Echo

Falling for him wasn't in the plan. Losing him isn't an option.

Demons rule the divide between victory and defeat. Not that Archer Belak knows the true nature of the enemy. Special forces, best of the best, leader of the military’s most secret unit, Archer will find a way.

Best of the best? Ha. Lana Fischer’s demon hunting team holds that title, and double the secrecy. She’s more than happy to take on whatever’s haunting that canyon.

Sounds like a couple of alphas, right? Nope, not these two. Lana is carefree, accepting, and won’t quit until the job’s done. Archer’s not gifted at any one thing, but he will fight to the bitter end with every last breath… And it might just take his last breath.

“You’re not getting in there without a military escort. Trust me. It’s dead center in the middle of the warzone.”

Lana leaned back and propped her feet on the coffee table, a wicked grin spreading across her cheeks. “I haven’t made a new friend in ages. I’ll go, play along, and most importantly, I’ll find a way in. You guys figure out what this is and how we can crush it. I’ll play diplomat.”

Quinn leaned into Ryan and he tugged her against him. She snorted and said, “Lana the Diplomat. Ha. Take it easy on him anyway.”

“Of course,” she answered with an eye-roll.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t take it too easy on him.”

“Hey, this is work. I don’t mix business and pleasure,” Lana huffed. “Usually. Unless he’s really hot.”
Rain or snow, sunny or overcast, Lana rocked the boots and denim skirt look. She would say freezing or sweltering, but apparently, sweltering heat wove heavy and sticky into the thick fabric. Although that was probably her sweat. Thus, “sweltering” will no longer be included in her boots and denim skirt universal outfit.
Tousling his hair in an endearing habit, judging by the disarray already present, he knocked his glasses off and juggled them a moment before catching them. With a sheepishly sexy smile, he said, “Archer Belak.”

“Lana.”
Easing her foot back, she smiled. “Okay. I apologize for assuming you were a sexist ass. I run into it too often.”

“I get it. I trust the women and men in my unit equally, and a hell of a lot more than rest of the entire military, but I know a lot of women had to work twice as hard to get where they are to prove the plethora of sexist asses wrong.”

“You said plethora.” She grinned and nudged his foot with hers. He nudged her back. “Now who’s being judgmental?”

“Not judgment. I’m fond of the word dearth.”

“Pessimist?” His grin widened.
Scratching his head, his cobalt eyes glazed with sleep, Archer stumbled outside in black joggers and a snug white tee. He plopped down onto the swing next to her and took a long sip from his stoneware mug, the steam from his coffee wafting over his face and brightening his tan complexion. “You’re up early. Afraid I’d ditch you?” he asked.

“Actually, no,” she smiled and resisted leaning into him. With how sleepy he was, she was tempted to curl into him and indulge in a full snuggle. “I might actually trust you.”
Voice unsteady as she strained to focus, she bit her lower lip and grinned before asking, “Is this a thing you have, saving up for the big first kiss? Do you normally steal second before you’ve even hit the ball?”

“This might be a first.” He slid her top back down and spooned snug together on his cot, he nuzzled against her neck and whispered, “Get some sleep.”

“There’s a lot we can do that wouldn’t involve kissing.”

“I don’t pack condoms on deployments.”

“Then go wake up someone that might have some. Sex isn’t kissing.”

“Go to sleep, Lana,” he grumbled, but the laugh in his voice tickled over her.

“Yes, Major.”

He pinched her side. “Careful or I’ll write you up for insubordination.”
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What people are saying about Echo

Whatever idiot claimed that this “dry heat” wasn’t so bad, was a moron. It’s a dry heat inside of an oven, yet you will still get charred. - Lana, Echo