Demolition Queen - Champagne, Murder & Chaos

Knocking down walls, fencing like a pro, and guzzling champagne is all in a day’s work on Sam Albany’s demolition-action TV show. So, life for this American in England is pretty darn great, until… …the ‘love-of-her-life’ fatally crashes into a Swiss mountainside and she marries Conrad who loves three things, a glittering aristocratic lifestyle, his successful anti-fraud company, and jealously controlling his new wife, Sam. That’s not the worst of it. Someone has hijacked the life-saving bio-technology her brilliant Mom developed. When people start dying, Sam sets-off on the most bizarre and perilous scavenger hunt of her life. She kidnaps, demolishes, and shoots her way through Europe, determined to save the day. That’s if she manages to stay alive. Excerpt from the book: I knew Jake was unconventional from the start. It kind of fit. I wasn’t too conventional myself. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been halfway up the steep Swiss mountain trail in a freak storm wiping clumps of snow from my wind-whipped cheeks and hopelessly tangled blond hair. Couldn’t see a thing. Not a single Grindelwald chalet in the disappearing valley below. Not the imposing Jungfrau Mountain across the way. Not even Jake who’d sprinted up the trail under beautiful blue skies. Brown chin-length hair in a blunt ponytail. Folded purple hang glider slung over one shoulder. Unmistakable extreme-sport glint sparkling in his Foster-beer-can-blue eyes. No doubt, he’d headed up to play an insane game of “tag” where hang gliders darted and dove dangerously close to rocky cliffs and each other. I just hoped I wasn’t too late to join in. I was only ten minutes behind, carrying my own hang glider. I also had my ever-present plumber’s bag. Never left home without tools. Hated getting caught out. My bag only held mini-binoculars, climbing rope, lightweight hammer, pocketknife, and my favorite long, red plumber’s wrench. I should have caught up. A half hour up the trail, I heard snow crunching under boots and my ears perked up. Then three men squeezed past me with disgruntled nods and sagging gliders as they headed back downhill. Jake wasn’t one of them. If and when I found him and he hadn’t got his danger fix, he’d be way more than just disgruntled. More like royally ticked off. Not the best time to share my recent revelation. One that shocked the heck out of me. One I wasn’t sure how to phrase. “Jake, you’re the love of my life.” Ugh. “You complete me.” Too Jerry Maguire. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Gawd, no. I felt my lip curl as I pictured him fixing his intense blue eyes on mine, waiting for me to explain. As if I could. This sudden about-face didn’t even make sense to me. I just wanted him, dammit, even with his insane stunts, like hang glider tag. Although, I probably wouldn’t have said the same the night we met just over a year ago. *** I’d wandered into a Swiss après-ski bar at the base of this very mountain and spotted an extremely drunk, extremely cute guy swinging upside down from a deer antler chandelier. Grinning, I tilted my head sideways to admire his body and rugged, unshaven face. “I don’t think we’ll ever get ole Jake down,” said the bartender. Sounded like a challenge to me. My grin widened. My turquoise eyes probably sparkled too. About that time, one of Jake’s blue-jeaned legs slipped from the chandelier. I lurched in his direction. Honest to God, my plan was merely to help him down. Instead, my hiking boot caught the strap of my plumber’s bag, and I began to fall. Of course, to catch myself, I grabbed the only thing in reach: Jake’s brawny, swinging wrists. So, as I regained my footing, I yanked him from the chandelier. I felt a rush of air as his body plummeted past my face, an inch from my nose. The bar floor shook under my work boots as he crashed front first onto a table full of shot glasses and beer mugs. He didn’t move. Not right away. Neither did I. I’d done enough already. Felt like an eternity...