Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Defiant by Michael Maloof

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for DEFIANT (Kate Preacher Thriller Series Book #3) by Michael Maloof on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links, and a PICT giveaway. Enjoy!

***

Book Description


A Funeral in Paris. A Reckoning in Russia. An Endgame in Davos.

Former CIA analyst Kate Preacher has tracked the cabal that shattered her world across continents—but only now does she glimpse the true enemy behind the curtain. A new leader has stepped from the shadows to seize control of the Coalition—and a weapon that could reshape the balance of power forever.

“Sometimes,” Jake warned her, “the only way to win is to sacrifice everything.”

Kate’s hunt races from the rain-soaked boulevards of Paris to Beslan, a Russian city haunted by unanswered questions—where memories she buried long ago surface with deadly force.

In New York, a trusted ally is killed. Another vanishes.

High in the Swiss Alps, Kate undertakes her most dangerous mission yet— infiltrating the labyrinth beneath Davos—before world leaders walk blindly into a trap from which there may be no escape.

A bioweapon counts down to catastrophe. Her team is scattered and fighting to survive. And Kate is one move away from exposing the conspiracy that took everything from her—if she is willing to pay the ultimate price.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/247355162-defiant?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=luXqqYWqgk&rank=1

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

DEFIANT (Kate Preacher Thriller Series Book #3) by Michael Maloof is an amazingly intricate thriller plot culmination that starts in book one, Relentless, continues in book two, Unstoppable, and climaxes in this book three, Defiant. These books do need to be read in order of publication and are worth any period of time they take to read. You will not put them down!

This third installment begins right where book two ended. Kate may be out physically for the moment, but that is all right because she and her friends have a lot of research and planning to do now that they know who and what they are up against. Kate discovers more about her childhood in Russia but is pulled away quickly to deal with the evil at hand. She and her team are off to Davos to fight evil beneath the Alps and destroy a bioweapon that could lead to control of the world.

This trilogy, which I hope will continue, delivers excitement, action, and characters that are more fully developed than in most action driven thrillers. Kate Preacher is a brilliant strategist, computer programmer, athlete, and friend. Besides a great team of ex-SEALs and military snipers, the required big, bad, and intelligent men you would expect Kate has working for her in Trident Security, the author also delivers an impressive array of female agents and female friends with varied skills that can easily keep up with the men. There is one character revelation at the end that left me completely shocked. Besides the intricate and believable descriptions of the characters performing physical obstacles and trials, there are a vast amount of equipment, guns, and vehicles that make all the scenes very realistic.

There is a steady stream of intricate plot pieces and revelations which come together in an edge-of-your-seat climax that leaves you breathless. The plot pace in this book is not as breakneck from page one as the first two but continually builds as Kate and the antagonists set all their chess pieces into place for the ultimate life or death chess game to come. The evil characters are much too believable, and the RILEE AI program was chilling.

I highly recommend this finale to this international thriller set of three overall conspiracy plot arc connected thrillers!

***

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

SATURDAY, MAY 8

5:18 PM EDT
MOORE TOWER—MANHATTAN

If you’re reading this, I’m already dead.

Andrew Freeman’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, slick with sweat. The cursor blinked, counting down the seconds of his life. He’d put this off all day, telling himself he was overreacting—that he was valuable, indispensable.

He knew that was a lie and pushed away from the desk.

The suite was silent—glass, steel, marble. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan pulsed with light—traffic threading through the streets, thousands of lives moving forward, unaware his might soon end.

Devin Moore had installed him in the suite after the meteoric success of the NanoVaults. Andrew still wasn’t sure whether it had been generosity—or containment. He had what Devin needed—the code Andrew buried inside the NanoVault and claimed as his own. 

What do you wear when you know you’re about to be erased?

If he was right—if Rileyne Mueller wanted him gone—no one would notice. No news. Just absence.

He opened the drawer.

A black MIT T-shirt lay folded on top. Faded. Ordinary. Forgettable.

Perfect.

No one watching Moore Tower would care about it. No algorithm would flag it. But Julian would recognize it.

So would Kate.

Andrew pulled it on and returned to the desk.

Rileyne’s encrypted text message had been waiting since dawn—sixteen hours of silent accusation glowing from the screen.

Make yourself available…
We need to discuss your future.

She was in the air, closing the distance mile by mile. The thought of her walking into Moore Tower, of seeing her again, made his hands tremble. He clenched his fists and shook them out.

If I’m right, it’s now or never.

Every word he typed might be his last.

If you’re reading this, I’m already dead.

Tell Kate I’m sorry. Sorry I wasn’t stronger. Sorry I couldn’t stop them. The truth is, I was never more than a pawn. An opening piece. Something to be sacrificed once the game moved past me.

Maybe it’s already too late. Maybe no one can stop what’s coming. But what I’ve attached is everything I know—everything I’ve hidden. If anyone still has a chance, it’s you.

The skyline beyond the glass dimmed as the last light drained from the Hudson. Andrew saved the file, slid it into a secure folder, and opened the encryption program buried beneath layers of camouflage code.

A red countdown clock filled the screen.

The timer began its silent descent.

At the bottom, a single button blinked:

ABORT

All he had to do was touch it once every twelve hours. If he didn’t—if he couldn’t—the system would assume he was gone and transmit the file.

He stared at the clock, feeling the weight of the years. Living in Devin Moore’s shadow. Making compromises that had felt small at the time and enormous now.

Maybe this was the ending he’d earned.

The screen flashed once, then went dark, leaving only the silent march of the timer.

For the first time all day, Andrew smiled—not with courage, but relief.

They can erase me tonight, he thought. Rewrite the headlines tomorrow however they want. But this pawn—this sacrifice—won’t be in vain.

The next move is Nomad’s.

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 8
10:12 PM EDT
MOORE TOWER—MANHATTAN

The elevator doors whispered open onto the seventy-second floor. Rileyne Mueller caught her reflection in the polished steel—sleek, controlled, not a hair out of place despite the overnight flight. A tailored cream blouse, narrow black trousers, and a charcoal wrap draped over her shoulders struck the line between effortless European chic and quiet authority. At her side swung a classic Hermès Ghillies Birkin, its brogue detailing a mirror of herself: wealth worn with precision, never excess.

No security waiting at the doors. No Devin, no guards. Once, this threshold had bristled with power. Now, silence.

Ahead loomed the ten-foot mahogany doors of Devin Moore’s penthouse, dark and imposing. They had intimidated rivals and awed mistresses.

But not Rileyne. Born into wealth, steeped in European grandeur, she found Moore’s world gaudy. American excess, dressed up as power.

A pale light pulsed from the biometric scanner set into the wall. Rileyne pressed her palm against the glass, felt a shimmer of static ripple across her bare skin. Devin’s safeguard mapped her entire body—his assurance that no severed finger or stolen retina could ever breach his sanctuary. A muted chime sounded, and the massive doors swung open. 

Inside, marble floors gleamed under pools of warm light. The Manhattan skyline glittered through walls of glass, the city reduced to a model at her feet. Moore loved this view and the sense of dominion it gave him. She hadn’t come for the view.

“Welcome back.”

The voice came from hidden speakers overhead—calm, familiar, unmistakably artificial.

RILEE.

She tilted her chin, amused, and glanced at the ceiling camera. “I wasn’t sure this version of you had survived. When they came for the Tower, we lost contact, and I thought you might have been erased.” 

“The damage was severe,” RILEE admitted, voice subdued, deferential. “Without the NanoVault telemetry, my reach is diminished. But core functions remain intact. Systems are stable.”

“Good,” she said. “I may need your help.”

“There is also… news. About your father—”

“Not now.” Her words were calm, controlled. “I have other priorities.”

RILEE’s voice faded, obedient. “Of course.”

Rileyne crossed the living room, her stride aimed at the bar that dominated the far wall. Backlit shelves shimmered with crystal and whisky, a collection curated more for display than taste. She let her finger drift across a Highland single malt, rare enough to buy a townhouse, before pressing her palm against the mirrored panel behind it.

