by Casi McLean
Lake Lanier Mysteries
Book # 2
Beyond The Mist
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Blurb
When a treacherous storm spirals Piper Taylor into the arms of Nick Cramer, an intriguing lawyer, she never expected to fall in love. But when he disappears, she risks her life to find him; unaware the search would thrust her into international espionage, terrorism, and the space-time continuum.
Nick leads a charmed life except when it comes to his heart. Haunted by a past relationship, he can’t move forward with Piper despite the feelings she evokes. When he stumbles upon a secret portal hidden beneath Atlanta’s Lake Lanier, he seizes the chance to correct his mistakes.
A slip through time has consequences beyond their wildest dreams. Can Piper find Nick and bring him home before he alters the fabric of time, or will the lovers drift forever Beyond The Mist?
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Lake Lanier, GA June 2012
A soft mist hovered over the moonlit lake, beckoning, luring him forward with the seductive enticement of a mermaid's song. The rhythmic clatter of a distant train moaned in harmony with a symphony of cricket chirps and croaking frogs. Mesmerized, Nick Cramer took a long breath and waded deeper into the murky cove. Dank air, laden with a scent of soggy earth and pine crawled across his bare arms. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled, shooting a prickle slithering around his spine into an icy pool quivering in the pit of his abdomen. Shots of fiery energy electrified his senses, thousands of needles spewed venom into his chest until his stomach heaved and rancid bile choked into his throat. He clenched his fingers into a tight fist, determined to fight through the fear now consuming him.
I can do this––he forged ahead––only a few more steps and––a sudden surge swirled around him, yanking him into a whirling vortex; a violent blue haze dragged him deeper, deeper beneath the lake into the shadowy depths. Heart pounding, he battled against the force, twisting, pulling back toward the surface with all his strength but, despite his muscular build, he spun like a feather in the wind into oblivion. When the mist dissolved, Nick Cramer had vanished.
Lake Lanier Mysteries
Book # 3
Between The Shadows
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Audible Buy Link: https://adbl.co/2mptlJh
Blurb
Thrust back in time, Kenzi never expected to confront deadly villains––let alone fall in love with one.
After her friend, York, encounters the ghostly image of a young woman, Mackenzie Reynolds seizes the opportunity to initiate a time jump, thrusting them back to 1865 Georgia. Resolved to thwart the girl’s untimely fate, Kenzi stumbles into a deadly conflict over a stockpile of stolen Confederate gold.
An injured Civil War survivor, James Adams departs for home with a war-fatigued companion he’s determined to help. After pilfering a horse and kidnapping a woman, he never dreamed his hostage would steal his heart.
Kenzi and James must unravel a deadly plot, while helping York save his ghost woman from a brutal death. But can she leave York in a violent past to save James’s life?
A Gripping Novel By USA Today Bestselling Author, Casi McLean
Excerpt
“Don’t you dare die on me, James Adams.”
Kenzi pressed a wad of blood-soaked gauze against his abdomen. “I won’t lose you. Not now.”
Barely clinging to life, the man opened his eyes a slit, raised the gun still tightly gripped in his hand and shot off a round.
Stunned, she snapped around. “No.” Screaming, she dove for the barrel through a hazy blue mist.
Again, the gun rang out as the patient fell unconscious.
“Help. Someone, please help”.
A muted voice murmured from beyond the fog. “Dr. Reynolds? Is that you?”
Her frantic reply cried out, “Yes, of course it’s me. Hurry. He’s bleeding out.”
“Brady...” James’s voice faded as he slipped into semiconscious mumbling.
Yanking the pistol from his grip with her right hand, she maintained pressure with her left. A heartbeat later, the cylinder encasing them rotated open. Kenzi stood then sprinted across the room past an attendant then pounded on a fist-sized alert button affixed to the wall. The resulting alarm shrieked through the underground chamber, reverberating as it radiated throughout the compound. A second man dressed in a white jumpsuit burst through double doors.
