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WolfSinger Publications

Don't Write What You Know;

Write What You Care About -- Passionately!

Eye for Eye
- F. Lynn Godfriaux

​While  recovering from a gunshot wound and the death of her sister, Mattie  Tyler is taken hostage by a team of mercenaries on a mission to avenge  their leader, who died deep in the Colorado Rockies.

When  Mattie disappears, her husband Jeremiah becomes the prime suspect as  investigators follow a trail of murder and destruction in rural  Oklahoma, otherwise known as the notorious Tornado Alley.


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“Mattie, you might have asked me to retrieve a glass for you,” Hawk admonished, his British accent sounding tense.

“I  don’t have the energy to tell you where to look.” I stood on my left  leg and clung to the kitchen counter as pain streaked up my broken right  leg encased in Plaster of Paris.

“Where is your domestic help?”

I  sighed. “I sent William and Anna home. They’re both ex­hausted. I can  manage on my own.” Gritting my teeth and wishing my husband were present  to help me, I hopped one-legged along the counter and opened expensive  cherry cupboards until I found a glass.

Shaking  his head, Hawk plucked the glass from my hand, crossed to the sink and  filled it with water. His black long-sleeved turtleneck and dark gray  trousers heightened the iridescence of his gray eyes. I drained the  glass empty, set it on the counter. The outside floodlights suddenly  blinked on and through the kitchen windows I spotted a large white  moving van disappear down the long winding drive.

“Sit  down.” Hawk’s curt order distracted me from the curious presence of the  van, and I tried and failed to hide my wince as I lowered myself into  the wheelchair. He lifted my cast onto the steel leg support. I stared  at the wrinkled black cotton T-shirt funeral dress I still wore,  reflected miserably over the sunny warm mid-June Monday morning that now  dragged into a warm stormy Monday night.

The  outside floodlights blinked off. Tears leaked from the corners of my  eyes, and I opened my mouth to ask Hawk to retrieve my sister’s urn from  the music room.

Without  warning the double kitchen doors burst open and five men in black  assault gear spilled into the kitchen. With spine-chilling silence, they  fanned into a semi-circle, their eyes glaring with outright hatred at  me through their black balaclavas.

Behind  me, Hawk leaned over and curled his hands around my wrists, his fingers  like steel cuffs as they pinned mine against the arms of the chair.

“H-Hawk…?”  My throat constricted, my heart pounded hard against my chest and my  lungs shriveled until I couldn’t breathe as I stared at the lethal end  of five automatic rifles.

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