Physical Forces (K-9 Rescue, #6)

Physical Forces
Physical Forces by D.D. Ayres

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

 

~ARC from the publisher via NetGalley.~

This was actually a surprise book for me. The widget was mailed to me like two weeks before the book was about to be released. And it is the 6th book of the series! I think i panicked when i looked it up on GoodReads. I immediately mailed Ms. Justin regarding the reading order of the book. I thank the gods because I do not have to read the other books in the series.

This is a new author for me, so why not. I loved how this was written though.

Each page is filled on how Macayla and Oliver go about their lives. It did not contain too much thought. It had the right amount of narration and the characters thoughts on the events that are happening around them. I was delighted with Oliver’s thought. Combine the Aussie accent, it was truly an enjoyable story.

The plot behind it was interesting too. So is Oliver’s predicament. But what I love about the book was Jack. Oliver’s dog. Yes, him. You need to read it to know.

I rate this 4.5 due to the fact that it was not an overwhelming book. It is the 6th book and yet, I like that I can read it with reading the start of the series.

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Talen

Talen

Talen by Rebecca Zanetti

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

~ARC via NetGalley.~

This is actually a bonus novella from on of the Realm books. I can’t remember which one though.

From the start of the Dark Protectors series, every reader of Ms. Zanetti has, ~ and still love~ this hero. From the way he entered Cara’s life, to the way he adored Janie, on how much he love his son, Garret till his love for Hope. And how much he love his family that really made a mark in my heart.

The war is over, and yet our hero really do not know how to relax. Hence the vacay to Hawaii. However, with the war being over, it does not mean that all is well. As you read this novella, we are given a chance to be awed on how much powerful a pissed mated vampire can be.

I love this man. He is the ideal husband that everyone should have…okay..not the too much alphaness, and the vampire thing. But the overall love that he feels for his mate, Cara.

Intense, passionate, pure devotion, and a love that will last forever. Those are the words that will always be stuck in my head when it comes to Talen. I have read a lot of alpha men, and yet, he is one of those handful of men that I cannot forget no matter what.

I look forward to reading the next book of the Realm Series!

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Drakon’s Prey (Blood of the Drakon #2)

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Drakon’s Prey by N.J. Walters

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

~ARC from NetGalley. ~

This is actually the 3rd series that I have read from this author, And I must say, I truly enjoy the books and the series that she writes.

This one is the second book of a new series of hers. I love the continuity of the story.

Valeriya? I love her character, and also her job. She maybe related to the Knights, but her pure heart was something that cannot be corrupted by the ideas of the group. I really like her buildup and by gods her lines, I nearly cried on some of them.

Tarrant, the communication king of the brothers is a cynical as all of them can be. But all of that changed when he met Valeriya. It was as sudden as Darius and Sarah’s meeting, but the intensity is might a bit intense due to the fact that Valeriya is the sister of the Head of the Knights.

In spite of obstacles, their love for each other pushed through, Who would have thought that Tarrant would care so deeply of a human, and it would a woman connected with the Knights? Fate really is a fickle creature…

I rate this 4.5 love it! Looking forward to the next book in the series,

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My One True Highlander (No Ordinary Hero #2)

My One True Highlander
My One True Highlander by Suzanne Enoch

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

~ARC from the publisher, via NetGalley~

This is one of those books that was funny and like a what the moment.

Okay not really, but the way Graeme and Marjorie met was anything but ordinary. So are the succeeding scenes after that. I still can’t help but laugh every time I remembered the series of kidnapping in this book. Granted, it was for a good cause, but man!

First off, I can really feel how much Marjorie wanted to belong to the society she was suddenly trust in. However, during the time period of this book, people do not just accept you because you suddenly become a Lady. It takes more than that. That is one of the reasons, I hate that period. People are quickly judge. As for Graeme? He has his reasons for not loving. And I must say, I cried. At a young age, he had to be the Laird and the guardian to all his sibling. I admire him for his actions.

But what I truly like about this book was the way Gabriel and Graeme converse to each other. Yup, truly enjoyed that part.

You do not need to do what society see fit just to find your place in the world. All you have to do is be you. Society does not defines you, its your action and how true you really are.

~That was my thought on Marjorie’s situation, in the end, she was able to be in the place where her heart righteously belong to.

