New Release ~ Pivotal Decisions ~ by ~ Reily Garrett

Title: Pivotal Decisions
Series: Moonlight and Murder
Author: Reily Garrett
Genre: Romantic Thriller
Release Date: March 22, 2020

She carries a gun for a living… 

yet never expected to become a target.
 
Sabine’s early morning hike ends with discovering her friend sitting in a chair by the canal and gazing at the sunrise. Peace and serenity pervade. 
 
Except, he’s dead.
 
To discover the how and why of his murder, she must first survive the shrewd killer intent on removing human collateral and obtaining unique technology that could change the course of mankind.
 
Coyote Waylin hasn’t set foot in the Everglades for six years, not since the night he broke his brother’s jaw and saved their sister’s life. After receiving a desperate call from his sibling, he rushes south to untangle a web of murder and intrigue.
 
Together, Coyote and Sabine sort the snarled web of lies and deceit while struggling to maintain their personal space. Failure to thwart the ingenious killer could result in untraceable mass murders spanning the continents.
 


Prologue
Death, like reality, comes in layers.He was a scientist. Confidence and conviction in facts with distinct slices of possibilities for future endeavors kept him focused and thinking forward.

To delve into the mind and alter the truth as one knew it, everything they touched, heard, saw, and perceived, was his bailiwick. The realm he’d perfected.

Yet at the moment, confusion submersed him in a world he didn’t recognize. Scenes flashed not just before his eyes, but encompassed his entire existence and touched every sense. How could he discern reality from illusion?

He remembered sitting at his desk in his home away from home. Then a noise. A flash of pain in his head. Someone laughed as they threatened him, demanding his precious work. They spoke with ruthless assurance as they penned a note and stuck it to his chest.

Yet he wasn’t dying, nor did he feel the impending doom of a gun to his head.

What he did feel was the briefest flicker of pain flashing through both lower legs before dissolving into thousands of pins-and-needles sensations. Warmth flooded his brain, followed by a tranquilizing calm soothing his anxiety. Wasn’t that his area of expertise?

Muddled and conflicting sensations diminished with the tingling heat spreading throughout his chest and permitted a deep breath. Phantom shadows of panic receded to the periphery of his thoughts, pushed out by increasing perceptions of rightness that shouldn’t exist in his world.

His mind struggled to remember what he’d intended to do. He’d intended to remove his VR goggles to make an adjustment, hadn’t he? Then why did the softness of his mattress beneath his thighs feel so right? He didn’t have a bedroom in his satellite office.

His feet weren’t chilled from the cool tile floor, nor did he recognize the setting from his bedroom window.

He lived in a modest contemporary rancher with his wife, newlyweds of less than a year. Their cozy structure was surrounded by two acres of St. Augustine Grass. The closest neighbor enjoyed a Spanish Revival house with a low-pitched tile roof, half-round arched doors, and windows with adobe brick.

He saw none of it.

Instead, miles of beautiful flowerbeds with blooms that shouldn’t appear in December sprawled over lush hills, another topographical feature absent from southern Florida. Despite conflicting perceptions, he couldn’t muster the energy to tear his gaze away. Inability to turn his head soon lost meaning in the wake of the bouquet of scents wafting through the open window.

He knew the soft, sweet taste of each blossom as if they rested on his tongue, sweet with a tinge of some exotic spice. Bird song encouraged him to linger and ignore unpleasant sensations of forced immobility. There existed no obvious reason to move or feel concern.

A slight breeze ruffled his hair, its warmth another source of soothing calm. He hadn’t been wearing his glasses, yet could see flowers glistening with morning dew in crystal clarity, the fine stamens stark against the velvety texture of each petal. The pad of each fingertip tingled with their softness despite the distance that lay between him and the outdoors.

Every cell of his body felt cocooned in a warm fuzzy blanket.

Nirvana was confirmed as his mind flashed to a different landscape, yet it didn’t appear to be a dream. Everything felt so vivid, so real.

Before him, the soft ocean surf lapped at his feet, the sand warm between his toes and the gentle susurration a colorful melody. Pungent scents of salt and copper filled his nostrils and he briefly held his breath until it passed. Calm, balmy breezes whispered through nearby feathery palms and whisked the unpleasant aromas away.

If he died and was lucky enough to see pearly gates, this was where he wanted to stay. Life’s concerns drifted on a sea of contented bliss.

He briefly closed his eyes in ecstasy. The sudden spray of salt water against his cheek snapped them open to look over the deck of a large ship. The rolling motion forced him to grab the railing to either side of him and clutch tight. Knowledge that there should only be one rail before him didn’t prevent his grasp for dear life.

