To
the Edge
A
Heroes at the Brink Novel
Anna
del Mar
Genre:
Erotic Romance
Publisher:
Carina Press
Date
of Publication: November 14th, 2016
ISBN:
9781459294387
Number
of pages: 297 pages approx.
Word
Count: 104,000
Cover
Artist: Carina Press
Book
Description:
To
learn about kink, she had to learn the ropes. Yet she never expected
to be so compromised she'd need rescuing. And by him. The first man
she'd ever loved. The former navy SEAL who'd broken her heart.
Clara's
gone wild.
Naked.
Cuffed. Caged. Is this the sweet senator’s daughter I left behind?
I
didn't know it was her when I rushed into that room filled with
flames, but I'll never let her go again.
She’s
proposed a unique way to thank me. It could bring us both to the edge
of ecstasy—or to the point of no return.
Clara
wants to submit. To me. Totally. Damn any limits. The very thought of
it has brought me back from the dead.
But
a stranger is watching from the shadows. He’s made us his fantasy.
And he plays rougher than I do. Where he’s taking us now is
somewhere so dark, and so dangerous, that this time it could be
inescapable.
Excerpt:
I’m
so excited to introduce to you my newest hero, Noah Blake, the
protagonist of my latest release, To
the Edge. To the
Edge is about Noah Blake and Clara Luz, a
couple who stole my heart and fired my imagination in this second
chance love story. In a nutshell: To learn
about kink, Clara had to learn the ropes. Yet she never expected to
be so compromised she'd need rescuing. And by him. Noah Blake. The
first man she'd ever loved. The former navy SEAL who'd broken her
heart.
You all
may remember that I write stories about strong heroines struggling to
find their place in the world and the brave, sexy, kickass heroes who
will fight to protect them with all they’ve got. Some of my stories
are romantic suspense, like The
Asset and The
Stranger. Some are erotic romances, like
At
the Brink. If you liked At
the Brink, you will love To
the Edge. Honestly? It’s the sexiest,
kinkiest, erotic romance I’ve written to date.
Today,
I’m delighted to share the second chapter of To
the Edge, the first time we meet Noah Blake, a
brawny, brainy ex-SEAL determined to
reclaim Clara’s heart and fight for redemption to the very edge of
sexual obsession.
Enjoy!
AdM
Chapter
Two
Noah
The cloud
blackening the sky above my kitchen window alerted me to the sort of
trouble I didn’t need. My senses ratcheted to high alert. I downed
the last of my protein shake, plunked the glass on the counter and
raced upstairs. It was a fluke that I’d left my office in the
middle of the day and spotted the smoke at all, but after stalking my
prey for forty-two hours straight, my eyes needed a break.
For
several days now, my team and I had been trailing one of the world’s
most wanted, a terrorist with many aliases, code named Josephus. He
was the mastermind of a series of lethal attacks on Americans abroad.
His deadliest role included recruiting disaffected children of the
West to kill their own kind, something he did over the Internet and
the Dark Net with infuriating regularity.
My team
and I had already identified and helped capture most of Josephus’s
recent contacts, but I was determined to get the fucker. I’d traced
the asshole all the way to Spain. The takedown operators had reported
they’d missed him by less than five minutes. The snake had
slithered away at the last minute, but the raid had netted the rest
of his cell, including his cousin Rashid, who was now in paradise
fucking a bunch of ex-virgins. Son of a bitch. I was going to get
Josephus.
I reached
the top of the spiral steps, barged into the octagonal room at the
top of my newly restored widow’s walk and grabbed the binoculars.
From my perch high above the ground, the profile of a single roof
pierced the tree line west of me. Sure enough, a column of smoke rose
from the clearing, billowing from the only other house remotely close
to mine, a place I knew well.
Dammit. We
didn’t have a fire station on Avalon Island. We did have a loosely
organized volunteer fire crew, mostly composed of local fishermen who
weren’t sitting around waiting to fight a fire at the moment. Even
if I gave the alert, it’d be at least thirty minutes before anyone
showed up. Hell, if anyone was trapped in the house, they’d be
toast by the time the fire crew got there.
I ran down
two flights of stairs. What the hell was going on? In the past two
years, no one had visited the Luz compound, not even summer renters.