Looking forward for the next book.

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Hunger

Hunger

Hunger by Eve Langlais

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

~ARC from the publisher via NetGalley.~

This is the 3rd book of the Anthology of Eve Langlais, Kate Douglas, and A.C. Arthur. I am really happy that I was able to read these books.

~The Alpha’s Mate~

I was actually shocked when I read the last part of Catch a Tiger by the Tail, and Fabian got his very own HEA. I kinda liked him on Legal Wolf’s Mate, when he was introduced…I was secretly hoping that he would have his own book. Somehow, beneath all of those gruffness there is some sort of sweetness. ..alas, there wasn’t…

A lot of arrogance…but heck! I like it on him. I really do not know how to describe Fabian. However, his personality has a certain effect on you.

The woman? I can say “wow”. She is one heck of an alpha female. Her personality matched Fabian perfectly! It like one of those shirts that is really meant for you.

At the end of the book, you might wonder…will there be a book four? Let us see.

For the rest of the two books in this series, just follow this link.

I enjoy this anthology. If there is another book, I look forward for it.

The Dangerous Billionaire (Tate Brothers, #1)

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The Dangerous Billionaire

by Jackie Ashenden

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The Book Blurb: (via GoodReads)

Dangerous Billionaire_CoverMoney doesn’t always change the man in this new standalone romance from Jackie Ashenden.

Navy SEAL Sullivan “Van” Tate has been called home to reluctantly inherit an empire and finds himself facing the most difficult mission of all: love.

Nothing about Sullivan “Van” Tate is what it seems. A Navy SEAL raised among the New York City elite, Van prefers heart-pounding action over a Wall Street corner office. But when his adoptive father dies and his business rivals move in to overtake his empire, Van must suit up to save the company and protect the one woman most forbidden to him…and the object of Van’s most dangerous desires.

Chloe Tate is as ambitious as she is gorgeous. With a newfound independence, Chloe is no longer a prisoner on her father’s ranch. But everything changes when losing her father may also mean losing her life. Even with her survival on the line, Chloe can’t deny the burning attraction she feels the moment she locks eyes with Van, her rich, rough and ready, foster brother and the new head of her father’s company. Tall, dark, and muscled, he’s the one man who she has no business being with. But how can she resist a Navy Seal Warrior when he’ll do anything to protect her?

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The Review: 

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

~ARC was given by the publisher made avaialble via NetGalley.~

As the first book in the series, and a new author for, I do not expect much. Yes. I am that kind of reader. I would read whatever book given to me, regardless of the past reviews. I tend to form my own thoughts when it comes to books. Each book is different, therefore they should not be judge by according to the norm.

To be honest. It was a struggle for me to continue reading the book. The start of the book was nice,but when Chloe was introduced, it get too dicey.

The thoughts of both characters were too much. It began to bore me. I was trying to fast read some of the thoughts, I wanted to read the conversation between them, rather than what was on their mind.

It took a good turn half way through my reading, the phase started to kick and the action started to happen. It was a little part, but it made me enjoy the book.

All in all, not bad, as the first book, we are given the main reason for the change. It might be a big of a ripple, but it is there. I would like to know more about the rest of the brothers. Especially Lucas. then again, Wolf’s character is interesting too.

I give this 4 stars. It is because of the start of the book and how it ended. Yes, I love the ending.

Buy Links:

Amazon B&N Google Indiebound Kobo

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Author Bio: 

Jackie AshendenJackie Ashenden lives in Auckland, New Zealand with her husband, the inimitable Dr. Jax, and their two kids and two cats. When she’s not torturing alpha males and their stroppy heroines, she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, posting random crap on her blog, or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband.

 

Social Links:

http://www.jackieashenden.com/

Twitter: @JackieAshenden
Facebook
: @jackie.ashenden

http://smpromance.com/
Twitter: @SMPRomance
Facebook: @SMPRomance

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The Excerpt: 

He didn’t look at her. Instead he shifted his weight onto one elbow and lifted his hand, cupping one breast in his palm. The breath hissed in her throat, the shocking heat of his touch reverberating through her like a scream echoing through a deserted house. He brushed his thumb over her aching nipple and she gasped, all the desperation she’d felt earlier rushing back.

