And then! The email list service imploded!

Okay, it was nothing so dramatic-- but they did have a little glitch right when I sent last week's email and it's entirely likely that several of y'all didn't even get it!

Sometimes it's me. Sometimes I just space out for whatever reason and forget to put out an email for the week-- but if you ever want to check and see if maybe an email went out and it just didn't show up in your inbox, you can always check the feed that shows my email history at https://sendfox.com/rocklynwrites/feed

There's no way for me to separate that feed between my individual lists, or to choose which emails show up or not (I am not pleased about that) so be aware that not all the emails were supposed to show up in your inbox! (clearly distinguished by the language they are written in-- with a lot of translation help-- for my non English readers.)

But hey! Enough babbling about the technical background noise, right? I promised a peak!

(I love this cover so much!)

Prologue

Harlan Frost

An entire goddamn year without a sign of trouble, and now I'm staring at a report from the men I left in Paradise Point that says we've got new activity in the mountains out there.

Something like excitement pricks at my skin.

I was worried our little party-crashing event last summer had caused them to move their route. If that happened, it could have taken years for us to track them down again.

Looks like they decided they've laid low long enough.

Sagan's report tells me we got what we were hoping for. Now it's time to put together a team that I can rely on to ensure that we rip this weed out by the roots.

Sag and Leo have been on the mountain since last year. You'd think those two could manage to stay out of trouble in a small town with an entire fucking mountain range to entertain themselves with, but they've already made sure the local law enforcement knows who they are-- and doesn't like them.

Fortunately, my Rogue Ops teams are exactly that-- rogue. We work underground and on our own terms.

Risky, sure. We don't ask permission, we don't take the "proper" channels, and we follow our own protocols, but we get shit done and we do it without the time-wasting bureaucracy that costs more lives than I'm willing to spare.

Sorting through the files I have open on the screen in front of me, I mentally compose the team I'll be setting up in Paradise Point for this mission.

Cap's been out there with us twice, he knows the area and he works well with the other men. Plus, I like knowing his medical skills are available if shit goes sideways.

God knows there's not much out that way for hospitals, and I'd rather keep my men's healthcare off the record.

I add the Ward boys to the list. I don't usually like pairing brothers on the same team, but Austin and Jay work best when they're together-- and their past is an advantage when we're taking on the kind of criminals that make people disappear.

Plus, Jay gets along with Leo, so I should be able to bank on my team not breaking down from within.

That leaves one position open.

My finger slides over the touch pad, moving the remaining candidates across my monitor.

Wells and Martinez are out on other assignments. They both work well with the others and have the experience to work a job in those mountains, but I don't want to pull them off their current assignments.

Frost Securities has over a hundred men and women employed in the perfectly legitimate business of providing security for high profile clients and events. Most of them from military and law enforcement backgrounds. Most of them with no clue that the company funds a second business; one that deals with higher risk-- and higher reward-- cases.

Rogue is one hundred percent off the books, and there are only a few dozen people on the planet that know the operation exists.

That means it's time to recruit new blood.

I compare two files side by side on the screen.

Looks like it's Talon Avis's lucky day.

Chapter 1

Talon

"You're new."

The man glowering at me from the doorway says it like an accusation. I'm pretty sure he's not planning on stepping aside and letting me in ,and I mentally calculate half a dozen ways I can change that.

"Frost said I was expected."

Unfortunately, five out of six of my plans all end up with my new teammate on the floor; bleeding, broken, or just plain dead. That doesn't seem like a good way to make friends, so I try the polite conversation route first.

"Doesn't mean you're welcome."

The man blocking my entry to the house I'm supposed to be sharing with five other men for the duration of our assignment is about my height, somewhere in the neighborhood of six, two, I estimate. He's broad in the shoulders with a barrel chest that makes a pretty fucking effective door.

My eyes make a quick tour down the man's imposing figure, taking in the wide legged stance, the slight bend to his knees, and the boots firmly planted at shoulder width; posture that looks casual to the untrained eye, but tells me that he's thinking through the same list of scenarios to get me out of his way that I just did about him.

I like him already.

The boss warned me that Hunter Sagan wouldn't be happy to see me.

The titanium post running between the man's boot and the place where the fabric of his black cargo pants has been cinched below the knee of what's left of his left leg makes identifying him easy enough.

I adjust my posture slightly, still ready for the possibility of a fight, but trying to look less like I'm going to the be the one who starts it.

Harlan also warned me not to get distracted by Sag's prosthetic-- or fooled by it.

"Still here," I point out, keeping my voice casual but firm.

Sagan continues to glare at me and I hold eye contact with him, refusing to be the first to blink.

We both know he's gotta let me in eventually.

Out of the hundreds of men and woman employed by Frost Security, I was hand-picked by Harlan Frost personally to be his newest recruit in the far lower-profile organization he operates on the side. And when I say "low profile," I mean "invisible."

When the man I've been working for since I discharged from the Army four years ago, called me to the head office in Montana to meet with him in person, I wasn't ready for what he told me. But you can believe I jumped at the offer to join the exclusive list of personnel making up the teams he told me about.

