Nothing in her life has been stable since Tessâs beloved fiancĂ© Kyle died in a tragic accident. Sheâs spent the past year hell-bent on outrunning her grief, jetting between high-stakes meetings and the rock clubs where she can disappear. Avoiding her pain was workingâalmostâuntil she and her colleagues are taken hostage by a violent Eastern European terrorist group.
With no means to escape her captors, Tess and fellow captive Mark must rely on one another to survive. Together, theyâll risk their lives and endure a brutal journey toward freedom as they forge a bond that neither can forget.
The mysteries of the past refuse to lay dormant for long as Tess is thrust into the center of another international cybercrime and uncovers the shocking truth about Kyleâs death. This time, sheâll need Markâs help to avenge her losses as she races across the globe to save her companyâŠand their lives.
Nothing in her life has been stable since Tessâs beloved fiancĂ© Kyle died in a tragic accident. Sheâs spent the past year hell-bent on outrunning her grief, jetting between high-stakes meetings and the rock clubs where she can disappear. Avoiding her pain was workingâalmostâuntil she and her colleagues are taken hostage by a violent Eastern European terrorist group.
With no means to escape her captors, Tess and fellow captive Mark must rely on one another to survive. Together, theyâll risk their lives and endure a brutal journey toward freedom as they forge a bond that neither can forget.
The mysteries of the past refuse to lay dormant for long as Tess is thrust into the center of another international cybercrime and uncovers the shocking truth about Kyleâs death. This time, sheâll need Markâs help to avenge her losses as she races across the globe to save her companyâŠand their lives.
In a dodgy club in North London, Tess Bennett was hiding in plain sight.
The punk rock beat ricocheted roughshod through every cell in her body, and her heart rate accelerated to match its driving tempo. Drums pounded and electric guitars wailed in riffs so angry she could taste rebellion in her parched mouth. A kaleidoscope of purple-hued beams swirled around the club stage like warring light sabers. The mosh pit throbbed in time with the beat, and the crowd melded into a sweaty, pulsing amoeba which seeped into the bar area.
Noise crackled through her brain in quarter-time rhythm, crowding out everything else. Spilled beer coated the floor, adding a fresh, sticky layer of grime to ancient wood. The dance floor shook like an anarchist uprising, thundering vocals approaching primal screams. She needed this to forget.
As senior vice president of Kingsley Tech, she relished her anonymity here, far from the techies, investors, and sensibly dressed Londoners who populated the cybersecurity world. Sheâd spent the last year running from grief, circling the globe until her passport overflowed with stamps: Tokyo, Bengaluru, Seattle, Berlin. No matterâthe loss always caught her. This club was the one place loud enough to block out her grief and shake her back to life.
Tomorrow marked one year. Somehow, sheâd survived a full journey around the sun without her fiancĂ©, Kyle. A car accident. Instant. Upon impact, the police had said, like those facts would console her. They didnât. Around her, the club-goers rocked and swayed like a wheat field bending in a windstorm. With their feet planted on the ground, they waved their arms back and forth. The crush of revelers failed to cure her loneliness.
Someone tossed a pitcher of water over the dance floor, splashing dancers alongside the stage. Frenzied howls erupted. Sweat dripped down her cheeks, and she pumped her hands in the air, pulsating with the crowd while the song bulldozed to a deafening climax. Obliterate my every thought. Make this pain stop.
Before the song ended in a crash of drums, Tess snaked her way to the bar. She squeezed into a small opening with her elbows to stake her spot in the queue. The barkeepâs Mohawk spikes formed a line of neon-green swords, which were outnumbered by the metal piercings adorning his face. His tattooed arms strained his tight gray T-shirt, emblazoned Torque.
The barkeep ogled her Goth outfit. Tonight, she sported tight leather jeans with a lace-up corset layered over a sheer mesh top. A metal-studded dog collar and heavy rock-star makeup completed her ensemble. Except for her perfect pink nails, an aura of angst surrounded her. Here, she allowed herself to surrender to the darkness she carried every day, even wallow in it, without apology.
âDouble vodka, right, bird?â he asked in a thick Cockney accent.
The subwoofer thumped so loud it drowned out her own heartbeat. âMake it strong.â
âWhatâs your name, American Goth chick?â
âJinx.â Happy to abandon her corporate persona for the night, she embraced the freedom of nothing left to loseâno past, no future, just the present. She surveyed the swarming mosh pit while he poured her cocktail. âRight. Jinx. Youâve been here before.â His metal-laden eyebrows rose at her lie. After he slid her drink across the bar, he leaned toward her. âI know a guy whoâs got snow, ecstasy, anything you want. Interested?
She drained her glass in one sip and, judging the vodkaâs curative powers lacking, slammed the glass onto the counter. A dizzying array of bad choices enticed her toward recklessness. No one at work would ever find out. In the morning, she would depart for Paris to spend the weekend with her best friend, Sophie.