He lowered his head, putting his mouth against the pulse at the base of her throat, the feel of his lips so hot she began to shiver almost uncontrollably. His tongue pressed lightly, his thumb brushing back and forth over her nipple, teasing her. She groaned, her spine bowing, pleasure like a live thing twisting inside her.

“Beautiful,” he whispered roughly against her skin, giving her the reassurance she needed without her even having to ask. “You’re just so fucking beautiful.”

He didn’t speak after that, too busy trailing kisses down over her skin, making goose bumps rise everywhere, the brush of his thumb maddening. Then he took his hand away as his mouth closed over the hard point of her nipple, hot and wet, an intense pressure building as he began to suck.

She groaned again, the pleasure bright and electric, her hands closing into fists beside her head. It felt so good she could hardly stand it. She whispered his name yet again, the sound raw as he teased her nipple with his tongue, then bit gently on it, making a sob catch in her throat.

He shifted his attention to her other breast, sucking that into his mouth as well as he slid one hand down the quivering plane of her stomach, to the fastening of her jeans. She lifted her hips urgently, unable to keep still, wanting to pull away from the maddening torture of his mouth and yet wanting him to suck harder, deeper at the same time.

“Hush.” His breath was hot against her sensitized nipple. “I told you to keep still. It’ll happen, don’t worry.”

She tried to do as she was told as he casually flicked open the button on her jeans and grabbed the tab of her zipper, tugging it down. Then his fingers were feathering light touches across her stomach, moving lower, sliding beneath the waistband of her panties. The breath sobbed in her throat as she felt those teasing fingers tangle in the soft, damp curls between her thighs, pulling lightly, sending tiny pinpricks of sensation racing over her skin.

She said something, she didn’t know what, maybe it was his name again or maybe it was a curse, and then she forgot it entirely as his fingers slid lower, stroking the soft, slick folds of her pussy.

Her hips bucked against his hand, her head going back on the pillow. He circled her clit with one finger, teasing her. Inching her closer toward the edge of the cliff but not pushing her off.

His mouth was so hot on her nipple, licking and sucking, torturing her as his fingers stroked unhurriedly around and around her clit, then sliding down to circle the entrance of her body, almost pushing inside but not quite.

He was playing with her, making her moan and move restlessly beneath him, blind now to anything but the feel of his hands on her body and the relentless pressure that was slowly building higher and higher.

Then quite suddenly he took his hands away and she nearly burst into tears at the loss, reaching for him as she felt his weight shift up and back.

“Lie still.” The rough sound of his voice rolled over her, full of command. “I’m not going anywhere.”

So she did as she was told, lying back against the pillows, blinking away the stupid rush of salty tears from her eyes and watching him slide off the bed. He straightened and pulled his shirt off, then got rid of his shoes. He un­ did his pants, pushed them down his hips along with his briefs, and stepped out of them magnificently, gloriously naked, but for his dog tags.

She couldn’t stop staring at him, following the carved lines of muscle and sinew, a work of perfect, masculine art, the eagle and trident inked across his chest making it very clear—as if his body hadn’t already—exactly what he was.

Dangerous, lethal. A weapon in human form.

He bent and got his wallet out of his pants, every movement fluid, purposeful as he extracted a foil packet from it. Then he ripped the open the foil, taking out the latex inside. And as she watched, completely fascinated, he reached down and gripped his cock in one hand, rolling down the condom with the other.

Big. He was really big. And beautiful too.

Her hands itched, wanting to touch him, to stroke down the long, smooth length of his rigid flesh, feel exactly how hard he was. But then he was moving, the bed dipping as he got back onto it. And her breath caught as he reached for the waistband of her jeans, pulling the denim down her legs in short, hard jerks, taking her panties along with them, and finally slipping them both off. Then he put his hands on her bare thighs and with ruthless insistence, spread them wide apart.

Another rush of vulnerability swept over her and she half sat up, breathing fast. “Van, I . . .” she began, before stopping short, not knowing what she wanted to say.

But he was moving forward, putting his hands on her shoulders and easing her back. “Let me look.” His voice had gentled again. “I only want to look at you.”

