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The legacy of liberty."People are continually deceived by the illusion of choice," Clara O’Connell a suddenly retired covert special agent was under no such illusion. The sudden retirement was due to her death staged to protect her from a faceless terrorist known only by a trail marked with bloodshed and treachery. The return of her brother, after her husbands death, added another dimension to her fragile new world. Clara reassembled a covert team to find those responsible for the chaos let loose. The struggle took a turn on the weirdness scale with the discovery of a manuscript detailing her life and death send those charged with protecting her on a mission to find the author in |
The legacy of Liberty. a novel by Cat ConnorExcerpt from Chapter 1.She watched the flames attack the logs of wood in the fireplace and felt a deep connection with their capacity to destroy all they touched. Her hand slid to the holster on her hip, she released the strap and drew her gun. For several minutes, she held the pistol in her hand, enjoying the empowerment it provided. The temptation to hold it to her temple and squeeze the trigger caused a rush of adrenaline. She raised the gun and imagined the total release pulling the trigger would bring. The door opened, a sudden cold draft whisked across the floor, followed by Sam. Someone flicked the light switch by the door, the comforting shadows disappeared.“Mommy, we’re home!” he yelled launching himself at her. With a flick of her wrist dropped the gun behind a cushion on the chair. “Yes you are.” She smiled and held him tightly. His timing was impeccable, holding him she realized, he was the only person who mattered and she had to make things right. excerpt chapter 2.Cait emerged from saying goodnight to Sam. She caught sight of a bottle of bourbon sitting on the coffee table. She took four crystal glasses from the dresser and placed them next to the bottle. They chimed delicately as she let them go. “No,” she replied. “I just want a drink,” “Fair enough,” Peter replied. It was obvious to both Scott and Peter that it was going to be a rocky night. Cait sat back in her chair, lit a cigarette and poured more bourbon into the glass, filling it to the brim. excerpt chapter 3.Sam rolled over in his bed. The dogs had moved and his feet were cold. Jodi whined at the closed door. Foster paced around the room anxiously. The small sleepy boy escaped from the confines of his blankets. He struggled with his pajama top managing to get both arms through the sleeves, and it wasn’t even inside out. Smiling proudly to himself, he opened the door. The dogs rushed past him. Sam tiptoed into his Mom’s room. It was almost light. He could see his way quite clearly even with the curtains shut. Standing by the side of the bed, he stared confused by the tidily made bed. She wasn’t there.“Mommy?” he called softly. Sam knocked on her bathroom door. He couldn’t hear running water. No one answered his knock. “Mom?” His voice was louder now as fear encompassed his small frame. He left the room. There was no one in the hallway. The dogs had gone downstairs. “Mommy. MOM!” Sam ran for the stairs his voice breaking into gasping sobs. He was half way down the stairs when three doors opened from the bedrooms. Sean, Scott, and Peter stumbled into the hallway. Each bleary eyed and pulling on clothing. “Did you hear her come back?” Peter asked. The other two shook their heads slowly. “Fuck,” Peter growled. The three men descended the stairs together, eventually realizing they would not all fit through the kitchen door at the same time. |
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