Illegal
by K.J. Gillenwater
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Alone, desperate, and beautiful. When bullets fly, she must rely on a handsome stranger or face death. Together, they will risk it all for love.
Her whole life was a lie…
After discovering she was brought to the United States illegally as a young child, Selena Hernandez decides to do the responsible thing and return to Mexico, her country of origin. Selena vows to become a legal immigrant.
When she asks for help with a visa at the US Embassy, she meets attractive Wyatt Demko, a helpful embassy employee. But they are surprised to discover shocking details about her past and connections to a notorious drug cartel.
Wyatt escaped a painful upbringing in a Wisconsin trailer park for a stable career with the State Department. A chance meeting with Selena reveals an instinctual desire to help. But falling for a beautiful girl with dangerous enemies on her trail complicates his meticulous plans.
Wyatt knows he can't afford to trust Selena. Still, he'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and win her heart before time runs out.
But Wyatt and Selena only have a few days to accomplish the impossible: hide from the brutal drug cartels and corrupt law enforcement to make a daring getaway that will take them from the streets of Mexico City to the sandy beaches of the Yucatan Peninsula.
Excerpt #1
Selena wiped the tears from her face, slid the lock open, bolted past the girl who wanted to use the restroom, and ran right into the hard chest of Wyatt.
He grabbed her wrists. “Hey, don’t run off like that again, you hear me?” Wyatt’s eyebrows drew together. “You got me into this mess, and I’m not letting you out of my sight again until we figure out what’s going on. Not sure about you, but I really don’t want to end up dead in an alley somewhere.”
Selena’s heart raced. The panic she’d felt on the street when she’d seen the man with the gun returned full force. Her mind blanked. She’d hit a wall. No idea what to do. Where to go. Who to trust.
Wyatt must have recognized the fear, the panic. His gaze softened. He pulled her close and kissed her. A tender, sweet kiss that took over her mind and blanked out all other thoughts.
She slid her hands up his chest and leaned into his solid warmth. A few minutes ago, she’d wanted to punch him. Strange how a kiss could change everything.
They broke apart. People swirled around them. Selena couldn’t read the look in Wyatt’s eyes.
“Where are you staying again?” he asked.
“Th-the Motel Real del Sur. On Simon Bolivar.” She wanted more from him than a kiss. Maybe he did, too. Her body flushed with warmth.
“Okay. That’s not far.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go back to your place, figure this out.”
Selena’s heart dropped a little. Although a clear attraction existed between the two of them, Wyatt’s thoughts didn’t go beyond the kiss. She tried to hide her disappointment. She was grateful he wanted to help her make a clear plan. Fear had impacted her higher thinking processes. She didn’t see herself as the kind of person who froze when in an extreme circumstance, but she’d never had her life threatened before by a gun-wielding lunatic. “Yes.”
She let Wyatt take her by the hand and lead her to an exit at the back of the club. It opened into a filthy alley full of trash and smelling of urine. The music pounded behind them. The door shut automatically, and the noise disappeared. Selena stood in the alley with only the traffic noise. Her ears rang.
The sound of a lighter snapping caught their attention. Two people hovered in the dark of the alley. Someone lit a cigarette. The glow lit up the face of a pock-marked young man and his date, a thin woman in a skintight gold jumpsuit. Both paused and faced them. Hard stares.
Selena’s leg muscles tightened. She was ready to run.
Wyatt grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her toward the street. He hailed a cab, and a beat-up Ford Focus pulled up to the curb. She climbed in, and Wyatt slid in next to her, his thigh hot against hers.
The couple from the alley stepped out of the dark. The woman in the jumpsuit took a long drag on her cigarette. The man put his hands in his pockets and scanned their taxi.
Selena’s heartbeat raced.
Wyatt gave the driver the address for a restaurant several blocks away from her motel. Before she could open her mouth to correct him, Wyatt squeezed her hand. She slid a glance at him. He gave her hard stare.
Trust me, he seemed to be saying.
She closed her mouth.
Clearly, Wyatt didn’t even trust the cab drivers. In a city as big as Mexico City, you’d think there’d be plenty of anonymity, but Selena was beginning to realize that the bad guys had eyes and ears everywhere.
As they drove away from the strange couple outside the club, Selena’s fears diminished. She touched her lips, Wyatt’s kiss still wet on her mouth.
Excerpt #2
“What was that back there?” Wyatt gave Selena a quizzical look.
They followed the signs to the correct gate to wait for boarding.
Selena tilted her head and pursed her lips. “What do you mean?”
He pulled her aside to let other passengers bypass them. “That ridiculous story you told those people,” he said in a harsh whisper.
