Publisher Description

Ryder Creed and his K9 search-and-rescue dogs return in the second installment of this exciting series, teaming up once more with FBI profiler Maggie O'Dell in their riskiest case yet.
 
When Ryder Creed responds to a devastating mudslide in North Carolina, he knows that the difference between finding survivors and the dead is time. He and his sturdiest search-and-rescue dog, Bolo, get to work immediately, but the scene is rife with danger: continued rainfall prevents the rescue teams from stabilizing the land; toxic household substances spread by the crushing slide fill the area with hazardous waste; and the detritus and debris are treacherous for both man and dog to navigate. But most perilous are the secrets hidden under the mud and sludge—secrets someone would kill to protect. For this is no ordinary rescue mission. Among the buildings consumed by the landslide was a top-secret government research facility, and Creed has been hired to find what's left of it. 

Then rescuers recover the body of a scientist from the facility who was obviously dead before the landslide—killed by a gunshot to the head. The FBI sends Agent Maggie O'Dell to investigate, and she and Creed are soon caught in a web of lies, secrets, and murder that may involve not only the government facility, but decades-old medical experiments that are the subject of current congressional hearings. As more bodies are found under even more unusual circumstances, they come ever closer to exposing the truth—but with unknown forces working against them, Maggie, Creed, and the dogs are running out of time.

Author Biography

Alex Kava is the New York Times bestselling author of several novels, including the Ryder Creed series and the internationally bestselling mystery series featuring FBI profiler Maggie O'Dell. Her novels have been published in more than twenty countries around the world. She is a member of International Thriller Writers and divides her time between Omaha, Nebraska, and Pensacola, Florida.

Review

Praise for Silent Creed

"Thrill lovers, prepare to be taken on a ride!...With twists, turns, and suspense galore, Breaking Creed and Silent Creed are near impossible to put down. Guaranteed to keep you up all night!"—Modern Dog

"Exciting...Creed is a multifaceted character whose hidden depths are only barely revealed in this intense thriller, which builds to an explosive conclusion."—Publishers Weekly

"Producing an engrossing, suspense-filled, completely original mystery entwining dozens of trustworthy and dishonest characters in three separate locations could be messy, but Alex Kava's dexterity as an accomplished thriller writer shines upon the pages of her latest novel...After finishing Kava's latest addictive installment, you'll immediately want to dive into another adventure starring O'Dell, Creed and the dogs."—Lincoln Journal Star
 
"If the reader loves mystery and danger with a cast of characters that range from the brave to the beautiful, this is the summer book of all summer books. This may be only the second tale of Ryder Creed, but it is a guarantee readers will be screaming for more. The plotline is all about intrigue and action, and the connection between Ryder and Bolo is one that all true animal lovers will understand. 5 Stars!"—Suspense Magazine
 
"Combines a riveting mystery, a backstory of military dog handlers, and rescue dogs...Silent Creed has an intense storyline along with details about rescue operations, the difficulties faced by returning military personnel, and the importance of dogs in people's lives. Anyone who loves dogs should read these books."—Crimespree Magazine

More Praise for Alex Kava

"Breaking Creed simply blew me away, mostly with the introduction of a character who can finally and truly stand toe-to-toe with O'Dell. Ryder Creed—along with his dogs!— is a true inspiration:  tough, smart, dynamic.  The pairing of Creed and O'Dell elevates this thriller to the next level. For any dog lover, it's a must-read. For any lover of nail-biting suspense, it's a book you'll not be able to put down. Get it now!"—New York Times bestselling author James Rollins
 
"[Contains] vivid and engaging detail about how dogs are trained and how they behave on the job. Grace and Creed's other dogs become distinct personalities....[A] highly original novel."—Florida Weekly
 
"Creed is special, a memorable character—he trains homeless dogs to sniff out contraband and hunt criminals. When he teams up with Kava's iconic FBI forensics specialist Maggie O'Dell, you'll discover the most exciting crime-solving duo of the year."—New York Times bestselling author Gayle Lynds
 
"With Creed, his partners and special dogs, the author has given us a cast of new players to meet and get to know....A nail-biting, can't-put-it-down mystery."—Omaha World-Herald

"Breaking Creed has a very fast-paced and thrilling plot with many twists and turns. For any dog lover this is a must-read. [Readers] can also just enjoy the tough, smart, and dynamic characters of this series."—Crimespree Magazine

