“POWERFUL & STEAMY ROMANTIC SUSPENSE FICTION” (Abridged Excerpt & BOOK BRIEF-I)

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SPECIAL THANKS: Cover Model – MR. BRIAN CARPENTER (Ultimate & Quintessential “Boy Next Door,” Documentary Director & Producer, Actor, Fitness & Spiritual Guru, and Former Chippindale Entertainer). Can someone say…Ooohhh my God???!!!

Photographer – Mr. Sean Kahill (The Gentleman With Sharp Shooting Eye).


An Airborne Ranger’s Story

BEST BOOK BOYFRIEND EVER!

Never Forget: That In Life & Love— “RANGERS LEAD the WAY!”

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BOOK BRIEF-I & EXCERPT


IT’S THAT TIME of BOOK SEASON, Y’ALL!

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A Teaser from My Former Fireside Chats

+18Yrs or OLDER MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY


Feel The Drama & Suspense of Their Undeniable Lust & LOVE! It Was The Music: Which Compelled & IGNITED the Wayward Lovers. It Truly Ignited Their BONES.

But know this….

Remember This….

Never FORGET This….

Sable-Ann Had A Fire & Burning Secret Deep Within Her— And She Clung To Its Sanctum The Likes of Mary Magdalene

Powerful…and Sensually Exhilarating??!!


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IGNITED BONES – Operation Moonlight Edition Link ( Please See Below)

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📚🥀✍MS. TIA’s WONDERFUL SURPRISE & SPOT-ON & EYE OPENING BOOK REVIEW! THIS REVIEW TRULY HUMBLED & SURPRISED ME. MAD LUV TO MS. TIA FANNING!✍🥀📚

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Total 5 Star Read
Powerful Storylines Garner Powerful Reviews! Wow….

🇺🇸🥀🇺🇸MORE STAR RATINGS – FROM THE GOOD TIME PAGANS TOO—OPERATION MOONLIGHT EDITION! THE SAGA NOIRE’ CONTINUE.🇺🇸🥀🇺🇸

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A Film Noire’ In A Novel

PROLOGUE

In the movie “A DANGEROUS METHOD”, Dr. Carl Gustav Jung said it best to Sabina Spielrien, one of his most famous and infamous mistresses; “Some‐ times you have to do an unforgiveable thing, just to go on living.” Sable-Ann smelted Jung’s words, ideologies, and all that went along with it upon her very being—literally. She could not help it. This former soldier and veteran was the consummate commitment-phobic and emotional existentialist. Sable-Ann only trusted that which she felt she could control. Combined with being an incurable romantic to her ideologies and convictions, it made her an exceedingly difficult and complicated woman who possessed a credulous belief in the promises and vows of gentlemen of chivalry and due diligence. Thus, making the beauty a hard-ass libertine and lover. To say the least!

Moreover, when it came to duty, honor, and all things promised, she placed very heavy tariffs upon the gentlemen who made promises to her, considering their word an iron bond between them. She held these bonds in the highest of regard. They signaled the high bars and benchmarks of her repartee’, with such men. The bonded words of two such gentlemen had marked her belief, intimacy, and love for them. Their promises, once spoken, became chiseled on her very spirit with chivalry, valor, and unsurpassed faith!

However, destiny and fate can be extremely fickle and feckless, at times. The unpredictability’s of Major Glen and Lord Foxington challenged Sable-Ann’s credulity and core values, the likes of the duel between Burr and Hamilton. Who would end up slaying whom was the question lingering in the very air around this trio? Literally! This cast their sacred covenant into an intrinsic and inti‐ mate vicious cycle the trio of primal emancipators had yet to experience—thus, consuming all that they cherished socially, emotionally, and psychologically into the possibility of burning cinders! (Existentialist…or not!)

The Mercilessness of Duty, Lust…and PTSD….

Aviano, Italia 2015

MAJOR GLEN’S DARK OPS TEAM & RIGHT HAND MAN (SFC HASKILL)

ABRIDGED EXCERPT & BRIEF

OPERATION MOONLIGHT

Under a crisp, cold night sky filled with twinkling, endless stars, military aircraft of American and Russian forces were locked in a blazing firefight over the Italian Alps. In the midst of it was the prize: a medevac heli‐ copter packed to the nines with wounded Dark Ops members. And, of course, three dead soldiers. Of the dead were Master Sergeant Graves, Colonel Pache’, and Lieu‐ tenant McDaniel. Ohhh…fucking hell! The mission, dubbed Operation Moonlight, was anything but routine. Still, the Russian attack came as a surprise. Two American Blackhawk gunships had been assigned to protect the medevac copter’s precious cargo as the convoy surged hard over the Alps from war-torn Bosnia. The pilots had been aiming toward their designated landing zones, or LZs, just over the mountains in Italy.