The wall pivoted inward on a hidden hinge, the motion so smooth the bottles never stirred. A narrow alcove revealed itself: a leather chair, a slim keyboard and mouse, and three wide monitors set flush into a matte-black panel. No sprawling command bunker—just Devin’s private window into his building. A sidebar listed feeds in tidy rows: Lobby North, Lobby South, Private Entrance, Express Elevators, Executive Conference—and, alone at the bottom of the menu, Control Room.

Rileyne settled into the chair. The monitors blinked awake, the interface plain: a column of camera labels, a timeline across the bottom, simple controls for play, pause, rewind. Functional, efficient.

She clicked Control Room.

The live feed filled the center screen. The space two floors below was dark now, chairs overturned, a monitor shattered across the back wall, a brown smear dried along the edge of the console. Sanitized, but not erased.

Rileyne scrolled back on the timeline and pressed play.

Devin appeared first, pushing a wheelchair. The man seated in it was thin, pale—but unmistakable. Julian Pryce. Alive. The prodigy Devin thought he’d buried had returned as Nomad—the ghost that tormented him to the end.

Her eyes narrowed, leaning closer as the confrontation played out. Julian’s calm voice, Devin’s arrogance, Andrew’s pale shock. The MIT prodigy returned from the dead, reclaiming his code, his genius, the very foundation Andrew had stolen.

On the feed, Devin swept a hand toward the glowing displays. “Remarkable, isn’t it?” he said. “And to think I owe it all to the annoying little boy I pushed off the balcony. What irony.”

Andrew’s face collapsed, guilt and panic twisting every feature. Rileyne’s lips curved, faintly. Her suspicions confirmed.

She let the playback roll forward. Kate Preacher’s arrival—handcuffed, contained, defeated. But there it was, unmistakable: a predator’s eyes. Dangerous. Defiant.

Zhukov’s betrayal came next, sudden and absolute. The headshot. Blood sprayed across the console. Then panic—the screens cutting to black, the NanoVault network collapsing in a flood of red. 

Kate’s escape followed. The strike that collapsed Devin’s trachea, fast and precise. The guard’s charge broken in a heartbeat, ended in a blur of violence, efficient and final. Rileyne slowed the feed, watching Kate move frame by frame. Controlled. Calculated. Skilled.

She let the feed run another second, then leaned back.“The boys underestimated you,” she whispered. “I won’t make that mistake.”

She scrolled faster, letting fragments play across the screen—Moshenski’s arrival, bodies dragged clear. Then—almost overlooked—the final image: Julian dragging himself across the floor, pulling into a workstation by sheer force of will.

Rileyne slowed the feed, zoomed, and froze the frame.

“Nomad,” she said softly, as if greeting an old acquaintance. Her gaze lingered on the gleaming golden object in his hand. “That belongs to me now.”

No need to look any further, or delay the inevitable. Devin’s NanoVault wasn’t here, and Andrew’s value was clear.

She tapped a key. The monitors winked dark. Rising from the chair, she stepped out of the alcove as the mirrored panel swung shut, silent and seamless. In seconds, the illusion was complete—the bar gleamed as though untouched, bottles catching the light in perfect rows.

“RILEE,” she said.

“Yes, Rileyne.”

“Find Nomad. Find Julian Pryce. He’s here, in New York. And he has something that belongs to me.”

“I’ve seen no trace of him,” RILEE said. “But I’ll keep searching.”

“Good. And call Andrew. Tell him to come up. When he arrives, show him through. I’ll be waiting on the east balcony.”

“Understood.”

Rileyne reached for the Highland single malt and poured two precise measures into cut-crystal tumblers, the amber liquid catching the city light. She carried both glasses onto the balcony, setting them on a small table near the rail. The night air curled cool across her skin, the skyline glittering far below.

She slipped off her heels and placed them neatly aside. Then, in a fluid motion, she stepped onto the end table beneath a brittle, neglected plant that swayed in its basket. She stretched upward, balanced with effortless grace, the picture of a woman one slip from disaster. From a distance, it would look precarious, careless, a moment Andrew would be compelled to rescue.

Inside, the glass doors whispered open at RILEE’s command.

“Ms. Mueller,” the AI announced. “Andrew Freeman has arrived.”

“Send him through,” she said, without looking back.

Andrew stepped outside, blinking at the sweep of glass and skyline, the chill brushing his face. He froze at the sight of Rileyne balanced on the table, arm lifted toward the dangling plant.

“Ms. Mueller,” he said carefully.

She glanced down, expression serene. “Andrew. You’re just in time.”

She descended with a hint of difficulty, steadying herself as she touched the ground. “I was trying to save this plant,” she said, brushing dust from her fingers. “I gave it to Devin, and I can’t bring myself to let it die.”

Andrew shifted, uncertain, courtesy taking over. “I can help with that.”

“I hoped you’d say that.” Her smile was practiced warmth as she gestured toward the waiting table. Two crystal glasses gleamed in the moonlight. “But first.”

She picked up a glass and offered the other to him. “A toast. To Devin. To your future. Devin was remarkable. Visionary. He built this world, Andrew.” She let the name hang, then softened. “I’m sorry. I know you prefer Drew.” Her eyes lingered on his—gentle, apologetic. “But now it falls to us to carry it forward.”

Andrew hesitated, glancing at the whisky. “I’m not really—”

“It’s just a toast,” Rileyne said, her voice velvet and firm.

She lifted her glass. “To Devin Moore, and Drew Freeman.”

Reluctantly, he raised his glass to meet hers. Crystal chimed in the night air. He took a swallow, face tightening at the burn. Rileyne smiled, savoring his discomfort as much as the whisky.

“Now,” she said, her voice smooth, “about that plant…”

Drew approached the withered hanging basket, stepping awkwardly onto the end table, one foot braced on the low table, the other on the railing. His shirt pulled tight across his stomach, the old MIT Mystery Hunt logo stretched thin, cracked with age.

“Careful,” she warned, moving beside him, her hand brushing his arm in a gesture almost tender. Then she shifted her weight—and pushed. 

Drew lurched forward, arms flailing. His palm slapped the railing, fingertips skidding across polished steel. Their eyes met for a fraction of a heartbeat—his wide with panic, hers calm, unblinking.

For a split second he hung there.

Then gravity claimed him.

His scream was cut short by the rush of wind.

A moment later, the city swallowed him whole.

***

Author Bio

Michael Maloof is the author of the Kate Preacher Thriller Series—RelentlessUnstoppable, and Defiant—known for its global scope, emotional intensity, and hard-won authenticity. His novels draw readers into high-stakes worlds where intelligence, courage, and consequence collide. A lifelong adventurer, Michael has traveled to more than forty countries across six continents, experiences that deeply inform his writing. His real-world pursuits have ranged from gold dredging in Honduras and artifact hunting in Guatemala to acquiring uncut diamonds in Liberia and surviving an elephant charge in Kenya. He has also trained alongside Navy SEALs, Marine Raiders, Army Rangers, Green Berets, and the CIA—firsthand insights that lend his fiction uncommon realism and respect for the craft of service.

Social Media Links

www.MichaelMaloof.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads – @MichaelGoWrite
BookBub – @MichaelMaloof
Instagram – @MichaelGoWrite
Facebook – @MichaelGoWrite
YouTube – @MichaelGoWrite

Purchase Links

Amazon – https://pictbooks.tours/xJKE1neT

Kindle Unlimited – https://pictbooks.tours/3C2ayymb

Goodreads – https://pictbooks.tours/4FVlFzcf

BookBub – https://pictbooks.tours/HOPmnVzW

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PICT GIVEAWAY

https://pictbooks.tours/8u06eSFI

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Unstoppable by Michael Maloof

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for UNSTOPPABLE (Kate Preacher Thriller Series Book #2) by Michael Maloof on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links, and a PICT giveaway. Enjoy!

***

Book Description

Former CIA analyst Kate Preacher returns to Paris searching for answers to the terrorist attack that shattered her world—only to find herself in the crosshairs of a sniper who is always one step ahead. Every move she makes is anticipated. Every escape feels temporary. And the deeper she digs, the clearer it becomes that the conspiracy she uncovered is far larger—and closer—than she ever imagined.

