#Stream drag me to hell free and clean full#
#Stream drag me to hell free and clean professional#

“Hmmmmm.” The soft purr sinks into my mind, and I take in the tangle of long, naked limbs stretching out on my bed. The 9mm handgun fits too well in my grasp.

#Stream drag me to hell free and clean full#

I’m on my feet, naked as the day I was born, arms steady and stretched at full length in front of me. The gun is aimed at my waking target before my eyes have even focused.

My hand slips straight under the mattress to pull out my VP9 before my mind has even voiced its command. I’m a master at it.īut then my muscles tense all over again when the bed shifts beneath me. I close my eyes and thank the power of forged serenity. Leaning forward, I rest my forearms on my knees and stare out across the city, pushing back the nightmare to a safe corner of my mind as I breathe slowly through it. I roll my shoulders, breathing some air into my lungs before letting it stream out calmly through my nose. “Morning, world,” I mutter, tossing it back onto the nightstand before extending my arms toward the ceiling, stretching my tight muscles. Throwing my legs off the side of the bed, I grab my phone, not surprised when I find no messages or missed calls. The alarm in my head that explodes at the same time every morning is both a burden and a blessing. I know that without even looking at the clock on my bedside cabinet, and it isn’t only the rising sun that tells me so. “Motherfucker,” I breathe, allowing my eyes to adjust to the early morning glow until I can see the inky skyline of London from the panoramic window in my bedroom. I bolt up in bed, sweating and heaving, the thin sheets sticking to every part of me they touch. “See you in hell.” I pull the trigger and put a bullet in his skull. But that evil glint in his glazed eyes is still there as he mumbles a jumble of foreign words up at me. I can feel the thuds punching into my chest, even through the layers of my clothing and bulletproof vest. His heart is beating frantically behind the thin material of his filthy T-shirt. It should be me lying dead in the dirt a few meters away. A reckless, selfish need to rain holy hell on these fucked-up arseholes has resulted in the deaths of two soldiers. The intense ache in my shoulder reminds me that he nearly took me out, too. This brainwashed fucker has taken out two of my comrades.

The man I’m holding prisoner is thin and malnourished, and the whites of his eyes are tinged by yellow. I should be out of sight in the surrounding hills, invisible amid the overgrowth and rocks. I blink rapidly, shifting to keep him secure, pushing him into the gravel and grit under me. The heat, the dust, the sounds of screams around me-it’s all making it nearly impossible to focus. His eyes, wide and terrified, stare up at me, his body frozen beneath mine. Thank you for welcoming me into your online world and sticking around to see where my writing journey takes me. Thank you, Andy, for everything you do, professionally and beyond.Īnd finally, to all of you amazing bloggers and readers across the globe.

She’s a pure gem, and I still count my lucky stars every day that she found me. I’m still pretty clueless, but knowing I have Andrea by my side makes this roller coaster ride more thrilling than frightening. It’s been over three years since she and I met-when I was clueless on all things publishing and caught up in the whirlwind of This Man.

#Stream drag me to hell free and clean professional#

There is one person who I must single out-someone who means so much to me, and not just in a professional capacity. I’m a very lucky girl to have you all behind me. But just in case you don’t, to my teams here in the UK and across the water in America, thank you for continuing to be a constant support in my career. There are just so many people to thank, and I always wonder if you all get fed up of hearing it.