“Melanie and James?” Selena took a step back. She didn’t understand why he sounded so pissed off.
“Yes, Melanie and James,” he snapped. “We didn’t talk about any of that.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Selena made a face. This dude was uptight. Hard to believe after what had happened in her motel room. “I didn’t know we needed to.” She shrugged off his criticism and continued toward the gate at a faster clip than normal.
“Of course we needed to.” He trotted to keep pace with her. “If we were going to tell people some story, don’t you think you should’ve consulted me first?”
“Chill out.” Selena planted her feet and faced him. Travelers dodged the two of them as they now blocked the flow of traffic. “I mean, really, it’s just a little lie. They aren’t going to interrogate us about it. In fact, we are probably never going to see them again.” She was beginning to get a glimpse of the deeper person inside the handsome figure—rigid and cold. Not the man she thought she’d just slept with. He’d been passionate and, well, pretty hot. Where had that Wyatt gone?
He frowned. “Next time we discuss it.”
“Don’t worry,” Selena said under her breath. “There won’t be a next time.” She thought ahead to Puebla. A couple of hours away. Maybe at that point, she’d cut him loose. Fade into the crowd and buy her own damned ticket.
They both silently approached the gate, the heat of their argument palpable in the air.
“Hey, guys,” a chipper voice called out. “We’re on the same bus!” Melanie strode up to them, flapping a paper ticket.
“I thought you were going to Cancún?” Wyatt asked in a monotone.
The woman’s round face shone with sweat. “We almost thought we weren’t going to make it.”
James joined his wife. “We didn’t want to be stuck in the city for another night. No buses to Cancún until tomorrow morning. Puebla should have a connection.”
A pit grew in Selena’s stomach. She scanned her brain for the details she’d spat out at the ticketing area.
Melanie gushed, “Tell me more about the two of you. Dating long?”
Wyatt’s lips curled into a sardonic smile.
Selena gritted her teeth.
“Ahora embarcando: autobús a Puebla,” said a voice over the loudspeaker. “Ahora embarcando.”
“Oh, time to board,” said Melanie.
Wyatt leaned in. “Lucky for you.”
Selena forced a smile. “Where are you sitting?”
James scanned his ticket. “Row six.”
“Oh, too bad.” Selena let out a deliberate exhale. “We’re in row fifteen.”
“Yes,” said Wyatt. “That’s too bad.”
Selena wanted to sock him in the arm. Once they arrived in Puebla, she needed to ditch Wyatt, buy her own ticket, and solve her problem. She didn’t need his help or his judgment.
Excerpt #3
“Documentos, por favor,” a loud voice demanded from the front of the bus. “Passaportes, documentos.”
A man in a dark green uniform that appeared to be the police stood next to the bus driver.
The passengers grew silent. Chattering, excited voices were replaced with a serious quiet that unnerved her.
People in the front rows handed the man their papers. As he reviewed them, he looked up every now and then searching faces on the bus.
Selena’s gut clenched.
She dug through her bag to find her Arizona driver’s license. The couple across the aisle from her were young, indio, and serious. They held IDs ready to comply.
The officer stepped closer. He scanned each item the passengers submitted.
Selena wished her new friends, the Brewsters, were on board. They could’ve helped her navigate the situation. She glanced out the window one more time. Her stomach full of acid.
Wyatt, where are you?
At the very last minute, she changed her mind. She dug in her bag for her birth certificate. That should work, right? A Mexican citizen riding the bus. No crime there.
The officer leaned over her. His shadow made her shiver. “Documentos, señorita.” He held out a hand. His thick mustache twitched.
She froze. The woman back at the embassy—Antonia—she’d recognized the Rios name on her birth certificate. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Wyatt had said the police were dirty—controlled by the cartels and bribes.
“Señorita?”
She pulled out what remained of her cash. A few twenties. American. They liked American dollars, right? She’d never bribed anyone before, she didn’t know the procedure. Shoving the wad into the officer’s thick-fingered hand, she begged, “Por favor.” She had no words in her head—in English or in Spanish—to get across her desperation, her willingness for him to do almost anything to skip her over, let her go, ignore her.
The officer slapped her hand and tore into her with a flood of Spanish.
Her insides grew cold.
She’d made a terrible mistake. “I’m sorry. Here. Here.” She handed him her driver’s license. What an idiot. What a fool. She’d come to this country so damned naive about everything.
Memories flooded back. An experience she’d spent her youth tamping down, forgetting about, leaving as far behind as she could. The day all the kids laughed at her and called her stupid because her English had been poor in kindergarten. Spanish she no longer remembered. She’d felt the humiliation of being different, which had made her feel inferior.
