by CW Browning~~~~~~~~~~~~~BLURB:
Alina Maschik expected to have a few quiet days alone in New Jersey.
She should have known better.
FBI Agent Stephanie Walker has a problem. Whenever Alina comes into town, someone ends up dead. When the enigmatic Damon Miles follows, that count is doubled. Now, a mere week before Halloween, Stephanie's main informant has gone missing. When part of him shows up in a reputedly haunted prison, the local attraction becomes the center of a macabre and baffling spectacle. As bodies start to fill the morgue, Stephanie must trust in Alina's particular skill set to prevent further bloodshed. But that trust comes with a price, as Alina and Damon bring their own brand of trouble, uncovering a sinister web of deadly intrigue reaching far beyond the familiar South Jersey suburbs.
A prison haunted by tortured souls, a puzzling federal investigation, a rising body count, and a pair of deadly assassins...what could possibly go wrong?
“Well, then what do we do?” Angela demanded, getting up and setting her hands on her hips. “What's the plan?”
“9 minutes!” Viper called down the hallway to Hawk, closing the laptop with a snap. “I armed the perimeter so we know where he is, but it won't stop him.”
“9 minutes till what?” Angela cried. “Lina, what the hell are you talking about?!”
“Until he breaches the perimeter,” Alina said shortly over her shoulder. “Michael, take her upstairs.”
“Like hell I will,” Michael retorted. “You stay with her. I'll take care of Kwan. Just tell me where he is.”
“Spoken like a true Jarhead,” Damon muttered, emerging from the hallway. “All the lights are out in the front of the house. If he wants to see inside, he'll need night-vision goggles.”
“He won't get close enough to need them,” Viper said grimly, spinning around and heading for the back door. “Michael, last warning. Take her upstairs.”
“STOP!!!” Angela screamed as her hand touched the sliding door handle.
Viper swung around, her hand reaching for her gun even as she realized there was no threat. Michael's eyebrows soared into his forehead with the shriek and Damon rolled his eyes, grimacing at the sound.
“What?” Alina demanded impatiently.
“You're not going out there! Are you crazy?!” Angela cried. “He could be armed!”
“I hope he is,” Alina said under her breath.
“No!” Angela stalked over to her and stomped her foot. “You're not going out there!”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:CW Browning was writing before she could spell. Making up stories in the backyard with her childhood best friend, imagination ran wild from the very beginning. When she moved to New Jersey from Kansas at the age of seven, those tales became written words as she adjusted to life on the East Coast. Her first full-length novel was printed out on a dot-matrix printer at the age of eight. Through the years, the writing continued as an enjoyable past-time while she pursued other avenues of interest, attending Rutgers University and studying History. In time, though, it became apparent where her heart truly lie. CW still makes up stories in her backyard, but now she crafts them for her readers to enjoy. She makes her home in Southern New Jersey, where she loves to grill organic steak and sip red wine on the patio.
- Visit her at: http://www.cwbrowning.com/
- Find her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/CW-Browning/435606453219187?ref=br_tf
- Follow her on Twitter https://twitter.com/cw_browning
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