She tried to relax against the pillows, letting him hold her thighs apart, his gaze returning between them. The look on his face was so hungry, making her feel less ex­ posed and more . . . powerful almost. She liked doing that to him. She liked making him look at her as if he was starving.

He moved forward quite suddenly, coming over her, surrounding her with all that bare, tanned skin and strong muscle, his dog tags brushing against her sensitized breasts. The scent of him was everywhere, fresh, with that spicy, earthy undertone, and she was abruptly trembling so hard she didn’t think she’d ever stop.

He said nothing, looking at down at her, and this time his expression was fierce with something she didn’t under­ stand. She wanted to ask him what it was, but then he slid one hand beneath her hips, lifting them, and she felt the head of his cock slide through her folds, nudging against her clit. And she forgot what she was going to ask. In fact, she lost the power of speech entirely.

All she could do was lie there, shaking and desperate as he teased her, and when she didn’t think she could bear it anymore, he began to push his cock inside her, the intense stretch and burn of her pussy around him tearing a gasp from her throat.

She sobbed, because he didn’t rush. He went slowly. Inch by inch. Murmuring encouragement, telling her what a good girl she was, how tight and wet and hot her pussy was, and how good she felt around his cock. The dirty talk made her break out into a sweat, the climax so near she could almost taste it, making her want to shove herself up onto him or do something—anything—to push herself over the edge. But he didn’t let her, pinning one of her hips to the mattress with one hand as he lifted her leg up and around his waist with the other, tilting her pelvis so he could slide in deeper.

She stopped pleading, her throat too dry, her voice too hoarse. Besides, it was clear he wasn’t going to do anything until he was good and ready. She could only breathe through the pleasure that was wrapping itself around her throat and squeezing tight, making her gasp, making lights burst behind her eyes.

Then he was seated deep inside her, and she found herself pressed to the mattress, pinned beneath the hot, heavy weight of him. But strangely, looking up into his beautiful face, she didn’t feel crushed. She felt anchored. As if for the first time since she’d left Wyoming she’d come home in some way.

She didn’t speak as his arms came around her, cradling her, holding her close against him like she was a secret he wanted to keep safe. Then he drew back his hips and thrust deep inside her.

Chloe came apart then, sobbing against his shoulder, shattering as easily and as lightly as a sphere of blown glass, the pieces of her held together only by the strength of his arms.

~Copyright © 2017 by the author and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Press.

 

 

Never Trust a Pirate (Playful Brides, #7)

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Never Trust a Pirate

by Valerie Bowman

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NTAP coverBook Blurb (via GoodReads):

The rules of engagement were never so scandalous. . .

A rumored pirate and the scurrilous black sheep of his well-to- do family, Cade Cavendish relishes his world of rebellion, deception, and seduction. Nothing and no one can hold him to be the duty-bound, honorable man he is expected to be. But when an unexpected run-in at his twin brother’s estate with a ravishing, raven-haired maid leads her to believe he’s actually a viscount, Cade’s renegade life is thrown wildly off-kilter. And even though a case of mistaken identity can be quickly set to rights, matters of the heart are quite different…

Miss Danielle LaCrosse is startled to learn that the handsome gentleman who radiates sin and has the devil in his eyes is not her employer the Viscount, but rather his infamous brother. A former heiress, orphaned and left penniless, Danielle has more than a few secrets of her own. Cade may be skilled at coaxing even the most hidden desires out of Danielle but can he earn her trust–and win her heart–as they embark on an adventure to confront a dangerous enemy from both of their pasts . . . and uncover the identity of the so-called Black Fox along the way?

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The Review:

~ARC was given by the publisher via NetGalley.~

This is the 7th book of the series. Even though I was not able to read all of the previous books, it was really a delight to read the rest of them.

Since I was not able to read Captain Rafferty Cavendish, The Irresistible Rogue , I cannot really say how the two was brought up. But as the story progress, there were some parts that you can clearly see, how much Cade love his twin.

“Cade regretted that he couldn’t share his secrets with his brother, but it was best this way. To keep Rafe safe. The less he knew, the better. “

It was one of those reasons why a black sheep must return. Not because, for his own, but for the people he left behind.

I love how the two interacted with one another. From the light banner, to the throwing of arrogance.

“I don’t know many lady’s maids who are so—ahem— proficient with a knife. I clearly need to get out more.”
“How many lady’s maids do you know?”
“Enough?”

