If you like dark romantic suspense, with a little extra spice, Alpha men with military or law enforcement backgrounds and strong women, you need to check out Christy Reece’s Last Chance Rescue Series.
|Check out Christy’s website to see more about LCR|
Last Chance Rescue Series by Christie Reece is comprised of 3 different trilogies. The first 6 books are already out, listed in order, Rescue Me, Return To Me, Run To Me, No Chance, Second Chance and Last Chance. The first book of the third trilogy, Sweet Justice, will be released 9/6/11, book two Sweet Revenge, 9/27/11 and book three Sweet Reward, 12/27/11. I am dying for these books to come out, Christy has been TEASING us on facebook for months with snippets of each book, and as much as I LOVED the first six books, I can tell the next three are going to be even better.
Here is an excerpt from Sweet Revenge:
The night was silent and still. The air, thick and humid, held a feeling of expectancy—as if aware that rescue had finally arrived. Stooped behind a low brick wall, his eyes narrowed into a squint behind powerful binoculars, LCR operative Dylan Savage surveyed the perimeter of the massive property owned by Stanford Reddington.
The house in front of him held Jamie Kendrick—a young woman who’d been abducted by a maniac and then sold to Reddington. Purchased for what purpose, Dylan didn’t even want to consider. Their mission was clear: rescue. Their plan: a soft entry. Grabbing Jamie and getting the hell out, hopefully without firing a shot.
“Everyone in place and ready?” Noah McCall asked quietly. The Last Chance Rescue leader kept his voice calm and low, his tone revealing none of the tension Dylan knew he must feel.
On missions, McCall acted as though ice ran through his veins. That was an attitude Dylan had adopted long before he’d joined LCR. Never let them see you flinch. He’d learned that lesson as a child. Staying expressionless had saved his ass more than once.
Dylan answered with a soft “Ready.”
Adrenaline surged as the three other people on the op answered in the affirmative. Any second now…
“Go,” McCall whispered.
Staying low, Dylan and McCall ran toward the back door that their informant, Raphael, had promised would be unlocked. Noah eased the door open…Dylan peered inside. Scanning the large kitchen, he briefly noted that not only did the room look like a pigsty, it stank of old food and stale alcohol. The room had one thing in its favor: no people.
Dylan entered first, McCall behind him. Dim light filtered from a greasy bulb over the stove revealed the remains of last night’s dinner and four dirty plates on the counter. Four here, including Jamie?
In the middle of the kitchen, the men stopped…waited… listened. On cue, a loud, thudding knock sounded at the front door. A moment of dead silence, then lights came on as someone stomped toward the door. The instant the front door opened, Dylan and McCall moved.
Guns at the ready, their steps silent, they made their way to the next room. At the entrance to the living room, McCall went one direction, Dylan the other. Sticking his head into a small den and a bathroom, Dylan found nothing other than furniture and more evidence that slobs lived here.
One minute later, they met in the middle of the living room. The loud protestations coming from the front of the house reassured them that the homeowner would be occupied for several more moments.
Black eyes glittering with cold determination, McCall mouthed silently, “Anything?”
Dylan shook his head.
Both men turned and headed up the stairway. Halting at the top of the stairs, they assessed the area. Bright lights from the first floor allowed them to see three rooms to check on this floor. McCall jerked his head at the stairs to the third floor.
With a quick nod, Dylan headed upstairs. At the top of the small landing, he stopped and listened. The only sounds were the distant mumblings of Reddington as he argued with the Spanish police. Two rooms to check here. The door to one of the rooms stood open. Easing his head in, he looked around. A storage room, filled with furniture and boxes.
Swiftly, silently, Dylan moved across the hallway, toward the closed door of the other room. His ear to the wood, he listened and heard a soft, trembling sigh.
He put his hand on the doorknob. Locked. Pulling a small tool from the belt at his waist, he inserted it into the keyhole. At the sweet sound of a click, he twisted the knob, eased the door open and stepped inside. The room, midnight dark and deathly quiet, held the musky scent of sour sweat and felt heavy with fear, confirming what he already knew: she was here.
The softest whisper of sound put him on alert; half a second later, a small body leaped on his back. Not wanting to hurt or frighten her further, Dylan dropped to the floor with Jamie Kendrick hanging onto his shoulders.
