Hunting Games: She is designed to fight... She is geared to run... and fast....

SHE FORGETS HER LIFE AS AN ASSASSIN, BUT SHE NEVER FORGETS HOW TO RUN
RUN, HIDE, HUNT... AND TRY TO SURVIVE

Clarice leads a mundane and predictable life – which is what she exactly wants. But the one day she tried something different, her luck run out. She woke up under the water in a pool, with her life slowly draining out of her. If Peter, a virtual stranger, hasn't saved her, she would have drowned.

But she finds herself missing a part of her memory. Why is she being hunted by the police? Why is it that in the deep recesses of her mind, she feels like there is another “person”, a killing machine that maims and cold-bloodedly kills as soon as the light in her brain turns off?

Peter and Clara decides to piece together a few fragments about her forgotten memories. But as they race to find other pieces to the puzzle, an unknown person is on a vendetta to punish the other person hiding behind Clara’s mysterious black outs.

Who is she, really? And what will become of Peter when she unearths the woman called “Angel” in her?

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READER ADVISORY: This series contains GRAPHIC sexual content that readers may find objectionable, including explicit language, violence, and erotic themes.

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EXCERPT
We made our way through the house, and I thought I could, strangely, smell bacon cooking. Then I realized that it was probably my skin starting to boil under the intense heat of the flames. Once I got to the door that she had pointed out, I opened it to find that the stairs going down to the basement had been completely obliterated.

“We are going to have to jump, so try to tuck your legs in underneath you when you land. You will want to avoid permanent injury to your legs.”

This didn't sound like me – my alter ego Angel… that part of me that called herself Angel… was probably bleeding into my subconscious once again. Instead of fighting her, I allowed her to take control and guide me into taking the appropriate action.

“Are you fucking mad, Clara? That has to be at least six feet straight down! How do you suppose we are going to make that leap without breaking every bone in our body?”

I wasn't going to allow her to question my methods. Better broken bone than dead – for her. I was going to die very soon anyway.

So I pushed her into the blackness and then followed her screaming form down, hoping that I wasn't going to land on her when I came to a stop.

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