in my red Jeep
for the drive back to our office. Our company is Logan Private
Investigations—or Logan PI, as we like to call it. We have a small
office on Westlake Avenue on Lake Union, right in the middle of Seattle,
less than a mile from I-5. Unfortunately, the south end of Lake Union
where we’re located was currently wrecked by construction. Microsoft
cofounder Paul Allen had decided to single-handedly rebuild Seattle, and
he was starting with the South Lake Union area. As a result, traffic
was stop-and-go. Actually, more stop than go—it was going to take a
while. I hit the play button on the MP3 player, and the sound of a very
sweet piano started to flow from the speakers.

Toni listened carefully when the singer started. “Is that—is that Brandi Carlile?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“I’ve never heard this before.”

“I know. That’s because it’s brand-new. It’s called Bear Creek. Just released today. This song is called ‘That Wasn’t Me.’”

She listened for a minute, tapping her foot to the beat. Then she said, “Awesome. I love it. She sounds like Adele.”

I considered this. “Yeah a little, maybe. On this song, anyway. Maybe a bit more country.”

We
listened to the new music for a minute while we waited for the traffic
to move. Toni’s cell phone rang, and I turned the music down.

“Okay,”
she said into the phone. “Tell her to wait. We’re down by the park—only
about a half mile away. As soon as traffic moves, we’ll be there.”

She hung up and turned to me. “That was Kenny. He says Kelli’s at the office.”

Kelli—Racquel
Genevieve Blair—is Toni’s eighteen-year-old little sister. I hadn’t
seen Kelli in a couple of months, although we’d been planning to go to
her high school graduation the following week.

“He say what she wants?” I asked.

“She wants to talk. To you and me both.”

Curious.

* * * *

Twenty-five
minutes later, we walked into our office. No one was in the lobby, so
we made our way toward the back, where we heard laughter coming from the
office of Kenny Hale—our technology guru. I followed Toni into Kenny’s
office. He was at his desk with Kelli sitting across from him.

“Hey, guys,” Kenny said when we entered.

“’Sup?” I said, looking from Kenny to Kelli. “Hey, Kelli.”

Kelli
and Toni look the same but different. Bear with me—I haven’t lost my
mind here. Toni’s tall—a solid five foot eight. Kelli’s a touch
shorter—maybe five seven or so. Both girls have striking
figures—something they inherited from their mom, I suppose (although I’m
not sure I’m supposed to have noticed that). Both have thick, dark
hair, although Kelli’s is long with no bangs and more of a brunette
color, while Toni’s is more mid-length with long bangs and almost black.
The biggest, most noticeable difference, though, is not their height or
their hair, but their eyes. Toni’s eyes are a brilliant blue—the color
of the Hope Diamond. Kelli’s are a deep emerald green. Both are
beautiful. So, like I said—the girls look the same but definitely
different.

“Hi, Danny,” she said. She turned to Toni. “Hey, sis.”

Toni
walked over to Kelli. “Hi, sweetie,” she said, leaning forward and
hugging her sister. She straightened up and eyed Kenny warily. “I see
you’ve met Kenny.” Kelli probably missed the look. I didn’t.

“Yeah,” she said. “We’ve just been talking.”

Kenny’s
a young guy—he just turned twenty-six a couple of months ago. He’s
maybe five eight and a buck fifty soaking wet. He’s got an unruly mop of
dark hair that he pushes over to one side. In fact, he looks just like
what he is—the quintessential computer geek. When it comes to anything
to do with computers, Kenny’s the real deal. He’s got aptitude and
native talent that’s off the charts. He grew up with computers in ground
zero of the computer world: Redmond, Washington. I’m not certain, but
I’d be willing to bet his first toy was a laptop. Knowing Kenny, he
probably took it apart, tricked it out some way, and then put it back
together. He’s got to be one of the most brilliant PC dudes in the
Pacific Northwest. His consulting services are in high demand—I’m sure
he makes at least as much moonlighting for the big tech companies around
here as he does from his Logan PI paycheck. Still, lucky for us, he
likes the excitement of detective work. I say “lucky for us” because
computer skills are a near prerequisite for PI firms these days.

