Monday, February 8, 2016

Book Spotlight: Nightwatch


Nothing is as it seems... 

Six months after her father's murder, Emiliana Woodrow is still trying to put her life back together. The death of the famous abstract artist has left an irreparable hole in her life. In one instant, a tiny blue gem turns her world upside down and nothing will ever be the same again. Thrown into a world or spies, romance, double cross and intrigue, will she be able to navigate her new reality and finish her father's mission before time runs out?

If I had to describe the idea of the book, it would be more like this:

Emiliana is still reeling over the death of her father. Injured on that same night that cost her father her life, she visits her doctor hoping for some kind of relief from the constant pain. As she waits on blood work and tests, a stranger drops from the air vent and gives her a mysterious blue gem. This one moment in time catapults her life into the world of Sentry 6, a covert black ops team independent of any country or government. She learns that she has been lied to and she has ties to Sentry 6 that she never would have imagined. Twists and turns abound as she is constantly left in a state of suspicion and intrigue. Her only ally is an Agent called Falcon and the hope of finding an asset named Luther. But can she really trust Falcon? Can you really trust someone you hardly know?  After all, in the world of Sentry 6, nothing is as it seems. 




Excerpt:
The sounds in the hall only continued to escalate. Pounding feet were followed by shouts of, “Search every room!” and “He’s gotta be here somewhere.”
She started for the door when she heard a rattle and thump directly above her.
A pair of black shoes appeared, and then legs. Then, before Emma knew it, a six-foot man fell none too gracefully from the vent.
He pulled himself from the ground, muttering, “I swear those things get smaller every time.” His gaze fell on Emma, poised with her hand on the doorknob. “I wouldn’t go out there. I am afraid I’ve upset them, and they have guns.”
            “Guns?! Who are you? Why did you—what were you doing in the air duct?” She peered more closely at her intruder. “You’re bleeding!”
            He shrugged at the bloody circle that dampened his upper arm. “Like I said, they have guns.” The stranger fished through the cabinet, pulling out first-aid supplies and stuffing them into his pockets.
            “Jared will be back in a second. He can help you,” she said. Footfalls ceased just outside the door; someone was about to come in.
            The young man dashed from the drawers, popped something shiny in his mouth, and pulled Emma by the belt loops against him. He pulled her hair loose and deftly fit his mouth over hers just as the door opened. Emma felt the young man’s hand on her back and his fingers pushing up through her hair. She felt something hard, smooth and almost glassy enter her mouth. Emma was so shocked she didn’t know what to do. The young man continued to kiss her—and kiss her well, for that matter.
            A bewildered security guard poked his head in for a moment before he bashfully backed out, muttering to himself. Just as the door clicked shut, the stranger pulled back from Emma.            “That worked?” He looked astonished with himself. “Never thought that would work.” He grabbed a notepad out of the drawer and scribbled down a note. Then he took one of Emma’s hands in his own, and said, “I will be caught, no doubt about it, but now at least you have that when I am.”
            Emma began to protest, but he held up one finger to stop her.
            “Careful, don’t swallow it,” he chided. He pressed the note he had written into her palm, his brilliant olive-green eyes shone with excitement. “Meet me here in one hour. If I’m not there, don’t stop, don’t look around; just keep walking. Toss that thing in the bay and forget you ever saw me today.”
            He stared deep into her eyes, as if debating her trustworthiness. He must have realized this wasn’t about choices. It was about survival.
            There was something truly desperate about him as he opened the door just a crack to check the hall. He turned back to Emma, who was still trying to get a grip on reality and to not swallow whatever was in her mouth.
            “Do you understand?” he asked intensely. “This is a matter of national security; life or death.” He seemed to peer right through her as he said, “Can I trust you?”
            Emma barely heard much more than “national security” and “life and death.” It could not be real. It had to be some sort of prank.
            She nodded quickly in the affirmative. Her fist clasped the note firmly, her hands sweaty. The sharp edges bit into the skin of her palm as she watched him look into the hallway one more time. 

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