TOR MADDOX 3: MISTAKEN
Eight leotards and a ball gown—that’s what Tor Maddox packed for her summer ballet intensive in New York. Pity she never arrived. Kidnapped once by the good guys and once by the bad ones, Tor finds herself involved in a high seas adventure featuring princesses and pirates, a wedding ring, and the guy she thought she’d never be allowed to see again, junior man-in-black Rick Turner.
Tor’s employee ID promises “Your Fantasy Starts Here.” It couldn’t be more mistaken.
Grab a flotation device and welcome aboard for more shenanigans, villainy, and romance.
An Excerpt From MISTAKEN:
I sank into the soft embrace of twenty-four inches of buttery, gray leather. The first class cabin was everything I’d ever dreamed. Before we even buckled, the flight attendant Jock handed me a blanket—and not one of those thin-as-a-T-shirt disposable ones from the normal people section—a real blanket.
Rick passed him the Starbucks cup he was clutching. “Can you please warm her coffee?”
“Sure thing, honey,” Jock replied. “Back in a flash.”
“Honey.” I giggled as I elbow-nudged him. “I think he meant you.”
Rick eye-locked me, his Mediterranean-blue to my plain old brown. “I know,” he whispered. “Jealous?” Amusement danced in his gaze. He was himself again.
With our heads pillowed on the dovewing leather, eyes communicating on some other level, I felt a rush of premonition, like years from now we’d be lying on a bed together backflashing this moment. I smiled at him with lips that remembered a thousand kisses that hadn’t happened yet.
Rick smiled back. “Torrance Olivia Maddox, what is going on in there?” He knuckled my forehead gently. “I’d give a million pennies for that thought.”
“Do you have a million pennies?” I honestly didn’t mean for my voice to come out as husky as it did. I knew I shouldn’t be encouraging this.
“I’ll get back to you on that,” he teased. “Can I get an answer on credit?”
“No way.” I shook my head coyly. A cocoon of intimacy spread over us like a blanket fort. Hmm. File that idea for later, much. I cozied in closer.
And then our private walls were breached with a cheerful, “Here y’are. One warm latte for the lady. And for you, sir? A complimentary cocktail before late dinner? Wine? Beer?”
“Just a ginger ale, please,” Rick replied.
As Jock moved on to row seven, I whispered, “You could have. He thought you were old enough.”
Rick raised an eyebrow. “I am.”
“Oh. You had a birthday.”
Somehow that broke the spell. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but honestly, it did. Not that he was old enough to drink, or that technically I was more than four years away from legality myself. However, this marker of maturity was more than symbolic. The time gulf couldn’t have been made plainer.
Mind the Gap, as they say on the London subways, or you’ll injure yourself, and don’t hold us responsible. We told you it was there.
What was I doing? How could I replace a real, trained agent? Was I recruited for this job only because Rick missed me? I couldn’t crush the more-than-a-smidge of doubt that this could be a huge mistake.
We weren’t just at different stations on the track of life, we were in completely different trains, chasing each other through dark tunnels. Foreboding seized my heart. Until further notice, our occasional meetings would only be collisions, with screeching brakes, shredded metal, personal injuries, and disastrous consequences.
About the Author
Liz Coley’s internationally best-selling psychological thriller Pretty Girl-13 has been published in 12 languages on 5 continents and been recognized by the American Library Association on two select lists for 2014 including Best Fiction for Young Adults.
Liz’s other publications include alternate history/time travel/romance Out of Xibalba and teen thrillers in the new Tor Maddox series. Her short fiction has appeared in Cosmos Magazine and numerous anthologies.