A woman hiding from her identity. A man trying to find his.
After witnessing a murder, Megan Summers ran until she reached the remote coastal village of Victory Cove. She has a new name, but she knows it’ s only a matter of time before the murderer catches up with her.
Jake Grogan has come to town to unravel the mystery of his heritage. Instead of finding his grandmother at Wakefield House, he discovers an attractive stranger who will do anything to get him off her doorstep. Trapped by a storm, he’ s forced to stay the night with Megan—a woman who keeps a handgun under her bed and closes herself off from the outside world.
Jake tries to dig deeper into his past, but he’ s distracted by his fear for Megan’ s safety and his growing feelings for her. Danger is drawing near and he’ ll do anything to keep her safe. Will it be enough to help them survive the endless night?
“There’s no ghost here.” She crossed her arms. “I was just building up the hype to intimidate you.”
Instead of the expected smirk, Megan was surprised to see Jake’s face sober. “There is a ghost at Wakefield House.”
Her lips parted, but he continued in a husky tone, “She’s so haunting. So beautiful. Pure of heart. Something divine, yet cloaked in shadows. Rooted to this house as if chains were linked about her ankles. Her wings are spread, they pump and pump, but still she can’t escape.” His smile was sad. “And so she sits, as a sentinel—a prisoner, and waits for someone to come and release her.”
Breath fled her body. She reached for the back of the chair and tried to stave off the haunting image. Was it really her? Was that the image she portrayed?
At the same time that this house was her refuge— was it not also her dungeon?
“Have you come to release me?” she whispered, breathless.
Mitch Hasslet, a war photojournalist relegated to a desk job, is the sole witness to a heist of Mayan artifacts. Recruited by the enigmatic director of the Museum of Art and Antiquities, Mitch is sent to Guatemala, the last location the shipment was tracked to. Acting as the museum staff photographer, Mitch joins a group of archaeologists. His goal is to locate the artifacts as swiftly as possible so that he can collect his compensation and get the hell out of the jungle.
Alexandra Langley is about to run out of funds. She has yet to discover the lost Mayan civilization she knows lurks in the rainforest. To achieve her grant, she will accept the museum's latest nuisance, Mitch Hasslet, and any other obstacle that is sent her way.
Unsuccessful and desperate, Alex has decided to move the group to a portion of the jungle referred to as, “No Man’s Land”−a sector where archaeological teams have ventured but never returned.
As Mitch and Alex discover romance, will their bond protect them in a jungle filled with deceit?
“No!” he lurched upright.
Red strobes contrasted with the stark interior of his tent to reveal a woman with long black hair sitting in the corner.
One gasp. Another. Soon Mitch began to disassociate the nightmare from the screeching nocturnal pitch of the jungle. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again the woman was gone.
Damn, I hate night sounds.
He considered turning on the flashlight, but the even breathing nearby reminded him that he shared this little canvas hell with Wes and Chuckles. His fingers wrapped around the aluminum cylinder as he hoisted out of the tent into the energetic heart of the jungle.
Night sounds. This jungle was full of them.
Reluctant to flick on the flashlight, Mitch relied on brief flashes of moonlight to aid with his getaway.
He explored the camp with the limited light. What in God’s name was he hoping for—to catch a glimpse of a crate marked with the HAA insignia? If he was successful, Nicholson had promised to use his connections to get him back into a lucrative photojournalist career. Although, if he was successful, he didn’t think he’d need the museum director’s influence.
Mitch broadened his circle around the site until he was tucked deep in a thicket of trees, far enough away to risk using the flashlight. He flicked on the beacon and stifled a shout as startled red eyes stared him dead on.
The disturbed kinkajou, a raccoon-like mammal, swung upside down from one of the branches and blinked curiously at Mitch. Recovering from the shock, he continued his loop, careful this time not to lose track of the camp. He only had a few hours until he was scheduled to meet up with Alex.
What was disturbing was how much he was looking forward to that.