Deep in the jungle, who can you trust? Action. Adventure. Romance. On sale for $0.99!
Mitch Hasslet, a war photojournalist relegated to a desk job, is the sole witness to a heist of Mayan artifacts. Recruited by the enigmatic director of the Museum of Art and Antiquities, Mitch is sent to Guatemala, the last location the shipment was tracked to. Acting as the museum staff photographer, Mitch joins a group of archaeologists. His goal is to locate the artifacts as swiftly as possible so that he can collect his compensation and get the hell out of the jungle.
Alexandra Langley is about to run out of funds. She has yet to discover the lost Mayan civilization she knows lurks in the rainforest. To achieve her grant, she will accept the museum's latest nuisance, Mitch Hasslet, and any other obstacle that is sent her way.
Unsuccessful and desperate, Alex has decided to move the group to a portion of the jungle referred to as, “No Man’s Land”−a sector where archaeological teams have ventured but never returned.
As Mitch and Alex discover romance, will their bond protect them in a jungle filled with deceit?
Excerpt
Port Newark, NJ – April 22nd
From a hundred yards away, Mitch Hasslet lifted his lens to the aft of the ship and narrowed the viewfinder on the cracked white letters.
Dorian Gray.
Christ, he hoped there was a portrait stored somewhere that flattered this old bucket of bolts. Perhaps in its heyday, the freighter shined with fresh black paint and gleaming brass fixtures−but now it looked like a ghost ship ready to embark on a voyage to a prehistoric island.
On deck, crewmen were busy preparing for their valuable cargo as Mitch swung his camera in the direction of two police cars entering the barricade. In their wake, a trio of armored trucks stamped with the Museum of Historical Art and Antiquities insignia were flanked by two additional patrol units. The entire convoy pulled up idle at the foot of a ramp that led into the bowels of the Dorian Gray.
Mitch’s curiosity flared at the sight of wooden crates towed on mobile skids by the armed security representatives of the HAA Museum. Some of the fanfare in the papers came to mind.
Rare Mayan artifacts. Brutal pieces of art that stirred up controversy and even warranted a disclaimer at the entrance of the museum.
Not for the faint of heart.
Systematically, the shutter clicked as Mitch captured images of the wooden crates hauled like behemoth creatures into a cage.
When four Apache helicopters descended on the pier, Mitch’s camera continued to snap. As if a beehive had split open, a battalion of camouflaged uniforms erupted from the choppers and flooded the dock, encircling the comparatively small police force. Men he had presumed were part of the ship’s crew now drew weapons of their own and joined in the invasion as the explosive percussion of AK-47’s pierced the brackish air.
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