Revenge. Greed. Murder. And an insatiable passion…
When a drunk driver ends the life of her sister and her unborn child, Silk O’Connor resolves to take justice into her own hands.
Jake Marshall is a decorated soldier on leave, filling in for a friend at Sterling Security—and protecting the very man who used his car as a weapon and murdered Silk’s only family.
The two clash when Jake finds Silk preparing to mete out her own frontier-style brand of justice from the courthouse roof…and the adrenaline-fueled high-stakes world it ensnares the pair in will test them to their absolute limit.
It’s a fight for survival as they’re forced to team up to dispense justice on an international scale when thrust into the evil world of sex trafficking. With time running out for Silk and Jake, it just might be a fight to the death!
January Bain is an extraordinary author who has great talent in capturing the story and creating memorable characters. Romantic suspense is not easy to write. You must create characters who are vibrant and electric, make sure neither the romance nor the suspense overshadow each other, and craft a story that keeps the reader on edge from beginning to end. January Bain has done just that with RACING PERIL. It is one of my personal favorites and I know it will be one of yours, too. Thank you, January, for writing such an excellent story. This is a real treat for readers. I hope there are more like this to follow.
USA Today and Amazon bestselling author
From the editor, Rebecca Fairfax: “I love the unique ‘Januaryness’ January Bain brings to her writing. It’s a blend of her immense imagination, her fully rounded characters, her well-researched stories, the fast pace she tells them at and it’s all wrapped up in her love for what she does and sprinkled right through with her Canadianism. You can’t go wrong with one of her books, whether it’s the fun, sexy romps of her Brass Ringers series or the high-octane blast of this romantic suspense series. Just read Racing Peril and you’ll be rushing for book two, Racing the Tide!”
The seconds ticked by while Silk O’Connor peered through the scope of the .300 Winchester Magnum. It wasn’t her usual choice of weapon. She preferred something a little more up close and personal in her job as a PI.
“Justice for Ashley!”
It was time. The news conference was starting. She shifted from her prone position and stretched out farther on her stomach, moving her body slightly forward.
She’d held the stance for the past hour with the rifle braced on bipod legs, situated 860 yards from the Los Angeles Superior Court, Stanley Mosk Courthouse Grant Street entrance with its distinctive terra cotta figures. They had been designed to represent the Foundations of the Law, the Magna Carta, English Common Law, and the Declaration of Independence, but today the classically robed men of honor standing so nobly for justice might just might want to crawl down off that façade if they knew how it had been bought and paid for in the courthouse beneath their feet. By an uber-corrupt rich man.
The people screaming from the sidewalk as the asshole was hustled out of the entrance were right. The shit-bag was scum. He was evil incarnate, hiding his murdering proclivities for partying and driving drunk under a handsome mug that made her want to puke. She spat out her now tasteless gum onto the flat tarred roof softened by the harsh L.A. sunshine, the air percolating with the oily fumes.
She squinted through the scope. Her vantage point, reconnoitered weeks ago, gave an unobstructed view of the press conference. She was primed to catch the exact right split second. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she’d neglected to eat that day. Later. Do the job first.But even her well-trained mind could not help reliving the crime that had led to this exact juncture. The images stalked her, day and night, the ghosts demanding justice for their murder at the hands of a psychopath who had no qualms taking chances with another person’s life, driving drunk one time too many.
The call had come about ten in the morning from her contact at the LAPD. She had raced to the scene of the two-vehicle crash only a few blocks away from the house in North Hollywood she’d been living in with her sister—her only living relative. They had been living together since college days, offering each other support over losing their parents and then their beloved brother Jackson. He had paid the ultimate price of war six months earlier while gaining one more medal for his broad chest during his second, and final, tour of duty in Iraq.
Violent images tore into her, pointed shards scraping her soul threadbare. The crunch of the hydraulic jaws of life, the firemen struggling, grunting and groaning, to extract her blood-covered sister. She died reaching out to touch her arm, murmuring,I’m sorry, Silk, I have to leave you now.Take care of my baby. Her bloody white hand pressed to her pregnant belly. The white face of the other driver as he staggered under the influence and collapsed on the ground whimpering that he was sorry.
