Tia Louise's Blog: ONE TO BLOG - Posts Tagged "thriller"

HIT GIRL
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Molly

Large hands grip my neck, and I place my palms together in a praying motion. Faster than a blink, I shove them up and through his arms, spinning my body as I go.

His hands fly off me, and I'm behind him now, one hand bracing the back of his head, one hand gripping his throat. My fingernails cut into the flesh around his Adam's apple, and I stop short of ripping through the skin.

"Tear out the larynx," I say, flattening my palm against Stas's neck and stepping back, shoulders straight.

He turns and faces me, three inches between us. His hands move so fast, I almost miss his fist swinging for my head.

But I don't miss it.

My arm goes up, and I block his move, using the momentum of his swing to power the rotation of my body as I drop my hands to the ground and kick my leg in a sweeping motion toward his face.

It's a roundhouse kick to the head, but I bend my knee and don't make contact. I follow through with the motion until I'm sitting on my butt on the beach.

"That blow would break your attacker's neck." Stas nods, a satisfied expression on his stern face. "You are little, but you are powerful, Myshka. Unless your attacker shoots first, you will not be conquered again."

We've trained here every day for six weeks, and the lines in my arms and stomach are proof of how strong my body has become. I'm fourteen now, and I'm a master of the open hand strike, the outside defense, the roundhouse kick, and several basic Jiu-Jitsu moves.

I know how to stay calm when I'm cornered and how to use my attacker's energy to strengthen my own strikes. I know how to walk away, how to sit and meditate, how to refocus my energy so the negative chi of my attacker doesn't enter my psyche.

We've worked on all these things, drilling day after day, until the horrors of my last year have morphed into steps along the path of my journey rather than boulders raining down on my head.

"Meditate. Refocus your mind." He steps back, and I know this is the sign he's leaving me for the day.

I also know he's leaving the villa and returning to the Ukraine at the end of the week. It's possible in only a few more days we might never see each other again.

"Stas?" I step forward quickly, my eyes growing hot.

He pauses and studies my face, but doesn't speak.

I hold back the tears. "What does Myshka mean?"

His shoulders relax and that microscopic smile appears. "It means mouse. What are you thinking little mouse?"

"Last night when I slept, the men were back. They were around me like always, but I didn't fear them. I didn't wake up screaming. I didn't run away."

"They're in the past now. You've released them. They have no power."

My stomach tightens, and something inside me rejects that response. Anger burns in my chest, just like it had when I awoke last night in the dark room alone.

A different anger.

A righteous anger.

A need for justice.

"But they're still out there."

"Yes, but you are stronger now. You've learned what I wanted to teach you."

My eyes cast down to his hands. "I want you to teach me one more thing."

His head tilts to the side. "What is that?"

"Teach me to kill."

* * *
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EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
HIT GIRL
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Molly

I realize it’s Shooter, and I scoot back again, on my guard. Our eyes lock, but she’s unarmed. She’s not here to hurt me. Still, I watch her. My hunger is momentarily abated, and I’m ready if she tries anything.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask.

She shrugs, stepping to the side and looking around my small prison. “We’re the same. We’re killers, hackers… I’ve watched you for years, tracked you. You’re one of the best.”

“Thank you.” It’s a tight reply. All my muscles are tense, ready to react.

“I consider myself one of the best.”

I nod, taking another bite of food. “Noted.”

Turning on her heels, she crosses her arms and faces me, frowning as if she’s trying to figure out a complex problem. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you kill those men? They were lowlifes, criminals with no connections, no payoff.” She takes another step, studying me. “You’re clearly smart. Why take a chance like that? Why gamble your freedom for no reward? Are you an adrenaline junkie?”

“You want to know why I didn’t just hack into a bank and steal a bunch of money. Move to Indonesia and live like a queen on an island in the south Pacific?”

“Basically, yes. You could do that.”

My eyes move from my hands clasped in my lap up my arms where tiny silver scars stripe my skin. “Being a hacker didn’t come first for me. I became a hacker so I could find the men who raped me when I was thirteen.”

Shooter’s arms move. She tightens them higher over her chest, but she doesn’t interrupt me. She wants me to keep going, so I do.

“We ran away from New Orleans to escape our abusers. We ran all the way to France… but I couldn’t escape what happened to me. I couldn’t remember the details, but the feelings would bubble up. They would rise to the surface of my skin and burn until I let them out.” Shooter is the first person I’ve spoken to so plainly about why I cut my skin. I never told Joshua. I never even told Stas…

“Killing helped you to stop?”

