Authors: Mandy M. Roth
Broken Communication (Immortal Outcasts)
Mandy M. Roth
Broken Communication (Immortal Outcasts) © Copyright 2014, Mandy M. Roth
Cover art by Andrea Depasture, © Copyright 2014
First Electronic Printing December 2014, The Raven Books
Edited by Suz Gower
Final Line Edits by Dianne B., Jinxie, Lesley Parkin
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Mandy M. Roth.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Intended for adults only. Intended for mature audience only.
Published by Raven Books
Raven Books and all affiliate sites and projects are © Copyrighted 2004-2014
Mandy M. Roth Featured Books
Immortal Outcasts (Part of the Immortal Ops World)
Immortal Ops Series
Area of Influence
Zone of Action
PSI-Ops Series (Part of the Immortal Ops World)
Act of Mercy
Act of Surrender
Act of Submission
Act of Security
Act of Command
Act of Passion
Act of Engagement
Act of Pride
Act of Duty
Shadow Agents Series & Crimson Sentinels Series (Part of the Immortal Ops World) Coming Soon!
Mandy M. Roth, Online
Mandy loves hearing from readers and can be found interacting on social media.
(copy & paste links into your browser window)
Roth Head (Mandy M. Roth Fans) Facebook Group:
Book Release Newsletter:
(Newsletters: I do not share emails and only send newsletters when there is a new release/contest/or sales)
Broken Communication (Immortal Outcasts)
Part of the Immortal Ops Series World
Mandy M. Roth
Genetically altered into a super soldier who can shift into a wolf, Casey Black should have been the perfect asset—but that wasn’t to be. The scientists who conducted DNA splicing experiments on him put a little too much wolf in his cocktail. Considered a danger to society and a risk to the survival of the secret project, the government tried to eliminate him. The former Immortal Operative has spent the majority of his life on the run and off the grid from the very government who’d helped him be ‘all he could be’
When the sassy, headstrong woman who makes his body burn with need vanishes, he realizes it’s not his head, but rather his heart that is broken. And he’ll do whatever is called for to mend it.
To my readers: For loving my genetically altered alpha bad boy ops for over ten years now.
Praise for Mandy M. Roth’s Immortal Ops World
Silver Star Award—
I feel Immortal Ops deserves a Silver Star Award as this book was so flawlessly written with elements of intrigue, suspense and some scorching hot scenes
—Aggie Tsirikas—Just Erotic Romance Reviews
Immortal Ops is a fascinating short story. The characters just seem to jump out at you. Ms. Roth wrote the main and secondary characters with such depth of emotions and heartfelt compassion I found myself really caring for them
—Susan Holly—Just Erotic Romance Reviews
Immortal Ops packs the action of a Hollywood thriller with the smoldering heat that readers can expect from Ms. Roth. Put it on your hot list…and keep it there!
—The Road to Romance
Her characters are so realistic, I find myself wondering about the fine line between fact and fiction...This was one captivating tale that I did not want to end. Just the right touch of humor endeared these characters to me even more
5 Steamy Cups of Coffee—
Combining the world of secret government operations with mythical creatures as if they were an everyday thing, she (Ms. Roth) then has the audacity to make you actually believe it and wonder if there could be some truth to it. I know I did. Nora Roberts once told me that there are some people who are good writers and some who are good storytellers, but the best is a combination of both and I believe Ms. Roth is just that. Mandy Roth never fails to surpass herself
Mandy Roth kicks ass in this story
Note from the Author:
Broken Communication is book one in the Immortal Outcasts Series, a spinoff from my bestselling Immortal Ops World which has been available to readers for over ten years now—spawning many books and spin-offs. I hope you love this glimpse into the genetically altered men the government classified Outcasts.
Sweat-soaked and in a panic, his body shaking, Casey Black sat up on the edge of an old cot in the center of a sparsely furnished room, his head hung in defeat. A quick check of his watch revealed he’d been asleep less than an hour. Denying himself much-needed rest over the past week had left him exhausted and his mind a muddled mess. Not that his mind hadn’t been heading in that direction on its own for a long time.
While the sleep had been required for his body to continue to function, it had not been welcome. He’d dreamt of horrors from long ago—ones he could no more change the outcome of than he could control the weather.
With his forearm, he wiped the sweat from his brow and stood, stretching his sore muscles. The bathroom off the bedroom wasn’t anything that anyone sane would want to use, let alone drink from the faucet
but Casey wasn’t what anyone would term of sound mind. He bent his head and put his mouth under the old faucet, unconcerned with the rust and grime coating the sink as he turned the handle. The water tasted heavily of rust and sediment, but it was cool and quenched his thirst, so he paid it little mind. He’d had worse.
