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Available Now: DEADLY PREMONITIONS by Kennedy Layne

DEADLY PREMONITIONS by Kennedy Layne is available today! You don’t want to miss getting your hands on this standalone romantic suspense, the last book in the SAFEGUARD SERIES. Shailyn and Townes’ story is NOT to be missed! Check it out below and pick up your copy now!

 

About DEADLY PREMONITIONS

USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne brings the Safeguard Series to a stunning conclusion with your favorite characters that will have you staying wide awake until the very last page is turned…

The ominous knock on the front door in the middle of the night should have given Shailyn Doyle fair warning, but she answered it despite her palpable fear.  Her past had finally come back to haunt her.  It would be nothing more than her worst nightmares come to life.

Townes Calvert had been given a brief glimpse of nirvana before having it ripped from his grasp.  He now has a chance to reclaim what was taken from him, but he must first hunt down the man responsible for murdering eighteen women and risk all that he loves.

Townes and Shailyn have no choice but to play a sadistic serial killer’s twisted game in their search to reclaim the love they had once been forced to sacrifice.  They both have envisioned what could be…but will they end up with nothing more than deadly premonitions?

Add DEADLY PREMONITIONS to your Goodreads list here!

Get your hands on DEADLY PREMONITIONS now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2iiBZGL
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2iR3Dd4
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2r1CQdX
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2jkms90

 

Read a Sneak Peek of DEADLY PREMONITIONS

Why would Townes come for her now?

That question nagged at Shailyn as she walked through the office door and down the long hallway to where the elevator banks were located. The black suit he’d been wearing made him seem to be a part of either the FBI or the U.S. Marshals Service. It was hard to believe that he would have joined the federal government in any enterprise, especially considering his affiliation to the one percent motorcycle clubs. She wondered if he was still a patched member bearing the Nomad rocker.

Why was she even curious?

What Townes did with his life was of no concern to her.

“Shailyn.”

His voice brought her up short, as if a wall had appeared. There was a raspiness to his tone that was discernable only to him. She closed her eyes to ward off the onrushing memories, knowing she could never go back and reclaim her past from the wreckage.

“There’s nothing to say, Gunny,” Shailyn whispered, having no doubt that he heard her use his charter name. It wasn’t coincidental that the nickname for his rank in the Corps and his charter name were the same. He’d gone by that handle for so long that at one point a large number of his associates in the one percent world never knew his given name. She’d had the privilege to know that particular nuance due to the closeness of their relationship at the time.

She was afraid to speak in a normal tone for fear she’d break down, but she didn’t want to appear weak. She cleared her throat and gathered what courage she had left. It was easier to use his familiar nickname as a form of self-defense, letting him know that she was a part of the past he’d left behind. He was a remembrance she would have given anything to have back, but that would never happen.

“You shouldn’t have come here. You’re not welcome.”

Shailyn forced her legs to move forward once again. It was getting harder and harder to breathe the longer she remained in his presence. He had taken all the air out of the building. “Moss didn’t give either of us a choice.”

And there it was. He’d been forced to this conclusion. Townes hadn’t come to Maine for her. He’d come because of Moss. His intention wasn’t to help the U.S. Marshals transfer her to another small town under a different banal name in order to maintain her anonymity. He wanted Shepherd Moss, and the only way to draw him out was through her as bait.

“You always have a choice, Gunny. Moss isn’t in charge of your agenda. Or is he?” Shailyn braced herself as she turned around to face him. Her attempt at composure almost cracked before she managed to slip it in place. His grey eyes saw too much. She wondered if he could still read her like a book. She fought the urge to tug her black turtleneck a little higher to hide the scars. “It doesn’t matter. I still have a choice. And I’m choosing to go back to the life that was created for me. You don’t need me to solve your problems.”

“Moss will eventually find you.” Townes turned the tables a bit, causing her to question his original intention. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Shailyn came very close to asking why he thought she would be better off with him, but she stopped herself before the words could escape. He would take her sentiment the wrong way. It was abundantly clear that he still blamed himself for what had happened to her all those years ago. He couldn’t see past his precious, self-involved guilt to recognize the truth— only one man was responsible for what was done to her. His name was Shepherd Moss.

“Moss has had over four months to find me,” Shailyn pointed out, refusing to be drawn into a debate that neither one of them would win. “Other than you placing me at risk by bringing me here tonight, what makes today any different from yesterday?”

A strand of his long brown hair came loose from the tie at the base of his neck, but it didn’t hide the fact that his scar turned white in response to his clenched jaw. He seemed to think she was purposefully making his job harder than it needed to be in terms of her consent.

“What is it exactly you want from me, Townes?”

“I want you to come back home to Florida with me.”

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

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First Chapter: DEADLY PREMONITIONS by Kennedy Layne

We’re just over a week away from the release of the last book in Kennedy Layne’s Safeguard Series, DEADLY PREMONITIONS! You can get your hands on DEADLY PREMONITIONS on November 14th – and trust us, you don’t want to miss this one! Check out the first chapter below and preorder your copy now!

 

About DEADLY PREMONITIONS

Available November 14th

USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne brings the Safeguard Series to a stunning conclusion with your favorite characters that will have you staying wide awake until the very last page is turned…

The ominous knock on the front door in the middle of the night should have given Shailyn Doyle fair warning, but she answered it despite her palpable fear.  Her past had finally come back to haunt her.  It would be nothing more than her worst nightmares come to life.

Townes Calvert had been given a brief glimpse of nirvana before having it ripped from his grasp.  He now has a chance to reclaim what was taken from him, but he must first hunt down the man responsible for murdering eighteen women and risk all that he loves.

Townes and Shailyn have no choice but to play a sadistic serial killer’s twisted game in their search to reclaim the love they had once been forced to sacrifice.  They both have envisioned what could be…but will they end up with nothing more than deadly premonitions?

Add DEADLY PREMONITIONS to your Goodreads list here!

DEADLY PREMONITIONS releases November 14th, 2017 – preorder your copy now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2iiBZGL
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2iR3Dd4
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2r1CQdX
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2jkms90

Read the First Chapter

Pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced before radiated throughout her body. There were no tears. She couldn’t manage a single teardrop. A deathlike chill had settled into her bones, chasing away all other bodily functions.  

She was paralyzed.

She was unable to move, to scream… or to hide.  

She was at his mercy, of which he had none.

Shailyn Doyle gasped as her upper body came off the bed. She couldn’t suck in enough oxygen. Her vision had become blurry. She would certainly die this time.

Panic took hold as its tentacles slithered around her soul, slowly strangling what life was left within her.

Shailyn wrapped her fingers around her throat in desperation. She struggled to draw air into her lungs to the point that even she could hear the whistling rattle of her frantic attempt at breathing. Seconds ticked by until the terrifying nightmare slowly fragmented into bits and pieces, eventually fading into dust as the terror disappeared.

“Two hours,” Shailyn murmured to herself after glancing at the clock on her bedside table. The green illuminated numbers read three fourteen in the morning. “Progress.”

Shailyn tossed the heavy comforter and sheet to the side in acceptance. She wouldn’t get any more sleep tonight. What was noteworthy was the fact that the top sheet was dry. She hadn’t even broken a sweat in her throes of memories best forgotten. It was hard to be proud of that detail when she recognized her reaction for what it was— tolerance.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. She recalled as a child always believing something or someone would reach out of the darkness and grab her ankles if she kept them dangling there long enough. She missed the days when the monsters had been nothing but a figment of her imagination.

Certain kinds of monsters were very real.

Shailyn automatically reached for the journal she kept on the bedside table, ignoring the slight tremor of her fingers. It was a byproduct of her time spent as a victim with a psychopath as her tormentor. She’d been left with a lot of daily reminders. That particular one didn’t rate high on the scale of her insecurities.

It wasn’t a conscious decision to write in her diary. It was a rote behavior after so many years of psychoanalysis. She didn’t even think twice about sliding the pen off the soft brown leather cover and setting the black ink to paper. Her psychiatrist had explained that keeping detailed notes of her dreams and reactions could render the next night a little easier and maybe even less intense. That had never been the truth as she knew it, but it did give her purpose.