“Stas… the old man helped me stop. He taught me to meditate. He taught me to confront the feelings and name them, give them a place, and let them go. He taught me self-defense, so I would never be a victim again.”

She’s thinking about what I’m saying. Her heels make sharp clicking sounds as she paces the concrete floor. “But it wasn’t enough. Meditation, self-defense, they weren’t enough.”

“I guess I’m not as enlightened as I ought to be. The only way I could stop feeling their hands on my skin, their breath on my neck, was to make them stop breathing altogether.”

You could hear a pin drop it’s so quiet in the room. It’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s more a respectful silence. The silence of two people who kill for a living acknowledging their truths.

“My little sister was shot in the head at a bus stop. She was on her way to school, second grade, and some drug dealer wanted to send a message. Annie just happened to be in the way of his gun.”

I bend my legs, placing my hands on top of my knees. Not everyone has a reason to carry a gun, to hunt down the people who wield ultimate power over the lives of the helpless.

We do.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It was a long time ago.”

She goes to the door, and I wait as she slides the latch. “I didn’t tell you congratulations. I guess this adds a new layer of difficulty to your chosen profession. Or maybe it changes things.”

My voice is quiet. “It changes everything. My quest for revenge doesn’t matter anymore.”

“So you’ll walk away?”

“If I get that chance.”

She nods, and I think she’s about to leave. Instead, she hesitates. “Is there anything you’d like? Anything you want to know?”

I didn’t expect her to say this, and a thousand questions flood my mind at once. “Is anyone looking for me?”

“Not yet.”

The door opens with a jerk, and she steps out.

“Wait,” I call. “One more thing.”

She puts a foot inside my room again. “What?”

My brow furrows, and I look down. “This might not be something you can tell me. If it’s not, I understand. Renee said something… about my mother. She said she knows who she was.” Swallowing the pain in my throat I continue. “If you could tell me who I really am… It’s something I’ve always wanted to know. I’d like to know before…” I don’t know how I want to finish that sentence.

Shooter thinks about my request. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re good, Hit Girl. Your story deserves a better ending than dying alone in an underground cell.”

“Maybe I’ll get one.”

* * *
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HIT GIRL
by Tia Louise
(c) TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Molly

Mist coats my cheeks as I stand, gazing up at the high-rise hotel.

The time for check out has come and gone, and I imagine housekeeping entering the space I meticulously cleaned and then quietly exited last night…

It’s possible they won’t understand right away that Dennis Langley, the former occupant of Room 1021, is dead.

Then again, it looks like they do.

Two police cruisers speed up silently like great white sharks and park around the corner.

I’m across the street, and I step farther back, passing through the foot traffic on the busy city sidewalk to a courtyard with a pop-up Starbucks. A few burned-out hippies are asleep on benches.

Are they called hippies now? They have faded dreadlocks and Goodwill clothes, but they’re not much older than I am.

By contrast, I’m wearing tight black pants, flats, and a beige trench coat over a black turtleneck. An unnecessary pair of dark shades is over my eyes on this overcast day, but I don’t remove them.

A man I recognize steps out of the building and pauses at the entrance to speak to two uniformed officers. His name is Hendricks; he’s the police chief. He was on the scene the night Lara shot Gavin.

Gavin ran an underground sex club specializing in fetishes, including sex with minors. It was where I first encountered Dennis in that room below the tattoo parlor.

When that party was raided, I ran after the leader. I was determined to kill him, but Gavin was too big and too strong for me. He saw me coming, and he knew what I intended to do to him.

He held me by the neck against the wall of his office, and for the first time in my life, I was certain I was going to die.

Joshua tried to save me, but Gavin knocked him out cold. Gavin hit him so hard that even as the heat burned my eyes and I felt my life slipping away, I worried Joshua would die too.

My heart broke…

Then a gunshot sounded.

As if drawn by the magnetism of my gaze, Chief Hendricks looks across the street directly at me.

It’s impossible he recognizes me, but he doesn’t look away. He returns my stare, and I hear the words of my mentor, Courage, above all things, is the first quality of the warrior.

I’m not backing down. For several seconds, I feel proud. I’m glad Hendricks is the one on the scene, because the minute he runs a background check, he’ll learn Dennis Langley was a known pedophile and child pornographer.

That’s right, Hendricks. I did what you couldn’t do.

And just like that, like the tide returning to shore, caution pushes me to fade into the background, disappear without a trace.

Not that I’m afraid to go to jail. I feel confident I could survive jail. It’s not that… It’s this weakness I’ve developed in the past year.

It’s Joshua.

My jaw clenches, and I fight the notion the way I do every time it tries to come up. I cannot be in love with Joshua.

