Blurb
for Operation Sheba (Super Agent
Series, Book 1)
Julia
Torrison—codename Sheba—is keeping secrets.
Seventeen
months ago she was one of the CIA’s super agents, facing down dangerous
terrorists with her partner and lover Conrad Flynn. After a mission was blown and Conrad died, Julia was
yanked back to Langley and given a new identity. She is now the
Counterterrorism Center’s top analyst, spending her days at CIA headquarters
and her nights in her boss’s bed. Her former life as a secret agent has been sealed
off with her heart.
Former
SEAL Conrad Flynn—codename Solomon—has his own secrets.
For
starters, he’s not dead. Going under the deepest cover possible, he faked his
own death to save Sheba’s life. Now he must tear that new life apart and ask
for her help to hunt down a traitor inside the Agency’s walls.
Is
Conrad a rogue operative or a jealous ex-lover looking for revenge?
Julia
must risk everything for the man who
still holds her heart in order to decide. Drawn
into a web of seduction and betrayal, she is forced to play the spy game of her
life, flushing out an Agency mole and stopping a hostage situation using
nothing more than her iPod and her intuition.
Excerpt
from Operation Sheba
The wind
chimes outside the patio doors clanged gustily in the wind. Julia sat on the
floor, arms wrapped around her bent legs, watching the wind blow sheets of rain
across the cracked concrete patio.
“Would it
help,” Conrad said quietly from behind Julia, “if I said I was sorry? Again?”
His silhouette reflected in the glass as lightning ripped through the black
sky.
She had
sought solace in her apartment, locking the door behind her and leaving the
lights off. An attempt, Conrad knew, to keep him out so she could hang her head
and lose the control she had been fighting so hard to keep after learning of
Michael Stone’s betrayal.
“No. It
wouldn’t help.” Her voice sounded steady and yet still smart with emotion.
“You’d be lying. You’re not sorry it’s Michael.”
“But I am
sorry the asshole did a number on you.”
Julia’s
eyebrows rose as she calmly accused him. “The pot calling the kettle black.”
Conrad
clenched his jaw to fight back a response that would only get him in deeper
shit. He couldn’t win this argument. No sense trying.
Julia,
sensing his refusal to argue, shook her head mildly and ignored him again. A
crack of lightning, the follow-up roll of thunder a few seconds later. Long
minutes of silence.
Conrad
shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Damn this sucked. He wanted her
to lash out at him, yell, slam a door, cry in his arms again—like that hadn’t
freaked him out a little, she never cried, but even that was preferable to this
sudden silence—do something to blow off her anger and hurt. Then he could help
her. But this…this withdrawal wasn’t healthy. The emotions would detonate
inside her.
Maybe he
should get in her face, argue with her until she broke. Tell her why he wasn’t
like Stone. She would break, he knew that, and he damn sure would be there to
pick up the pieces this time. “You have to talk to me, Jules.”
“No,
actually, I don’t. Leave me alone. I need some time to think.”
“I have more
information, more proof, if you want to see it.”
Julia cut
her gaze to him as the rain continued to pelt the concrete. “I’ve seen and
heard enough. The less I know, the more…how did Smitty put it? Effective? Yes
that’s the word. The less I know the more effective
I’ll be in your little sting operation.”
“So you’re
going to help us?”
She snorted.
“Do I have a choice?”
No, he wanted to say, his need for her help almost as
bad as his need for her forgiveness. At the same time he felt compelled after
what he’d put her through to give her an out. “You always have a choice. I
can’t force you to do this, to work with me.”
Her body
tensed and he knew he’d said the wrong thing, although he wasn’t sure why it
was wrong. Her help was critical to the success of the operation, but he didn’t
want to push her into a corner. It would only backfire on him.
Her
attention went back to the night outside the door. “What if,” she said, her voice
controlled, deliberate, “the roles had been reversed seventeen months ago? What
if you thought I was dead, Con, and it was your fault?”
Taking a
step back, he let his back slide down the wall on the west side of the patio
doors. He let himself think about it for a moment, but a moment was all it
took. “I’d have gone crazy.”
Her response
was just as quick. “But you’d have survived, just like I did.” And accurate.
Lightning
flickered, illuminating Julia’s body with a blinking, strobe-like effect. The
green eyes were black, her lips set in a grim line. Behind her set face, he
knew she was coming to grips with Stone’s betrayal. With her current situation.
With his request for her help. He watched as she continued to stare out at the
night. She was right, they were survivors. Whatever the outcome of this
operation, they would both survive.
He waited
for her to tell him that. To assert that she would be fine. But silence was all
he got.
Life with
Julia had never been easy, but then he had never opted for easy in his life. To
him, nothing easy was worth having. Challenge was what made his blood flow, his
pulse pound.
Conrad had a
superior operational mind and the balls to put his ideas into action.
Intelligence mixed with cool logic and hyperawareness made him excel at
everything from running agents to troubleshooting tickets for a sold-out game.
Always ready for the next opportunity, he was an artful and cunning risk-taker.
He loved the game and he loved to win.
In the 007 version of the Intelligence world,
Conrad was an outstandingly good spy.
The problem
was he had fallen in love with Julia, his opposite in ways the Myers-Briggs
assessment test couldn’t begin to measure. And although her scope of
assignments had been more limited than his, she was operationally his equal.
That had caused just a few problems.
Being a good
spook was the antithesis of being a normal person. Those who excelled at
flirting with terrorists, assassins, drug dealers and the rest of the Earth’s
scum usually sucked in the everyday departments of spouse, parent, or friend.
That’s all right, he thought. Take all the time you need, love. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never
leaving you again…
About
Misty Evans
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty
Evans
has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy,
and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their
books – and their dreams of being published – to life. Misty likes her coffee
black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she
enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two
spoiled dogs
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