She ground her knee into the small of his back and spoke in a harsh, raspy voice, “Touch me and I’ll kill you.”
Admiration and compassion slammed into him. She was tough. Good. She would need to stay that way. “I’m here to rescue you, Jamie.”
With a soft, laughing sob, she said mockingly, “Yeah, my knight in shining armor.”
“I’m with Last Chance Rescue.”
After a long pause, she whispered hoarsely, “What’s that?”
“A rescue organization.”
Another long pause. Finally, a shaky, tear-filled voice asked, “Are you for real?”
“Yes.” He waited two heartbeats, giving her time to absorb the information. Then, since time was of the essence, he said, “We need to get out of here.”
Her slight weight eased off his back, and he felt her shift away from him.
Getting to his feet, Dylan took a flashlight from his utility belt and clicked it on. His heart thudded and crashed as he got his first glimpse of the slender, petite Jamie Kendrick. Perched on the edge of a bed, she’d snagged a sheet to cover herself. Untamed, golden-brown hair draped over her bare shoulders. Gray-blue eyes shimmered with tears, white teeth bit at her lips as if to control their trembling. The thin sheet covering her nude body shook uncontrollably. Despite his reassurance, she was terrified that this was a trick.
“Found her,” he whispered softly into his mic.
“Get her out,” Noah answered softly. “Reddington’s still at the door, arguing. I’ve got one bastard down, two more on the run.”
“Affirmative,” Dylan answered.
There was no time for more reassurance. They needed to get their asses out of here…now. He took a step toward her. “Let’s go.”
She lifted her hands to tighten the sheet around her body and he saw a handcuff dangling at her wrists. Pulling a standard key from his belt, he reached for her hand. Admiration grew in him as he watched her stiffen, but refuse to back away. He unlocked the cuff from her bruised, raw wrist and then let her go. The last thing she probably wanted was for a man to touch her. Unfortunately, he was going to have to do more than just touch her if they were to get out of here in one piece.
With a sweep of his flashlight over the room, Dylan took another quick scan. No clothing. He pulled his black cotton T-shirt over his head and handed it to her. “Put this on.” Giving her privacy, he went to the door to peer out. Still quiet.
At the sound of a small, relieved sigh, he glanced over his shoulder. She was ready. Her feet were bare and her body swayed as she tried to stand. The T-shirt swallowed her, landing just above her wobbling knees.
“It’ll be easier for both of us if you let me carry you out.” He wasn’t asking for permission, but he didn’t want to scare her by just lifting her without warning.
“I can walk.”
“You’re barefoot and weak. We need to get out of here as fast as we can.” Giving her no time to argue, Dylan reached for her and scooped her into his arms. Her body was shaking with terror, but she didn’t fight him and that was all he needed.
Making a rapid exit from the room, he strode quickly toward the stairway. Halfway down the stairs, the distant blast of gunfire ramped up the tension. Shit! No way was he not getting her out of here alive. Holding her tighter against his chest, he whispered, “Hang on, sweetheart.”
Lowering his head, Dylan ran like hell.
One month later
Charles de Gaulle Airport
Charles de Gaulle Airport
“Ladies and gentlemen, flight 231 to Atlanta, Georgia, USA, will begin loading in ten minutes.”
A bright, sunny smile plastered on her face, Jamie turned to her sister, McKenna. This stiff upper lip thing was a lot harder than she thought it would be. This wasn’t goodbye forever, but still…. “I’ll see you soon again…I promise.”
McKenna’s face, so similar to Jamie’s own, revealed the same turmoil. “You’re sure you don’t want me to go with you? It’s not too late for me to buy a ticket.”
The lump grew in her throat at the offer. McKenna’s anxiousness was sweet but unnecessary. She wasn’t nervous or worried. After everything that had happened the last few months, she felt insulated from the trivial stuff. And she’d been given a miracle—her sister. Her biggest concern was being separated from McKenna again.
“I’ll be fine. I just want to get this behind me so I can move forward.”
“Will you have to see him?”
Funny, even the thought of seeing her ex-husband again didn’t cause the thud of dread it once had. “I don’t think so. My attorney assured me I’d just need to appear before a judge.”
“You know I’ll be there for you, if you need me. Right?”
She hugged McKenna again. After her rescue, they’d spent almost a month together, and had gotten even closer than they’d been as kids. Having both survived their own hell, being together again made them appreciate each other so much more.
