As some of you now know (thank you for subscribing
to my newsletter (http://eepurl.com/01Eef) ! Sign up today if you haven’t already!) I
have decided to self-publish a couple of books. This isn’t something that I
took too quickly, in fact it’s something I’ve agonized over for a while now.
As you all know I once wrote as Honor James. I was
with another publisher and wrote a series called Knights of Ares. I loved these
men and when I left the publisher I thought that I would lose them forever. I
couldn’t do that however, but part of me needed a fresh start as well.
So….
All six books of the Knights of Ares series have been re-written (I only saved the names of the men because they were so close to my heart) and I’m going to self-publish the series. I hadn’t intended on this series coming out yet – however I guess I uploaded it far too soon to the retailers and boom, here it is!
So, without further ado here is the first book of the series.
The Knights of Ares are a joint Navy SEAL and Army Ranger
team that has been tasked with a new war. One that needs to be kept from being discovered,
at all costs.
Mikhail “Wolf” Rossov and Gareth “Gunner”
Gruffyd are part of the team that are fighting a war no one knows is happening.
Out on the job, they end up saving a woman who turns out to be more than they
could have believed.
Morgan Berry is a kindergarten teacher. The
most dangerous part of her job is a wide spread flu epidemic in her class.
Being a teacher is all she’s ever wanted, she never thought she’d soon be part
of something bigger.
Kidnapped to become a pawn in a dangerous,
violent game, Morgan has only one hope. For her men to come to her rescue,
before it’s too late. She knows that they would walk through the fires of hell
for her. But will they make it in time?
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I really hope that you enjoy these books.
My thanks to:
Avril
Stepowski Who edited the book
Jess Buffett
Who did the cover
Doris
O’Connor and Kacey
Hammell Who critiqued the book before I sent it for edits (thank you,
Doris!)
Rhonda
Butterball – Thank you for being you!
And last but most
certainly NOT LEAST!!
Moira
Callahan Who was there for me while I waffled on what
I wanted to do with this series. Seriously, Moira, love ya lots lady and you
are really my best friend and I’m so freaking grateful to have you in my life!
---
PS – this does NOT mean that I’m no longer writing
for Evernight Publishing, I am. I have several books slated in the “coming
soon” area of Evernight and I’m working on more for them. These six books
however will be self-published.
***
Now, how about a couple of excerpts? Mmmm I love
reading a little about the books, don’t you?
Location: Classified…
It
was good to be back on American soil. While he thought of himself as more
Russian than American, America had been his home for all his life and would
always be home.
Stepping
out of the steam from the bathroom, he finished toweling off as he padded into
the locker room. Nodding to his teammates who were scattered around in various
states of undress, he grabbed up a pair of jeans and pulled them on.
Three
weeks since their mission to extract the CIA operative from Greece without
anyone, official or not, the wiser. While it hadn’t been smooth, they’d gotten
in and out without alerting anyone that they’d ever been there. Bad guys
notwithstanding of course.
Buttoning
up his fly, Mik crammed his feet into a pair of boots. Grabbing his shirt, he
hauled it on before dropping to sit on the bench to do up his boots.
They’d
been in various meetings and sessions to debrief since they’d gotten out of
Greece with the operative. All they knew about her was her code name for the
op, Sugar. Not exactly fitting given the venom she’d directed their way the
entire flight out of the country and then
back to the States. But then again, she hadn’t looked all that happy before
they’d met her so, really, who was he to judge.
What
her mission had been in the country he
couldn’t say. But since they were, currently, on friendly terms with Greece,
who the fuck knew. Especially when it came to the spooks. Those guys just loved
to root around in the darkest of corners looking for enemies and, if they
couldn’t find one, making new ones.
Getting
to his feet, he stomped them a little to
settle the boots in place. Just as he grabbed his leather jacket, the door into
the locker room crashed open and four MP’s came in.
“Sorry,
sirs. The Admiral has requested your presence, immediately.”
Shooting
his team mates a look Mik knew it wasn’t an actual “request.” No one, an Admiral especially, needed four heavily armed
MP’s to pass on a “request”. No, it was an order that if not obeyed, he would
bet the MPs had very specific and
detailed instructions about what to do.
Shrugging
into his jacket, he leaned against his
locker as his cohorts got dressed. Not a one of them in any apparent rush.
While the MPs had said immediately, and he was sure the Admiral had meant
yesterday, they weren’t really going to just give in. That wasn’t how a one of
them was made. He watched his fellow team members as they all seemed to
gravitate into their duos, as usual. He wasn’t surprised when Gareth shot him a
small crooked grin. The men weren’t couples, but they all worked together very
well and at least where he and Gareth were concerned, shared women more often
than not.
Rubbing
a hand over his mouth, he hid his smirk
as James “Fury” Ashton asked one of their team, Anton “Viper” Lueger, which
shirt went with his eyes better. Always pushing the envelope that one. Catching the look on the MP’s faces and the way
they were fiddling with their sidearms, he cleared his throat. Catching
everyone’s attention he gave them a couple of signals out of sight of the MPs.
It
got everyone moving faster. If a bunch of highly trained military cops were that twitchy, something big was going
down. No need to provoke them more than absolutely necessary.
