PRISONER OF WAR (Vistaria Has Fallen: Book Two)
A Romantic Military Thriller
PRISONER OF WAR IS NOW AVAILABLE AT YOUR FAVOURITE RETAILER!
THIS WAS FABULOUS…yes, in shouty caps. I couldn’t read it fast enough. What a RIDE!
When love means more to you than your own life…
Everyone believes Duardo died on Vistaria, when the Insurrectos rampaged through the country. Minnie’s heart tells her otherwise. She risks everything to steal onto the war-torn island with the help of an unexpected ally.
Minnie is arrested and imprisoned as an enemy spy. The Insurrectos’ infamous intelligence officer, Zalaya, will stop at nothing to extract everything Minnie knows about the Loyalists.
Can Minnie escape? Even if she does, how will she find Duardo? The biggest question of them all–could Duardo have survived, after all?
Get your copy now of the second book in the Vistaria Has Fallen romantic suspense series reviewers are calling “original”, “compelling” and “a rollercoaster ride.”
[Reader Note: This series was previously published as erotic romance titles in the Vistaria Affair series. This new edition has been re-written for a general audience and re-titled.]
It has everything — action, suspense, surprises, romance! I could really see the scenes unfolding on a screen.
EXCERPT FROM PRISONER OF WAR
COPYRIGHT © TRACY COOPER-POSEY 2017
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
“That’s it? You won’t do anything?” Minnie demanded.
Nick pushed a hand through his hair. “You have to understand, Minnie. We have nearly no army and no weapons. Vistaria has been held by the insurrectos for three months. They’ve dug themselves into strongholds now. Even to go looking for Duardo would involve a massive operation to infiltrate Vistaria. I can’t authorize something like that. It’s not that I won’t. I cannot justify the risk and the expense, not for a single man. I’m sorrier about it than you can possibly imagine.” He smiled ruefully, “I truly wish I could give you a different answer.”
It was the understanding in his smile that did it. Nick’s smile and the model-perfect Miss Carmen, who wore designer jeans with a rip that revealed the bottom of her perfectly formed right ass cheek. She stood running her hands over the pecs and biceps of the college jock she’d dragged into the house. Minnie knew she did it to piss off Nick, but it irritated her, too.
That, and the fact that Carmen had casually ripped out the sleeves of the Diane von Furstenberg shirt, which would have cost Minnie a month’s salary, and loosely tied it around her waist, unfastened, so that every breath and movement she made threatened to spill out her breasts.
It occurred to Minnie that it would be very easy to hate Carmen Escobedo y Caballero. Yeah, she lost her father when the insurrectos bulldozed their way across Vistaria overnight, but the whole time she undulated against the jock, Carmen wore a smug little smile as she watched Nicolás Escobedo tell Minnie to go to hell.
Finally, after weeks of nothing but a dull ache where her heart used to be, Minnie felt something.
“You all think he’s dead, don’t you?” She curled her lip into a sneer. “None of you believe me.”
Calli rose from the lounger on the far side of the balcony. She and Nick and Minnie’s father, Josh, had been stealing a few moments of peace away from the chaotic, busy rooms of the big house perched on the cliffs on the north side of Acapulco. They’d been watching the sunset when Minnie found them.
Now Calli held her hands out, pleading, her face white. “Minnie, please, it’s not like that. We all miss Duardo.”
“Bullshit! How could you say you miss him and do nothing about getting him back?” The scream seemed to tear at her vocal cords. Tears sprang in her eyes. Tears of pain. Screw self-pity. She was done with pity. Enough was enough. These people were the key to getting Duardo back and she wasn’t moving until they did.
Nick touched Calli’s forearm, warning her. She lowered her hands and looked at Minnie, the same understanding patience on her face that Nick wore.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Minnie shouted. Her throat was raw. The shout made it hurt all over again. The tears came harder. Then she realized they weren’t tears of pain after all.
“Fuck!” She hated crying in front of people. Especially Carmen the Wonderful. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. They—all of them—would be horribly patient and understanding no matter what she said and in the end nothing would be done.
She whirled and hurried as fast as she could through the rambling, overcrowded house.