I cannot be in love with anyone.

Still… it’s impossible to deny how my body, my heart, and my soul long for him. When he smiles, it curls the tips of my toes, happiness expands in my chest.

Lowering my face, I turn away from the scene of my crime. I put my hands in my pockets and walk with purpose away from here...

* * *
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EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
HIT GIRL
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Molly

“Joshua?” My eyes widen, and his lips curl with a smile.

The horned mask still covers his face, but I recognize his gray eyes burning with lust from behind the brown fur.

“Yes.” The word escapes on a hot breath.

Fear and panic melt quickly into desire, and I let him pull me to the dark hallway, deeper into the recesses of the building. I’m hot and my panties grow wetter as he leads me through a narrow door into an empty courtyard with a fountain.

It’s dark, and even with the loud, hypnotic drums we can hear the constant trickle of water. It’s overwhelmed by the sound of our pants, my moans as he kisses me, our mouths colliding, his tongue finding mine.

“Joshua,” I whisper. “I want you…”

My heart is flying in my chest, and I’m about to beg when he turns me at once, ripping my skirt over my ass and tearing my thong aside with a low growl.

“Yes!” I grip the lattice wall in front of me and arch my back for him to enter.

His heat was at my back and I strain for his lips. He steps closer, pushing my thighs apart, the fine hair on his legs tickling my sensitive skin.

“Oh, God.” My voice trembles at the sensation.

His kiss is consuming, demanding, and with a hard thrust, he drives his cock into my wet heat, lifting me onto my toes. Our mouths break apart as we moan loudly.

We’re completely hidden in a cove of wisteria, and he fucks me hard. His chest is against my back and he bites and sucks at my neck. My nipples are tight, and I want this. I want him to take me, own me.

The drums grow louder, more intense, fast and pulsing in time with our movements. Long fingers circle my thighs, gathering my skirt and finding the place between my legs. He caresses me, circling fast. I cry out, my body vibrating with the beat of the drums, the sharp invasion of his cock.

My hands brace against the wall, my knuckles white as I clutch the wooden slats. My entire focus is on Joshua, the noise of the drums, his fingers circling my clit, his iron rod driving deeper, harder, impaling me, claiming me.

I’m feverish as I start to come. My core muscles clench, gripping and pulling as my knees go liquid.

“Joshua,” I gasp. “Yes, yes…”

My screams are lost in the mêlée, but his hand covers my mouth. I open it, and a long finger dips inside. I suck it, and he fucks me harder. The upward motion of his thrusts are the only thing keeping me on my feet.

His body arches forward, and he growls in my ear. “Mine.” It’s possessive and primal, and I break into more spasms around him as another orgasm races through me. “Yes. You’re mine.”

Releasing the lattice, I reach behind my shoulder to hold his neck. His hands slide up the inside of my shirt, palming my breasts and pulling my nipples. I come again, and I hear him groan loudly. His thighs quiver as the waves of orgasm take us both.

“Say it,” he breathes, kissing my neck, biting my skin, pulsing deep inside, filling me. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

No hesitation…

* * *

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★★★ EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT ★★★
UNDER THE LIGHTS
by Tia Louise
(c) TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Lara

We’re interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Rosa steps back to open it, and my eyes rise to meet… beautiful blue.

“Roland sent me to…” Mark’s voice cuts off as he takes in my appearance. Then it drops to a whisper. “You look—”

“I’ll check on Molly,” Rosa steps to the side and pushes past him out the door.

She’s gone, and we’re alone in my room. His reaction makes my stomach tighten, tingling heat rises up my thighs, centering in my core. I look away, reaching for the barrette and unfastening it from my hair.

One tug and a dark curtain falls across my hot-pink cheeks and exposed breasts.

Mark’s breath is audible. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

My shoulders tremble. I want him to see me—I want only him to see me—but I’m not used to the power of my body. I’m intimidated by its effect on men.

Blinking up, our eyes meet, and his are dark, drinking in my breasts, my legs, my bare pussy hidden behind the dark heart.

“I wish…” His voice trails off.

My voice is barely audible. “What do you wish?”

Navy eyes blink to mine, and the hunger there makes my knees weak. “I wish you were mine. Only mine. I wish I could touch you. I wish I was a rich man, so I could take you far from here.”

“Only fools make wishes here.”

His head moves side to side, and he smiles. “Oh, beautiful girl, I’d trade being a fool here with you for a lifetime anywhere else…”

* * *

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★★★ EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT ★★★
UNDER THE LIGHTS
by Tia Louise
(c) TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Lara

I cross the space to him, not waiting for him to come to me. He smiles and pulls me close, and I sigh at the feel of the hair on his chest tickling my sensitive nipples.