Something tugged against his legs and belly. He thought to rub it then decided it unnecessary as his spirit drifted above the beauty of roiling seas below him.

A peculiar numbness infiltrated his lower legs, followed by a lightheadedness not overcome by the pleasant tingling at the base of his skull. He rarely felt the bite of cold under his skin in southern Florida.

Perhaps he’d take a nap and let the strange sensations pass.

 

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Release Tour ~ Bound By Shadows ~ by ~ Reily Garrett

Title: Bound by Shadows
Series: The McAllister Justice Series
Author: Reily Garrett
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: November 12, 2017 

 


 

The architect of fear employs many forms.
Kidnapping and murder never crossed Kaylee’s mind when seeking a fresh start in Portland, a new beginning to shed the remnants of tragedy dogging her steps. After escaping from an underground cage, she fights to stay one step ahead of the killer bent on silencing his only witness. Kaylee.
Two months after dodging a sociopathic murderer’s best efforts, Caden McAllister flounders within a social sink hole, unable to move forward, too stubborn to step back. Guarded and wary, the private investigator’s stagnant lifestyle detonates into chaos when a battered and bloody young waif stumbles into his care.
Framed for a murdering a past lover, Caden must clear his name and overcome his charge’s doubts while keeping her out of the sex-slave trade. When betrayal ends with Kaylee’s re-capture, Caden must conquer his past and risk all or lose the one he has come to love.

 

Murder, mystery, underground tunnels, and romance are intertwined in this standalone romantic thriller, the second installment of the McAllister Justice Series.

 


Confusion and pain intertwined to delay Kaylee’s escape from the depths of a nightmare. Her subconscious’ attempt to alert her to some horror or another had been common the past two years, but this time the warning came with physical characteristics she couldn’t ignore.

The pain was an unwelcome element for which she could not account.

Cozy flannel sheets had never felt so rough under her cheek, nor had her head ached from a glass of wine. Despite the tomboy tag since adolescence, she appreciated certain creature comforts. The rough material scratching her face didn’t number among them.

A quiet foreboding swelled within that fuzzy twilight between the dream state and the hazy stages of surfing to consciousness. Sleep would be welcome if not for the musty odor and an undefined menace crowding her mind. Her brow furrowed as her pulse increased, awareness mounting with each painful throb.

Why is there dirt in my bed and what the hell is wrong with this mattress?

With each erratic contraction of her heart, the tension in her head increased, ratcheting like the shell around a drumhead until pain reverberated along every nerve. In grim anticipation, she reached to touch her temple. A crusty line of fibrous, threadlike strands crumbled in her brow line and snaked down to her ear.

Blood? What the hell?

Moving back to Portland had entailed a certain degree of compromise, yet shouldn’t include a cotton-mouth morning. This was too much. A light finger-comb revealed a large tangled knot and a painful lump over her ear.

Did I fall off the mattress and hit my head?

“Hey, kid. Wake up, damn it. Hurry.”

The harsh whisper embodied urgency and desperation that replicated and swelled within her chest.

What the fuck? The voice in her head wasn’t her own. Enlightenment would come after punching through the suffocating fog and fully emerging in the suddenly hostile world. Stabbing pain accompanied the dingy light spearing her eyes after cautiously lifting one lid.

A blur of flashbacks included sitting in an outdoor riverfront café enjoying the sunset with her favorite camera nestled in her lap. Snapping the riot of colors slipping into the ocean had equaled the day’s highpoint, nature’s way of assuring her she’d made the right decision in moving to Portland.

Now, for reasons evading memory, her gaze soft-focused on a scene defying logic.

“Kid, open your eyes before it’s too late. Grab the small rock by your head. Hide it behind you.”

Okaaay, evil mini me is crazy, and I will never drink wine again.

Five minutes of silence would help her collect her thoughts and allow time to search her virtual portfolio for whatever was causing the nausea-producing pests in her brain and stomach. Each vied for the position of top party host. Intuition whispered taking that time would be her undoing.

Instead of the distant hustle and bustle of city life swarming her senses, Kaylee found the intense quiet more disturbing than the harsh whisper. “Wait…what rock?”

Fragments of her surroundings wavered in and out of focus. Brick walls smeared with dirt were partially visible through the horizontal bars.

Horizontal bars?

She reached with shaking fingers to touch the rusted metal cylinders then tried to rattle them. They didn’t budge. A cramp in her thigh from resting in a semi-fetal position grew in intensity while her feet crowded against hard, cylindrical surfaces and prevented her from stretching out.