She wrote down every facet of her nightmare underneath her last entry almost twenty hours earlier. There was no need for her to turn on a light considering she never slept in the dark anymore. As a matter of fact, every lamp and overhead light in this one-bedroom house was currently shining bright to keep the obscure shadows at bay.

It gave her a false sense of security. The dark represented the evil that crept in with the night.

She honestly didn’t care that the reassurance was a fabrication. The presence of the lights allowed her to physically walk through the rooms without hesitation.

Shailyn clipped the pen back onto the smooth jacket of her journal before setting both onto the nightstand. It didn’t take her long to cross the room and carefully draw the heavy curtain aside. Her bedroom was located on the main floor of the house, facing toward the front where a heavily armored, black government-plated SUV had been parked ever since Shepherd Moss had escaped from a federal prison.

Shepherd Moss— her own private monster.

He was a very special demon summoned from the depths of hell itself.

He was out there somewhere, biding his time as he savored her soul. Shailyn didn’t doubt that he was looking for her right this very moment.

After all, she was the only one who had ever gotten away.

Technically, that wasn’t true. She had not been able to work her way out of the restraints Moss had her bound in for three days. An Arthurian hero had found her instead, and her shining knight had refused to let her die. She barely recalled him arriving as dark as the night. His armor had been as rough as sackcloth, moving among the shadows as if they held no sway over him. He was the antithesis of her tormenter.

What did astound her was that the torture she’d undergone had only lasted three days.

A mere seventy-two hours.

How was that even possible when her time spent in that hellhole had seemed like an eternity of several lifetimes? Of course, the same thing could almost be said for the years she’d been in the witness protection program. Now those three hundred and sixty-five day spans seemed endless, consisting of nothingness. Was she actually awaiting Moss’ return with the promise of renewed torture?

She supposed she should be grateful. Eighteen women hadn’t been as lucky as her, but then again, what was so fortunate about living this so-called life she’d been given?

Shailyn let the curtain fall back into place, checking to make sure that not even a sliver of darkness was visible before she crossed the bedroom floor in her bare feet. The coolness of the hardwood didn’t bother her all that much, but wearing any type of shoe made her want to rip them off her feet and burn them. The scars on her ankles always became irritated when material rubbed against them for any period of time. She’d tried slip-ons in the past, as well as flip-flops, but those hadn’t worked either due to the damage done to the heels of her feet.

It didn’t take long for her to enter the living room and walk into the kitchen. The layout was simple, just as she liked it. The walls were devoid of pictures, there were no knick-knacks on the shelves or tabletops, and the few simple sticks of Ikea furniture had been rented with the house. It wasn’t like anyone questioned the way she lived, especially considering she never had any guests. No one was permitted to enter her home, though she did make an exception now and then to the U.S. Marshals who had taken up guarding her night and day since Moss had escaped federal prison. Why make any friendships when she would most likely be relocated sooner rather than later?

Groceries were delivered to a drop box on her front porch from the local store. She had access to the small area from inside the house. She could lock the outside access door to the box before ever opening the inside hatch. The delivery service was a special arrangement the grocery store provided for the elderly and shut-ins.

The Marshals vetted the designated delivery man and all the other employees of the friendly retailer. The grocery store tended to substitute their own brand a lot for other brand names, and they also charged a premium for nearly every item available through their service. Privacy apparently came with a price.

Shailyn hit the brew button, having already prepared the coffee maker three hours ago. She shivered slightly when condensation layered the sides of the glass carafe. Her feet were a little colder on the kitchen tile than they had been on the hardwood floor. The memory of a blue torch flame flashed across her mind’s eye.

She crossed into the living room and looked over at the bay window to ensure the drapes were closed like she’d left them. Her need for solitude had nothing to do with the fact that she was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas.

Everything was as it should be. She didn’t miss a step as she continued directly to the wall where her thermostat was positioned a little lower than eye level.

The digital numbers read seventy-two degrees. She didn’t care what digits were displayed and intentionally pressed the up arrow twice. Heat from the furnace had a tendency to rise from the vents, keeping only the upper half of the room warm while leaving the floors far too cold for her sensitive feet. Winters in Maine tended to get rather brisk, and this house wasn’t insulated properly. She honestly didn’t mind her electricity bill being higher. She always kept to her budget. It wasn’t like she spent her money on anything other than rent, utilities, and groceries.

She turned around to make her way back into the kitchen when the sight of her files on the desk caught her eye. The manila folder with ungraded essays sitting on top of the stack was crooked. She stopped walking, allowing her arms to drop to her sides, anticipating the assault.

Her heart stuttered in fear. Not because of death, but what came before it.

Everything on her desk had been perfect when she’d turned in for the couple hours of sleep she barely managed to obtain. She’d gotten into the habit of positioning items in a manner where only she would recognize if they’d been disturbed. And she was one hundred percent positive that the pile of schoolwork she’d been grading last night had been organized squarely in the left-hand corner. Not a millimeter had been out of place.

Okay. Ninety-nine percent sure, because one of the two U.S. Marshals sitting in the vehicle outside of her house had paid her a visit after noticing one of her two bulbs had burnt out on the porch. He had kindly replaced the lightbulb before rejoining his partner outside in the black sedan.

He could have easily bumped into the edge of her desk, causing the slight misalignment.

How many times had she overreacted over the years? Too many to count, that was for sure.

Shailyn bit her lip as she carefully looked over the living room for any other sign that someone other than the U.S. Marshal had been in her home. She cautiously put one foot in front of the other as she made her way through the entire house, eventually completing her search by returning to her desk after checking every room.

Nothing else was out of place.

“You’re losing your mind, girl.”

It was bound to happen, given the circumstances. She recalled a psychiatrist telling her that the average individual would have been institutionalized after suffering through the ordeal she’d been through. He couldn’t seem to accept that she was nothing extraordinary. She’d switched shrinks after that, going through a long line of men and women who had various opinions on how she should handle her future.

Shailyn gently rested the palm of her right hand underneath her breast on the opposite side. She had been left with a reminder that she would never have a normal life… at least, not the way she’d once envisioned.

The rich aroma of coffee filled the air, prompting her to return to the kitchen. She did stop briefly at the living room window and verify that the ever-present black sedan was still in position. Two silhouettes were easily discernible.

She thought about taking them out a thermos full of coffee, but a couple of things prevented her from doing so. For one, she didn’t go outside of these four walls any more than absolutely necessary. Two, she didn’t even own a thermos.

Shailyn pulled a single brown mug that had seen better days from the cupboard. The eighties-style porcelain dishes came with the rental house, allowing her to travel light when she had to move. Honestly, everything she owned fit in one suitcase and an oversized purse. She was a simple woman, really, even taking her coffee black without any further additions.

She sighed in resignation as she took her steaming coffee into the living room, snatching up the folder of essays that had given her more of a jolt than the caffeine in her coffee could provide. She looked forward to doing some mundane reading from the writing assignments she’d given her students taking the online course she taught to pass the time. It was also a way to make some additional money, though her students knew her as Ms. Rachel Smith.

Her online persona, as detailed in the course curriculum, featured a picture of a random middle-aged spinster freshly returned to the farm after retiring from some teaching position. She sometimes wondered about the identity of the woman in the photograph, considering the lack of a full-fledged backstory. WITSEC wasn’t that original when it came to assigning new identifications to their patrons. Ms. Smith was a retired teacher from Iowa. That was the best they could come up with.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The essays scattered onto the hardwood floor as the papers fell from her lap, taking the manila folder with them. Each essay was now drenched in coffee as she scrambled to her feet and spilled her hot beverage all over them. Her first thought was that Shepherd Moss wouldn’t knock on her front door to gain entry. He would have just appeared behind her. Her second and most insightful deduction was that trouble had just landed on her front porch.

She quietly stepped over the wet papers and set down her coffee mug on the side table, not stopping until she reached her desk. One of those cheap buy-as-you-go cell phones purchased off the rack at the local drug store was tucked into the top drawer. She always made sure the device was charged and ready to go should she need to leave the property or contact the Marshals. It also came in handy when she needed to call 911… which had never happened in all the years she’d been in WITSEC.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Ms. Smith, it’s Deputy U.S. Marshal Sturridge.”

