Elite Ghosts Blog Tour! (+Giveaway!)

Title: Elite Ghosts

Author: Various

Series: Elite Warriors #2

Pages: 775

Date Published: 2015

Publisher: Never Settle Publishing

Format: Kindle

Source: Goddess Fish Blog Tours

Synopsis:

For more than two years they’ve been ghosts. Nothing but names on empty tombstones. Men and women forced to fade into the background after being pulled from the rubble. Dead Marines saved from a fate worse than death, but ordered to stand down while their lives disappeared all around them.

Some knew it could happen if a mission exploded. Double crossed by more than just Red Wolf. But now is their time to be reborn from the flames of a Phoenix. No longer imprisoned in the shadows. A half-life between them and their future. To make things right coming back to life is their only option.

~Try an Excerpt!~

Target: Tungsten Excerpt By Heather Long

The black-garbed, anonymous soldiers who picked them up and dragged them back to the team moved forward. Three stood next to Poppy, the other four were beside Titanium.

How the fuck is he even alive?

“It’s time,” Titanium announced.

One by one, the ghosts removed their hoods—revealing face after familiar face.

Silence.

As if a nuke obliterated all thought in the room, everyone stood frozen. Waiting to wake up. Maybe waiting for the shock to sink in.

Zinc, Tungsten, Tin, Nickel, Thallium, Lithium and Uranium were alive. Everyone who had “died” in Russia stood side-by-side. Everyone but Gold.

Tungsten stared at Copper. Their eyes locked before he slid his gray-green gaze to Gabriel then back to her.

Gabriel palmed Copper’s shoulder, the weight of his fingers grounding her as the world seemed to slip sideways. Merc moved in front of her a half step. Brad? Her mind couldn’t process the data she’d received. Brad. Alive.

Alive.

Brad isn’t dead.

No. He died. When she’d stood inside the casino and an explosion tore it apart, silence accompanied the roar. A silence so profound, it threatened to swallow her. She remembered the first time the world swallowed her. When it spit her back out, Brad and so many others were dead. The second time, she’d woken beneath rubble and debris atop Cobalt—alone in the dark with a dead man.

No fire accompanied the second detonation, but the silence exploded all around her. Merc shifted more, breaking her line of sight, then the sound rushed in, flooding her. She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t be there.

I can’t do this.

Chrome’s voice pulled the pin on the grenade. “What. The. Fuck…”

~My Name Is Bradley~

My name is Bradley Peck…

The first time he woke, the world wavered, shivering in and out of focus. Pressure held his eye open, and an unfamiliar woman leaned in so close he could almost taste the peppermint on her breath. Blonde with a touch of gray at her temples and laugh lines creating deep grooves at the corners of her eyes—she was the wrong woman. A bright light struck his field of vision, drowning out the image.

The second time, the gray-blonde had been replaced by a curvy latina with a no-nonsense expression. Instead of peering in his eyes, she wrote something on a chart. The dark hair was closer to the right woman. He tried to turn his head. The sterile room—a hospital—had no distinguishing marks. 

“Hey, you’re awake.” The woman set aside the chart and turned to him. “Can you hear me?”

No, the voice was wrong. She didn’t belong. He opened his mouth, but his lips cracked. The pain, so incidental, seemed to consume him.

“Don’t try to talk yet. You’ve just had the tube taken out.” She pressed a straw to his lips and then he heard a hiss of air as she squeezed. Water trickled over his parched mouth. Too little, he could barely swallow it though. “We’ve got you on fluids, and the doctor will be in shortly. We were getting worried there for a while…”

Who was we? Why did she care?

He tried to speak, but the only sound that came out was a croak. Exhaustion swamped him, and he fought a pitched battle against the drowsiness sucking him down.

The third time he woke, no one was in the room. Just machines, beeping quietly. His vitals were steady. His throat no where near as painful. A pitcher and plastic cup sat on the table near him. Stretching an arm, he tried to ignore the tremor in his muscles as he fought to close his hand around the cup. It took a pathetically long time to grasp it, then carry it to his lips. Barely able to create suction, he finally managed to get a drink.

Greedy, he took another, then another and too soon the cup was empty. The bed had controls, he had to find them. Dropping the empty cup, he began to pat the sides of the bed. A remote hung by a cord near his left hand. The fingers spasmed as he forced them closed around the device.

Focusing on the six buttons, he identified the one he wanted and pressed it. The machinery whirred as it pushed him into a seated position. Pain lanced through his head with every little pulse of motion. Upright, he leaned over the side of the bed and threw up the water. It came out of him in little convulsions, adding another hammer to skull.

A door opened and the gray-blonde nurse stormed in. “You shouldn’t be up yet.” Weaker than a kitten he tried to keep her from wresting the control from him. He lost. Slumping back against the pillows, he glared at her. Not remotely cowed, she pressed a button until he began to return to a more prone position.

“Where is she?”

Pressure suddenly ballooned on his arm, and she clucked her tongue at him. “You need to relax, Gunnery Sergeant. Take some breaths, and calm down.”

“Where is she?” The croaking sound of his voice rasped against his nerves. He didn’t care. Where was she? How long had he been there? The last thing he remembered was Operation Phoenix going up in flames.

“Your blood pressure is too high, Gunny, I need you to calm down and breathe with me.” When she would have set the control down, he grabbed her arm and jerked her forward. The nurse’s eyes widened, then more people were in the room. Men gripped him, another man peeled his fingers off the nurse.

Ice flowed into his veins, someone had injected something into his banana bag. A sedative.

“Fuckers.” He wanted to punch them, but he couldn’t break their hold. Nothing he did worked. The darkness crawled over him, and he fought it. “Where is she?”

“Calm down, Gunny.” An unfamiliar voice told him. “You need to rest.”

No, he didn’t. He needed her.

The fourth time he woke, he wasn’t alone in his room anymore. He was in a different one, and he recognized some of the figures in the other beds—Zinc lay in the one nearest him. Nickel in another. No…she was the wrong woman.

His heart fisted in his chest. Pushing himself up, he studied each of the beds. Nickel was the only woman there.

Fuck no.

His mind refused to accept the evidence his eyes offered him. A masked figure entered and strode through the room. No gray-blonde nurse. No latina. The man stopped at his bedside and checked—restraints. His knuckles were raw in places, and his fingertips bloody. They’d restrained him.

“Are you more coherent this time?” The man asked, his voice had a nasal quality, as though stuffed up. Or maybe someone had broken his nose.

He said nothing.

“I know you’re awake. Are you coherent? If you can be reasonable we can take the restraints off.”

“My name is Bradley Peck, Gunnery Sergeant, United States Marine Corps.” Then he recited his serial number. They weren’t getting one other damn thing out of him.

The figure wasn’t the only one who came to talk to him. Brad ignored them all. The only woman in the room was the wrong one.

Where was his girl? Where the hell was Sachi?

The authors will be awarding a copy of the book to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
a Rafflecopter giveaway