KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!
Damaged Heroes Book Four
BY SARAH ANDRE
Everything about this mission stinks. Including falling for his sexy new boss.
ATF supervisor Heidi Hall is still reeling from the suicide of an agent under her command, and her quest for redemption means that in this joint task force op she’s going to work extra closely with the arrogant hottie who nearly talked her into bed. But in getting past Jace’s defenses, every intimate debrief only deepens her desire. And her rookie undercover agent seems headed for disaster—personally and professionally, which will bring down both their careers.
When Jace’s intel reveals a staggering terror plot is about to go down and Heidi discovers a traitor on her team, the pair race against time to thwart the deadly conspiracy before the city is blown sky high.
Writing this book…
I enjoyed the 7 FBI/ATF memoirs I researched to get a realistic feel for the characters and setting, but it ended up being the hardest novel I’ve ever written because in early 2020 hardly anyone was talking about WS (except the 2017 Charlottesville rally) and suddenly, as I was almost done, these horrible characters manifested to life! I still had to sit with them 8 hours a day… then reread this 30 more times in editing…
FBI Special Agent Associate Jace Quinn crept through the dewy grass, breath steady, senses on high alert. His night-vision goggles depicted the green form of Case Agent Mark Hennessey leading the team toward a shingle-covered duplex some twenty yards to the right. The swish of FBI windbreakers, creak of leather holsters, and an allergic-sounding sniff from someone bringing up the rear broke the predawn stillness.
At the end of the thick boxwood hedge, Hennessey dropped to a crouch, and Jace and the six other multi-agency personnel swiftly followed.
“You two,” the case agent murmured, pointing to Gibbs and Fontana, “go ’round back. Wait for the all-clear.” They eased away.
Jace press-checked his Glock 26 for the umpteenth time. He was so damn ready for this takedown. The intensive four-month investigation, mired in dead ends and mounting frustration, had finally yielded a suspect: Thomas Bradley. This morning’s arrest warrant would hopefully uncover evidence that Bradley was the mastermind behind the Mosque Mohammed bombings that had killed two hundred and forty-five Muslims last June. The success of this dedicated task force was about to explode across international headlines. Today was for the history books.
“On my signal.” Hennessey’s harsh whisper floated back to the team. As one, they resumed their stooped positions and threaded their way to the edge of the quaint, whitewashed porch. “Go, go, go!”
Hennessey dove to the left of the door, Jace plastered himself opposite, and the four men barreled forward with the battering ram. The boom of impact and the door slamming into the foyer wall exploded the morning silence. Hennessey lunged inside, tossing a couple of flash-bang grenades, and Jace hurtled into the first room on the right. A dining room. “Clear!”
Bootsteps thundered upstairs. Another door was breached, presumably by Rogers and Gonzales, who were assigned the basement. Calls of “clear” echoed rapidly as rooms were systematically secured.
Jace sidestepped into the hall. An overpowering stench cut through the sulfur smoke, one he instantly recognized from his SEAL days. A decaying body. He breathed through his mouth as he cleared the rest of the ground floor—a rote procedure now. No one was here. No one could live with this overwhelming stink. He met Hennessey in the kitchen, who nodded toward the back door. Jace let in Gibbs and Fontana.
“Basement’s secured,” Gonzales yelled from below. “Looks like he was busy making pipe bombs.”
“Upstairs is clear,” Peters called in a strangled voice. “Body in the master.”
The four men in the kitchen traded despondent looks as they lowered their weapons. “Let’s go,” Hennessey muttered, and led the way upward. The stench grew with each step, burning Jace’s eyes, and he spastically swallowed sour saliva. He had to avoid the gruesome sight at all costs. No one but his SEAL Team Three partner, Dirk, had discovered his weenie secret. And Dirk had died in the May blast that started this horrific chain of bombings.
Sarah Andre is a 2011 and 2014 Golden Heart finalist and a 2017 RITA® finalist, which is Romance Writers of America highest award of distinction. She lives in serene Southwest FL with her husband and two naughty Pomeranians. When she’s not writing romantic suspense, Sarah is either reading novels, exercising to rude alternative rock music or coloring. Yes, you heard right. She’s all over those coloring books for adults.
Links to Sarah’s website, blog, books, #ad etc.:
Romantic Suspense That Keeps You Up All Night
For more information please visit www.SarahAndre.com
Thanks, Sarah, for sharing your story with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!