And here she was again in a similar situation she where knew no one and didn’t speak the language. An authority figure loomed over her, demanding she comply. He let go a stream of Spanish words she couldn’t understand.
Where was Wyatt?
Panic spread like wildfire throughout her body. She willed Wyatt to appear from behind the bushes. He’d fix this. He’d straighten it all out.
The couple across from her interceded, realizing her predicament. “Americana?” the woman, dark eyes wide, asked.
“Sí!” Selena said.
Okay. She’d be okay. This woman would help her. Everything would be fine.
The woman spoke in rapid Spanish to the officer, who held onto both seat backs, allowing no one to pass.
The uniformed man listened, raised an eyebrow, and a slow smile came across his face. He took Selena’s driver’s license, scanned the info on it, studied her, and handed it back.
“Gracias, señorita.” Instead of continuing down the aisle, the officer turned on his heel and headed to the front.
Selena let air out of her lungs. Her limbs trembled. She tucked her driver’s license into her bag. Her hands shook. She leaned back in her seat and then twisted her hair into a knot on her head. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck. Wyatt would be back any minute, and she could eat something. That would help.
The officer in green leaned in close and spoke to the driver. The driver looked over his shoulder, met Selena’s gaze, and quickly glanced away. The officer handed him a roll of bills. The driver swept it into his jacket pocket.
When the officer stepped off of the bus, the driver closed the door with a rapid hiss.
Selena cringed.
The bus driver, sans his driving partner, pulled away from the curb and sped up to get back on the highway. A rumble of displeasure ran through the passengers. Most were on board, but not all. A few were still in line at the food stands.
Wyatt, Selena thought. What about Wyatt?
She stood. She wanted to scream at the bus driver to stop. What was going on? Why were they leaving?
The woman across the aisle grabbed her arm. “Siéntese. Siéntese. Los carteles.” Then, she shook her head, a grave look on her face.
Los carteles.
Selena swept her gaze across the passengers who rode with her, hoping for someone to be her champion. To stop the bus. Let her off. Let her get away.
The bus fell silent. Once friendly faces turned to stone.
She’d been handed over to the cartel right under Wyatt’s nose, and no one could help her.
How long have you been writing?
I have been writing for almost 20 years now. Since my children were very little. I’ve always wanted to be an author, but didn’t think I had a full-length book in me. When NaNoWriMo was barely anything, I read about it in the newspaper of all things, and I thought I’d give it a try. I had never written a full book, only short stories, and wanted to give it a go. I had no plot in mind, I just sat down at my computer and made myself write whatever I wanted to.
I ended up with almost 40,000 crappy words written that November, which turned into a book I finished. But it will stay on my hard drive never to see the light of day. Really, that’s the best place for it. Trust me!
From there, I followed my muse and eventually ended up with a publishing contract with Samhain Publishing for my paranormal suspense book, The Ninth Curse.
I took a break from writing for about eight years after a divorce to focus on my children as a single mother. But dove back into writing a few years ago with a passion and haven’t looked back since.
Describe your writing style.
I have been told my many an editor that I have ‘choppy’ style. I am not the kind of writer who writes long, gorgeous descriptive sentences. I think that is because I love writing action and suspense. And things happen quickly in those genres, so you don’t want to slow down the action with lots of words.
Editors will usually combine my sentences into one connected piece, which I typically accept. But this is how the story comes out of my head and onto paper, so it can feel a bit strange to smooth things out for the reader.
If I can keep a bit of the choppy, I will do it! LOL.
I also have a great fear of writing something ‘corny.’ Not sure how people decide if something is corny or not. I want realistic dialogue and realistic thinking and decision-making. Maybe I’m not successful to some readers, but I want them to know it is important to me to be as real as I can when I’m writing my scenes and characters.
K. J. Gillenwater has a B.A. in English and Spanish from Valparaiso University and an M.A. in Latin American Studies from University of California, Santa Barbara. She worked as a Russian linguist in the U.S. Navy, spending time at the National Security Agency doing secret things. After six years of service, she ended up as a technical writer in the software industry.
She has lived all over the U.S. and currently resides in Wyoming with her family where she runs her own business writing government proposals and squeezes in fiction writing when she can.
In the winter she likes to ski and snowshoe; in the summer she likes to garden with her husband, take walks with her dogs, and take trips into the Big Horn Mountains nearby. She has written multiple books, including several short story collections.
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#illegal #romanticsuspense #kjgillenwater
Thank you for sharing the author guest post and book details, this sounds like a thrilling read
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