Connie Hall - Rare Breed

OBSERVATIONS ON A POTENTIAL PEST

by Noah Hellstrom,

owner of Wanderlust Tours

…another day in the bush. Our plans are coming together well, and I stand to make quite a fortune from the poaching operation. This alliance with the Texan will prove very profitable indeed. I worry—needlessly, I’m sure—about the American park ranger, Wynne Sperling. She is as intriguing as she is infuriating, arresting my men as if she were some kind of savior. I cannot afford to let her disrupt my most exciting venture yet. But I can’t say that her fighting spirit doesn’t compel me, even though her prim rebuttals of my advances annoy me. And the albino leopard that follows her every move like a kitten is equally disturbing. But that’s part of Wynne’s charm—she is as rare as that damn beast, and twice as beautiful. What a wonderful trophy my pretty little ranger would make….

Dear Reader,

What’s in your beach bag this season? August is heating up, and here at Bombshell we’ve got four must-read stories to make your summer special.

Rising-star Rachel Caine brings you the first book in her RED LETTER DAYS miniseries, Devil’s Bargain. An ex-cop makes a deal with an anonymous benefactor to start her own detective agency, but there’s a catch—any case that arrives via red envelope must take priority. If it doesn’t, bad things happen….

Summer heats up in Africa when a park ranger intent on stopping poachers runs into a suspicious Texan with an attitude to match her own, in Rare Breed by Connie Hall. Wynne Sperling wants to protect the animals under her watch—will teaming up with this secretive stranger help her, or play into the hands of her enemies?

A hunt for missing oil assets puts crime-fighting CPA Whitney “Pink” Pearl in the line of fire when the money trail leads to a top secret CIA case, in She’s on the Money by Stephanie Feagan. With an assassin on her tail and two men vying for her attention, Pink had better get her accounts in order….

It takes true grit to make it in the elite world of FBI criminal profilers, and Angie David has what it takes. But with her mentor looking over her shoulder and a serial killer intent on luring her to the dark side, she’ll need a little something extra to make her case. Don’t miss The Profiler by Lori A. May!

Please send your comments to me c/o Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

Best wishes,

Natashya Wilson

Associate Senior Editor, Silhouette Bombshell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

is an award-winning author whose writing credits include seven historical novels, written under the pen name Constance Hall, and four screenplays. Her novels are sold worldwide. An avid hiker, conservationist, bird-watcher, and painter of watercolors and oil portraits, she dreams of one day trying her hand at skydiving. She lives in Richmond, Virginia, with her husband, two sons, and Keeper, a lovable Lab-mix who rules the house with her big brown eyes. For more information, visit Connie’s Web site at www.erols.com/koslow.

To Julie Barrett at Silhouette for her vision and for giving one hundred and ten percent of herself to her writers. To Anne McLaughlin, Camelot McAren and John Remmers, my worst critics and best friends. I love you guys.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Lower Zambezi National Park, Africa

Wynne Sperling held the steering wheel of the Land Rover with one hand and pointed at the vultures with the other. “Look, you can see them for miles. There must be hundreds of them.”

“A sure sign we’re close,” Eieb said, speaking very proper English, but slowly, lacing it with a Tonga accent. In his ranger rags, he resembled a black Dudley Do Right, save for the shoulder-length dreadlocks and the Garfield baseball cap, a thirtieth birthday gift from Wynne. He looked like a guy who would go out of his way to avoid stepping on a beetle, but Wynne had seen him wrestle a grown lion to the ground. Perhaps his deceiving appearance made him such a good ranger. Wynne usually worked alone, but when she needed backup, she chose Eieb.

He checked the compass on his watch, then glanced back at the vultures. “It’s close to where Aja said the meeting would go up.”

“That’s down. Go down.”

“Right, down.” Eieb frowned at his attempt at American slang and seemed to file the word away for later use.

“It looks like we’re about ten miles from the site.” Wynne swallowed hard and asked, “How many elephants do you think they’ve killed?”

Eieb glanced through the windshield and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know, but I’d say a lot by the amount of vultures.”

“I hate this part of the job. We work so hard to keep them alive, and in a few seconds they’re destroyed.”

“You feel responsible for all the animals we protect. Not good.”

“I can’t help it. It only takes one person—”

“To make a difference,” Eieb finished for her. “I know. I know. But even an army can know defeat.”

He had a point. Not that the underfunded Zambian Wildlife Authority could pay an army of rangers. Comprised of one hundred and twelve rangers—including Wynne, and Commander Kaweki, the unit warden—ZAWA was expected to police twelve thousand square miles. Still, she couldn’t help feeling responsible. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles shone white and said, “This happened on my watch. I should have been more vigilant, patrolled longer—”

“You’re the only person I know who makes Nelson Mandela look lazy.”

“I feel like I’ve done nothing. Poachers are hitting us more often, right under our noses. Why didn’t we know these guys were operating right in the park? We should have known. They’ve been here at least three days.” Wynne remained pensively quiet and stared at the road ahead.

“It is as if they know our every move.” Eieb studied Wynne a moment. “You think we have a spy in camp,” he said with certainty.

“How else could they be killing animals right in the park?” Wynne asked, aware Eieb knew what she was thinking. He probably knew her better than she knew herself sometimes. “Someone must be directing them, and that someone has to know where the rangers are at all times. And if we don’t catch them, they’ll expand. I’ll bet that if we hadn’t kept this sting to ourselves, we wouldn’t have been able to set it up.”

“We were lucky Aja received that tip from the villagers about the poaching.”

“If Aja hadn’t come to us with the information and arranged the buy, we wouldn’t have known a thing.” Wynne thought of Aja. He had been her first friend in Zambia, and her teacher. Without his help, she would never have learned to survive the harsh extremes of Africa. He was the most revered tracker in Zambia and a poacher’s worst nightmare.

“We have to find out who it is.” Eieb rubbed his jaw and seemed to be ticking off names in his head.

“I know.”

“It will be a good mystery. Something to look forward to when we get back.” A hard, unrelenting glint twinkled in Eieb’s eye, an unusual contrast to his typical restrained facade.