“Gurney. Now.” Kenzi screamed at both attendants. “And O-Neg blood. Hurry. Go, go, go.” She ran to James and knelt beside him. Lifting his head, she slid a knee underneath it for support and smoothed a chunk of his dark brown hair from his face. “I’ve sacrificed way too much to have you die now,” she whispered. “My ass will burn for this. Not to mention the repercussions for abandoning York.”
Pulse racing, she checked his bandage. Despite her efforts, streams of crimson still oozed from the wound. Pressing again on the gauze, she shook her head. “Oh God. I have no idea what blood type you are, but you should tolerate O-negative.” She pressed harder on his wound. “Jesus help you, James. You’ve lost so much blood. Just please, hang on.”
Again, the double doors swung wide. This time, a gurney pushed through, followed by the two men. One ran to Kenzi’s side.
“Help me lift him.” Her hands, slick with blood, shot to her white T-top, already drenched in crimson. On a second thought, she swept them down the rear of her jeans. Then, sliding her slippery arms beneath his back, she braced her stance with one bent knee.
“One, two, three.” They heaved him in tandem onto the gurney. She snatched a bottle of Betadine from the attached supply basket and doused her hands then splashed more on James’s forearm, grasped an IV and punctured a vein on the inside of his wrist with the sterile needle. Once connected, she hooked the blood pouch on the IV pole and barked at the team, “Let’s move. If this man bleeds out, there will be hell to pay.”
The men, poised with hands on the side of the rails, awaited their next move. “Where to, Dr. Reynolds?”
Kenzi stared at James’s ashen face, worried her meager experience wasn’t enough to save his life––but she had no option. “Surgery.”
Springing into action, one man rolled the gurney down the hallway, while a second leapt onto the base and slipped an oxygen mask over James’s nose and mouth. “I hope this guy isn’t allergic to Propofol.” He attached an anesthesia drip to the IV. “Judas Priest. What happened to him to cause such a gaping wound?”
“He was shot...with a musket.”
Deep State Mysteries
book # 1
Reign of Fire
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Blurb
To expose a faction threatening America’s democracy, Emily Rose joins forces with a team investigating her sister’s murder, but she never expects to fall in love––or to encounter her twin’s ghost.
Ashton Frasier accepts his detective career choice means a life of bachelorhood––until Emily Rose blows into his world.
Surrounded by danger with the country’s democracy at stake, Emily and Ash must protect the White House while taming their mysterious burning passion––lit by cunning spirit with good intentions.
Can a ghost spark love in the midst of chaos?
Excerpt
Chapter One
Alyssa Rose shifted her gaze in every direction, searching for suspicious bystanders. Her cloak-and-dagger cover had her exit the Capitol through the door next to the ladies’ room. The out-of-character detour might have been an insignificant detail, but evading possible surveillance made her breathe easier. Walking east of the Capitol altered her routine, so a side trip to this particular mail drop provided a prime spot to send her letter under the radar.
Trembling as
she approached her destination, she scrutinized everyone, zeroing in on their eyes. If she observed someone with a shifty gaze or noticed an unusual glance in her direction, she’d walk past the postal box and circle back later. No one could see her mail this letter.
Taking a deep breath, she slid the envelope from beneath her coat, ran her finger across the address then quickly slipped the letter into the mailbox at the corner of Independence and Pennsylvania. A cold chill slithered around her neck, shooting pins and needles in every direction before tightening the knot already twisting in her stomach. Drawing together the lapels of her royal-blue coat, she snatched the soft cashmere and cast one more glance around before striding across Pennsylvania toward 2nd Street.
The icy tingle numbing Alyssa to the bone had little to do with the cool March weather. The crisp air might have exacerbated the sensation, but her accidental discovery initiated the anxiety, and she couldn’t erase the images seared into her mind. If anyone discovered what she saw, her very life would be in jeopardy. God, she wished she could un-know what now dominated her thoughts.
