Target Lock on Love
Excerpt
As the Little Bird helicopter bucked its way through the early October storm, Lieutenant Mick “The Mighty Dozer” Quinn wasn’t too worried; it wasn’t that much of a storm. Especially not by Gulf of Alaska standards. But it did think that slapping their helicopter, the Linda, about the sky was good sport and that was making him work for it. It churned enough salt into the air that inside the cabin smelled like being home. The air was unique here: salt, air fresh off the tundra, moisture whipped so hard it tasted alive—he’d missed it to the core of his soul.
Thirty, twenty, and two.
Thirty-knot winds—thirty-five miles-an-hour to landlubbers. Twenty-foot waves—not even enough to slow down his family’s commercial crabbing operation. And two miles visibility—if it