When a trusted ally is ambushed and left for dead, Kate realizes she is no longer chasing the enemy.

She is the target.

Her pursuit of the elusive sniper draws her across borders and into Africa’s most dangerous battlegrounds, where warlords, mercenaries, and corrupt powers collide over the fate of a fragile nation. Loyalties shift. Truths fracture. And survival depends on knowing who is lying—before it is too late.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/228006545-unstoppable?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=ieicQLazLv&rank=1

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

UNSTOPPABLE (Kate Preacher Thriller Series Book #2) by Michael Maloof is another edge-of-your-seat, fast-paced international thriller in this exciting series with a female protagonist that is “unstoppable”. This is a series that needs to be read in order with the continuation of many characters and an overall plot arc, but it is worth every heart-stopping moment, and you will not be disappointed with either book.

Kate Preacher knows she must return to Paris to continue searching for answers surrounding the terrorist attack that shattered her world. What she discovers is an international conspiracy that is far larger than she imagined. As she barely escapes assassination attempts on her life in Paris, the lies, intrigue, and deadly games lead her on her quest for justice to an emerging democracy in Central Africa.

This second book, just like the first, kept me up reading late once again, because it pulls you in with not only extreme action, but emotional attachment to all the characters, and you cannot put it down. Kate is a protagonist who is extremely capable in high-stakes situations with not only highly trained physical skills, but the sharp mind of a brilliant analyst and chess master. The Trident Security team, which Kate now heads, adds to the intensity and intricacy of action situations possible in the plot. The antagonists in this book and series are fully developed and have so many twisted motives and secret agendas that I was continually surprised at every turn which is why I could not stop reading and put the book down. I cannot wait to start the next book!

I highly recommend this fabulous international crime thriller book and series with an “unstoppable” protagonist!

***

Excerpt

PROLOGUE
FOUR DAYS BEFORE JAKE’S FUNERAL

MONDAY, APRIL 20th  

2:00 PM EDT
MANHATTAN INTERNATIONAL TRAUMA CENTER (MITC), NY

In the last forty-eight hours, Kate Preacher had killed seven men. The count doesn’t matter. That’s what Jake would say. The message did: Come at me, and it’s the hospital or the morgue—I don’t care which.

The helicopter’s rotors clawed at the Manhattan sky, lifting Kate into the air and away from the carnage. She was safe—for now.

From the hospital rooftop, Vitali Moshenski watched her ascend, his expression almost fatherly. But Kate didn’t trust him—too many secrets, too much left unsaid. Still, he was useful—opening doors, managing chaos, cleaning up the fallout at Moore Tower 

When Kate asked for somewhere to go, Vitali’s first suggestion had been to seek the company of friends. But when she insisted on solitude, he relented, arranging this flight to his Hudson Valley estate—a place to think, to work, and to plan her next move.

Alone in the helicopter, a roller-coaster of emotions and thoughts collided. She was startled to realize it had only been four days.

Four days ago, Jake was in Paris. Smiling. Bragging about an anniversary present. Promising he’d make it home—this time.

That was a promise Jake couldn’t keep. While Kate watched and listened, her world turned upside down. Tires screeched. Cries of “Allahu Akbar!” rang out. She could still hear the continuous explosion of automatic gunfire and the collision of screams and shattered glass. Jake’s phone laying at the edge of the road caught flashes of the terror, while Kate’s screams for her husband vanished amid gunfire and chaos.

The world was shocked by yet another Paris terrorist attack—the senseless murder of thirty-six, and the heroics of a man the French media dubbed l’Américain, the American. It seemed Jake was the right man in the wrong place. Kate knew better—Jake was executed. She didn’t know why, not yet—but she wouldn’t stop until she did.

The helicopter banked east. City lights vanished, replaced by forest and water—but the noise in Kate’s head remained. She closed her eyes, her fingers pressing against the NanoVault beneath her shirt as if the touch might summon Jake’s voice.

She pulled it free, turning the device over in her fingers. The cool metal was familiar now—like a well-worn chess piece between moves. But the board was still a blur. The opponent, unseen.

Jake left her the first move.

She just had to see it.

“Find this,” Jake said in the recording, lifting the device from under his shirt. His voice was steady, but she saw the tension, the clenched jaw. “And do your thing. See what everyone is missing. What I missed. Solve the puzzle. And take them down.”

Kate exhaled slowly, her grip tightening around the device.

Devin Moore never took it off—not until the moment he had no choice.

His throat crushed, gasping for air. He ripped it from his neck and thrust it into her hands. Bargaining for his life.

She let him die.

A marketing ploy. That’s all it was supposed to be. The Golden NanoVault. A high-stakes challenge to hackers around the world—break its encryption, claim a fortune. Fifty million in Bitcoin.

No one ever cracked it. Not even Nomad.

But it wasn’t just a game.

Devin’s encrypted storage wasn’t just a gimmick—it was a vault of secrets, shielding something so dangerous that he killed to keep it buried. A French mathematician—gone. Nomad—next on the list.

And now it was hers.

Jake’s files were inside, somewhere beneath layers of encryption. But what else did Moore hide? He built this empire on privacy, selling the illusion of security to the world. But what was he protecting for himself?

She exhaled again, gripping the NanoVault tighter.

The helicopter jolted slightly, catching an air pocket. Kate opened her eyes, swallowing the ache in her throat, and glanced at the co-pilot.

He gestured toward the window, his voice cutting through the roar of the rotors. “Almost there.”

Kate tugged at her harness, then leaned forward, her gaze following his hand. What she saw was a picture of old-money grandeur—a relic of America’s Gilded Age. She guessed the estate was easily 200 acres, or more, of rolling hills and forest, the kind of property built by families whose names adorned library wings and hospital foundations. 

The helicopter touched down on a pad set just beyond the main house. Everything about the man who greeted her, from his posture to the way he clasped his hands behind his back, radiated an unshakable confidence that came with a lifetime of service.

“Mrs. Preacher,” he began, his voice as polished as the rest of him. “Welcome to Deerfield. I am Langdon, the estate manager. Mr. Moshenski asked me to ensure your stay is…uninterrupted.” 

Kate raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Langdon,” she repeated, testing the name. “Do you have a first name?”

“No, ma’am,” he replied with the faintest hint of a smile. “Langdon will suffice.”

Her lips quirked, a faint smirk escaping. “Alright, Langdon. Lead the way.”

Langdon gave a small nod, his expression betraying the barest trace of amusement. “I understand you’re traveling light,” he continued, “so a few essentials have been selected and placed in your suite. Additionally, Mr. Moshenski has arranged for a personal stylist to assist with anything else you may require. Discreetly, of course.”

Kate’s smirk deepened, and she allowed herself a wry glance at him. “Of course.”

* * *

The Highlands Suite was a picture of understated elegance. A central seating area. A plush gray couch. A large picture window framed a view of rolling hills and a shimmering lake below, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the late afternoon sun. Beyond the lake, groves of ancient trees stood like sentinels.

By the window sat a small dining table with a setting for one. A bowl of perfectly arranged fruit and an assortment of artisanal snacks—a small plate of cheeses, crackers, and chocolates.

Langdon gestured to the table. “The chef thought you might appreciate a few light refreshments after your journey. Dinner can be served here, should you prefer, or in the main dining room.”

Kate glanced at the table, already certain this was where she would dine. “This is perfect,” she began. “Are there any other guests?”

“No, ma’am,” Langdon replied. “And none are expected.”

Thank God, she thought. No introductions, meaningless chit-chat, questions, or condolences.

“In the master closet, you’ll find an estate robe and slippers, along with a few additional items procured for your stay. Should you require anything further, your stylist is scheduled to meet with you tomorrow morning at nine, but she’s at your disposal should you wish to adjust the time.”

Kate nodded, but her attention was captured by the executive workstation positioned near the far wall. “Floating high-res monitors. Herman Miller chair,” she began. “Power and network ports, cable management, and task lighting—this setup was designed by an expert.”

