A little getaway takes a deadly turn for Morgan and
Kyle Murphy in this spicy suspense thriller about a
marriage filled with passion, secrets, and suspicions.
A Little Getaway
by Bonnie Traymore
Genre
Spicy Suspense Thriller
A little getaway takes a deadly turn for Morgan and
Kyle Murphy in this spicy suspense thriller about a
marriage filled with passion,
secrets, and suspicions.
Morgan Murphy has always
longed for a romance for the ages. And she’s found it with husband
Kyle Murphy—until their spicy marriage suddenly starts to cool
off.
Is Kyle preoccupied and distant because of a problem
with his development project? Or is it something worse? Could Kyle
Murphy be...cheating? He’s hiding something, that’s for sure. And
Morgan’s determined to find out what it is.
With the
help of gal pal Carla Flores, Morgan tracks her husband’s
movements, and the signs increasingly point to infidelity, the
ultimate sin in Morgan’s book. When Kyle increases their life
insurance and surprises her with a weekend getaway to get their mojo
back, she goes on the offensive and hatches a plan to make him come
clean about what’s been going on.
But before she can
pull it off, Morgan’s attacked and nearly kidnapped, and Kyle
vanishes from the resort without a trace. With no clue as to who took
Kyle or why, she’s not sure who is the biggest threat: the shady
investor he owes money to, the police, or the guys she hired to teach
Kyle a lesson. With the clock ticking, she needs to find out
soon.
Before they come for her, too.
For
fans of Liv Constantine, Kimberly Belle, Jeneva Rose, Kaira Rouda,
Freida McFadden, and Daniel Hurst.
"Edge of the seat
suspense in this riveting thriller about a husband and wife hiding
deadly secrets from each other that will keep you guessing all the
way to the explosive ending. Another winner for Bonnie Traymore!"
-- R.G. Belsky, author of the award-winning Clare Carlson series
#RomanticSuspense #ThrillerBooks #Suspensebooks #romancebooks #mysterybooks #books #readers #reading #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookbuzz #bookboost #bookrecommendations #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookPromo #AuthorPromo #writingcommunity #readerscommunity
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ONE
Morgan
I smell death in the air. A briny scent with an undercurrent of decay, wafting in from the murky sea outside our sliding glass door.
“Kyle?” I call out again.
Nothing.
Maybe he went for a walk on the beach?
But that wasn’t the plan.
Something’s not right.
I close the door and lock it.
Where did he go?
A log pops in the fireplace, and I startle. This was supposed to be a romantic little getaway, but so far, things have been tense.
“I have a surprise for you, Morgan,” he said, about a week ago.
So here I am, in this little cottage on the beach that he picked for us, in the middle of nowhere, a few miles north of Monterey Bay. A chance to rekindle our marriage. Put some spark back into it. The resort, if you could call it that, is a series of separate units on a vast swath of beachfront land, one step up from a trailer park. I suppose it could be romantic under different circumstances, with the rugged beach outside our door and a cozy fire inside.
I have a bad feeling, though. I came out of the shower and saw a few drops of blood in the bathroom sink. I figured he’d cut himself shaving. And now he’s nowhere to be found. A chill runs up my spine. This place is getting creepier by the minute. Do I wait here like a sitting duck?
The office is on the other side of the property, and I’m not sure if anyone’s there at this hour of the night. It’s not that late. Just after nine in the evening. But even when we checked in, around noon, it took a good twenty minutes for the woman to come to the front desk and help us.
I don’t want to overreact, so I decide I’ll take the car and drive to the store.
Better safe than sorry.
We talked about the fact that I needed milk for my morning coffee. It’ll buy me some time, and when I get back, maybe he’ll be here, wondering where I’ve been. And if it turns out to be nothing, I can keep this little freak out to myself.
But we took his car, so I have to find the keys. I rush into the bedroom and look around. I thought I saw them on the dresser, but they’re not there.
His pants are draped over the back of a chair.
I check the pockets.
Nothing.
My heart starts to race.
I rifle through his carry-on bag.
No luck.
His cell is gone, along with his wallet. I wonder if he went out for provisions while I was in the shower? But the car is parked near the office, a few cottages away, so I can’t see if he’s taken it. I pick up the house phone and call the front desk, thinking maybe the attendant could check if the car is there. It rings and rings and nobody answers.
My heart races even faster. Rushing into the kitchen area, I survey the options. I grab the utility knife. With its five-inch blade, it’s the best option. This is a risky move. I’ll look like a psycho walking around with it if someone sees me, and the last thing I want is to call attention to myself. But the place seems deserted, so it’s unlikely I’ll be spotted.
Who comes to a beach resort in the middle of winter?
This was his idea, I remind myself.
And now I’m here.
Alone.
At a deserted resort.
Clenching the knife in my fist, I step out the sliding glass door and start making my way to the front office.
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