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What is the true name of evil?
The Zodiac Killer, the Hillside Strangler, the
Night Stalker, and the Green River Killer all left their mark on California . .
. and now the city of angels is under siege.
When fiery, redheaded biker MJ Bennett witnessed
her beloved grandfather gunned down on her sixteenth birthday, she made herself
two promises. She would continue his quest to save teenagers lost to the dark
side of Hollywood—the side tourists never see—and she would never let herself
get that close to anyone ever again.
But after meeting traumatized runaway, Haley
Roberts, she breaks her own rule. MJ suspects that Haley has narrowly escaped
the Hard Candy Killer, a sadistic serial killer targeting teen sex workers with
blonde hair and blue eyes.
MJ begins to connect the dots between Haley and
a dangerous crime lord who hides his savage sex trafficking enterprise behind
legitimate businesses. But the clock is ticking, and the Hard Candy Killer is
closing in on the target he wants most, MJ, whose family secrets have her
marked for destruction, turning the hunter into the hunted.
"Gotta admit. You look like a woman about to go into battle.”
She chuckled humorlessly as she delivered another punch. “I’ve
never been out.”
He faced her for a long moment. She threw another punch, and he
grabbed her wrist almost effortlessly. Without another word, he led her toward
the mat.
“What are you doing?”
He glanced down at her with those piercing blue eyes. “Giving you
practice with something that fights back.”
He walked to the middle of the mat and turned to her. She
hesitated briefly before she joined him. He’d be a lot more fun to beat up than
some old punching bag.
They squared off against each other, and she took the lead by
throwing the first punch. She went for the nose again, but this time he was
prepared. With catlike reflexes, he caught her wrist in his palm, intercepting
her jab. She had stepped forward with her attack, so he stepped in with his
left leg and let her momentum carry her over his knee and right to the floor.
She glared at him as she sprang up. He smirked and motioned for
her to come at him, like they were in some ’70s kung fu movie. It pissed her off
even more. She responded with a flurry of punches and kicks. He bobbed and wove
around her flying fists and groin-seeking knee. She got angrier with every
blocked jab or kick. Finally she aimed her elbow toward his face. He advanced,
locking her neck in an arm hold. He kicked her feet out from under her and
easily tossed her onto her back. He followed her down before she could hop back
up again. His eyes were intense as he glared down at her. “Get rid of your
anger, M.J.,” he commanded in a low voice. “Focus.”
He hopped up. She glowered at him, and he offered her a hand. She
used this trusting move against him, pulling him back down, locking his arm
between her legs as she pulled him into an arm bar, twisting her body until he
was forced to tap out and avoid injury. She unraveled her body and they both
stood. She faked a right jab toward his nose, like before, but as he prepared
for that move, she used her foot to deliver a blow to his stomach, which
doubled him over. She grabbed him as she rolled backward onto the floor,
kicking his body weight over her. He recovered and tackled her before she could
stand upright, knocking her to the mat.
He pinned her with both palms against her shoulders. Their eyes
met and locked, feeling each other out, constantly assessing and reevaluating.
His eyes glittered as they swept across her face, taking in the full lips that
parted softly with each pant of exertion.
Her eyes widened as she realized how every inch of his strong body
covered hers. He smirked again and dragged himself into a standing position.
She watched him warily from where she lay. Eventually he offered a hand to help
her up. She considered it for a long moment before she put her hand in his and
allowed him to help her stand.
They stood face-to-face for a long, quiet moment. Finally she
slipped past him without saying a word, stalking toward the showers.
He stared after her for a long while with an
absent smile on his face.
Ginger Voight is a screenwriter
and bestselling author with over twenty published titles in fiction and
nonfiction. She covers everything from travel to politics in nonfiction, as
well as romance, paranormal, and dark, “ripped from the headlines” topics like
Dirty Little Secrets.
Ginger discovered her love
for writing in sixth grade, courtesy of a Halloween assignment. From then on,
writing became a place of solace, reflection, and security. This was never more
true than when she found herself homeless in L.A. at the age of nineteen.
There, she wrote her first novel, Chasing Thunder, longhand on notebook paper,
while living out of her car. Fittingly, this book will be the first released
through a traditional publisher in 2015.
In 1995, after she lost her nine-day-old
son, she worked through her grief by writing the story that would eventually
become The Fullerton Family Saga.
In 2011, she embarked on a new journey—to
publish romance novels starring heroines who look more like the average
American woman. These "Rubenesque" romances have developed a
following thanks to her bestselling Groupie series. Other titles, such as the highly-rated
New Adult series, Fierce, tap into the "reality-TV" preoccupation in
American entertainment, which gives her contemporary stories a current, pop
culture edge.
Known for writing gut-twisting angst,
Ginger isn’t afraid to push the envelope with characters who are perfectly
imperfect. Whether rich, poor, sweet, selfish, gay, straight, plus-size or
svelte, her characters are beautifully flawed and three-dimensional. They
populate her lavish fictional landscapes and teach us more about the real world
in which we live simply through their interactions with each other. Ginger’s
goal with every book is to give the reader a little bit more than they were
expecting, told through stories they'll never forget.
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