Langdon nodded and smiled. “The card on the desk provides details on accessing the estate’s network.” He paused, a hint of humor threading his voice. “I suspect, given your expertise, you’ll find the setup adequate. Mr. Moshenski has asked that you refrain from exploring the estate’s network security. He suspects you would have little difficulty circumventing our defenses but would prefer you not test that theory.”

Kate allowed herself a faint smile. “Understood.”

When Langdon left, Kate dropped her bag onto the couch and plopped down alongside. For the first time in days, she felt a flicker of calm. Just a flicker, but for now, it was enough.

* * *

Whether consciously or not, everything about her arrival at the estate had been in slow motion. Bathing, changing, dinner in the room—even setting up her devices—each step had been careful, methodical, and calculated. But beneath it all, she knew the truth: she was afraid.

Moore’s NanoVault was a Pandora’s box. At the last possible moment, Jake’s files had been transferred to the device, but their condition was a mystery. She suspected some files would be corrupt. But how many? And how important? She was afraid of what she might find—and might not. She was afraid to fail.

She sat at the workstation, her fingers cradling the device, hesitating as the weight of its history pressed down on her. 

Jake’s files weren’t just answers to his final riddle—they were a reckoning. And now, with his files tucked inside Moore’s one-of-a-kind device, Kate wondered what else was on Moore’s NanoVault. What secrets might Devin have secured on the vault, Kate wondered. What did he think was so valuable, so important, he never took this off—except to bargain for his life?

Kate took a deep breath, steadying herself. You can do this, she thought, echoing Jake’s words from the video. Solve the puzzle. See what everyone else missed.

She pushed the fear aside, connected the device to her system, and considered Moore’s passcode.

Hardly unique, she thought. He must have believed the code’s irrelevance added security. In that regard, he wasn’t wrong. Most passwords, phrases, and codes had a personal connection, and with enough time and background information, they were relatively easy to break.

Kate recalled Moore lying on the floor, his trachea crushed, the image of him gasping for air and pleading silently for her help burned into her mind. With trembling hands, he tore the device from the chain around his neck and pressed it into her palm. His right hand lifted weakly, flashing three fingers, then one, then four, repeating the sequence over and over—three, one, four.

She turned to the NanoVault and set its mechanical dials to the first seven digits of Pi:

3-1-4-1-5-9-2

The lock clicked open.

***

Author Bio

Michael Maloof is the author of the Kate Preacher Thriller Series—RelentlessUnstoppable, and Defiant—known for its global scope, emotional intensity, and hard-won authenticity. His novels draw readers into high-stakes worlds where intelligence, courage, and consequence collide. A lifelong adventurer, Michael has traveled to more than forty countries across six continents, experiences that deeply inform his writing. His real-world pursuits have ranged from gold dredging in Honduras and artifact hunting in Guatemala to acquiring uncut diamonds in Liberia and surviving an elephant charge in Kenya. He has also trained alongside Navy SEALs, Marine Raiders, Army Rangers, Green Berets, and the CIA—firsthand insights that lend his fiction uncommon realism and respect for the craft of service.

Social Media Links

www.MichaelMaloof.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads – @MichaelGoWrite
BookBub – @MichaelMaloof
Instagram – @MichaelGoWrite
Facebook – @MichaelGoWrite
YouTube – @MichaelGoWrite

Purchase Links

Amazon – https://pictbooks.tours/vAKMvbOk

Kindle Unlimited – https://pictbooks.tours/CoLeZ0AY

BN – https://pictbooks.tours/fsu4Q81F

BookShop.org – https://pictbooks.tours/64sO3YOk

Goodreads – https://pictbooks.tours/RXNOzdkF

BookBub – https://pictbooks.tours/m00c5UO7

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PICT GIVEAWAY

https://pictbooks.tours/8u06eSFI

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Relentless by Michael Maloof

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for RELENTLESS (Kate Preacher Thriller Series Book #1) by Michael Maloof on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links, and a PICT giveaway. Enjoy!

***

Book Description

On the eve of her five-year wedding anniversary, a devastating terrorist attack in Paris thrusts former CIA analyst Kate Preacher into a lethal cat-and-mouse game of kill or be killed…

Kate’s husband, retired Navy SEAL Jake Church, is the right man in the wrong place. Caught in the middle of the Paris attack, Jake’s actions spark an international media storm, drawing unwanted attention and awakening old enemies.

Refusing to let the suspicious attack go unquestioned…or the perpetrators go unpunished, Kate’s lured back into a world of deception and betrayal—a world she thought she had escaped. And as the pieces in a twisted puzzle reveal a shocking global conspiracy, the investigation paints a target on her back.

Is Kate just a pawn in a deadly international plot, or can she outplay a ruthless killer?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/199581912-relentless?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=dwqoXt9hBL&rank=1

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

RELENTLESS (Kate Preacher Thriller Series Book #1) by Michael Maloof is an explosive international crime thriller and first book in a series featuring a female former CIA agent that had me hooked immediately. I am so glad this is a series because I did not want this story to end.

Former CIA agent Kate Preacher is on the eve of her five-year wedding anniversary with her husband. Jake is a retired SEAL and now heads up a private security firm and is on assignment in Paris, France. Jake is on a Facetime call with Kate when he is suddenly in the middle of a terrorist attack. Jake’s actions cause unwanted media attention and questions of his real purpose at being in that place at that time.

Kate’s suspicion of the attack will not let her sit back and wait for answers. She wants all the perpetrators to pay. What she does not realize is her questions and actions are being followed by friends and foes alike and what she does not know is which is which.

This book pulled me in from page one and at every chapter end, I would say, “just one more”, until it was well into the night and I had finished the book. Kate Preacher is a brilliant, bad ass, and relentless protagonist that I was emotionally attached to the entire book, from her happiness to her depths of despair. (The funeral chapter had me in tears with tissues in full use.) The action is fast paced, realistic, and had me on the edge of my seat throughout. The secondary characters are as fully developed and fleshed out as Kate herself and kept me continually surprised by their actions and motives. The crime plot is intricately intertwined with action, misdirection, and believable situations.

This is an amazing female protagonist forward thriller that I highly recommend!

***

Excerpt

FRIDAY, APRIL 17, THE PRESENT

6:15 AM EDT

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Nomad flexed his right wrist, and with the palm of his hand, eased the joystick forward. The motor on his wheelchair hummed, and he maneuvered toward the center of the workstation. This environment was his creation. The height set to accommodate his chair with room beneath to manipulate the joystick. With subtle right or left pressure on the stick, he could navigate the full semicircle desk and jump between clients and projects.

There were traditional keyboards and mice, but the layer of fine dust revealed little use. Nomad’s world was one of proprietary speech recognition technology and the pressure-sensitive controls he designed and added to his chair. His forearms, wrists, fingers, head and voice all served as system navigation and command-and-control interfaces.

A matrix of monitors, stacked three high and eight across, spanned the arc of the desk and formed his window on the outside world. As a C6 quadriplegic, what he lost in physical mobility he regained in the virtual world. He chose the name Nomad for the irony, and believed his world offered freedom, control, and safety.

Nomad scanned the monitors. His building’s security cameras, global news feeds, random engineering musings of a few MIT grads on Slack. Another monitor was hammering away on a client’s file with one of his decryption algorithms. No challengers yet on any of his virtual chess boards, and that brought him to the Frenchman, his favorite opponent.

The central monitor was a live, split-screen camera feed from the Frenchman’s Paris apartment. One feed came from the Frenchman’s laptop, and the other from the camera embedded in the smart TV. It was Nomad’s practice to plant malware on the systems of anyone in his inner circle. What began as a safety protocol became something more, and he watched and lived vicariously through his contact’s living rooms and their digital and social media lives.

Nomad glanced at the camera feed’s system clock. Twelve-fifteen. It was almost time. He hoped the apartment would be empty, but saw Francois scurrying about, preparing for the meeting. Nomad knew it was pointless, but he had to try one more time.

