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About This Book
Lieutenant Andrea Rowe has a problem. No, it's not the multi-million dollar weapons test she flubbed due to burnout. Nor is it the fact that her boss sent her on an involuntary two months' leave. Instead, Andrea's problem is that recent events have led to her having even more stress...and a 24-hour guard from the local ski patrol. Then "Victim Number Seven" sat down at her table with a bowl of nachos and a surly attitude.
Jason Owderkirk was expecting a normal "dirtside" leave free of the usual troubles that dogged a fighter squadron commander. Instead in less than twenty-four hours he's had to fend off an old friend carrying the galaxy's largest torch, an overcrowded ski resort, and a best friend who thinks that the best way to shrug off one's troubles are to collect the pelts of passing snow bunnies. Forced to sit down with a mysterious femme fatale that has apparently been terrorizing every male who even looks her way, Jason soon finds himself engaged in a dance that's only slightly less dangerous than piloting a starfighter.
Jason Owderkirk was expecting a normal "dirtside" leave free of the usual troubles that dogged a fighter squadron commander. Instead in less than twenty-four hours he's had to fend off an old friend carrying the galaxy's largest torch, an overcrowded ski resort, and a best friend who thinks that the best way to shrug off one's troubles are to collect the pelts of passing snow bunnies. Forced to sit down with a mysterious femme fatale that has apparently been terrorizing every male who even looks her way, Jason soon finds himself engaged in a dance that's only slightly less dangerous than piloting a starfighter.