Pulling away, she smiled through her tears. “You need to go see Lucas.”
At the mention of Lucas Kane, a breathtaking expression came over McKenna’s face. Never had she seen anyone more in love. And just from the short amount of time Jamie had spent with Lucas, she knew he felt the same way. Other than her parents, she had never seen anyone love each other like that.
“You promise to come back to Europe soon?”
“Cross my heart. And if not, you can always come see me.” She gripped McKenna’s hand and held tight. “We’ll never let each other go again.”
Tears sparkling in her eyes, McKenna nodded fiercely. “Never. I promise.”
They both whirled around at the sound of the familiar masculine voice. A gasp escaped Jamie before she could stop it. She hadn’t thought she’d ever see him again and yet, here he was. Dylan.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” McKenna asked.
“I heard Jamie was headed back to the States. I’ve got some business to take care of there, so I thought I’d tag along.” His emerald gaze turned to Jamie. “That okay with you?”
It had been almost a month since she’d seen him. Dylan had been the one to carry her out of that house, the one to rescue her from hell.
Her rescue had been as dramatic as any television drama, with Dylan and the other LCR operatives, swooping down in the dead of night and rescuing her from Stanton Reddington and his vile son. Jamie barely remembered the event other than Dylan’s gruff, reassuring voice, his strong arms carrying her out of the house and his words of “You’re safe now, Jamie” as he’d handed her over to the EMTs.
Then she’d been lifted into a helicopter and taken to the hospital. She’d gone from abject misery and terror to comfort and safety in a matter of seconds. And she had thought Dylan was the most wonderful of heroes.
For the first couple of days after her rescue, he’d been kind and wonderfully attentive. Then something had happened and for the life of her, she didn’t know what. The day of her release from the hospital, Dylan turned noticeably cooler. She’d tried to tell herself she was just imagining it, but when he’d given her a barely perceptible nod when she’d thanked him once more for her rescue, she had known it wasn’t imagination.
Those words of thanks were the last ones she thought she’d ever get to say to him and now, here he was, going to the States with her.
Realizing that both McKenna and Dylan were looking at her strangely, Jamie knew a deep blush covered her fair skin as she stammered, “Yes…of course, that’s okay with me.”
“Ladies and gentleman, flight 231 to Atlanta is now boarding.”
As the airline personnel gave boarding instructions, Jamie forgot everything other than the knowledge that she was saying goodbye to her sister. Throwing her arms around her neck, she whispered in her ear. “I love you, Kenna.”
Her voice thick with emotion, McKenna answered softly, “I love you, too. See you soon. Okay?”
Unable to speak for the huge lump in her throat, Jamie nodded and tightened her arms around her sister one last time…then made herself let go. McKenna didn’t need to see the uncertainty and dread that suddenly swamped her. After everything she’d been through, what was there to fear?
McKenna’s eyes glittered with emotion. “Call me as soon as you land. Okay?”
She nodded again. “I will.”
She wasn’t surprised to see McKenna hug Dylan–he seem to have an affectionate rapport with her sister. Something that was sadly missing with her.
Carry-on gripped tightly in her hand, Jamie headed to the ticket agent. At the door, she turned back for one last glance. McKenna waved and blew a kiss. Jamie gave her the best smile she could muster and turned to walk down the narrow tunnel to the plane.
“Want me to take your bag?” Dylan asked.
Despite the massive willpower she thought she had, tears were flooding her eyes. Not looking at him, she shook her head.
“Yeah, just hate saying goodbye.” She straightened her shoulders, determined to get past her weepiness. “Where are you sitting?”
“First class, row two, seat A.”
Startled, she jerked her head up. “I’m in row two, seat B. How’d you manage that?”
He shrugged like it was nothing and stopped at the entrance to the plane, allowing her to go first. As she passed by him, his closed expression told her he wasn’t going to explain anything. Not why he’d arranged to sit with her, and probably not why he’d just shown up, out of the blue, to travel with her. Telling herself she didn’t need an explanation, Jamie settled into her seat and watched as the most handsome and infuriatingly mysterious man she’d ever known dropped into the seat next to her.
Would nine hours of sitting beside him give her any insight? Like why he’d made the effort to travel with her, but still treated her as though she’d done something to offend him?
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