Training Days: The Race Series, #2

By Joan De La Haye

"Training Days" is the gripping second chapter in the adrenaline-fueled series by acclaimed author Joan De La Haye. Join Joanna Perry on a thrilling journey through treacherous landscapes and deadly machinations in a world where danger lurks at every turn.

Fresh from her triumphant victory in The Race, Joanna is catapulted into a new and perilous adventure. From opulent castle halls in Germany to the unforgiving wilderness of Siberia, she finds herself entangled in a web of political games and deadly intrigue. The stakes have never been higher, as she realizes that survival alone may not be enough.

In "Training Days," Joanna faces an unexpected adversary—a cunning and elusive foe whose motives remain shrouded in mystery. She must rely on her strength, skill, and determination to stay one step ahead as danger lurks in every shadow. The true nature of the game she's entangled in must be deciphered, and the secrets that hold the key to life or death must be uncovered.

The race for survival pushes Joanna to her limits, physically and mentally. She will face heart-wrenching choices and form unexpected alliances. Friend and enemy blur and trust becomes a precious commodity in a world where betrayal can come from any direction.

"Training Days" is a riveting continuation of the series that will leave you breathless. With its gripping narrative, edge-of-your-seat action, and labyrinthine plot, it's the perfect choice for fans of suspenseful thrillers and dystopian adventures. Brace yourself for a rollercoaster ride of emotions as Joanna Perry fights for her life and unravels the secrets that could change everything.

Will Joanna conquer the challenges before her and emerge triumphant once again, or will she become ensnared in a web from which there is no escape? Join her on her perilous journey in "Training Days," where survival is just the beginning of a much larger battle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joan De La Haye
• Release date: Aug 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386428879

Joan De La Haye

Joan De La Haye writes horror, dark fantasy and some very twisted thrillers. She invariably wakes up in the middle of the night because she's figured out yet another freaky way to mess with her already screwed-up characters. You can stalk Joan on her website: www.joandelahaye.com

Book preview

Training Days

The Race: Book 2

By

Joan De La Haye

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2017 by Joan De La Haye

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise).

www.joandelahaye.com

Cover art by Tallulah Lucy

1st Edition August 2017

Also by Joan De La Haye

Stand-Alone Books

Requiem in E Sharp

Fury

Oasis

Burning

The Diabolical Series

Shadows

The Veil

The Oubliette

The Eternally Cursed Chronicles

Bound by Betrayal

Short Story Collections

Sliced and Diced

Sliced and Diced 2

Sliced and Diced 3

The Race Series

The Race

Besieged

Retribution

Consequence

The Patron

Table of Contents

Title Page

Also by Joan De La Haye

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

Be a Freaky Darling

Besieged

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Shadows

Requiem in E Sharp

Fury

Oasis

Burning

Sliced and Diced

Sliced and Diced 2

Sliced and Diced 3

Bound by Betrayal

1

I

t was fucking cold, and my arm was killing me. Using it as a shield from Elena’s sword may not have been the smartest move, but I was alive, and she wasn’t. Her blood-soaked the sand of the arena, not mine. Apparently, Graff Von Zimmer had transferred my winnings into a numbered Swiss bank account for me. I vaguely remembered him telling me on the plane just after leaving the Island, but my memory was a little hazy, to say the least. The money would, of course, only be mine if I survived another two races. My chances were slim to none, but I’d survived the first one with absolutely no training, so maybe, just maybe, with some real training, I stood a chance. A small chance, but one I had to take. It wasn’t like I had a choice.

My room in the Graff’s castle was bigger than my entire flat back in Johannesburg. It also had considerably fewer rats, I hoped. My new bed was larger and much more comfortable. My suite was the epitome of opulence. Thankfully it was relatively modern in style and not classical baroque like some parts of the fortress’ interior or a throwback to the dark ages. Not that I’d seen much of the place. The sword I’d won was propped up against the wall on the other side of the room—discarded. Just looking at the damn thing made me want to hurl chunks.

I’d slept most of the way from the Island, thanks to the pain meds, exhaustion, and dehydration, which had made consciousness impossible. I’d only been in the drafty Schloss a few hours, and I already wasn’t a fan of German weather. The sleet hadn’t stopped since our arrival. The fire in the hearth and the blankets I snuggled under did little to warm me up. I was frozen to my very core.

Shock will do that to you.

The snow and the impenetrable walls formed a silent cocoon around me. The stillness isolated and unnerved me. I longed for the sounds of the city. To hear kids screaming as they played, or my neighbour’s crap music, which he always played way too loud. I wondered what would happen to all my stuff back home. I didn’t have much, but it was mine. Or at least it had been. One of my neighbours would probably help themselves to everything when I didn’t come home. They wouldn’t wait long if they hadn’t already done so.

I tried getting up, but my head spun, and pain shattered my resolve. Plus the moment my bare feet touched the marble floor my brain barely had time to register the temperature before my feet were tucked back underneath the blankets. Too fucking cold.

Thankfully, the dead quiet was interrupted by the sound of voices drifting through my bedroom door. I recognised Von Zimmer’s voice barking orders at someone. He opened the door and grunted some more in German at someone I couldn’t see from my bed. I heard rapidly retreating footsteps pounding down the passage. Apparently, the man inspired enough fear in whoever he’d been speaking to, to result in such fast obedience.

He and I were going to have a lot of issues with each other. I wasn’t the obedient sort.

Ah! You are awake, Von Zimmer smiled as he strode into the room.

I simply snuggled deeper into the blankets and stole a glance at my sword.

My dear girl, you have no need to fear me. You are perfectly safe, Von Zimmer said as he plonked down on the bed next to me. We are going to be great friends, you and I, and to prove this, I have brought another friend of mine to take a look at your wounds. He is a genius. The best in his field. You will be up and ready to fight in no time. The bastard smiled again.

And with those words, I realised that I’d be running and fighting for my life sooner than I’d thought.

Fuck!

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to rip his goddam throat out. But I didn’t. Instead, I plastered a smile on my aching face and glanced over Von Zimmer’s shoulder, at the man standing in the doorway. Glasses perched on a slender nose. Unlike Von Zimmer, his face had known real laughter, and laugh lines danced from his hazel eyes to his cheeks. He had an old, but kind face. It was the sort of face you would probably find yourself confessing your greatest sins to over a few glasses of wine—or in my case a few shots of tequila.

May I present Herr Doctor Ernst Mannheim, Von Zimmer said as he gestured at the old dude who smiled and did one of those old-fashioned German bows. He even clicked his heels. I almost expected him to do a full-on Hitler salute, but he didn’t. Thankfully.

I tried to smile again. It didn’t work.

My face felt as though it was contorted in a weird mask and the nerves in my cheeks felt like they were twitching. The pain meds I’d been given had well and truly worn off, and my facial contortions were simply my body’s way of letting my incredibly stubborn brain know that I was not coping. After the twitching, numbness descended, and nausea joined in the fun as the room spun.

The old guy’s face loomed over me. A bright pinprick of light