Dear Reader,

      It’s time to turn up the heat! I’m really looking forward to sharing my three “Heat” titles with you (White Heat, Body Heat and Killer Heat). Although each book stands alone, they all revolve around a private security company called Department 6 and the retired special forces personnel, private investigators and police officers who make their living working as “hired guns.” These men and women face some diverse and unusual circumstances—and some very frightening challenges.

      Another common thread is that all three books are set in Arizona, a place I find fascinating. While growing up, I lived in Chandler for eight years, back when it was still a farming community and not the sprawling metropolis it has since become. I miss those days, especially the long days of summer, which is probably why I’ve chosen to set each of these titles in a small town during the hot months. If you’ve never experienced an Arizona summer or one of the infamous monsoons, you’re really missing something….

      Arizona has more than its share of ghost towns. Paradise, the setting of this book, is one of them. I took a little (or a lot) of artistic liberty when I settled my fictional cult in Paradise, but it’s a unique place that really exists. With such a perfect name, I couldn’t resist.

      I love to hear from my readers. Please feel free to contact me via www.brendanovak.com. There you can also enter my monthly draws (I give away all kinds of things), learn more about my annual online auction for diabetes research (we’ve raised over $1 million so far!), download a free 3D screensaver, get the latest info on my annual FAN convention (which I do with #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan), or check out any new books on the horizon (you can even read a sample). If you don’t have a computer, you can write to me at P.O. Box 3781, Citrus Heights, CA 95611.

      Here’s wishing you many hours of reading pleasure!

      Brenda Novak

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Epilogue

      1

      Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.

      —King James Bible, Matthew 7:15

      “This guy is dangerous?” Rachel Jessop studied the glossy black-and-white photograph her manager slid across the table.

      Nate Ferrentino’s leather chair squeaked as he leaned back and locked his hands behind his head. “He doesn’t look dangerous to you?” One eyebrow arched, telling her he found her reaction amusing, but she couldn’t begin to guess why, and she’d worked with him long enough to know he wouldn’t explain even if she asked. With short dark hair and green, gold-flecked eyes, he had the face of a sensitive man who’d become cynical and the body of a soldier. Nate was a tempting physical specimen. But he wasn’t one to reveal much about his thoughts.

      Rachel wished that was all she knew about her boss. When she’d first started working at Department 6 eight months ago, she’d been so convinced she’d met the one man she could love with all her heart, she’d made a humiliating miscalculation. The embarrassment of that incident still burned so intensely she could barely look at him.

      Ignoring the way his T-shirt stretched over his clearly defined pecs, she kept her focus on Ethan Wycliff, the man in the picture. Wiry and with the appearance of some height, Ethan had polish to spare—high cheekbones, black hair, black eyes and a beguiling smile. “He’s too pretty to seem dangerous. He could be on billboards, modeling suits for Armani. What’s he done?”

      Except for possibly height, Nate was Ethan’s opposite. Although he wasn’t overweight by any stretch of the imagination, slender wasn’t an adjective that came to mind. Pretty and polished didn’t fit, either. He was handsome, but not in the classic sense of movie stars and models. His forehead was a bit too wide, his jaw too square. And he had too many scars—both from when he was a navy SEAL and from working for Department 6 after he’d left the military.

      “Depends on who you talk to,” he said. “There’s a chance that none of it’s illegal, but the secrecy surrounding him and his group is making some important people nervous.”

      Rachel