HOWA crime scene photo gone viral. A fanboy turned stalker. How far will one FBI agent go to protect the ones she loves?
FBI Special Agent Libby Irish thrives off the constant pressure of proving herself in a male-dominated workplace. After she busts a notorious weapons ring, she thinks she’ll finally get the respect she deserves. When a photo of her curvy figure in front of the guns goes viral, the media frenzy that follows only makes her the laughing stock of her division. Between unwanted fan mail, a feral cat attack, and the flashing cameras, she almost doesn't notice that someone has been rearranging small items in her house. Her first suspicions fall on her drop-dead-gorgeous neighbor who regrettably seems to be missing a few screws. But when tragedy strikes next door and her neighbor offers to help her track down the stalker, she discovers a whole new side to him she never expected. As Libby's stalker grows bolder, the pair must work together to catch him before his game of cat and mouse takes a deadly turn. How is the third standalone book in a high-octane series of psychological suspense thrillers. If you like strong female leads, shocking twists, and a dash of romance, then you’ll love Megan Mitcham’s tale of passion and madness. Buy How to pounce on a fast-paced, fiery thriller soon! |
ISBN ebook: 978-1-941899-39-7
ISBN print: 978-1-941899-40-3
Released: April 8, 2020
Length: 352 pages
ISBN print: 978-1-941899-40-3
Released: April 8, 2020
Length: 352 pages
Excerpt
“Ready to go home?” she asked Killer.
Obstinately, the cat cruised to her chair, hopped up, and curled himself on the warm cushion.
She released the door and folded her arms. Her neighbor was done screwing for the night, so she could go get him, or she could leave Killer out here. He’d been fed. It wouldn’t be a problem to leave her water glass out for the night. The cat knew how to use it.
Quiet steps drew her gaze to the bottom of the stairs.
Not even close to fair.
Libby wanted to tell the universe to go fuck itself because this was more than she could handle. She swallowed and stared at her half-naked neighbor. Sleek and sinuous traps sloped from his neck and spread wide to shoulders she could make a meal of, and dessert too. Large slabs of muscle covered his chest like lean shields. His stomach.
Whew!
She could ride his abs to orgasm in less than eight seconds. Libby licked her lips and let her gaze drop. Black sweatpants hung low, revealing every godlike arch and groove of his hips. Even his feet were hot, bare and sexy. Never before had she thought of feet as sexy. Especially not on a man.
He stood there on her bottom step, looking good enough to eat and not saying a damn word.
His gaze raked up her bare legs to her shorty shorts. Those dark angel eyes narrowed on the points of her nipples that tented her spaghetti strap top. He studied her shoulders, neck, and face, taking his time and looking his fill of her.
Her heartbeat spiked. Heat flooded her chest and poured lower still.
They stood staring for moments too long. If she opened the screen, would he come inside? If she walked into her house, would he follow?Would she screw a man who’d just finished with another woman?
Libby knew if the first two answers were yes, then the third one would be the same.
His gaze finally broke, shifting toward the cat.
“Oh, yeah.” She was a horny moron. A hot breath blew between her lips as she turned and headed for Killer.
She reached for the cat before her brain engaged.
Killer swiped without warning. Libby jerked back but not before his nails dragged across the inside of her wrist.
The screen door creaked.
“Son of a …” Libby stepped back and clamped her hand over it. “I thought we were friends now.” She gawked at the cat who hadn’t moved more than was necessary to murder her with one well-placed swipe. When she removed her hand, blood seeped from the long, angry cut, pooling at one jagged end.
Libby backed toward her door. She needed a towel or something. Her shoulder blades hit solid heat, causing her to jump forward and spin.
Her neighbor stood inside her porch, so close. His gaze zeroed in on her arm.
She pulled it close to her body. No way did she want him to touch her. If he did, she’d make a bigger ass of herself. The scent of sex and sweat wafted off him. She should be revolted, but holy hell. Her nostrils flared.
“It’s … fine.” She promised.
His brow hiked.
“Seriously, it’s just a scratch.” Libby nodded to the cat.
He stared at her.
Libby’s breath caught.
Then he turned and scooped Killer off the chair with one hand. The damn cat hung like a long clump of putty. Her neighbor pressed the cat to his chest, and the wild thing nuzzled him as though he were the tamest creature on Earth.
She couldn’t blame the cat.
Her neighbor’s gaze raked her one more sultry time, and then he turned to leave. A white, raised scar ran damn near the length of his spine. It was well hidden between the two slabs of his back strap, but it was there all the same.
