Whoever said living well is the best revenge never met the Sisterhood...
Together, the seven fearless friends known as The Sisterhood have served sweet justice to villains who thought they were above the law. But payback has its price, and the Sisterhood's last assignment almost landed them in jail. Now the women are fugitives with a bounty on their heads, but they're not planning on hiding out for long--not when good friends need the kind of help only they can give.
Mitch Riley, the ruthless assistant director of the FBI, intends to frame Cornelia "Nellie" Easter, the judge who helped the Sisterhood evade prison, and their lawyer, Lizzie Fox, in order to save his own career. He's created a special task force to hunt the Sisters down. Mitch has the entire FBI behind him, but he's about to discover that he's no match for seven formidable women with an unbreakable bond and a wickedly cunning plan to bring the fight right to his door...
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1 . Entertaining....
Posted January 15, 2010 by Abby , Vancouver, BCOnce you have read one book....you have to continue with the rest to find out what happened to the girls! Mitch was one nasty dude but I though they could have come up with something better for him!
December 17, 2007
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Excerpt from Hide and Seek by Fern Michaels
If you had known the seven American women of the Sisterhood of Revenge in their other life, the women sunning themselves might appear completely familiar. But upon a second look, you might turn to your companions and say, "No, it's not the American Vigilantes; it's not the Sisterhood. These women have a serenity, a certain jocularity about them. Would vigilantes on the run be painting their toenails and lathering each other with suntan lotion? No, no, these gals must be rich Americans on holiday. The American Vigilantes are somewhere else, playing hide and seek with the authorities, waiting to strike again. . . . Who knows where?"
It was a glorious day with golden sunshine and balmy breezes. At first glance it looked like a luncheon party of chattering young women sitting pool- side, sipping fruity drinks with little umbrellas. From time to time the women stopped talking just long enough to rub more suntan lotion on as they waited for a lunch none of them would eat.
From their perch high on the mountain, their eyes were on the sparkling Mediterranean where District Attorney Jack Emery and martial arts guru Harry Wong, mere dots on the water, were tussling with a catamaran.
Kathryn Lucas, former long-distance truck driver, sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I still can't believe there's a price on our heads. We're wanted fugitives back home. Every bounty hunter in the world will be coming after us one of these days, and here we sit relaxing at the pool."
"Aha! But first they have to find us. What do you think the odds of that are?" Alexis Thorn adjusted the wide-brimmed straw hat over her dark hair. "Even if one of them gets lucky, we have sanctuary here on this mountaintop."
Nikki Quinn squirted coconut-scented lotion into her hand. "We're only granted sanctuary as long as we stay on top of this mountain. The moment we go down the mountain, we're fair game for anyone who thinks they're smart enough to take us down. Padre Messina will do his best to make sure that never happens, but mistakes happen from time to time. As we all know."
"It's such a small village, not even a thousand people," Isabelle Flanders said. "Any stranger will stand out like the proverbial sore thumb. According to Charles, most of the villagers are related to the padre. Annie, and her husband before her, have always taken care of them. She sends the older children off to university, she keeps the church going, buys new fishing boats for the residents. She makes sure all the houses are maintained, she sees to their health, pays the schoolteachers to teach the little ones. She even hired a constable, a third cousin of the padre. The people love her. They won't let anyone up this mountain. That fact you can take to the bank. Plus, the padre will ring the bell if a stranger appears in the village. There's no way a stranger or anyone can get up this mountain without help. I think we're as safe as we can be." Her voice turned ominous sounding when she said, "At least for now."
Former flower shop owner Yoko Akia looked around at her sisters. She was brown as a berry and almost as tiny. The others referred to her as a 90pound stick of dynamite because of her martial arts expertise. "There are hundreds of electronic monitoring devices scattered around the mountain. I feel very safe here, safer than I felt back in the States. I have enjoyed being here so much, and so has Harry, my love. I think paradise must be like this," she said, waving her arms at the profusion of sweet-smelling flowers, the meadows of green grass, the umbrella-like trees and the pungent scent of pine from the forest that carried on the breeze from time to time. "We have everything here . . . a tennis court, this pool, gardens, excellent food from those gardens and from the villagers. We will be learning new survival methods starting tomorrow. And"--she wagged one of her tiny fingers--"we will be expanding our minds, although I know I will never be able to speak German. It is too guttural sounding and my tongue will not work for the words."
