Audio Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: Resolution by Patricia Logan
Audio Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: Resolution By Patricia Logan
Narrated by Michael Dean
Trackers, Book 3
Raven and Miguel are still on a tough recovery case involving a rare pigeon’s blood ruby worth millions of dollars. There’s a very real threat hanging over their heads, and they’re stuck with a client they don’t exactly trust, her attorney whom they suspect is involved in the whole mess, and a man claiming to be a “friend” of the widow who looks more like an extra from a mobster movie.
They’ve had more action in the first few days than they ever wanted to. Opening a new recovery business shouldn’t be this dangerous, but then again, unexpected rogue CIA operatives trying to murder them wasn’t on the cards either. Unfortunately, only three have been caught, leaving at least one more out there, desperate to get his hands on a stolen shipment of gems.
When a moldering body turns up with Raven and Miguel’s names in his pocket, things really start heating up and the bullets start to fly. Making things even more complicated— every single government alphabet agency is getting in each other’s way, and trust is in short supply. Right when it seems there’s no way out, old friends inadvertently give them a clue how to get out of all this mess with their hides intact.
From the mean streets of Los Angeles to the tropical paradise of Grand Cayman, join Raven and Miguel in the exciting conclusion of the Trackers series.
“Hold up, Mac,” I said, grabbing his massive bicep. He stopped in his tracks. “You’ve got explosives training. Make sure you check the door for boobytraps.”
Mac flashed me a wicked grin. “I’m way ahead of you, Miguel. Thanks.”
I dropped my hand and let him take the lead, right behind Sorensen while I followed as Lincoln brought up the rear. “Someone told me you were cyber before becoming Mac’s partner, Lincoln.”
He laughed quietly. “Why on earth are you bringing that up now, Miguel?”
“I just thought about it.”
“Funny time, but okay, yeah, I used to be cyber. What’s your point?”
“Nothing.” I grinned. “Just wondered if shit like this is why you left desk work.”
“Of course, it is, Miguel, because it’s much more fun taking down the bad guys with a gun than a mouse.”
I chuckled to myself as we descended the stairs one at a time. At the bottom, the room opened to a wide landing made of inlaid bricks. In front of us was a brick archway with a fancy, carved door of sturdy oak and an iron latch. Behind it, I was certain we’d find the hostages. The tac team had been all through the rest of the property. We stood aside as the agent with the thermal imaging camera walked over. He held it up, scanning the door silently. We huddled around the small screen to get a peek at who was behind the door.
One person lay on the floor. The glow coming from the figure was dim, meaning the person was either very cold…or worse yet, dying as heat leached out of their body. Three others were seated beside the person on the floor, glowing slightly brighter. Two figures paced, one near what had to be the hostages, and another near the door, only a few feet from where we were standing. He was probably listening at the door because he knew we were coming. Unless he’d somehow been tipped off and gotten away, I could only assume Castillo was inside with the hostages. He no doubt had one of his men in there with them. Sorensen nodded at the agent and then motioned for us to walk several paces away, just around a bend in the wall, so we could have a conversation without being overheard.
“Castillo and one of his men have to be inside and it’s obvious to me that at least one of the hostages may already be dead,” Sorensen said, keeping his voice low.
I nodded, as did the others. “Chances are, Castillo is gonna kill the hostages if we breach,” I said.
“Do you see any other way of this playing out?” Lincoln remarked. “They’re going to die anyway. We don’t have a choice.”
Mac bent and pulled out a coil of det cord, handing it to Lincoln before extracting a tiny block of C-4 and a separate detonator. “I can use the det cord to blow the door, but it might not give us the surprise we want, as quick as we want. The C-4 would do the job, probably take out the sicario by the door, but with the blast, we stand the chance that it might kill or gravely wound the hostages.”
Surprisingly, Sorensen smiled. “I’ve got something better.” He bent down and pulled out two silver, cylindrical objects. They were about six by three inches and flat on one side. He handed them to Mac who was grinning as Sorensen reached into another pocket and pulled out a third.
“Mini breacher’s boots, nice,” the big man exclaimed. “I didn’t think to ask if you had access to them.”
Sorensen nodded. “Standard tactical issue. They’re packed with just enough explosive to get through a thick, wooden door and hopefully preserve life on the other side of it.”
“It’ll knock out the sicario by the door but then we’ll need to make rapid entry to take out Castillo, if he’s in there,” Lincoln added, “though, it’d be better if we can take him alive.”
“That’s what these are for,” I said, pulling out the flash bangs I had in my cargos.
