Die Easy: A Charlie Fox Thriller
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In the sweltering heat of New Orleans, former Special Forces soldier-turned-bodyguard Charlie Fox faces her toughest challenge yet.
Professionally, she’s at the top of her game, but her personal life is in ruins. Her lover, bodyguard Sean Meyer, has woken from a gunshot-induced coma with his memory in tatters. It seems that piercing back together the relationship they shared is proving harder for him than relearning the intricacies of the bodyguard business. Working with Sean again was never going to be easy for Charlie, but a celebrity fundraising event in aid of still-ravaged areas of New Orleans should have been the ideal opportunity for them both to take things nice and slow. Until, that is, they find themselves thrust into the middle of a war zone.
When an ambitious robbery explodes into a deadly hostage situation, the motive may be far more complex than simple greed. Somebody has a major score to settle, and Sean is part of the reason. Only trouble is, he doesn’t remember why. And when Charlie finds herself facing a nightmare from her own past, she realizes she can’t rely on Sean to watch her back. This time, she’s got to fight it out on her own.One thing is for certain, though—no matter how overwhelming the odds stacked against her, or however hopeless the situation may appear—Charlie is never going to die easy.
England to recuperate. But then an old friend is seriously injured after a motorbike accident (that kills the driver) and Charlie's lethal instincts kick in to find out what the real story is, and who the true target was. It's really quite impossible to put this book down, but what really makes this (and the whole series) shine is how Charlie's kickass skills are rooted in her own femininity and character.’ Sarah Weinman, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind Buy the Book SECOND SHOT Charlie Fox
time you showed,” came the buoyant tones of Tom O’Day. Here was someone who had no difficulty making himself heard. He came striding through the crowd trailing little eddies of excess energy in his wake. O’Day was wearing a black suit that looked almost funereal on his tall frame. As he moved, the light picked out a pair of dragons woven into the fabric of the lapels in silky thread. Maybe not so traditional, then. The bodyguard, Hobson, was his constant shadow. He clapped a solid arm around
to give in gracefully to a small Brit with an axe—even one as pissed off as me. In reality, I was surprised how easily it all gave way after half a dozen decent swings. Our attackers couldn’t fail to miss what we were doing, and they didn’t like it much. More shots poured in, striking sparks off the road surface around us and pummelling into the body of the stricken Bell. I widened the hole in the plexiglas along the edge of the frame until it finally crumpled outwards. Incoming rounds
reason to trust.” He glanced at me sharply. “You have anyone in mind?” I shook my head. There was no way I was going to get into that kind of argument—they’d already had enough to send them reeling. Maybe one day we might even discover which of those scenarios was closest to the truth. Now was not that day. “We need to move—we’ve been here too long already.” I hefted the Maglite, holding it just behind the bulb where I could use the tail end as a club and still be able to see what I’d hit
all, everyone had assumed Sean was in charge and I was merely . . . what—window dressing? We headed back towards the crewman’s cabin where I’d first hidden away. It still looked as undisturbed as it had been when we’d left it. I riffled through the clothing on the hanging rail, just to be sure nobody hid where I had hidden. Nobody. “So, do we have a plan?” Blake Dyer asked, sitting down on the edge of the bunk. He sounded exhausted, as though the adrenaline that had been firing him had leached