âIf you want, talk to Frankie, the bloke in the red leather jacket, by the door. Discreet.â The barkeep polished a pint glass with a white, terry cloth towel.
She glanced over at the pock-faced man with a shaved head and wondered how many people heâd led straight to addiction, like innocent sheep to slaughter. While the devastation of losing Kyle eroded her sanity at times, she wanted to survive. Perhaps someday the grief would lift, although tonight she couldnât imagine a future free from the weight of loss. âNo. Just make it a double, please.
âThis oneâs on me.â The bartender poured her third vodka tonic and winked. âYou fancy partying, bird? Iâm off at two.â
He couldnât be further from her type, and the odds sheâd go home with a stranger ranged somewhere around one in three trillion. Still needing to numb her grief, she accepted the drink and downed it. Her phone vibrated against her hip, interrupting her train of thought. The familiar pulsing sequence meant one thing: work. âGive me a minute.â
Digging into her leather pants pocket, she withdrew her slim satellite phone, grateful for the convenient interruption. The screen flashed the time, almost two in the morning, before displaying David Kingsleyâs text message.
âStuck in Berlin. Need u to lead Timberline security summit for me. Tilly booked u next BA flight to YVR. Potential $20-30 million in venture capital if u convince Bouchard to go with us for medical acquisition. Sorry to ruin your Paris weekend.â
Without hesitation, she typed rapid-fire on her screen.
âOn my way.â
The bartender had already placed another drink on the counter.
âWater, please.â She pushed the fourth cocktail away. Jarred back to reality, she stretched taller in her combat boots, determined to claw back some equilibrium. The barkeep handed her a huge glass of water, and she gulped it, resolving to leave before temptation and bad judgment took over.
Another text alert appeared.
âEastern European security officials report a dramatic surge in attempted network attacks this week. Threat level elevated to orange.â
Work would be slammed for a week, and this Canadian summit alone would burn three days. While sheâd enjoy a Paris weekend with Sophie more, any distraction helped blunt the loss she couldnât bear: Kyle was dead.
âWhat do you say, Jinx?â The barkeepâs neon-green Mohawk glowed in the dim light.
His words barely registered. Instead, she saw the rain-slicked road east of London, brakes screeching. Wooden guardrails breaking. Kyleâs European sedan plunging over the high cliff, crashing into the water below. Icy water, then nothing. A sudden chill crept up her spine. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear before meeting his overt stare. âSorry, Iâve got a flight to catch.â
The Unexpected Hostage is a suspenseful thriller novel detailing tech executive Tess Bennett as the protagonist. Tess's character is consistently dauntless and tenacious even though the story starts by exposing her in deep grief grounded in losing her fiancé only a few weeks before their wedding. It had been one year since it happened, and Tess still drowned herself in alcohol to numb the feelings. A high conflict ensues in the chapters that precede when Tess, as vice president, is sent to represent her boss, David Kingsley, the owner and President of Kingsley Tech, at a tech summit in Canada. Terrorists invade the event, taking Tess and Mark, a handsome doctor, hostage. Their shock and confusion at the unexpected incident turn into a desperate attempt to escape as the illicit intent of their captors comes to light. Kinsley Tech and the hundreds of banks they protect internationally are at risk of a breach by these terrorists who insist that Tess reveals important source codes to them. The plot thickens, drawing the pair into a problematic mess of events involving the dark web, organized cybercrime, a cyber war, and shocking revelations that push the plot forward, all coming together in a delectable narration that keeps the reader engaged. Tess and Mark find themselves on a treacherous journey to protect their lives and that of everyone around them. In the midst of it, a romance brews, offering closure from the past and the key to a fresh start for our protagonist.
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The thrill in this book starts at a full tilt, immediately capturing the readers' attention. It launches into such a climax it makes you, the reader, wonder what the author could cook up next. Providentially, McKenzie keeps the tempo running down to the last chapters. The story is fast-paced and action-packed, but while this is the case, the plot isn't rushed, and the characters are fully developed. I relished the slower bits of the story that just exposed the characters and pulled me deeper into the plot. Readers are sufficiently engaged with mini cliffhangers that up the thrill and maintain adequate suspense throughout the story.
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The writing is vivid, and you're sure to feel every minute of the heart-thumping adventures the characters take on. This would've been a great read, even without the romance. I was glad that it did not completely overshadow the entire story. The romance is a slow-burn type and was beautiful to read. As a slight, I found the cyber themes to be a bit cliché and some of the narrations unrealistic. However, this book passes the check against the weightier elements that truly make a good book. The Unexpected Hostage gets a 4 out of 5 stars for me. With a unique mix of suspense, romance, and cyberterrorism, McKenzie has delivered a brilliant debut, and I can see Tess and Mark returning for future exciting adventures.
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