THE BLURB
A troubled genius who vanishes in a mysterious car crash.
A disillusioned cop sensing conspiracy in the corridors of power.
A ruthless team of mercenaries operating in the shadows.
A billion-dollar business that wants the world in its grip.
One link connects them all.
A champion fighter. Betrayed and searching for the truth.
CAMERON KING IS THE HUNTER.
***
A nerve-shredding, breathless ride, THE HUNTER is perfect for fans of Mark Dawson, David Baldacci, Stephen Leather, Tom Wood, Tom Marcus' CAPTURE OR KILL, Jason Matthews' RED SPARROW and Luke Jennings' KILLING EVE.
'AN EXHILARATING, ACTION-PACKED, GRIPPING TALE...A REAL PAGE TURNER THAT THRILLS AND ENTERTAINS FROM START TO FINISH.' Adam Hamdy, author of the PENDULUM series.
'I LOVED THE HUNTER AND READ IT IN ONE SITTING...FAST PACED ACTION TEMPERED WITH INTELLIGENT PLOTTING' LizLovesBooks
Time goes slower when you're upside-down. Cameron sees the snow spiraling through the windshield,like it's the whole world turning and not her, and she has more than enough time to recognize that queasy lurch of shock, the dawning awareness that you're no longer in control of the fight. That what comes next is a world of hurt, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it.
When the car lands on its roof, it's like being hit with a sledgehammer. Cameron sees nothing but sparks, like purple snow swirling across her vision; feels nothing but the impact, a bone-deep jolt that shakes every single joint in her body loose. She's never been hit so hard in her life and then she's weightless again as the car bounces and makes another three-sixty turn about on its axis.
They tumble twice more, or fifty times - she can't keep track of how many it really is - and at the last something in the roof gives way with a shriek and some fucker chooses that exact moment to kick her in the head.
Cameron is eight years old again, and she's just lost her first fight. In fairness, nobody ever wins when they fight gravity. She lay for a long time on the asphalt not daring to move, because moving made her leg hurt more than anything had hurt before.
It was Nate who came looking for her, eleven years old and not quite strong enough to carry Cameron's weight but he did it anyway, hauling her crying on to his back and walking her home, step by heavy step. Cameron's crying from the pain and doesn't hear him wheezing, struggling for every breath, doesn't realize what's happening until they get home and the ambulance comes and its not for her.
She asks her mum why he did it, lying in bed with her bandaged ankle like a hot coal at the end of her leg. She asks why he carried her all that way when he knew it was hurting him.
"Because he's your brother," she says, always scolding her, as though she's shocked it needs to be said at all.
Cameron wakes up to blinding lights, red and blue flicker; the crunch of boots on fresh snow; the buzz of radio static and the ticks and creaks of metal under stress. There's a hiss of hydraulic pressure, loud enough to startle her fully awake, and she realizes that she's upside down in the wreckage, halfway out of her seat belt, pinned in place between the buckled seat back and what's left of the glove compartment. She's not sure if there's no pain at all, or just too much of it to process.
"Nate?"
It comes out as a whisper. She tries to take a deeper breath, but there's not enough room for her chest to expand. A couple more inches and she wouldn't be breathing at all. She'll take the whisper.
"Nate?"
There's a wedge of fresh air down by her right arm, cubes of safety glass crusted round the edge of what once was a window like salt round the rim of a cocktail glass. A pair of boots appear, turn into gloved hands as whoever's out there gets down on their knees, and finally a face. Cameron can't make out much of his face - he's nothing more than a pink blur right now - but she knows it's not Nate.
"Ho-ho-holy shit," he says, and Cameron tries not to panic, tries to keep her shit together enough that she doesn't hyper-ventilate. Control your breathing when you're in a tight spot: that's what she knows, what she clings to. Make the best of the air you've got. He's looking away now, fumbling for something and Cameron thinks of the hydraulic hiss she heard. The jaws of life. They're going to cut her out of the car. She's going to live.
The man grunts, sliding down on to his side so he can get an arm inside the car. His forearm presses up against Cameron's, and the contact sends pain coursing through her. Every last scrap of self-control she had is taken from her by it, and she twitches and shrieks in her panic as his arm move further into the car. He's holding something up by her face, and Cameron turns towards it. Whatever it is - water, painkillers, a bandage to stem some of the bleeding she hasn't noticed - it has to be important enough that he'd ram his arm into a car wreck to get it to her.
The flash goes off right in her face, and the reflex jerk of her body sends a fresh wave of pain through her. His arm snakes back out of the wreck and Cameron is dimly aware of the sound of him checking the photo and laughing to himself.
"Can't believe he did it," he says. He's got a deep voice. Not local. "He actually fucking did it."
More footsteps, and conversation that Cameron is just to angry to follow. She breaths slow through her nose, brings it all back under control. She's going to live. She's going to live, even if it's only just long enough to take that phone and feed it to its owner.
Time passes, and another face appears at the broken window. She didn't hear them coming, and she can't be sure she was conscious the whole time.
"Miss? Can you hear me?"
Cameron takes as deep a breath as her situation will allow. "Yeah."
"Great. That's great." He sounds like a trainer complimenting her on a good combination. "My name's Mike. Can you tell me yours?"
"Cameron."
"Cameron. Okay. This is going to sound real funny, but don't try to move. We're going to get you out of there."
"What about my brother?"
"Your brother?"
"My brother." The confusion in his voice throws her. "The - the driver. Is he alive?"
"Miss, you're the only person in the car"
Cameron has questions - was he thrown clear? Have they started a search? - but something tightens in her chest and all she can do is gasp, her hands scrabbling against plastic and metal as though to somehow make up for the fact she can't breathe by grabbing hold of the air. She hears Mike swearing, and a flurry of movement, and with one final thought - I'm tapping, you bastard, I'm tapping - she sinks into darkness.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born in Scotland, Andrew Reid worked as a research scientist for almost a decade, on projects including DNA synthesis, forensics, and drug development. He now lives in Stockholm.
His short fiction has featured in several anthologies and his fantasy novel serial has amassed almost 200,000 reads. THE HUNTER is his debut novel.
PUBLICATION DATE: 12th July 2018
Print Length: 352 pages
PUBLISHER: Headline
GENRE: Action&Adventure
PURCHASE LINK....
https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0791HSX5B?pf_rd_p=71cb17e9-f468-4d3f-94d5-a0de44c50a7e&pf_rd_r=ABCTD15WERKTJJPYCBQ3
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