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Lana
only knows she’s been kidnapped—and she’ll fight tooth and nailagainst whoever has snatched her from her life. Her stern-faced
captor sends a tremor of ice through her veins, yet a thrill lies
beneath her unease. He’s dark and dangerous, his body ripped,
honed, and capable. But lust isn’t the same as trust—and whether
or not she can believe what Cal’s telling her, there’s at least
one person close to Lana who wants her dead . . .

A bead of sweat broke out on his brow, and he wiped it away with his sleeve. Despite the cool
air, he was roasting in his black camouflage gear.
She should be home and in bed by now. Last Saturday night she’d been home by midnight, and
even earlier on other nights of the week that he’d conducted surveillance. His pulse beat
steadily against his eardrums with impatience. It didn’t matter. He’d be waiting for her when she
decided to come home. There was no chance in hell he was backing out of this job now.
Headlights cut through the night as a car pulled up to the front gate.
Determination tensed his muscles, and his lips curved.
It’s about damn time.
The passenger door opened. He sunk lower in the shadows, pressing his back against the
outside of the garage. He was out of sight, but still had a direct view of his target. Satisfaction
brought his breath to a steady pace. Once she got inside, he’d give her some time to fall asleep,and then he’d make his move. Her delicious bare leg stepped out of the car, revealing a barely-
there miniscule dress. She laughed hysterically and pitched forward, nearly doing a face-planton the pavement. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Just great. She was wasted.

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Trained
to endure extreme danger and survive impossible odds, elite military
operator Red Harmon has battled our nation’s enemies for years.
While in the Rocky Mountains for R&R, his family is violently
attacked by an international squad of assassins. No ordinary
wet-team, this group is only the vanguard of a power play threateningnational security.

A
sinister enemy is stalking elite military operator Red Harmon and his
loved ones. Turning the hunter into his prey, Red uncovers a plot
that spans nations and draws him into the remote snow-covered ravines
of North Korea. His objective: penetrate the darkest prisons of
this mysterious nation to restore national security—and save all he
holds dear.

Red’s
not the only one who’s been living with secrets. His wife Lori is a
lot more than the typical suburban soccer mom she appears to be, and
she’s stumbled onto something massive. The future of world peace
depends on them—and on an enemy soldier with a powerful personal
agenda. If Red’s mission fails, the balance of superpowers may
never recover . . .

“With
effusive writing and strong characters, McCaleb delivers a
decades-spanning tale brimming with excitement,
intrigue, and deception. Red Harmon is akeeper!”

To
a trio of muggers, Red looks like just another suburban dad. But when
they demand his wallet at knifepoint, something snaps. In the blink
of an eye, two muggers are dead, the third severely injured, and Red
doesn’t remember a thing. Once an elite member of the Det, a secret
forces outfit whose existence is beyond classified, Red thought his
active service was over.

But
his memory is coming back–and a lethal killing machine is returning
to duty . . .

Facing
an unthinkable nuclear threat, a volatile international power play,
and a personal attack against his family, Red has no choice. He must
rejoin his old team, infiltrate the enemy camp, and complete the
biggest mission of his life . . .

–
Marc Cameron, New York Times bestselling author of BRUTE FORCE

–
David Poyer, USA Today bestselling author of TIPPING POINT and
ONSLAUGHT

 

–
George Easter, Editor of Deadly Pleasures magazine.

David
McCaleb was raised on a farm on the rural Eastern Shore of
Virginia. He attended Valley Forge Military College, graduated from
the United States Air Force Academy, and served his country as a
finance officer. He also founded a bullet manufacturing operation,patented his own invention, and established several businesses. He
returned to the Eastern Shore, where he resides with his wife and two
children. Though he enjoys drawing, painting, and any project
involving the work of hands, his chosen tool is the pen.

Recon

is the third novel in the Red Ops series that began with the
acclaimed thriller
Recall,
which was nominated for the International Thriller Writers Best FirstNovel Award, and continued inReload. 

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Across
the great ocean to the east, war is coming. The King of Spain is
assembling the most powerful armada the world has ever seen – an
enormous beast – to invade England and depose the Protestant “heretic
queen.” To have any chance against the wealth and might of Spain,
England will need every warship, she will need every able captain. To
this purpose, Queen Elizabeth spares Mary from the headman’s axe
for past sins in exchange for her loyalty, her ships and men.

Based
on true historical events, this is a tale about war, adventure, love
and betrayal. This is a story about vengeance, this is a tale of
heartbreak…

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In
1986, Mark received his J.D. degree from The John Marshall Law School
in Chicago, Illinois and began his legal career with a law firm in
White Plains, New York focusing his attention on general corporate
law. In 1994, Mark moved to Virginia and ventured out into hazardous
world of litigation where, in 1999, he won what was reported to be at
the time one of the largest and longest federal criminal trials in
Virginia’s history. Mark thereafter moved to Georgia where he resumed
his general corporate practice and served as general counsel for
several companies, including a $1B publicly-traded airline.

