Mercenary
by Michele Mannon
Pub Date
 |
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Description
Sometimes in life, choices just aren't part of the plan. When fate interferes and bulldozes right over you.
That's how I felt the first time I saw him. Standing in my kitchen, soaking wet, hotter than a man has the right to be, and holding a knife.
Declan's cold, stone-cold. I can't help but want him. His presence stirs up some raw emotion within me. He seems so...alone. But is he here to kill me or save me?
He's the one man I should never want...and the one I can never forget.
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About the author
Michele Mannon has been writing romance since her first publication in 2012. A multiple recipient of Romantic Times Magazine’s prestigious TOP PICKS distinction, Michele’s books always pack a punch, leaving readers laughing out loud, or swooning and biting their fingernails at all the appropriate times.
To date, she’s written contemporary sports and spicy, enemies-to-lovers romances with a heavy dose of suspense. Her books have been sold in print, digitally, and on Audible.
Michele lives on a mountain overlooking the Delaware River, where she can be found with a glass of Riesling in her hand and a laptop on her lap. Find her online at: http://www.michelemannon.com
Contact/Connect
MicheleMannon@gmail.com
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Book Details
Mercenary is the second book in the sexy and suspenseful Deadliest Lies Novels. It is a stand-alone book yet characters, setting, and time frames overlap in all six books.
Price: $3.99 and a Kindle Unlimited Book
Short excerpt:
Madelyn
I tap my foot, thinking about all the reasons why I shouldn’t let him in. Until a healthy dose of curiosity grasps hold of me once more and I return to my door, and to spying on the stranger on my stoop.
I don’t understand how he knows I’m here—a sixth sense or something—but this time, he turns.
His head lifts.
Our eyes connect.
The heavy, humid air inside the trailer thickens like fog. Leaving me lightheaded. Breathless.
His hood is now pulled up over his head, adding to the dangerous vibe that seems to seep from his pores. His eyes cut straight through me, piercing me with their intensity. High cheekbones framing a crooked nose that’s likely been busted a time or two. There’s scruff on his chin like he’s forgotten to shave. His lips are full, yet pulled tightly into a firm, no-nonsense line.
I feel unbalanced. I had a similar feeling earlier, after being woken up from my deep sleep on the living room sofa by three loud pops. I lay there, stiff and still and a bit unnerved. Wondering if a kid had gotten hold of some fireworks. Or worse, his hands on a gun. Happy Times might not be the Ritz Plaza but it’s typically quiet and peaceful. I’d peeked outside but nothing seemed amiss.
I waited to fall back asleep for what seemed like an hour, listening for any and all suspicious sounds, ready to dial 911 at the slightest noise. Until I was certain whatever had awoken me had passed and promptly gave into my sleepiness.
The next time I looked outside, the stranger was on my stoop.
What if he’s waiting for my sister? I should find out. It’s not like he’s oblivious to how I’ve been studying him from behind the thin lace curtain.
I swallow hard, still staring at him. Aware of him and the fact that he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. And for some strange reason, I feel compelled to talk to him. I crack the door open.
“Are you here for Kylie?”
He shakes his head ever so slightly. Is that a yes or no?
Thunder sounds off in the distance. It’s definitely going to storm.
“You can wait inside for the weather to pass,” I murmur, making up my mind and throwing caution into the wind, the kind that comes rolling through Oklahoma like hell on a high breeze. “But I need you to prove you’re my sister’s friend. Otherwise, I highly suggest you seek shelter somewhere else.”
“‘Never mind the bollocks,’” he mutters in a low voice.
I blink, then burst out laughing. Oh sweet Heaven. He is a friend of Kylie’s. He’s quoted a line from one of her eclectic rock-’n-’roll T-shirts.
I open the door wider. “Come on inside.”
Either he doesn’t hear me or he’s ignoring my offer. Hard to say. It thunders again. I watch to see if he notices. Or cares. Trouble, I think, brewing right on my front step, much like the angry gray clouds rolling in.
Will he ignore them, too?
