Out of Darkness Excerpt + Giveaway

About the Story:

When her husband is killed by a car bomb on their wedding day, Elisabeth literally watches her dreams go up in smoke.  Three years later, she’s beginning to figure out life without Drew—with the help of his best friend and CIA partner Gabe. But Drew returns, and they must rebuild what was lost with international arms dealers on their trail and an ever shrinking list of people they can trust. Gabe should be at the top of that list, but his feelings for Elisabeth may stand in the way. All three of them end up in a fight for their lives that will test their loyalty to God, country, and each other.


People pressed in around her, the same faces that had been smiling last week when Drew was at her side, except they’d traded in their festive colors for black and gray. Most of them simply hugged her and told her how sorry they were. Some cried too. A few tried to encourage her with well-intentioned but infuriating platitudes.

After hearing “he’s in a better place” one too many times, she wanted to scream. I don’t care! I want him here with me where he belongs.

“You look like you could use some fresh air.” Gabe’s hand cupped her elbow. “Wanna get out of here for a while?”

“Oh, I uh… I’m not sure I’m allowed to leave.”

“I don’t think anyone’s gonna try and stop you. And if they do, I’m packin’ heat.”

She let one corner of her mouth tilt up. “What about—?”

“I already cleared it with Mel and your mom. Let’s go.”

She didn’t argue. They went out the back doors, so she didn’t have to see the charred pavement across the street. He led her toward the little park and picnic shelter behind the church. Her heels dug into the dirt as they walked the path through the woods—which was more like fifteen or twenty trees grouped together, but had seemed like a forest when she and Drew played hide and seek there as kids.

Gabe laid his jacket down on the bench and gestured for her to sit. She arched an eyebrow. “Gabe, I could buy five of these dresses for what that suit cost.”

He rolled his eyes. “Would you please just sit? It’ll make me feel better… and it’s more like ten.”

She punched him lightly in the arm and sat, taking a deep breath. Everything felt lighter out here—like a harbor away from the storm. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, feeling the breeze. Maybe hoping to catch just a whisper of Drew as it lifted her hair. But all she felt was Gabe.​


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About the Author:

Erynn Newman is a pastor’s kid, raised in churches all over the Eastern Seaboard. Since earning her degree in Christian Studies, she has traveled the world and served as a missionary, a counselor, an ESL teacher, and a nanny. Though she has never worked with the CIA, her DVR contains a veritable Who’s Who of international spies. She is a Carolina girl, a wife, and Mama to a very busy little boy, two cats, and a gaggle of characters that live inside her head.

Connect with Erynn through her website, Facebook, and Twitter.

Purchase Out of Darkness and the prequel novella First Light on Amazon, or subscribe to Erynn’s newsletter to receive the novella for free.




Excerpt: Operation Zulu Redemption – Part 4: Act of Treason

RFFTODGRThroughout the past few weeks, I have devoured Ronie Kendig’s Operation Zulu: Redemption. With shocking twists and turns at every corner, waiting for each new installment has been torture. On Friday, the final episode of season one, Act of Treason, will be released. You can pre-order it here so that it will hit your e-reader first thing on Friday. In the meantime, here is a sneak peek to wet your appetite. Enjoy!


Frankfurt, Germany

9 June – 2355 Hours

Téya glanced at The Turk, stunned and confused. Slowly, she swung her gaze back to the monitor. Every nerve ending buzzed. The man in the video was her stepfather. “How. . .?”

The Turk watched her in silence, holding her gaze but saying nothing.

“How is this possible? He died—six years ago.”

“His death was faked.”

Téya straightened, feeling as if a tidal wave of unbelievable information pummeled her. “Faked?” Mind ablaze with that revelation, her brain immediately leaped to—“My mom.”

The Turk’s expression didn’t change. “She died in that accident.”

“If he survived, then she—”

He took a step forward and squared his shoulders. “Your perceptions about the man who married your mother were borne of a cover story he fed your mother and you.”

“Cover story?” Téya felt as if a bucket of ice had been dumped down her back. “What are you—” She severed the question and her thought. Did he seriously expect her to believe anything he said? “You lure me in here, you deceive and lie to me—why would I believe you?”

Again, The Turk said nothing.

Téya’s heart still beat wildly, scrambling to iron out the truth. Sort the deluge of shattered facts about her life. “My sister. . .” Her mom married Georg Hostetler when Téya was only four. “All those years. . .”

The Turk took a step back. “We need to leave.”

Téya flinched, looking at him. His eyes weren’t brown as she’d thought. They had tinges of green and gold. And they were intense. And he wasn’t looking at her. She followed his gaze to a monitor that showed a throng of guards racing through the halls.

Alarms shrieked through the cement halls, screaming about their intrusion. Alerting everyone here and around the mountain.

A sharp hiss snapped her back to him. He stood out in the hall. When had he even opened the door? The dude was lightning fast. Téya bolted into the cement corridor after him. He moved fast, not waiting for her. Not checking on her. Téya told herself to stick close. She wouldn’t put it past him to leave her to the wolves.

What bothered her more was his skill in navigating the passages. He knew them. Knew them well.

Uncertainty poured through her as they banked right. Téya used the opposite wall to rebound and keep moving, propelling herself faster. She toyed with the idea of tackling him. Demanding information, an explanation. But those instincts were muddied by the out-of-left-field reappearance of her stepfather.

He’s here. I’m here. And I’m running.

She would love to go back and hammer the answers out of him, the explanation of how he survived. But something about the way The Turk stared at her. . .left her sick to her stomach and uncertain those answers would provide closure.


Have you followed Team Zulu’s journey so far? I’d love to hear your thoughts!