Knight’s Ransom

KNIGHT’S RANSOM–BOOK3

In this the third episode of  “The E Z Knight Reports” series, E Z has a ten-million-dollar contract on his head and a whole boatload of hit men after his ass. Even worse, a young Russian beauty has just handed him a photo of his six-year-old goddaughter wearing a vest wired with enough plastic explosives to bring down the Golden Gate Bridge.

Nowadays, all E Z wants is to be left alone. He seeks an uncomplicated and safe life, living with his golden retriever, Jazzy Brass, on a sailboat in Southern California. But his past won’t cooperate. When, only two minutes before his neighbor’s sailboat blows up in front of him, he’s handed a picture of his best friend’s kidnapped daughter strapped with Semtex, he knows there’ll be no peace today. He’s stared down death more times than he can remember, but the Grim Reaper hasn’t come to harvest someone this close to him since his wife was murdered six years ago.

E Z’s former best friend, Jason Ryder, is up for an Oscar, and the man’s newly divorced wife, actress Stella Hutchins, is E Z’s very hot ex-girlfriend. With their little girl in jeopardy, they must put on a facade of normalcy on the biggest night of their lives—that could also be their last.

A walk down the Academy Awards’ red carpet is a new experience for an old Leatherneck, but former US Force Recon Marine E Z Knight isn’t shy. He’d do anything to get his goddaughter back safely—be it by bullet or by bedroom—and he must have a little of both to get to the bottom of this one.

Teaming up with a spicy little Russian who carries a Mac 10, an old woman who flips him the bird every morning, and a couple of his old comrades-in-arms, E Z’s determined to track down little Sophie Ryder’s abductors, rescue her, get her home unharmed, and do away with some very nasty bastards, all in short order. But, in the hours to come, a deadly nemesis returns from the past, and a new team of very lethal assassins strikes at his heart.

E Z never liked killing, but he’s good at it, and the next forty-eight hours are bound to be murder.

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