Who do you turn to when the law is the problem?
Marisol hoped divorce was the key to a new life—one away from her crazy ex-
husband. Instead she’s working two jobs and struggling to make ends meet as
her problems escalate. Terrified and desperate for help—any help—she turns to
a stranger, a man her brother swore could help with just about any problem. The
answer to her problems is tall, dark, deadly and everything she’d once thought
she wanted in a man. But to him she’s a job. Nothing more.
No one should fight an impossible war alone.
When Ethan founded Counterstrike he expected a challenge but nothing could
have prepared him for Marisol. She’s smart, courageous, compassionate,
headstrong, and everything he’s ever wanted. But her troubles come with a price
tag he didn’t expect when he must face his own personal demons to keep her
Amazon - https://amzn.to/2Lc3Vp5
“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she whispered, unsure exactly how that had happened. She’d thought she’d never sleep again, yet she’d literally gone so comatose she’d fallen asleep in a stranger’s truck.
He’d freaking carried her into his house, or she assumed as much since she had no clue how she would’ve gotten inside otherwise.
Adrenaline surged within her as her fight or flight response kicked in again. The damn thing activated instantaneously. Slow reactions resulted in pain, and she’d never been a big fan of that.
Chester wouldn’t be too happy that she’d filed a police report. He’d send someone else to hurt her. That someone would hurt anyone between her and him. The thought spiraled her mind onto a new path.
Ethan had been nice, he’d gotten her away when she needed to go anywhere but where she was at. But she couldn’t let him or anyone else get hurt by Chester and the assholes who did his bidding.
“I should go.” She yanked on the bottom of her scrubs even though everything was hanging where it should. The sooner she got away from Ethan, the better for him. “Thanks for your help.”
He angled away from the entry, as if offering her room to pass. Arms crossed, his full lips thinned into a grim line. “You’re not leaving, Marisol.”
“Mari,” she corrected. “Friends call me Mari, and anyone who stands up against my ex’s asshole friends gets to be mine, whether they want to or not.”
“Well, Mari, I was raised to believe friends didn’t abandon friends having troubles. And you, sweetheart, have a big pile of those slithering all around you like an angry nest of vipers.”
Born in small-town Texas, Cara Carnes was a princess, a pirate, fashion model,
actress, rock star and Jon Bon Jovi’s wife all before the age of 13.
In reality, her fascination for enthralling worlds took seed somewhere amidst a
somewhat dull day job and a wonderful life filled with family and friends. When
she’s not cemented to her chair, Cara loves travelling, photography and reading.
Author website and social media links
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