“Have you killed anyone?”
Swedish chemist Alina Runesson feared his answer. Men have died for her.
“Not today.” CIA
Agent Vic Grant responded callously.
Women were not part of his agenda.
It’s hard to admit they have a connection called love and
have to trust it’s not fatal.
It’s fabulous to be back on a Sunday, which means I have a
new release!
Kiss the Killer,
the second novel in the series From the
CIA is available in ebook right now.
The paperback is scheduled for July, and I will let you know what day as
soon as I find out.
I’m really excited about writing a series for several
reasons. I like to write with
multi-layered plots and a series can have a lot of sub-plots. The first novel, Inked, started in Cairo, Egypt with a lot of characters who will
appear at some point in following books, and the plots will thicken. 
Vic Grant is the first character I extracted from Inked and he has a ton of work to do in
Kiss the Killer. Not to mention that
he accidentally finds a lovely and intelligent chemist, Alina Runesson, who
batters his heart from the first chance meeting.
In addition to having
so many intriguing characters to draw from, I get to play around with many European,
Scandinavian, and Middle East countries. The different topography, customs, and habits
of the people add difficulty and surprises to the CIA agents involved.
How long will the series be?
I have a lot of agents to uncover, so the number of books is
limitless. I do have a clue as to what
will happen in the finale and which agent will be my hero. I’ve already found that “he” is a character
readers are asking to see again. My mind
can change when readers tell me what they’re interested in, so it’s always
great to hear from you!
Leave a comment or
question and win a copy of Kiss the Killer (From the CIA 2) in
ebook format!
I can be found at:
bookstrand.com/kiss-the-killer
Coming soon to: Amazon.com/kiss-the-killer
Barnes and Noble
dawnkunda.com
For your reading pleasure…An excerpt.
Alina wanted to scratch
herself or feel pain in a subtle way to tell her she wasn’t involved in an espionage
or thriller movie. [MHM1] Her
surroundings held no familiarity, even less than her new home, and this relaxed
man sitting within arm’s reach was planning to act on a script six feet deep
with terrorism, government leaders, and what sounded like it could turn into an
all-out war between nations.
She felt her heart
thumping against its space under the ribs and silently beseeched it to hang in
there and not cause her to flop to the floor in an active heart attack. To
think the one day she went out of her safe zone, which mostly included her new
house and a few necessity stores, she runs into some type of agent, maybe a
spy, or who knew what else he hadn’t revealed yet. Were all men who went out
for a bite to eat connected to a world she barely had an inkling that it
existed, and she’d never played a role in? Was a seduction the first play of
the game every time? Did they all have big guns, a controlling manner, and a
powerful body to sway them into their bed? It had been her bed, so he must be
even better at it than most, if she was right.
“…Shehata will get us
into Iraq with an escort.”
She’d missed the first
part of his explanation as her mind reviewed how she ended up sitting across
from this…man who has international connections. Was he some kind of spy, or
undercover agent? He mentioned the CIA. Really? “Can you repeat the last part?”
She needed to know the plan because there was no way she would accompany this
man along with Egyptian guards to terrorism at its finest. She’d cooperate, and
then find a way out to do it on her own.
“Why don’t I retell you
in the morning when you’ve rested? Four-thirty.”
He probably thought she
was too tired and stressed to listen. That would work for her. “You’re right.
I’m having a hard time focusing. I’m sure your plan is good and will work.” She
honored him with a meeting of the eyes and saw a fatigued droop to his eyelids,
yet a spark of energy ignited somewhere deep inside. He meant whatever he had
said and she was sure he’d take her on this mission with a definite resolve to
get work done. Maybe he was using her for something bigger.
He bent over to pick up
her cup. His sleeves had been pushed up his arm at some point. Muscles pulsed
and changed shape along his forearm, for God’s sake. That brought her straight
back to their first night. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to appreciate the
perfection of his form. Without clothes on, it only got better. His
organizational skills and energy made a cool drink on a hot day a paltry excuse
for relief.
If he wasn’t a madman
with an ulterior motive to use her, he equaled perfection. This reminder came
like a Novocain shot to the mouth. She’d have none of that in her life again.
She’d run fast and far to avoid another dance with the perfect. Once was enough
and perfection would never last a lifetime.
His back faced her and
exposed his slightly loose jeans forming to the muscles on his thighs. He
turned his torso to speak to her. “Your room is at the end of the hall. I’m
sure you won’t have a problem finding it.”
“Right. No problem.”
Down the hall with her
bag in tow, she stepped into the room. Her glance lasted a few seconds and
covered anything worth noting. The bed looked unused with the blanket stretched
tight to all four corners. She wasn’t sure the thin material would weather the
drafty feel in the back of the apartment. Wearing clothes would be helpful plus
she could get up and leave if the mood struck her.
She had wisely packed a
pair of pajamas complete with line drawings of scattered sheep. Llamas hadn’t
been in vogue during her minimalistic shopping trip. Dressing in farm animals
would definitely keep Vic uninterested. She had mainly bought them because they
appealed to her at the time. Normally, she wore nothing to bed. She had always
liked the feel of clean sheets against her skin, but not tonight and not until
she was home alone again.
She calculated their time
away in accordance with the week the veterinarian had promised to watch Gerty.
Getting Christa home in a week would be victory in her mental healing, and she
looked forward to returning to the quiet and stable life of a scientist alone
with her compounds. This nearly pleasant thinking could give her a successful
start at a few hours of sleep.
No one would chase her.
No one would find her. No one would kill her.
Happy Summer Reading,
Dawn
