AVAILABLE only on Amazon! |
AVAILABLE only on Amazon!
People who have read advanced review copies of Precious Cargo, my first romantic suspense, have repeated the same sentiments to me. The first is – WOW! You must have done some serious research about Ukraine and its relationship with Russia. Yes. I did. I have a degree in History. I love doing research.
The second is – This book was intense, the
action scenes were so well written I felt like I was watching a movie in my
head, and parts of the story made me laugh. My response?
FANTASTIC! That’s exactly what I wanted as I wrote the story. I can’t
tell you how much I love hearing people laugh out loud when they read one of my
stories.
The third and final remark is – The story ended
too quickly. I loved the
characters and wanted more. This
is a much harder comment to respond to.
Here are some things that comes to mind when I hear this. I’m so freaking delighted to hear that
someone wants more story. To me,
that means they really did like the
story, as well as the characters. I know I’ve read stories where I didn’t want
the book to end, and the book was about 400 pages long. (Any Diana Gabaldon fans here?) But, take heart. If you read Precious Cargo, you love
the characters too and would like more story, then please, please, please let
me know. If I have enough
feedback, I’ll add a sequel book to Precious Cargo with Mila and Duke. Pinky swear. How does the title Dangerous Cargo sound to you? You can write me at Brenna.Zinn@gmail.com.
Trust me. I’ll read your
message and will write you back. I
promise a sequel if I hear from readers.
In the meantime, let me share a bit of Precious Cargo with you. I hope you like it as much as I loved
writing it.
Precious Cargo Blurb
Master Sergeant Duke Gunnison sucks at retirement. He has no
intention of turning in his combat boots for golf shoes. His former life in
Special Ops, where he protected innocents and fought dangerous enemies,
provided the rush he continually craved. Without the constant missions to feed
his adrenaline addiction, he’s lost his sense of purpose and he struggles to
find meaning in his new life—until he gets a life changing phone call.
Grey Holden, a founder of the prestigious private security
agency The Omega Team, offers Duke a chance at a second life doing what he was
born to do—a special op to safeguard the daughter of an important Ukrainian
diplomat. But Mila Bartosh is not only a special envoy’s daughter, sent to
accompany her father as he negotiates the removal of troops in eastern Ukraine.
She’s on a secret mission of her own—to exact revenge on a powerful Russian mob
boss, guilty of unspeakable crimes.
Mila is determined to help protect
her father and accomplish her treacherous undertaking at all costs. But as her
tasks become more complex, she unexpectedly reunites with the man who stole her
heart and then vanished into the night, never to be heard from again, until
now. Her love’em and leave’em paramour is none other than her new American
bodyguard Duke Gunnison. With innocent lives on the line, can she carry out her
missions while avenging her broken heart?
Precious Cargo Excerpt
As far as European
hotels went, the Grand Lutsk Hotel was near the top of the marks with its
classy decorations, spa and guest services. The air conditioning was a definite
plus. The majority of places Duke had ever stayed in boasted “rustic”
accommodations, which generally meant the hot air outside was cooler than one
could expect inside. Having grown up in the swamps of Louisiana, and then
soldiering most of his life, sleeping in AC and on anything but the ground or a
stained, second-hand mattress felt fairly high-class.
He’d barely
settled in and managed a quick shower before his first scheduled meeting with
Yure Bartosh. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had time to get a haircut or do more
than stuff a bag full of washed clothes before jetting off for Ukraine. Now, as
Duke rubbed the stubble on his chin and stared at his reflection in his suite’s
swanky bathroom—what self-respecting man used a bidet, for Christ’s sake?—he
had to admit he looked a little rough around the edges.
His hair was
long enough to brush his shoulders, and its dirty-blond coloring had lightened
from his many days fishing and combing the beach. The nicest outfit he’d
packed—and currently wore—was a Western shirt, a pair of faded jeans and his
snakeskin boots. Had his brother returned the one and only suit Duke owned, he
would have brought that along too. But one simply couldn’t pack what one didn’t
possess or have time to buy.
All in all,
he could easily be mistaken for an American bum.
