I’m so excited to announce that the short sequel to Dead Running, Dying to Run, is available. Click here to purchase the ebook for $1.29. Click here to buy a print copy for $5.99.
Cassidy Christensen wants to run.
Captured by the traffickers who killed her mother, Cassidy’s only hope is Dr. Tattoo, a man she loves but nobody trusts. When she finally gets a chance to run, someone else she cares about is taken. Running might be her only chance at survival, but Cassidy won’t allow another family member to be killed in her place.
This must-read sequel to Dead Running will have you laughing, biting your nails, and hoping for more.
“Cami does a great job of grabbing the reader right from the get-go with a siege on the main character's home. Throw in an abduction, cross country run, hostage situation, and some explosives and you'll get a good idea of how this piece starts with action and doesn't stop until the very end.”
E.M. Tippetts, author, Castles on the Sand
”Dying to Run is a fast read with plenty of action and humor sprinkled throughout. And what a perfect title! Whether you like to run or not, you'll enjoy this one!”
Lo Johnston, reviewer
The door opened and closed. My stomach plummeted, but I still tried to act tough, “Try and touch me again, loser, I’ll bite off something you might want to keep.”
He didn’t say anything. I whirled around, ready for the battle.
Jesse stood there, eyes focused on my face instead of my brassiere; that was a first for me today. The tattoos on his forearms distorted as his muscles clenched. He was ready to hurt someone. “Who . . . touched . . . you?” he whispered.
“Oh, Jesse!” I launched myself at him. He opened his arms and I didn’t hesitate to wrap myself around him. He smelled like himself, musk and sunshine. I inhaled deeply, loving the pressure of his muscular form, this incredible sense that I was safe and right where I should be.
“Who?” he asked again.
“Later,” I murmured, aligning my lips with his.
He sighed, softly brushing his lips over mine. I tingled from his touch, but needed more. Jesse moaned against my mouth, pulling me closer as the kiss intensified. I clung to him, not willing to ever be separated. Several minutes of happiness I didn’t know I’d ever experience again passed before he released my lips and stroked a hand down the side of my face. I flinched. Jesse pulled back to examine the red marks on my cheek, his sculpted face taut with anger. “No more stalling. Who hurt you and where is your shirt?”
“It was a good stall, right?”