Despite
the fact that he’s no physical specimen, Kenny is surprisingly
successful with the ladies. I have a theory about this. I think that
like a lot of nerdy guys, he was probably teased in high school by the
jocks and shunned by their pretty cheerleader girlfriends. Back then,
geeks were people to be, if not outright, scorned, at least avoided.
Now, seven or eight years down the road, presto-chango! Role reversal!
Now the smart-guy propeller-heads like Kenny have all the money and run
around in their Porsche Cayenne Turbos. Now it’s their turn to date the
pretty girls while the majority of high school jocks (meaning all those
who didn’t get Division I scholarships) work low-paying, manual labor
jobs (if they can still find them). Kenny was simply playing his new
role for all he was worth. It’s just a theory. Anyway, I like him. He’s a
good guy with a good heart.

Toni
feels the same way, but to her, Kenny’s a target she can’t resist for
some good-natured teasing. She teases him about his hair, his height,
his weight, even his girlfriends. And he gives as good as he gets. He
teases her about her hair, her height, her tattoos, and—until
recently—her lack of boyfriends. Normally, there’s a good-natured banter
between the two of them. Today, though, Toni’s little sister was here
to talk about something, and no doubt, Toni wondered if Kenny had tried
to put some kind of move on Kelli while they’d been waiting for us. I
doubted this—Kenny goes out with younger women to be sure, but even
Kenny has a lower age limit, which seems to be twenty-one or so. But
what the hell. Toni’s the big sister, and it’s her job to be
protective—thus, the stink eye. It continued, even as I led Kelli out of
Kenny’s office to our conference room.

Kenny noticed. “What?” he mouthed silently, holding up his hands.

Toni glared at him for a second, then she turned and followed us. Message sent.

* * * *

“So,” I said, when we entered the conference room. “Long time no see, Kelli. I haven’t seen you since your birthday.”

“I know,” she said. She looked at Toni then back at me. “You guys had just started going out. I’m so happy for both of you.”

Toni smiled. “Thanks, sis. We’re happy, too.”

“And now it’s time for graduation,” I said. “You all ready to go?”

“Sure am,” she said.

“You feel happy or sad?” I asked.

“Happy. Definitely happy.”

I smiled. “That’s good. What’re you going to do?”

“I’m going to U-Dub,” she said. “I start in the fall. I’ve already been admitted.”

“Cool!” I said. “Outstanding! Do you know what you want to study yet?”

“Yep.
I’m thinking LSJ—same as you guys.” The University of Washington offers
a four-year bachelor’s degree in something they call Law, Societies,
and Justice. Basically, it’s a fancy name for a criminal justice degree.
Toni and I met in early 2007 when we were seniors in the LSJ program. I
was still in the army, finishing my last year as a CID special agent.
It’s a good education if you want to make law enforcement your career.

“LSJ—that’s cool,” I said. “Are you thinking about police work?”

“Pre-law,” Kelli said. “I want to be a DA.”

I smiled. “Excellent. Somebody to put the bad guys away. You’ll make a great DA. Runs in your family, I think.”

Toni smiled.

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Kelli said.

“Well, that’s good,” I said. I leaned back in my chair. “So what brings you here today?”

Her mood sobered quickly. Where she’d been happy and smiling a moment before, she suddenly turned somber.

“I have a friend,” she said. “I think she’s in trouble.”

Toni
eyed her suspiciously, not certain if Kelli was referring to herself
when she said “a friend” and, if she was, trying to determine what she
meant by “in trouble.” Pregnant maybe? Big sister switching back into
protective mode, I suppose.

“What kind of trouble,” Toni said.

“I think my friend Isabel’s been kidnapped,” Kelli said.

Whoa!
That came out of left field! Toni and I both looked at Kelli as we
scrambled to catch up mentally. “What do you mean, you think she’s been
kidnapped?” Toni said.

