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Done Deal

Done Deal

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 434+ 5-Star Reviews

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To rid herself of a $50 million problem, Sei recruited her daughter.

Done Deal is the final book in a heart-pounding series. Grab your copy of the thrilling conclusion to this nail-biting saga!

" This book, the whole series... just amazing." ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ — Reader Review

Series:  Sei Assassin Thriller #8


Sei’s ex, put a bounty on her head, making her the target of assassins worldwide. The only sure way to end this spiteful nonsense is to kill him. But planning a final assault requires the right weapons.

While Sei goes shopping, Mui and the rest of the team are waiting in Zanzibar for her return, unaware of the person lurking in the shadows and watching their every move.

Will Sei be forced to bring a knife to a gunfight? Will Mui’s lowered guard jeopardize the mission ahead? 

Read An Excerpt

Imagine living in a round, thatched hut made of hardened mud. No running water. No electricity. No plumbing. I sat inside one of many in a small village that I had arrived at late that night. This particular one was fifteen feet in diameter and furnished with only a small wooden table surrounded by pillows for seating. Shelves were carved into the walls, but they were bare. A few kerosene lamps kept the place lit. I didn’t get the impression someone lived here. 

Sitting across from me was Azim Majak, an arms trafficker operating in South Sudan. He had assured me that he had top-quality arms for sale. But if I had to gauge those assurances by what I saw in the hut, I’d say he was lying. I ignored the cup of herbal tea that had been placed in front of me. I wasn’t there to socialize.

“Tell me more about the weapons you need,” Majak prompted. He sat with a knee pressed against his chest, the other leg tucked behind it. His cheeks were hollow and his jaw pronounced. I wondered if he had enough to eat.

“As I said, show me your best, and I’ll take what I need. I’m in a hurry, so if we can move this along…”

Majak smiled, revealing large, chunky, yellow-stained teeth. Sitting behind him were two men. Each had an AK-47 lying casually on the ground next to him. It was clear they didn’t see me as a threat—dumb move. Majak hadn’t bothered with introductions, and I didn’t care to know them. My patience had thinned as soon as I entered the hut and saw no weapons. I still didn’t see Majak making any moves to rectify the situation. Which could only mean one thing. He had other plans.

I snatched the ceramic mug off the table and threw it hard, sending it slamming into the bridge of Majak’s nose. The cup broke, and so did his face. I popped to my feet and leaped across the table, somersaulting right over Majak as he cried out in pain. I landed beside his men, disarming one just as he raised his rifle. I fired twice at the other man, dropping him to the ground before putting a large hole in the forehead of the man I’d taken the gun from.

I spun around and pumped three rounds into the chest of a man who had burst into the hut. I then put a bullet into the back of Majak’s head, silencing his wailing. I tucked his handgun into my waistband, scavenged the magazine from the other AK, and headed outside.

On the way to the meeting, I’d noted that Majak had no shortage of armed guards patrolling the small village. I cut down two men running directly at me. Soon a hail of bullets convened on my location, kicking up dirt. I looped around to the rear of the hut for cover and returned fire.

More of Majak’s men appeared and attacked from different directions. I tapped the trigger, making each round count, as I only had one extra magazine. I fired at another man racing toward me, striking him once in the chest before the magazine emptied. I quickly reloaded and finished the withering man with a shot to his head. Another man rushed me from behind with a machete, and I ducked in time to avoid losing my head. I swept him off his feet and kicked him square in the nose with the tip of my steel-toe boots, caving in his face.

More bullets whizzed by me, sending me running. I ran into a hut, ready to shoot anyone there, but it was empty. Bullets chipped the sides of the entrance, sending hardened dirt flying. I grabbed a kerosene lamp off the ground and chucked it at the entrance just as a man entered. The lamp shattered against him and the oil ignited, creating a fireball. I kicked the fully engulfed man in the chest, and he flew back out of the hut.

I followed him out and fired at the other men, who were momentarily stunned by the sight of their roasting comrade flopping on the ground. I dropped three of them right there and continued running, zigzagging around the huts. There was no electricity in the village, so everyone I passed was completely in shadow. I couldn’t be sure if others were living there who didn’t work for Majak. More importantly, I didn’t want to mistakenly shoot my ride out of there.

Where the hell is he?

Majak had requested that I come alone to the meeting. Afterward, I was to meet my ride at the village entrance, with or without my weapons. But as luck would have it, I didn’t see the white Land Cruiser parked where it should have been.

Bullets whistled past my head and I dropped to one knee, firing in the direction they’d come from. More bullets kicked up the dirt around me. I was an easy target out in the open. I darted into the safety of a nearby hut. It was dark and unfurnished, like the others. Part of me wondered if anyone really lived in that village. The sounds of bullets slamming into the hardened mud walls of the hut sounded like beats from a bass drum. Safety in the hut was merely an illusion.

All I could think of was that either the gunfire had scared off my ride or he had to relocate. I hoped it was the latter. I was in a small village in the middle of the African bush, in one of the most dangerous countries on the continent. I wouldn’t be thrilled about being stranded.

The sound of a horn blared, followed by a loud thunk and brief silence. I poked my head out of the hut and saw the Land Cruiser directly in front of the hut. A mangled body lay on the ground a few feet away from the vehicle. A man with salt-and-pepper hair and a chipper smile waved at me from behind the steering wheel.

“Get inside, Sei!”

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