More bars.

She didn’t have the strength to yell.

The quick, indrawn breath was also not her own. “C’mon you stupid kid. Knock that off, or we’re both dead.”

A shower of dirt sprinkling her face and hair made her cough, the resultant sandy inhalation perpetuating the cycle.

The collaborative dream, having taken a southern turn into hell, brought another wave of anxiety along with nausea. Each of her senses plunged deeper into a dark abyss, taking logic and rational thought through a twisted, interactive roller-coaster ride.

Disorientation, chaos, and the first stirrings of panic took root like a well-fertilized seed that sent its growing tendrils sliding deep within the earth.

Loose dirt and small rocks covered the hard base and abraded her shoulder as she moved to a cramped position on her back. The changed perspective brought enlightenment.

That’s why the bars were horizontal.

“Fuck.” Details assimilated sluggishly. Dirt-covered metal comprised a bed, but it wasn’t in her apartment. Walls of brick as seen through her cage, lack of windows, and stale, dank air, pointed to an underground zip code.

Micro currents ferried a thick, putrid scent and muffled the faint, eerie groans of venting tunnels.

“What’s your name?” Again, a whisper twisted with annoyance and despair saturated the air.

Halting breaths and extreme concentration staved off the blind terror threatening her sanity.

“Kaylee. My name is Kaylee.” Slowly, she searched for the irritating heckler.

“Listen up, Kaylee. The bastard who took you is gonna be back soon, probably looking for a bit of afternoon delight. And he won’t be asking. He kidnapped you, too. I don’t know why.”

Kaylee’s befuddled mind took in more of her surroundings, low ceiling, dirt floor, cramped, cave-like room, and the caged, bedraggled woman three feet away. Purple and black surrounded her right eye and busted lip. Her shirt front hung in tatters, the ripped flannel exposing a large bruise above her breast.

“How long have we been here?” A torch along the wall cast flickering shadows over the adjoining cage, just short of her own.

Flickering—indicates an air current.

“The last thing I remember is shopping.” Tears trailed down the petite blonde’s mud-streaked alabaster cheeks which sharply contrasted the bruises marring her face.

“There’s a slight breeze coming from—that way.” Kaylee strained to see where the tunnel led. Pitch black. Some apparitional entity scuttled in the darkness beyond the seedy illumination and left the impression of ghostly stalkers. Stalkers that chittered in the dark. I’d rather see the boogeyman than rats. “We seem to be in an underground room?”

“Yeah. I think so. I woke up just like you, but the bastard tied my hands before my head cleared.” A sob choked further words as the victim’s wide eyes flickered around the room.

A cursory exploration of the small perimeter marked the filthy, tight confines, then the small, sharp-edged rock which fit in her palm. Instinct saw her sliding it behind her. Mud covered her jeans and colored her T-shirt and jacket. Bathing was the least of her worries.

“Someone slipped us a roofie.” Bruises, tattered flannel, and bound wrists conveyed the woman’s recent past.

Kaylee’s continued scrutiny yielded no clues of how to escape her dilemma. Even if she could squeeze her hand and arm through the bars’ two-inch gaps, she didn’t have the strength or leverage to break the heavy-duty padlock securing her prison.

“Yes. Yes. But at least you’re not tied up, yet.” The girl lifted her hands to reveal a double loop, plastic cuff. “See if you can break out.”
Reily is a West Coast girl transplanted to the opposite shore. When she’s not working with her dogs, you can find her curled up with a book or writing her next story. Past employment as an ICU nurse, private investigator, and work in the military police has given her countless experiences in a host of different environments to add a real world feel to her fiction. 

Over time, and several careers, many incidents have flavored the plots of her stories. Man’s cruelty and ingenuity for torment and torture is boundless, not contained by an infinite imagination. Witnessing the after-effects of a teenager mugged at knifepoint for a pair of tennis shoes, or an elderly woman stabbed repeatedly with a screwdriver for no apparent reason, left an indelible impression that will forever haunt her subconscious. In counterpoint, she has observed a woman stop her vehicle in severe, snowy weather to offer her own winter coat to a stranger, a teenager wearing a threadbare hoodie. Life’s diversities are endless.
Though her kids are her life, writing is Reily’s life after. The one enjoyed after the kids are in bed or after they’re in school and the house is quiet. This is the time she kicks back with laptop and lapdog to give her imagination free rein.

In reading, take pleasure in a mental pause as you root for your favorite hero/heroine and bask in their accomplishments, then share your opinions of them over a coffee with your best friend (even if he’s four-legged). Life is short. Cherish your time.


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