Leaving
the locker room as a unit, they all shared a look. No one had a clue what was
going on and not a one liked it. Especially since they’d all just been told
they had three weeks leave. Which, in their minds, meant they got to leave, no
questions asked. Not good.
* * * * *
Twenty
minutes later Mikhail could not believe how fucking right he’d been. “Excuse
me, sir. I mean zero disrespect, sir, but are you off your fucking rocker?” he
asked.
His
teammates all nodded. Yeah, every single one of them had been thinking it. He
was just the craziest of the bunch to actually say it out loud. But it was part
of his rep, and he so did love to live up to his rep.
“I
wish,” the old man said. He rubbed a hand over his military regulation cut and
looked at them all.
Mik
couldn’t believe how old the Admiral looked right then. Sharing a worried look
with Marius, he shook his head. “Sir, this is crazy. I might buy that Marius
might believe in the Greek Gods, growing up as he had, but coming from you,” he
shook his head again. “I’m sorry sir, but I’m not buying it.”
“You’d
better,” a new voice said. One that was deep,
bowels of hell deep, and sent a shiver down every man’s spine.
Spinning
Mikhail stared up, yeah up, at seven and a half feet of solid muscle covered in
leather. Holy shit, where the fuck had
this guy come from?
“Olympus
by way of Athens,” the large male said. He turned his blacker than night eyes
to the Admiral. “Andrew, sorry I’m late. Had a small family matter to attend
to.”
“No
apologies needed, come on in and grab a seat. I think I’ll let you tell them
the rest of this, as they don’t seem to be taking me seriously.”
The
large man chuckled and, not kidding, Mikhail could have sworn the room actually
pitched and rolled like the deck of a battleship on high seas.
“They
are trained to believe what they can see, hear and touch, Andrew. Of course, they are not going to just take you
at your word,” the male said. He walked around them all, he was light on his
feet too, and took the seat that the
Admiral had offered.
Shooting
Marius a look, he saw the same WTF expression he was sure was on his face. The
guy was on a first name basis with the Admiral and seemed to be buying into the
same delusion, too. This would be interesting to hear.
“It’s
not a delusion, Mikhail,” the guy said. “The Greek Gods are real, all of us.”
“So,
we’re to believe you’re one?” Meirion “Saber” Jamison asked.
“Yes,”
the male told them.
“Right,”
Thomas “Brick” Gordon drawled out in his Southern manner. “Which one, just so
we keep it all straight and shit?” he asked.
The
Admiral looked like he was either going to shit himself or be sick. Not a look
one expected of a career military man
who’d been through more wars than most could lay claim to. And all on the front
lines for the most part.
“Ares,”
the male said.
“God
of War,” Stefan “Orion” Patras said softly. “Son of Zeus and Hera.”
“Bingo,”
the big male said. “Got it in one. Which, considering your heritage, I’d be
truly miffed if you hadn’t.”
Shooting
his Greek teammate a look, Mik shook his head. “Okay, I have a question, if
we’re all going to play along with this delusion.”
“It’s
no delusion and yes, the Gods are real.” Ares, or whoever the fuck he was, got
up from his chair. He pushed it out of the way and settled with his feet spread
so they were right under his shoulders.
A
flash of light and they were staring at the guy in full battle regalia. As in,
ancient armor with one hell of a big ass sword in hand, tip to the floor. Oddly
enough, the guy even seemed bigger.
And
he was walking straight toward Mik.
Standing
his ground Mikhail notched his chin up to
keep eye contact with the guy. Which was a lot harder than he’d thought now
that they guys eyes were silver swirling pools, much like a whirlpool, trying
to suck him in.
“Military
men are always the hardest to convince,” the God, or whoever he was, said. Then
he smiled, perfectly straight white teeth no less, and lifted a hand. “Let’s
see if I can’t convince you, shall we?”
Mik
would have protested, but he wasn’t quick enough. The Gods' hand landed on his shoulder and suddenly he was being torn
apart and then rebuilt molecule by molecule. He saw the beginning of the world,
Zeus’s creation of man, the “birth” of the other Gods and times in history that
even scientists and the best historians could only make educated guesses on. He
saw battlefields where the God before him was in the thick, covered in blood
and other bodily gore.
He
watched as cities burned, crumbling into dust, and civilizations fell. He
watched the march of the Roman empire across Europe and their eventual retreat.
Cities rose, fell, changed, grew and then technology began to come into sight.
Then they were back in the room, in the present and he was staring up into a
pair of swirling silver eyes.
The
hand on his shoulder squeezed before falling away. “Believe now?” the deep
voice asked softly.
Stumbling
back Mikhail groped for a chair and fell into one when it was close enough.
Shivering he couldn’t tear his eyes off the guy. “What the fuck?” he asked.
Ares
just nodded. “Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.” Another flash and he was back in his leather striding back to the
head of the table to sit down once more. “Gentlemen, sit,” he told the rest of
the team. “We have a lot to discuss and very little time.”
He
could feel the worried eyes of his teammates on him, but he couldn’t say
anything. His mind was still fighting to resolve all he’d just witnessed and
make sense of it. And he was failing miserably.
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