Thursday, March 12, 2015

Excerpt from the exotic romantic adventure FRENCH KISS – Navy SEALs of Valor 3 by Sabrina Devonshire


May 15, 2014
Paris, France
0200 hours

A woman wearing night vision goggles swept the heavy dark curtains aside and peered out the window of her Le Marais apartment. Manic laughter escaped her lips. Several uniformed men carrying bulky weapons crept around the perimeter of a two-story apartment across the street.

The American government must have deemed the Red Queen's followers to be a major threat to send DEVGRU.

The best of the best of the SEALs or not—the men didn't stand a chance. They had erroneously concluded that the Red Queen was dead and the leaderless insurgents had lost their edge.

The people who will scrape up what remains of their bodies will soon learn that I'm very much alive.

The SEAL team would raid the apartment to find it empty—well, almost empty, actually. She had planted a little gift for the American sailors that would blow them into a million bloody pieces.

She made a mock explosion sound and then laughed, thinking about her upcoming attacks that would make headlines in the next twenty-four hours.

She tugged down the hem of her tight black velvet dress, which clung to her stockings. Her blood-red stilettos clicked across the tile floor as she walked toward the marble-topped bar. She pulled a glass from a shelf above the counter, uncapped the bottles of gin and vermouth and stirred herself a strong martini, topping off the cocktail with an olive she had plucked from a jar in the small refrigerator.

She raised the glass in the air and extended her arm as if preparing to make a toast with an invisible person.

“To death,” she said in a Russian accent before tipping the clear crystal glass toward her lips. The first swallow rocketed through her bloodstream, making her feel pleasantly light-headed.

"Ahhh." She gazed into the rectangle of mirrored glass that decorated the back of the bar, admiring her reflection. Flawless white skin scrubbed smooth every morning, long dark hair that gleamed with healthy radiance from hourly daily brushing and blood red lipstick that had become her new trademark once she had started impersonating her sister. Confusing people about their two identities had played a major role in her plan's success.

They'll be so shocked tomorrow when the body count soars.

She took another deep swallow of the potent drink, relishing the way the prisms hanging from the crystal chandelier and the oil paintings in gold leaf frames appeared to bob like floating objects on the sea as she walked back to the window.

Strong drinks are so invigorating. Almost as much as blood and death. She raised her glass in the air for another toast.

0205 hours
Le Marais District
Paris, France

Crouched outside a seventeenth century duplex on Rue Charlot in Le Marais, Karl Patterson gripped his weapon tighter to secure it in his sweating palms. His night vision goggles illuminated his surroundings in eerie green hues.
Two draped statues, perched on the stone molding above the door, peered down at the observant warrior. The brass knocker on the wooden door reminded him of Scrooge's entrance in A Christmas Carol.

Karl's mind had a knack for numbers, constantly calculating, analyzing, and storing information in the recesses of his brain like a powerful computer.

The narrow street on the Seine River’s Rive Droite had been thrown into blackness the instant the DEVGRU team dismantled the street lanterns. Karl and the six other men had rigged doors and windows with explosives and waited for their highest-ranking enlisted man on the mission; Petty Officer 1st Class, Darryl Jennings, to give the order to detonate the explosives and raid the apartment.

While Karl waited, his tensed muscles ready to react in a millisecond, the cool and damp night air wrapped around him.

Temperature approximately fifty-eight degrees Fahrenheit or fourteen degrees Celsius. Humidity fifty percent plus.

A barking dog broke into the sleepy silence. The hollow, eerie sound of the lone animal echoed through the corridor of old stone buildings, all interconnected and some sheltered with awnings. Only a scanty line of thickly foliaged trees protected the men from view. Moving silently and out-of-sight was imperative. The nearby shops had been closed for hours and the unlit windows suggested the Le Marais residents were tucked away in their beds. But it only took one insomniac peering outside and shouting to blow the entire operation.

Karl glanced at his watch. Four minutes and ten seconds had passed and still he waited. His thigh muscles burned from squatting low for so long and he bit down on his lip to distract himself from the discomfort.

Karl's uniform clung to his sweaty body as if he were crouched inside an overheated sauna instead of surrounded by cool night air. His clammy palms slipped across the steel handle of his weapon and he gripped it tighter and huffed out a sustained exhale.

We're prepared for anything. He and his team had trained long and hard to face the most adverse situations. Hell, they'd raided dozens of compounds in Afghanistan and Pakistan and even rescued a journalist held hostage in Somalia. In the remote villages, they'd been hard pressed to get a sip of clean water. On more than one mission, he had battled intestinal distress as well as the enemy.

Karl thrived on the thrill of danger and uncertainty. Conquering individuals and organizations that threatened national and international security had become an obsession ever since Kelsi's death. His commitment to excellence had paid off and he'd become a vital member of a top-notch team.

Anxiety, typically a barely noticeable undercurrent reminding him not to let his guard down, short-circuited in his nervous system. For the first time ever, he experienced an emotion resembling fear. Karl wasn't a worrier. He was the thinker who analyzed and crunched numbers in his head. He disciplined his mind to tune out extraneous background noise—emotions, superstitions and intuition.

I belong here. What the fuck is wrong with me?

This March 31 release is now available for pre-order on Amazon for 2.99.


Karl Patterson and seven other SEAL Team Six men are deployed to Paris to raid a Le Marais duplex believed to be a terrorist hideout. Finding it abandoned and rigged with explosives, the sailors barely escape. After they return to their hotel anticipating a night of rest and awake to an explosion and raging inferno, Karl and his teammates realize they are one step behind the Red Queen. Not only is she still alive; she’s also hell-bent on vengeance and plans to unleash terror the city won’t soon forget. 

Journalist Jamie Phillips awakes to the sound of an explosion and rushes to the window in time to see the perpetrators fleeing from the blackened skeleton of their van. Rushing to escape engulfing flames, she nearly succumbs to the overpowering smoke and falling debris, but is suddenly rescued by a drop-dead gorgeous man she suspects is Special Forces. 

Attraction between Karl and Jamie burns hotter than the flames consuming the du Luxembourg area hotel. Karl struggles to wipe Jamie from his mind and refocus on the Team’s mission. But heading to the hospital and forgetting Karl aren’t part of Jamie’s plan. Thanks to her keen journalist observational skills, she picked up on key information that just might help SEAL Team Six stop the terrorists. 

About the Author:
Sabrina Devonshire, an avid swimmer most of her life, can usually be found near or immersed in a body of water. If she's not seeking an endorphin rush in a pool, lake or ocean, she's often encouraging people to work out or writing a romantic suspense or magazine article. 

She received a John Woods Scholarship and an Arizona Commission of the Arts Professional Development Grant toward her participation in a 2007 Prague Summer Program writing workshop. She also studied writing in Arizona and northern California and has a M.S. degree from the University of Arizona. 

Sabrina loves traveling to off-the-beaten-path places where phones and electronic devices tend not to work well. Peru and Belize are two of her favorites. Sabrina lives in southern Arizona with her husband, two children, and fluffy dog, Sugar.

No comments:

Post a Comment