Release date: February 29, 2016
All’s fair in love and war when specialist Jane Larson and Captain Barnaby Blackstone give into their lust for each other while stationed in Vietnam. As the world disintegrates around them, their one night of passion ends with her evacuation back to stateside duty.
Years later, Jane is neck deep in an undercover DEA operation gone horribly wrong. Kidnapped and then committed to an asylum, she has no hope of escape from the clutches of a notorious cult leader. The only thing that sustains her through the pain is her memories of Barnaby—even as she knows she’ll never be with him again.
Little does she realize that Barnaby has spent several of his years as an immortal, Indebted killer yearning for the fierce and beautiful woman who had unlocked hope in his cold, hard soul. When his sixth sense leads him to her hospital room, he sets her free, but in the process attracts the attention of an otherworldly maniac intent on revenge. To save Jane from the dark forces surrounding her, Barnaby must reveal his deepest secret. Can she live with the man he’s destined to be, or will the truth leave her lost to him forever?
by Jillian David
Sensuality Level: Sensual
Jillian David writes, daydreams, and duct tapes people back together. Drive to the end of the Earth, then keep going for another hour, and you’ll arrive at her home.
An excerpt from Flame’s Dawn:
Barnaby flinched at another pulse of mental warning. His preternatural instincts had gone plumb off the charts, with all needles on the dial pointing directly to the tall rectangular building before him. The U.S. embassy’s exoskeleton, like shadowy honeycombs, covered all but the first floor of the building. The outer wall, with its concrete waffle squares lined up side by side to create a ten-foot-high barrier around the building, protected the exposed windows of the embassy’s first floor.
Solid. Guarded. Safest place in all of Vietnam.
So why did his sixth sense urge him to return here tonight?
Flashing his credentials, he passed through the main gate and then between two Marine MPs at the side door. He yanked the warm metal handle and tapped his shiny shoes down a linoleum floor and into a marginally cooler office.
Inside, the rhythmic drone of the anemic fan did little to improve the sweltering evening air.
Unlike the aqua-blue eyes staring back at him from a desk near the back of the large office. Cool, clear, her gaze felt like swimming in a refreshing ocean. He paused, half expecting to hear waves and seagulls. The temperature on his warm brow dropped ten degrees.
His libido cranked up the heat elsewhere.
Communications specialist Jane Larsen had recently transferred to the U.S. Embassy, after getting ejected from Satan’s arse, Khe Sanh. Right after that first horrible attack, the army had yanked her the hell out of there. Since then, Khe Sanh had been blasted halfway to perdition. God’s teeth, what was any woman, much less this lovely, soft-spoken angel, doing up near the DMZ?
Rumor had it, she’d volunteered for communications duty up there. Had to be more to the story. The army didn’t station women that close to the fighting unless there was a damned good reason. Maybe that reason had to do with the little steno book of Vietnamese and English scribbles that stayed at her side. When she wasn’t relaying communications data, she kept the headphones on, bent her head, and jotted down notes in the book.
The CIA’s intelligence boys had dropped in far too frequently since she’d arrived at the embassy. Maybe the intel guys’ interest had little to do with reports about Charlie’s movements and more to do with their need to get their foot in the door with a certain pretty specialist. A growl formed in Barnaby’s chest. Those bastards had better keep their interests professional where Jane was concerned.
Or what? She was free to make her own choices. Barnaby had nothing to offer her other than a good tupping. A sweet woman like Jane deserved much more.