In any case, the island’s brief summer season was over. Leaden
clouds darkened the afternoon and the Chesapeake Bay roiled in
advance of an October gale.
I jammed
my arms in my jacket and rushed out the back door, coming to a
screeching halt at the end of the deck. My body refused to move
forward. An invisible barrier held me back, jolting me like an
electrified fence. My heart boomed. Slowly, I put a tentative foot on
the ground. The lawn bulged and pulsed under my shoe. I gritted my
teeth. Tick-tock, a countdown began in my mind. Shit. I jerked my
foot back.
“There
are no improvised explosive devices buried in the yard,” I
muttered, pacing the deck, trying to impose logic over irrational
emotion. “Stick to reality, Noah.”
None of my
frozen muscles reacted to my brain’s logical appeal.
“Fuck
this.” I stalked back into the house and kicked the door shut. “You
fucking coward.”
I plopped
down at the base of the stairs, raked my fingers through my hair and
sank my face into my hands. How the hell had I turned into such a
useless pile of crap? I wasn’t some ignorant grunt. I was an
ex-Navy SEAL and a high-level intelligence operative. I’d fought
wars, infiltrated hostile countries and hunted the world’s most
dangerous terrorists, yet here I was, trapped in my own house. What a
joke. I pressed at my temples. Someone could be in danger and all I
could do was watch from afar.
I clenched
my jaw so hard that my teeth ached. Even a piece of shit like me had
to admit that the house currently on fire was the number one reason
why I’d chosen this place for my self-inflicted exile. The Luz
compound was one of the few places on earth I associated with
happiness. Those memories were the only thing I had left. Would they
evaporate like so many other things in my life if the house burned?
Hell, no.
I couldn’t let the memories go. Not yet, anyway.
My gaze
fell on the little green bottle on the kitchen counter. The last time
I’d had some of that, I’d been sick for days. But it had allowed
me to make it through the funeral. I’d even gone to the grocery
store for a few minutes. LCOS, the guys from the support group liked
to call it, liquid courage on steroids.
I got to
my feet and made my way to the counter. I picked up the bottle and
rolled it between my fingers. No label, no warnings, nothing. Home
brewed by some biochemically savvy veteran in his basement and most
definitively not FDA approved. If it were any other uninhabited house
on the island, I might have called it in and been done with it. But
this was the Luz house. I couldn’t let go. What the hell. I
unscrewed the top of the bottle and, after suctioning half a measure
into the glass dropper, squeezed it underneath my tongue.
Bitter.
Sharp. Sour. My taste buds screeched. The poison set my throat
ablaze. I shut my eyes, gritted my teeth, and clutched the counter
until the world stopped whirling. Toxic. That’s how the stuff felt
as it burned through my body. As if it was killing me, right before
it freed me.
Thirty
seconds later, I could think again. That’s when the vascular spasm
hit me. My toes and fingers went numb and my fingertips turned white,
all side effects from the liquid courage. It would take a few minutes
to work, but the Luz house was burning right now.
I forced
myself out the door, onto the deck and down the steps. I closed my
eyes and, heart pummeling my ribs, settled a boot on the lawn.
Nothing exploded. I let out a rattling breath and took another step.
I edged my way across the trees, fighting an irrational impulse to
run back to my cottage and the false assumption that I’d be safe in
there. Safe from this moment, maybe, but not safe from myself.
“Mind
over matter,” I muttered to myself. “Baby steps. Fear is the mind
killer.” Whatever cliché worked, it didn’t matter. I forced
myself forward, hoping that the stuff I’d taken would kick in soon.
About
the Author:
Amazon
bestselling author Anna del Mar writes hot, smart romances that
soothe the soul, challenge the mind, and satisfy the heart. Her
stories are about strong heroines struggling to find their place in
the world and the brave, sexy, kickass, military heroes who defy
their limits to protect the women they love. She’s the author of
The Asset, The Stranger, At the Brink and her newest erotic romance,
To the Edge. Anna enjoys traveling, hiking, skiing, and the sea.
Writing is her addiction, her drug of choice, and what she wants to
do all the time. The extraordinary men and women she met during her
years as a Navy wife inspire the fabulous heroes and heroines at the
center of her stories. When she stays put—which doesn’t happen
very often—she lives in Florida with her indulgent husband and two
very opinionated cats.
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