Lucas Stone Primal Justice Series – Mark Allen (1)

Had she not been hanging onto her last strand of desperate hope, Sonya no doubt would have seen it too. But instead, she never saw it coming. The leader looked over at the two men holding Ted and gave them a nod. They let go of the helpless man, who immediately dropped to his knees, head lolling weakly forward until his chin touched his chest. In one violent blur of motion, the smaller guy whipped out a scalpel, jerked Ted’s head back, and sliced his throat wide open with a quick, clean, surgical cut.

Clearly not the killer’s first rodeo. Carson saw the flesh gape and the blood gush. “NOOOOO!” Sonya screamed. The horrible cry ricocheted off the boulders surrounding the hollow and echoed back like a torturous taunt. Ted clutched at his slashed throat for a moment, his fingers funneling the spraying blood into jets, and then toppled onto his face. He exhaled his final breath in a wet gurgle as the ground beneath him turned to crimson mud.

Sonya threw herself at the leader in a grief-stricken rage, pounding her fists against his chest as she screamed, “You bastard! You promised!” But that outburst sapped her last reserves of strength, and she slid to the ground, kneeling in front of her captor, arms now hanging limply at her side. “You promised,” she whimpered. “You promised you would let us go.” She sounded betrayed, as if she had actually believed the pack of killers would keep their word.

The leader sneered down at the woman on her knees before him, then grabbed his sawed-off shotgun and rammed it into her face. “I should shove this down your throat and pull the trigger,” he growled. “Watch your pretty little head come apart.”

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in reviews. Any use of this publication to train generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies is expressly prohibited. This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Wolfpack Publishing is not associated with any product or vendor in this book. eBook ISBN 978-1-68549-754-5 Paperback ISBN 978-1-68549-755-2 OceanofPDF.com CONTENTS Get your FREE eBook copy of The Devil’s Guns Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue A Look at: The Assassin’s Prayer Get your FREE eBook copy of The Devil’s Guns About the Author OceanofPDF.com GET YOUR FREE EBOOK COPY OF THE DEVIL’S GUNS Join Mark Allen’s mailing list for information on new releases, updates, discount offers and your FREE e-book copy of The Devil’s Guns.

OceanofPDF.com This one’s for Derric. Hope you’re giving the angels hell. OceanofPDF.com HELL’S HARVEST OCEANOFPDF.COM PROLOGUE MICHAEL DONNER, his wife Lisa, and fourteen-year-old son Carson sat at their kitchen table, together as a family, dinner spread out before them. It was their evening ritual. Maybe not quite sacred, but important enough that they tried to do it as often as possible. This being Friday night and nobody had felt like cooking, Lisa had picked up pizza and wings from the local Italian restaurant on her way home from work.

Extra pepperoni on the pie, mild sauce on the chicken, with both ranch and blue cheese on the side, just the way they all liked it. There was also a two-liter of Pepsi—and a six-pack of Coors Light for Michael—to wash it all down. Usually, they spent dinner time catching up with each other on the day’s events, planning a vacation, debating politics or religion, and just generally bonding.

Had anyone asked, Mike would have readily told them that they were a close-knit family and having supper together most nights was one of the reasons why, part of the glue that kept them all together. But not tonight.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 003cf2cc32a7c15e
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 2,787,158 bytes (2.658 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• ISBN: 9781685497545, 9781685497552
• Pages: 195
• Language: English (en)

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