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.
Liz invites you to follow her as LizColeyBooks on
Twitter,
Instagram,
Goodreads, and
Facebook, and visit her website at
LizColey.com.