“Hold
up for a second,” I said, raising my hand. “Don’t answer that just
yet.” Both girls looked at me. “Since the conversation’s headed this
direction, let me grab a couple of notepads, so we can take notes and do
this the right way.”

Toni looked at me for a second, and then she said, “Good idea.”

I
took a couple of steno pads from the credenza behind the conference
room table. While I was up, I grabbed three bottles of water.

“Kelli,
why don’t you start from the very beginning,” I said as I sat back
down. “Go slow. Give us plenty of details. Everything you can remember.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Start by giving us Isabel’s personal data. What’s her full name?” I asked.

“Isabel Delgado.”

“Do you know if she has a middle name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Address?”

“She lives at 4268 192nd Street in Lynnwood.”

Categories Thriller of the Week Tags ,

Award Winning Thriller Alert! 50 Rave Reviews For Joan Hall Hovey’s Nowhere to Hide – Dare to Challenge A Merciless Killer

Nowhere to Hide

by Joan Hall Hovey

4.4 stars – 58 Reviews
Or currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members Via the Kindle Lending Library
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled

Here’s the set-up:

Books We Love’s Nowhere to Hide won an Eppie award as the Best Thriller

Raised in an atmosphere of violence and unpredictability, Ellen and Gail Morgan have banded together, survivors of a booze-fertilized battleground, forming a fierce united front against an often cold and uncaring world. When their parents are killed in a car crash, Ellen becomes the mother figure for Gail.

When fifteen years later Gail is brutally raped and murdered in her shabby New York basement apartment, practically on the eve of her big breakthrough as a singer, Ellen is inconsolable. Rage at her younger sister’s murder has nearly consumed her. So when her work as a psychologist wins her an appearance on the evening news, Ellen seizes the moment. Staring straight into the camera, she challenges the killer to come out of hiding: “Why don’t you come after me? I’ll be waiting for you.”

Phone calls flood the station, but all leads go nowhere. The police investigation seems doomed to failure. Then it happens: a note, written in red ink, slipped under the windshield wipers of her car, ‘YOU’RE IT.’ Ellen has stirred the monster in his lair … and the hunter has become the hunted!

Reviews

“This one is a chiller. You won’t be able to put it down–guaranteed!” — Rendezvous Magazine

“If you are looking for the suspense thriller of the year-look no further…you will find it in Nowhere To Hide…” – Jewel Dartt Midnight Scribe Reviews

About The Author

In addition to her critically acclaimed novels, Joan Hall Hovey’s articles and short stories have appeared in such diverse publications as The Toronto Star, Atlantic Advocate, Seek, Home Life Magazine, Mystery Scene, The New Brunswick Reader, Fredericton Gleaner, New Freeman and Kings County Record. Her short story Dark Reunion was selected for the anthology investigating Women, Published by Simon & Pierre.

Ms. Hovey has held workshops and given talks at various schools and libraries in her area, including New Brunswick Community College, and taught a course in creative writing at the University of New Brunswick. For a number of years, she has been a tutor with Winghill School, a distance education school in Ottawa for aspiring writers.

She is a member of the Writer’s Federation of New Brunswick, past regional Vice-President of Crime Writers of Canada, Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.

Visit Joan’s website at http://www.joanhallhovey.com/.

(This is a sponsored post.)

Looking For Some Advice? – Aren’t We All? – We Have Hundreds of FREE & Bargain Titles on Our Advice & How-To Search Pages, All Sponsored by Charles Collins 5-Star Making a Masterpiece of Your Life

We’re excited to share our Advice & How-To Book of the Month for the very first time here at Kindle Nation, to sponsor all the great bargains on our Advice & How-To search pages.

 

Thousands of Kindle Nation citizens are using our magical search tools to find great reading in the Free, Quality 99-Centers, and Kindle Lending Library categories. Just use these links to search for great Advice & How-To titles at great prices:

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4.9 stars – 7 Reviews
Or currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members Via the Kindle Lending Library
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Your Life is a Masterpiece for the Making

No mission is more important. No adventure, more rewarding.

