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Daria Gibron, star of CRASHERS, BREAKING POINT and ICE COLD KILL, is back.

Daria, a freelance operative with a long and deadly history, has been hiding out in rural Italy, avoiding the enemies she’s made in the CIA, the Israeli government and Western law enforcement agencies. An old colleague tracks her down and seeks her help protecting an aerospace engineer from the White Scorpions, a Serbian mercenary group.

GUN METALMeanwhile, a small group of disgraced CIA agents have been waiting for their chance to exact revenge on the person they blame for their discharge — Daria Gibron.

Soon Daria is in the thick of both fights, squaring off against enemies from all sides and facing the threat of stolen military technology that can lay waste to entire cities.

The chase takes her from Italy to the former Yugoslavia. With the help of John Broom, a congressional aide, Daria has to thwart her old foes, take on new ones, and face perhaps her greatest challenge yet: Veronica, a mercenary with whom she is so evenly matched, they might as well be opposite sides of the same coin.

With the odds against her, Daria is in the worst danger of her life. And she couldn’t be having more fun.

“A high-voltage, high-body-count thrill ride!” – Publishers Weekly


Minotaur Books

Tuto perfetto!

This is an example of the e-mail I get from Keith, my editor at St. Martin’s Press:

“So, we just made our first foreign sale on Crashers. It’s been sold to Italy, where it will be published by Rizzoli. More details still to come, of course, but wanted to quickly brighten everyone’s frozen January morning.”

Can I take a moment here? We just sold the foreign rights to Italy. I told Katy last night. She looked into my eyes and said, “I want to touch you.” I said, and I wasn’t kidding, “I want to touch me.”

We sold the foreign rights to Italy. I’ve been to Italy, like, six times. I love Italy. They want to publish my book. They invented romance. They have the copyright on it. When we kiss, we owe them a nickel. They just bought my freakin’ book.

We were in Italy in October, at Lake Como. In a quintessentially romantic village called Varenna. I want to call Rizzoli and say: “Save the stamp. We’ll come get the check.”

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