
Bioethicist Jessica Croft, estranged daughter of a federal judge, has avoided the players, power, and passions of Washington, DC. But when her sister’s suspicious death is classified as natural, Jessie resolves to expose the murderer. Pursuing elite suspects on both sides of the stem-cell-research debate leads her to security consultant Michael Gillette, who knows more about her sister than he’ll admit.
Michael has a vested interest in Jessie’s plight. Her sister died on his watch—while he wasn’t watching. His plan to find her murderer becomes complicated when Jessie’s father hires him to protect Jessie, and his interest turns from professional…to romantic.
Jessie and Michael must unravel a mystery rife with political agendas and deceit. When confidential papers reveal a fertility scandal surrounding the enigmatic Girl Three, the two realize the danger of exposing the truth.
Who is Girl Three?
And will the murderer kill again to keep a secret?
Buy: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Book Depository
EXCERPT
Award-winning author Tracy March writes romantic thrillers influenced by her career in the pharmaceutical field, and her interest in science and politics. She also writes lighthearted romances inspired by her real-life happily ever after
Always up for travel and adventure, Tracy has flown in a stunt plane, snowmobiled on the Continental Divide, ziplined in the Swiss Alps, and been chased by a bull in the mountains of St. Lucia. She loves Nationals baseball, Saturday date nights, and Dairy Queen Blizzards—and rarely goes a day without Diet Coke and Cheez-Its.
Website | Goodreads | Twitter | Facebook
Buy: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Book Depository
EXCERPT
The knock on the door came at seven p.m. Michael steadied his breathing and dismissed his nerves, thanking the Secret Service for the leftover skills. He took a moment to visualize the meeting going well, but couldn’t see it happening. Sam had died on his watch. While he wasn’t watching.
Convinced his emotions were under control, he opened the door. But at the sight of Croft, a tide of guilt rose in his gut. “Hello, sir.” He wiped his hand on his shirt, then extended it. Croft shook it with a tight, dry grip.
“I’m so sorry about Sam,” Michael said with a steady voice. “It’s unbelievable.”
Unbelievable was an understatement. Sam’s allegedly natural death had been too timely, too quiet, and too convenient for way too many people. A nuclear blast of intuition told him there’d been foul play. He’d spent the last two days sifting through the fallout, looking for evidence that hadn’t already been buried, but finding none. His nudge-and-whisper sources hinted that there had been few official questions about Sam’s death. The vanilla answers that seemed palatable to everyone else would take a chaser for Michael to swallow.
Croft walked ahead of him into the apartment and surveyed the wall of lifeless high-tech electronics. “When a twenty-six-year-old dies, it shocks everyone.” He didn’t sound shocked.
“I keep thinking about the last few times I saw her,” Michael said. “And replaying the scenes in my mind.”
Croft rubbed his palms together, an involuntary tell that Michael had seen before, a signal that Croft had a plan. “I’m holding a private memorial service for her tomorrow, and that will be the end of things.”
“I’ll be there,” Michael said, relieved. He’d attend the service, then bury his ties to Croft in Sam’s grave.
“I don’t want you there. I’m just letting you know what to expect.”
Michael inhaled sharply, his temper triggered by Croft’s callousness. “You expect me to get over what happened with Sam, move out of this apartment, and find another job. But most of all, you expect me to keep my mouth shut about everything that’s happened during the last two years.”
Croft checked Michael with a threatening glare. “I warned you not to get attached to Sam. There was even language in the contract.”
Michael hadn’t had a relationship with Sam. As Croft had said, they were simply acquaintances—platonic at that. Michael had adhered to his contract, but he couldn’t help having felt protective toward Sam. She’d been his responsibility. At least, that was the way he’d seen it. “Sam is dead. How I feel about her doesn’t matter anymore.”
“True. And I recommend you get over it.” Croft stood and straightened to his arrogant stance. “By tomorrow.”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“I’m offering you an extension of your job. Same protocol, similar contract, amended clause as discussed. With a change of name for your assignee. My daughter Jessica is coming for Sam’s memorial,” Croft said. “She’ll be in town for a while.”
Michael wondered why. She must have a life somewhere else. “You sure about that?”
“Don’t doubt me,” Croft said. “And there’s another change in the contract. Instead of our usual arrangement, I’ll need you twenty-four seven for the next week or two.” Croft pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Enough to persuade you to sign the contract.” He tapped Michael’s chest with a corner of the envelope. “Keep me informed and mind your boundaries. No one, including Jessica, should know you’re on the job. Keep your distance from her. Pull this one off, and I’ll keep those security consulting jobs coming your way. You’ll always have opportunities in DC.”
Cornered, Michael calculated his risks. As a security consultant, he’d cultivated an impressive list of clients—mostly thanks to Croft. Michael’s connections had allowed him access to many of the events Sam attended, and he’d built the basis of what could now become a lucrative career. But if he didn’t take this final job with Croft, the judge would blackball him in DC. He’d be out of Croft’s crosshairs, but also out of work.
“You in?” Croft asked.
----------------------
Award-winning author Tracy March writes romantic thrillers influenced by her career in the pharmaceutical field, and her interest in science and politics. She also writes lighthearted romances inspired by her real-life happily ever afterAlways up for travel and adventure, Tracy has flown in a stunt plane, snowmobiled on the Continental Divide, ziplined in the Swiss Alps, and been chased by a bull in the mountains of St. Lucia. She loves Nationals baseball, Saturday date nights, and Dairy Queen Blizzards—and rarely goes a day without Diet Coke and Cheez-Its.
Website | Goodreads | Twitter | Facebook
TOUR-WIDE GIVEAWAY
a Rafflecopter giveaway