Anyone can make a ‘masterpiece’ of their lives and skillfully practice ‘life’ as a balanced, integrated ‘craft’ – rather than the all too common experience of muddling through life as a random collection of unrelated experiences. And, know ahead of time exactly what the curriculum is for your entire life (and for teaching your children), vs. passing through life by ‘intuition’ (i.e.) “flying by the seat of your pants”.

Your life is unique, and in the primary care of a single craftsperson. You are that craftsperson. To shape your life into a ‘masterpiece’ – a ‘work of art’ – requires training, practice and the skillful application of the tools of the craft to make a masterpiece of your life.

To practice the whole of ‘life-as-a-craft’, the way a craftsperson mindfully practices the trade of textile weaving, medicine, or carpentry, requires that the myriad activities of the ‘craft of life’ be systematically organized, managed, taught and learned similar to the ways in which we organize, manage, teach and practice our trades, occupations and professions.

Drawing upon centuries of knowledge and practical experience by master craftsmen and craftswomen, Charles Collins has skillfully organized a complete body of life knowledge into Five Elements, providing you with the guidance and motivation to practice ‘life-as-a-craft’.

The Five Elements:
Masterpiece Element 1: Family Heritage
Masterpiece Element 2: Family Management
Masterpiece Element 3: Family and Personal Finance
Masterpiece Element 4: The Human Being
Masterpiece Element 5: Tools for Living

Each Element contains a collection of short ‘briefs’ on subjects ranging from family history (genealogy) and home management, to personal appearance, money management, setting goals for your life and using the right tools for the job.

What – ‘Making a Masterpiece of Your Life’ – Delivers:

1. A System: As a system Making a Masterpiece of Your Life is designed to organize – in one convenient place – all the bits and pieces of “wisdom” about life that you find scattered about in books, on tapes, at seminars, and “advice” from parents, relatives, and friends. It is a flexible and practical tool to meet the needs of the task at hand.

2. A Practice: As a practice Making a Masterpiece of Your Life is designed to help you practice balance among the distinct but interconnected “Five Elements” of life as an individual, and as a member of the families we all belong to.

Reviews

“Every once in awhile a book is destined to become a classic. This is one of those books.” —Dick Hoffman, Author, “INTIMACY: 45 Minutes to an Intimate Life”

“Thank you very much for providing me with the info I wanted. It is a beautiful story.” —Deborah Critzer, Positive Parenting

“The Canadian Crime Prevention Centre strongly encourages people to take responsibility for their own lives and to stop being victims. Your material gives people a hands-on approach for taking control of their lives and the lives of their children.” —Diana Stinn, Program Director

“I am much impressed . . . It is full of most wonderful advice – and is so neutral in bias, too. I feel your resources have much to offer in a wholesome way. —Elizabeth for Motherheart

About The Author

Charles P. Collins is the author of Making a Masterpiece of Your Life: The Craftsman’s Way of the Art & Science of Skillful Living.

Collins received his degree in business and political communication from Emerson College, Boston in 1976, and continued his education in intercultural communication at Georgetown University, Washington D.C. in 1980. He has spent the balance of his career living and working primarily outside the USA, as an international business executive where he has made major contributions in the fields of international commerce and business performance management.

He writes; “One day in the early 1990’s, when my daughter was about 8 years old, I realized the questions she was asking about “where do we come from?” and “why is this the way it is?” were requiring real answers. Answers that made sense. Not the simple ‘fairy tale’ answers I could get away with just a few years earlier. And, at that moment I came face to face with the fact that I didn’t have the kind of quality answers I really wanted to give her. After all, she is my daughter and I wanted to fill her head with the best possible content I could find. And so it began. The result several years later is ‘Making a Masterpiece of Your Life’.”

Five other books currently in development will complement ‘Making a Masterpiece of Your Life’; Book 6 in the LIFECRAFT Collection.

