The better part of valor is often to run.
Jasmine “Smoke” Hoyer has decided it’s safer to run than to fight. Keep her head down and keep it moving. No attachments. No feelings.
Once so deep undercover that the lines between right and wrong had been blurred, she now trusts no one but herself. She’s drawn back into the world of espionage when her past catches up to her.
Lance Baldwin is no stranger to the twists of fate. Years of undercover work suddenly hinge on the cooperation of a woman he once wished he would never lay eyes upon again. This case has plunged him in deeper than anything he’s done before. Double crosses, murders, attacks, safe houses being leaked, all lead to one conclusion. There is a mole.
Their forced proximity leads to eye-opening revelations and unquenchable passion. The fragile, budding trust is tested when he has to decide whose side he’s on. Will they still have a shot once the bullets stop flying and the truth is exposed or will it be shattered into pieces?
Reader advisory: This book contains mentions of human trafficking, including child trafficking. There are also mentions of child abuse, drinking, drug use/abuse, and violence.
General Release Date: 3rd March 2026
The sun beat down on him without mercy and one-time decorated Detective Lance Baldwin of the Atlanta PD—now undercover lowlife, mob errand boy rising up the ranks as Lance Beckner—wiped the sweat off his brow and lifted the brown bottle to his lips and drank. The beer wasn’t even cold any longer and he was so close to spitting it out and demanding another. Why? Because that’s what his asshole persona would do.
Day in and day out he’d spiraled down further and further until it had gotten to the point of did he even recognize himself in the mornings when he stood in front of the mirror? His Italian silk suits may remain but he wasn’t remotely close to the man he’d been a year and a half ago when he’d been tapped for this assignment.
And on the few rare moments he was honest with himself, he didn’t think he ever would be again. All he knew was he needed to get out of here and back to his life.
A hand smacked him hard on the back and he didn’t even grunt, aware that was what Michel Jankovic was going for.
The asshole lowered his bulk to the outdoor stool beside Lance and waved for a drink.
“Something happen for you to come seek me out on my time off?” He didn’t get a lot of it and guarded it like a dragon and their treasure.
“Actually, Lance, your time is mine. If you have me on your ass for the next month, you’ll accept it and do so with a goddamn smile.”
Lance put down the bottle and shook his head and he slid from the stool onto his feet. “Wrong. I put up with you showing up on my ass like this purely because I work for your father. Even your old man figures I deserve some time. I mean, how am I supposed to get some pussy when I have your fucking ugly mug shadowing my ass? I don’t do threesomes and you’re definitely not my type.”
Michel didn’t appear all that dissuaded by his soliloquy. He belched and scratched his chest.
“Can’t see at all why having you like a fucking anchor around my neck would hurt. Fuck, you can’t even dress up to respect your father. I’m not looking for a five-dollar whore. I have more class than that and don’t need to spend my days in line at the free clinic getting checked to make sure I’m disease free.”
Lance pulled out a wad of money from his pocket, ripped off two bills, caught the bartender’s gaze and dropped them down. The man nodded at him but didn’t approach. In fact, he continued his conversation with another man.
“Leave me the fuck alone, Michel. I need to get laid with my woman and I’m not offering up classes on how to make sure your partner is satisfied or how to be more than a three-pumper.”
Michel glared. “My women are satisfied.”
Lance leaned close, anger tinging his tone. “You don’t fuck women, you go after children. They can’t speak for themselves.” He inched nearer yet, daring the man to reach for him. “And if they could, they would tell you to stop.”
He spun away, only to pause when a bearpaw clamped down on his arm. Michel was back in his face.
“You don’t approve but you work for my father.”
“Money is one thing but no, I don’t see any reason to fuck a child when there are plenty of women who would even look past your lack of everything because you have money.” He pushed his finger in Jankovic’s chest. “Do not grab me again.”
Lance walked off, aware he was making himself a target, inviting Michel to attack. When the attack didn’t happen he was almost equal parts surprised and not at the result. Michel was a hothead and was well-known for losing his temper and beating people into little balls of pulp. Or having his bodyguards do it for him.
However he was also, and rightfully so, scared to fucking death of his old man. Lance had busted his ass to get to where he was. He hated it. And did so with every fiber of his being, but he had a job to do and he was going to continue doing it so he could bring this human trafficking empire down.
Burn it so not a single person in the family would ever think they could get away with it again in their life. Instill the fear of God, or the Devil, into them and make them shiver whenever his name was whispered.
A couple of blocks later he walked up to a different bar and ordered a drink. Nodding at the bartender, he made his way to one of the outdoor tables and took a seat beneath the brightly colored umbrella.
