Join the Release Celebration for the Elite Ghosts Boxset!
Join Authors Jennifer Kacey, Anna Alexander, Sabrina York, Rebecca Royce,
Saranna DeWylde and Heather Long for an evening of Fun and Great Giveaways!
HOST Schedule: All Times CDT-Central
2:00 PM- Heather Long
2:30 PM- Saranna DeWylde
3:00 PM- Anna Alexander
3:30 PM- Sabrina York
4:00 PM- Rebecca Royce
4:30 PM- Jennifer Kacey
Wednesday 11/11 2:00 - 5:00 PM CDT (Central)
THE COLLECTION:
Six novels from some New York Times, USA Today and award
winning bestselling authors! Six individual novels that create one giant book!
One story leading into the next into the next! This is a continuation in the
hunt for Red Wolf including all the characters you love from Elite Metal!
Target: Tungsten – Heather Long
Zinc’s Heart – Rebecca Royce
Lithium’s Rescue – Sabrina York
Thallium’s Submission – Anna Alexander
Nickel’s Wounds – Saranna DeWylde
Titanium’s Sacrifice – Jennifer Kacey
Elite Ghosts
For more than two years they’ve been ghosts. Nothing but names on empty
tombstones. Men and women forced to fade into the background after being pulled
from the rubble. Dead Marines saved from a fate worse than death, but ordered
to stand down while their lives disappeared all around them.
Some knew it could happen if a mission exploded. Double crossed by more than
just Red Wolf. But now is their time to be reborn from the flames of a Phoenix.
No longer imprisoned in the shadows. A half-life between them and their future.
To make things right coming back to life is their only option.
Loyalty is their salvation but damage is always more than skin deep.
A new hope. A new family. Elite Ghosts.
Read More about Sabrina's Scalding Contribution: Lithium's
Rescue
Lithium’s Rescue by Sabrina York
He will save her…unless she saves him first.
Michelle Parsons is on the run. She has evidence of a plot
that could destroy the country, but in order to stop her boss and his extremist
cohorts from taking over the US Senate, she needs to get the information into
the right hands. Trouble is, her contact, the only man she trusts, has been
neutralized. She’s all alone. No one can help her.
No one, but the Elite Ghosts.
It’s a shame then, that when Benedict Butler—Codename:
Lithium—shows up to bring her in from the cold, she doesn’t know if she can
trust him or not. And when their relationship evolves into something more…he’s
not sure he can trust himself either.
She does something to him, changes him. Heals him, somehow.
And in the end, it’s difficult to say who rescued whom.
Read an Excerpt of Lithium’s Rescue!
Michelle stared at
her phone as the realization that Ralley was watching her every move—had been
watching her every move—whipped through her in a howl of horror. She should
have known. She should have guessed.
She was well aware
of ASTCORP’s capabilities—of the sensitive information they collected and
processed…and how they got it. She should have assumed Ralley would keep the
same leash on his employees.
The thought of
being watched, listened to, spied on infuriated her.
“Fuck you, Ralley,”
she snapped, though he had long ago ended the call. Still, she was certain he
heard. He had ears everywhere.
The hell she would
wait here for someone to come and collect her.
If Ralley knew
everything—and she had to assume he did—she’d never walk away from such an
encounter.
She went inside and
yanked the curtains closed, even though she knew, if Ralley had eyes on her,
he’d be using a thermal scan as well. Shutting him out made her feel better.
Then she quickly collected her purse, cash stash and a change of underwear—as
well as a knife from the kitchen—and headed for the door.
She had no idea
where she was going, other than away, but that would make it harder for Ralley
to find her. She didn’t have family or friends outside work. No predictable
patterns. She’d slip away in the night to the bus station or the train station
and hop on the first transport out of town. Wherever it was going, she would—
She froze as the
horrifying sound of a lock snicking shot through the silent room.
Her eyes widened.
She lifted the knife.
Hell! Why hadn’t
she turned off the lights?
The door eased open
with an eerie creak. No one stood in the opening, but Michelle knew better.
