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The Edward Hunter Series - In the first two novels, Edward Hunter stumbles his way into Queen Elizabeth I's network of spies. Think James Bond meets Elizabethan England. Book one is titled, Rebellion, and book two is titled, Massacre. Prepare for adventure, suspense, and, of course, some blood and romance. 


Rebellion
While wrestling with conflicting loyalties, a spy must infiltrate a rebel camp, and prevent the rebels from seizing Mary Queen of Scots to head their rebellion.Can he succeed, find where his loyalties lie, and navigate the perils of first love?



Massacre
A spy is sent to Paris to discover the source of smuggled Catholic propaganda. His mission expands when he must solve the murder of an informant, discover who is trying to assassinate the English Ambassador, match wits with the femme fatales of the French court, and survive the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre.




 Snippets:

            "Edward Hunter teetered unsteadily on the windowsill of the whore’s chamber. Behind him he could hear the cries of the mob and a splintering crash as a bench rammed against the locked door. To his left, torchlight glimmered on the thin slice of the Thames he could glimpse between the two bawdy houses.  Odors of excrement and putrefaction rose from the alley three stories below, and he looked down at mud, splintered wood, and the glinting spikes of broken bottles. Across the chasm that yawned before him, he saw Thomas standing at an open casement, waving his hands feverishly, urging him to jump.

            How in hell had he allowed himself to get into this mess?" -Rebellion

 

            "At the corner, Edward slipped on the mud and felt it stick to his sole as he lifted his foot. The streets of Paris were not running with blood any more, at least not the rue Vieille du Temple. Here the blood had congealed. To his left a pile of naked male and female bodies were twisted together in what appeared to be macabre embraces. He stared at the face of the young woman nearest him and reflected that she had been beautiful. Now her vacant eyes gazed up to the window above, from which these men and women had been hurled. He sensed movement beyond the pile of bodies. A primitive instinct snapped his head back to street level. He could not spare sympathy for these victims, but must consider his own survival. Though he could only make out figures in the distance, moving away from him, a scream echoed from farther to the north, beyond the Hôtel de Guise. A shiver ran down his spine. So the killing continued.

            He remembered the day he had arrived in Paris five months before, full of excitement and expectation, on a mission for Lord Burghley, hoping to win favor at Court and to prove himself a worthy suitor to the daughter of a Yorkshire knight. Now the city had become a slaughter house full of Protestant carcasses, and he hoped merely to survive. If he encountered a neighbor who recognized him as the Englishman lodging at the Chessboard Inn, the man the militia was searching for early that morning, he would become another Protestant corpse, killed to advance that neighbor’s reputation for religious zeal. Even if he did not meet anyone who recognized him as he made his way to the Seine, he doubted he could he reach the river without confronting someone who would demand to see what the two bundles he was carrying contained—one of blood-stained clothes and the other the head of the first man he had killed." -Massacre