In the explosive new Hitman novel from the bestselling
authors of Last Kiss and Last Hit a jungle mercenary and a female target find love on the run...
LAST HOPE IS NOW LIVE!
Blurb
Ava: Karma hates me. When my best friend Rose is kidnapped,
I have no choice but to take a job as a mule for a pair of criminals intent on
selling top-secret information to the highest bidder. I should have known that
bad luck tends to cling, because the plane I'm on goes down. That I survived a
crash-landing was a miracle. And so was being rescued by Rafe Mendoza—hot,
sexy, dangerous. The thing is, he wants the information that I need to free
Rose. I can't let him have it, but I need his help. And I need to fight this
crazy attraction for this mercenary with hungry eyes. Rose is depending on me,
and I won't let her down, no matter how appealing Rafe is.
LAST HOPE EXCERPT (New to Tour)
The ricochet of the bullet has swollen my eye shut. I might
be slightly concussed from the free fall from six thousand feet into the
jungle. I’ve no clue where we are and we have no supplies, but I’ve never been
happier than when Ava stuck her tits into my face. Those babies felt like the
softest pillows ever created and I would’ve been happy to suffocate in damp
valley of cleavage. Maybe I’d even get the chance to lick her sweat away.
I might have groaned and pretended my injury was worse to
lengthen the moment. Her delicate hands smoothed over my forehead and, it may
have been my imagination, but it seemed liked she might’ve lingered over my
hair. Dig in, I want to grunt.
“What the heck is that sound?” Ava clutches me to her.
If I don’t answer, does that mean I can stay in this
position forever? Because I want to. Actually, no, I’d like to move over and
suck one fat tit into my mouth until it’s hard as a diamond. Then I’d like to
slide down until my mouth is level with her pussy and see how salty sweet she
tastes between her legs. The beast between my legs roars to life and it’s a
good thing that the monkeys above us scream again, causing her to jump and
strike my good eye with her elbow. The pain serves as a reminder of where we
are, who I am, and what the fuck I should be paying attention to.
“It’s the howler monkey. They sound like humans screaming or
sometimes like the jaguar. They’re kind of dumb and if we found Afonso’s gun,
we’d be able to kill one and have meat every night for a week.”
She shudders. “I don’t want to eat monkey.”
The jungle is hot and wet during the day and cold at night.
If the mosquitos don’t eat you alive, the jaguars and anacondas might. Not very
many people can crash-land into the middle of the Amazon and make it out alive,
but I’m upping our odds from around 20 percent to 50 percent based on Ava’s
positive attitude. Unless my eye heals up, I’m not giving us more than that. If
we could find the Boy Scout bag, though, we could bring our odds up significantly.
“There’s plenty of food in the Amazon from plantains to
fish, so if you don’t like monkey, we won’t eat it.”
She shudders again. “Thank you.”
“You a vegetarian?”
No, that couldn’t be right. Didn’t she eat some prosciutto
at the café? But I want to hear it from her. I want to know everything about
her.
“No, but for some reason eating something that screams like
a human freaks me out.”
“Monkey is off the menu,” I say, making no attempt to move
away from her rack. “I have a knife in my belt.”
“Do you have anything else besides the knife?” she asks. Her
tone is accusatory like I’m holding out on her.
“No,” I say slowly. “Just the knife.”
She narrows her eyes and then reaches out with her good hand
and pokes my waistline. “What about that?”
“My pants? I don’t think that they’d fit you or they’d be a
good weapon. Besides, I’d rather my legs didn’t get eaten by mosquitos.”
“Look, if you just plan on leaving me behind, then do it
now. Don’t string me along.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Just my luck to
perv on a crazy woman.
“That!” she spits out, and this time her finger jabs lower,
right into the meat of my dick. I flinch back. “I can tell you’re packing
something. What’s that thing in your pocket?”
“None of your fucking business,” I growl out, my happy
feeling sucked away. I can feel the heat rising in my face that has nothing to
do with the humidity. I will my erection to subside but as she stares at it, it
does nothing but grow.
“Oh my god. Is that a . . . that’s not a gun, is it?” Her
lips part in shock.
“No.” The erection isn’t going to go down anytime soon. Not
with her eyes wide with wonder. She raises her gaze to me and then drops back
down again, and hell if she doesn’t lick her fucking lips. I turn away, unzip,
and then pull the shaft straight up behind the waistband of my cargo pants. I
fasten the zipper, carefully, and then pull my T-shirt down over the top. It
hides most of the problem. “Let’s go.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.
I surge to my feet, catching her off guard. She stumbles
back and thankfully stops staring at my junk. “Enough,” I growl more roughly
than I intend. “We have important things to concentrate on, like where are we
going to sleep for the night.”
She looks stricken and nods in agreement. “Sorry, I just was
taken by surprise. You don’t have to tell me what’s in your pocket if you don’t
want to. But I need to remind you that we’re in this together.”
I feel like an ass. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry
that she thinks my dick is fake. That’s a new one.
LAST HOPE EXCERPT (Previously Posted)
Ava
I wake up with my face pressed against a warm, broad chest
and my legs tangled in the leaves of a tree. Somewhere close by, I hear birds
chirping. There’s sunlight dappling my face and everything feels damp.
Everything also hurts.