There wasn't a chance in hell that I was going to keep on playing bodyguard to privileged and wealthy clients in the private security business when I could be working to eliminate real evil from the world.

Especially if it means putting my skills to use. Even if it means working in the shadows as part of a team of what amounts to little more than vigilante outlaws.

"Stand down, soldier."

Another man taps my door guard on the shoulder, saying the words with almost impatient sarcasm.

"He's one of us now, Sag, like it or not."

The big man gives me another glare that makes it pretty clear which way he's leaning on the subject, but reluctantly steps out of the doorway.

"Austin Ward." The man who lets me in introduces himself with a handshake that's not quite as friendly as the smile on his face.

"Talon Avis," I return, dropping his hand after the customary grip that's little more than a dick measuring contest.

"You'll be bunking with Cap," he tells me, leading me into a bedroom with twin beds on opposite walls. "He's still wrapping up whatever he's been on, but he's due in any day so don't get too used to the privacy."

I drop my duffle on one bed, and follow Austin as he leads me into the back of the house. There's a rec room back here that's part man cave, part operations HQ; computer monitors lining one wall, a pool table taking up the center of the room.

"Eaton. You know Sag. The other Ward-- my brother, Jay."

Austin points in the general direction of the men corresponding to each name as he says them. Eaton-- Leopold, I remember from Harlan's briefing-- ignores me as he leans over the pool table.

The shot is impressive; a trick set-up that sets off a chain reaction and sinks three balls in separate pockets.

Leo's a sniper. If he handles a rifle like he handles a pool cue, I doubt he's ever missed a target.

Harlan didn't give me much info on the men I'm teamed with, outside of names and their primary functions in the team. I know we're all ex-military, but I got the impression that not all of us would do it again.

My eyes travel to Sagan's missing leg-- which he uses to kick Leo with.

"Fucker," the big man grumbles, as he gets to his feet and studies the balls left on the table before calling his shot.

Jaden Ward acknowledges me from across the room, where his attention hasn't left the computer monitor in front of him, even as he picks up the phone on the desktop beside his keyboard as it buzzes with an incoming call.

Now that Leo's focus is off the pool table, he leans back in the cushions of the leather sofa that Sagan was sitting on before and aims a look of obvious scrutiny up at me.

"Hey, guys." Jay turns his chair to face the room as he ends his call and sets the phone back on the desk. "We might have something here. The rangers just brought a girl in. Deputy says she's telling them that her hiking partner was taken off the trail while they were backpacking-- "

Austin and Leo both stand, alert and ready to head out on a moment's notice.

"Don't get too excited just yet," Jay waves the men down. "She's also talking about Bigfoot or some shit."

Leo falls back onto the couch, suddenly much less interested.

"Doesn't sound like a real reliable witness then," Austin acknowledges.

"So what does Deputy Shithead want us to do about it?" Leo asks.

Jay gives him a tired look, one that tells a long story about how well these men know one another.

"He wants one of us to come down and take her off his hands," he explains.

"Said he figured this is what we're here for."

Each of the men around me snorts, curses, or does some combination of both.

"He's not wrong," Austin scolds.

"Fine, send the new kid," Sagan says, switching places with Leo again.

"Yeah, I'm not in the mood to go make nice with those assholes today. Let Avis earn his keep around here."

I don't bother with any more of the guys' bullshitting. This is what we're here for. As soon as I have the details from Jay, I'm headed down to the town's local police station... with a heads-up that the local officers might be slightly less friendly than Sag and Leo have been.

***

Arizona

"Are you willing to submit to a drug test?"

The question comes out of left field and strikes me as entirely inappropriate.

"Why would I need to do that?" I question the woman behind the desk whose been taking notes nonstop since the ranger brought me here.

The woman doesn't answer me. Just keeps scribbling on her tablet without acknowledging me.

"Are you going to send anyone up there?" I ask, my voice sounding a bit more hysterical than I'd like.

Still nothing.

"HEY!" My hand slams down, open-palmed, over the fucking pad of paper on the desk between me and Officer Don't-Give-A-Fuck. "My friend is missing up there. Are you guys going to send someone to go look for her or not?"

The woman looks up at me coolly, her eyes narrowing.

"You said Bigfoot abducted your friend." She tells me, deadpan. "Paradise Point is a small community. We don't have the resources to support a Bigfoot task force. I'm sure your friend will find her way back to the trailhead on her own."

She's already on her feet and knocking to be let out of the small room where I've spent the last hour explaining what happened to local law enforcement officers who clearly don't believe me.

"I never said 'Bigfoot!'" I shout at the bitch's retreating back as she leaves me in the room without acknowledging me.

The man who opened the door to let her out gives me a look that's not anywhere close to sympathetic or compassionate. Just a smirk as he closes the door that makes it very clear what they think of me here.

They think I'm stoned out of my gourd.

