Starting a new series is always fun. A whole new group of characters. A new setting. A new adventure in writing... The downside is wondering if people will like the concept. I'm currently waiting to hear if my publisher will contract my new three (possibly four) book romantic suspense series. If they don't, I'll have to decide what my next move will be. My COUNTERSTRIKE series is edgier than my other books. More danger and violence, but the romance is still strong. The first book is titled DEADLY ENCOUNTER. I'm posting the prologue below and I'd love to hear what you think. First, a little bit about the series.
Counterstrike is a
small agency of hand-picked, dedicated, exceptionally skilled men and women
whose mission is to rescue kidnap victims both domestically and abroad. The
company is top secret, existing far below any official radar, although high-level
government representatives use them on occasion in an unsanctioned capacity. The
goal of the team is to fade in and out of any situation without detection,
rescue innocents, and eliminate targets with no one the wiser. Danger is
ever-present, and the operatives have nothing and no one to rely on but their
expertise and each other.
Each book in the
series will feature a different member of the Counterstrike team who is
fighting to overcome a personal crisis. Some will leave the agency after a
traumatic event, only to be thrust into a new pressure-cooker situation. The
team is always a trusted resource when past or present members reach out for
help. Missions, per se, will not be the central focus of the stories, but a
launching point that takes each protagonist on an individual journey where they
find love while triumphing over circumstances beyond their control.
DEADLY ENCOUNTER PROLOGUE
The mission had
disintegrated into a shitstorm of epic proportions.
Jaimee Fleming
gripped the rough trunk of the palm tree with her cleated boots while sighting down
the barrel of her rifle through the infrared scope. Slowly she squeezed the
trigger. With the silencer, only a muffled piffft
sounded before she moved to the next target. A bullet whizzed past her cheek.
Without flinching, she adjusted her aim to take out the source. Piffft.
There were more
heavily-armed combatants in the compound than the team had anticipated. Hence,
the current cluster. Either the intel had been wrong, or the kidnappers were
tipped off. Either way, quietly rescuing the vice president’s godson from the
encampment where he was being held had evolved into a herculean effort.
Not that anyone on
the taskforce would turn tail and run. Counterstrike got the job done. Period.
Her nose twitched
from the earthy scent of rotting vegetation, while sweat dampened her back as
the extreme humidity made drawing each breath difficult. She ignored all the
distractions and squeezed the trigger again. Piffft.
“You got us
covered, Scarlet?” The calm voice came through her earpiece. Wolf was always
cool under pressure.
“Working on it.”
“That’ll have to
be good enough,” he responded. Gunfire erupted over the receiver. “We’re on our
way out.”
“Copy that.”
Across the
clearing, the exterior metal door of the building swung open, crashing against
the corrugated wall. Patch appeared first, identifiable by his thinner build
and fluid movements in the greenish light of her infrared scope. The team’s
medic lobbed an explosive toward a collection of oil drums.
From her perch,
Jaimee scanned the perimeter for marks as the device detonated in a fireball of
flames and smoke. Piffft.
Following close
behind Patch, Coffee took advantage of the distraction and ran full out in a
zig-zag pattern, despite the deadweight of the man slung over his shoulder. Wolf
exited the building last, covering their rear with a burst of shots as two more
guerrilla soldiers raced out of the hanger.
They had a hundred
yards of open ground to traverse before reaching the protection of the trees,
then another quarter mile on a narrow path through dense vegetation to the
pick-up point on the landing strip. Over a sudden blast of gunfire from the
rooftop, Jaimee detected the faint drone of the chopper, even as her heartbeat
slowed and her hands steadied. She picked off another target. Piffft.
Did I get them all?
A flash to her
left caught her eye as a shot echoed. Below her, Coffee went down only a few yards
from relative safety.
Noooooooo. The silent scream reverberated in her
head as she sighted and pulled the trigger. Piffft.
She didn’t need the thud of a body hitting the jungle floor below to confirm
the kill. She never missed.
Barely slowing his
stride, Wolf bent to heave the man they’d come to rescue over his shoulder
before motioning to Patch. The medic ran back to lift Coffee into his arms while
Jaimee shimmied down the palm to the ground. Seconds later, she reached the
rest of her team.
“Go, Scarlet. I’ve
got him.”
After a brief
hesitation, her training kicked in, and she followed orders. With a nod, she sprinted
after Wolf toward the chopper hovering above the landing strip. The Huey
lowered to the stretch of packed earth hacked out of the jungle. Palm fronds
whipped back and forth in the powerful draft but couldn’t begin to compete with
the storm raging inside her.
Covering the final
distance at a pace that would have thrilled her old track coach, Jaimee
clambered aboard the craft and turned to help ease Coffee into the open
interior. Patch had just hoisted himself up onto the metal floor beside her when
the chopper lifted off.
She forced out words
that nearly choked her. “Is he . . .”
The medic ripped
open his patient’s jacket. “He’s in bad shape. Toss me that bag behind you. I
need to get pressure on this wound.”
Jaimee handed him
the first aid kit, knowing Patch would ask for additional help if he needed it.
Needing to do something—anything but vainly sit there—she reached out to hold her
unconscious colleague’s hand. Calloused fingers that could deftly stroke the
strings of a guitar—and on one occasion the side of her breast—were limp within
her grasp. In the dim glow from the interior lights, she locked gazes with Wolf.
Their team leader’s rugged face beneath black paint looked like it was carved from
stone. Neither spoke as Patch worked frantically to save the man they all
loved.
Only Jaimee’s
feelings went far deeper than brotherhood and camaraderie.
A minute later,
the doc sat back on his heels and shook his head.
Jaimee suppressed
a cry as she tightened her grip on Coffee’s hand. Closing her eyes, she rested
her head against the side of the vibrating beast carrying them high over the
jungle. Her chest ached with a pain so intense breathing became a challenge.
She wouldn’t let the tears fall, wouldn’t give in to the anguish tearing her
apart. She wouldn’t show she was soft. Weak.
“You’d better see
what you can do for Boylston, Patch. It looks like they roughed him up pretty
badly.” Wolf’s voice was even gruffer than usual.
Patch bumped against
her feet in the tight quarters as he shifted position to reach the man they’d
rescued at the cost of losing one of their own.
A life saved, and
a life gone. When she opened eyes burning with unshed tears, her gaze came to
rest on Coffee’s still face. He’d never smile at her again or laugh at one of
their inside jokes. He’d never show her with a single glance how special she
was to him. A shudder racked her body as she struggled to keep her emotions
under control. She’d allowed herself to care about him more than she should
have, and now she’d pay the price.
Not the first time
she’d lost someone she loved. But this time would be the last.
No more letting
fear eat at her soul, worrying another mission might end in disaster. No more putting
her heart on the line. The risk wasn’t worth the reward.
She was finished.
With all of it.
So, there you have it! Keep your fingers crossed for me. And if you liked the excerpt, check out my current SIREN COVE series, available at all retail sites. Links are on my WEBSITE. Happy reading!