Too little. Too late.
She pushed the harsh images aside and took careful aim through the scope. Perfect conditions. Not a trace of wind and the air quality was fairly decent today. One of the lawyers stepped up to the podium. He adjusted the microphone. Her finger froze in place on the trigger, waited. Time to correct a wrong. Scumbag was not going to get away with murder. Not while she was alive to mete out fair justice. Even if she paid the ultimate price of her own life. She had none left, anyway.
“Ladies and gentlemen. I want to thank—”
The outside world silenced. Firing a rifle over such a long distance was a confluence of many things: chemistry, mechanical engineering, optics, geophysics and meteorology—all taught to her by an excellent marksman, a former Marine sniper who also happened to be her own brother. She knew the exact distance she needed to aim above the target to allow for the curvature of the Earth and the pull of gravity to put the bullet exactly where she wanted it to go. This rare day of the air being calm would help. She’d watched the leaves at the courthouse and nothing moved. She aimed the muzzle ten feet above the target to assist nature in curving the bullet downward to find its loathsome target.
Now only ancient biology stood in the way. She slowed her heart rate, breathed in and out, waiting between heartbeats. The roaring in her ears ceased as her brain calmed. The vibration of her physical body lessened.
Ashley—this is for you.
Her forefinger squeezed gently on the trigger. She breathed out. One heartbeat. Another heartbeat. A third heartbeat. She fired.
The gun recoiled, but not before she was slammed to the ground, the bullet flying off target and going harmlessly up into the empty sky, spinning outward at nineteen hundred miles an hour, its hand-polished copper jacket flying straight and true to the exact wrong spot. The heavy sound of the shot cracked and echoed off the buildings almost a full second later. She accepted the instant repercussion in her shoulder from the stock of the rifle as a heavy body landed right on top of her, driving all the air from her lungs. The odor of sulfur instantly filled her airways as she gasped for breath, the gun hot from the recoil burning her hands.
“You can’t go wrong with any book by January Bain. Her characters leap off the page, fully formed, and lodge in your imagination well after you finish reading.”
Liz Crowe, Best selling & award-winning author
From Sierra Brave, Popular Amazon Romance Author: January Bain is an amazing writer who knows how to weave a tale of mystery, suspense and romance into a compelling read. The characters in Racing the Tide are walk-off-the-page real, and the sexual tension is raw and powerful.
Author’s Note: I hope you give this book a try! It was a wild journey to write Silk’s and Jake’s story, and it was written with you in mind. Thank you so much for reading. 😊
January Bain has wished on every falling star, every blown-out birthday candle, and every coin thrown in a fountain to be a storyteller. To share the tales of high adventure, mysteries, and full blown thrillers she has dreamed of all her life. The story you now have in your hands is the compilation of a lot of things manifesting itself for this special series. Hundreds of hours spent researching the unusual and the mundane have come together to create books that features strong women who live life to the fullest, wild adventures full of twists and unforeseen turns, and hot complicated men who aren’t afraid to take risks. She can only hope her stories will capture your imagination.
Where to find January
If you are looking for January Bain, you can find her hard at work every morning without fail in her office with two furry babies trying to prove who does a better job of guarding the doorway. And, of course, she’s married to the most romantic man! Who once famously remarked to her inquiry about buying fresh flowers for their home every week, “Give me one good reason why not?” Leaving her speechless and knocking her head against the proverbial wall for being so darn foolish. She loves flowers.
If you wish to connect in the virtual world she is easily found on Facebook, twitter and writes a weekly blog about her journey on Blogger. Oh, and she loves to talk books…
|Blog Address – http://januarybainjourney.blogspot.ca/
Twitter Name – https://twitter.com/JanuaryBain
Facebook Page – https://www.facebook.com/january.bain
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|Email address for fans –