I’m dazed and my head is ringing with pain, and the sun is
beaming right into my eyes, which is freaking annoying as hell. I rub a hand
across my face and it takes me a few moments to realize that I shouldn’t see
the sun at all if I’m inside an airplane.
Then I remember the storm. The thunderous boom as the plane
was hit by lightning. Screams. The wing catching fire. The chaos of Afonso with
his gun. Free-falling through the cabin, my grip on the seats the only thing
keeping me from flying through six thousand feet of empty air.
I remember him, too.
A noise from somewhere nearby catches my attention. It
sounds like heavy breathing. I open my eyes and look around.
I’m still strapped to my seat. There’s a portion of the
plane underneath me, and the two seats Mendoza and I buckled into are still
together.
He’s next to me, the broad chest I’m currently draped
across. His eyes are closed, dried, crusted blood around the injured one. He’s
got an enormous bruise on his forehead and his arms are around me, as if he was
trying to protect me even as we fell.
“Mendoza
But . . . I’m alive. I sit up a bit straighter and look at
my right arm. The purse I’ve carried for days is gone. The skin is puffy and
turning purple. When I flex my fingers, the pain brings tears to my eyes. I
look away from it, faint and sick to my stomach at the sight. It’s not just the
pain but what it represents. I’m a hand model. I can’t do a thing if my hands
are jacked up.
Not that it matters right now.
“Mendoza
He doesn’t stir.
Fear clutches me, and I grab his shirt with my good hand and
give him a shake. “Mendoza
That doesn’t wake him, either. I press my cheek to his chest
and listen for a heartbeat.
It’s slow and steady. Whew. I sit up and examine him again.
The knot on his forehead is huge. Maybe he just got knocked out. I’ll have to
figure out how to wake him up once I figure out where we are. It looks like our
section of the plane somehow separated from the rest of the wreckage, which is
why we’re alive and not a skidmark on the ground.
I shift in my seat and the world tilts. My eyes go wide and
I freeze in place, then look around.
I can see trees overhead, and sunshine, but it’s just now
occurred to me that we’re not on the ground. The chairs are tilted and
everything shakes when I move.
I’m pretty sure we’re in a tree. Clutching at the arm of the
chair, I sit up carefully and look around.
I see nothing but air and leaves, green vines and dappled
shadows. In the distance, I hear the sound like heavy breathing again. I look
at Mendoza
It’s like the wreckage has been swallowed up by a wall of
green. Green and wet. On the jungle floor, there’s more greenery and what looks
like smoking wreckage. Pieces of the plane are scattered all over the forest
floor, along with a few scattered suitcases. In the distance I see another row
of chairs, this one facedown in the dirt. The heavy breathing starts again, and
this time I see the source: a jaguar, stalking through the wreckage.
My eyes widen and I go very still.
A heavy rain begins to fall, spattering me from above. I
don’t move. My gaze is on that jungle cat as it sniffs through things. If it
notices us, I don’t know what we’ll do. Mendoza
The situation hits me and I start to cry. I’m alone. I’m
really fucking alone. I’ve never camped a day in my life, much less been in a
jungle. I look down at my hands. They’re my livelihood. My way to earn a
living. My income depends on them being soft and perfect, my nails elegant
ovals.
I have a long gouge down the back of one hand, and my pinky
is bruised and swollen. My wrist looks like an elephant’s leg, if elephants
were black and blue. Not gonna be hand modeling for a long while after I get
out of here.
If I get out of here.
I’m sorry, Rose. I’m trying. I’m trying so hard. I shudder
back a sob as the cat slinks into the underbrush, something dangling and
arm-sized in its mouth. I’m in the jungle with a busted hand and a stranger
that just wants the information I’m carrying . . .
And I don’t even have the information anymore. The purse is
gone. I sniff hard, trying to fight back another sob that’s threatening to
break free.
“Don’t cry,” a voice says softly.
I turn and look at Mendoza
Review
Review by: Jennifer
(5 stars)
So this series has been one big hit for me. I started the first, Last Hit, for one and only reason, Jen Frederick. I have loved everything she has written and she has yet to disappoint me.
Rafe is a trained killer, trained by the U.S. government, no longer on active duty, him and his team are... contractors of a sort. They go in, do the job and get out, easy as that. Until the one job that involves Ava. Ava, who is being used and only doing this as a way to keep her best friend alive. Rafe sees more to Ava then just meets the eye. As these things do, a simple job turns into an adventure that had me giggling; Ava is a sassy thing and wasn't afraid to let Rafe know it, lol.
Rafe is damaged from his childhood, and seriously who wouldn't be with a mother like his. And he is feeling like he doesn't deserve anything. Will Ava show him the way or will they go their separate ways when the mission is over?
This was the perfect blend of drama, danger, and sex. I give this 5 stars.
Hitman Series Reading Order
Last Hit (Book 1)
Last Breath (Book 2)
Last Hit: Reloaded (Book 2.5)
Last Kiss (Book 3)
Last Hope (Book 4)
Meet Jen & Jessica
Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one
rambunctious dog. She's been reading stories all her life but never
imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a
line at jensfrederick@gmail.com.
Author Jessica Claire
Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood.
She reads all the 'naughty parts' of books first, looks for a dirty joke in
just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the
Prairie books should have been steamier.
After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology
books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own -
stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations.
She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she
loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed
together.
GIVEAWAY
$100 Visa Gift Card
Thank you for the review!
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