“You feel so good,” I whisper.

“Aren’t I supposed to say that?” Large hands move from my waist up the sides of my back, scratching my sensitive skin with his bandages.

His lips touch my neck, and the light scruff on his cheek sends thrills radiating to my core.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, every inch of me burning for his touch.

“I’d planned to invite you to my place,” he says against my skin, and I shudder.

“There isn’t time.” I hold his cheeks so I can find his delicious mouth.

Our kisses are hot and wet. I kiss him slowly, tasting his sweetness, fresh water, a hint of mint. He kisses me deeper, holding the back of my neck as he guides us to my small bed.

Gently, he lays me on my back, spreading the robe apart and running his eyes down the length of my naked body like a caress. I wriggle out of the velvet, an ache spreading in my core, a deep need I never knew existed.

He toes off his boots, first one, then the other, his eyes never leaving me. I slide my palms over my stomach, up to my breasts, circling and holding them as his hands work at the waist of his jeans.

“Shit, Lara,” he groans. “What are you doing to me?”

I don’t know. I only know my body craves touch, his touch. My hands slide down to cup the need I feel between my thighs. He hisses, watching my fingers slowly circling, and when he shoves his jeans down, my breath catches.

My eyes widen.

He’s huge, long and thick.

“Mark…” His name escapes on a sigh, and he fists his cock, sliding the dampness over the tip and down, causing my insides to clench...

* * *

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★★★ EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT ★★★
SAVE ME
By Tia Louise

Chapter 1: Jessa

The metal bar cuts into my sternum. I’m lying flat on my stomach across a network of steel twenty feet above the concrete floor, and my last chance to anchor my safety line is gone.

Our mark and his men slowly fill the open, warehouse. Every move is a potential echo, and these guys are edgier than sinners in church. Lifting the rifle, I slowly exhale through the pain of the sharp beam against my skin. A bead of sweat trickles from behind my ear down my neck, and my heart hammers in my chest.

Just get this shot off, Jessa.

Half the battle is in the mind. Mind over matter. Mind over pain. Mind over balance. With slow, deliberate motions, I adjust the position of my M14 rifle. The movement causes a wobble to the left. Fear shoots through my veins. A fall from this height would be fatal.

The low voices of the men grow louder, and I quickly push the fear out of my brain to focus. This isn’t my first rodeo. Closing one eye, I take aim on the leader, but a fight breaks out. Two of the men are shoving each other against boxes of paper.

Looking up, my eyes flicker across the metal network just below the ceiling. Mace is at the far side of the warehouse holding a UMP-45. The sound suppressor adds six inches to the tip of his submachine gun, making it just visible from my location. He’s watching me. Our eyes meet, and even at this distance, I know he’s worried. He can see I’m in trouble.

I can’t stay in this position much longer. I’ve got to get this shot off, take out as many of them by surprise as possible, and hope I can catch myself when I fall. The scope is at my eye, and my finger is gently squeezing the trigger. The Barracuda is in my sight…

TICK! TICK! TICK!

With the silencer on, the blasts of my gun sound more like an air rifle, but the effect is far bloodier.

“What the FUCK!” One of his capos dashes forward just as their leader falls.

Turning the gun, I continue firing as my body wobbles violently on the beam. Another goes down… another… it’s not enough. They’ve spotted me, and now the return fire has begun. Sparks fly around me as the bullets ricochet off the metal girders.

My gun falls from my hands as I lose my balance. “NO!” I scream involuntarily as my body slips off my perch.

Twisting my torso, I flail my arms around, stretching and reaching for the metal rod on which I was just lying. My fingernails scratch on the surface just as it slips out of my grasp…

White fills my vision. I’m going down. It all happens so fast, and just like every cliché I’ve ever heard, my life flashes before my eyes.

I remember being eighteen and seeing my grandmother killed in the crossfire of a drug war. I remember my tears and vowing to dedicate my life to hunting down the men responsible for her death.

I see myself at the academy, a young recruit. I see myself meeting my friend and tech guru Christine, and how she was just as green as me those first days. I remember confiding in her how I didn’t believe I could ever combine my passion for my work with falling in love, starting a family. I remember her arguing with me that we could. She could, I’d thought…

Then I remember the first moment I saw Mason “Mace” Moscaretti, standing in the rubble of a Colombian drug compound, looking like the sexiest G.I. Joe I’d ever seen. He changed everything.

Tears are in my eyes as I brace for the slam of concrete that will end my life. We never had time to make a baby…

* * *
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