My name is Jordan Sutton, a highly educated forty-two-year-old spinster. I have to tell you… I freaking hate that word but… it is what it is, no use busting my balls over it. Either way, it doesn't matter. I can hold my own among any chick half my age… and I'll have you know— I'll do it wearing my fave stilettos! I've been a co-owner of The Red Reign PI Agency but as an ex-army ranger and an expert strategist in counter terrorism, here I am, stuck back in Iraq. Yeah, I allowed the FBI to suck me back in to catch one of the most notorious terrorists on their hit list. And wouldn't you know it … I ended up caught and chained up by the very asshat I went to find in Iraq. But it's no sweat, I don't break and can crawl through mud and live fire with the best of them and yet, there's this delusional Black Ops muscle head who believes I need him to save me. It's time he faces reality. My name is Brock Carter. I'm a forty-six-year-old widower with my path littered with the conquests of sexy kittens. I must admit that there is one left— a black-haired tauntress with an unusual carnal flavor known yet untasted that has provoked my appetite and inflamed my libido. Anyway, I'm co-owner of a covert Black Ops group called, The Cobras. We're on the trail of the most feared Mafia Boss the U.S. has ever encountered and it's a case that requires all our attention. Now, because of the Red Reign kitties strong arming terrorists, our attention is divided… something we can't afford. Not to mention that seductress I told you about… yeah, the little naiad had to go dune surfing in Iraq and got herself captured. It's time to set her straight and convince her that a pretty kitty should be purring… preferably in my bed. I haven't found the right words yet to beckon her, but when I do, I'll be looking for that lightning left hook she's got. Even so, it's time she faces reality.