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Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Excerpt & Giveaway! Bait by @LeslieJonesBks @TastyBookTours



Bait
Duty & Honor # 2  
By: Leslie Jones
Releasing April 28th, 2015
Witness Impulse


Blurb
In the next thrilling Duty & Honor novel, a female CIA agent and a Delta Force soldier must catch a deadly assassin… but do they know where the danger truly lies?

After several assassination attempts on an allied royal, the CIA sends in operative Christina Madison—who bears a striking resemblance to the monarch—to pose as the famous princess and draw out her would-be killer.

When Delta Force Lieutenant Gabriel Morgan's team is assigned to Christina's undercover protection detail, he's less than thrilled. Gabe wants nothing to do with a woman whose rumored screw-up nearly got her last team killed. Not to mention there's bad blood between Gabe and the CIA—he doesn't trust anyone who lies for a living.

But once the trap is set and the assassin takes the bait, Gabe must protect her with his life … because danger lurks in the shadows, and now Christina is in the crosshairs.


Buy Links:  Amazon | B & N | iTunes | Kobo | Publisher

Excerpt
Reports of the assassination attempt on Princess Véronique de Savoie barely made a blip on the news outside of Concordia. The tiny country rivaled Liechtenstein in size and importance. As in, very damned little. Most would be hard-pressed to find it on a map.
Inside the CIA, however, the assassination attempt caused a ripple of reaction, starting in the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, bypassing normal channels, and landing directly on case officer Jay Spicer’s desk.
“You want me to do what?” asked Christina Madison, eyes wide as she stared at her boss.
Jay Spicer looked back at her. “Have you been in front of a mirror lately?”
“Sure I have.” Every now and then, someone would comment on her eerie resemblance to the princess of Concordia. Princess Véronique made headlines inside her own country on a regular basis, though rarely outside of it. Concordian cameras and reporters followed her as she labored on various humanitarian projects. She’d been part of a BBC documentary last year on modern royalty in Europe, which Christina had watched out of curiosity. The princess remained gracious in the face of newshounds and paparazzi, even when elbow-deep in dirt planting a new strain of bacteria-resistant corn in Ethiopia or bringing clean well water to rural Bolivians.
Occasionally a European visitor to the Washington, D.C., area would ask if she were, indeed, the princess. Christina would laugh it off with a simple, “Don’t I wish.” Truth be told, she much preferred her anonymous work bringing down money laundering and smuggling operations. Having cameras shoved in her face and every word and action dissected struck her as repugnant.
For the most part, though, Véronique remained one of the royal unknowns.
Christina grabbed a handful of Skittles from the crystal ashtray on Jay’s desk. Red and yellow only. He’d already eaten the green and orange.
“Her face is well known inside Concordia. Resembling someone and taking her place are two different—”
“This comes from the top,” her boss interrupted. “From the director himself. The British government specifically asked for your help.”
Her head began to whirl. The mandatory photographs of the president and CIA director frowned down at her from behind his head. Boring pictures. Boring white walls. The only interesting thing in the whole office was the life-sized cardboard cutout of Captain America planted to the right of the door. “The British? Not the Concordians? I don’t understand, sir.”
Jay leaned forward in his chair and tugged at an earlobe, his ADHD making it impossible for him to sit still. At fifty, he still managed to retain the air of an errant schoolboy. He smirked, cracking his knuckles. Christina crossed her legs, not fooled by his antics. Jay Spicer was a shrewd, brilliant case officer. He counted on his façade to cause people to underestimate him. He would clarify the situation in his own time.
“Princess Véronique is engaged to a landed baron in the UK.”
“He has enough clout to tap the CIA for help?”
“Sort of.” Jay pushed a folder across his cluttered mahogany desk. The beige file sported the banded red and large stamps indicating that it contained classified information.
Christina uncrossed her legs in order to lean forward and snag the folder. She flipped it open. The top page contained a request from … Trevor Carswell?
Jay rocked back, the chair squeaking. He grinned, tapping his fingers. “Julian Brumley,
   
Displaying Leslie.jpgAuthor Info
Leslie Jones has been an IT geek, a graphic designer, and, much like her heroine, an Army Intelligence officer, bringing her firsthand experience to the pages of her works. She's lived in Alaska, Korea, Belgium, Germany, and other exotic locations (including New Jersey). She is a wife, mother, and full-time writer and splits her time between Scottsdale, Arizona, and Cincinnati, Ohio.

Author Links:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

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