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Tag
Shari J Ryan
What if your family had a big secret . . . a life changing secret. My dad, the bigwig CIA agent, was always on the run, whether he was being chased or doing the chasing. I missed him. Then my mom passed away, and my sister was murdered. I turned my solitude to strength because the alternative was too bleak.
But my luck seemed to turn: I met Tango. And while I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my twenty-two years, danger lurks around every corner and I simply can’t take the chance of it finding me. But his tattoos, his smell, his darkness, and his body— that marine has taken over my every thought. But, what if he too isn’t what I think? A ticking time bomb isn’t going to leave me much time to waver. Even the bravest person can be in need of a miracle.
Before she was gone, my mom warned me to know everyone and trust no one. But what was I supposed to do when I found out I am the one not to be trusted? Turns out, I was always the bait in this conspiracy.
In author Shari J. Ryan’s gripping novel, TAG, the canyons hold secrets, the waterfalls provide safety, and romance has a pesky way of showing up when you are sweaty and dirty and least expect it.
Well Saturday is here, and if you are like me, you have to go outside in the bitter cold and clean some snow. But before that happens, I want to bring you Tag! We've got an excerpt and a giveaway, so I hope it makes your weekend a little bit warmer! Let me know what you think - is this book making it to your list??
I've been seated
among the dozens of other passengers for the past two hours, watching the gate
times change a number of times before I see the plane actually arrive. Just as
I'm powering my phone down, preparing to board, an awful stench burns my nose
from a few inches away. A middle-aged man with greasy black hair and a thick
lip-covering mustache who smells exactly like the inside of a port-a-potty has
found a reason to sit directly beside me in a row of empty seats. When my eyes
unfortunately meet his, he takes the opportunity to speak to me. "Heading
to Boston?" he asks. I raise my eyebrows and force a tightlipped smile. I
simply follow that with a nod and give him a no shit look. "I heard
winter's coming early this year," he continues.
"Cool," I mumble with a sigh. I pull a magazine out of my bag
and open it in front of my face, hoping to block my vision of the man's
blackened-stained grin. But it's only seconds before I'm taken back when his
finger sweeps down the bare skin of my collarbone.
"What
does that mean?" he asks, pointing to my tattoo.
With a smooth
motion, I lay my magazine down onto my lap and place my hand over his, giving
him the false notion that I'm a gentle person. I take the opportunity to offer
him a slight smile before I twist his forefinger backwards as far as it will go
before the expectant snap. "I'm sorry," I say sweetly. "Did I
tell you it was okay to touch me?" I pull down a little harder, and he
smiles in response to the pain. But as I hold my hand there, I see the smile
begin to fade.
"It's a
free country, chicky," he sputters as his tongue knocks around between his
bare gums.
"Why
would you think it's okay to touch me?" I ask again, keeping my voice
calm, yet stern. He licks his lips and looks me up and down, responding with
only a look. "Do you go around touching girls half your age because you
feel it's okay?"
He clears his
throat and looks around to see who's watching or listening, but I don't move my
eyes from his. "Why not?" he says, shrugging his bony shoulders.
"Besides, you're definitely asking for it."
He thinks I'm
asking for it? I'm wearing a fucking scoop neck, black long sleeve shirt,
jeans, and combat boots. "The only reason it's okay, is because no one has
ever probably told you no. But it occurs to me that after I snap your finger
off your hand, you won't be able to touch people inappropriately anymore, will
you?"
He hoots with
laughter, dragging in attention he probably shouldn't want. "You think you
could break my finger, little chicklette?"
I pull his finger a little further, and his smile grows.
"Ow, stop. You're hurting me," he puckers his lips and winks at me.
"Oh,
look, it's your right hand. You a righty?" I turn his hand over and see
deep callouses bubbling on his palm. "Yes, you are. So, if I rip this
thing off, you wouldn't miss it, right?" I turn his hand back over and
glare into his beady eyes. He's questioning my words. He's unsure of my
capabilities. And that's fine. "Sound okay to you? Or are you going to
leave and stop touching people?" His smile fades and his eyes widen. I
release his hand and offer him a smart-ass smile. "Oh, and the tattoo
means death. It's a Maori Warrior symbol. They used to eat their enemies once
they slaughtered them. Cool, huh?"
I see his
Adam's apple struggle to move. He lifts his bag from the ground and nearly
trips over his own feet, darting away.
I reopen my
magazine to the page I was reading and refocus my attention on an article as I
hear a soft chuckle coming from the other side of me. I turn to see who was
enjoying the free entertainment and I'm faced with a man who looks to be either
a wrestler or in the military--black shaven hair, stiff jaw and bulging muscles
on every inch of his arms. His eyes are currently focused on a book, and I suppose
he could have been laughing at that, rather than me. But as I question it, his
large shamrock green eyes lift and look right at me. A slight grin tugs on the
corner of his lips, and he winks so quickly I'm questioning whether it was me
who might have blinked. Before I can react, he stands up and walks away.
I swallow hard
and refocus my attention on the magazine once more. Stupid attractive man
causing a moment of feebleness. I didn't react, though. He winked at me. I
think. And I didn't make a snide comment or scowl. Weakness.
I let out a
few short breaths, regaining my composure. He's gone. It's fine.
Bestselling author, Shari J. Ryan, hails from Central Massachusetts where she lives with her hubby and two lively little boys. Ryan has published the 3-book Schasm Series for Romantic Suspense/Thriller fans. TAG is her first book written solely for the Romantic Suspense audience, and she is hard at work on Red Nights, a standalone coming this spring.
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