Rules in Defiance

Blackhawk Security, Book #4

A disturbed criminal wants to destroy her life.

After her colleague’s brutal murder, Dr. Waylynn Hargraves’s past makes her a suspect, but Blackhawk Security investigator Elliot Dunham is certain she’s innocent. When Waylynn’s research reveals she faces a danger worse than being framed, Elliot will defy all of the rules he’s set for himself in order to protect Waylynn from the killer who is stalking her.

Rules in Defiance

“Fast-paced, explosive action makes Nichole Severn’s 'Rules In Defiance' an exciting, romantic read!”

- Toni Anderson, New York Times bestselling author

Rules in Defiance

Short Excerpt

An ear-piercing scream had Elliot Dunham reaching for the Glock stashed under his pillow. He threw back the sheets and pumped his legs hard, not bothering to check the time as the apartment blurred in his vision. That scream hadn’t come from his apartment, but close. Air rushed from his lungs as adrenaline burned through his veins. There was only one name that came to mind. “Waylynn.”
  Ripping open his front door, he made the sharp turn to his left in the darkness and faced his next-door neighbor’s front door. No hesitation. He aimed the heel of his foot toward the lock and kicked with everything he had. Pain shot up his leg, but the door frame splintered, thick wood slamming back against the wall. Dust flew into his beard and face as he raised the gun and moved in. One breath. Two. Nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat behind his ears registered from the shadows. He scanned the scene, his senses adjusting slowly.
  He’d gone into plenty of situations like this before, but this wasn’t just another one of his clients. This was Waylynn. She mattered. He’d trained out of Blackhawk Security, offered his clients personal protection, home security and investigative services, as well as tactical training, wilderness survival and self-defense. But none of that would do Elliot a damn bit of good now. He was running off instinct. Because when it came to that woman, he couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
  Debris cut into his bare feet as he moved deeper into the dark apartment. A broken picture frame—Waylynn’s doctorate degree from Texas A&M University—crunched beneath his weight. Torn couch cushions, a broken vase, a purse that’d been dumped over the floor. Signs of an obvious struggle littered the living room, but it was the trail of dark liquid leading to the back bedroom that homed his attention to the soft sobs echoing down the hallway. Blood. “Waylynn? It’s Elliot. Are you dead?”
  “Don’t come in here!” That voice. Her voice.
  “I take it that’s a no.”