To learn more visit: www.facebook.com/MyLifeMasterpiece

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Four Free Kindle Titles – Download These Freebies: Shirley Martin’s Shirley Martin Trilogy Secrets of the Night, Amanda Robson’s 31 Superb & Easy Chicken Salad Recipes You Can Rely On, Jon Bjarnason & John Kendrick Bangs’ The Spirit of Christmas and You and Tara Janzen’s Dateline: Kydd and Rios

Here are a few books that have just gone free by authors who have already proven to be  favorites with Kindle Nation readers. Please grab them now if they looks interesting to you, because they probably won’t stay free for long!

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*  *  *

5.0 stars – 1 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Books We Love is pleased to offer a Shirley Martin Special Edition containing the novels, Night Shadows, Night Secrets and One More Tomorrow. Secrets of the Night is a special edition collectible.

Night Shadows
Fianna leaves home to escape having to marry a man she doesn’t love. She travels to another city, far away, hoping to escape detection. There she meets Gaderian, but she doesn’t realize he is a vampire. Forced to support herself, she works as a fortune teller in a tavern, and there she meets Gaderian again. She is caught between three different men who want her, each for his own reason. The demon, Stilo, wants her as his sex slave. Angus, the man she refused to marry, won’t give up in his search for her. And in a realm where vampires and demons battle for supremacy, she is trapped in a dangerous game, where someone is bound to lose his life.

Night Secrets
Fear and betrayal threaten the kingdom of Avador. Keriam, a princess with supernatural powers, must save her father from assassination. But can she trust Roric, or is he part of the plot?

Roric loved once and lost. He wants to put his past behind him and love Princess Keriam, but he fears she is a witch. And witchcraft is forbidden in the kingdom. If found guilty, she will be burned at the stake. Not even her father could save her.

One More Tomorrow
Destined to live in darkness, Galan must defeat the evil Moloch to regain mortality and win the love of the mortal woman, Stephanie.
“An intriguing tale of two lovers destined to be together.” ~ Romantic Times

*  *  *

4.9 stars – 8 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

31 Superb & Easy Chicken Salad Recipes You Can Rely On’ is a collection of family favorite chicken salads that have also proved popular with friends and guests.

They recipes are tasty and nutritious yet they are quick and easy to prepare, making them the ideal companion for anyone, but more especially for the busy mum, whose time is extremely precious. The collection cuts across continents and cultures to bring you the best of the best.

*  *  *

Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

“Be the Present by Being Present”

This book should be read with the Christmas season in mind. It teaches in part how you can, as a busy and active 21st century business owner, executive, entrepreneur or leader, give your family the special gift of YOU. Giving you a step-by-step guide of “being the present by being present.” It also portrays the classic meaning of Christmas — a meaning we sometimes tend to forget in the hustle and bustle of modern life. This meaning is not found in new toys and gadgets, but in the importance of family.

*  *  *

Dateline: Kydd and Rios

by Tara Janzen

4.7 stars – 3 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

Blond, beautiful, and nothing but trouble, nobody knew more about finding a story in war-torn San Simeon than Nikki Kydd, and as long as the stories had kept coming, photojournalist Josh Rios hadn’t minded the trouble – until the green-eyed angel found her way into his heart. After three years as partners, and unable to resist her any longer, Josh orders the wild, young beauty back to the States.

But with her mother imprisoned in San Simeon, no force on earth can make Nikki leave the country, not even the man she loves. With her back against the wall, she makes a bargain with the devil, and prays she and Josh won’t both pay the price. Will her reckless betrayal destroy the passion they shared one hot, tropical night…or is one night never enough for two souls entwined by fate?

DATELINE: KYDD AND RIOS, originally published by Bantam Loveswept, 1990

Looking For Free YA Titles? Check Out Kids Corner @ Kindle Nation Daily!

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100 Rave Reviews for Alarm Clock, Calendar, ToDo List, Nightstand – Productivity Helper app from 7 Dragons … Just $1.00 on Kindle Fire

It’s a special treat when we can welcome a sponsor whose product has been providing us with hours of helpful satisfaction for months, and that is certainly the case with the Alarm Clock, Calendar, ToDo List, Nightstand – Productivity Helper app from 7 Dragons –A whole personal assistant now available for Kindle Fire.

