Shadow Fall (Tracers Series Book 9)

New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author

LAURA GRIFFIN

“DELIVERS THE GOODS.” —
Publishers Weekly

Praise for
FAR GONE

“Perfectly gritty. . . . Griffin sprinkles on just enough jargon to give the reader the feel of being in the middle of an investigation, easily merging high-stakes action and spicy romance with rhythmic pacing and smartly economic prose.”

—Publishers Weekly
(starred review)

“Crisp storytelling, multifaceted characters, and excellent pacing. . . . A highly entertaining read.”

—
RT Book Reviews
(4 stars)

“A first-rate addition to the Laura Griffin canon.”

—
The Romance Dish
(5 stars)

“Be prepared for heart palpitations and a racing pulse as you read this fantastic novel. Fans of Lisa Gardner, Lisa Jackson, Nelson DeMille, and Michael Connelly will love [Griffin’s] work.”

—
The Reading Frenzy

“
Far Gone
is riveting with never-ending action.”

—
Single Titles

“A tense, exciting romantic thriller that’s not to be missed.”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Karen Robards

“Griffin has cooked up a delicious read that will thrill her devoted fans and earn her legions more.”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Lisa Unger

Praise for the Tracers series

BEYOND LIMITS

“Another fast-action, high-octane read that grabs you from the first page to the last.”

—
The Romance Reviews
(Top Pick)

“Daring escapades, honest emotions, and heart-stopping danger.”

—
Single Titles

EXPOSED

“Laura Griffin at her finest! If you are not a Tracer-a-holic yet . . . you will be after this.”

—
A Tasty Read

“Explosive chemistry.”

—
Coffee Time Romance & More

“Explodes with action. . . . Laura Griffin escalates the tension with each page, each scene, and intersperses the action with spine-tingling romance in a perfect blend.”

—
The Romance Reviews

SCORCHED

2013 RITA winner for Best Romantic Suspense

“A sizzling novel of suspense . . . the perfect addition to the Tracers series.”

—
Joyfully Reviewed

“Has it all: dynamite characters, a taut plot, and plenty of sizzle to balance the suspense without overwhelming it.”

—
RT Book Reviews
(4
¹
/
₂
stars)

“Starts with a bang and never loses its momentum . . . intense and mesmerizing.”

—
Night Owl Reviews
(Top Pick)

TWISTED

“The pace is wickedly fast and the story is tight and compelling.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“With a taut story line, believable characters, and a strong grasp of current forensic practice, Griffin sucks readers into this drama and doesn’t let go.”

—
RT Book Reviews
(Top Pick)

UNFORGIVABLE

“The perfect mix of suspense and romance.”

—
Booklist

“The science is fascinating, the sex is sizzling, and the story is top-notch, making this clever, breakneck tale hard to put down.”

—
Publishers Weekly

UNSPEAKABLE

“A page-turner until the last page, it’s a fabulous read!”

—
Fresh Fiction

“Laura Griffin is a master at keeping the reader in complete suspense.”

—
Single Titles

UNTRACEABLE

“Evolves like a thunderstorm on an ominous cloud of evil. . . . Intense, wildly unpredictable, and sizzling with sensuality.”

—
The Winter Haven News Chief

“Taut drama and constant action. . . . Griffin keeps the suspense high and the pace quick.”

—
Publishers Weekly
(starred review)

For Jessica

T
he whole thing took four seconds, maybe less.

Exactly three minutes before it happened, Marine Captain Liam Wolfe was standing in the dusty courtyard feeling hot, hungry, and pissed off. The first two barely registered after four long tours in Afghanistan’s summer fighting season. The last was pretty much standard since he’d started pulling personal security detail for a delegation of American politicians visiting the region.

It was an election year, and the base was thick with VIPs dropping in for photo ops. They wanted to mingle with the troops and eat in the mess hall and visit wounded children in hospitals staffed by international aid workers. This afternoon’s destination was a newly built school—a true nightmare from a tactical perspective. To add to the funfest, details of the mission hadn’t been communicated until the last minute, giving Liam’s CO almost no time to brief his team, which consisted of sixteen Marines squeezed into a three-Humvee convoy with a Virginia congressman.

Today, like all days, the team was locked and loaded and ready for anything. Bitter experience had taught them that no corner of the country was safe from bullets and IEDs, not even a school yard. Especially not a school yard.

Liam stood beside the compound’s west gate, holding his M-4 loose but ready. The sun hammered down. His nerves jangled as children’s high-pitched voices echoed around him. Just beyond the school’s cinder-block walls, the sound of car horns and truck engines rose from the dirty street. Exhaust hung in the air as Liam scanned the surrounding rooftops for the hundredth time.

In some countries, PSD work was a cushy assignment. Not in Afghanistan. Here personal security detail was a tedious job requiring total concentration. It was a constant process of seeing and assessing—people, situations, and objects, no matter how inconsequential. Anyone from the kid on the moped to the ambling old man might be jocked up with explosives and ready to ruin your day. The mission was to spot something, anything, from a furtive look to a thread of wire in the road that signaled trouble.

The hours were long. No time for distractions. No time to think about getting food or getting a nap or getting laid. No time to do anything besides be in the moment and take all that it offered.

Liam squinted into the sun, his gaze skimming over the roofline. Sweat seeped into his eyes. He lingered on the two dark windows where Marine snipers had overwatch. He looked for any sign of foreign surveillance—not just by the Afghans but by the other countries that had been monitoring the American delegation since it first came to town.

He shifted his attention to street level. Trash tumbled along in an eddy of hot air. A bearded Afghan policeman was stationed across the road, and Liam gave him a long, hard look, paying close attention to his AK. Another policeman was positioned inside the school yard, manning the east gate. Liam had his eye on both of them.

He studied the street again as banged-up trucks held together by little more than duct tape whisked past. The people here were resourceful and could make a viable vehicle out of damn near anything with wheels. Liam watched the pedestrians coming and going. An elderly man carrying a basket approached the policeman, then glanced back at the school. Liam’s fingers tensed. The old man shuffled away.

“Alpha, this is Bravo,” came a voice over the radio.

“Alpha here.”

“Yo, we’re ready to roll out.”

“Roger that.”

Liam stepped through the gate and checked the convoy. The lead vehicle had a 50-cal mounted on top, manned by Tony Lopez, the team’s best gunner. Liam caught his eye.