As the convoy entered Allied airspace, hellfire erupted behind them. Seven or eight Russian bogies were now hard on their tail. Sergeant First Class Haskell bit down hard on an unlit cigarette, watching the action from his gunship. Enemy fire had forced his pilot to veer off toward the snow-laden foot of the Alps in an evasive maneuver. SFC Haskell scowled at Russian fighter jets zipping around the snowcapped moun‐ tain peak, leaving his Blackhawk no opening to re-engage the enemy.

A bitter realization roiled in his gut: Operation Moonlight was dissolving into one full-blown clusterfuck! This whole mission was spinning out of control. Relieved, he noted that two more gunships from his team’s base at Aviano had joined the fight, but with so many enemy aircraft involved, his boys soon were on the run. There was a spot of good fortune: an early morning mist rose from the frozen alpine expanses, providing an extra blanket of cover to conceal his forces. Timing and cover, at that point, were needed.

Despite this small advantage, Haskell saw that the enemy ships were spreading out into a threatening attack formation. The threat matrix level was now elevated, even further. Time to kill or be killed, so to speak! Suddenly, the skies became too crowded for this maneuver. Other Allied gunships rose up to join the fray! The Russian attack had triggered an alert that spread across European coms like a viral video, sending Allied military assets on the ground into scramble mode. Their F-22 fighter jets swarmed up from the cramped valley below.

Of course, in hot pursuit! The deadly Russian planes that targeted the medevac ship tried to slide in for the kill. The skies around them lit up like the goddamn Fourth of July! The predator drones of the Allies had fully engaged and proceeded to pick off the enemy threats with simultaneous direct hits. Boom, Boom, Boom! Those damn drones were not fucking playing—not one bit! Though their F-22 escorts were giving his convoy cover and quarter, Haskell still itched to join in the gunfight.

He barked an order to his pilot to engage and moved toward the sliding door at the rear of the Blackhawk. Haskell casually flipped the safety off, arming his AR-15. The enemy was so close he could almost feel the pilot’s hot breath on his cheek. Haskell felt alive, hungry to feel the rush of exhilaration and the massive hard-on he would get from the engagement. It would not be over for him until his feet hit solid ground, if at all. The sergeant’s mind was all kinds of laser-focused—on the firefight, their forces, and Major Glen, the mission’s commander, and team leader.

The last thing on earth SFC Haskell and Major Glen needed right now was a failed mission. Haskell burned at the knowledge: This mission has gone to hell in a handbasket! It should have been a fucking cakewalk—how the hell did we blow it? The engagement had begun to fall apart under a barrage of bullets and guerillas in the mist, so to speak!

Despite the onset of hailing bullets, the closely guarded medevac ship was afforded the opportunity to descend towards the awaiting medical teams and designated hangers on the ground; set to the military left of Haskell’s gunship, on the tarmac below. It was imperative that the ship; its wounded and the dead; made it safely to their appropriate handlers and medical responders, rather this mission was a clusterfuck, or not! Fucking Damnation!

MAJOR REPERCUSSIONS

On the ground, the retreating American ships were descending to their landing zones. Major Glen’s Blackhawk reached the LZ and hit the damn tarmac at top speed. Haskell’s gunship came in hot behind Major Glen’s. As their team members climbed out of their ships, stark bewilderment and awe etched their faces. But Major Glen and his men would have no time to unwind from the skirmish before the shit hit the proverbial fan. In a hanger to the left of their LZ, the so-called “alphabet boys” of the NSA, CIA, and DHS were waiting to take Major Glen’s report. The hanger to their right held designated military brass awaiting the other members of the team. No commander wished to end a mission this way, facing bristling officials glaring at them center mass with eyes like bayonets ready to puncture flesh. The shit just got real!

Once the other team members were out of their gunships, they were hustled toward the opposite hanger to be debriefed and handled according to protocol. Meanwhile, Major Glen and SFC Haskell, Glen’s right-hand man, hurried toward a motorcade of black bulletproof vehicles waiting on standby with motors running and ready to roll out. The mission’s handler, Mr. Eaves, came rushing across the tarmac.

The tension showing in Mr. E’s face told them their instincts were on point. Mr. Eaves could not afford any more screw-ups on his watch. Timing and execution were of the utmost importance. Shortly before, Eaves had received a hand-carried order from the office of the Defense Secretary. The DEFSEC office demanded answers from Mr. E and the sources on the ground—the combatants possessed intel that was priceless to national security concerns. DEFSEC’s order drove home the point that it was of the highest priority and urgency to get the Major and his E-7 debriefed and stateside, immediately! Someone would have to answer for this clusterfuck.

