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On a Knife’s Edge by Lynda Bailey is a book worth reading #99cents #99c #romanticsuspense #mustread #bookboost #nnlbh

  • Writer: N. N. Light
    N. N. Light
  • Jun 19
  • 6 min read

Title On a Knife’s Edge

 

Author Lynda Bailey

 

Genre Romantic Suspense

 

Book Blurb

 

She was once his sweet salvation…

 

Lynch Callan has been a dead man walking most of his life – nothing out of the ordinary for a member of the 5th Street biker gang. There was a brief period, though, when she made him believe he could be more. That he could be worthy of her, and her love. To protect her, and keep their relationship from being discovered, he went to prison. Except now the Streeters are in danger. But in order to save his crew, he must first betray them. If caught, he’ll end up dead for sure. It’ll be the mother of all balancing acts, especially with her in the picture. But Lynch will do whatever is necessary to protect the people he loves.

 

He was once her deepest desire…

 

Shasta Albright doesn’t break the rules. Not anymore. As an unruly teenager, she defied her family at every turn…even secretly befriending, then dating, then falling in love with a bad boy Streeter. Finally her recklessness caught up with her – with lasting and even dire consequences. Now she leads a pristine existence, always staying within the lines and keeping her secrets hidden. That is until he gets released from prison. Can Shasta hold her perfect world together, or will everything get hurled into chaos?

 

With young girls going missing, the sleepy town of Stardust, Nevada becomes an unlikely epicenter for an illicit slave trade, with Shasta and Lynch caught in the middle. Amidst the rising body count, they fight to keep their loved ones – and each – safe. A single slipup could have deadly repercussions. It’s an untenable and treacherous position. Much like walking On a Knife’s Edge…

 

Excerpt

 

Lynch’s grin widened. “Get me outta here and I’ll see what I can do to help you.”

 

“That’s exactly what we intend, Mr. Callan.” Agent Jarvis thumbed open a file.

 

He sobered. “What does that mean?”

 

“It means we can arrange a new trial for you.”

 

Distrust tightened his skin. “In exchange for what?”

 

“Your cooperation with your old biker gang, the 5th Streeters.”

 

His smile returned. “Biker gang? Oh, you must mean the 5th Street motorcycle club. It’s not a gang, though. Just a bunch of weekend warriors riding around on their tricked-out Harleys.” He pulled his lips into a thoughtful frown. “I honestly didn’t even know they were still around.”

 

Jarvis flipped over a picture and pushed it toward him. A man’s hideously bloated face looked up from under harsh autopsy lights. Lynch’s stomach did a slow roil.

 

“This is…” Jarvis’s voice hitched slightly. “Was Agent Olsen.”

 

She turned over more photos. Lynch immediately recognized his best friend, Hez along with Rolo, the Streeter president and Flyer, the VP. There were other club members…Mick, Grunge, Picket. His mom. Plus Ennis and Tiny – when did those two go from being prospects to full-fledged Streeters?

 

Jarvis added more pictures…of his crew riding their respective hogs down Stardust’s main street, the entrance to Rolo’s bowling alley, which housed the clubhouse in the rear and his mom’s beauty salon.

 

Nostalgia torqued his heart and clogged his throat. But he masked his feelings to focus on the faces of the people he didn’t know. He supposed Agent Olsen populated the group, but he couldn’t pick him out due to the disfigurement of the first image.

 

“Jerry…Agent Olsen,” Jarvis continued, “had been undercover with the Streeters for over three years. He went missing last October. We feared the worst, then got confirmation a month ago when a fisherman on Pyramid Lake snagged Olsen’s clothing and dragged him to the surface. Weights had been attached to his ankles, but not enough to keep the body from rising once it started to decompose.” She leveled a hard stare at Lynch. “Jerry was a good agent. A good man. He left behind a wife and two young kids.”

 

Lynch shifted in his seat. “My condolences, but what does any of this have to do with me?”

 

A short, neatly trimmed fingernail landed on Olsen’s distended image. “This is the work of your gang.”

 

“Even if that’s true, I sure as hell don’t know who did it.”

 

“We realize you don’t know who killed Olsen,” Agent Newman interjected, opening another file. “Not yet anyway. Things have changed for the Streeters since you’ve been gone. They’re no longer a nickel and dime operation, growing and selling weed or extorting protection money from small businesses. They’ve moved into the big leagues. Smuggling heroin up from Mexico. Gun running.” He pivoted the file so Lynch could read it. “And more.”

 

Lynch leaned closer to examine the papers. “What am I looking at?”

 

“Missing person reports. Over two dozen young girls, some as young as twelve, have gone missing in Northern Nevada in the past six months. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. We discovered reports going back five years of teenaged, mostly white girls simply…vanishing. Some from as far away as Portland and Boise.”

 

An acidic taste coated Lynch’s mouth. He swallowed. “So?”

 

“So, Olsen learned a man, a Mr. Ian Blackwell, is behind the disappearances. He supposedly pays ten to twenty-five grand per girl, depending on her age and whether she’s a virgin.”

 

“And you haven’t arrested this Blackwell dude because why?”

 

“Because no one knows what he looks like,” Newman explained. “No pictures of him exist.”

 

“But you’re sure he’s connected to these disappearances?”

 

“Yes. According to our sources in the Mexican Federal Police, Blackwell resells the girls to Luis Fuentes, a Columbian businessman headquartered in Mexico City. Fuentes is one mother of a badass. Not only is he a known human trafficker with international ties stretching from the Philippines to the Middle East, but he’s also the go-to guy in this hemisphere for any dirt bag who wants to start their own private war. Fuentes can get anything and everything from C4 to AK 47s to missile launchers.”

 

Lynch sat back. “Okay. Have your Federale friends take care of Fuentes. That’ll cut the head off the snake and not only stop young white girls from disappearing on this side of the border, but should put a dent in the gun trade.”

 

“It’s not so simple. Fuentes is well connected in the local police forces. Every time a move is made on him, it ends in a blood bath – for the Federales. The FBI has formed a joint task force with the Mexican authorities in the hopes of back tracing to Fuentes from this side of the border. Agent Olsen was our point man.”

 

“I still don’t get what this has to do with me or the Streeters.”

 

“Your hometown, Stardust, is ground zero for the trafficking operation. Which means the Streeters are involved.”

 

An icy fist squeezed Lynch’s heart. “No way would Rolo have anything to do with something like that.”

 

“Believe it,” Jarvis stated, “because it’s true.”

 

“So you say.”

 

“So the evidence says,” she countered, sitting forward. “I don’t think you’re grasping the gravity of this situation, Mr. Callan.”

 

“Oh, I’m grasping it just fine, Agent Jarvis,” Lynch bit out. He crossed his arms, causing the guard to move to the door. Lynch placed his palms back on the table. “You want to spring me from this joint in exchange for ratting out my crew. Ain’t. Gonna. Happen.”

 

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Grab your e-copy on sale for only 99 cents!

 

 

 

 

Author Biography

 

I’ve always loved stories. For me the only thing better than reading a story is writing one. That and drinking red wine while eating dark chocolate.

 

My stories are full of passion and I’m proud to have been a 2010 finalist in the prestigious Golden Heart®. I hope you’ll join me for laughter and love, and where the good guys win in the end – eventually.

 

You can visit my website www.authorlyndabailey.com or drop me an email at Lynda.r.bailey@gmail.com.

 

Happy Reading!

 

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