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Lianna: Hollywood Fix, #1
Lianna: Hollywood Fix, #1
Lianna: Hollywood Fix, #1
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Lianna: Hollywood Fix, #1

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Lance Tucker is a force to be reckoned with. Hollywood elite hire him to handle their dirty work. 

Having spent years in the Special Forces, he has made a name for himself. If your lead actress disappears, he finds her. Got drug problems, death threats, he erases them. Dirty work that would make any grown man cringe, means nothing to Tuck. 

With his network of contacts, he's able to keep things on the down low, assuring none of what you need hits the papers. But has Tuck met his match in Lianna Landry? 


Lianna, a beauty since childhood, caught Hollywood's eyes and hearts as a child. Growing up in glittery Hollywood, she did what a lot of child actors do, she fell down a path of destruction and drugs. She's in and out of rehab and trouble, until a movie producer gives her a last chance at redemption. After disappearing from set, Tuck is sent to find her. 

But, when he does, she's gotten herself in way over their heads. Can Tuck save Lianna from a certain death or worse at the hands of Akio Hokkaido? Can they fight their attraction long enough to stay alive? 

**This book was previously title Tucked In. The book has had major rewrites that affect the story. It is basically a new story. 

LanguageEnglish
PublisherN Kuhn
Release dateMar 12, 2015
ISBN9781507094181
Lianna: Hollywood Fix, #1
Author

N Kuhn

N Kuhn grew up in a small town in Western New York. Having spent her afternoons outside or with a book, she grew up with a love of reading and writing. Her mother and grandmother fully encouraged this in her. Many years later, after a husband and children, she made a promise to her dying grandmother to fulfill her dream of being an author. Her grandmother lived to see N's name in print. This was a turning moment for her. Driven by ambition and a promise made, she has since published several titles including the Mohawk Trilogy, Tucked In, Buffalo Rocker and the Tricks series. N Kuhn has several other books that will be out later this year. When she's not writing, she is in college for a Business degree, runs her blog, bartends and promotes for other authors. Family and coffee are her two staples in life.

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    Book preview

    Lianna - N Kuhn

    Chapter 1

    Gun Clip Art

    Sometimes I wonder how I got here. Scooping my suit jacket off the floor, I shake it off. It will need to be dry-cleaned. It’s covered in little white hairs. The wanna-be model I went home with last night has one of those annoying little purse dogs. Looking back at the bed, I see her naked body sprawled across the mattress. The sheet barely covering her plump ass. Her long blonde hair is draped across her face. Living in the land of glitz and glammer, this poor girl is going to be eaten alive. She was a sweet girl, naïve in bed, eager to jump on any man she thought had money. Maybe this will be a lesson learned for her. Not that I’m heartless, but I’m not the staying type of man. Occasionally I miss the years when life was simple and only about getting up early and shooting things.

    ––––––––

    The Past

    ––––––––

    Growing up I had decided that I wanted to be Rambo. My mother couldn’t afford a babysitter for all her late night boozing, so she used the TV. I recall her standing in the doorway, a cigarette hanging from her lips, smoke curling around her face. Her eyes were always bloodshot, either from drinking or being hung-over. Whichever it was, she never faltered from heading back out to the bar again each night. She was pretty enough, in a Trailer Park mom sort of way. Her too tight clothes and painted on makeup actually made her look aged more than she really was. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized she only had 15 years on me.

    TV dinners were my best friend and the television was my role model. From the first time she sat me in front of the VCR with the first Rambo, I knew that had to be me when I grew up. I craved military movies, anything that had bad ass tough guy heroes. I used to pretend our backyard was the jungle. Crawling my way through mud, with my best friend killing the bad guys is how we spent every summer. It's all I ever wanted out of life. So at eighteen, it was no shock to anyone when I joined the army, leaving my small town life and the trailer park behind me. Never once did I look back to that little Texas town. For years growing up I thought I would rot and die in that dilapidated metal box like everyone else. Spending your childhood cleaning vomit off of your mothers face and trying to keep up appearances to keep CPS off your back will wear you down. I refused to end up like most of the other people in that town.