Sturridge was the Marshal who had changed her lightbulb a few hours ago, but she couldn’t fathom why he would need to speak with her at this hour. She quickly opened the top desk drawer and retrieved her phone, pressing in the three numbers without initiating the call. She rested her thumb on the button as she slowly made her way to the door to evaluate the situation further.

“What seems to be the matter, Marshal?” Shailyn asked with concern, but doing her best to keep her fear disguised. She tilted her head so that she could hear Sturridge’s reply through the heavy door. She left off that this wasn’t their usual procedure. Technically, the average WITSEC individual didn’t have two Marshals sitting outside of his or her home on a regular basis. They were all given new identities and then expected to adapt, as if their lives hadn’t been ripped out from underneath them in the most violent way imaginable. “Is everything okay?”

“Ms. Smith, there’s been a development. We need to take you down to the Bureau’s Portland Field Office as soon as possible.”

Shailyn swallowed back the lump of alarm that formed in her throat. Had Moss killed someone else she’d known in her childhood? He’d done that exact thing a couple of months ago, most likely trying to draw her out from under the concealment of her WITSEC identity. The U.S. Marshals Service had been very adamant that she follow their instructions down to the exact letter since Moss had escaped federal custody. She’d complied, but she wasn’t so sure she could continue to do so should he target her friends or family again.

Shailyn rested her forehead against the hard surface of the door and pretended for just a moment that this night was like any other. She’d get close to a couple hours of sleep, work for a couple more on the computer, and then maybe get a half hour rest before her day started with her schedule of online classes. The visual gave her the composure she needed before releasing all three security locks they had installed upon moving her into this house.

“My family?” Shailyn asked hesitantly after opening the door. Sturridge gave her an encouraging smile, though sadness was visible in his soft, brown eyes. He reminded her of those gentle cowboy giants Louis L’Amour had written about when her father had been a young man. She recalled her dad reading her books of the Wild West when she’d been younger, allowing them both to enjoy her bedtime stories. Sometimes she wondered if her father would have preferred a boy. “Are they okay?”

“Yes, ma’am, they’re all fine as far as I’m aware.”

“Then why am I needed at the Portland Field Office in the middle of the night?” Shailyn had once been the spontaneous type, living every second of every day like it was her last when she’d been younger. That day had arrived sooner rather than later, changing her outlook on the simplest of pleasures. “Am I being relocated again?” “

Ms. Smith, you—”

“Please.” The word was just short of a plea. She was only human, and a flawed one at that. “Just tell me.”

“Shepherd Moss killed an agent on the case yesterday.”

Shailyn wasn’t surprised. At least, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her breathing faltered, though. Moss had targeted someone else, someone unrelated to her. She suspected that it wasn’t with no strings attached. She shouldn’t feel any guilt over the man’s predilection for torturing and killing people, particularly women. She’d done her part by sitting on that witness stand and testifying— no, reliving— every painful cut he’d sliced into her body. That included every burn he branded into her flesh, as well.

“I still don’t understand what that has to do with me, Marshal.”

Shailyn’s mouth had gone dry and she couldn’t even lick her lips to get the words out smoothly. Sturridge was glancing at his watch, as if they should be in a rush to get to the Portland Field Office. Since when had her activities ever been on such a tight timetable?

“Ms. Smith, the agent who was murdered had been assigned to watch over a woman by the name of Brettany Lambert. She was a childhood friend of yours, correct?”

Yes. Brett had been Shailyn’s best friend through elementary and middle school. A memory of them turning up the dial on her old boom box came to mind, along with a made-up game that kept them busy for hours. The first lyric to come through the speaker was what the boy she liked at the time was thinking of her at that very moment. They would each take turns, giggling their weekends away.

“Ms. Smith?”

Shailyn cleared her throat before nodding her agreement. She would go with Sturridge to the Portland Field Office, believing one hundred percent that she would be on a plane by noon. The U.S. Marshals and the FBI had been very cautious. It was their job to ensure her safety from the monster she’d helped put away. There had only ever been one man who’d truly given her that precious sense of security, and she hadn’t seen him once since the day she entered WITSEC.

This was her life now… being alone with only a suitcase to her name. She often wondered when the hand underneath the bed would finally grab her ankles and pull her into the shadows. What if she were to go into that hiding place voluntarily? Was that how she would find her freedom? Was death her only escape?

Or could she slay the monster before he was able to kill her?

*

He closed his eyes, reliving every second he spent in the company of Shailyn Doyle. Her unblemished flesh had been a canvas from which he had created something beautiful. He did design his masterpiece on her body, but only she had the pleasure of seeing his work every single day in the mirror.

 He wanted her back.

He needed to finish the seminal work he’d begun.  

Did the authorities not understand that he was the one in control? Had he not proven his dominance time and time again? His parting gift in Colorado he’d left for Townes Calvert should have gotten his message across.  

Townes Calvert.

 The only adversary who had ever lived up to his most exacting standards. The man’s personal interest in Shailyn Doyle would only make this game that much sweeter in the end. They would meet again soon, but he wasn’t ready to see his entertainment come to an end. He preferred the long game.

He rocked back on the wooden porch and listened to the crickets and frogs communicate in their harmonious languages. Mother Nature could end their conversations with a mere slap of her hand.  

He recalled the enchanting screams that fell from Shailyn’s chapped lips— now that was his favorite melody.

 

 

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Instagram 

Get it for Free: BRUTAL OBSESSION by Kennedy Layne

Don’t miss grabbing a copy of BRUTAL OBSESSION by Kennedy Layne for FREE now for a limited time. Pick up your copy and see the trailer for the Safeguard Series below!

Isn’t the trailer INCREDIBLE?

 
About BRUTAL OBSESSION

From USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne comes a thrilling new military romantic suspense series that will leave you on the edge of your seat… 

Keane Sanderson never thought he’d survive to see a day past his latest deployment with the United States Marines in Iraq.  That was six years ago and he’s finally ready to ease off the accelerator.  A unique opportunity to work for a top-shelf security and investigations firm in Florida is right up his alley.

Ashlyn Ellis had everything she’d ever wanted—a high-profile career as a federal prosecutor, an upscale apartment in the city, and a beach house for when she needed to decompress from all the stress that accompanied the job.  All three are threatened when she realizes someone has been following her every move for a very long time.

When Ashlyn comprehends the lengths her pursuer is willing to take things, she calls in a favor.  She never expected her plea for assistance to materialize in the form of Keane Sanderson—the one man who had every reason to revel in her misfortune.  She’s finally given the chance to rekindle the flames of desire she never should have extinguished, just in time for it all to be taken away when the stalker takes his obsession a step too far.

Series Description: Safeguard Security & Investigations (SSI) is owned and operated by Townes Calvert, a retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant who returned home to the States a bit more damaged than he’d care to admit. Not that anyone could tell outside of a very select group of former active duty buddies. It had taken Townes quite a while to acclimate to civilian life and he’d kept himself busy in the interim working in treacherous situations with even more dangerous friends. The final result is a close-knit unit of highly trained former military men who have the experience to protect the innocent, investigate crimes on the gritty edge, and aid local law enforcement when justice has taken a back seat to political correctness. Follow along as Kennedy Layne conveys each of their gripping stories as they work together on investigations that lead them down perilous paths of passion, intrigue, and suspense…

Add BRUTAL OBSESSION to your Goodreads list here!

Get your hands on BRUTAL OBSESSION for FREE now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/21tFVkc
✦iBooks http://apple.co/1lNRS5d
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/1WTyIJJ
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/1ri5Bnr

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Instagram 

Available Now: HONEST INTENTIONS by Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne’s HONEST INTENTIONS is available TODAY and romantic suspense lovers are not going to want to miss this one! Get a sneak peek below and pick up your copy now!

 

About HONEST INTENTIONS 

USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne continues the Safeguard Series with this fast-paced romantic suspense novel that leads the SSI team on the trail of a serial killer who continually seems to be one step ahead…

Coen Flynn has always done the right thing, even it meant siding against his own family. His sense of justice was what led him to take a job in law enforcement, though his choice of agency was a bit unorthodox. His current assignment was believed to be a simple protection detail.  He was never supposed to be identified by his charge, but a murder took priority and changed the course of his mission.