Review Quote

Acclaim for SILENT CREED "Exciting . . . . [an] intense thriller, which builds to an explosive conclusion."-- Publishers Weekly Praise for BREAKING CREED: " Breaking Creed simply blew me away, mostly with the introduction of a character who can finally and truly stand toe-to-toe with O'Dell. Ryder Creed--along with his dogs!-- is a true inspiration:

Excerpt from Book

Chapter 1 Haywood County, North Carolina Daniel Tate clenched his teeth and looked away just as the needle pierced a vein in his arm. He''d spent two tours of duty in Iraq and one in Afghanistan. He''d been shot at, dodged IEDs, and escaped a grenade. But needles - damn, he hated needles. "This will help relax you," Dr. Shaw told him. When she walked in the door Tate had been relieved to see a woman. But she had barely introduced herself before she pulled out a stainless steel tray with vials and surgical utensils and, of course, several syringes. Her black hair was pulled back tight leaving only long bangs that overlapped heavy-framed glasses. She was younger than he expected, with smooth skin that hadn''t yet earned wrinkles at the corners of her mouth or eyes. And she was attractive, but instead of looking at her now, Tate let his eyes scan the room. He didn''t want to even see the needle, so he stared at the walls. It was a strange room, empty except for the examination table. The drywall looked spongy, like the foam mats you''d find at the basketball court tacked up under the basket for overenthusiastic athletes to bounce off of. Only these mats weren''t tacked onto the walls, they were the walls - whitewashed and seamless. The term "padded cell" came to mind. There wasn''t a single thing displayed. Didn''t medical exam rooms have diplomas or something on the walls? Not that it mattered. Tate''s chance of backing out had passed. He knew it as soon as he signed on page seven of that long-ass contract they''d handed him when he first arrived. He didn''t even know where this place was. It had been pouring sheets of rain the entire hour and a half from the airport. That was yesterday, or at least he thought it was. His wristwatch and cellphone were two of the personal items he had to surrender. Other than not knowing the time of day, he didn''t mind. But Tate didn''t understand why he couldn''t wear his own shoes or underwear. The blue scrubs were comfortable, but the paper booties drove him crazy. He felt like he was shuffling, the sound reminding him of the old people in the nursing home where his wife worked. "After I administer the drug I''ll ask you a series of questions," Dr. Shaw said. He glanced at her and held back a grimace. She was loading another syringe. Long, slender fingers with blood-red nail polish. A ring on her thumb - that was strange, but young women did that, right? The ring had tiny little diamonds dancing around the band. All Tate could think was that this served him right for not reading all seven pages. He''d only cared about the three thousand dollars he had been promised, and he had double checked that it was in the contract. He hated that his wife worked an extra shift once a week just to make ends meet. Their oldest daughter had started waiting tables at the coffee shop. Even Danny Junior had a paper route. But Tate hadn''t been able to get a job. Not true. He hadn''t been able to hold a job since he''d been back. The doctors called it post-traumatic stress disorder. But all Tate saw when he looked in the mirror was a perfectly healthy man. Never mind that his brain twisted pieces of information, and insomnia kept him pacing the streets of their small town. He needed to start contributing and helping to take care of his family. Even if it meant a few needle pokes. This time it didn''t matter where he looked. As soon as the metal slipped into his vein he felt the liquid rush into his body. A heat wave crawled up his arm, over his shoulder, and spread throughout his chest. It took his breath away, and he felt his body shudder. "You may experience a tightness in your chest," he heard Dr. Shaw say. Only now it sounded like she was talking to him from the next room. He turned his head to look at her and just that movement made him nauseated. He tried to find her eyes through the blur. The small rose tattoo he had noticed earlier on the side of her neck had grown legs and started to inch along her skin like an insect. Tate blinked hard, trying to focus. Sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip. "Nose bleeds are not uncommon," Dr. Shaw continued in her calm, cool manner. "I''m going to ask you some questions, Daniel." Tate, he wanted to tell her everyone called him Tate, but he couldn''t take his mind off the bug digging into her neck. His heart galloped in his chest and it was difficult to breathe. "Daniel, can you count backward from a hundred for me?" His mouth had a metallic taste and it took effort to make it move. Teeth and tongue seemed to be in the way of him activating his voice. "Daniel, can