Teacher Isabelle Carson is grief-stricken, angry, and scared. Three of her childhood friends have died. The police say they're suicides, but Isabelle knows they would never, ever take their own lives. Her past binds her to every victim, and she knows it's only a matter of time before the killer comes after her. Only one man can help her now, the only man she's ever trusted, the man who saved her so long ago...
For Grant Kent, Delta Force vet, just being near Isabelle brings back old memories and desires, and stirs longings he'd rather deny. Yet he can't ignore the real terror in her eyes, or resist the thought of holding her again. But even as their friendship begins to blossom into a passionate affair, a killer continues his deadly rampage and plots his next move: the "suicide" of Isabelle Carson.
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1 . Good Trilogy
Posted August 01, 2011 by reader enthusiast , atlantic areaEnjoyed the series; however felt this book was the weakest of the three. Hard to believe the "brotherhood" that was strongly emphasized in the first book was non existent in this book. Where were his buddies when they needed him.
Anyway...did enjoy the book but I felt the first book was the definitely the strongest.
September 29, 2008
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Excerpt from No Escape by Shannon K. Butcher
Things have been a little . . . weird here lately. Watch your back, okay?"
Grant Kent always did--it's how he'd survived nearly a decade in Delta Force--but in the week since hearing Isabelle's odd message, he hadn't been able to get those words out of his head. Nor had he been able to forget the way her voice shook when she spoke them.
It was the first time she'd ever called him, and it hadn't been to catch up on old times. Something was wrong, and Grant had driven three hundred miles out of his way to find out what it was.
His Mustang slid through the quiet residential streets as he searched for the right house. He only hoped that the return address on the Christmas card she'd sent him last year was still good.
It didn't matter that he was starting a new job tomorrow and had to be in Denver by morning. Nor did it matter that he hadn't seen Isabelle in fourteen years. What mattered was Isabelle had called him, and although she hadn't asked him to come, there was something about the slight vibration of fear in her voice that made everything else seem unimportant.
So, here he was, in Springfield, Missouri--the home of bad memories--where he promised himself he'd never go again. All because little Isabelle Carson was afraid and Grant couldn't let that stand.
He figured he had about two hours to find out what was freaking her out, fix it, and get back on the highway if he was still going to be sitting at David Wolfe's breakfast table by morning.
Anticipation rolled through him and settled in his chest, making him grin like a fool. After fourteen years in the military, he was out for good now. He could hardly wait to see his friends again and start his new life.
Grant Kent, security consultant. It had a nice ring.
He turned the corner onto Isabelle's street and found the right house number. The place was old, but well maintained and way too big for one person. Even in the dark, he could see the bright white paint glowing under the porch light. The landscape was tidy, the trees pruned, and even the winter-dead grass managed to look manicured.
Grant pulled into the driveway, hoping this was the right place. She hadn't left an address in her message, and he was afraid that if he'd called to ask for one, he would have regretted it.
They hadn't exactly parted under the best of circumstances, and Grant wasn't going to make it easy on her to push him away, not while there was any chance she was in trouble.
He got out of his car and stretched to ease the tightness in his back. As much as he loved his Mustang, it wasn't really made for his tall frame, and he hadn't taken much time to stop and stretch along the drive. He'd been too anxious to get here and have this over with.
Of course, now that he was here, he was seriously reconsidering the wisdom of his decision. He had no idea what he was getting into here, or even if she'd want to see him after so many years.
A cold March wind whipped around his body as he headed for the front door on reluctant feet.
The last time he'd seen Isabelle, she'd been sixteen, sitting in the back of an ambulance hugging her knees. Tears had been streaming down her face as she'd watched the police drive away, with him handcuffed in the back seat of the patrol car.
He wasn't exactly looking forward to their reunion, but he was man enough to reach out and push the lighted doorbell.
Pleasant chimes filtered through the leaded glass at the top of the door, and a moment later he saw a shadowy movement behind the window. The door opened, and it took Grant a full ten seconds to recognize her as Isabelle Carson. He'd been expecting a larger version of the sixteen-year-old, sickly child he'd last seen, with stringy hair and sallow skin stretched too tightly over frail bones. In fact, if it hadn't been for the exotic Japanese heritage accenting her American girl-next-door features, he might never have recognized her at all.
Grant had seen a lot of beautiful women, but Isabelle was simply . . . stunning.
The shock of it silenced him for a moment as he drank her in. She was tall now--easily five-nine--when before she'd only come up to his chest. Beneath her casual clothes were slim, tempting curves made to fit just right in a man's palm. Her glossy black hair hung straight down her back, but a fringe of bangs drew his attention to her eyes. They were a deep, rich green, like a forest in twilight, canted slightly at an exotic angle.
Those eyes widened, and she stood there in shocked silence, staring at him.
Grant stilled, giving her a moment to adjust to the surprise. He wasn't sure how much he'd changed since she'd last seen him at seventeen, and he found himself holding his breath, hoping she wouldn't slam the door in his face.
Grant's knuckles ached from clenching his fists too tightly. Not a good sign at all for the man who was used to controlling his body rather than the other way around.