Brettany Lambert’s life is suddenly rocked when she finds the body of a dead friend on the eve of what was supposed to be a special wedding. Now Brettany and Coen are trapped in the middle of a blizzard and their attraction will fuel the heat of temptation. Good intentions always have a way of backfiring, but his desired intent won’t matter if a notorious serial killer can finish what he started.

Add HONEST INTENTIONS to your Goodreads list here!

 

Get your hands on HONEST INTENTIONS now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2tdIcrO
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2i19V8M 
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2jkiuxl
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2qXv3mD

 

Get a sneak peek of HONEST INTENTIONS now:

“Brettany?” Coen set his half-drained glass of orange juice back on the counter as he regarded her with curiosity. He misunderstood her silence. “Shepherd Moss has been quite busy in Florida, very far from here. It’s doubtful he’d make his way this far west. It’s a risk for him to travel even a short distance.”

Brett didn’t want to talk about murder, serial killers, or anything that had to do with his chosen profession or what she’d stumbled into last weekend. The storm had ended hours ago, the snow plows were out clearing off the streets one by one, and the sun was shining in a clear bright sky. It was a new day and one she wanted to celebrate with him.

She drained the rest of her tea and carefully placed her cup in the sink. This was it. There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the air, but that might be due to the fact that she’d stopped breathing. Her adrenaline spiked just enough as she walked around the kitchen island.

“Are you okay?” Coen asked cautiously, turning his stool slightly to the left so that he was facing her. “You haven’t—”

Brett closed the distance between them before she could change her mind. She slipped her fingers underneath the leather of the holster that seemed to be a permanent fixture over his shirt and pulled him close.

“Give me this one morning before you leave,” Brett whispered imploringly, searching for any sign that he was willing to ignore this attraction between them. Her heartbeat faltered when the rich brown of his eyes darkened in sensuality. “No strings. No expectations.”

“You don’t want to do this with me.” Coen raised his arms and gently clasped her wrists to stop her from sliding her hands up behind his neck. “I’m not—”

“Looking for anything serious?” Brett finished for him, although she inferred his statement as a question. “You might not believe this, but I’m not expecting you to want that with me. The plan I’ve laid out for myself doesn’t include a man in your line of work. I do want that white picket fence with a husband who will play baseball with our son in the backyard…but not for some time to come. In the meantime, I’m not without desire, Coen. I’m a woman with sexual needs…and I want to be with you very much before we part ways. I warned you there was a chance I’d take you up on what you had so temptingly dangled in front of me. Well, here I am…just like you wanted.”

 

 

           

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

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First Chapter: HONEST INTENTIONS by Kennedy Layne

We’re just over a week away from the release of HONEST INTENTIONS by Kennedy Layne – but we couldn’t wait that long! Read the first chapter below and preorder your copy today!

 
 

About HONEST INTENTIONS 

USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne continues the Safeguard Series with this fast-paced romantic suspense novel that leads the SSI team on the trail of a serial killer who continually seems to be one step ahead…

Coen Flynn has always done the right thing, even it meant siding against his own family. His sense of justice was what led him to take a job in law enforcement, though his choice of agency was a bit unorthodox. His current assignment was believed to be a simple protection detail.  He was never supposed to be identified by his charge, but a murder took priority and changed the course of his mission.

Brettany Lambert’s life is suddenly rocked when she finds the body of a dead friend on the eve of what was supposed to be a special wedding. Now Brettany and Coen are trapped in the middle of a blizzard and their attraction will fuel the heat of temptation. Good intentions always have a way of backfiring, but his desired intent won’t matter if a notorious serial killer can finish what he started.

Add HONEST INTENTIONS to your Goodreads list here!

 

HONEST INTENTIONS releases September 19th – preorder your copy now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2tdIcrO
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2i19V8M 
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✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2qXv3mD

 

Read the first chapter of HONEST INTENTIONS now:

One week ago…

The shrieking howl of the bitter cold wind pierced through the walls of the tiny log cabin as it endeavored to find a way inside.  The flames of the blazing fire reflected a thousand tiny flickers on the river rock hearth as it rose through the rafters and beyond.  The view was mesmerizing as the dancing columns of blue and yellow fluttered briefly in their efforts to consume enough oxygen.

The crisp night air finally succeeded in finding an otherwise tiny gap in the roughhewn pine logs that nevertheless continued their valiant fight to keep Old Man Winter at bay.  The tail ends of each curling spark were like desperate souls trying to fight for their survival.

The irony of that useless battle wasn’t lost on her as the fire consumed its fuel.

Brettany Lambert slowly ran her hands up her arms and over the soft fabric of her chain-knit sweater in a vain attempt to absorb the warmth emanating only a few feet from the fire.  The electricity had gone out hours ago, the backup generator had failed to start, and the wind chill had already dipped well below zero.  The night proved to be long, but she didn’t have to spend it alone.

She shot a glance toward the window that usually offered her a charming view of Mount Evans, but all she could see were large, distorted snowflakes battering the windowpane that Jack Frost had decorated with a whimsical etching of the winter winds.

Beyond that?

Nothing but darkness.

The Colorado mountain range was picturesque in the middle of winter, but it certainly wasn’t her idea of an idyllic place to host a romantic wedding.  Who wanted to say their vows against a backdrop of a wind chill that was in the double digits?  Add on to that the fact that each of the guests had to use snowmobiles or an arctic cat to reach their destination.  That should have clued in the future bride and groom that a classic Aruba beach wedding would have been much more appropriate—in addition to being a lot warmer, even during the latter part of the season.  Eighty-two degrees sounded pretty good right now.

Brett sighed in resignation as she reached for the scarf she’d strung up over the coatrack earlier.  She personally would have preferred any Caribbean location, but her proposal had been tossed aside like a bad penny the moment the wedding planning had begun over a year ago.  She usually tried not to dwell over where she stood on the friendship scale, but at that moment she had been shoved aside given that certain souls born in the West Elk Mountains of west-central Colorado were strange breeds anyway.  It was as if exposure to all those dark winter months affected their perception of what was obvious to everyone else.

The bride had listened to her maid of honor, despite all the other opposing views.  Heidi had thought Louise and Chad marrying where they met would be romantic, but it turned out to be a total disaster.  The wedding journey had started off with the incredibly difficult task of finding a heavy winter coat that would cover a traditional wedding dress.  Unfortunately, the beautifully added layer wasn’t needed by the end of the rocky passage to wedded bliss.

Chad had decided the day before the ceremony was the perfect time to bring up old wounds, unearthing some deep-seated bitterness that had never been completely wiped clean.  Louise had been all but blindsided as the groom had heatedly declared that the wedding was off, although most of the still sober guests suspected an alcohol-soaked bachelor party was to blame.  It instantly caused their family and friends to take sides.

“Complete idiots,” Brett muttered in fondness, wrapping the cashmere scarf around her neck before lightly binding the ends together.  “Any Caribbean island would have sufficed.  But no, we had to come to a place that resembles Antarctica.”

She loved them both dearly and didn’t want either of them to throw away a life together over a past mistake that had been rehashed over and over again until there was nothing but ashes.  Louise and Chad thrived on drama, though.  It followed them no matter where they went—even on their wedding getaway to the great white north.

Luckily for them, all the guests were now stranded on this isolated mountain range until the storm lifted and permitted everyone to take what snowmobiles and conveyances there were across the pass to safety.  Until then, it gave Chad and Louise’s family and friends time to try to talk sense into the two of them…at least those who weren’t in favor of a total and complete separation.

Had that been Heidi’s plan all along?  She never did like some of Chad’s friends.

Brett shrugged into the horribly expensive parka she’d specifically bought for this trip, ignoring the path her thoughts had taken.  She wasn’t one to judge, and that certainly wouldn’t help the situation now that everything had blown over, so to speak.  The bottom line was that she could either stay out here in this tiny, frosty cabin she’d been assigned to for the whole weekend and go stir crazy, or she could join the others up at the lodge and see if the massive hoard of proffered nuptial booze was still available.

It wasn’t that the main inn was some kind of colossal log structure that could fit hundreds of guests.  It was much more of a larger cabin…maybe triple in size as the one she was currently staying in with a large kitchen to host the twelve or so guests occupying the camp.  It also helped that the lodge had a larger generator that worked even at these temperatures.

