The Trap and Trace blog tour

Trap and Trace
Megan Carney
Publication date: July 18th 2017
Genres: Adult, Adventure, Thriller

A sabotaged CIA operation makes Navy Trent a captive. But surviving the kidnapping is just the beginning of her ordeal. The CIA will kill her if she doesn’t stay quiet. The saboteurs will kill her if she does. Navy is forced into a high-tech, high-stakes game of cat-and-mouse where only her wits – and a little bit of luck – can keep her alive.

Goodreads / Amazon

Author Bio:
Megan Carney is an author, geek and amateur photographer living in the Twin Cities. She has ten years of experience in the field of computer security. Her previous short story publications include: ‘Flighty Youth’ in the Raritan, ‘Modern Mayhem’ in the Wayfarer, ‘Swing By Close’ in the Wayfarer, ‘Directions’ in the Bell Tower. ‘Swing By Close’ and ‘Directions’ both won first prize in the fiction sections of that issue. The Christian Science Monitor dubbed her self-published photography book, ‘Signs of My Cities’ as having “youthful zest.”
Her non-literary creations include: a robot to clean the bathroom tub, Zim and Gir costumes, No-Dig tomato stakes, StickFriend the bear bag hanger, and a burning coal costume so she could be Katniss for a night.

Excerpt:

Jackson knew this might be his only chance to talk with Navy. She was leaning on the wall next to the bar and sipping something golden and bubbly from a long-stemmed glass. A tilt of her head betrayed her surprise when she saw him.

He should have been watching the whole room, looking to see if other people had been sent to watch her. But he couldn’t focus on anything but her unnatural calm. In the microseconds where her composure slipped, he saw she was terrified—and completely under control.

He didn’t remember walking toward her, but he must have because now she was in front of him. He felt her gaze move from his scuffed black shoes, the freshly pressed suit, the straight lines of the pleated white tuxedo shirt. He was suddenly jealous of the other guests at the ball who were simply dancing, simply drinking, simply attending a fancy occasion.

“Care to dance?” he asked.

“With whom am I dancing?” She was smiling slightly.

“Jim Marshal, defense contractor.”

She nodded slowly and took the hand he offered her. “What firm do you work for?” They walked to the center of the floor, now crowded with couples.

“Frankly, I don’t know anymore.” He fit his hand to the small of her back. “The name keeps changing.”

Jackson scanned the room as they moved across the floor, trying to pick out enemies and friends.

“Who were you talking to?” she asked softly, inches from his ear.

“Curt Holiander.” He held her tighter. Curt would be taking her to the meeting with the president. “Be careful with him. Is your plan working out?”

“Did they lose me in Cleveland?” she asked, just as quietly. She smiled politely at a diplomat with a shock of white hair who looked her up and down.

“Up until the hotel.”

“Then, yes.” He lifted her arm and she twirled around the tip of his finger, her skirt brushing the ankles of other men’s tuxedos. “What are we supposed to be tonight?”

“Enemies,” he said. The word felt harsh in his mouth, too large and thorny to swallow. “My orders are to make you nervous.”

“You didn’t know?”

He shook his head, lost.

“You’ve always made me nervous.”

The rest of the world fell away. He tried to act as if his hand didn’t fit perfectly against the silky curve of her dress, that his thumb didn’t rest easily in the hollow between her fingers and her palm, that their hips weren’t swaying in time.

“In your plan,” he said, “what happens now?”

“You let me go.”

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