xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Kryssie Fortune: Who would win? Navy SEALs or US Marines? #soldiers #romance #heroes

Thursday, 27 April 2017

Who would win? Navy SEALs or US Marines? #soldiers #romance #heroes

While writing my Heroes of Westhorpe Ridge Series I learned how truly tough these soldiers are. I couldn't respect them more, but if they went head to head, who'd come out on top. Not that I think they ever would.
I found this on You Tube and had to share.
It's only one opinion of, course.
I have great news to share.
The lovely people at Loose id have released my three stand alone romances in one box set. Not only is it convenient, but you can save over $3 by buying the box set.
These action packed romances tell of kidnappings, spy rings, and arsonists, all set in the North Carolina Town of Westhorpe Ridge.

Marriage, Mobsters, and the Marine -  Abigail advertises for a husband, but can her marriage of conveyance turn into a love match?

Sex, Scandal, and the Sheriff   - Sean enjoys a one-night stand with Jazz, but can love blossom after he accused her of being a spy

Desire, Deceit, and the Doctor  - Can love blossom second time around for Mandy after Adam betrayed her? And how will he react when she tells him he has a son?
Buy links
Amazon UK    http://amzn.to/2pCuPwU
Loose id       http://bit.ly/2oLIfIz
Kobo            http://bit.ly/2onhEPn
Barnes and Noble  http://bit.ly/2oGfGsq

Extract from Marriage, Mobsters, and the Marine

The engine stopped, and she heard a car door slam. She needed out of the trunk, but no one came for her. What if they abandon the car and leave me? I don’t want to die trussed up in a car trunk. A fresh wave of fear washed through her, along with a spike of adrenaline. Her body trembled, but time slowed and her thoughts cleared. She needed to take things one step at a time.
Step one—get her arms free. She wriggled around, hoping the rough ride had dislodged something she could use to cut the rope. Bingo. Her fingers touched a metal box. Maybe it held tools or a knife. She almost wept when she couldn’t open it. The hinge stuck out from the box, so she twisted some more, running the rope against the hinge. Periodically, she stopped and tensed her wrists in an attempt to pull the nylon strands apart.
She’d no idea how long she worked at her bonds. It seemed like hours until the rope finally gave way. Relieved tears filled her eyes. Rather than rub her wrists, she tugged off the hood and pulled the gag from her mouth. She’d never been so thirsty. She’d give anything for a cold beer right now.
Step two—find the release mechanism the law said every car should have in the trunk. She felt claustrophobic, so scared she could barely move, but she forced herself to concentrate. There, in the corner, a glow-in-the-dark lever beckoned. Wriggling like a maggot in a fisherman’s box, she kicked it for all she was worth, and the trunk lid popped open.
The air smelled wonderful, if slightly musty, but silence and utter darkness surrounded her. She listened a while, decided her captors had left, and slipped out the trunk. No lights shone through the darkness. Using her hands rather than her eyes, she found a lug wrench and flashlight alongside the spare tire beneath the space she’d just escaped. She grabbed both, quietly shut the trunk, and headed into the darkness.

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