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Target Lock on Love E-Book

M. L. Buchman

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Herausgeber: Buchman Bookworks, Inc.
Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
Sprache: Englisch
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

-a Night Stalkers 5E romance- The Night Stalkers 5E (5th Battalion, E Company) flies again, going where no one else can venture. NAME: Patty O’Donoghue RANK: Chief Warrant 3 MISSION: To rise above her past NAME: Mick Quinn RANK: Lieutenant MISSION: To honor his past Patty O’Donoghue left her life on Gloucester fishing boats to fly helicopters with the Night Stalkers. The one thing she’s never caught before? Her match. Mick Quinn left his family’s Alaskan crabbing fleet to join the very best fleet he could find. When they team up with 5th Battalion E Company, they fly where the U.S. military can never admit to. Their dangerous targets lie beyond the edge of policy. Out past that edge, they’ll both find the Target Lock on Love!

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Praise for the Night Stalkers series:

“Top 10 Romance of 2012.” – Booklist, The Night Is Mine

“Top 5 Romance of 2012.” –NPR, I Own the Dawn

“Suzanne Brockmann fans will love this.”–Booklist, Wait Until Dark

“Best 5 Romance of 2013.” –Barnes & Noble, Take Over at Midnight

“Nominee for Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense of 2014.”–RT Book Reviews, Light Up the Night

“Score 5 – Reviewer Top Pick – Buchman writes with unusual sensitivity and delicacy for such a hard-edged genre.”–Publishers Weekly, Bring On the Dusk

The Night Stalkers 5E

TargetLock on Love

byM. L. Buchman

Chapter 1

As the Little Bird helicopter bucked its way through the early October storm, Lieutenant Mick “The Mighty Dozer” Quinn wasn’t too worried; it wasn’t that much of a storm. Especially not by Gulf of Alaska standards. But it did think that slapping their helicopter, the Linda, about the sky was good sport and that was making him work for it.

Thirty, twenty, and two.

Thirty-knot winds—thirty-five miles-an-hour to landlubbers. Twenty-foot waves—not even enough to slow down his family’s commercial crabbing operation. And two miles visibility—if it hadn’t been the middle of the night. The storm they were flying into would soon cut that to thirty, twenty, and a hundred yards. As usual, the Aleutian Islands were wrapped in crappy weather and ice cold water that always found a way down the back of your neck. He didn’t miss that, but he still missed working on the family boat sometimes.

“This is nuts! Like way worse than even cashews.”

The storm was, however, pissing off his copilot. Ready to take on Mother Nature womano-a-womano, Patty O’Donoghue snarled at her opponent through the windscreen. Patty was always on the attack and she’d be immensely irritating if she wasn’t so funny about it. And so damned competent.

“It’s—squall line in a hundred yards—doing this just to spite us,” she fed him critical information slipstreamed right in with her grousing.

They worked closely together, very closely. Their AH-6M attack helicopter was the smallest manned rotorcraft in the US military’s arsenal. It fit just two people, and it was a good thing that Patty wasn’t as wide shouldered as he was or they’d be crammed in the tiny helo’s side-by-side seats. Though she wasn’t a slip of a thing either; just right, he supposed, for a sassy, kick-butts-now-and-take-names-later soldier.

The rear seat could have held two more people. Except the Linda was the attack version of the Little Bird—which was why he’d named her for Linda Hamilton in Terminator II. The back seat had been replaced by large ammunition cans with feed belts running out to the guns mounted to either side of the fuselage. Just like Sarah Connor, their helicopter was trim and dangerous as all hell.

“It isn’t nuts. I used to work on the Alaskan crab boats,” Mick nodded down at the roiling sea just fifty feet below them. “My family’s probably out there working right now.”

“Big whoop, Quinn. I worked the boats on the Grand Banks outta Gloucester.” Then she laughed, “No wonder”—it came out one-de; her accent always cracked him up—“we went Ah-mee. Still say this hee-ah mission is nuts.” The accent that JFK imitators had turned into a national joke was apparently still alive and well in Patty’s corner of the country.

The reasons he’d gone Army had nothing to do with the sea. Or maybe everything to do with the sea, but not in the way Patty meant.

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