Or, more likely, tripping on shrooms or some other hallucinogenic substance that I'm sure plenty of people do take while they're camping in these mountains.

Maybe if I let them draw my blood, they'll take me seriously and start a search and rescue operation to find Astrid.

Completely out of patience at this point, I hurl my paper cup of terrible coffee at the back of the closed door, only slightly satisfied at the mess the dark liquid makes as it splatters around the room and pools on the floor.

I never fucking said 'Bigfoot.'

I said "something."

Men took Astrid. Normal, human men. With guns. Then something went after them as they disappeared into the forest.

Something that looked plenty human enough from what I saw; walking upright on two legs and all. It's just that it was really tall and maybe its arms hung too far down, and it left claw marks on the tree trunk as it took off running into the shadows.

Stupid me. I thought running back to the trailhead and flagging down a ranger was the right thing to do when someone grabs your hiking partner and marches them into the woods at gunpoint.

Kicking the desk in frustration, I finally jump to my feet and grab the door handle, utterly shocked when it turns out it's not locked.

Why the hell do they keep having to knock to be let out if the door's not locked?

"Hey! Is anybody listening to me? My friend was kidnapped out there!"

The police station in Paradise Point is an old, brick building that was updated sometime in the nineteen seventies to make the interior office space as miserable as possible. The ceilings are dropped down with acoustical tiles and fluorescent lights that flicker and buzz while filling the rooms with an utterly sickening quality of light.

No wonder the people that work here are so grumpy.

It must suck to be stuck in this place when right outside your door is a gorgeous mountain landscape full of fresh air and real sunlight.

The room I was in was a windowless closet with dark wood paneling on the walls and a metal desk bolted to the floor. Finding my way through the hallway and back into the main lobby isn't too difficult, I can hear voices around the corner ahead of me and I burst into the bullpen still screaming about sending someone up to our camp to find Astrid.

Until the two uniformed officers that have shown zero interest in my story turn away from the man at the counter in front of them and all of them stop talking to stare at me.

"No one's gone out to check her story?"

The man at the counter sounds pissed as he stares at me first, then turns toward the officers.

The scrawny guy that smirked at me earlier suddenly seems a lot less cocky.

"The uh, ranger went back up to take a look," he tells the man, his voice cracking nervously under the man's glare.

"You have a missing woman in your woods and an eye witness who says her friend was abducted at gun point and you're acting like it's a goddamn practical joke? Is this how Paradise Point handles missing persons reports?"

"They think I'm high." I tell him as I join their group.

"Are you?"

Whoever this guy is, he's obviously used to being in charge. He's got a presence to him, if you know what I mean. Under entirely different circumstances, I'd be happy to get on my knees and call him daddy.

He's jacked, with muscles that are putting a serious strain on the gray t-shirt that's practically painted over his torso, dark cargo pants cover his lower half.

The tactical kind, tucked into tall hunting-- or more like combat-- boots.

With the cropped hair cut that's only slightly longer on top than a buzz cut and only a shadow of scruff on his very square jaw, he looks military.

Now might be an inappropriate time to have my body light up with need but damn-- this man has me ready to be very inappropriate.

"No." I answer his question, putting extra emphasis on the single word for the sake of the officers in the room who clearly don't believe me.

Ice blue eyes regard me carefully.

I stand straight and stare right back.

Hoping he can tell I'm dead cold sober, and doesn't notice the way my nipples have hardened like they're begging for his approval.

"We'll release her to you if you're willing to take responsibility for her."

I stare, open-mouthed at the female officer, and the man in front of her takes his eyes off me to land a confused look at her as well.

"Is there some reason she's not free to go on her own?"

The woman shrugs, shuffling papers on the counter and moving a mouse to wake up the computer beside her.

"Chief said we had to hold her unless someone picks her up... in case she needs supervision."

The man who suddenly seems to be my only way out of here tonight signs a paper that the officer sets in front of him, sliding it back with an exasperated sigh that says I'm not the only one holding my tongue so I don't say what I'm really thinking.

"Arizona Harper, you're free to accompany Mr. Avis off the premises."

And just like that, I'm walking out of the Paradise Point police station with the hottest man I've ever seen-- without a clue who he is, why he's here, or if he believes me.

That's the first full chapter, plus the prologue by Harlan, as it currently exists in all its naked, unedited glory.

What do you think?

From over here on my side of the writing cave, I think I'm way behind schedule on this book. And it would be handy for real life to move to the back of the line because the further I get into Talon and Zona's story, the more I'm dying to find out what's going on! (Yeah, I don't really know yet. I'm one of those writers.)

But I'm getting to meet the rest of the team through Talon's eyes as their newest member and through Zona's eyes-- she's really unsure about Leo and Sag at this point. (The author, however, is quickly developing a hard crush on the legless man and cannot wait for his book! The author is going to have to be patient.)

I'm having fun writing in an entirely new town, where the locals are nothing like the folks back in Moonshine Ridge.

With luck, I'll be back next week with a firm release date.

Feel free to hit reply and tell me what you think so far!

~Rocklyn

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