terça-feira, 13 de dezembro de 2016

Book Blitz: "A Harmless Little Plan" - Meli Raine


Title: A Harmless Little Plan (Harmless #3)
Author: Meli Raine
Publication date: December 13th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Synopsis
Turns out there was a second video from that awful night four years ago. Mine wasn’t the only tape.
Too bad mine wasn’t the worst.
Drew can’t protect me no matter how hard he tries, but the roles are flipped now. I have to help him, but I’m not wired that way. Not anymore. That one night changed me more than anyone knows.
More than anyone could predict.
Three men think they’re above the law. They’re right.
But I’m willing to go beneath the law to make sure they never harm anyone else. Their threats don’t scare me.
When you have nothing left to lose because someone took it all away, you create the most dangerous creature imaginable.
Me.
Game over.

A Harmless Little Plan is the final book in the political thriller/romantic suspense trilogy by USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine.



Other books in the series "Harmless"



Teaser 1
I say nothing. I can’t. If I have a speech center in my brain, it’s shut down so the rest of me can work on pure survival. I know from four years on the Island that the mind can be your best friend or your worst enemy. Thoughts loop through me, triggering a rush of fear so great I think it’ll tear my skin into ribbons in an attempt to flee my body.
Because my body is the target.
Drew’s in police custody? For stalking me? What does that all mean? He didn’t stalk me.
My mind scrambles to put the pieces together.
Set up. It’s a set up. Drew’s being turned into the scapegoat.
Oh, God.
If they’re telling the truth, how will he get out? How will he rescue me?
I can’t look at them. Screaming won’t make a difference. Out of the corner of my eye I see Silas outside, right by the double doors to the house. My heart squeezes in my chest. As we rise higher and higher, he gets smaller and smaller.
He failed.
He doesn’t know it yet, but he failed.

Teaser 2
As the helicopter lifts off, I crack one eyelid.
Stellan. Of course.
I say nothing. I can’t. If I have a speech center in my brain, it’s shut down so the rest of me can work on pure survival. I know from four years on the Island that the mind can be your best friend or your worst enemy. Thoughts loop through me, triggering a rush of fear so great I think it’ll tear my skin into ribbons in an attempt to flee my body.
Because my body is the target.
Drew’s in police custody? For stalking me? What does that all mean? He didn’t stalk me.
My mind scrambles to put the pieces together.
Set up. It’s a set up. Drew’s being turned into the scapegoat.
Oh, God.
If they’re telling the truth, how will he get out? How will he rescue me?
I can’t look at them. Screaming won’t make a difference. Out of the corner of my eye I see Silas outside, right by the double doors to the house. My heart squeezes in my chest. As we rise higher and higher, he gets smaller and smaller.
He failed.
He doesn’t know it yet, but he failed.

Teaser 3
Time.
Time is my friend. The longer I can buy time, the better the chance Drew can get me be-fore they, well...
Before they kill me.
A hopeless black hole takes over at my core. It expands, like a pupil dilating, taking over my bones, my organs, my flesh, my everything.
I’m about to be hurt badly.
Tortured.
Violated.
And I can’t stop it. Being drugged would be preferable to this. Maybe later, I’ll beg for that.
I can try to lessen the severity. But Drew’s not coming anytime soon.


Excerpt 1
“Okay,” I concede. “You win. Why me? Why are you doing this?” It takes so much control not to cry, or whine. The slight shake in my voice is pretty damn understandable, given the circumstances. Every muscle I have, including my lungs, keeps tightening, as if making them smaller will make me less likely to be hurt.
Not possible.
John shrugs. Shrugs.
“It’s nothing personal.”
I cough, choking on a universe-sized dose of incredulity. Nothing personal? This is nothing personal? A thousand responses flood my mind but I’m not rational, so none of them come out.
“Don’t you have a game or something? I thought baseball players didn’t get days off during the season.”
He pretends his shoulder hurts, rubbing it while pursing his lips in a pretend pout. “Per-fectly-timed injury,” he says, adding a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “I have three days with nothing to do.” He leans in, his hand stroking my jaw. I close my eyes but don’t jerk away. “I get to do you,” he whispers, his breath filled with moisture, like he’s licking my face although it’s just air.
My ribs cave in on themselves, tensing so hard I’m afraid they’ll crack, my belly clench-ing.
I can’t let go. Can’t relax. I start to shiver. I can’t control it. My bladder threatens to let go. Suddenly, I’m ten feet away from my body, because really, what else can my caged mind do?
I’m in hell.
People do whatever it takes not to be in hell. We have a biological drive to survive. It goes beyond the body.
Speaking of the body, I remember the microchip. A whimper comes out of my nose. Tears fill the back of my throat, hot and salty, thickening. I nearly gag but control myself, a sob trying to work its way out.
If nothing else, they’ll find my body. Drew’s chip gives me that relief.
Unless they cut my hand off.
The helicopter cuts a sharp right, angling down, and because they didn’t buckle me in, I roll into the door. John thumps against me, his hip digging into my butt. His body is tight and physically radiates heat that makes me nauseated. I can’t stand having him breathing in my hair, his hands on my ribs as the helicopter rights and he pretends to need to touch me to sit up.
Why pretend? I have no power. He can do anything he wants to me right now.
The thought makes the world go wavy, white dots filling my vision.
Oh, no.

Excerpt 2
Think about Drew, I tell myself. Remember his arms, how he smells. Look around the bathroom. There’s a can of shaving cream. A bar of used soap. A toothbrush holder with a crooked toothbrush hanging from it. The sink is messy, with small speckles on it. An elec-tric razor is next to the shaving cream.
Huh. Wonder why he shaves both ways.
As I breathe my way to a relaxed state, I let myself indulge in imagining what it would have been like to become domestic with Drew. To come here and hang out. Spend the night. Slowly work our way toward a long-term relationship. Mom and Daddy would never put up with my living with him, but eventually we’d get married.
My ring finger on my left hand tingles at the thought.
Married.
Mrs. Andrew Foster.
Years ago, I had these fantasies. I lived a life before the attacks where I could be like any other woman, dreaming about the future. We even talked, tentatively, about what life would be like after Drew graduated from West Point.
We were just about there.
And then it was all taken from us.

Excerpt 3
They have to feed me.
Right?
Unless they plan to kill me in the next couple of hours.
If they’re not feeding me, is that a sign? Or are they just assholes who don’t care about feeding me? My stomach gurgles. Then it makes an epic sound, like wet boulders being dragged through mud with air pockets.
Muffled voices provide a strange background sound. None of their words is distinct, but the accumulation of them stacks up to create a ribbon of sound. Whatever they’re planning for me, they’re not tipping their hands.
I’m left without a voice, without a way to get out, and without Drew.
Time keeps changing. I’m on the bed again, but sitting up against the headboard, my hands in front of me in a zip tie. It’s better than having them behind me. Hurts less.
That’s how I measure time now. Through pain. Less pain = easier to pass time.
Time slows when the pain increases.
I can’t think forward, either. If I anticipate time, think about the future, the pain increas-es, too.
Mental pain.
Mental pain that will soon convert to physical pain.
What are they going to do to me?
As I move, my hair tickles my neck. Because I’m living with my skin on fire, every nerve quick and ready to react, even a gentle touch like strands of hair against my skin feels horrible. My mind keeps playing through memories of the video I’ve seen of what they did to me.
My gut tightens. I’m close to throwing up.
If they’re going to torture me and kill me, I wish they’d just do it.
But then again, if I draw this out long enough, Drew may have enough time to find me and save me.



Author Bio
Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them.
Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.



Giveaway (INTL - ends December 15th)


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