Amey Zeigler
wrote her first mystery with her best friend in fourth grade. She wrote, the
friend illustrated. It also had a cute boy in it with spiky hair (because that
was the style back then). Not much has changed. She loves mysteries. She loves
romance. She loves suspense. She loves action, adventure and comedy. But she
wants it to have a happy ending.
Because she grew
up moving all around the United States, Amey loves writing about different
places. In her books, she explores the whole world.
Growing up, Amey
was always trying new things. She played violin, drums, flute, piano, all
before she was sixteen. She also discovered she didn't have much talent for music.
When people asked
her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she was afraid to tell them she
wanted to be a writer because she didn't know how to write.
She is so
grateful for her Sophomore year Honor's English teacher who gave her a star and
five points (out of five!) for Voice on her personal essay. Otherwise, she
wouldn't have had enough courage to pursue writing.
Connect with the Author here:
Twenty-three
year-old investigative journalist, Andy Miller is armed with her many disguises
and creativity to take down the riff-raff of Saint Louis. When her stepbrother
is murdered by the mob, Andy soon discovers she’s out of her depth.
Enter Hugh
Donaldson who has reasons of his own for discovering the murderer. He’ll use
everything in his power to achieve that, including lying to Andy about his
past. Dangerous as he is attractive, his martial arts skills and his quirky
ways raise Andy’s suspicions.
Although Andy
balks at his lies, Hugh’s charms, twenty-inch biceps, and electrifying blue
eyes are difficult to resist. Striking out on their own, Hugh and Andy try to
outwit each other as they traverse North America tracking down people connected
to the case.
As clues
disappear and the body count climbs, Andy and Hugh must trust each other and
use their combined skills to bring the murderer to justice.
~ Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~
Snippet:
Andy’s eyes blazed with fiery light.
Her voice transformed into a growl. “I work alone. I don’t need back up. I
don’t need you. Brad”—the name choked in her throat as she said it—“asked me to
help him. I am doing it for him. He didn’t ask you and certainly not the FBI.
If it is indeed the FBI you work for.”
“Andy.” Maybe he’d said too much.
“Lies, lies, lies. All men lie.”
He didn’t want to hurt her. Then
again, maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to take her down a notch. “And so do
women.” A shiver shot through her. But he couldn’t stop. “You should let us
handle it. Leave, go someplace safe. Just give me the entry code so we retrieve
the jump drive. If not, you might get hurt.”
Her eyes flattened to little slits.
“Are you threatening me?”
“What? No.”
Tyler stepped forward. Andy slipped
her hand into her bag, whipping out a Sig Sauer. Tyler scoffed.
Andy aimed the gun straight at him,
picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Goodbye Hugh or Tyler. Nice
knowing you.”
He couldn’t let her leave. Not now.
And quite frankly using the gun pissed him off.
He stepped closer. “What if I don’t
let you go. You’re going to shoot me? And then what?”
Andy held her steely gaze. Beautiful
rage.
“Can’t you understand?” he asked,
growing impatient. “It’s naïve to think you can waltz in there with a few
disguises and a bag full of tricks and be invincible.” As soon as he said it,
he instantly regretted it. He might have gone too far. Whatever cool Andy had
been harboring just blew away. Anger, shock, a full flush covered her face. She
headed again toward the door. His arm flew out to stop her. Her gun raised
again. They were close now. Close enough he could breathe her scent.
“You want to spar again?” she asked,
anger flashing in her eyes, her face inches from his. He had to admit, it
turned him on. A feisty, fiery girl—just how he liked them. “This time, it
won’t end the same as the last.”
He didn’t want to have to do this, but
it might be the only way she’d listen to him. He seized her gun hand, twisted
it around, wresting away the gun, dropping it to the mat. He kicked it away and
pinned her in a joint lock against the door with his body.
She kicked, she elbow-jabbed, but he
was relentless. Sheer muscle and weight gave him the advantage, all combined
against her. “I’m not saying you can’t do it, but I’m saying leave it to the
professionals or join with us. Don’t try to do this alone. Brad would want you
to be safe.” He had to invoke his name. He had to evoke whatever emotional sway
Brad had over her. Her gaze scorched him with burning intensity, her chest
heaving into his with such passion. Conner was a fool to have let such a
creature go.
“Let go of me.” She scrambled around
powerless against his strength.
“Are you still resisting?” He bent his
head to whisper in her ear, his face lost its kindness. “If you work alone,
then I will use you as bait. You will go bumbling around in the dark and I will
capitalize on your bumbling and stumbling. I will get what I want. With or
without you.”
Andy finally relaxed her body. Tyler
hated taking the spirit out of her. But it was the only way to keep her from
getting killed.
“Okay, I concede,” she said. He smiled
inwardly, the rush of victory, conquering a well-matched foe.
“I knew I could persuade you.”
Her smile warmed him, he released his
body from hers. In a flash, her leg flew up and hit him square in the nads, she
then opened the door behind her, and slipped out by saying, “Brad asked me to
do this. So I will do this.”
Through the purple haze of pain, he
called out, “Where will you go Andy Baker?” The front door opened. “They’re
hunting you,” he called.
The door slammed shut again. He smiled
despite the throbbing. He liked her.
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