The thought
made him grin.
No harm in
being considered a bum. People didn’t expect much from that lot, especially in
Europe, which worked in his favor. Anyone seeing him around would think he was
an easy target. The men he needed to watch for would come out of the woodwork
and try to take him on. Then they’d be in for a big surprise. The same thing
had happened when he was a kid, and again when he’d joined the Army. This side
job wouldn’t be any different.
The rush out
the door and onto a plane, plus three sleeping pills, had also meant he
couldn’t dwell on the fact he’d be playing bodyguard to Mila Bartosh. Jesus.
Having her pop back into his life felt a little like karma giving him a swift
kick in the ass. Their coming together again would no doubt top the charts for
awkward reunions. He’d be lucky if the feisty woman didn’t haul off and try to
shoot him with his own gun. Well, the Ukrainian government’s gun. Europeans
didn’t take too kindly to folks flying in with weapons.
Someone
knocked on the door, followed by a muffled, “Mr. Gunnison, Mr. Bartosh will see
you now.”
The words
were spoken in Ukrainian with a notable Eastern dialect.
“Here goes
nothing,” Duke said to his reflection. “It’s your first day on the job. Let’s
try not to piss anyone off, get shot or blow anything up. What do ya say?”
A tall man
in a dark suit led him to the top floor of the hotel. They passed several more
men in matching dark suits flanking the hallway and stopped outside a set of
wide double doors. Plenty of time to get his pulse in check before seeing Mila.
He was former Special Ops and here to do a job, not some angsty teenager
dealing with an angry date he’d left at the prom.
His escort
gave him the onceover before knocking. Duke hadn’t missed the man’s disdainful
smirk.
“We all look
like this in the states. Part of our dress code. You’d look like an idiot
there.” Duke spoke in English, not
caring if the man understood. If this guy and the rest of the security detail
were doing a bang-up job in the first place, he’d still be catching fish in the
Gulf of Mexico rather than babysitting their boss’s daughter or facing his
past.
Without any
acknowledgement to what he’d said, the man opened the door then closed it after
Duke walked into the room. There, an old but sizable gentleman with long gray
hair and an equally gray beard and mustache sat at the end of a table. Based on
the pics from files Grey
Holden had e-mailed, the fella was Yure Bartosh, the diplomat.
Mila’s father.
Also based
on the pics, the stiff in the suit behind Bartosh was Burton Laramie. The
other hired gun sent from The Omega Team. The way Laramie stood, ramrod
straight with his hands clasped behind his back and feet spread slightly apart,
were sure signs the guy had to be pure Boy Scout. Someone who always did the
right thing and followed the rules down to the crossed T’s. Laramie was
probably very good at his job, but he would definitely be no fun at parties.
Mila sat at
the table as well, her attention focused on a pile of papers. She didn’t look
pleased.
Duke’s mouth
went dry and his heart began to thump fast and loud in his ears. Damn if the
woman wasn’t even more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her, and he’d
seen a lot of her back then.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone.
I want to be with you.
I…I love you.
She finally
looked up and her gaze met his. She tilted her head and pursed her lips,
confused. Then her chest rose and fell as though breathing had suddenly become
an effort. Her eyes widened. Color sprang up her neck and raced to her face. In
an instant she was on her feet, smoke pouring from her ears.
“You! What
the hell are you doing here?” she growled in her native tongue.
Brenna
Zinn Bio and Links
I remember reading about
Texas in an Illinois grade school and thinking I probably would never see the
great state where real cowboys ride their horses to work every day and everyone
wears western hats and boots. Then again, I never dreamed I would elope in
Gibraltar with a Navy man who hailed from the Lone Star state. But here I am,
smack dab in the middle of Texas, still married to the same wonderful man and
boasting not only the greatest daughter on the planet, but three dogs who are
as big as long horns.
In between grade school
and now, my journey through life has taken me all over the United States, as
well as many places throughout the world. Using my travel experience as a guide
and peppering in interesting characters I’ve met along the way, I love nothing
better than weaving tales of romance and leaving readers yearning for
adventures of their own.
Follow
Brenna!
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