Libby lifted her hand from her scratch. Suddenly, the diagonal slash that ran from one side of her wrist to the other didn’t seem like anything at all.
______
A crowd spilled out the break room door and congealed in the hallway, stopping her progress. The only time that happened was when someone brought in goodies for a birthday or a retirement, but that sort of thing never interested her. The crowded sharing of food actually made her stomach shiver. All the germs.
“No!” The anger-brimming tone grabbed her attention by the collar. “Give me that!”
Libby knew the voice that bled out from the room. Though she’d never heard it in quite a demanding state.
Alec?
In the two years they’d been across the hall from one another, she hadn’t known the mild-mannered guy capable of raising his voice.
Libby shoved through the crowd. Her pack did the job of spreading the masses.
“It’s her,” someone whisper-screamed from over her shoulder.
A guy she recognized from one hallway over looked at her, and his eyes bugged out of his face. He backpedaled, skirted the doorframe, and practically ran away. Why was the biggest brownnoser on the staff running from her?
When his large, should-be-decaying nose moved from in front of the door, Libby saw it hanging from eye level by a one-inch piece of clear tape.
If only the picture wasn’t so clear.
But it was.
As pictures went, it was a pretty damn good one. The way she’d been captured walking from the goat path in the shipping container with one foot in front of the other accentuated the curve of her hips. Long rifles in each hand and the ones in the crook of her arm elongated her waist. The black shirt tucked into her jeans drew attention to her full breasts. The FBI hat shielded her gaze, giving her the appearance of bedroom eyes. Her long ponytail cascaded over her left shoulder just so.
As pictures went, it would have been a nice one to press into a photo album and look back at twenty years down the road.
As pictures went, it would have been awesome to have proof that she’d taken down an anarchist for the FBI to protect the innocent people of this amazing country.
As pictures went, it was not the one you wanted printed off and hung on the break room door. You especially didn’t want the words scribbled on each page in black permanent marker displayed for your co-workers to see.
THE BIG BUST
Even as she stood on the threshold of the meanest prank anyone had ever pulled on her, a group of men shouldered Alec out of the circle while they pointed and laughed at her figure like schoolyard bullies.
Alec held a stack in his hand and tried his best to wedge between them and get to the humiliating display.
Libby reeled in the instinct to pull her weapon and shoot off every knuckle in the room, save for Alec’s. She blocked the even greater one that had her running from the room and hiding under her desk inside her office for the rest of her life.
“Raise your hand if you’d like a sexual harassment lawsuit brought against you by my attorney? For better or worse, she never loses.” Libby let her voice fill the room.
One by one, the horrified gazes found hers. One by one, the crowd filtered past her out of the break room.
She shifted, blocking the exit for the trio of pig-headed assholes who’d been bullying her friend, the one man standing up for her.
“Chill out,” the tallest one demanded.
“Yeah, it was a joke,” his slightly shorter friend added.
The other one had the presence of mind to keep his damn mouth shut.
“Chill?” Libby smiled at the tall one. “I’m as chilled as the bottle of vodka you keep in your mini-fridge, David.” She turned her sweet expression on the next one and pointed at the remaining pictures Alec had hurriedly tore from the cabinets. “This joke is as hilarious as your attempt to date Larkin Ashford last year.”
Both men gritted their teeth.
“Now, fellas, if you wouldn’t mind doing the world a favor. Choke on your breakfast.” She stepped out of the way and ushered them out of the now empty room with a flourish of her hand. “Goodbye.”
They left, pressing their heads together and chattering like angry schoolgirls.
Alec pulled the last two pictures from the refrigerator and then the entrance. His head shook and his chest puffed, not in posture but in pure anger. It poured off him in waves.
“Are you okay?” Libby asked.
“Me?” His mouth dropped open, and his brows shot high, which seemed to take the edge off his quiet rage. He punched the thick stack of pictures he held. “Are you okay? Those guys—”
“F*** those guys. And f*** whoever did this.” Libby pulled the stack of pictures from his hand and tossed them into the large trash receptacle. Then she yanked open the fridge, grabbed a soda, and popped the top. She poured half the contents atop the pictures and then replaced the lid. “Want a drink?”
“Whose was that?” Alec’s Adam’s apple worked.
“No idea.”
“Shouldn’t we replace it?”
The irritation that swelled inside her chest burst into a full laugh. She swung the flavored drink she knew he enjoyed in front of him. “Live on the edge, Alec.”
