HOLD ON
Two lovers! A deadly
conspiracy! A race to freedom!
When Carringby Industries, a
government-contracted arms manufacturer, is raided by what appear to be
terrorists, the CEO’s secretary, Belinda Reese, is rescued by Brandon Drake, a
dashing young AWOL soldier. Using an experimental test aircraft, he flees with
her to his remote, isolated cabin in the mountains of Aspen.
While
assisting in the design of military weaponry, Brandon discovered a plot within
his own government to attack its own facilities, under the guidance of immoral
politician, Senator Garrison Treadwell. Belinda’s body was not found among the
dead at Carringby Industries, and Treadwell suspects that Drake was responsible
for rescuing her. In an effort to entrap him, Treadwell arranges for an all
points bulletin to be placed on Belinda.
Deeply in love, Brandon and
Belinda attempt to escape from America, only to endure one harrowing experience
after another as they try to evade and expose Treadwell’s corrupt
faction.
But on the run, with danger around every corner, Brandon makes
a discovery so devastating that it shatters the very foundations of his
reality.
Hold On (Romantic Suspense Thriller)
By Peter Darley
Soul Mate Publishing
ISBN #978-1619355026
Price $2.99
290 Pages
Rating 5-Stars
Belinda Reese, a secretary for Carringby Industry, a
company with military contracts, is waiting for quitting time when masked men
come into the building with military efficiency; start shooting everybody, then
set bombs to destroy the building. She has hidden in the bathroom, and now
tries to escape through the engulfing fire. A figure appears suddenly through
all the smoke, and takes her to safety, but from then on life becomes a
dangerous peril. Her rescuer, Brandon Drake, an AWOL soldier, hides them from
rogue government agents, while attempting to foil their attacks against America.
This was an exciting read, with plenty of action, some
chapters ending in cliffhangers, and amazing escapes. It even took me by
surprise when Brandon is called The Scorpion, and a chapter heading is titled
“Sting of The Scorpion”, oddly the name of a new pulp character, and
coincidentally title of the first novel, by Warren Stockholm (the pseudonym of
a woman author). My one major complaint with the story is that it ends on a
cliffhanger. Stories should have a beginning, middle, and end, and I felt
cheated. I don’t care if there is a sequel; I want a story to conclude, then
bring on your sequel. However, I understand this was written as a television cliffhanger series, so it makes sense. The writing is good, and the
story is topnotch, so anyone looking for a novel that will keep you turning the
pages, this one will satisfy you. Highly recommended, if you can accept the cliffhanger
ending.
Tom Johnson
Detective Mystery Stories
Excerpt
[Belinda] dropped to the floor and
pushed the door open only to be met with a wall of flame, causing her to
instinctively recoil. She gave herself a moment to compose herself before
seizing a break in the fire.
Darting to the left, she found herself in the
maintenance stairwell.
Below her was an inferno. It wasn’t possible for
her to go back down.
In a desperate effort to escape the fire, she
ran up the steps, but the smoke continued to engulf her.
By the time she’d reached the next flight of
stairs, only a few steps from where she’d started, she fell to her knees in a coughing
fit. Her eyes stung, watering from the smoke, but she persisted.
Despite her initial determination, she became
convinced she wasn’t going to make it. She couldn’t see anything ahead of her,
and her consciousness was slipping away . . .
She thought she could see a dark shape coming
down the stairwell toward her, through the smoke. As it came closer, she could
make out a human decked-out in black. It
has to be one of them, she
thought.
Through her squinted eyes, she could see he
wore a shiny black helmet, similar to the type worn on a motorcycle, although
far less bulky. It seemed to cover his head with a slender, streamlined fit,
and there was a reflective visor covering his face.
In her weakened condition, she resigned
herself to the belief that she was going to die. The fight was leaving her, and
smoke inhalation stole her consciousness. She couldn’t be certain whether or
not she was dreaming the man in the black helmet.
And then, she felt strong, gentle hands
cradling her face for just a moment. “P-please don’t kill me,” she mumbled.
“I’m not going to kill—”
Belinda passed out.
She woke without a sense for how long she’d
been out. Had she been unconscious for seconds? Or days? Why was everything
upside down?