Mark
has been a life-long student of military history. And he has always
had a passion for reading and love for writing and wanted to someday
write his own book. But write a book about what? Mark had no desire
to write about some subject that 100 authors before him had already
delved into. And then, almost by accident, this fascinating, little
known story of Captain Luke Ryan fell into his lap. It was an
opportunity was too good to pass on and so Mark began the long and
tedious journey of researching, writing and rewriting. The twelve
year project ended in 2011 with Gather the Shadowmen (The Lords of
the Ocean), Prince of the Atlantic and Napoleon’s Gold.

Mark
currently lives in the Southeastern part of the United States.

My lads forced the big man down to his knees before me. They stretched his arms out taut and
held him firmly in place for me.
“Why, Captain Dowlin,” I said and laughed, “you’ve gone and pissed yourself I see! You’ve gone
and soiled my deck! And my crew scrubbed these planks down with holystones just this
morning. They put their backs into it let me tell you. They scrubbed this deck down clean.”
“Please,” Dowlin pleaded, whimpering with spittle and snot running down his long beard. His
eyes were nearly swollen shut from the good drubbing my men had given him. “Please, please,
please…” he repeated over and over again.
“Please?” I asked. “Is that all you can say? How pathetic. I pray you can beg far better than that,
especially when it is your own, pitiful life hanging in the balance. Come now, I know you can do
better and I promised my lads a bit of entertainment tonight before supper.”
“Please, my lady, please spare my life. For mercy’s sake. I have gold. I have much gold!”
“For mercy’s sake?” I asked. “No, I think not for mercy’s sake. But for gold you say? Well now,
you’ve piqued my curiosity there. And how much glittering gold is your miserable life worth to
you, Dowlin?”
“Anything, name your price!”
I looked over at what was left of Dowlin’s bloodied and beaten crew herded around the main
mast in a tight circle. They were bound in chains, intently watching my every move, soaking in
my every word. After today they would be my men.
My own lads knew the drill. They forced Dowlin down lower, exposing the back of his soft neck
to me.
I stood to the side and drew my sword. “The price Dowlin – is your head!”
“Nooooooooooooo…” Dowlin screamed just before I cleaved my way through flesh and bone.
With one, clean stroke, his severed head rolled grotesquely across my deck until it came to rest
at the feet of his defeated crew.
And then I pointed my sword at them, the bright, steel blade now dripping with Dowlin’s fresh
blood. “As my men will vouch,” I told them, “I’m no purveyor of lies and because I do not lie I
cannot say to you that killing gives me no pleasure. Your master was a wretched pig and it gave
me great pleasure to kill him. Now you know why some call me Bloody Mary. Now you serve me
and this ship – or not. You are free to choose.”
The upshot of my touch of drama was grand. The prisoners all at once dropped to their knees
and groveled at my feet. They all at once pledged their undying loyalty to me.
“Master Gilley!”
“Aye, Madam?”
“Introduce the new lads to our ways.”
“With pleasure, Mum, with pleasure!”
Thomas Gilley was my rock. He had been with me from the beginning. For nearly two years we
had crisscrossed the vast and perilous oceans together. For the past year we had sailed under
Dowlin’s cruel shadow.
“And our course, Mum?”
“The new lads will tell you – gladly now I should think – what our new heading is to be.”
And by that of course I meant that Dowlin’s men would tell us where Dowlin’s gold was stashed
away, or pay the awful price for their silence.
As my men went about their labors, securing the heavy guns and making repairs to shattered
planks, to torn lines and sail, I went below to my great cabin, content with a good day’s work.
Dowlin had thoughtlessly, and without good purpose, brutalized any who had crossed his path.
Men, women, children, he cared not. Yes, Dowlin was a wretched, stinking pig who often killed
for sport. I had done mankind a favor by dispatching him. But in my world, Dowlin had also been
a lord and master, a prince. His death I knew could not be cheaply bought.“An inspiring performance, Mum!” a voice called out, startling me as I stepped into my great
cabin. The voice popped out from behind the door, closed it quickly and slid the bolt back inside
the socket.
I would not give the intruder the satisfaction of knowing that he had, for once, caught me
unawares. “I’m glad you were amused,” I told him flatly.
He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close against him. “Do you,” he asked with a
smile, “despise all men?”
“All but one or two,” I replied and kissed him lightly on the lips. Then I reached down between
his legs and grabbed him by his privates. He was already stiff and eager. I couldn’t help myself
and moaned with anticipation.
“Only one or two?” he inquired. “Dare I ask who?”
“Ah, you are safe for now my dearest,” I answered, batting my eyes flirtatiously. “Well, at least
for a night or two. You have skills, remarkable skills worth keeping.”
“Aye, it was a splendid day indeed. I’ve always been exceptionally good at fighting, equally
talented with sword, knife, a musket or explosives. I suppose one could say I was born to it.”
“You are a great warrior, James Hunter,” I replied honestly and squeezed him even harder. “But
those are not the skills that interest me tonight. I dare say you have other skills that I’ve taken
quite a fancy to, skills I wish to test.”
“Ah, now, that is why I’m here my lady,” Hunter replied and flashed his brilliant smile for me.
“Not too tired from all that killing?”
“Shut up and take me you fool. Ravish me – I am hot for your wicked touch…”
Hunter obliged me gladly, with all he had to give.