Today we are thrilled to share bestselling author
Jane Harvey-Berrick’s all-new highly anticipated military romantic suspense novel, TICK TOCK

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Forget SEALS, Marines, Fighter Pilots – I have the most dangerous job in the world. And I love it.

James Spears is part of an elite group who lives and breathes danger. Where others run from it, he walks towards it, calm, focussed ice-cold. James is a top EOD operative.
Explosive…
Ordnance…
Disposal…

You’d call him a bomb disposal expert. Or crazy. A guy with a death wish. He’s heard it all before and he doesn’t give a shit. He’s the best.

They say he doesn’t have blood in his veins, he has ice. They say he has no nerves.

All that’s about to be tested.

Amira is recruited by the CIA to infiltrate a terrorist cell living in rural Pennsylvania. She’s the perfect plant, no one would ever suspect her. Because her brother was killed when a bomb was dropped on the Syrian hospital where he was working as a doctor. And now hate burns deeply inside her. She’s perfect.

That’s what they tell James when he’s told to train her to be the best damn bomb-maker there is. In a secret camp, deep in the woods, James teaches her everything he knows about building bombs. He’s not a praying man, but now he’s really hoping that he’s doing the right thing.

Codename: Hansel and Gretel

Book 1 in the EOD Series

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James

 My bedroom was hot and stuffy as usual, and as we were shipping out at dawn, I decided to shower now.

I stripped off my uniform and picked up the threadbare towel and my sleep shorts to shuffle to the bathroom. The tepid water of the shower was cooling and I stood with my eyes closed under the weak jets of water.

Yawning, ready for sleep, I pulled on my shorts over my still damp body and opened the door.

And stepped back in surprise when I saw Amira standing in front of me.

She was wearing a thin t-shirt that reached mid-thigh, just like the first morning I’d seen her, and just like that day, my eyes followed the length of her legs and the swell of her tits.

“I can’t sleep,” she said, her voice trembling, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m scared.”

As soon as she said the words, her shoulders began to shake and tremors ran through her. She held herself rigid as she tried to stop herself from crying, and her hands were knotted into tight fists while her teeth chattered. She seemed so defenceless, so vulnerable. Her eyes squeezed shut and her panting breaths came more rapidly. I recognized the onset of a panic attack half a second before she collapsed against my chest, her knees buckling. My clothes and towel dropped to the floor as I caught her, my arms automatically surrounding her, supporting her.

I lowered her down, tucking her against me as the panic held her hostage. Her long hair swept over my skin, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

I held her, trying to protect her from nameless fears. Every soldier has them—it’s the mental battle we all fight alone. This was all I could do to help her, so I held her, reassuring her with my arms.

It took a long time before her shaking subsided, but she’d kept her tears tightly under control.

As her body loosened, I tucked her head under my chin, wishing that I could help her: do more, be more.

I knew what she had to face and I knew she wasn’t ready.

“Shh,” I said, rocking her gently. “It’s okay to be scared.”

Slowly, her hands crept around my neck, brushing over my bare shoulders, her touch warm and soft.

She took a shuddering breath.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. It’s okay.”

Her lips were so close to my skin and I could feel the soft puffs of breath as she spoke.“I don’t want to be alone, James. Can I stay with you? I mean, just stay?”

I knew what it was like to crave human touch, that connection with another person. The last night before deployment left you open and exposed, a weakness that disappeared at dawn because it had to.

I kissed her hair lightly.

“Course you can.”

Her head hung down as she slowly released me and climbed unsteadily to her feet. Then I took her hand in mine, leading her to my bedroom.

“Which side do you want?” I joked, as we stared down at the narrow single cot.

She shrugged and rubbed her eyes.

“I don’t care.”

“Okay, well, you take the wall side, then if I roll over, I’ll just fall out instead of flattening you.”

Her laugh was shaky, but she nodded and clambered wearily under the thin sheet.

I squeezed in behind her, lying on my side, wondering what to do with my arm. In the end, I draped it over her waist.

She hesitated for a moment then snuggled against me.

It felt new and familiar at the same time. I wanted to find the words that would reassure her.

“I’m so scared, James. I keep thinking about what’s going to happen, thinking that I’m going to die, and it’s like looking into the future and seeing nothing—not day or night, just nothing; an endless nothing, and it’s terrifying.”

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, because I knew, I knew exactly what she meant. And I was afraid she was right.

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