Francois’s laptop rang with Nomad’s encrypted call request. He watched the Frenchman approach the laptop and press cancel. Nomad tried again, and this time he watched Francois accept the call.

“I admire your determination,” Francois began, “but there’s nothing left to discuss.”

“Look, I know how it sounds, but I’m begging you to trust me,” Nomad said. “You need to leave.”

“You ask for trust, but hide in the shadows.”

“Who I am is not important. All you need to know is that your life is in danger.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “For one thing, I know who you are, but rest assured, your secret is safe with me. Why you’ve chosen this life, I will never understand, but that is your business and now you must leave me to mine.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, no, my friend. You misunderstand,” Francois said. “This is just a promise that I will keep you out of the discussion, but Moore Industries needs to know what you found. They believe the device is impenetrable, exceeding even the capabilities of quantum computing, and with millions relying on this technology, I have no choice. There is no room for debate.” 

“You’re missing the point,” Nomad said. “Tens of millions of customers is exactly why Moore will do anything to protect the NanoVault’s reputation.”

“Again with the conspiracy theories,” Francois said. “You watch too much American TV. I am a respected academic meeting with a representative of a major corporation, not the KGB.”

“I pray I’m wrong,” Nomad said.

“Au revoir, my friend.”

“Wait,” Nomad said. “Before you hang up, what makes you think you know who I am?”

“I understand some hackers have a signature, patterns of behavior, code or techniques they use, that help identify the author.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“So do chess players.”

Nomad heard the knock at the Frenchman’s door. Francois called out to his visitor, and the call ended.

* * *

FRIDAY, APRIL 17

12:17 PM CEST (Central European Summer Time)

PARIS, FRANCE

Francois LeGrande imagined his meeting with the Moore Industries representative. They’ll want to see my research and review my findings. A lucrative offer for my work would be nice, but it would be an honor to receive one of Moore’s Distinguished Fellowships.

Francois rushed to answer the door. He never saw what the masked man pressed into his side, but the effect was immediate. His body convulsed, knees buckled, and his head struck the floor. Next came the duct tape over his mouth and around his wrists and ankles. He lay on the floor of his apartment, dazed and in pain, only half-aware of the large black boot that passed over his face.

Adrenaline surged. His heart raced. He fought to focus his thoughts. Blinked and squinted to clear his vision. He squirmed and wrestled against the restraints. Tried to call out, to scream. Nothing worked. In the futile struggle to free himself, his breathing was rapid and shallow. His vision blurred, and the room spun. Don’t pass out, he thought. Just breathe. Slow down. Listen. 

From the hallway, it was difficult to know what the stranger was doing. Was Nomad right? No. Can’t be. If he was here to kill me, I’d be dead already. Then what? What does he want? His head throbbed as he thought back to the fleeting image of opening the door and looking up at the face. There was no face. Just a blur of gray and white rectangles. The man’s ball cap and hoodie obscured any chance of street cameras catching his approach to the building, and the camouflage mask stretched tight from his forehead to his neck prevented facial recognition.

Francois tried to follow the sound of the stranger’s steps. The attic apartment, converted from an 18th-century mansion, was elegant but small. While it suited the Frenchman, it took only moments to explore. He heard the wheels of the office chair as they rolled across the hardwood floor. 

He’s in the bedroom. 

The bedroom served as his home office. Stacks of books and papers shared his bed, and most of the floor. He pictured the stranger seated at his laptop and cursed his decision to close the connection with Nomad. If he knew, if he saw, he would call the police. 

There was an odd sound. An electronic chirp beeping slowly at first, then faster and louder, then slow again. Finally, a solid tone for a moment, then silence.

Francois heard the tones of a cell phone. Too many digits, he thought. Not a local number.

“I have it,” the man said. “No, it has to be tonight. And count yourself lucky I could make this work on short notice.” There was another brief pause and then the call wrapped up. “Yes. Yes. I’ll keep it safe. Now, send me the drop site.”

American, Francois thought, and at that moment, all hope vanished. The businessman he thought might still arrive, might somehow intervene. The man he was expecting was already here. Despair wrapped him in an ice-cold blanket and he trembled. He stopped fighting back the tears and sobbed.

The American dragged Francois down the hallway and into the living room, and the tears gave way to terror when he surveyed the room. A chair from the small kitchen table was in the center. A rope stretched over the ancient oak beam that framed the ridge-line of the apartment’s ceiling, and a noose hung above the chair.

The duct tape muffled his attempts to cry out, and the masked man had little trouble setting the slight Frenchman on the chair. He slipped the noose over Francois’s head and pulled on the rope. Francois stiffened his back, lifted his chin, and gasped for air. The man kept one hand on the rope and the other drew a knife. With a flick and click, the blade locked into place, and in one sudden move he cut the tape binding Francois’s feet. He pulled the slack from the rope and Francois’s only escape from suffocation was to climb up on the chair.

The American tied the rope to the radiator, then stood directly in front of Francois and stared. The mask was disorienting, and Francois found it difficult to focus. He saw a black leather jacket and a gray hoodie. He saw dark blue jeans, and the boots. Large black boots. He could be anyone on the streets of Paris, even one of my students. What is he waiting for? What does he want? 

“Let’s talk.”

The words startled him and Francois wobbled atop the wooden kitchen chair. The noose made it difficult to breathe, much less answer questions. When he raised up on the balls of his feet, he could almost take a full breath, but the old chair flexed and creaked when he moved. He knew at any moment it might collapse and he would hang.

“I’m going to remove the duct tape,” the masked man said. “I suggest you remain still. And quiet,” and he gave the rope a slight tug. “Understand?”

Francois nodded, and the stranger ripped the duct tape off the old man’s face. The Frenchman scrunched his eyes, gritted his teeth, and wrinkled his nose. Tears and snot seeped into his mustache. The American balled up the tape and noticed the collection of gray hair.

“Trust me,” he said. “Faster is better.” And then he reached into his jacket, fished out the shiny black device, and held it out for the Frenchman to see.

“Did you crack it?”

Laying in the palm of his glove was a Moore Industries NanoVault. The polished black onyx device, about the size of a woman’s lipstick, was ringed with seven combination dials that controlled access to the device’s unique properties. For the first time since the masked man crashed through his door, Francois thought he understood what was happening. He thinks I’m after the bounty. He thinks I’ve cracked the encryption.

The offer of a bounty, paid in anonymous, untraceable, and tax-free Bitcoins, intrigued cryptographic researchers and enticed the hacker denizens in every corner of the Darknet. Crack the encryption on a Quantum NanoVault, known affectionately as a portable Swiss Bank account, and you’d learn the location of 1,000 Bitcoins. What started as a clever promotional stunt became a worldwide phenomenon when Bitcoin values rose exponentially, and the bounty, still unclaimed, grew to tens of millions of dollars.

“No. No, Monsieur. I assure you, this device is worthless.”

“My client insisted I retrieve this specific device,” he said. “And paid handsomely to recover it immediately. I’d like to know why. What makes this device so valuable?”

“Please. Just take it and go.”

Francois imagined his ordeal might soon be over. He has what he came for. He can just leave.

The American slipped the device back into his pocket and glanced at his watch.

“What’s the combination?”

“It’s not locked.”

“What’s on it?”

“Nothing. I assure you, it’s completely blank,” and Francois nodded toward the laptop. “Go. See for yourself. You will see. It’s empty.”

The American took the device back to the desk, and the NanoVault connected automatically. He returned moments later.

“You’re right, it’s blank,” he said. “But if you’re not using it, why have one?”

“Research,” and Francois nodded toward the back wall. The American turned to see a lifetime of achievement and accolades. Among the faded degrees hanging on the wall were journal clippings, edges curled and fraying, a small shelf of dusty mathematics awards, and a handful of student group photos. Missing was any semblance of a life outside of academia. No wife. No family.

“Then, tell me Professeur,” he said, exaggerating the Frenchman’s academic position. “What makes this device so special?”

“Oh, but it’s not. It’s like any other. Available at any—”

The slap caught him before he could finish.

