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Tiffany Morrow had thought she only imagined the demon horse with glowing red eyes at the airport but there was no mistaking the mountain view she had seen out of the window this morning. She was really and truly in Denver. Home. The nightmare of the jungle was over. She really didn't know how much time had passed since she'd been carried out of that vile cabin in the Amazon. She did remember that - waking for a moment or two in the arms of someone strong. Whispered words she couldn't recall. Words that had struck her as kind. "So why did you run from them? God, you do the stupidest things." The voices that had been nearly eliminated before she had awakened in a Brazilian hell had been her almost constant companion without the meds whose job it was to hush them to a whisper. She knew it would do no good to answer the voices. They never listened to her. But she did know why she was running from those who had helped her. Aaron McCain had spoken with kind and beautiful words before selling her to a sex trafficker. Kind words were often a trap. Who's to say that her "rescuers" weren't taking her from one hell to another?

Colorado Book Awards winner, mystery.

Colorado Author's League winner, mystery.