{"product_id":"t-flac-psi-edge-trilogyisbn-9780345485205","title":"T-FLAC: PSI Edge Trilogy","description":"Even the deepest peril couldn’t keep him away from her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs an anti-terrorism operative in T-FLAC’s classified paranormal unit, the intrepid, ruggedly handsome Gabriel Edge protects the world from the forces of evil. So when an ingenious and extremely volatile invention is stolen from a covert lab in Arizona, Gabriel zeroes in on the brilliant young scientist who helped to create the device. From Gabriel’s first contact, Eden Cahill leaves an indelible impression.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUsing a mysterious telepathic power as ancient as his Scottish heritage, as well as his seductive physical charms, Gabriel must infiltrate Eden’s mind to uncover the secrets she so desperately protects. But Gabriel is in a bind–for the only way to penetrate Eden’s memories is through one shared intimate encounter that will trigger revelations, shatter lives, and just might save humanity–all at a terribly steep price.“Cherry Adair delivers thrills and sizzle.”\u003cbr\u003e–Jayne Ann Krentz\u003ci\u003eUSA Today \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author \u003cb\u003eCherry Adair\u003c\/b\u003e has generated numerous awards for her innovative action-adventure novels, which include \u003ci\u003eOn Thin Ice, Out of Sight, In Too Deep, Hide and Seek, \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eKiss and Tell\u003c\/i\u003e. A favorite of reviewers and fans alike, she lives in the Pacific Northwest.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Edridge Castle  \u003cbr\u003eMontana  \u003cbr\u003eWednesday 0600\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “I don’t give a damn if it’s a matter of national security or not,”  Gabriel Edge savagely told the man he held at sword point. “I am not  having sex with that woman.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The two men could have been sword fighting in medieval Scotland instead of  twenty-first-century Montana. But both the castle and the heavy claymores  the two   T-FLAC operatives so expertly wielded were the real deal.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    For several minutes the only sounds in the Great Hall were their  breathing, the clash of ancient steel and the soft sibilant shush of bare  feet on stone. Swordplay was a well-choreographed dance, and they knew how  to keep it interesting.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Their blades slid against each other ritually as the men circled each  other, feinting, testing for weakness, wait-ing for a split-second  opening. Slightly better conditioned for a sport that required both  strength and dexterity, Gabriel intentionally moved off balance to fool  his opponent. Then, keeping his swift curse mental instead of verbal,  sidestepped Sebastian Tremayne’s lightning-fast return thrust.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Pleased with himself, Sebastian shot him a triumphant glance. “Your  country nee—”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Same tune.” From a high guard Gabriel made a strong downward cut, the  blade of his broadsword flashing silver in the early morning sunlight  streaming through the high arched windows. He moved with a feline grace  and speed that had Sebastian backing up. Fast.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The first time Gabriel had set eyes on Dr. Eden Cahill he’d felt this same  cold clench in his gut. It was getting worse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “I’ll find another way,” he assured his friend grimly. And he would. As  soon as he damn well came up with something that would work just as  quickly, and just as well, as having sex with her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Sebastian almost took off Gabriel’s hand because he was so distracted.  He’d taught his friend well. “Good one.” He brought his attention back to  the task at hand. Cutting back on the inhale, he halted his own strike an  inch from his friend’s heart. Again. “You’re dead,” he said with  satisfaction.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    They straightened and parted, each pausing to wipe the sweat from their  eyes with their forearms. They were in hour two of practicing cuts and  strikes. They’d stop soon. But not yet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Ready?” Gabriel asked after a few moments’ rest, replacing both hands on  the leather hilt of his sword.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Yeah.” Tremayne stepped back, sword raised.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Agile and fast on his feet, Gabriel circled. The longer they practiced,  the heavier the claymore seemed to become. That ten pounds felt more like  fifty after wielding it for an hour. A good workout. Both for his body and  his mind.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Been at it longer than you,” he pointed out, reading the familiar  I’m-going-to-beat-the-shit-out-of-you-this-time glimmer in his friend’s  eyes. They watched each other like hawks as they slowly circled one  another.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Waiting for an opportunity. Waiting for an opening.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    From a hanging guard, Sebastian brought down a strong downward diagonal  thrust. “Faster on my feet than you.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Knuckles white, Gabriel blocked. “You’ll have to be.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Tremayne was a little out of breath, Gabriel noticed with satisfaction.  They were evenly matched, he was just better at hiding his uneven  breathing than his friend was.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Buttery light streamed through the leaded glass windows embedded in the  thirteen-foot-deep walls. The Great Hall was constructed of rough-hewn  stone the color of a good wine cork, and hung with enormous, priceless,  centuries-old tapestries, coats of armor, ancient weaponry, and other  objets d’art.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    One of Gabriel’s distant ancestors had built the castle in the Scottish  Highlands for his young bride, Janet, in the first part of the fourteenth  century. Hadn’t worked out too well for him, but Gabriel wanted to live in  the castle that had housed seven hundred years of the Edridge family. They  might no longer use the old Scottish name, but the castle would always be  home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    A man with his abilities could always get what he wanted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    As a boy he’d wanted the castle, and he’d gotten it. Using his wizard  skills, he’d teleported his ancestral home stone by bloody stone until it  stood, stark and proud, hundreds of miles from civilization. Somewhere  inside that foolish boy had lived the naive hope that, with the ancestral  home in Montana, his father would venture from his native Scotland to be  with his family more often.