“Good,” Lincoln said. “Mac, check the door for a boobytrap while Sorensen sets the breacher’s boots.”
Sorensen and Mac nodded, stepping around the wall to the door. We watched from our position with the other team members who’d come down behind us, while Mac checked for boobytraps. Sorensen peeled sticky tape off the back of the breacher’s boots, setting them on the doors. One nearest the latch and two others at the hinges, top and bottom. Once everything was in place and Mac had assured us that there’d be no secondary explosion triggered when they breached, Sorensen waved us all back into place behind the wall. Mac handed me a flash bang grenade, and I readied myself for something I hadn’t done in almost twelve years.
“You do the honors, Miguel,” he said.
I nodded, confident in my role. Sorensen held up a hand and counted down on five fingers before pressing the detonator. The door blew outward and we ducked back behind the wall only long enough to avoid being struck by the splintering wood before Mac and I rushed forward, throwing the flashbangs into the room. I held my rifle at the ready and followed Sorensen into the room with Mac and Lincoln at my side. The sicario nearest the door was down but still moving, covered in debris, face obscured by blood. Sorensen didn’t stop to ask questions before putting a bullet in the middle of the man’s forehead.
I’ve always been a sucker for a guy with muscles and a handsome face. If that makes me sound shallow, maybe I am. I’ve never had a real relationship, unless you consider the guys in my Marine Corps Recon unit. I had a great relationship with those guys. Yeah, yeah, I know we’re splitting hairs. These days, long after my retirement from active duty, the only kind of relationships I really do now are with fictional characters.
I love to read, and in fact lately, I’ve been frequenting the pages of my favorite blog, Bestreads, to escape my real-life job, one I’m not very well suited for. One reviewer on there—Nightcrawler—absolutely slays me. He always makes me laugh, steering me clear of some of the worst trash out there when I’m not trying to earn money as a bounty hunter. Maybe someday the right man will come along, and he won’t simply be a book boyfriend.
Someday.
Lately, I can’t get intrigued by any of the guys I’ve met in bars. Hookups are becoming less and less interesting for me. I’m a reader and of late, I’m also a half decent reviewer. I work exclusively for a blog called Bestreads, working under the name of Nightcrawler and I’m not ashamed to admit, I try to make them funny. In my line of work as a recovery agent for a big insurance company, I’m finding my off hours much more pleasurable. I think about my next review and my next blog post all the time. Whenever I put up a funny two-star review, I dream of the guy who might be at home reading it, but pretty sure the kind of man who reads me, is probably living in his mother’s basement. Still, I’m a romantic at heart. Someday I might just run into him in one of my stories.
Though Raven Mathis and Miguel Huerta have recently opened their new recovery business, doing things they used to do on their own, things haven’t been going so well. But some things have gone right. They’ve settled down in Nana’s house and are deeply in love. And they’re getting accustomed to working as partners, but business is slow. But when they get a call asking if they can help recover a valuable pigeon’s blood ruby, they jump at the chance, even though they’re advised to carry guns.
When the man Miguel left for dead in the desert long ago unexpectedly shows up at their first meeting with their new client, the request that they come armed, suddenly becomes a harsh reality. Miguel is in total disbelief as he’s abruptly faced with a ghost who might be out for blood. And when a dark stranger starts making threats, things start spiraling out of control. Miguel hates the fact that Raven is in terrible danger, and how is his former lover involved?
Figuring out how to navigate Miguel’s past may prove harder to overcome than they realize. It’s a lot to ask of Raven. Will their love for each other be enough? The rush to figure out why operatives are targeting them becomes a necessity, and though Miguel hates it, he realizes he may just have to rely on a few new colleagues to help.
He knows one thing, though…killing the man he’d once been in love with, might be the only way to save Raven.
International bestselling author Patricia Logan, resides in Los Angeles, California. The author of over 75 books and nearly 65 audios including several #1 bestselling gay romances, lives in a small house with a large family. She loves to write about male heroes and the men who love them. Found families are a particular theme throughout her books. She likes to think that she infuses a wide variety of life’s experiences in every book and please trust her when she says all her books come packed with emotion and unbridled humor.
When she’s not writing her next law enforcement mystery, her next paranormal, or her next BDSM romance, she’s watching her grandchildren grow up way too soon and raising kids who make her proud every day. One of her favorite tasks is coaxing nose kisses from cats who insist on flopping on her keyboard while she types. Married to a wonderful man for nearly 40 years, she counts herself lucky to be surrounded by people who love her and give her stories to tell every day.
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Email her at patricialogan.author@yahoo.com. She loves to hear from readers more than anything and will respond to all emails.