He had bigger matters at hand than the quality of his drinking water. He had to find Harmony. She’d already been gone a week. His gut said she was still alive, but he suspected that wouldn’t last long. If he knew anything about the woman, she was full of spit, vinegar and probably caviar or some other fancy food.
“Don’t,” he said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Mold coated the bottom corner of the mirror, leaving only a portion of Casey’s face visible, but it was enough for him to see just how far he’d fallen. He looked like a crazed mountain man rather than the high-society gentleman he’d once been, long ago, before deciding to serve his country—before he signed away his life. Before he agreed to be reinvented.
He snorted and half-laughed at the sight of himself there. “Furball.”
Harmony had called him that more than once over the years. It was strange how much he missed her annoying names for him and her cutting remarks. How much he missed
He splashed water on his face and left the small bathroom, making his way across the room. He tossed on the overhead light and the single, suspended bulb did little to cut through the darkness of the room. The damn thing was practically an antique, and he wasn’t sure how it didn’t burn the whole fucking place down. Exposed wires on the frayed cord signaled the mice were back. They’d leave now that he was at the safe house again. They knew when to avoid a predator, and he was the biggest around. And like the many times before, once he stopped bothering to do more than check in on the place every couple of months, they’d resurface, sensing the big bad wolf was gone.
The light from the bulb barely made a dent in the quest to illuminate his findings. Some human habits died hard. Lighting a room was one of them, even though he preferred it darker. His eyes, having been genetically altered long ago, were sensitive to light.
Ever since the
“Yeah, if that was a mishap, then the Hindenburg was a hiccup and the Titanic sinking was
bad for the boating industry
” he said softly, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered whispering. The safe house was secure and remote. All his safe houses were. It’s why he’d picked them over the decades.
He had homes all over the world. Some were fancy. A lot were barely standing. He had money. Most immortals did—even the ones on the run. There had been a time and place when he’d thought all life’s questions had answers found in fortune.
He’d been wrong.
Nearly dead wrong.
He bent his head in remembrance of the life he’d been forced to leave behind over a century ago. His mother would have been horrified at the state of disrepair the safe house was in. He rubbed his shaggy beard, just under his chin, knowing she would have forbidden such an unsightly state. As much as he’d loathed her demanding nature, he missed her. Missed all his family. They’d passed long ago.
“You have Laney now,” he said softly, reminding himself that, in reality, his enemies had given him something of a family again when they’d used his DNA samples, taken against his will, to help in the creation of other supernaturals. Laney was a good girl who was mated to a man who could protect her. Casey had passed that baton to him a week prior, after carrying it faithfully for years.
So much had developed in such a short period of time. Casey had foolishly permitted himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. Into believing his life of living on the run was behind him. He’d known better. Deep down. But that hadn’t stopped hope from burning strongly within him.
His emotions welled. Letting them free was a bad idea. He wasn’t allowed to have extreme emotions anymore. Doing so left him weakened against his inner beast.
“My own fucking demon,” he said, venom dripping from every word. He’d never, as of yet, completely mastered the animal side of himself. Over the years he’d met natural-borns, men and women born with the ability to shift forms into animals. He’d even run into those who had been attacked by a natural and lived to tell the tale—getting pretty fucking furry the month following. They all seemed to have a better handle on their animal sides than he did.
That was what the scientists had called him way back when he’d been their pet project.
“Special, my ass.”
They’d gotten lucky with him. Unbeknownst to Casey and the scientists at the time, he had supernaturals in his family history somewhere, which left his body in a better position to accept what wasn’t natural to it—wolf DNA, among other things the group had thought up and used.
Straight humans weren’t so lucky.
He almost laughed at the idea of what had happened to him being anything other than a nightmare. It had been nearly one hundred years since he’d volunteered to help better his country. Since he’d agreed to try to make a difference and better the future of mankind.
Since he’d said yes to becoming a lab rat. A human test subject for twisted scientists who wanted to
the human race.
Spoon-fed lines of total and utter bullshit.
He was living proof of that.
Sure, their goal eventually worked, but that meant little for the good men and women who had been used to further the cause of science and died because of it. And it sure the fuck meant little to those who had been subjected to testing against their will—by some of the very same doctors who
the first attempts at creating super soldiers. The
of the eugenics movement.