The lines, my gods, they were the kind that would keep you laughing at some point because if you can actually imagine how they looked liked when they said those lines.

The love story? It was a progressing thing. It was not as obvious as the other romances that I read, but it was enough for the readers to know how will the HEA will turn out.

I truly enjoy this book and I look forward to reading the rest of it.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Buy Links:

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Author Bio: 

Valerie Bowman

Valerie Bowman grew up in Illinois with six sisters (she’s number seven) and a huge supply of historical romance novels. After a cold and snowy stint earning a degree in English with a minor in history at Smith College, she moved to Florida the first chance she got. Valerie now lives in Jacksonville with her family including her mini-schnauzer, Huckleberry. When she’s not writing, she keeps busy reading, traveling, or vacillating between watching crazy reality TV and PBS. She is the author of the Secret Brides series, starting with Secrets of a Wedding Night, Secrets of a Runaway Bride, and Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage.

Social Links:

Author Website Facebook: @ValerieBowmanAuthor

Twitter: @ValerieGBowman Pinterest GoodReads

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The Excerpt: 

CHAPTER ONE

London Harbor, July 1817

Only three steps. Only three steps separated him from the map. It was there, laying on the rickety wooden table in the captain’s stateroom aboard a ship aptly named Le Secret Francais. The only sound in the cramped space was his own breathing. Sweat beaded on his brow. He’d come this far. Braved the murky, cold water, swam out to the ship moored at the London docks. Climbed aboard silent as a wraith, dressed all in black. Wrung out his clothing to keep it from dripping so there wouldn’t be a trail. Managed to steal into the captain’s quarters as the man slept, and now, now only three steps remained between him and the priceless map.

One water droplet fell to the wooden plank floor like a hammer against steel. The sound of his breath echoed to a crescendo. The blood pounding in his head became a distracting whirring noise.

One step forward. The ball of his foot ground onto the plank. Stealth and silence. Always. The calling cards of the best thief in London.

The captain stirred slightly in his bunk and began to snore.

He froze. One leather-clad foot arrested on the wooden plank. A pistol rested on two nails directly above the captain’s bunk. If the man awoke, he might shoot first at any noise. The captain well knew the value of the treasure he carried.

He counted to ten. Once. Twice. He had long since mastered the art of keeping footing on a ship. He waited until his heartbeats became steady again before taking the next step. A slight creak in the wood floor. A hint of movement from the captain. Another endless wait. Impatience was a roiling knot inside his belly.

Out of the shadows now, he stood only one step away from the table bolted to the floor. The moon shone through the window above the captain’s bed, shedding light on the man’s balding head. The map lay spread out, anchored by pins in the four corners. He would have to remove those pins. Ripping the paper would be too noisy.

Another interminable wait as the captain turned away from him in his sleep. His snores subsided.

He glanced over at the bunk. The pistol shone in the moonlight. One hard swallow. He never carried a pistol. Too loud. Pistols brought the crew, the wharf police, and anyone else interested in such activity. The only weapon he carried was a knife, tucked in the back of his breeches. A weapon of stealth.

Another count to ten before taking the final step. There was no time for an in-depth study of the map now, but a quick glance revealed the destination. The island of St. Helena, off the western coast of Africa, circled in bold scrawl. The map of the route planned for Bonaparte’s next escape. That bastard in the bed had been planning it.

All ten fingers itched to snatch the paper and run, but he forced himself to take a deep, silent breath. Carefully, he dislodged the first pin at the top right corner. It popped out easily. The top of the map rolled toward the center, making a slight flapping sound. Breath held, he glanced toward the captain again. No movement.

He stuck the pin back into the table to keep it from rolling, then his hand darted to the next pin at the bottom right corner. It also popped out easily. He quickly stuck it back into the wood. With two sides free, he carefully rolled the map toward the center. Reaching up to the top, he grasped the third pin. No movement. It was lodged deeply into the wood. Must pull harder. With one black-gloved hand, he clasped the pin between a thumb and two fingers, pulling upward with as much strength as he dared. His own breath in his ear was the only sound … that and the water lapping at the sides of the ship.