Someone was there. The barrel of a Sig appeared, capped with a long silencer.
Michelle sucked in a breath and ducked back against the wall. When a hand
emerged, she slashed it with the knife and, when it clattered to the ground,
she executed a roundhouse kick into the doorway in the spot she assumed a face
might be.
She got it right.
Her assailant flew back with a bellow, slamming into the wall in the hallway.
She bolted forward through the door, but he rallied quickly and caught her
around the waist. With a howl, she kneed him in the crotch and gave him a
healthy punch to the kidneys. She knew all the spots where a man was weak.
She’d been trained for hand-to-hand combat since birth.
But he was trained
too, and he was bigger. Stronger. A stocky, burly sort with a squashed in face
and piggy eyes. And speaking of piggy eyes, when he slammed into her, launching
them both back into her apartment onto the floor, she gouged at his.
His response was a
clout to her cheek.
It stunned her, but
only for a moment.
A moment too long.
He captured both
her wrists in one hand and pulled a long KA-BAR from its sheath.
The bastard smiled
then, revealing a hatred for dentistry. “He wanted you alive, bitch,” he
growled in a thickly accented voice. Russian, if she wasn’t mistaken. Funny
what little details filtered in when one was about to die. “It wouldn’t be hard
to convince him this couldn’t be helped.”
It was disturbing,
the way his eyes glinted as he set the blade to her neck, as though slicing it
would bring him a great deal of pleasure.
A flicker of
movement behind him caught her attention and her gaze shot to the doorway. She
didn’t even bother to wince when his compatriot appeared. It was hardly a
surprise. These sorts rarely worked alone.
She didn’t know why
her focus locked onto the newcomer’s face, why something rose within her, a
wail of denial, a wash of regret. Because he was, this second villain, drop
dead gorgeous.
In that second,
that fleeting moment of time before she died, a great wave of sadness swamped
her. In another world, another universe, another dimension, if such things
existed, she would want a man like him. He was tall. Broad. Beautiful.
Their gazes clashed
and his eyes narrowed. A muscle bunched in his cheek. Something that might have
been cold fury rippled over his features.
And then he moved.
To her shock, he grabbed
her assailant around the neck with a muscled arm and levered him to his feet. The
knife clattered to the floor. The first man howled and flailed, kicking and
scratching at the second in a frenzy to be free. He whipped down, throwing the
second man over his shoulders and onto the ground—but the beautiful warrior
bounded to his feet and faced his foe with a snarl.
They circled each
other, there in the foyer of her apartment, each taking the others’ measure.
Michelle would have run, but they were blocking the door, damn it all anyway.
She grabbed the
knife though, as it was in range, and scuttled back. She needed to be ready to
face the victor when this was over. She had no idea why they were fighting over
her, no idea who the second man was, but it hardly mattered. She wasn’t leaving
with either of them. She didn’t trust anyone.
It was probably
completely idiotic that deep down, in the well of her soul, she hoped the
handsome man won. Being handsome didn’t make him a good man. In fact, it often
meant the opposite.
The two men came
together in a bone-crunching rush. The fight was furious. Fists and grunts and
pummeling. The dull thuds of flesh on flesh. The crack of bones. The wet retort
of splattering flesh.
It quickly became
clear, the pig-eyed man didn’t stand a chance.
The warrior, the
beast, demolished him with clout after ruthless, savage clout. With one
crushing punch, he sent the smaller man teetering back onto the carpet. He
didn’t move.
Michelle paid him
little mind. She kept her eyes on the victor, the large and looming man with a
sinfully beautiful face. Though she held the knife before her, it trembled.
He stared down at
the broken man and his lips quirked in what might have been a smile. Or not.
He
cracked his knuckles and turned his attention to her. His eyes were cold,
emotionless. His expression harsh.
“Strip,” he said.
Just that one word.
Strip.
Elite Ghosts Buy Links
AMAZON - http://amzn.to/1L4YkMY
B&N – On release day
ARE - https://goo.gl/KlHzRr
KOBO – http://goo.gl/9WguaE
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/584025
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About
Sabrina York
