Cover

About this book

“What You See is the third AMAZINGLY THRILLING book in Cherise Sinclair's Sons Of The Survivalist series and is Bull's story. And what a fantastic, compelling, and soul melting romance it was too!” ~ Marie’s Tempting Reads

She will risk everything to rescue her friend.

Frankie’s BFF and four-year-old son are trapped inside a fanatical militia’s compound. In Alaska, no less. Wilderness rescues are so not in the New Yorker’s skill set. But she’ll figure it out. She must.

Bull’s new roadhouse server is a mass of contradictions.

The city girl’s reasons for being in Alaska don’t add up. Bull’s been burned by liars before. So, why is he falling for this crap again? Maybe it’s her big brown eyes, exuberant personality—or her generous, compassionate heart. Whatever the reason is, he cares. If she’s in trouble, he’ll do his damnedest to get her out.

The huge Alaskan is terrifyingly compelling--and heartwarmingly concerned for her.

But Frankie refuses to involve Bull in the deadly mess. Her plan to rescue her bestie will work without anyone getting hurt. As she tries her best not to fall in love, she doggedly acquires each skill she’ll need.

Getting shot, though…that hadn’t been on her to-do list.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Fiona Archer and Monette Michaels for critting Bull’s story. When you both yell at me for the same problem, I know I’d better fix it.

To my beloved Alaska authorities, JJ Foster and Kathleen Cole: You are so good at keeping me from making any horrible cheechako goofs. (Any errors that slipped in are my very own).

Daniela Gardini, thank you so much for helping with the Italian. You rock, girl! (Any errors are because the author is stubborn).

Many hugs to my wonderful beta readers, Marian Shulman, Lisa White, and Barb Jack.

So much appreciation goes to my Red Quill editors—Ekatarina Sayanova, Rebecca Cartee, and Tracy Damron-Roelle. Because of your hard work and superb skills, Bull’s story will be released before winter…and will be readable. Thank you!

It’s been a rough fall for my team—loss of furbabies, bronchitis, infections, even cancer—and I can’t believe how you each insisted I send the manuscript anyway. Because you wanted to help.

I love you all.

Prologue

The sweet smell of pineapple, coconut, and hot oil jerked nine-year-old Kana Peleki to a stop in front of the small, brick-fronted restaurant. “Dad?”

A woman bumped into him from behind, then stepped around him with an annoyed sigh.

He didn’t apologize. All he could see was the restaurant. All he could hear was an echo of a deep voice, “My little sous chef. Look, hold the knife this way...”