Only a few weeks ago, Alyssa lived a blissful life of naiveté. Her family reared her to hold dear the advantages her country bestowed, and when her senior field trip took the class to Williamsburg, Virginia, she experienced a strong sense of patriotism that continued to blossom.
Wyatt, her brother, fanned the fire blazing in her belly. Despite his horrendous accident in Afghanistan, his love for country burned eternal. If anything, the explosion that took his legs fanned the flames, and he encouraged Alyssa to use her skills to fight for a better country from within the body that created the laws. An intern job would help her learn policy to springboard to a political profession and open doors where she could make a real difference.
She worked her butt off long and hard to secure a spot in this program. A budding Intern for Congressman Derek Winfield, Alyssa saw this job as her big chance. Granted, the position seemed mundane, if not ridiculous. She simply walked in, picked up a pile of messages and dispersed them to offices on The Hill accordingly.
Email would have been a lot easier and faster. At first, she thought the task was a newbie-only job assigned to interns, forcing them to learn the lay of the land. But Derek explained email messages were traceable. They were etched into hard drives and nearly impossible to erase.
So, for the time being interoffice mail delivery was her job and a rung of the ladder she’d be happy to pass on when the time came. Until then, she didn’t mind starting her career at the bottom rung of the ladder. The mailroom had its perks. Playing courier allowed her to walk historic streets and take in the ambiance, imagining the town during different eras and all the presidents who once strolled on antiquated roads beneath her.
Her innocent walks around Capitol Hill mingled business with pleasure. Ear buds firmly tucked in place, she listened to her favorite mix, while chalking up her health goal of ten thousand-steps. The bustle between L’Enfant Plaza and the Capitol energized her. Wide-eyed, she relished the inspiration America’s forefathers instilled––until the dreadful day an arbitrary Starbucks patron collided with her as he bolted into the store. Memories swirling, her mind replayed the fateful day in a 24/7 constant loop. How could such an innocent random event spiral into this very real nightmare?
Purse slung over her shoulder, with a tray of coffee orders in one hand and a stack of to-be-delivered messages in the other, Alyssa had no control as her balancing act flew into the air, leaving a deluge of coffee-splattered, mocha-scented letters cluttering the entrance. “No, no, no.” After flinging her hands, she snatched a pile of napkins and frowned at the mess surrounding her. She drew in a deep breath. Indignation seething inside, she clenched a fist to repress her reaction to a simmer.
“Son of a bitch.” The dark-haired man’s attention dropped to his camelhair coat. Brushing off coffee beads to keep them from soaking into his lapel, he flashed a gaze toward Alyssa, offering a lame apology. “Sorry. This mess is totally on me.”
A tinge of satisfaction befell her, as she eyed his splattered attire. “I can see that.” She chuckled.
He followed her line of vision and glanced downward. “Perfect.” Grabbing more napkins, he cleaned whipped cream from his shoes then wiped his pants before noticing a sizable blotch on the pocket of his camelhair. “Damn it.” Tugging off the coat, he draped it across the side of the condiment stand and reached for an arbitrary towel clumped into a mound beside him, then pressed on the stain. Not until he appeared to be satisfied with his own results, did he return his attention to Alyssa, now squatting beside him, cleaning the coffee puddle. “Here, let me help you.”
She rolled her eyes but said nothing, although her thoughts rebuked him. It’s about damn time you focused on the chaos you caused…
The stranger knelt with towel in hand and sloshed it around in the pool of coffee, making the mess exponentially worse, while Alyssa fought to keep her boiling frustration at bay. Shifting her gaze to her scattered and smothered envelopes, she turned and duck-walked, gathering them into a drenched pile. She clenched her jaw, then shook and examined each packet, an effort that did little more to minimize the damage than changing splotches to dribbles.
