Pitch Black – Blackwood Security #1
Even a Diamond can be shattered…
After the owner of a security company is murdered, his sharp-edged wife goes on the run. Forced to abandon everything she holds dear – her home, her friends, her job in special ops – she builds a new life for herself in England. As Ashlyn Hale, she meets Luke, a handsome local who makes her realise just how lonely she is.
Yet, even in the sleepy village of Lower Foxford, the dark side of life dogs Diamond's trail when the unthinkable strikes. Forced out of hiding, she races against time to save those she cares about. But is it too little, too late?
**WARNING**
If you want sweetness and light and all things bright,
Diamond’s not the girl for you.
She’s got sass, she's got snark, and she’s moody and dark,
As she does what a girl’s got to do.
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Also available as an audiobook!
Sample – Chapter 1
Sample – Chapter 2
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BOOK TRAILER
Excerpt – The beginning:
As I sped along the highway, the rain fell harder than the last man I shot with my faithful Walther P88.
Ahead, a fork of lightning lit up the sky, closely followed by the angry growl of thunder. I accelerated around a truck driving slowly, or as normal people would say, sensibly, and kept the pedal flat to the floor. The drive to Dulles International Airport usually took two hours, but at this rate, I’d do it in just over one. Either that or end up wrapping my car around something solid.
At that moment, I didn’t particularly care which.
A bend came up, and the back end of the car broke loose, swinging from side to side in a wild fishtail. I grappled with the steering wheel, knuckles white, and managed to keep the vehicle pointing in the right direction. My Dodge Viper didn’t like the weather any more than I did. Metallic black, with an 8.4-litre V10 engine, it looked mean and sounded meaner.
Not exactly your typical girl’s car.
But, as my husband had pointed out when he handed me the keys on my birthday, “You’re not a normal girl, Diamond.” The nickname he gave me on the night we met had stuck through the years.
Fuck, I missed him.
Soon the road evened out, and the car settled back into a more-or-less straight line. The highway was almost empty. Only long-distance truck drivers and a few desperate souls crawling along in the slow lane were crazy enough to be out in this storm. Fortunately, all the cops were most likely tucked up in their squad rooms too, munching on donuts and mainlining coffee, far too busy with the important things in life to worry about little old me, merrily barrelling along I-95 at twice the speed limit.
I flicked through the radio stations until I found one playing rock. Bon Jovi belted out “Livin’ on a Prayer,” which seemed quite appropriate given how fast I was driving.
By the time I hit the outskirts of Tysons Corner, the rain had slackened to a steady drizzle. The road was mirrored with puddles, the rippling reflections of the streetlights twinkling up at me. Just in case a stray cop was hanging around, I slowed down to somewhere near legal as I drove through the town.
I’d kept a careful eye behind me on the way there, and I was confident nobody had tailed me, especially with the speed I was driving. Even so, I made four consecutive right-hand turns to be on the safe side, doubling back on myself and driving through a residential area. Only once I was satisfied I was alone did I make my way back to the main road and continue on to the airport.
The long-term parking lot stretched out before me, and I carried on to the back. I didn’t want my vehicle to stand out, although I appreciated that was wishful thinking with the Viper. Still, it wouldn’t have to remain unspotted for long. I only needed a day or so’s head start to disappear, and I figured it would be a couple of hours before anyone even started looking for me.
I opened the minuscule trunk and climbed out to collect the leather travel bag that lived in there, then threw it on the passenger seat while I slid back into the driver’s side. Once I’d closed the door, I unzipped the outside pocket and pulled out the wallet I’d stashed there several months before.
The car’s interior light bathed me in a soft glow as I dumped the contents into my lap and took a quick inventory. Everything that should have been there was present and correct—a United Kingdom passport and driver’s licence; a matching credit card and a few thousand in cash, split between dollars and sterling; plus the other assorted detritus one normally accumulated. The body of the travel bag held spare clothes, toiletries, a Smith & Wesson .38 Special, and a butterfly knife. Everything I might need for an impromptu weekend away.
Excerpt – Meeting Luke
The guy emerged from the stable, and there was a collective intake of breath from everyone except me. He breathed deeply himself, leaning against the wall outside Samara’s stable with his eyes closed. His clenched jaw and balled fists suggested he was a man on the edge.
I took the opportunity to get a good look at him. Just over six feet tall, he had tousled, dark blond hair a month past needing a cut and a day’s worth of stubble. Were his jeans well-worn or designer? Hard to tell these days.
Three months ago, Bradley, who looked after my wardrobe as well as my diary, had presented me with a pair full of holes and informed me they cost over a thousand dollars. I’d counted up—sixty dollars per hole. He hadn’t been impressed when I told him to go with the cheap ones next time and I’d do the holes myself.
Next time. A sigh escaped. When would that be?
I shut down that wayward thought and looked back at Portia’s brother. Surely he must be freezing in only a T-shirt and a beaten up leather jacket? Still, his lack of clothing let me see his goods, and I ran through my mental checklist. The verdict? Not bad. I’d had better. I worked with better. In the department I ran, every day was Diet Coke Break day. But yeah, in Lower Foxford, I could see why Mr. Halston-Cain warranted a fucking fan club.
The clean version…
I understand that some readers might prefer to read without swearing or detailed sex scenes, so if this is you, then there's good news! I've adapted Pitch Black to give you the same great stories with no F-words or naughty bits 🙂
To make up for the lack of dirt, the clean versions have an extra little thread of story running through them, which culminates in a free novelette available to download with Forever Black.
Find more details HERE!
