Where novice Sister Margaret Mary
goes, trouble follows. When she barges into a drug deal the local Mexican drug
lord captures her. To escape she must depend on undercover DEA agent Jed Bond. Jed’s
attitude toward her is exasperating, but when she finds herself inexplicable
attracted to him he becomes more dangerous than the men who have captured them,
because he is making her doubt her decision to take her final vows. Escape back
to the nunnery is imperative, but life at the convent, if she can still take
her final vows, will never be the same.
Nuns shouldn’t look, talk, act, or
kiss like Sister Margaret Mary O’Connor—at least that’s what Jed Bond thinks.
She hampers his escape plans with her compulsiveness and compassion and in the
process makes Jed question his own beliefs. After years of walling up his
emotions in an attempt to become the best agent possible, Sister Margaret is
crumbling Jed’s defenses and opening his heart. To lure her away from the
church would be unforgivable—to lose her unbearable.
Excerpt from The Nun and the Narc
Margaret inched forward, hoping to
hear what they were saying. A mariachi band nearby blared out a tune, the
polka-like melody destroying any hope of eavesdropping. The shriek of off-key
brass sent chills up her spine. She covered her ears and moved closer to Rafael
and the stranger.
After a couple of minutes of
conversation, the man removed an envelope from his jacket and pulled out a
handful of bills. He folded them in half and then slipped them into Rafael’s
extended hand. With a furtive glance around, Rafael moved closer to the man,
blocking Margaret’s direct view, and handed something to the stranger.
A wave of apprehension swept over
Margaret. The chapulines she’d snacked on earlier that morning
threatened to see the light of day.
A drug deal! Of all the
things Rafael could do, this was the worst.
Esperanza had fought so hard to
keep her son away from bad influences. Now he appeared to be involved in the
very thing she’d hated most. Margaret imagined Esperanza banging on the gates
of purgatory, trying to get out and rescue her son.
She hesitated for a moment, hearing
Mother Superior’s admonishment. Stay out of trouble while you are in Mexico,
Sister.
Silencing the nagging voice in her
head, Margaret charged forward, protective instincts in full swing.
Stopping Rafael and talking to
him about the dangers of drugs surely wouldn’t qualify as trouble.
Bluntness, maybe, but not trouble. It was more like saving. Yes, that’s it. I’m
saving him.
Margaret grabbed Rafael by the
shirt. “I’ve been searching for you, young man.” She faced the stranger, giving
him her best withering stare. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
The man stuffed the plastic bag
into his jacket pocket. “Who is this?”
“Some crazy gringa.” Rafael
shrugged, hard, trying to escape her grasp.
The plastic bag contained something
white. Heroin? Cocaine? Margaret tightened her hold and drew Rafael
closer. She would save him whether he wanted to be saved or not.
“Get out of here,” Rafael snarled.
“What would your mother say if she
saw this?”
Rafael’s expression darkened.
“Leave my mother out of this!” He wrenched out of Margaret’s grip and spun
around to face her. His expression morphed from anger to fear. “¡Madre de
Dios!”
The man’s head jerked around. “Get
down!” he shouted.
Rafael took off running down the
street as the top row of pottery in the stand exploded like popcorn.
Margaret jumped at the loud noise
and whirled around searching for the source. The man removed a gun from his
jacket, swung around, and scanned the area.
Margaret’s knees buckled at the
sight of the handgun. Her body tensed, her gaze frozen on his weapon. He fired
off a couple of shots. Heart thumping like a jackhammer, she ran for cover
behind the open car door. The window glass shattered as bullets whizzed over
her head. She scrambled into the car and crouched on the floorboard. Another
row of pottery shattered, sending fragments into the car like tiny projectile
rockets. Sending up a quick prayer, she covered her head.
Slamming the door shut as he
passed, the man leapt over the trunk. He jerked open the driver’s door then
jumped behind the wheel. Jamming the car into gear, he roared out into the
market street. Shoppers and vendors screamed, leaping out of the car’s path.
Margaret scrambled into the
passenger seat. “Stop this car immediately!”
“Keep down,” he ordered, “unless
you want to get shot.”
The rear window glass erupted into
the car’s interior, punctuating his words. The man fired at the attackers
through the shattered back window.
“Shot?” Her voice rose an octave. “Oh,
dear Lord in Heaven, what have I gotten into?”
“Trouble, Lady.” He fired off
another round. “Big trouble.”
Margaret slid deeper into the front
passenger seat, grabbing the door handle as the car careened around a corner.
I’m going to die. In a car crash.
With a strange man. Heart pumping madly, she let go of the door handle just
long enough to cross herself then grabbed it again as the car swerved. A guardian
angel would be good here, Lord. And make it Dale Earnhardt! They swerved
around another corner and she held on for dear life.
Oh, Mother Superior, maybe
you’re right. Maybe I’m not good nun material after all. Who else in the
convent could get themselves into a mess like this?
“Are you a drug dealer?” she asked
as they whizzed by a stand of woven tapestries.
The car swerved to the right,
barely missing a burro. “That’s a need to know answer.”
Margaret braced herself against the
seat when they careened past the animal. “Under the circumstances, I need to
know.”
The man didn’t reply.
Margaret felt her temper rising.
“Who are those guys and why are they after you?”
“After us,” he corrected.
Us? Panic scrabbled at her
insides. Will people think I’m part of his illegal plan? Mother
Superior will kick me out of the convent for sure.
“I haven’t done anything,” she
protested.
The man ducked as a bullet
shattered the left rear window. Margaret let go of the door handle and covered
her head.
“Lady, you’re guilty by
association.”
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