Brett checked herself over one more time, taking in her winter jacket, scarf, gloves, and waterproofed Ugg boots.  She had somehow drawn the shortest straw without even realizing it when she’d been assigned the cabin farthest from the lodge.

Suddenly, the scene from Jurassic Park popped into her head when the actors drew lots to see who would race those velociraptors through the utility tunnels to turn the power back on to the contaminated pens.

She honestly hadn’t minded the distance in the least, until the storm had hit.  Watching the groundskeeper string rope from each cabin had put the dangers of such extreme weather into serious perspective.

Brett finally gathered the courage to crack open the hatch.

The wind was stronger than she had expected.  She barely maintained her hold on the side of the door as a strong gust tried to rip the wood from her fingers.  The snowfall didn’t feel like the normal white fluffy flakes collecting on the ground, but instead like pelting ice crystals trying to penetrate her cheeks similar to little needles.  She pushed down her gathering irritation that they could all be lying on the beach somewhere enjoying the trade winds with those umbrella drinks to drown their disappointment with the cancelled ceremony.

Brett turned away as she pulled the door closed behind her, not bothering to lock the latch.  One, she trusted everyone here not to snoop.  Two, no other sane person not stupid enough to attend this debacle could possibly be this high up on the mountain range in this crappy weather.  Three, there was nothing of value that she’d brought with her other than her laptop anyway.  It wasn’t like her computer was even of any use, considering there wasn’t Wi-Fi or any other type of cellular service that could be activated to reach the Internet.

This area was as primitive as it got, which was why a shiver ran up the back of her neck that had nothing to do with the bitter cold.  God help them should anything happen that would be considered a real emergency.  They were a very long way from medical rescue help.  There would be no life flight helicopter with this storm, just a whole lot of pain for a very long time.

Another shriek of wind jarringly howled as the strong gusts of frigid air traveled through the ancient pines surrounding the campground.  Had she not been listening to that exact same eerie sound all evening, she would have thought it was a screaming banshee somewhere off in the distance.  It was downright terrifying.  Mother Nature at her worst.  Brett breathed a little easier as the screeching wail slowly faded.

She had no choice but to expose her face to the harsh elements as she looked for the knotted rope that would guide her toward the lodge.  It occurred to her that the knots were evenly spaced at ten foot intervals.  She reached into her right pocket and pulled out a small black lithium battery flashlight they had all been given by the groundskeeper.  That vital contribution alone should have clued her in as to how severe these conditions could develop from a simple prediction of two to four inches into something truly monstrous as the system stalled swirling over the top of the range like a miniature hurricane made up of icy winds.

The meteorologist had certainly gotten this one wrong.   His ass should be fired.

Brett focused the beam in the direction of where the rope had been tied off to a small stake in the ground ahead of her.  She had no trouble locating the line tied to her post on the front porch, though it was rather difficult to walk against the wind out in the open.  At least seven inches of heavy snow had already dropped with many more expected according to the last radio transmission she’d heard this morning before the power and the wedding failed.

Now one of the children’s songs from Frosty the Snowman got stuck in her head.

Put one foot in front of the other…

Each step Brett managed to undertake took effort, but it wasn’t quite so hard with the joyful melody in her head.  She mentally kept track of her pace, figuring she wasn’t even halfway to the next cabin and even farther from her intended destination.  That was okay.  Her daily runs kept her in fairly good shape.  It was getting a little hard to breathe, but she chalked it up to the altitude and the temperature.

“Ahh!”

Brett tried to catch herself as her boot caught on something solid buried in the snow.  Not even her tight grip on the rope could keep her upright.  The cushion of the thick white blanket did nothing to stop the blunt force of her body hitting the ground with a muted thud.  She landed on her hands and knees abruptly.  The impact instantly sent her good spirits and the merry little melody packing.  It didn’t help that she’d lost her hold on the tiny flashlight.  The item in question had landed about four feet in front of her.

“Damn it,” Brett muttered in frustration, instantly lifting both hands in the air as she sat back on her legs.  She tried to shake out the snow that had stuck itself into the sleeves of her jacket, but it was too late.  “Ugh.”

The cold slush had already melted against her wrists and was instantly soaked up by the material of her sweater sleeves.  It didn’t help that the thin denim of her jeans became saturated by the cold moisture around her knees in spite of her long johns underneath, though her boots were well insulated and protected her ankles and feet.

There was always a silver lining, right?

Well, she couldn’t stay outside in these unforgiving temperatures forever. She quickly reached for the rope that was now shoulder height above her.  She finally caught onto the coarse twine, but she didn’t stand.  Instead, she scooted forward on her knees and reached out toward the bright light illuminating the snow like a brilliant beam driving up into the night’s sky.

Wait.

What was on top of the snow?

Blood?

Brett instinctively closed her gloved fingers into the palm of her hand.  Her mind immediately rejected the grisly word it had formed, her heart breaking for whatever poor animal had been hurt in such a harsh winter storm.  She couldn’t stand to think of such an innocent creature suffering in pain.

She tried to look around, but it was a futile effort.

Had the critter found shelter, food, and water?

Brett maintained her hold on the rope as she reached over the splatters of red dots for the flashlight.  She followed the trail with the beam, easily making out the darker circle that had already melted the snow underneath.

That was a lot of blood for an animal.

“Shit,” Brett muttered, left with a decision that could very well be detrimental to her own health.  She wanted to help whatever animal was bleeding so profusely, but she didn’t want to put herself in any danger of getting lost in the winter landscape.  It could be a bunny rabbit or a doe some hunter had wounded that simply needed a bandage and some shelter in order to recover.  Or it could very well be a very large black bear, in which case she would immediately regret her choice of not leaving well enough alone.  “This is the kind of crap that gets me into trouble.  Nothing like this would have happened in Aruba.”

Brett’s parents had to deal with more strays than any other mother and father in their old neighborhood.  She really should have become a veterinarian, but teaching kids had seemed less daunting than Taming the Shrew, her ode to her favorite classic author.  How wrong she’d been, but she could ruminate about her life’s choices another time.  A wounded animal was somewhere close by, and she couldn’t leave them to fend for themselves in this crap.

She made a rash decision to quickly check out how far the trail of blood went with every intention of turning back once she reached the outer edge of the camp.  She wouldn’t venture any farther than the back clearing the cabins were in.  Taking in how far she’d already walked, Heidi or Martin’s cabin had to be to the right of her current location.  Her search should be safe enough, if she discounted the fact that she was starting to shake from exposure to the cold.

The pool of blood that had soaked into the ground happened to be right underneath one of the other ropes, so Brett grabbed ahold of the thick twine and cautiously proceeded to follow the trail.  She didn’t want to inadvertently stumble upon a wounded animal, so she slowed her steps.  The critter would almost certainly react in defense of itself, most likely striking out at her.  It wouldn’t do to have them both hurt and bleeding.

Brett couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering as the cold moisture from her denim and the wetness from the sleeves of her sweater started to soak into her skin.  It didn’t help that the wind had once again picked up to a howl, propelling the little needles directly into her face.  She blinked several times, unable to stop her eyes from watering as the forceful gusts refused to relent.

After halting her progress a couple of times to wipe the tears from her cheeks with the back of her gloves, she finally managed to find the end of the blood trail.  Surprisingly, it was on the doorstep to one of the cabins.  Had someone already taken whatever it was inside?

She lifted the flashlight and shined the beam on the assigned number.

Four.

That was Heidi’s cabin.

Brett surmised that the animal must have curled up underneath the small awning, but a slow swipe of the artificial light revealed nothing of interest.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

A splatter of blood was literally at the threshold of the door.

Had Heidi heard the injured animal and brought it inside?

“Heidi!” Brett called out after a couple of knocks on the door.  “Heidi, open up!”

No answer.

As a matter of fact, the wind had died down and the snow appeared to be falling at a slower pace as the flakes leisurely found their home with the others on the ground.  It had become eerily quiet as the echo of her voice faded in the clearing.

The smell of firewood burning drifted through the air from every direction, reminding Brett that everyone was trying to ride out the storm and stay warm.  Had Heidi brought the wounded animal inside to keep it warm or had she taken it up to the main lodge?

