"Lock the doors and windows...don't talk to anyone...keep the kids with you."
No explanation, just a few orders laced in panic.
Description:Release Date: October 6th, 2018
"Lock the doors and windows...don't talk to anyone...keep the kids with you."
Jenna Bradley knows she needs to be afraid, she just doesn't know what she should be afraid of. An evening phone call from her husband, Eric, rattles her to the core. "I'm coming to get you and the kids. We have to go away for a while."
No explanation, just a few orders laced in panic.
Jenna can only assume that as a reporter, Eric has exposed the wrong people. It’s only a guess. The distance between them grows every day, Eric living his life, Jenna living hers. She doesn’t know what he’s been working on any more than she knows where he went that morning. If only the gunmen holding her and her children hostage believed that.
Eric has the answers Jenna seeks, but when the engine of his private plane stalls over Lake Michigan, his desperation to get home and whisk his family to safety takes a back seat to a seemingly futile struggle to survive.
Federal inmate, Kurt McElroy has answers too, but heavy prison monitoring prevents him from sending a clear warning, not to mention getting the help he needs. The private prison he’s been contracted to is as corrupt as they come, but that corruption reaches beyond the prison walls to officials with everything to lose.
Jenna fears it's her family that will lose, namely their lives. The clock is ticking. The gunmen are growing restless. Can she find an escape before it's too late?
EXCERPT
A shake of the aircraft jerked Eric from his
thoughts.
The engine sputtered.
He glanced
at the gages. His RPM was dropping.
Another sputter.
His seat rattled before the engine silenced.
Eric reached for the overhead panel, flipped the
ignition knob to its original position and then back to start. Nothing
happened.
He flipped on his auxiliary power, watched the
gauges, and tried to start the engine again. His fuel level had dropped dangerously
low. It didn't make sense. Despite his rush, he had topped off both fuel tanks
before leaving Traverse City.
He pulled up on the yoke to maintain altitude,
switched fuel tanks and tried to start the plane again. The engine stammered
and slowly came to life.
But only for a moment, not long enough to feel the
relief.
Eric drifted through the air in eerie silence,
thousands of feet above the water. Now what? His threw his hand to the overhead
panel and desperately cranked on the knob, but no matter how many times he
tried, he couldn’t restart the engine.
He hit the yoke with his fist.
They know.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. He couldn’t think
about that, had to focus on the plane. He knew what to do. He’d logged
thousands of flight hours. A lifeless engine didn’t have to be a death
sentence. He could travel a long distance just by gliding.
Eric searched the instrument panel for his
altitude. Eight thousand feet. Rule of thumb, multiply altitude by five to
determine minimum gliding distance.
He’d make it at least 40,000 feet before the plane
came down. About eight miles.
Eric gawked at the horizon, the moisture sucked
from his mouth as if a dental vacuum lay inside. A flash of lightening streaked
in the distance.
Eight miles.
He was at least twelve miles from shore.
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Christine Barfknecht has a passion or weaving the darkest bits of the human psyche into page-turning fiction. She is the author of Apple of My Eye and the upcoming The Man I Knew. She lives in rural Wisconsin with her husband, children, and pets.
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thanks for hosting
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