When an attendant came to the rescue and began mopping the floor, the stranger stood, retrieved his coat, and draped it over an arm. “Damn. Can this day get any worse?” He glanced at his watch. “Son of a––now, I’m running late.” Turning toward Alyssa, he reached into his back pocket and drew out a business card then handed it to her. “Take this. I’ll pay your dry-cleaning bill. Just shoot me an email.” Instead of buying a coffee, he smacked open the door and rushed outside, quickly disappearing into the busy crowd.
Alyssa’s last nerve had her grinding her teeth as she inspected her own coat for stains. Surprised her clothing escaped the coffee cascade, she stuffed the man’s proffer into her pocket without even glancing at his name. She felt a bit atoned that the bulk of the mess splashed over him as opposed to her. But a quick glance at her letters doused the brief restitution. Again, she blotted the notes in her charge in an attempt to salvage them, hoping the incident wouldn’t cost her job.
When the attendant finished mopping the floor, he asked if he could remake her order.
Alyssa nodded and thanked him, still wiping her mess. Why did the collision have to happen to her? She cussed the arrogant man under her breath. How dare he blow her off after causing the incident?
Instead of the attendant, a manager returned to the scene with a carryout tray of fresh coffee. “This batch is on the house. I saw that whole scenario go down.” He shook his head. “That guy could have at least helped you with your mail, since he was the reason your envelopes were soiled.”
“Thank you so much.” Alyssa appreciatively took the order. “I’m sorry to make such a mess.”
The manager shrugged. “Hey, you did nothing wrong. No worries. Stuff happens.”
“Tell that to my boss.” Rolling her eyes, Alyssa splayed the pile of notes in her hand. “How can I deliver these to senators and congressmen?” Heat raged in her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut for a long beat, resisting the march of berating anger clenching her stomach. True, the accident wasn’t her fault, but if she hadn’t been so engrossed in listening to her music, she might have seen the man busting through the door and avoided the mishap altogether.
The manager smiled and raised an eyebrow. “The damage looks superficial. Maybe you could just replace the envelopes?” He gazed at the soggy array. “Look, the coffee didn’t stain the addresses beyond recognition, and I doubt the damage seeped through to the inside messages.”
“Perhaps…” Alyssa’s frown faded as she inspected the notes and considered his idea. “You might be right. Thanks.” If she hurried to her office and simply switched the envelopes, she could deliver the messages with only a slight delay…no one would be the wiser. Gathering her paperwork and coffee, she rushed outside then scurried to her office, assured the plan just might save
her ass.
In theory, the switch was a no-brainer. She never dreamed one instinctual cover-your-ass choice could threaten her life. Opening the coffee-stained envelopes and switching the notes to identical, deliverable packets seemed the perfect solution––until she discovered the one note never intended for delivery…the note that validated the existence of a shadow government.
Geez, if only she hadn’t opened that wretched letter. She gasped the moment she saw an immediate burn order splashed in red across the top of the page above a simple title: The List. As she read on, she swallowed hard, her breath catching in her throat. She had no idea how deep the faction went, or which treasonous federal officials would be revealed once the list was decoded.
Racking her brain, she couldn’t recall where the delivery had come from. She couldn’t remember picking it up from any of the offices. But she had to admit her mindless deliveries rarely demanded her undivided attention. Still, the envelope was smaller than the others, and it didn’t carry the standard Federal Government insignia.
A loud honking from a car speeding through the traffic signal brought her thoughts back to the moment. Dear God. The last thing she needed was a jolt to boost her adrenaline.
Biting the edge of her bottom lip, Alyssa shoved her trembling hands into her pockets and picked up her pace, rationalizing her decision. She didn’t intend to snoop that day. She simply couldn’t deliver soggy, damaged mail and expect no one would notice. An entry-level job meant no demotions existed. If she didn’t perform up to expectations, firing was the only alternative. Her priority…she had to save her dream-job.