Brett looked over her shoulder, shifting her hood after she’d released her hold on the rope.  She swiped the beam of the flashlight over the area, though she found no one else around.  That wasn’t surprising.  All the other guests were probably enjoying a late dinner and trying to patch up Chris and Louise’s relationship so that tomorrow’s ceremony could continue without further delay.

Brett would knock one more time, just in case Heidi was still inside.  She might need help bringing the little critter up to the central cabin.

“Heidi?” Brett called out with a bang of her fist to the frozen wood, certainly not expecting the door to unlatch and swing open from the simple force of her knock.  She instinctively used her shoulder to push open the entrance upon sensing the heat from inside…only there was no fire.  There was only darkness…and the distinct smell of copper.  “Hello?”

Heidi must have already left to join the others, leaving her fire to burn itself out.  Brett was well aware that leaving a roaring fire burning in the hearth when no one was present wasn’t the brightest of ideas, but this campground had no electricity at the moment.  The only structure she knew of with a working generator was the main lodge, but that didn’t help the individual cabins once the main power to the camp had failed.

It also didn’t help to extinguish the strong odor of what could only be blood.

Had Heidi been unable to save the animal, or had she sought help from the others?  Brett’s curiosity always got the better of her, and now was no exception to that rule.  She quickly swiped her arm in one long motion, only wanting to confirm that the animal hadn’t been left behind.  It took more than a few seconds for the sight before her to penetrate the deep-seated denial that her mind instantly created.

The gruesome image trying to form in her mind was of Heidi’s sightless, cloudy, dilated eyes staring directly into the beam of Brett’s flashlight, but that couldn’t be right.

Her friend couldn’t dead.

That wasn’t right.

“Heidi?” Brett took a step closer because the name falling from her lips came out as nothing but a whisper as her breath billowed in the air.  Heidi wouldn’t be able to hear her.  She hadn’t been loud enough to be heard properly.  She cleared her throat and tried again.  “Heidi?”

Brett’s boot slipped out from under her.  She tried to catch her balance, but there was nothing for her to grab ahold of as she swung her arms wildly and caught nothing but air.  She landed hard on her side where her hip took the brunt of her body weight.  Unfortunately, her flashlight once again slipped away from her grip and rolled a couple feet away.

Panic had already started to infuse itself, because there was no way she could accept the scene which was painted in front of her.  This had to be a horrible joke—a very sick and cruel joke.  That didn’t stop the horror of what could possibly be reality bubble into a scream that never released.  Brett was too busy scrambling for the flashlight and crawling toward the beam that was now directed toward herself.

“What—”

Brett stared in revulsion at the red, thick coagulating liquid coating her hand.  She’d first thought her palms had landed in the melting snow she’d brought in with her boots, but this…this was all blood.

Heidi’s blood.

“No, no, no,” Brett chanted over and over as she finally picked up the flashlight and swung the light back toward Heidi.

Was this real?

Oh, my God!

Heidi’s lips were parted as if she were silently screaming, while her eyes were trained on something no one on this earth could possibly see.  Her normally ivory white skin had lost its vibrancy, reminding Brett of the glue her class used to make arts and crafts.  She’d never be able to glue glitter on construction paper again without recalling this grisly image.

Blue.  The color of Heidi’s lips and her discernable veins were blue.

Her friend was almost certainly dead.

And the blood.

There was so much blood.

Brett swallowed against the bile in her throat as she attempted to stand without falling.  She recognized the need to call for help, but she couldn’t get her body to agree to move.  No one would hear her anyway.

All she could manage to do was stare in horror at…death.

Death had come knocking without a wedding invitation.

Heidi was too young to have her life cut so short.

Terror unlike anything Brett had ever experienced settled over her like a cold blanket at the thought that someone had done this to Heidi.  There had been no wounded animal.  The blood outside had been Heidi’s and someone had brought her inside to bleed out.

Icy spindles wrapped themselves around Brett as she finally grasped the understanding that this hadn’t been an accident.

Someone had done this to her friend.

Someone had committed murder so far away from the rest of the world.

And that someone had to still be here in the campground, trapped by the storm…trapped here with her.

* * * *

He hadn’t had time to finish what he’d started.

Anger morphed into rage, but he had no outlet.

Not now that the body had been discovered.

That had been taken from him the moment Brettany Lambert had walked into Heidi’s cabin.  He’d been trying to cover the tread of the boot marks he’d left in the snow when he’d heard a muffled cry, alerting him to the fact that he hadn’t been alone anymore.

Brettany had walked right by him, not even realizing she had been arm’s length away from the sharp blade of his knife.  He should have stabbed her then and there, dropping her in the snow.

Now, he had to watch from afar as the beam from her flashlight finally faded from his sight as she entered Heidi’s cabin.  He waited in the darkness for the satisfying scream to carry through the air.

It took longer than he thought it would.

           

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Instagram 

Cover Reveal: DEADLY PREMONITIONS by Kennedy Layne

We are so excited to reveal the last cover from Kennedy Layne’s Safeguard Series, DEADLY PREMONITIONS! You can get your hands on DEADLY PREMONITIONS on November 14th – and trust us, you don’t want to miss this one!

 

About DEADLY PREMONITIONS

Available November 14th

USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne brings the Safeguard Series to a stunning conclusion with your favorite characters that will have you staying wide awake until the very last page is turned…

The ominous knock on the front door in the middle of the night should have given Shailyn Doyle fair warning, but she answered it despite her palpable fear.  Her past had finally come back to haunt her.  It would be nothing more than her worst nightmares come to life.

Townes Calvert had been given a brief glimpse of nirvana before having it ripped from his grasp.  He now has a chance to reclaim what was taken from him, but he must first hunt down the man responsible for murdering eighteen women and risk all that he loves.

Townes and Shailyn have no choice but to play a sadistic serial killer’s twisted game in their search to reclaim the love they had once been forced to sacrifice.  They both have envisioned what could be…but will they end up with nothing more than deadly premonitions?

Add DEADLY PREMONITIONS to your Goodreads list here!

DEADLY PREMONITIONS releases November 14th, 2017 – preorder your copy now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2iiBZGL
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2iR3Dd4
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2r1CQdX
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2jkms90

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Instagram 

Available Now: CASUAL IMPRESSIONS by Kennedy Layne

We’re so excited that CASUAL IMPRESSIONS by Kennedy Layne is available now! We absolutely love this sexy and suspense filled novel and know you will too. Make sure to pick up your copy today!

 

 

 About CASUAL IMPRESSIONS

In this electrifying novel from USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne, the Safeguard team is coming ever closer to catching an elusive serial killer who might very well be hunting one of their own…

Sawyer Madison has spent the last few months hunting down a sadistic killer.  He and his team don’t seem to be any closer to solving this particular case that has hit a little too close to home. Fortunately, they had all served in the Corps. That kind of training and dedication meant none of them considered quitting before the mission was done.

Camryn Novak had spent most of her childhood, and a large part of her adult life, dealing with her overprotective brother. So when an admirer becomes a little too obsessed with her due to her high-profile career, she decides it would be simpler to reach out to someone a little less emotionally invested.

Sawyer never expected to bump into the sister of one of his teammates while traveling on assignment.  Women like her were off limits—one shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.  One burning touch was all it took to make his good intentions go up in flames.  Unfortunately, it won’t just be her brother’s wrath he’s forced to face when an unknown perp targets Camryn—it might very well be the same psychopath they’ve been hunting all along.

Add CASUAL IMPRESSIONS to your Goodreads list here!

Get your hands on CASUAL IMPRESSIONS:

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2oW58Js
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2jkbl08
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2oHMH8K
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2jkhSYF

 

Read an excerpt from CASUAL IMPRESSIONS

 

The elevator chimed before either one of them could say anything else. Sawyer stepped aside after making sure the hall was empty and rested a hand on the left side of the elevator door, preventing it from closing before she crossed the threshold onto the blue and burgundy carpet. She wasn’t sure of the reason, but butterflies had set up camp in her stomach. She hadn’t experienced fluttering of this sort since her first audition for her breakout film.

“I’d like to take a look around your room, if you don’t mind,” Sawyer said as he watched her slide the card key into the slot. A green button lit up and announced her success in unlatching the lock.