you count backward from a hundred?" she repeated. Suddenly he heard himself say, "That would be difficult to do because I don''t like rice." Even as he said it he knew it wasn''t the correct answer, but already he''d forgotten the question. Nothing mattered except the black insect on her neck. Why couldn''t she feel it digging under her skin? "Dr. Shaw." A voice called from the doorway. Tate''s entire body jerked before he saw the man. His head was shaved and gleamed almost as bright as his long white coat. Tate had to look away. The brightness hurt his eyes. Just as they were starting to focus, the light sent stars and sparks like electrical surges and he knew he couldn''t trust them. "I''m in the middle of a test," Dr. Shaw told the man. "It''s gotten worse." "Can you please wait a few minutes, Richard? I''ve just started." "For god''s sake, you didn''t give him the serum, did you? It takes seventy-two hours to leave the system. And we need to leave now." "Calm down, please." Tate couldn''t decide if she was talking to him or the man, because she was staring directly at him. "They''re talking about landslides. We really must evacuate." "I''ve lived through hurricanes, Richard. This is just a rain." But now she left Tate and joined the man at the door. Neither bothered to keep their voices down. In fact, they seemed to forget about Tate. They didn''t even notice that he was panting now and wiping erratically at his eyes, sweat pouring down his face. "The water is almost over the bridge." Richard sounded panicked. He was loud and gesturing. "If we don''t leave now, we risk being stranded here." Dr. Shaw was turned away from him and Tate could no longer see the insect on her neck. He began checking his own hands and arms. "We can''t just leave behind all of our research material. We''re safe here," Dr. Shaw was telling the man. "This place is built like a fortress." Tate tried to see if there were any bugs on the man. His eyes were finally settling down when he saw a flash of green and black fur behind the doctors. It looked like a small monkey running up the hallway. "Well, I''m leaving. With or without you." "That would be a mistake. Let''s talk about this." She glanced over her shoulder, and when she called out to Tate it sounded like a bellow echoing across the small room, "I''ll be right back, Daniel. Stay right here." She joined the man in the hallway and tried to close the door. When it didn''t seem to fit the frame, she opened it wide. "See, that''s not a good sign," Richard told her. "Doors and windows tend to stick right before. It''s bad, I''m telling you. We must leave." This time she pulled the door with such force it slammed. Tate sat listening to the thump-thump of his heart. It was beating inside his head, and he put his hands over his chest to make sure his heart hadn''t moved. He wasn''t sure how much time had passed since the doctors had left. It could have been minutes. It could have been an hour. Then a loud crack jolted him off the table. It sounded like an artillery shell. Was that possible? He crawled under the examination table, his body scrambling in twitches and jerks. He listened for more artillery shells. The room started to sway and tilt. Was it the drug? Had it screwed with his equilibrium? His ears popped, and instead of the thumping of his heart, he now heard only a rumble. He felt it, too. A vibration rattled the doctor''s instruments, shaking them off the tray. The floor tiles lifted and rolled beneath him, and Tate grabbed onto the examination table. That''s when he saw the whitewashed walls crack and buckle. They were actually caving in as if a bulldozer was on the other side shoving them in. Tate felt something coming down from the ceiling. He ducked his head back under the table. He watched, not sure whether to believe his eyes. It was raining dirt and gravel. He could smell the wet earth. The rumble grew to a roar. Forget the bulldozer, a freight train was headed down on top of him. He covered his head with his arms and curled into a tight ball. More crashes. Metal shrieked. Light fixtures exploded. In the darkness Daniel Tate couldn''t see. The floor became a rollercoaster. He clawed to hold onto the steel table as the world shattered and roared and collapsed on top of him. Chapter 2 Florida Panhandle Ryder Creed had been up for two hours by the time his hired man climbed out of the doublewide trailer. Truth was, Creed didn''t sleep much. He''d awakened in the dark and found himself down in the kennel curled up in the middle of his dogs, his head on the belly of his oldest, Rufus. The kennel was a contemporary warehouse. Creed had a loft apartment above it with all the luxuries and comforts of a retreat. When he designed the place he convinced his business partner, Hannah Washington, that he wanted his living quarters above the kennel so he could keep an eye and ear on the most prized possessions of their business, K9 CrimeScents.

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