FICTIONChildren's Fiction Classic Literature Comic and Graphic Books Drama Fantasy Free General Fiction Historical Fiction Horror Humor Mystery/Crime Poetry Romance
NONFICTIONArt, Music, & Entertainment Biography Business Children/Young Adult Cooking & Food Crafts, Hobbies & Home Education Family/Relationships General Nonfiction Geography Health/Fitness History Humor Language Arts Personal Finance Politics/Government Reference Self Improvement Social Science
Current Events Ethics Feminist Folklore Gender Studies Human Rights Multi-Cultural Philosophy Sociology Women's StudiesSpiritual/Religion Sports Technology/Science Travel True Crime
DescriptionFlorida investigative reporter, Whitney Steel, has lived in the shadow of her legendary father long enough. To prove herself she needs to find the “Big” story.
She found it.
Now it may kill her.
After receiving a lead pointing to the world's first cloned human, now a small child, Whitney vows to unravel the truth. However, sifting through the facts proves to have dangerous results, including death threats and murder.
When she's nearly killed, but is saved by undercover FBI Special Agent, Blake Neely, he refuses to let her get in the way of his own objective—at least not right away.
Caught in a lethal game between a billionaire obsessed with genetic perfection, his hit man’s thirst for retribution, and a Colombian drug lord fresh out of prison determined to make Blake pay for his twin brother’s death over a decade ago...
Can they save an innocent child before it’s too late?
Faced with tough choices, with deadly consequences for many—Whitney soon realizes that sometimes a story becomes more than just a story.
Reader Rating: Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating: Not rated
Excerpt:Whitney rounded the corner to the bank and eyed the red and white sign in the window. Her heart sank. No! The bank was closed.
She raced to the doors and pounded her fists on the glass until a well-groomed man appeared, clutching a coffee cup. “Sorry, we just closed.” He pointed to another sign. “Holiday hours.”
“Please.” She dug through her purse, pulled out a hundred dollar bill and waved the money at him. “Here. All I need is a couple of minutes to get something from my safety deposit box. Please. It’s a matter of life and death.”
The man raised an eyebrow.
No doubt, the guy thought she was a lunatic. Who could blame him? One glimpse at her reflection in the glass said it all. Hair wet and straggly, dried blood on her forehead, dirty, and pathetic looking. Right now she looked as bad as the homeless man she’d seen wandering the streets earlier.
“Lady, we’re closed. Get lost or I’ll call the police.” He shook his head and walked away.
Whitney crumpled the bill and tossed it in her purse. So her methods were a bit unorthodox but this time she’d reached an all-time low, even for her. Trying to bribe a bank employee. Think Steel. Think.
Less than a block up the street a group of young boys emerged from a store carrying bottles of pop. Any tape would be better than no tape. Some stores rented movies, right? She took off running.
Inside the store, an old woman was busy inspecting the canned food aisle while a male clerk leaned against the counter.
“Do you rent movies?”
The clerk, short and on the chunky side, pointed to the far end of the store. “At the back.”
Whitney scurried to the rear of the store, snatched a movie cover from the wire rack and raced back to the front counter. “I’ll take this one.”
While the man replaced the cover with actual movie and case, she ploughed through her purse for her wallet.
“That’ll be two-ninety-nine.” He grabbed a sales slip from under the counter. “I’ll need a driver’s license and—”
“You don’t understand. I need to buy this, not rent it.”
“Sorry, we only rent them.”
“Not today.” She slapped fifty dollars on the counter, and removed the tape from the clear plastic case. “That should cover it.”
Whitney tore out of the store and glanced over her shoulder, half expecting someone to stop her. It never happened.
Her feet pounded the sidewalk as she peeled the outer label from the tape.
This had better work. George’s life was at stake.
When she hopped in the car, she gasped. “Let’s go.”
Blake spun out of the parking lot and headed north toward the coast. “Took you a while. Problems?”
“No. No problems.” Her voice sounded convincing, even to her own ears. She drew a long silent breath, eager to calm her nerves, but an unwelcome wrestling match with her conscience kicked in. Damn it.
Tell Blake the truth. No.
This was her mess, her problem. However, if she decided to tell him, did he need to know before the exchange? Why not wait when George was safe? Technically, they had a tape, just not the right one. What could go wrong?
Crap, everything. She clutched the videotape against her chest. Oh, hell.
“The bank was closed. The tape’s fake.” There, she said it.
A muscle twitched in Blake’s jaw, and he grinned. “I know.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What? How? You followed me again?”
“No. That red sticker that says Moon Striker is a dead giveaway. Not a bad movie, either. Watched it a few weeks ago. Lots of action.”
Whitney flipped over the black tape and checked the end. He was right. She quickly scratched off the last sticker with her fingernail.
“And when were you planning on telling me, or were you?” She heard the quiver in her voice and cursed herself. Weakness made her vulnerable and that was unacceptable.
A frown of irritation creased his forehead. “Regardless if you trust me or not, at this point, I’m all you’ve got.” He shook his head. “We’ll be there soon.”
Encroaching dark clouds hugged the coastline like mist. Above the rugged cliffs, she spotted the brick-red roof of the lighthouse. The numbers on the dash blinked. Three o’clock.
Once they parked at Devil's Elbow State Park, Whitney got out and popped George’s cap on her head. A group of thirty or so cheery tourists scooted by, some with binoculars and cameras. Once the crowd passed, Blake shoved his gun in the back of his jeans.
“I’ll stay out of sight. I’m with you every step of the way.” He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. “No matter what, don’t hand over that tape until George is free. If anything goes wrong, take off the hat. That’ll be the signal for me to move in. Got it?”
Whitney nodded, staring at the videotape in her hand. Goosebumps erupted over her bare arms. God, this had better work. I can't lose George.
Blake released her and kissed her cheek. “Okay, get going. Be careful.”
Whitney drew a deep breath and started the long hike up the unpaved trail toward the fifty-six foot tower.
* * * *
Crouched in the woods on the west side of the lighthouse, Blake tightened his grip on the gun, and waited.
During his years with the Bureau, he’d only met a handful of people with as much courage as Whitney, but sometimes courage hampered sound judgment. This woman was feisty, impulsive, and far too committed. Those qualities might win her friends, but in this situation, they made her a huge liability.
Even if Nathan got his precious tape, the bastard wasn’t going to let her simply walk away. Whitney knew too much. She was a dead woman, and Blake wasn’t going to stand by and watch that happen. Once George was safe, he had to convince her to disappear for her own good.
ReflectionBy: Kim Cresswell