The others laughed.
"Guess you aren't going to sleep, then," Kathryn said. "Charles is going to crack the whip." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Do any of you think there's a change in Charles?"
Isabelle whispered in return. "Of course there's a change in him. He's blaming himself because we got caught. Thank God he had the presence of mind to prepare this place for us ahead of time or we'd all be sitting in the slammer. Let's just say Yoko's mission was a bit out of the ordinary and let it go at that. We're here and we have to make the best of it. By the way, Annie has me designing a new schoolhouse for the village. When I'm finished, I'm going to design a small library."
Annie de Silva--who owned the monastery as well as the actual mountain--and her longtime friend Myra Rutledge climbed out of the pool. Both donned terry robes as they made their way across the terra-cotta patio that surrounded the Olympic- sized pool.
"Did I hear my name mentioned?" Annie asked as she towel-dried her hair.
"You did. We were talking about the villagers and all you do for them," Alexis said.
"I love helping them. They're like my family. I want you to believe me when I tell you those villagers will protect us with their lives. Are you girls homesick?"
As one, the young women said, "No!"
Myra sat down next to Nikki and reached for her lotion. "I'm so glad. Charles, Annie and I have been worried that you might want to go back and . . . and face the music."
Always the most verbal of the group, Kathryn said, "Not in this lifetime. I do miss my truck at times. On the other hand, think about it, what's to miss? You're all here. I have Murphy," she said, patting the German Shepherd that was always at her side. "Plus, the eats are great!" Kathryn was a lover of all food; fine food, bad food, any kind of food.
"Where are the boys?" Myra asked.
"Playing with the catamaran," Nikki answered. "They wanted to check out the speedboats and the Jet Skis. Jack volunteered to keep everything in shape. He likes Fernando, the young guy in charge of the upkeep of all the watercraft. He'll be going off to university in Madrid in the fall, so Jack asked him to teach him about boats. He's loving the experience. Harry is... what he's doing is outfitting the boats with a few special devices. They can hardly wait for those cigarette boats to be delivered." Nikki beamed as she peered over the top of her sunglasses.
Annie leaned back in her patio chair. "That was Charles's idea. He said a cigarette boat can outrun any boat except another cigarette boat. Drug runners use them all the time and the authorities never seem to catch them. Fernando is going to teach all of you how to operate the boats. He's a wonderful young man and he grew up on the water."
"So, girls, what's on your agenda for the rest of the day?" Myra asked.
Myra Rutledge, heiress to a Fortune 500 candy company, had formed the Sisterhood a few years ago, back in the States, with the help of her adopted daughter, Nikki Quinn, after her own daughter, Barbara, was killed by a drunken driver with diplomatic immunity.
Myra had thrown caution to the wind and enlisted Charles Martin's help in finding ways to help women who had fallen through the cracks of the justice system. Charles, an ex-MI6 operative in service to Her Majesty, the Queen of England, had gone to the United States to head up security for Myra's company many years ago.
In their youth, Myra, on a trip to England with her family, met and fell in love with Charles. But duty called and Charles went on assignment, and so Myra returned to the States...carrying a baby in her womb. What with the world as uncertain as it was at the time, the lovers lost contact. Decades later Charles showed up at Myra's corporate offices in Virginia and they fell in love all over again.
Given his vast covert knowledge, his many contacts in the spy arena throughout the world and his political savvy, Charles was able to make the underground organization of the Sisterhood run like clockwork. Long ago, the sisters had ceased to question his methods, knowing only that if they followed his orders to the letter, things would work out the way he planned. Among themselves they continually said, "Charles can do anything." And they believed it.
Myra had once told them, in secrecy, that Charles often called a friend--in the middle of the night, stateside time, early-morning time in England-- and referred to the person on the other end of the line as Lizzie. As in Queen Lizzie. That alone had been enough to convince the sisters that Charles was invincible.
They knew they were breaking the law but they didn't look at it that way. If justice wasn't served the first time around, then the second time around they served up the justice, Sisterhood-style. They'd done that seven times--seven missions, one for each of them, before the authorities closed in on them. Now they were fugitives from justice with a bounty on their heads. But, in the proverbial nick of time and with exquisite planning, Charles had whisked them away to this mountain hideaway in Spain where they were afforded sanctuary.
Now, Charles had a plan.