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THE JOURNEY TO WHITESTONE

http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/paranormal-romance/4391

 

LITERARY AGENTS–BEWARE

 http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/romantic-thriller/4392

HER HONOR’S BODYGUARD

 http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/romantic-suspense/4390

 

SCANDAL–THE DEATH OF A LEGACY

 Fhttp://askdavid.com/reviews/book/romantic-thriller/4389

 

A WAR HERO RETURNS

  http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/international-romantic-thriller/4388

 

MODELS AND LOVERS

 http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/love-story/4393

 

STALKING LOVE

 http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/romantic-thriller/4394

 

THE SALSA CONNECTION

 http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/international-romantic-thriller/4396

 

FOR LOVE AND VENGEANCE http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/international-romantic-thriller/4395

A WAR HERO RETURNS

 

After serving eight years in the army, Suzan Mercer returns from Afghanistan to Florida as a female war hero–her works as a CIA operative, of course, would always be hidden.
She couldn’t believe her mother had used a power of attorney while she was gone to sell the land her father had left her. After learning her mother also has early onset Alzheimer's and claims to have been taken advantage of by Matt Harris, the billionaire developer involved, Suzan uses her military and CIA training to plot her revenge and to reacquire her land.
Entering a world where high heels replace combat boots and deep red lipstick becomes more deadly than a colt 45, Suzan never anticipated the cost to reacquire her land would be losing her heart.
Matt also learns his money and power cannot acquire the one asset he has always lacked in his life as he ventures into untested skies without a golden parachute to save him. Also, would the ghost of his playboy image come back to haunt him?

FROM THE OPENING CHAPTER

Chapter 1

“I hate to disturb your Memorial Day cook-out, but my name is Suzan Mercer and I’m here to see Matt Harris.” Suzan brushed her long, black hair to one side to allow her a better view. The freedom to allow her hair to fall free for a change and not having to be tied in a required military style ponytail felt strange.

The security guard, a tall slim man with a deep tan thanks to the Florida sun, glanced at his pad as he stood his ground at the gate guarding the Harris Estate in West Palm Beach. “I don’t see your name on my list. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you permission to enter.”

“I didn’t ask for permission.” Suzan slammed the pedal to the floor of her red Mini Cooper, leaving him shouting at her as she squealed into a spot in front of the large entrance to the main house.

As she emerged from the car, the front gate guard ran toward her, with another uniformed guard rushing from the front of the house. “Listen, lady. You can’t do this!”

“I just did.”

Suzan watched him study her uniform. Her travel clothes were a present of the U. S. Army, her life for the last eight years. “Lady, I don’t know who you are, but I’ll ask you one more time to leave.”

Suzan turned to look at the front door as the second guard joined them. “I heard he arrived here today.”

The gate guard reached for her arm. “You need to leave.”

Suzan grabbed his hand and located the joint and tendon she wanted. With a quick twist, the guy twice her size hit the ground with both knees. “DAMN!”

The second guard rushed closer to assist his colleague squirming on the ground, until Suzan kicked her right foot at his face–stopping inches in front of his nose. “You don’t really want to do this, do you?” The shock of her shoe poised inches from his face paralyzed his movements for a second.

After regaining control, the guard’s eyes glanced at his sidearm before shifting his attention back to the other guard who was groaning on his knees. “You know you can go to jail for this,” he shouted.

“The only one going to jail is Matt Harris. I simply came by to see what he had to say in his defense.”

Suzan watched the front door behind them open and three men walk out. “What’s going on here?” A tall guy in a dark tailored suit stepped forward.

“I’m here to see Matt Harris.”

The guy motioned for the guard to back away as he offered a smug smile. “What do you want with Matt Harris?”

“I want my land back.”

“And which land are you referring to?”

“I’m referring to my land outside Ft. Myers and next to the Everglades.”

“Are you talking about the Mercer property?”

“That would be correct. I’m Suzan Mercer, the real owner of the land. I recently arrived back in the states and heard he stole my land when I was gone.”

“The Mercer property deal closed over a year ago.”

“I only heard about the sale a few days ago. Now, do I get to see Matt Harris, or do you want me to go through you three as well?”

The guy laughed. “Do you think you can go through all five of us? I know the Army has women fighting now, but come on, give me a break.”

Suzan noticed the guard on her right preparing to make a move on her. A quick kick to his knee dropped him. The guard on the ground slipped free, but a quick hand to the back of his head slammed it down on her upcoming knee. When he crumbled to the ground the remaining three men backed away.

Finally, a man stepped forward who she recognized from his photos. His rugged jaw and slim well built body, covered in a million dollar looking suit, completed the assumptions of what she had forged in her mind. His playboy reputation, which was reputed by some accounts due to his strong work ethics, confronted her. He offered the fantastic good looks of a professional model, mixed with the masculine sexy allure of the kind of man she wanted to meet one day. His charismatic appeal startled her as she stumbled in maintaining her focus on her mission.

He placed his right hand in a pocket of his trousers as he started to speak, leisurely indicating he remained in control and was not one to be rushed. “I’m Matt Harris, and I remember this purchase. You must be the daughter away in the Army. Mrs. Mercer, I think her first name was Ann, sold the property by use of a power of attorney you signed for her. It’s amazing she never told you about the sale.”

“I never approved the sale. I want the land back.”