    I spent ten years in the Special Forces, I partook in black ops and finally got to live out my dreams of being a real live Rambo. Jeremy, my best friend had joined with me and we moved up the ranks together, eventually getting assigned to the same Special Forces unit. I was a sniper and he was our explosives expert. Traveling the world, killing bad guys, that was what dreams were made of. I was part of an elite Sniper team. Braxton Buzz Parker was my spotter. I shoot and Buzz watched my six. He watched my targets, and made sure my shots hit. In a team like ours, you get to know each other. You become more than partners, more than friends, you’re a family. A few years into my first stint I was in Saudi Arabia on a special recon mission. I got word that I was being sent home for my mother’s funeral. She had overdosed. Apparently not having me there to clean her up anymore led her to use the harder stuff. That didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me, was that my Commander, who knew how I felt, thought that I would leave my brothers to watch her be lowered into a muddied grave.

    After eventually getting back from that mission, my team mates, my brothers, the only family I had left, huddled around me as I stared at the empty trailer. She had sold almost everything she ever possessed. The ratty couch I used to sit on was still there. It smelled of urine and body odor. Buzz, stood by my side, staring silently into space. It took me all of 5 minutes to realize that I was over it. I was over my bad childhood and there was nothing left here for me. That night he handed me a beer as we watched the shamble of a home burn. As I walked away from my past, I vowed to never look back.

    ––––––––

    The happy times all ended though, one rainy night in the jungles of South America. Our unit had been sent after a drug cartel moving guns they had stolen from an army base. Their leader was a badass man called El Burro, The Ass. Why anyone would want to be called The Ass, I have no clue, but by birth he was Javier Condos. Our informant was a deflector from his camp. He hadn’t known that Condos had his men plant mines around their base camp perimeter and our Intel never caught it. Go figure, the government messing something up? Our unit had spent four grueling days trekking through this jungle. We were all soaked from the rain, exhausted and almost out of MRE’s. Our attitudes that were once gung ho and ready to kill had turned sour. As we neared the camp, suddenly our adrenaline had returned. Each of us was picking up a second or fifth wind, our paces quickened. We were all ready to get out of this steamy jungle. The heat, the bugs, the mud, we were over it.

    One of our rookies on the team didn’t pay attention and stepped on a mine. Rios told him to stay put but he didn’t listen and that is when shit hit the fan. Him lifting his foot was the last thing I saw before getting thrown backwards. My shoulder felt like it was on fire, and then I blacked out. Every so often, I came to. The first time, I tried calling out, to see who else was alive. Looking to my left, I met the cold dead gaze of my best friend and last connection to my past. My teammate and brother Jeremy Rios, was killed in the blast, along with the rookie, my shoulder was horribly messed up. Other team members were injured, but not as bad. Torn and bloody I had lain on the jungle with nothing to look at but his broken and dead body.

    ––––––––

    Jeremy had been my best buddy since I was six. We did everything together, even joining the Army and going through Special Forces training side by side. We rose in the ranks together, went out for Special Forces together, and expected to retire with each other. He was the only part of my past that I had, that I cared about. I don’t remember much of that night after the blast, except going in and out of consciousness. I could hear teammates trying to get up, taking stock of injuries. Buzz was dragging his leg behind him, trying to raise Command on the radio. I was covered in blood. Mine, Jeremy’s, the Rookie’s, who knew. I faded back out. The next time I came too, it was silent around me. Trying to turn my head caused my stomach to quiver. I couldn’t shield my eyes from the sun that was streaming through the tree tops. Suddenly the sun was gone. Something or someone was blocking it. I had scanned the jungle, my brothers scattered around, hopefully just unconscious, not dead.

    Looking up, I saw El Burro standing over me. I could see his lips moving, his words filled with hatred.

    Tucker, he read off my dog tags, Americans, he spit on me, Hah. This one won’t live, he’s covered in blood. Let’s go. Pack it up. He had kicked me with the toe of his boot and it took everything inside of me to lie still. If I had moved even a fraction of an inch, he would have most likely shot me. There was no way I could get to my M82 that was at least ten feet away in time. But I vowed to find that bastard again and put a bullet through his head. Trust me, I will find him. He’s done so many despicable things, he deserves a rotten death. Drug trafficking, sex trafficking, rape, murder. You name it, he’s guilty of it. His worst crime, causing the death of my brothers. That’s why we even had an informant in the first place. Burro took the man’s fiancé and raped her. He had said that as leader, he was entitled to try her first. The man makes me sick and will be wiped from the face of this earth.

    ––––––––

    The government, neither ours nor South Americas, knew what he looked like, or so they said. That’s why they claim to have had difficulty capturing him. Sure, they have found some low level jockeys of his. But that doesn’t go far. When one of them is caught, he moves his base. Further and further into the jungle

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