May is action month at BestSelling Reads. Here are some tastes of the action and mayhem you can find between the covers of some of members’ most rollicking titles.
From Motive
The bulldog looked at the old man pleadingly. He got a nod in response. “Make it quick. I want to get home.”
Bulldog took two steps toward Ryan and pulled his arm back.
That was as far as he got.
Ryan feigned with a low left to the stomach, but all his weight was behind the right hand that hit bulldog in the temple. The stocky man staggered and shook his head, desperate to stay in the fight, but Ryan pirouetted on his left foot and his right connected with bulldog’s cheek.
Ryan didn’t even watch him fall. His attention was now with the blond, who had adopted a fighter’s pose and was bouncing on the balls of his feet. He seemed calm, focused, sizing Ryan up as he danced to his left. Ryan stood his ground, waiting for the attack to come.
It was surprisingly swift.
The blond’s fist flashed towards Ryan’s head, but he jinked right just in time, the attacker’s knuckles grazing his scalp. Ryan had never faced anyone so quick, but he wasn’t fazed. He just had to make sure he landed the first telling blow.
Blond kicked out at Ryan’s groin, but he deftly blocked it and lashed out with a backhand to his opponent’s face. Blood erupted from blond’s lip, but he barely seemed to notice. He started dancing once more, looking for the opportunity to strike, but Ryan wanted this over quickly. He lashed out at the other man’s crotch with his left foot, and when blond instinctively crouched to protect his sensitive region, Ryan switched his stance and brought his right foot under blond’s chin. His head snapped backwards and he fell to the ground face first.
By Alan McDermott
From Return of the Ascendant
(Ascendant Series #1)
by Raine Thomas
Just as Kyra neared the halo of light cast by the closest lamppost, it went out. She staggered to a halt.
That was when the darkness moved.
From Avengers of Blood
By Gae-Lynn Woods
He smiled. Two for the price of one.
He pulled back the bolt to eject the spent casing into the catcher but it hit the tip of the catcher and disappeared into the gloom beneath the tree. Ignoring the hit of anxiety that flushed his system, the shooter used his chin to adjust the catcher, then slipped the bolt forward to push home a new round. He moved to his firing position and raised the rifle in one fluid motion, targeting the distraught man who lurched for the kitchen phone. Adjusting the rifle’s angle, he drew a slow breath, released it, and squeezed the trigger. He watched as the second bullet pierced the window pane and ripped through the twin’s chest, erupting in a spray of blood, bone, and tissue that blew through the steam rising from the kettle.
From Wildfire
By Scott Bury
She caught up as the figure opened the door of a small car. He whirled, his arm extended and Tara jumped back as the tip of a long blade flashed past her midriff. She fell back on her butt on the road. Years of training took control and she rolled on her back, sprang to her feet, fists raised, knees bent, her left shoulder forward to present the narrowest possible target.
A short, broad man stood beside the open door of a hatchback, brandishing something toward her. “Stay away from me, you little bitch,” he hissed.
Is that a kitchen knife? “Donald?”
“Stay away. These are mine.”
Tara shook her fists. When Donald flinched, she pivoted on her forward foot, sweeping her back foot around. Her toes smashed his wrist, Donald yelped and the knife dropped.
From The Crazy Girl’s Handbook
Pain blossomed in more than one spot as my elbows and palms hit the cement and my head whacked into the decorative stone edging that lined the grass. Thor yelped as my dead weight kept him from getting any farther, then doubled back to see what was wrong and stomped all over me at least three times before settling on my head. By the time my senses cleared, I was so tangled in leash and puppy I couldn’t even figure out where to start. My head and arms throbbing didn’t help at all.
By DelSheree Gladden
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