Author: Bailey Quinn
Genre: Detective/Mystery crime
Release Date: June 24th, 2016
Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing
From the moment Detective Scarlet Anne Martins steps into that prison, her heart begins to take over her head. Unable to deny her feelings for Alaric any longer, her desperation to save him will ultimately be what will kill them both. For a super cop, her judgement in men has truly failed her. And if matters of the heart weren’t distracting enough, she has to survive the next twenty-four hours without killing someone. Finding herself a fugitive in a foreign country, she has to rely on her charming personality, which she has long since learned to turn on when needed. But with her distinctive South African accent, and stunning good looks, she is at risk of being turned in to the authorities at any moment. With nowhere to run, she has no alternative but to face the peril head on, and ensnare the evil that is chasing her down. But with so few resources, the only way to do that is to give them exactly what they want – herself.
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About the Author:
Bailey Quinn is a pen name Carlyle Labuschagne writes her crime fiction under, she is an South African award wining author, with a flair for mixing genres and adding loads of drama to every story she creates. For now she is happy to take over the world and convert non Sci-fi believers. Her goal as an author is to touch people’s lives, and help others love their differences and one another by delivering strong messages of faith, love and hope within each world she writes about. “I love to swim, fight for the trees, and am a food lover who is driven by my passion for life. I dream that one day my stories will change the lives of countless teenagers and have them obsess over the world literacy can offer them instead of worrying about fitting in. Never sacrifice who you are, its in the dark times that the light comes to life.” Carlyle used writing as a healing tool and that is why she started her very own writers support event – SAIR – “To be a helping hand for those who strive to become full times writers, editors, bloggers, readers and cover artists – its a crazy world out there you don't have to go it alone!”
Friday Night—New York City
WHENEVER DETECTIVE MARTINS ENTERED an interrogation room, the suspect’s reactions were always the same. First, the look of utter confusion clouded their condescending expressions, brows furrowed so tight it cast dark, ugly shadows across their faces. But when the detective took a seat, her slim legs crossing neatly over each other, and the name above her shiny, golden badge finally readable, their looks fleetingly morphed from shock to relief, finally settling into something resembling smugness. Female cops, she reckoned, were treated with the same disrespect in any country.
Laying her South African accent on real thick, she talked painfully slow in case they couldn’t understand her. “So, let’s get this over with right now.” Detective Scarlet Anne Martins, better known to her loved ones as Sam—derived from her initials—smiled slightly while she spoke. Her hands calmly opened out over the worn-out case file. Looking up, her big green eyes met the suspect’s only briefly. “Yes, I am a woman and yes, I am extremely good looking, but don’t for one second think that your ‘bad boy’”—her fingers mockingly made quotation marks in the air—“behavior is in any way attractive.”
Scarlet flashed him a brilliant red, glossy, sarcastic smile with the cocky tilt of her head. “I am here to put you behind bars, so don’t let the package throw you. The fact that I even found you after your case had been labelled ‘cold’, should be an indication as to how tenacious I truly am at nailing scum like you.”
But the suspect still looked at her from behind a patronizing gaze. She thought back to what the captain had said to the chief of police on her first day at NYPD: “Women can act tough, but they break easily.”
Detective Martins stared past the unsuspecting man into the mirror, lifting her chin, a daring smile creeping across her gorgeous face. “Seven days.” She held her fingers up, placing a bet to her squad members watching from behind the glass wall.
“For what?” The suspect laced his nervous fingers together on the table before him.
“Until I put you out of your misery.” Her penetrating gaze meeting his full-on, a promise she intended to deliver on.
“Is that a threat, Detective Martins?” The perp’s lawyer pushed the tape recorder an inch closer in her direction, eager to catch her on some technicality that might set his client free.
In his eyes, she could see every thought that crossed his mind. She knew that he knew she either had or was on the brink of having something concrete on his client.
The lawyer scrutinized the detective, fully aware of her reputation to close cases such as the one he sat with now. Her devilish stunning looks part of what made her infallible, paired with her take-no-prisoners attitude, it could knock any man off course, even the best of criminal minds.
“No, Mr. Workman,” Scarlet smiled politely at the lawyer, “it is simply a warning to Mr. Rogers here to get his family affairs in order before I throw him behind bars for good. If he has any respect for himself and that of his loved ones, he will go gracefully. Or, I will take down each and every one who stands in my way, including his wives and children for having concealed him for so long.”
Mario Rogers shifted uncomfortably in his seat. How could she possibly know about his other families? He struggled to keep his composure, forcing spite into his words, as well as keeping cool and controlled. “They never got me the first time around, sweetheart, what makes you think there is anything you can pin on me after so many years?” he snickered.
“There is simply not enough evidence against my client, detective,” his lawyer interjected.
Scarlet could tell he was pulling out anything at this point to throw her off her game, hoping he could rile her up, thereby making her lose focus. He wanted her to slip up, save him losing face in front of such a high profile client as the ‘retired’ organized crime boss.
Calmly, Detective Martins stood and took a step back from the metal table, folding the excessive paper file between her crossed-over arms. “That’s what they all say.” Smirking, heels clicking and hips swinging with sexy conviction, she exited the interrogation room.