The pin finally gave way. He pressed a hand to the top of the map, to keep the freed top left corner from curling and making a noise. His chest and torso flattened against the map and the table, he pressed the third pin back into the wood.

Click. An unmistakable sound. One he had heard too often before. Another hard swallow. Damn it. He’d been so preoccupied with keeping quiet, he hadn’t realized the captain’s snores had subsided.

Half-splayed across the table, he contemplated his options. The door was ten paces to the left, the open window five paces to the right. Would he fit through the window? It’d be a hell of a time to learn the answer was no.

“Step away from zee map, if you don’t want a bullet through your back.” The captain’s voice was harsh and angry.

He slowly rose from his position hunched over the map, arms braced upright at right angles near his head to show the captain he had no weapon. “Ye wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man, now would ye, Cap’n?”

“I’d shoot a thief without thinking twice,” the captain replied with a sneer, nearly spitting the word thief.

He glanced down at the map. Studying it in case he was forced to leave without it. He had been in worse situations, more times than he could count. He considered the knife in the back of his breeches hidden beneath his shirt. It would be simple, easy and quick to snake it out and whip it into the bastard’s throat. But a voice in his head reminded him … justice must be served in proper course.

“Turn around,” the captain ordered. “Slowly.”

“Why?” he asked, trying to garner some precious time.

“Because I want to see zee face of zee man who would steal my secrets.”

He began his turn. Slowly. So slowly and so quietly that he could have sworn he heard a drop of sweat from his forehead hit the wooden plank of the floor. He finally stood facing the older man.

Êtes-vous le Renard Noir?” the captain asked.

Pourquoi veux tu savoir?”

Visible in the light of the moon, the captain narrowed his eyes. “Ah, perfect French? Why do I find zat difficult to believe from an obvious Englishman?”

“Obvious?”

“Who else would want zis map?”

His fingers ached to choke the bastard. He might not be able to kill him, but he could wound the scoundrel. Nothing wrong with a wound. He whipped his hand behind his back, grabbed the knife, and hurled it at the captain. It hit the arm that held the pistol. The captain howled. The pistol fired. Smoke filled the cabin with its acrid stench. He ripped the map and fourth pin from the table and ran to the door.

Steps sounded on the planks above the captain’s cabin. In the pitch black belowdecks, he forced himself to wait in the shadows under the stairs until the first group of rescuers filed down the steps into the captain’s cabin. He flattened the map’s scroll and folded it into a six-inch square.

“He’s escaped, you idiots! Find him before he jumps from the ship!” the captain yelled in French.

The group dutifully filed back up to spread across the decks. The captain came running out, clutching his injured arm, blood seeping between his fingers, crimson dripping down his nightshirt. He made his way up the stairs and ran off across the deck.

Springing from the shadows, he raced back into the empty cabin. He flew over to the window, said a brief prayer to fit through the tight space, hoisted up to the ledge, and pushed his upper body through. He ripped off his black tricorn, stuck the folded map to his head, and pulled down the hat as firmly as possible.

A rope swung outside the captain’s window two feet to the right. Thank God for small favors. He lunged at it and grabbed it. Noiselessly, he lowered himself down the rope, bracing both feet against the hull to rappel toward the water. Lowering quietly, he winked back at the figurehead of a saucy French woman carved beneath the captain’s cabin. As soon as he made it into the water, he let go of the rope and swam like a mackerel fleeing a shark toward the shore, careful to keep his head out of the foul-smelling drink. He counted on the black of night and the murky Thames to hide him from the searchers on the ship.

As he covered the distance between the French ship and the shore, he could hear the Frenchmen yelling and running about. He dared a glance back. Every lantern on the ship appeared to have been lit and the crew was scurrying about like a bevy of ants on an infiltrated hill.

He swam to the darkest spot on the far end of the docks, around the bend from sight of the French ship, and pulled himself ashore beneath a creaky dock using only his forearms. Exhausted, he rolled onto his back and lay breathing heavily in the pitch-black night. One hand went up to clap the top of his tricorn and a wide smile spread across his face.

He’d done it. He’d escaped from a French ship with the map detailing the planned route to rescue Napoleon from St. Helena. Of course he had. He was the Black Fox.

~Copyright © 2017 by Valerie Bowman and reprinted with the permission of St. Martin’s Paperbacks.