“Of course. Please, come in.” Camryn quickly tried to recall how she’d left the room, but Sawyer had already slipped past her after closing the door behind them and stepped into the powder room on the right. He left the faint, heady fragrance of his cologne in his wake. It didn’t take him long to search the hotel suite, including checking the closets and adjoining doors to make sure they were properly secured. He left her once again wondering what she would say that could thank him for what he’d done last night and today at the police station. “I truly appreciate what—”

“Camryn, you don’t need to thank me.” Sawyer slowly reached up with both hands and gently removed his sunglasses until there was no barrier between them but space. His blue eyes searched hers for something she couldn’t put her finger on, but the quietness of his tone held an intimacy she’d been craving since they’d met at the airport. “You’re Brody’s sister. We look out for our own in our close-knit family.”

Heat had been making its way through her body when his words crashed over her like ice water. Why did everything have to come back around to her brother? Yes, that was their initial connection, but she didn’t want it to be the only thing that bonded them together. She instinctively reacted without thought, lifting herself up on her tiptoes and using his chest as leverage to keep her balance.

“I’m not just Brody’s sister, Sawyer. I’m also not yours,” Camryn whispered, right before she pressed her lips to his to prove her point.

Time stood still.

Camryn was pretty sure she actually heard the crackling of electricity in the air as she waited for him to decide how much further to take this moment. The answer came when his warm hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. Her heart stuttered until he finally deepened their kiss.

His tongue stroked hers. Arousal slowly worked its way through her body, warming every inch of her that had been cold since last night. He tasted of coffee, mint, and something else that had her craving for more of the same.

Camryn arched farther into him when he used his right arm to wrap around her waist, bringing her even closer. She couldn’t help but let out a small whimper of pleasure when his left hand cupped the side of her face, tilting her head back so that he could nip her bottom lip before deepening their kiss once again.

The slight bite sent shivers up and down her spine. Before she could move her hands from his chest and around his neck, Sawyer abruptly pulled away… leaving Camryn craving more.

 

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

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First Chapter: CASUAL IMPRESSIONS by Kennedy Layne

We’re just a little over a week away from the release of CASUAL IMPRESSIONS by Kennedy Layne and we thought we’d share part of the first chapter with you to celebrate! Check it out below and preorder your copy now!

 

 About CASUAL IMPRESSIONS

In this electrifying novel from USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne, the Safeguard team is coming ever closer to catching an elusive serial killer who might very well be hunting one of their own…

Sawyer Madison has spent the last few months hunting down a sadistic killer.  He and his team don’t seem to be any closer to solving this particular case that has hit a little too close to home. Fortunately, they had all served in the Corps. That kind of training and dedication meant none of them considered quitting before the mission was done.

Camryn Novak had spent most of her childhood, and a large part of her adult life, dealing with her overprotective brother. So when an admirer becomes a little too obsessed with her due to her high-profile career, she decides it would be simpler to reach out to someone a little less emotionally invested.

Sawyer never expected to bump into the sister of one of his teammates while traveling on assignment.  Women like her were off limits—one shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.  One burning touch was all it took to make his good intentions go up in flames.  Unfortunately, it won’t just be her brother’s wrath he’s forced to face when an unknown perp targets Camryn—it might very well be the same psychopath they’ve been hunting all along.

Add CASUAL IMPRESSIONS to your Goodreads list here!

CASUAL IMPRESSIONS releases July 18th, 2017 – preorder your copy now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2oW58Js
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2jkbl08
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2oHMH8K
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2jkhSYF

Read part of the first chapter of CASUAL IMPRESSIONS

“You look like you could use some help.”

Camryn glanced up to find an attractive male around five years her junior standing before her. He had a beer glass in one hand and was holding up his other arm to grab the attention of the bartender. In seconds, another hand towel was tossed their way— this one damp with soda water. It didn’t take a genius to figure out from the man’s southern drawl, or the immediate attention he’d garnered from the staff, that he was a recognized face here.

“Thank you,” Camryn said, raising her voice so that he could hear her over the conversations around them.

She had her long, dark brown strands pulled back at the base of her neck. She’d purposefully chosen a pair of sunglasses that were too dark to wear casually, which was why she’d flipped them up onto her head earlier this evening.

Camryn used the sunglasses earlier to prevent people from recognizing her and hadn’t given it a second thought upon entering this establishment. She should have taken Aiden up on his offer to walk her back to her hotel, but she hadn’t caught sight of the man taking pictures until she’d started strolling down the infamous Bourbon Street.

“You look familiar.” The man had somehow magically exchanged his beer for a glass of soda water and was offering it to her so that she could dip the towel into the cleansing liquid. His curious gaze never left her face. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Camryn replied with a small smile to hide her convenient lie. She took the towel from his hand and quickly wiped the coarse material down her arms and chest. She was now wishing she’d worn a light jacket. “I wasn’t watching where I was going and bumped into someone with a fresh Hurricane, of all things. Needless to say, it spilled on both of us.”

“It sounds like you could use a drink yourself,” the man surmised, holding up his hand once more to signify to the bartender that he wanted another round of whatever he was having. “Bourbon Street tends to be a bit crowded during this time of night. It’s rare anyone goes home without a set of beads and in desperate need of a shower.”

“Speaking of home, I really should be moving along.” Camryn pressed a now clean hand against the back pocket of her jeans, confirming that her phone, identification, and credit card were still in place. She hadn’t wanted to carry a purse with so many people milling about. “I have an early business meeting.”

“Do you live in the Parish? Like I said, you look familiar. Maybe I’ve seen you around socially.”

“I’m from Illinois,” Camryn automatically replied, having learned long ago never to reveal the location of her current address to a stranger. Technically, this time she wasn’t actually lying. Her mother still resided in Chicago. “Thank you so much for the towel and soda water. I—”

Camryn had just tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear when she caught sight of a black camera— the same one she’d spotted leaving the last bar. Large hands were busy adjusting the lens as the man zoomed in on her, most likely modifying his focus due to the dim lighting between the front room and the side area where the bar was located. She forced herself to really examine the figure behind the camera, noticing right away he didn’t carry a bulging case like the typical paparazzi.

He also didn’t have any type of identification badge hanging around his neck like most of the press photographers, not that it was a prerequisite for independents. Something told her this man had nothing to do with any gossip rag or reputable magazine.

He was just shadowing her.

“Oh, shit,” the man exclaimed excitedly, having turned to see who had caught her interest. The camera must have triggered his memory. “You’re Camryn Novak! Guys, come over here! Camryn Novak is right here!”

This wasn’t the type of attention she was hoping for at the moment, but it was almost impossible for her to just up and leave now that a crowd began to form around her. The only benefit of her present situation was the fact that she was no longer visible to the man who’d once again tracked her down.

Who was he?

Granted, he might just be an obsessed fan who wanted to take her picture and was too shy to ask her to strike a pose, but that wasn’t what her intuition was telling her. He had an aggressive manner about him.

The next fifteen minutes inched by as she spent the time getting her photograph taken by the patrons and signing napkins for those who sought an autograph. Camryn was mystified why anyone would want a picture with her wearing a red-stained blouse, with her looking all windblown and just one hot mess.

Camryn still managed to paste a smile on her face, all the while doing her best not to panic at the thought of leaving here unaccompanied to walk to her hotel.

Where was he now?

He had to be nearby waiting for her to leave. Unfortunately, both exits were visible from the corner.

She could always call her brother’s friend. He would certainly deter any unwanted advances. He also just happened to be in town on business. She immediately discarded that thought after a single moment of reflection, refusing to let word get back to Brody that his baby sister couldn’t take care of herself while strolling down Bourbon Street on a typical November weekday evening.

Camryn had fought very hard to get this far in her life, and she wouldn’t ruin it now.

Another napkin was pushed in front of her, but she didn’t sign it right away. There was already writing imbedded into the rough material. She froze as the black ink finally penetrated, though the indentions made no sense to her at first.

Why were there a series of numbers written on a napkin?

Her name was also etched onto the white square, right above the date… a date that wouldn’t occur for another two weeks yet.

It was then that a cold realization settled over her unlike anything she had ever experienced.

She had to be mistaken. Maybe someone wanted to date her autograph and had just gotten the day of the month wrong. That was more plausible than the thoughts racing through her mind.