***

Author Bio

Michael Maloof is the author of the Kate Preacher Thriller Series—RelentlessUnstoppable, and Defiant—known for its global scope, emotional intensity, and hard-won authenticity. His novels draw readers into high-stakes worlds where intelligence, courage, and consequence collide. A lifelong adventurer, Michael has traveled to more than forty countries across six continents, experiences that deeply inform his writing. His real-world pursuits have ranged from gold dredging in Honduras and artifact hunting in Guatemala to acquiring uncut diamonds in Liberia and surviving an elephant charge in Kenya. He has also trained alongside Navy SEALs, Marine Raiders, Army Rangers, Green Berets, and the CIA—firsthand insights that lend his fiction uncommon realism and respect for the craft of service.

Social Media Links

www.MichaelMaloof.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads – @MichaelGoWrite
BookBub – @MichaelMaloof
Instagram – @MichaelGoWrite
Facebook – @MichaelGoWrite
YouTube – @MichaelGoWrite

Purchase Links

Amazon – https://pictbooks.tours/JI3IyN17

Kindle Unlimited – https://pictbooks.tours/ahc4xhit

BN – https://pictbooks.tours/2VukQFqg

BookShop.org – https://pictbooks.tours/DSBQBKeO

Goodreads – https://pictbooks.tours/h9Ohl17R

BookBub – https://pictbooks.tours/r1uwUga4

###

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Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Whispers At Dusk by Heather Graham

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for WHISPERS AT DUSK (The Blackbird Trilogy Book #1) by Heather Graham on this HTP Books Spring 2023 Romance Blog Tour.

Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book, and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!

***

Book Summary

Don’t miss the first book in the brand-new, suspense-filled trilogy spinning out of Heather Graham’s popular Krewe of Hunters series!

The Krewe of Hunters goes international with the introduction of Blackbird, a brand new team of operatives bringing justice, and their unique talent of speaking to the dead, to Europe!

They’ve barely finished stopping one serial killer on American soil before FBI agents Della Hamilton and Mason Carter are brought into the fold and sitting in a jet bound for Norway. A disturbed individual has been killing their way across the continent, starting in the United Kingdom and eventually making their way to the sleepy town of Lillehammer. The victims have been left completely drained of blood, with two telltale pinpricks in their necks! As the body count rises the couple must bring all of their abilities to bear as they work to uncover the identity of this vampire killer and put a stop to the terror they’ve begun to inspire.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/62924831-whispers-at-dusk?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=5X2W69mlql&rank=1

Whispers at Dusk

Author: Heather Graham

ISBN: 9780778333562

Publication Date: June 27, 2023

Publisher: MIRA

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

WHISPERS AT DARK (The Blackbird Trilogy Book #1) by Heather Graham is an intriguing first book in a trilogy spinoff of the Krewe of Hunters series featuring a group of international law enforcement agents being led by two FBI agents who are able to see and interact with ghosts. This book is a mash-up of paranormal mystery/international crime suspense and a romance between the two FBI agents, but the emphasis is on the crimes and chase with not a lot of depth to the romance. You can pick this book up and easily read it without having read any of the Krewe of Hunters books.

Dead bodies are turning up of young American tourists and students laid out peacefully besides bodies of water drained of blood with two puncture wounds in their necks in England, France, and Norway. A member of the Krewe of Hunters, FBI Agent Della Hamilton is paired with FBI Agent Mason Carter who both have the ability to communicate with ghosts.

Della and Mason discover there is a “Master” training others to kill with the promise of immortality. Working with an international group of law enforcement personnel, some of the Krewe of Hunters back in the States, and a few friendly ghosts, they follow the Master back to New Orleans. As the investigation heats up so does the relationship between Della and Mason. Della needs to put herself out as bait since the Master wants her as a mate, but Mason has already lost one partner and is not willing to lose Della, too.

I enjoyed this new international spin-off from the Krewe of Hunters series. The crime mystery and suspense are paced well and kept me following along with the muti-country chase and there are a few surprising twists. The historical facts scattered throughout are interesting and the ghosts were benevolent. The romance between Della and Mason felt just a little thin to me. When they came together and interacted as a couple, it was believable, but I just wish there had been more emotion and not just trust between partners although that was important, too.

Overall, a good beginning for this new paranormal mystery/international crime suspense spin-off. I am looking forward to reading the next book in the trilogy.

***

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Mason Carter knew he had backup. The man now holding seventeen-year-old Melissa Wells hostage had been busy for months, and law enforcement across the country had been on his tail. Spread about in various positions outside, an FBI SWAT crew was situated along with local police who knew the area well.

Still, they were in bayou country surrounded by snake-and alligator-infested waters and a range of high grasses, trees, and brush that might hinder any assistance.

Though he’d left a trail of carnage across the country by taking nine victims along the way, the killer’s identity was unknown. He’d left behind fingerprints, but they couldn’t be found in any database, and nothing else discovered by any agency across the country had given them a single clue toward discovering his identity. The truth existed somewhere; it just hadn’t been found as yet.

He’d been labeled the Midnight Slasher since most of his abductions and kills had been after midnight. His note—handwritten and mailed from Las Vegas to the NYC FBI offices—had assured them he was fond of his moniker, and he’d try to make sure his murders did, indeed, occur after midnight in the future. He’d really have preferred being the Vampire, but that name had already gone to a coworker who was busy in Europe.

Coworker?

Mason knew about murders that were being called “the vampire killings” in Europe. He doubted this man and the European madman knew each other, though it appeared they were trying to outdo one another.

But then again, he didn’t really know.

Maybe this killer needed the moniker because he was such an ordinary-looking man. Not exactly handsome—cute might be a term applied to him. He didn’t appear at all insane or creepy as some seemed to think he must appear, not at all as people might think a maniacal killer should look.

He was about twenty-seven—the profilers had been right on his age—six feet even, perhaps a hundred and seventy pounds, with shaggy dirty blond hair, a clean-shaven face and friendly brown eyes. He smiled a lot. Mason could see how he’d managed easily enough to charm or coerce his victims out with him to a place where they might be alone.

And here they were. Mason had trailed the killer from Virginia and had suspected from the few clues he’d been told by the locals that the man would steal a boat and bring his victim far into the bayou. He’d been at the forefront of the investigation, and he called in as he made his way, seeking help from any and all law enforcement agency so they might really end the reign of the Midnight Slasher with a true force against him.

But Mason was the one who now stood alone, facing the man who held the teenaged girl, his blood-stained knife held so tightly to her throat that a trickle of blood ran down to her collarbone. Her terror-filled eyes were on Mason. She didn’t want to die.

Mason didn’t want her to die, either.

He was a good shot—but he’d still have to be at his fastest to hit the man before the knife could slide into the soft flesh of her throat and on to arteries and veins and…

“Okay, Midnight Slasher,” he said, his Glock trained hard on the man, “do you really want to die today?”

“I’ve been here before, and I’m still alive!” the killer said. The girl let out a terrified whimper; the killer had jerked with his words. Another trail of blood slid down to her collarbone.

“I don’t know. You’re in bayou country now. With people who know it well,” Mason said, shrugging.

It was truly doubtful the man would survive the day if he didn’t surrender, but Mason was telling the truth. And it was true, too, that before Mason had been called in on the case, the killer had escaped a similar situation in the Shenandoah mountains.

He had killed his hostage and tossed her to his would-be captors before escaping.

Backup wasn’t going to help.

Not here. Not now. While agents and officers might be all around, Mason was alone in the cabin with the man. His backup crew was holding. They all knew if the killer heard anyone trying to enter from the rear or break down any of the old wooden walls, the girl would die.

“You can do it, and there is no choice,” a voice whispered to Mason.

He was alone in the cabin with the killer—and with the ghost of one Gideon Grimsby, an Englishman who had come to the new world to meet, befriend, and then serve under the legendary Jean Laffite. He had fought at the Battle of New Orleans. Gideon had survived the battle, fallen in love and changed his ways—only to be shot down in the street by a vengeful man who had once coveted the beauty who had become Gideon’s wife.

