By: Suzanne Ferrell

A Romantic Suspense Novel


For my sister Sami.

You are the best sister in the entire world.

You’ve had a ton of responsibilities on your shoulders for years

and yet you still find things that make you laugh.

Your strength, loyalty, love and wit amaze me.

Love you, sis!


The Ferrell team always deserves a big thank you!

To my indispensable critique partner and wonderful friend, Sandy Blair, Thank you for everything you do to help me turn out the best book.

I’d like to thank my cover artist, Lyndsey Lewellen of LLewellen Designs. I love how you take my vague descriptions and turn out such eye-catching, dynamic covers. I literally wrote EXPOSED to fit your design.

My formatter at Libris in CAPS, Mitchell Rhodes. You’ve done such a great job.

And my editor, Tanya Saari. Thanks for helping make my stories the best they can be.


Damn, he hated being cold and damp.

Hunkered down in the half-built building across the street for hours in the rain, he’d been waiting for her to come home. Finally, the light came on in the apartment. He picked up his camera.

Using the long-distance lens, he zoomed in as the young woman entered the living area. She threw her bag on the sofa and crossed out of sight into what he assumed was her bedroom. Two nights ago, she’d approached him about information that implicated her employer in a kick-back scheme. She’d wanted to know how much money she could get for the story, and wanted to remain anonymous.

Silly girl, playing a dangerous game.

He’d photographed her before approaching the table at the pizza joint where she’d set up their meeting. Two clicks of his internet app and he had her name and that of her employer. Washington was a city with secrets, most of which weren’t as hidden as people wished. Especially political identities.

The brunette told him a story about being forced to have an affair with her employer or face unemployment and possible repercussions stretching back to her home state. A sex scandal. Not too unusual in this city.

He’d followed her after the meet. Having worked in hot spots all over the world, where hiding from danger was a minute-by-minute fact of life, following one barely-out-of-law-school girl in the nation’s capital was a piece of cake.

Sardonic laughter bubbled up inside him.

Hell, she hadn’t checked once to see if she had a tail. Talk about naïveté.

That night, she’d met her employer at this apartment. Typical cliché for Washington. Older man, young, nubile girl. At the time, all he’d had with him was his camera phone. Fine for taking selfies, but crap for getting the gritty photos he knew he’d need.

Tonight, he’d come prepared.

The woman crossed past the window towards the door. Dressed in a robe, probably hiding some sexy lingerie beneath. Yep, cliché.

A black SUV had pulled up outside the building. Ah, her sugar daddy had probably arrived.

Adjusting the lens, he pressed the shutter release to capture her welcoming him with open arms.

Suddenly, she flew through the air and landed against the wall. She crumpled in a heap on the hardwood floors.


He kept the camera clicking.

Two men stalked through her apartment, one turning over furniture, the other grasping the dazed woman by her dark hair and hauling her to her feet, just to slam a fist into her face and send her crashing into the wall again, knocking a painting to the floor beside her.

A third man walked into the room. Cool. Collected. In control. He held up a hand as the first thug lifted the woman to her feet again. Blood dripped from her nose and mouth.

The leader said something to her.

Damn, he wished he had some sort of long-distance listening device to hear what the man was saying. He kept taking pictures.

The woman shook her head.

Thug number one slapped her.

Controlled said something else.

He zoomed in on her face.

Tears mixed with the blood. Again she shook her head.

Controlled pointed a gun at her. It had a silencer on the end.

Her body jumped in thug one’s hands.

Fuck! They killed her!

He scrambled back behind a cement column, afraid they’d somehow be able to see him through the dark, even nearly half a football field away. Once his heartrate returned to normal, he focused through the camera lens again, zooming out to keep the whole room in the frame.

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