Brody Novak. Her brother— the same brother who was working for a privately contracted security agency. He and his team were currently searching for a notorious serial killer who had escaped from federal prison only a few months ago. Shepherd Moss had been the name of the bloodthirsty murderer, and he’d been convicted of killing eighteen women after torturing them for days on end, only to then carve the date of their death into their bodies while they were still breathing.

It was ludicrous to think that the same serial killer would target her of all people, just to get back at her brother, all because of who his employer was and what they were doing to hunt him down.

It was just a date written on a napkin.

It didn’t mean anything to anyone.

She should never have had that second drink she’d been offered. Her mind was starting to twist innocent facts. She was taking a relatively innocuous incident and making it into something it couldn’t possibly be.

Camryn scrunched the white cocktail napkin in the palm of her hand as she lifted her head and scanned the crowd. Her heart stuttered when her eyes landed on that same black lens, but she stood firm. She should have confronted this creep when she’d first spotted him.

There he was by the entrance of the wide-open foyer, the camera once again blocking the majority of his face.

Camryn couldn’t stop her brother’s voice from whispering all those casual warnings in her head repeatedly.

Shepherd Moss was a wanted man, listed on the FBI’s Top Ten Most Wanted list. His picture had been plastered across the national media endlessly. She tried to make herself see reason and not get herself caught up in the moment. There was absolutely no way he could be walking around New Orleans without someone spotting him. She struggled to recall his features, but the image of his face wouldn’t surface no matter how hard she tried.

She’d recognize him if she saw him, right?

She watched in somewhat disbelief as he released the camera with one hand, reaching his arm out to her and pointing his finger at the napkin still hanging from her fingertips.

It hadn’t been a mistake. The date written in black ink had been intentional. There was no doubt he was responsible for the odd notation in her hand.

Camryn had seen a lot in her line of business— one of them being what stalkers could do to mess with a fellow actress or actor’s mind. It went both ways. It was as if they had some kind of perverse relationship.

She had no idea if this man was Shepherd Moss or just some random guy who’d grown an unhealthy obsession over her, but she’d be damned if she would sit back and play the terrifying female role when she had a trove of adoring male fans around to utilize in her defense. There were too many witnesses for this man to do anything violent to her. After all, the best defense was a good offense.

Her brother had taught her to take the initiative.

Camryn didn’t waste time as she elbowed her way through the massive crowd, ignoring the calls for more autographs as she drew attention to herself. All eyes were on her, but her sole focus was on the man with the camera who’d been following her for at least thirty minutes, if not longer. She didn’t miss his startled reaction when he hastily took a step back away from her rushing figure. He spun on his worn brown loafers and only then lowered the camera as he tried to get past the patrons standing in the entryway.

She memorized every detail she could of his backside, all the way down to the generic set of khaki pants he was wearing with a brown belt to match his shoes. He was distancing himself quickly and she tried her best to catch up to him before he left the building, but it was futile.

The man had vanished by the time her wedge sandals hit the black and white checkered tile floor of the entrance.

Camryn scanned the crowd passing by just outside the double doors, even though she was aware her search was pointless. She still stepped outside into the cooling night air, hoping to catch some glimpse of him. It appeared she’d scared him off by taking the offensive, but the question remained… would he linger behind and wait for another glimpse of her? Would he be able to detect her amongst the crowd when it came time to leave? If the answer was yes, then she would need to be prepared. That did not include a call to her brother, who would only put her in some sort of protective custody, most likely deploying the entire New Orleans Police Department in the meantime.

She had another trump up her sleeve, and she was willing to use it if she could get a guarantee that word wouldn’t get back to Brody. Before placing that call, she needed to finish what she’d started inside the pub. She didn’t seek out publicity, but she was never rude to a fan once she was recognized.

The shove at her shoulder was so unexpected that she immediately lost her balance.

Camryn frantically flailed her arms to reach out to the nearest person, but her fingers couldn’t grab ahold of anything.

Air.

All she caught was air and though she tried to brace herself for the impact of the street, she was unsuccessful.

Camryn’s head hit the cement curb and then… nothing.

 

***

She was so beautiful… lying there on the sidewalk with her lashes resting on her flushed cheeks. Or was that from the neon red light from the crosswalk sign? It didn’t really matter. People still surrounded her if they really cared whether she lived or died. Had her gluttonous heart stopped beating, her memory would vanish within days. As usual, it didn’t take long before a few of these strangers recognized her.  

It was sickening.

Why was she so special?  

He wanted to take a picture of her lying there prostrate at his feet so he could recall this moment in time over and over as he prepared.

After all, this was the magical moment both of their lives had changed.

 

CASUAL IMPRESSIONS releases July 18th, 2017 – preorder your copy now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2oW58Js
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2jkbl08
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2oHMH8K
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2jkhSYF

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Instagram 

Teaser Reveal: CASUAL IMPRESSIONS by Kennedy Layne

CASUAL IMPRESSIONS releases July 18th and we can’t wait! We’re so excited we wanted to share a few teasers with you today. Check out them out today and find out more about CASUAL IMPRESSIONS below!

 

 About CASUAL IMPRESSIONS

In this electrifying novel from USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne, the Safeguard team is coming ever closer to catching an elusive serial killer who might very well be hunting one of their own…

Sawyer Madison has spent the last few months hunting down a sadistic killer.  He and his team don’t seem to be any closer to solving this particular case that has hit a little too close to home. Fortunately, they had all served in the Corps. That kind of training and dedication meant none of them considered quitting before the mission was done.

Camryn Novak had spent most of her childhood, and a large part of her adult life, dealing with her overprotective brother. So when an admirer becomes a little too obsessed with her due to her high-profile career, she decides it would be simpler to reach out to someone a little less emotionally invested.

Sawyer never expected to bump into the sister of one of his teammates while traveling on assignment.  Women like her were off limits—one shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.  One burning touch was all it took to make his good intentions go up in flames.  Unfortunately, it won’t just be her brother’s wrath he’s forced to face when an unknown perp targets Camryn—it might very well be the same psychopath they’ve been hunting all along.

Add CASUAL IMPRESSIONS to your Goodreads list here!

CASUAL IMPRESSIONS releases July 18th, 2017 – preorder your copy now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2oW58Js
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2jkbl08
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2oHMH8K
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2jkhSYF

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Instagram 

Cover Reveal: HONEST INTENTIONS by Kennedy Layne

We are so excited to reveal another awesome cover from Kennedy Layne’s Safeguard Series! HONEST INTENTIONS releases September 19th and we can’t wait. Check out the awesome cover and find out more about HONEST INTENTIONS below!

About HONEST INTENTIONS 

USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne continues the Safeguard Series with this fast-paced romantic suspense novel that leads the SSI team on the trail of a serial killer who continually seems to be one step ahead…

Coen Flynn has always done the right thing, even it meant siding against his own family. His sense of justice was what led him to take a job in law enforcement, though his choice of agency was a bit unorthodox. His current assignment was believed to be a simple protection detail.  He was never supposed to be identified by his charge, but a murder took priority and changed the course of his mission.

Brettany Lambert’s life is suddenly rocked when she finds the body of a dead friend on the eve of what was supposed to be a special wedding. Now Brettany and Coen are trapped in the middle of a blizzard and their attraction will fuel the heat of temptation. Good intentions always have a way of backfiring, but his desired intent won’t matter if a notorious serial killer can finish what he started.

Add HONEST INTENTIONS to your Goodreads list here!

HONEST INTENTIONS releases September 19th, 2017 – preorder your copy now!

✦Amazon http://amzn.to/2tdIcrO
✦iBooks http://apple.co/2i19V8M 
✦Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2jkiuxl
✦Kobo http://bit.ly/2qXv3mD

About Kennedy Layne

Kennedy Layne is a USA Today bestselling author. She draws inspiration for her military romantic suspense novels in part from her not-so-secret second life as a wife of a retired Marine Master Sergeant. He doubles as her critique partner, beta reader, and military consultant. They live in the Midwest with their teenage son and menagerie of pets. The loyal dogs and mischievous cats appreciate her writing days as much as she does, usually curled up in front of the fireplace. She loves hearing from readers–find out how to connect with her at www.kennedylayne.com.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Instagram 


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