“I was.” He pointed at the place where he’d had the minor run-in with guys. “Did you see me? I shoved those guys.”
“Nudged.”
“It was a shove,” he protested.
“Whatever you say.” She grinned and motioned him forward. “Come on. We’ve wasted too much time on stupidity this morning. I have a ton of work to do.”
Obstinately, the cat cruised to her chair, hopped up, and curled himself on the warm cushion.
She released the door and folded her arms. Her neighbor was done screwing for the night, so she could go get him, or she could leave Killer out here. He’d been fed. It wouldn’t be a problem to leave her water glass out for the night. The cat knew how to use it.
Quiet steps drew her gaze to the bottom of the stairs.
Not even close to fair.
Libby wanted to tell the universe to go fuck itself because this was more than she could handle. She swallowed and stared at her half-naked neighbor. Sleek and sinuous traps sloped from his neck and spread wide to shoulders she could make a meal of, and dessert too. Large slabs of muscle covered his chest like lean shields. His stomach.
Whew!
She could ride his abs to orgasm in less than eight seconds. Libby licked her lips and let her gaze drop. Black sweatpants hung low, revealing every godlike arch and groove of his hips. Even his feet were hot, bare and sexy. Never before had she thought of feet as sexy. Especially not on a man.
He stood there on her bottom step, looking good enough to eat and not saying a damn word.
His gaze raked up her bare legs to her shorty shorts. Those dark angel eyes narrowed on the points of her nipples that tented her spaghetti strap top. He studied her shoulders, neck, and face, taking his time and looking his fill of her.
Her heartbeat spiked. Heat flooded her chest and poured lower still.
They stood staring for moments too long. If she opened the screen, would he come inside? If she walked into her house, would he follow?Would she screw a man who’d just finished with another woman?
Libby knew if the first two answers were yes, then the third one would be the same.
His gaze finally broke, shifting toward the cat.
“Oh, yeah.” She was a horny moron. A hot breath blew between her lips as she turned and headed for Killer.
She reached for the cat before her brain engaged.
Killer swiped without warning. Libby jerked back but not before his nails dragged across the inside of her wrist.
The screen door creaked.
“Son of a …” Libby stepped back and clamped her hand over it. “I thought we were friends now.” She gawked at the cat who hadn’t moved more than was necessary to murder her with one well-placed swipe. When she removed her hand, blood seeped from the long, angry cut, pooling at one jagged end.
Libby backed toward her door. She needed a towel or something. Her shoulder blades hit solid heat, causing her to jump forward and spin.
Her neighbor stood inside her porch, so close. His gaze zeroed in on her arm.
She pulled it close to her body. No way did she want him to touch her. If he did, she’d make a bigger ass of herself. The scent of sex and sweat wafted off him. She should be revolted, but holy hell. Her nostrils flared.
“It’s … fine.” She promised.
His brow hiked.
“Seriously, it’s just a scratch.” Libby nodded to the cat.
He stared at her.
Libby’s breath caught.
Then he turned and scooped Killer off the chair with one hand. The damn cat hung like a long clump of putty. Her neighbor pressed the cat to his chest, and the wild thing nuzzled him as though he were the tamest creature on Earth.
She couldn’t blame the cat.
Her neighbor’s gaze raked her one more sultry time, and then he turned to leave. A white, raised scar ran damn near the length of his spine. It was well hidden between the two slabs of his back strap, but it was there all the same.
Libby lifted her hand from her scratch. Suddenly, the diagonal slash that ran from one side of her wrist to the other didn’t seem like anything at all.
______
A crowd spilled out the break room door and congealed in the hallway, stopping her progress. The only time that happened was when someone brought in goodies for a birthday or a retirement, but that sort of thing never interested her. The crowded sharing of food actually made her stomach shiver. All the germs.
“No!” The anger-brimming tone grabbed her attention by the collar. “Give me that!”
Libby knew the voice that bled out from the room. Though she’d never heard it in quite a demanding state.
Alec?
In the two years they’d been across the hall from one another, she hadn’t known the mild-mannered guy capable of raising his voice.
Libby shoved through the crowd. Her pack did the job of spreading the masses.
“It’s her,” someone whisper-screamed from over her shoulder.
A guy she recognized from one hallway over looked at her, and his eyes bugged out of his face. He backpedaled, skirted the doorframe, and practically ran away. Why was the biggest brownnoser on the staff running from her?
When his large, should-be-decaying nose moved from in front of the door, Libby saw it hanging from eye level by a one-inch piece of clear tape.
