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A former SAS soldier is entangled in a gripping tale of murder, betrayal and revenge in this action-packed stand-alone from the world's bestselling thriller writer.

From the author of Sunday Times no. 1 bestseller, The President is Missing.
MURDER

Former SAS soldier David Shelley was part of the most covert operations team in the special forces. Now settling down to civilian life in London, he has plans for a safer and more stable existence. But the shocking death of a young woman Shelley once helped protect puts those plans on hold.

BETRAYAL

The police rule the death a suicide but the grieving parents can't accept their beloved Emma would take her own life. They need to find out what really happened, and they turn to their former bodyguard, Shelley, for help.

REVENGE

When they discover that Emma had fallen into a dark and seedy world of drugs and online pornography, the father demands retribution.

But his desire for revenge will make enemies of people that even Shelley may not be able to protect them from, and take them into a war from which there may be no escape.

Formats & editions

  • Hardback

    9781780899152

    September 15, 2018

    Century

    384 pages

    RRP $55.00

    Online retailers

    • Fishpond
    • Mighty Ape
    • Paper Plus
    • The Warehouse
    • Whitcoulls
    • The Nile
    Or

    Find your local bookstore at www.booksellers.co.nz/directory

  • Trade Paperback

    9781780899169

    September 3, 2018

    Century

    384 pages

    RRP $37.00

    Online retailers

    • Fishpond
    • Mighty Ape
    • Paper Plus
    • The Warehouse
    • Whitcoulls
    • The Nile
    Or

    Find your local bookstore at www.booksellers.co.nz/directory

  • EBook

    9781473560741

    August 23, 2018

    Cornerstone Digital

    384 pages

    Online retailers

    • iBooks NZ
    • Amazon Kindle
    • Google Play
    • Kobo
    • Booktopia NZ

Extract

Prologue

She locked the door, double-checked the gun was in place and took up position on the bed, drawing the laptop towards her, ready for her next customer.

She sat with her legs folded beneath her, wearing an off-white vest top and short denim skirt. Her lips were dark crimson, cheeks thick with blusher. And as she regarded herself in the tiny communication window of the laptop – dispassionately, as though it were some other twenty-four-year-old staring back at her – she remembered a time when she wouldn’t have dreamed of slathering on the make-up. Not unless it was for a student fancy-dress party. Rocky Horror theme, tarts and vicars, something like that. Uh, gross, she’d have said. How obvious.

But those days were history. She didn’t go to fancy-dress parties any more. Although she often invited men ‘to party’.

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