Here’s the set-up:

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  • Meet all your productivity needs with one app
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  • Backup to file or email out backups

Reviews

“This app is excellent for planing out a week of work to months of work. I like the idea that you can check off the task once completed.” – Amazon Reviewer, 5 Stars

“I couldn’t believe all of the things you can do with this app. You have a calendar, a clock, a to do list, able to set days with appts. And an ALARM!! I was getting ready to buy a clock radio, and I discovered this app. Best thing aside from my Kindle Fire, of course, that I have!” – Amazon Reviewer, 5 Stars

“I was looking for a Kindle Fire alarm and I got a whole personal assistant! I can easily connect it with google calendar, keep my to do lists organized and used my downloaded music as alarm sounds. LOVE IT!” – Amazon Reviewer, 5 Stars

(This is a sponsored post.)

Free Book Alert for December 10: 475 brand new Freebies in the last 24 hours added to Our 3,950+ Free Titles sorted by Category, Date Added, Bestselling or Review Rating! plus … James L. Conway’s Sexy Babe (Today’s Sponsor – $2.99)

Powered by our magical Kindle free book tool, here are this morning’s latest additions to our 3,950+ Kindle Free Book listings. Occasionally a title will continue to appear on this list for a short time after it is no longer free on Kindle. ALWAYS check the price on Amazon before making a purchase, please! If a book is free, you should see the following: Kindle Price: $0.00
But first, a word from ... Today's Sponsor
Conway has set this delicious (and irreverent) mystery against a Hollywood that only a true insider could understand... a reality check for anyone blinded by the false mystique of "Hollywood".
Sexy Babe
by James L. Conway
4.8 stars - 8 reviews
Supports Us with Commissions Earned
Currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here's the set-up:
Grace Taylor is an adorable young actress trying to make it in Hollywood. But she’s having a really bad day. She is dumped by her boyfriend, fired by her agent, and kicked out of her apartment – then things get really nasty…

Grace comes to the rescue of friend, Madison, a gorgeous redhead with a deadly secret. During the struggle Grace kills a man in self-defense – a dangerous man with a lot of dangerous friends – forcing Grace and Madison to run for their lives.

Pursued by the mob, wanted by the cops and the FBI, Grace and Madison find themselves in a firestorm of bullets, blood, betrayal, kidnapping and murder.

Sexy Babe is a wild and wicked thriller full of humor, unforgettable characters and nonstop action.
One Reviewer Notes:
I really enjoyed this book and give it five stars. I found it to be quite witty. I enjoyed the twists as well. The fact that I am a criminal defense attorney in Los Angeles had me constantly recalling areas that I had dealt with in various types of cases and acknowledging similarities to situations that I encountered in my cases over the years. Mr. Conway apparently did a great deal of research.
Michael L. Adelson
About the Author
James has worked extensively as a Hollywood writer, producer and director. His credits include such TV favorites as Supernatural, Smallville, Charmed, and Star Trek: Next Generation, Deep Space 9, Voyager and Enterprise.

James also served six years as Executive Vice President of Spelling Television where he worked on over twenty TV series including such hits as 90210, Melrose Place and 7th Heaven.

James lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two daughters. James has worked extensively as a Hollywood writer, producer and director. His credits include such TV favorites as Supernatural, Smallville, Charmed, and Star Trek: Next Generation, Deep Space 9, Voyager and Enterprise. James also served six years as Executive Vice President of Spelling Television where he worked on over twenty TV series including such hits as 90210, Melrose Place and 7th Heaven. James lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two daughters.
UK CUSTOMERS: Click on the title below to download
Sexy Babe
Each day’s list is sponsored by one paid title. We encourage you to support our sponsors and thank you for considering them.
Free Contemporary Titles in the Kindle Store
Welcome to Kindle Nation’s magical and revolutionary Free Book Search Tool — automatically updated and refreshed in real time, now with Category Search! Use the drop-down menu (in red caps next to the menu bar near the top of the page) to search for free Kindle books by genre or category, then sort the list just the way you want it — by date added, bestselling, or review rating! But there’s no need to sort by price — because they’re all free!

