Resultados para "Sunshine" en Policíaca, negra y suspense

Sunshine. It's a nickname I haven't heard since I lived on Woodbury Lane, where the houses were pretty, but the secrets? Deadly. It was a pet name known only to the Bullets. Rough, violent, and ruthless, they laid claim to the town - and my heart. I wasn't supposed to fall for a boy from the wrong side of the tracks‚ especially not four of them. But they were the only ones who understood that sometimes hell hides in plain sight.

After a long career as a police officer, Moira hopes a move to a luxury retirement community will mean she can finally leave the detective work to the youngsters and focus on a quieter life. But it turns out The Homestead is far from paradise. When she discovers the body of a young woman floating in one of the pools, surrounded by thousands of dollar bills, her crime-fighting instinct kicks back in and she joins up with fellow ex-cops - and new neighbours - Philip, Lizzie and Rick to investigate the murder.

Being a contract killer for the mafia is easy. Take out the scumbag. Collect the cash. Go back to my uncomplicated life of solitude in the mountains. What I'm not prepared for is my next target. She's as innocent as I am sullied, and while most men cower in my presence, she stands up to me with enough sass and courage to stop me in my tracks. I have a decision to make. Carry out the contract and become as ruthless as the men I work for, or defy their orders and live with a target on my back. Which leaves me with one hell of an inconvenient problem.

I wasn't looking for a lover. I wasn't even looking for a friend. After my life imploded around me, I only wanted one thing: a fresh start for me and the baby I carried. That was before Ward 'Hollywood' Garrison stormed down a walkway and into my life. Cooking for me. Spending time with me. Giving me his dimpled grin and making me smile for the first time in far too long. Ward may have been charming, but he was no hero. A member of the Court of Mayhem motorcycle club, he had figurative blood on his hands—and very real blood on his shirt. He had secrets. Then again, so did I.