If only the picture wasn’t so clear.
But it was.
As pictures went, it was a pretty damn good one. The way she’d been captured walking from the goat path in the shipping container with one foot in front of the other accentuated the curve of her hips. Long rifles in each hand and the ones in the crook of her arm elongated her waist. The black shirt tucked into her jeans drew attention to her full breasts. The FBI hat shielded her gaze, giving her the appearance of bedroom eyes. Her long ponytail cascaded over her left shoulder just so.
As pictures went, it would have been a nice one to press into a photo album and look back at twenty years down the road.
As pictures went, it would have been awesome to have proof that she’d taken down an anarchist for the FBI to protect the innocent people of this amazing country.
As pictures went, it was not the one you wanted printed off and hung on the break room door. You especially didn’t want the words scribbled on each page in black permanent marker displayed for your co-workers to see.
THE BIG BUST
Even as she stood on the threshold of the meanest prank anyone had ever pulled on her, a group of men shouldered Alec out of the circle while they pointed and laughed at her figure like schoolyard bullies.
Alec held a stack in his hand and tried his best to wedge between them and get to the humiliating display.
Libby reeled in the instinct to pull her weapon and shoot off every knuckle in the room, save for Alec’s. She blocked the even greater one that had her running from the room and hiding under her desk inside her office for the rest of her life.
“Raise your hand if you’d like a sexual harassment lawsuit brought against you by my attorney? For better or worse, she never loses.” Libby let her voice fill the room.
One by one, the horrified gazes found hers. One by one, the crowd filtered past her out of the break room.
She shifted, blocking the exit for the trio of pig-headed assholes who’d been bullying her friend, the one man standing up for her.
“Chill out,” the tallest one demanded.
“Yeah, it was a joke,” his slightly shorter friend added.
The other one had the presence of mind to keep his damn mouth shut.
“Chill?” Libby smiled at the tall one. “I’m as chilled as the bottle of vodka you keep in your mini-fridge, David.” She turned her sweet expression on the next one and pointed at the remaining pictures Alec had hurriedly tore from the cabinets. “This joke is as hilarious as your attempt to date Larkin Ashford last year.”
Both men gritted their teeth.
“Now, fellas, if you wouldn’t mind doing the world a favor. Choke on your breakfast.” She stepped out of the way and ushered them out of the now empty room with a flourish of her hand. “Goodbye.”
They left, pressing their heads together and chattering like angry schoolgirls.
Alec pulled the last two pictures from the refrigerator and then the entrance. His head shook and his chest puffed, not in posture but in pure anger. It poured off him in waves.
“Are you okay?” Libby asked.
“Me?” His mouth dropped open, and his brows shot high, which seemed to take the edge off his quiet rage. He punched the thick stack of pictures he held. “Are you okay? Those guys—”
“F*** those guys. And f*** whoever did this.” Libby pulled the stack of pictures from his hand and tossed them into the large trash receptacle. Then she yanked open the fridge, grabbed a soda, and popped the top. She poured half the contents atop the pictures and then replaced the lid. “Want a drink?”
“Whose was that?” Alec’s Adam’s apple worked.
“No idea.”
“Shouldn’t we replace it?”
The irritation that swelled inside her chest burst into a full laugh. She swung the flavored drink she knew he enjoyed in front of him. “Live on the edge, Alec.”
“I was.” He pointed at the place where he’d had the minor run-in with guys. “Did you see me? I shoved those guys.”
“Nudged.”
“It was a shove,” he protested.
“Whatever you say.” She grinned and motioned him forward. “Come on. We’ve wasted too much time on stupidity this morning. I have a ton of work to do.”
"This one is my FAVORITE of the series! The author nailed it! The suspense killed me!"
- Lisa H., Verified Purchase
"This book is AWESOME! You’ll have to be as shocked as I am! All I’m saying is I wasn’t prepared! The author is wicked in storytelling."
- Lookloving Hypocondriac, Verified Purchase
"Suspense, action, strong women and just enough steam to make it interesting. This author is always on preorder for me. This book is one of her best."
- Nana Deb, Verified Purchase
- Lisa H., Verified Purchase
"This book is AWESOME! You’ll have to be as shocked as I am! All I’m saying is I wasn’t prepared! The author is wicked in storytelling."
- Lookloving Hypocondriac, Verified Purchase
"Suspense, action, strong women and just enough steam to make it interesting. This author is always on preorder for me. This book is one of her best."
- Nana Deb, Verified Purchase