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Magnus, unable to resist the lure of his Lifemate, had wanted Cait badly  enough to ignore the Curse. Thinking he could change it, he married her.  The first year had apparently been idyllic. Then things had turned to shit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Terrified that she would die due to his close prox-  imity, Magnus had spent the next twenty years in exile from his beloved  wife and their three sons. Once a year he’d visit, but a series of near  fatal accidents, or Cait’s failing health, would always compel him to  leave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Their mother had been in ill health all their lives. She’d wasted away,  pining for the husband who had married her and then lived to regret it.  Their parents’ frustration and unhappiness had been a stark lesson for  Magnus’s three sons.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Gabriel and his brothers were certain their parents had died of broken  hearts. In five hundred years, no Edge had ever broken Nairne’s Curse.  None ever would.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Okay. He got it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He could marry someone he didn’t love, but could never love the woman he  married. Hell, he could never love. Period.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    No Lifemate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    No three sons on three sons.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    No such fucking thing as happily ever after.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Screw it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He had his work with T-FLAC. The counterterrorist organization was his  life. His passion. It was enough.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Between missions he relished the isolation, the ancient history, and the  drafty halls of Edridge Castle. In a world filled with death and betrayal,  the connection to his past kept him centered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    In his daily life as a T-FLAC operative in the psi or paranormal branch,  he used the most sophisticated high-tech military hardware coupled with  ancient magic. When he was in his ancestral home he used the weapons  hanging on the walls. Weapons his family had collected and used for  centuries.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    His weapon of choice for today’s exercise was the claymore.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Weighing close to ten pounds, and with an overall length of more than four  and a half feet, the claymore was a formidable weapon. Despite its  antiquity, the lethal sword could deliver great sweeping slashes or  powerful thrusts. Just what he was in the mood for this morning. He’d  slept like shit last night, thinking about the good doctor. Or  rather—trying not to think about her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Narrow-eyed, Gabriel choked up on the leather-  covered hilt with both hands as he anticipated his   opponent’s next move.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “If I could read minds,” Sebastian said, clearly flagging, “I’d sleep with  her.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “I’m sure you would.” He used Sebastian’s distracted focus to springboard  his riposte off his blade. And the game was back on. “But you can’t,” he  told his friend, who was T-FLAC but not part of the special “psychic  phenomena” branch. The psi division was considered, by some, to be the  elite group of the counterterrorist   organization. By others it was the whoo-hoo division that they didn’t  understand. None were permitted to acknowledge the group outside the  organization.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    While there were still a few hundred known wizards in the world, the  general population—normal people—were totally unaware that they even  existed. And Gabriel and his brothers wouldn’t even be wizards if not for  that long-ago Curse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Jesus. Talk about a woman scorned. The witch Nairne had laid one on his  cheating great, great, how ever many greats, grandfather, Magnus Edridge,  several hundred years ago.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The Edge family had changed their name, and had paid for the slight ever  since.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Thank God he and his brothers had decided that the Curse, like the  proverbial buck, stopped with them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Not that any of them believed there was such a thing as a “Lifemate.” But  they weren’t taking any chances. It wasn’t difficult to keep women at  arm’s length, not in their business. The hours were long, their  whereabouts frequently top secret.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The three of them had long ago agreed that they’d keep their relationships  with the opposite sex casual. And if one of them should veer off the  straight and narrow, the other two would pull him back from the abyss.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    In thirty-four years, Gabriel had never met a woman who tempted him to  change the “casual” rule, not even a little.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Until he’d laid eyes on the gorgeous doctor Eden Cahill.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He’d been near her that once. It had been enough. He’d taken one look.  One. And been consumed by an unspeakable lust. It had been instantaneous,  overwhelming, and dangerous as hell. He’d wanted to breathe her breath, to  absorb her distinctive scent, to learn her textures. He’d hungered to  taste her soft mouth, and run his hands over her silken skin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    For the last three days he’d been able to think of little else.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He blocked Sebastian’s parry, edge on edge, with the incrosada, the  crossing of the blades, bringing both weapons to a bone-jarring,  shuddering stop. The vibration shimmied up his arm. The very air  reverberated with the sharp scraping sound of steel on steel echoing off  the ancient stone walls.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Their eyes met. Held. Not sleeping with her, he telegraphed as he gave a  sharp twist of his wrist to indicate that his opponent should step back.  Bloodlust raced through Gabriel’s body.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Don’t think about her, he told himself, feeling feral and slightly out of  control at the memory of Dr. Cahill’s glossy dark curls and her big brown  eyes—","brand":"Ballantine Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302988271845,"sku":"NP9780345485205","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345485205.jpg?v=1730752657","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/t-flac-psi-edge-trilogyisbn-9780345485205","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}