Women in bikinis sashayed by, some trying to pick up someone, others apparently just out in the perfect weather. A large shadow appeared in his periphery, but he didn’t jump, didn’t make any motion of surprise.
“My son says you are being disrespectful.”
“Your son is a fucking idiot and will do nothing but get your business in trouble.” Lance sipped his drink, still not looking over to the man who’d taken a seat at his table.
Again, there was no need.
“This is true.” Dusan Jankovic gestured to someone, presumably to get a drink delivered. “However, he is my son and high up in my business.” He glared at Lance with cold blue eyes. “Higher up than you.”
Lance drained his drink and watched with zero interest as some barely clad honey dropped off a drink and exchanged a heavy kiss with Dusan. When they parted, his boss had one meaty hand down her bikini bottom, groping her ass and fingering her pussy with two digits.
“If you no longer want my work, say so. But don’t insult me and say that I have to take orders from a man who thinks with his small dick. Your son is a detriment to the business that you’re trying to grow. If that’s who I have to follow, I will walk away right now because I’m not letting that man fit me for a pine box.”
Dusan frowned, pulled his fingers from the girl’s pussy, and smacked her on the ass. “Leave us.”
She sauntered off on her too-tall six-inch heels.
“Explain these words to me, Lance.”
“You want to discuss this here?”
Dusan shrugged. “They know who I am and what happens if they talk.” He narrowed his eyes. “Like you do.”
Just more reason to get this fuck off the street. This bastard was so arrogant the thought of discussing something like this in public didn’t cause even the slightest bit of hesitation. Granted, it wasn’t anywhere in public, but certain businesses.
In a way it made sense. The man had more spies than Lance wanted to think about. It sucked because being undercover here meant zero contact with anyone other than his handler, and those contacts were few and far between.
He was ready to finish this and move on. With what he wasn’t sure, but this case had begun to take its toll on him, making him wonder if he needed to simply get out of the business altogether.
“Not sure how else you want me to explain it. Your son thinks he’s untouchable. He’s very vocal about the young girls who are picked up and sold. I’ve heard him going on about it to other girls, threatening their little sisters with phrases like, ‘I can make them disappear’ or any number of things that includes him actually fucking them.” Dusan’s gaze darkened but Lance pressed ahead. After all, the man had asked. “You have people loyal to you in the department, yes, but there isn’t going to be anything they can do when your son mouths off in front of the wrong people. As powerful as you are, there are others in this city who hold more power. We both know this.”
He sipped his drink, staring around the bar briefly, glossing over the women in their skimpy outfits both inside and outside of the establishment.
“Why have none of the ones around him come to me with this?”
Lance shrugged. “Can’t speak for them in that regard. My guess would be that they have a job to keep him alive. They’re loyal to him and answer to him.”
“But you?”
“Like I said before…” He frowned as someone caught his attention. A tingle of recognition hit him, but she was gone seconds later, before the recognition could manifest into a name. “Like I said, I work for you. Not him. I told you when you came to me I wasn’t taking orders from anyone else. Only you.”
“What are you looking at?”
“Thought I saw someone I knew.” He held Dusan’s stare without blinking.
“Cop friend?”
Lance didn’t worry, the man always wondered if people were cops. If they weren’t on his payroll, he was suspicious. “Hardly. She was on this side of the law, drug running, carjacking, that kind of thing.”
Dusan scratched his jaw. “She good?”
“One of the best.” Lance shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not there and it may not have been her.”
Even as the words fell, she stepped into view once more. Damn it! It was her. He’d recognize her anywhere. Ever since she’d propositioned him back in Atlanta to let her go instead of arresting her, he’d been unable to get her out of his head. Just another thing to be pissed about in the long line of things that angered him. Having a hard-on for the untrustworthy, partially psychopathic twin of a woman he’d been watching. Of course, at that time he had thought the woman under his watch was the crazy drugged-out one. But the second the real Jasmine had touched him, he’d knew it hadn’t been her. Lance had felt like he’d been stabbed by a handful of lightning bolts at that simple contact. A feeling he’d been unable to forget.
“Does she have a name?”
“Yes, she does. My woman, who I haven’t seen in a long time because you keep me busy.”
“Didn’t know you had a woman. And why would you say someone you knew instead of just that she was your girl?”
“I don’t share my life with you. Like you point out all the time, there is work and there is family. Right now, I’m on the work side.”
That woman he had identified, well, she was something all her own. A woman he would be smart to forget even existed.
And she was a piece of work for sure.
Jasmine Hoyer.
£3.99 Pre Order
Add to Wishlist
Read a Sample
Send as a Gift
Available in:
epub, pdf 
-148x237.png)
Facebook
Twitter
Newsletter