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Gripping and exciting. I love Izzy Llewellyn. She's my new favorite cop!
Early Review
Sheriff Izzy Llewellyn
Meet Izar "Izzy" Llewellyn, the new sheriff of Darkness, California, who's trading in her FBI badge for small-town law enforcement—though if you ask her, there's nothing "small" about the challenges waiting in Mirage County!
Born and raised in Darkness until her teen years, Izzy grew up watching her father, the beloved Sheriff Lew Llewellyn, serve their tight-knit community with unwavering integrity. Her Basque mother made sure she never forgot her roots, even while Izzy was climbing the ranks at the FBI and making waves in the New York City field office.
But life has a way of bringing you full circle. After losing her husband Mark in a devastating undercover operation gone wrong, Izzy's found herself back home in Darkness. Now she's following in her father's footsteps as sheriff, though she's determined to do things her own way.
She's got the experience, the drive, and a fierce dedication to justice that would make her father proud. But between navigating small-town politics, managing an understaffed department, and dealing with cases that hit way too close to home, Izzy's discovering that wearing the sheriff's star comes with its own unique set of challenges.
Will she find her footing in the shadow of her father's legacy? Can she learn to trust her instincts—and others—again after everything she's been through? One thing's for sure: Sheriff Izzy Llewellyn isn't backing down from any challenge that comes her way in Darkness!
Chapter 01
Special Agent Izzy Llewellyn’s breath frosted in front of her face as she crouched behind a stack of wooden pallets and glanced around the desolate warehouse district, her fingers flexing around the grip of her Glock 19.
This was no Hallmark card. The snow was black and littered with mounds of exploded garbage bags. The organic matter spilling across the sidewalk should have smelled terrible, but the bitter wind whipping in off the Hudson River had mercifully incapacitated Izzy’s olfactory sense completely.
Chapter 01
Special Agent Izzy Llewellyn’s breath frosted in front of her face as she crouched behind a stack of wooden pallets and glanced around the desolate warehouse district, her fingers flexing around the grip of her Glock 19.
This was no Hallmark card. The snow was black and littered with mounds of exploded garbage bags. The organic matter spilling across the sidewalk should have smelled terrible, but the bitter wind whipping in off the Hudson River had mercifully incapacitated Izzy’s olfactory sense completely.
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Hi, I'm Zara, and I love reading!
Suspense, mystery, romance. I read it all. And I write it too. I've been publishing now for 15 years, and I hope you enjoy these worlds and these characters as much as I do.
Chapter 01
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Chapter 01
Special Agent Izzy Llewellyn’s breath frosted in front of her face as she crouched behind a stack of wooden pallets and glanced around the desolate warehouse district, her fingers flexing around the grip of her Glock 19.
This was no Hallmark card. The snow was black and littered with mounds of exploded garbage bags. The organic matter spilling across the sidewalk should have smelled terrible, but the bitter wind whipping in off the Hudson River had mercifully incapacitated Izzy’s olfactory sense completely.
She pulled her spare magazine from its holder, checking it for a third time before sliding it back into place. The familiar weight of her FBI ballistic vest did nothing to ward off the chill that had settled into her bones during the surveillance. Her gaze fixed on the dark sedan parked fifty yards ahead, its windows reflecting the lone sodium light that still functioned along the loading dock.
The warehouse loomed before her, its metal siding corroded from decades of salt air and neglect. Broken windows gaped like missing teeth along the upper level, and chains hung loose from doors that hadn’t seen sanctioned use in years. The south entrance stood ajar, darkness bleeding out onto the frost-slicked pavement.
Izzy moved forward in a low crouch, keeping to the shadows between pools of sickly orange light. Her shoes made no sound on the icy snow as she cleared corners and checked sight lines. The tactical training kicked in automatically—slice the pie, check high, check low, maintain situational awareness.
Inside the warehouse, stacks of abandoned shipping containers created a maze of blind corners and choke points. Water dripped somewhere in the dark, each drop echoing off the metal walls.
The beam of her tactical light swept methodically across empty spaces as she advanced. Her heightened senses caught every whisper of movement—rats scurrying through debris, the settling of old metal in the cold, the distant horn of a vessel on the river. She saw old mattresses and newspaper blankets, syringes and foil packets, discarded baggies. No human sounds. Not yet.
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