It has been one month since the release of A Matter of Trust on Amazon! This is my first published full length novel and I’ve decided to mark it’s one month birthday with a give away. So leave a comment for your chance to win a PDF of A Matter of Trust.
Blurb: A Matter of Trust by MJ Flournoy
Her paranormal abilities had always caused her grief. But can they save the life of a kidnapped child and the man she loves?
Jolie Wyngate is a middle school teacher with an extraordinary gift—or is it a curse? Throughout her life, she’s been never been sure. Now, when she is implicated in the kidnapping of a child, the ultimate value of her powers will be put to the test.
Mac Carlson, former Navy SEAL and security expert, is tasked with rescuing the kidnapped girl, Rachael Anne. From the moment he meets Jolie, his suspicious and protective nature sets its sights on her as a prime suspect. Can Jolie clear her name and gain this man’s hard-won trust?
More importantly, can she save the girl before time runs out? She won’t be able to do it without her psychic abilities—but Mac has a hard enough time trusting Jolie as it is, let alone trusting her powers to lead them to Rachael Anne.
As Mac and Jolie realize they have no choice but to work as a team—and as they slowly warm to each other in the process—they realize they have a new problem: the kidnapper has set his sights on Jolie. Now Jolie will need all of her abilities, and all of Mac’s strength and skill, to stay out of the kidnapper’s hands and bring Rachael Anne back home.
Excerpt: A Matter of Trust by MJ Flournoy
“Hell.” Mac Carlson hit speed dial for a second time, one white knuckled hand gripped the
steering wheel. Crap like this didn’t happen on his watch. Carlson Group, though new in
Atlanta, ranked number one in the security business.
He punched speed dial for the third time and swerved to miss a car that pulled out in front of
him. He swore at the driver and flipped him off. The idiot would have killed a less skilled
driver. Why didn’t they answer the damned phone?
The Knights’ alarm had activated and then fallen silent. Why? Mac had dropped Allen
Knight off earlier at a meeting downtown. Only Knight’s wife and daughter stayed home, along
with the family’s personal security, of course.
Could be a false alarm. Yeah, right. Like the newly installed multi-faceted security system
all malfunctioned at once, no chance. Besides, Mac trusted his instincts and alarm bells were
jangling through every cell of his being. His gut said this was real, and it wasn’t going to be
pretty.
”Answer the phone.”
Where the hell was security? If Allen had allowed him to handpick the on-premise security
team this wouldn’t be happening. Mac pounded his fist on the steering wheel. At his suggestion,
Allen Knight had switched to Longfield Technology for electronic security, but he’d held back
when Mac pushed to replace the security team, too.
The mini control module mounted on the dash remained blank. Longfield damned well better
have a good explanation for this snafu. Mac had recommended Longfield over Connard because
of Longfield’s superior technology and special skills.
Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, he used the other to whack the module. It
remained blank, dead like a tagged Iraqi sniper. He tried a fourth number on speed dial.
Nothing. The security team should have been changed. After this they would be, he’d see to
that.
The coal-black SUV sped down Peachtree Street, suppressed power throbbing beneath the
hood. Mac turned onto West Paces Ferry Road. He opened her up, speeding past the Governor’s
mansion, and continued west toward the Knight estate. High wrought-iron gates marked the
entry.
Gates that should have been closed stood open, allowing anyone entry.
Crap, this was bad, real bad.
He parked the SUV near the barn that housed Knight’s exotic car collection, pulled his Glock
from the side pocket of the door and slid from the seat. Mac knelt beside the vehicle. His
special forces training decreeing caution, he inched along the wall.
Crouching low, he crept toward the house. Body flattened against the barn wall he rounded
the corner, Glock held ready.
He found the first body on the lawn outside the house. The second lay sprawled in the garage,
just outside the kitchen door. The security team. Both had a single gunshot to the back of the
head. His fifth speed dial was to 911.
“Damn,” Mac cursed. No time to wait for back up, he had to find Mrs. Knight and Rachael
Anne, now.
Body tense and weapon drawn, he entered through the open mudroom door.
Professional security guards wouldn’t have been taken out so easily. He’d warned Knight that
as a high-profile executive, he and his family were prime targets.
Mac hugged the garage wall and advanced. Inside more chaos reigned – showroom perfect
kitchen trashed, dishes smashed across the floor, living room furniture overturned and shoved
askew.
Worse, the petite body of Lora Knight sprawled on the polished marble floor in front of the
wide sweeping stairs that led to the upstairs bedrooms.
He switched the Glock to his left hand and knelt, touching his fingers to her throat. Some of
the tension left him when he felt a steady pulse.
Caution and dread brought a steely determination to Mac’s steps. Slowly he climbed the stairs
headed toward the child’s room.