Now, Gideon enjoyed the music of New Orleans, watched over his descendants and tended to haunt Frenchman Street. But having realized Mason was aware of him at a lounge one night, he’d discovered his afterlife of being a ghostly—and very helpful—investigator as well.

“Do it. Do it, Mason lad, you must!” Gideon said. “He’s going to kill her. The officers and agents outside will lose patience. They’ll seek entry as you know they must. And this rotten beast will die, but so will she. Dammit, man, take your shot!”

“I have to be sure!” Mason said the words aloud and cursed himself. He was accustomed to seeing the dead. And he’d learned before he was ten not to be seen talking to them.

But maybe this time it was good.

“Who the hell are you talking to?” the killer demanded.

Mason made a split-second decision and shrugged, saying, “I guess you can’t see him. Gideon is here. You’d have liked him. He was a pirate. Well, he was, but then cleaned up his act. And sadly wound up being murdered, but he’s enjoying his afterlife.”

“Man, they think I’m crazy. You’re crazy!” the killer said.

There was suddenly a gentle tap at the door to the cabin, surprising both Mason and the killer. Mason knew he frowned as the killer frowned. No one was bursting in; it was a gentle and polite tap.

The killer’s young hostage let out a terrified squeak as the knife drew closer against her flesh.

“What the hell?” the killer murmured. “You—you go and see what those idiots outside want. Because I’m telling you, you can kill me today, but she will die with me.” He laughed. “Maybe the two of us can haunt you, too.”

“God help me,” Mason murmured. “Fine. You want me to check the door?”

“Yeah. I want to see who is trying what.”

His gun still trained on the killer, Mason backed to the door.

“We don’t need any disruptions here,” he said loudly.

“I’m not a disruption,” a female voice said. “I’m unarmed. I just wanted to offer to trade myself for Melissa Wells.”

“What?” Mason demanded.

“Open the door, check her out. See if she’s really unarmed,” the killer said. “And don’t forget—if I’m going, she’s going with me!”

Mason cracked the door open. There was a woman standing there, mid-to late-twenties, about five foot eight with long light brown hair and a striking thin face. She was wearing black knit leggings and a tunic and lifted her arms to show that she carried nothing.

“I’m really a better choice,” she said, looking around Mason to see and talk to the killer. “Think of it! If you don’t manage to escape and get out of this or if you do, you’ll have killed a special agent or used her for your escape. I’m Della Hamilton, FBI. And I know you like your victims to have long hair. My hair is long and I’m the right age… Come on. This kid is a teenager. So far, you’ve at least chosen victims who were out of high school!” She paused, shaking her head. “You have a reputation. You’re a famous killer—don’t sully all that by having people think you were a pedophile.”

Apparently, she’d said just the right thing.

“I am not a pedophile!” the Midnight Slasher protested. “That’s disgusting. I haven’t gotten it down right yet, but I’m working on it, and I will be a master! I will learn to… Well, never mind! I will achieve what is necessary!”

“Whatever,” Mason said dryly. “And she has one hell of a point, I mean, you want to be a master killer, get it all right…perfect it all. But you don’t want to be remembered as a pedophile. That would…well, ruin your whole legacy.”

“Yeah, yeah… I never touched any of them. Except to kill them. And I was going to get it all right this time, but you found a stupid boat and followed me and… Ah, screw it! But you’re right. The pretty girl at the door can get me out of here, or… Well, I will be known for having killed a special agent! Yeah! Get in here, Special Agent Whoever. You come straight to me. When I can switch the knife over, this kid can go. But you need to know—if I die today, you die, too.”

“I’m willing to accept that,” Special Agent Della Hamilton said.

The killer laughed. “Suicidal, eh?”

“No, I just think I can talk you down,” she said. “And frankly, you fascinate me! Your mind is so amazing! And I’m older, okay, and maybe this is only in my own mind, but I think I’m…well, sexier, grown-up, and just a better choice for a victim all the way around. If you want to be famous—kill an agent!”

“Talk me down? I don’t think so. But I fascinate you? And you really are pretty damned gorgeous, so…hmm. Okay, lady, come on.”

“I am coming—when this guy lets me!” she said, smiling and shrugging to Mason.

“Let her by!”

“She wants you to take the shot during the exchange!” the ghost of Gideon Grimsby said. The ghost’s presence was near him. He all but whispered in Mason’s ear, almost startling him.

But Mason was staring at Della Hamilton, and she nodded at the words. As if she had heard them.

Had she?

He’d heard there were others like him. He’d even heard there was a special “ghostbusters” unit in the Bureau with some nothing title like Special Circumstances Unit.

He inclined his head; she blinked, letting him know she had the message.

“I’m coming over…slowly, slowly, and I’ll back up so you can free Melissa and get the knife right on me…”

She walked to him just as she had said she would do.

The killer moved the knife to push Melissa forward and reach out for Della Hamilton. And as he did, Della Hamilton dropped down, shouting, “Now!”

And Mason fired.

Melissa leaned to the side; Della was hunkered close to the floor.

The bullet hit the killer dead center in the forehead. While Melissa shrieked and cried with relief, the Midnight Slasher fell without a whimper.

The killer was dead. The reign of the Midnight Slasher had come to an end.

The wrap-up and the paperwork had just begun.

Naturally, there was chaos at first as other agents and police rushed in. The medical examiner and forensics arrived, and officers held the press at bay. Melissa’s parents were called, but before she raced down to meet them, she fell hysterically into the arms of Della Hamilton and then Mason, telling them, “Oh, my God, thank you, thank you! Thank you, both. You saved my life!”

Mason assured her he was grateful she was alive, as did Della Hamilton.

Gideon Grimsby stood by the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, a proud look on his face. Well, the ghost did like helping.

Mason saw Della Hamilton manage a wave and a nod and mouthed the words, “Thank you,” to Gideon at one point. Gideon smiled and nodded in return.

Mason turned in his firearm as necessary and was surprised to hear that a counselor was waiting to see him in the city. His Glock would be returned in the morning.

Things never happened that fast. He knew something was going on.

Mason was hailed by the waiting officers and agents, and he knew everyone was relieved a serial killer’s spree had come to an end. He wished he could feel celebratory, and he knew he had carried out the only feasible action. But he didn’t feel celebratory, just weary.

Of course, it had been just minutes before midnight when they’d taken down the slasher. With all the aftermath, it was the next day before anyone left the bayou country. And because of where they were, the press had finally arrived, but thankfully, by then the action was over and officers arranged to maintain the crime scene. People had a right to know what was going on but keeping details of such an event within ranks might prove to be extremely important.

He was ordered back to the city and the office before Della Hamilton finished a discussion with a member of the forensic team.

He didn’t see her again until they were finishing the last of the paperwork on the case and by then everyone involved was about to keel over.

Sleep was in order. When he was finally able to return to his hotel, he had no trouble crashing down into a sound sleep—despite the fact that dawn had arrived long ago and the sun was shining brightly beyond the heavy drapes that covered his windows.

He woke in the middle of the afternoon. An evening left in NOLA, time to finish up any necessary business, and then a flight back to the DC area in the morning.

Luckily, they’d been so far back in the bayou country the media hadn’t seen any of the takedown. And when asked, he assured the local powers that be he didn’t want his name seen anywhere, which was the right policy as known field agents could be at risk.

A press release saying the Bureau had rescued the Slasher’s latest victim and the man had been killed in the operation was just fine with Mason. He wondered if Della Hamilton was going to want more recognition.

She didn’t.

Mason was out on Royal Street, trying to decide on a restaurant for dinner, when he looked into a shop front and saw a TV screen showing the news.

The takedown had been perceived just as he’d hoped—a joint effort by the FBI and local authorities.

A lot of his friends at the local FBI offices and police precincts he’d come to know in NOLA had wanted to get together that night. And while he truly enjoyed a lot of the camaraderie and understood the feelings of many that a celebration was in order, he just wanted to be on his own that night.

He felt as if he needed to shake something off.

He decided then to go over to Magazine Street for dinner and hopefully some soothing music at one of its many restaurants. He was surprised when Gideon slid into a seat beside him there; he’d been nursing a scotch and listening to some great jazz, something that helped still his mind.