 

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Sweet and bitter almond oil
By: radwan Abu Bakr Ahmed
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3 Times Best Selling Author in NEW Release books, Amy Perez MS Psychology # 1 Best Seller in Forensic Psychology "My new favorite author! She tackles a tough often stigmatized topic with grace, understanding and experience." "Very good read. Some suspense and a look into the mind of mental...
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Dark Angel: Episode 11
By: Amy Perez MS Psychology
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Unfortunately, schools don’t teach it. An average man everyday finds himself in at least 5-10 situations where he is in some disagreement with another. Thus, this requires him to have the essential life skill of arguing successfully to get his point heard, to get his opinion or perception...
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Want to be as confident and strong as a Navy SEAL?Download FREE with KIindle UnlimitedFor a limited time, get an awesome BONUS right after the conclusionChances are you’ve already heard of the famous US Navy SEALs – the US Navy’s primary Special Operations group. These soldiers are the elite,...
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Luke's SurpriseIs true love with your soul mate worth risking your life for?When werewolf Luke Morgan runs an errand with his brother Kelan, the last thing he expects to find at their neighbor's ranch is his soul mate. The tall, muscular ranch foreman Mark Malone is every gay man's fantasy.The only...
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A lazy son with no ambitions for the future is sent for the summer to Mannerhouse, a luxurious mansion in a stunning setting, to gain purpose in life. Little does he know, he’ll be feminized—not simply crossdressed—into a gorgeous, sexy, classy woman...almost.He becomes Felicity Dee Light and...
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From gym crush to unexpected fatherhood: can love conquer all in this steamy and heart-warming MPREG romance?When James joins the local gym, he never expects to meet Ryan, a sexy as sin alpha and personal trainer who is immediately attracted to him.James is a timid and unconfident omega, but with...
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Samhain Witch is a Short Story, Book 3.5, in the Hawthorne University Witch Series.I absolutely adore Halloween. I love the vibrant fall colors and the fun and revelry. And Samhain (Sa-win) is a major holiday for witches because it represents our new year. It’s the time when the spirit world meets...
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Free Book Alert for December 10: 475 brand new Freebies in the last 24 hours added to Our 3,950+ Free Titles sorted by Category, Date Added, Bestselling or Review Rating! plus … James L. Conway’s Sexy Babe (Today’s Sponsor – $2.99)

Kindle Daily Deal For Monday, Dec. 10 – Two Great Books … Both Under $2 Each! Ruth Downie’s Persona Non Grata: A Novel of the Roman Empire, plus Gloria Coleman’s 31 Powerful Prayers – Guaranteed To Make Tremendous Power Available and Avail Much!

But first, a word from … Today’s Sponsor

5.0 stars – 9 Reviews
Or currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members Via the Kindle Lending Library
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

This powerful but simple prayerbook will help you pray when you find yourself in circumstances where you need God’s Divine Intervention!

It will also help you to develop a consistent prayer life if you do not already have one and or encourage you to keep praying and making tremendous power available if you already have a prayer life.

Contents:

My Personal Testimony in the Introduction
Why Pray
Personal Testimonies of Answers to Prayer
Bible Verses to Remember and be Encouraged
31 Powerful Prayers (You can read out) daily if you want to or whenever you want!

Each day’s Kindle Daily Deal is sponsored by one paid title on Kindle Nation. We encourage you to support our sponsors and thank you for considering them.

 and now … Today’s Kindle Daily Deal!

Kindle Daily Deal: Persona Non Grata

The third volume in Ruth Downie’s best-selling mystery series set in the Roman Empire finds protagonist Doctor Gaius Petreius Ruso traveling home to southern Gaul. He finds his brother in law has disappeared and his family going bankrupt. When the family’s chief creditor winds up dead, the real trouble begins.

Today’s Price: $0.99 (89% off)
Learn more