We’re one week out from the launch of Secret Histories, the penultimate chapter in DSA Season Two! I hope you’re ready for this one. There are some huge moments in this book that will shape everything that follows. Enjoy a sneak peek look at the novel below!
Secret Histories Sneak Peek
Chapter One
Never surrender. Robert Kanigher’s father taught him that at a young age. The mantra had served the boy well over the years, at the playground or in sports. He had carried it with him through multiple tours overseas, using his wits to keep those close to him safe from harm.
Surrender now seemed inevitable, however. The thought stabbed through him worse than a knife to the heart. Sweat dotted Kanigher’s brow. His hands were slick to the touch, and no amount of rubbing along his pants stopped the flow. His breath caught in his throat, tense along his shoulders and back.
“This is stupid,” he muttered. The elevator whirred upward. Lights beamed from the sides of the underground car as the elevator rose to the surface from the Bunker. The words needed to be said. More were necessary, but they fell flat when he ran them through his mind.
The figure before him didn’t bother to turn around. She continued to stare straight ahead; blonde hair hid her reaction. With a bowed head, she waited for the ding of the elevator car and the opening of the doors. Her fate waited outside, and there wasn’t a damn thing Kanigher could do to help her.
“This was your idea,” Susan Metcalf said.
Kanigher tried to laugh, but sorrow drowned the jest. “Why do you think I said it?”
The car stopped with a jolt. On instinct, Kanigher reached for the closest wall, then stopped. The woman in front of him made no motion at all.
Doors opened. Daylight shifted inside, blanketing the car with the early afternoon sun. Warm air greeted them, leaving all thought of the winter buried in the past. It would have made for a terrific day. Kanigher felt the calm wind along his cheeks and wondered if things would ever feel so good again. The day should have been theirs to seize, to embrace a quiet moment and savor every second.
But that was not to be, nor would such a serene day have been possible. Too much had occurred of late between the team. There had been too many secrets, all on Metcalf’s side, and all culminated in the truth about her relationship with a man known to them as the Witness.
Because of Metcalf, and her innate ability to hide the truth from those around her, everything the DSA had worked for over the years had shattered. Kanigher wanted nothing more than to believe they could work through her secrets to find a road back to the way things had been. It would take time, however, and time had run out for them.
“It’s too open out there,” Kanigher said. His hand shot out for the figure at the door. It fell away with his gaze, unable to bear looking at her. “We’ll be sitting ducks.”
“Not you,” Metcalf said. “Me.”
She made no move. Her shadow fell upon him as the sunlight washed over her. She didn’t turn to look at him with those cold-as-steel-blue eyes that somehow always burrowed straight to his soul. He just wanted to see them one last time.
“Susan, I’m sorry about—”
“Let’s get this over with, Bobby,” Metcalf interrupted. The words had already been spoken, the arguments nothing but circular motions of redundancy. Everything had passed between them over the years. Nothing remained to change what was coming.
The woman left the elevator behind. Daylight enveloped her slender frame. Kanigher crept toward the door. He made no motion to leave, the instructions clear before their arrival. This was for her, and her alone.
“Good luck,” he called after her, knowing the futility of his words.
Neither had ever truly believed in luck. For her, skill and tactics were all that mattered. For Kanigher, it was his father’s dictum repeating in his brain.
Never surrender.
He knew better now. That had been the ideal of a child, not the compromising nature of an adult. And while Kanigher hated believing his father to be nothing more than a fool, the proof stood before him in the field that ran between the Bunker and the farmhouse outside.
Metcalf made it less than ten steps into the open before a shot cracked the silence of the peaceful afternoon. The gunshot slammed into the woman’s chest. Her body swayed from the impact, and for a moment Kanigher believed her to be okay—that somehow the bullet missed and her reaction had been nothing but instinctual.
Then she fell. No noise left her; no cry of pain or shriek of terror slipped from her lips. Susan Metcalf merely fell to the soft, green earth and didn’t move again.
How about that for a holy crap moment?!
The book only gets crazier from here. Order your signed paperback now for Secret Histories.
Ebook readers can enjoy the book on September 18th. Pre-order yours now for only $0.99.