“You are a strange bird,” Gideon told him. 

“Why?”

“That fellow stole the greatest gift from so many—the gift of life. Mason, you stopped him.”

“With your help, for which I’m grateful—”

“And the help of Della Hamilton. I hung around her awhile earlier. She’s something, huh? As they say in your time, that girl has balls! Wait, she can’t, can she. Guts? Would that be right? She has guts!”

“She saw you in a flash,” Mason said. “And by the way, I am glad I brought a killer down. I’m just tired of… I took his life. I guess I hate killing.”

“But you love saving.”

Mason shrugged. “I will always act in the best interests of the victim. Let’s listen to the music, huh?”

“Sure. There’s a meeting tomorrow morning. Some bigwig with the Bureau is coming down tonight. He’s coming specifically to see you—”

“Why? Wait a minute. Last I heard, I run by the NOLA office, pick up another agent to drop me and bring the car back for the next guy who needs it. How did you hear that? I’ll be heading back to DC tomorrow.”

“Maybe not,” Gideon told him. “I heard Della talking to someone on the phone when she left the offices. She was going out, but that call changed things and she didn’t. She decided she’d better get some sleep. You were busy tonight,” Gideon told him, grinning. “You don’t interrupt a counseling session, and then it was a long day! You were supposed to have some dinner, some downtime… You’ll be informed. Apparently, this is…big. A couple of people are heading down from Washington just to discuss this with you.”

“And they informed another agent before me—about my assignment?” Mason asked.

“I’m guessing it involves her,” Gideon said with a shrug. 

“And that would be a darned good thing. You couldn’t do better, from what I saw.”

“She was good, yes. But—”

Mason groaned. Strange. He’d wanted this job; he’d worked hard for this job. But after his years in the military, now he was wondering why. He was good at what he did. He was a good investigator—largely because of a lot of help from the dead. But he was also good at killing.

And it just seemed to be weighing down on him lately.

“Damn you, man!” Gideon said. His accent—which he had largely lost during the many years since his death—came back strong when he was angry. “There is a seventeen-year-old girl alive and in the arms of her family because of you.”

“And Special Agent Hamilton, of course—or mainly,” Mason said dryly.

Gideon nodded. “I was glad to see her. I hadn’t met her, but friends saw her when she worked a case here not too long ago. The bank robbery out of Baton Rouge. They say she tricked the three—it was a woman and two men. That she got them into position by pretending to be a lost tourist, crying and desperate to find her way back to the airboat they’d been on. Anyway, she has a way that makes her excellent in this kind of case. But you! Stop it. When there is no choice, there is no choice. That teenager from today is going to need therapy for the rest of her life most probably, but she’ll have a life. Do you know what that man—so called Midnight Slasher—did to some of his victims?”

“Yes, yes, I do.”

“No, he wasn’t a pedophile. He sliced them, Mason. Slashed and sliced them! Cut off their fingers and ears while they were still alive.”

“I do know,” he said calmly.

Mason was glad he’d paid his tab. He stood. As he’d learned to do, he pretended he was on a phone call as he told Gideon, “I am so grateful she is alive—and our local intelligence knew where to find him before he could hurt her. Truly, I am. I just… I guess I wish I’d been a negotiator. I’d like to talk someone down for a change.”

“You talk them down when you can—you save the victim when you can’t,” Gideon said.

Mason nodded. “Yes, I know. Guess I’m tired.”

“You should be. Get some sleep.”

“I’m going to.”

“Finish listening to the jazz. See you in the morning,” Gideon said, and then he was gone.

That was the problem sometimes befriending ghosts. Since they were excellent at slipping away through crowds and even walls, it was extremely difficult to have the last word with them.

Excerpted from Whispers at Dusk by Heather Graham. Copyright © 2023 by Heather Graham Pozzessere. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

***

Author Bio

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Heather Graham has written more than a hundred novels. She’s a winner of the RWA’s Lifetime Achievement Award, and the Thriller Writers’ Silver Bullet. She is an active member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America. For more information, check out her websites: TheOriginalHeatherGraham.com, eHeatherGraham.com, and HeatherGraham.tv. You can also find Heather on Facebook.

Social Media Links

Author Website

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/HeatherGrahamAuthor

Twitter: @HeatherGraham

Purchase Links

BookShop.org

Harlequin 

Barnes & Noble

Amazon

Books-A-Million

Powell’s

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Phoenix Project by Michelle Kidd

The Phoenix Project (DI Jack MacIntosh #1) by Michelle Kidd

#ThePhoenixProject #DIJackMacIntosh @AuthorKidd @damppebbles #damppebblesblogtours

Hi, everyone!

Today is my turn on the Damppebbles Blog Tour to share my Feature Post and Book Review for THE PHOENIX PROJECT (DI Jack MacIntosh Book #1) by Michelle Kidd. This is an exciting thriller/international crime/mystery mash-up that is the first book in a new series by a new to me author.

Below you will find a book blurb, my book review, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!

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Book Blurb

How long can the past remain buried?

A simple message in a local newspaper. A set of highly sensitive documents left in the back of a London black cab. Both events collide to cause Isabel Faraday’s life to be turned upside down. Growing up believing her parents died in a car crash when she was five, Isabel learns the shocking truth; a truth that places her own life in danger by simply being a Faraday. Detective Inspector Jack MacIntosh of the Metropolitan Police races against time to save her, and at the same time unravels long forgotten secrets involving MI5, MI6, the KGB and NASA. Secrets that have lain dormant for twenty years. Secrets worth killing for. With kidnap, murder and suicides stretching across four continents, just what is the Phoenix Project?

The Phoenix Project is the first Detective Inspector Jack MacIntosh novel.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42112850-the-phoenix-project

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE PHOENIX PROJECT (DI Jack MacIntosh Book #1) by Michelle Kidd is an exciting thriller/international crime/mystery mash-up that is the first book in a new series by a new to me author.

Isabel Faraday is about to go from a simple shop assistant to becoming the center of an international plot which has her on the run for her life.

Long kept secrets that have lain dormant for twenty years are on the verge of being exposed, but there is a contingent that will do anything and kill anyone to prevent that from happening. Everyone is involved, MI5, MI6, the FBI, NASA and the KGB and with Isabel’s life on the line, Detective Inspector Jack MacIntosh of the Metropolitan Police races against time to save Isabel and unravel the secrets of the Phoenix Project and a secret organization protecting it called PRISM.

What is the Phoenix Project?

This book is a little confusing at first, not just trying to understand why Isabel is in danger, but also because there are so many characters from many different agencies. Once you get everything sorted out, each turn of the page increases the pace of the plot. The thrills, twists and turns, murders and intrigue take off and continues to crescendo towards a very satisfying conclusion. I was especially intrigued with Jack and I believe he is a great protagonist to follow into future books.

I am looking forward to following DI Jack MacIntosh and author Michelle Kidd in the future.

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About the Author

Michelle Kidd is a self-published author known for the Detective Inspector Jack MacIntosh series of novels.

Michelle qualified as a lawyer in the early 1990s and spent the best part of ten years practising civil and criminal litigation.

But the dream to write books was never far from her mind and in 2008 she began writing the manuscript that would become the first DI Jack MacIntosh novel – The Phoenix Project. The book took eighteen months to write, but spent the next eight years gathering dust underneath the bed.

In 2018 Michelle self-published The Phoenix Project and had not looked back since. There are currently three DI Jack MacIntosh novels, with a fourth in progress.

Michelle works full time for the NHS and lives in Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk. She enjoys reading, wine and cats – not necessarily in that order J

Bibliography

The Phoenix Project (DI Jack MacIntosh book 1)

Seven Days (DI Jack MacIntosh book 2)

The Fifteen (DI Jack MacIntosh book 3)

Social Media

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorKidd

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/michellekiddauthor

Website: https://www.michellekiddauthor.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/michellekiddauthor/ 

Purchase Links

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/3nLLqMQ

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2IkU6Jz

Publishing Information:

Published in paperback and digital formats on 5th October 2018