She felt a tight grip on her legs below the
knees, and she was moving quickly with a jerking motion. The smoke seemed to
clearing, and the blood rushed into her head, bringing her back to
consciousness. She saw the white surface of the steps from her inverted
position, and she suddenly understood. He was running up the stairwell while carrying
her over his shoulder.
Moments later, the ground turned black and she
sensed herself being turned upright in the freezing cold. In her dazed state,
it took her a few moments to realize that she was outside.
The stranger knelt down beside her and she
shivered. “W-who . . . are you?” she asked.
“Your only way out of here.”
“Where . . . where are we?”
“We’re on the roof. We can’t go back down. The
place is a torch.”
Belinda couldn’t place his tone, but there was
a masculine depth to it that was genuine and sincere.
“Please, trust me,” he implored her. “Can you
stand up?”
“Y-yes, I think so,” she said, but her coughing
resumed.
He waited for the attack to abate before
speaking again. “I’m going to get you out of here. There’s only one way.”
As he helped her to her feet, she realized how
high up they were with the skyscrapers all around them.
“I need you to listen to me,” he said. “What’s
your name?”
“B-Belinda. Belinda Reese,” she answered
quivering, and hugged herself tightly against the chilling effects of shock and
the brutal February wind.
“All right Belinda, I need you to come over
here with me.” He motioned toward the edge of the roof. “There’s nothing to
worry about, trust me.”
As a show of good faith, he walked toward the
edge before her. Once he was standing on the ledge, he reached out and beckoned
her to join him.
Trembling, she placed one foot in front of the
other, but she froze when she saw him taking a gun-like device from his
tool-belt.
“It’s OK,” he said in a reassuring tone. “This
isn’t what you think it is. I swear to you on my own life, I’m not going to
hurt you.”
With great trepidation, she resumed her steps
toward him.
“That’s it,” he encouraged her. “Just a little
closer.”
As Belinda stopped inches away from him at the
ledge, he aimed the device toward a skyscraper opposite and brought a small
targeting sight to eye-level. Although it bore a resemblance to a gun, it
didn’t have a barrel, but rather a tennis ball-sized bulb held fast by his
palm.
He depressed a button on the top of the
metallic casing and a thin, high-tensile steel cable jettisoned from the nozzle
toward the building opposite. The cable reached the other side and a small
steel claw at the end of line clasped a maintenance rail in the center of the
roof. He pulled on the cable to ensure that it was secured, and stepped away
from the edge.
He hurried across to a maintenance stairwell
next to the entrance and climbed three steps. Once he was in position, he
wrapped the wire around an iron step above him repeatedly. From the height of
the roof’s ledge, the step would be approximately twelve inches above his own
height. Reaching height.
With a flick of a switch on top of the bulb,
the cable was locked inside the casing.
Belinda watched him, bewildered. “What are you
doing?”
Intensely focused upon his task, he didn’t
reply.
He returned to her and took another device
from his belt–a black metal tube, approximately fourteen inches in length, from
which he pulled out two hand-grips from either side.
Belinda noticed a small pulley wheel on the
underside of the tube, which he clipped onto the wire. He created a zip-line
between the two buildings.
Upon that realization, she panicked, believing
that he intended for her to hang from the hand grips and glide across to the
adjacent building. “I can’t do this. Please, I’m begging you. I can’t do it.”
He stepped back up onto the ledge. “You don’t
have to. I do. Now, take it steady and join me here.”
She raised her right leg so slowly that she
thought she would never put it down, but eventually, the tip of her shoe
settled onto the ledge.
He gently placed his hand upon her shoulder.
“All right, now grab hold of me.”
She permitted him to grasp her under her
armpits and lift her onto the ledge. She trembled with vulnerability and
vertigo. “Oh, God, please don’t let me fall.”
“You’re not going to fall.”
He carefully placed her arms around his chest.
She immediately detected the solid base underneath his black, bullet-resistant
attire. It was clear that, beyond the Kevlar; he was muscular, heightening her
sense of safety with him. With shaking hands, she held onto him for dear life.
He gripped the pulley with his left hand and
lifted the visor with his right. Belinda looked into his deep green eyes. He
looked exactly the same to her as his voice sounded: strong, but kind.
The moment ended and he pulled the visor back
down into place.
Holding the right hand grip, he looked at her
again and gave her the most unnecessary piece of advice she had ever
heard: “Hold on!”
Link: Give Away