Straight away, Mr. Eaves handed the Major and Haskell their respective packets. Then, too late for afterthoughts, he rushed the two Rangers to the motorcade. Haskell led the way with the Major following behind. Deep within the Major’s bloodshot eyes were guarded uncertainties. The officer and gentleman searched his mind for a logical explanation of what the hell had gone so batshit crazy on this mission. Mr. Eaves ushered the two men into their awaiting vehicles, and off they went. On the way, SFC Haskell fired off a text to his team leader: “Mr. E sure was wound tight as a damn drum.”

“Major Glen texted back: ‘Don’t forget, our failure is his failure.’

Then SFC Haskell followed it with a flurry of texts….

“After our ass-chewing, U need 2 get the fuck out of dodge’ with a quickness, Sir.”

“Don’t take your ass to that Fed up, soon to be ex-wife of yours. Go to HER!’

“You know exactly who I am talking about commander”

There was a short pause, but only for a few seconds. Haskell resumed his flummoxing text messages.

“Sir, what the fuck?”

“U know who, Ms. Sable!”

Haskell suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable. He fired off another text to his commander:

“U need her to fix yr damn brain, sir. Forgive me 4 saying these things so imprudently, but it’s pertinent!” “Get right w/ this bitch or get her out of yr head & life 4 good!”

“Fix this MFing clusterfuck in yr mind right the hell now! Son, I was where U R now, emotionally & mentally. Trust my advice.”

‘This shit’s in dire need of fixing…ASAP!” “Contact me if U need an assist.”

Haskell’s chin dropped. He shook his head and softly pounded it against the windows of the SUV. The ranger and soldier within him could not believe he had just said those words of insubordination to his team commander. Yet, he did…because these were words that needed saying! Haskell both respected and dearly loved Major Glen. He would execute what needed to be done or said. Any regrets would have to come later—if at all.

Stealthily, SFC Haskell concealed his dismay and discernment for his battle buddy and trusted agent. He shut his private cell phone, then tapped it with very nervous fingers. But a second or two later, the Sergeant reopened it. It was now or never—he needed to make his points. “Iron Eagle Obama’s administration walks quietly but carries big fucking sticks!”

“Somebody’s ass gets to be hung out to dry & taught the lesson…let it not be ours!”

“They gave us some really bad intel on this one…and at too high a cost!” “No-Drama Obama’s admin has zero tolerance 4 failure!”

“Get going the moment U get this fucking debrief packet fr hell!”

Haskell closed his phone just in a nick of time. The forward movement never took a second to breathe. Its goal was simply to go on and keep in step with its forward movement until the Major and his trusted agent were debriefed and stateside. Major Glen read the text stream from Haskell twice before hitting the ground. As his eyes took in every word, his jawline hardened in complete dismay. He knew Haskell was speaking the truth he did not want to hear. He absorbed every single word of his trusted agent and confidant with due care and respect.

This revelation by SFC Haskell was a painful, gut wrenching truth he needed to face. Haskell’s words were not much a warning as a sounding of alarms! The commander within Major Glen knew instinctively that he had but one recourse. Comply with the Sergeant’s directives. His response to SFC Haskell’s texts was simple and to the point.

“Copy that! Copy that…I mean it!”

“No Illusions about the facts, Haskell.”

“Sir, what the fuck?”

“U know who, Ms. Sable!”

Haskell suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable. He fired off another text to his commander: “U need her to fix yr damn brain, sir. Forgive me 4 saying these things so imprudently, but it’s pertinent!”

“Get right w/ this bitch or get her out of yr head & life 4 good!”

“Fix this MFing clusterfuck in yr mind right the hell now! Son, I was where U R now, emotionally & mentally. Trust my advice.”

‘This shit’s in dire need of fixing…ASAP!”

“Contact me if U need an assist.”


🥀🥀🥀🔥🔥🔥🔥🥀🥀🥀

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WWWOOOWWW! WHAT A POWERHOUSE READ, LADIES & GENTLEMEN! AND… THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING.

Thank you for visiting my abridged book blog. I hope you all have enjoyed it. Trust when I say, it is a very engaging, and thought provoking read!


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Hailing from Georgia, J.Z. Luciano is a multi-genre author/writer. A Business Administration undergraduate alumni, Troy State University, and Auburn University, she also is proud to be an honorable veteran of the United States Army. In addition, Ms. Luciano is an Persian Gulf veteran. Her eyes have seen and experience a great deal of the world, to say the least. The author and veteran performed most of her military duty as a instructor, and ceremonial detail for fallen soldiers. Hers’ was an extraordinary military career. The pathway to fulfilling her dream as author was, literary, set in stone. Especially, after having served honorably, in the military. Look for dynamic, intriguing, and spellbinding bodies of work in this author’s future.


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