Three strangers with an unlikely connection find themselves pawns in a dangerous struggle for power.
After serving Washington’s political elite as a high-class escort for seven years, Kendall Daley is ready to move on. But on the eve of her final assignment she meets Kane Clarke — a Navy SEALs Lieutenant on enforced leave. What Kendall doesn't know is that Kane is in town to repair his relationship with his estranged brother... someone she knows all too well.
Soon after that fateful night, Senator James Clarke is kidnapped and Kendall finds herself the target of hired assassins. Deep and personal secrets are exposed as Kane rushes to her aid. Embroiled in a dangerous game, the pair must work to unravel a tangled web of deception and save the Senator before time runs out.
A fast-paced thriller full of mystery and romance, Misguided Target is an explosive debut from Jessica Page.
Steady sales
Not in my wildest dreams could I have predicted this is where my life would be today. Most people don't wake up one morning and say, “I want to be an escort,” but that's exactly what I did. Don't get me wrong, it's not exactly a dream job, but working at some box store for minimum wage wouldn't be either. That's likely what would have happened, if I'd stayed in the small town where I grew up in Minnesota. I'd probably still be living in some rundown house, married to a man I hated, with at least two kids by now. That might work for some people, but not me. It may be harshly stereotypical for a girl raised by an alcoholic mother with an absentee, jailbird father, but it doesn't change the fact that it's the sad reality for many others like me. That's the life I was born into – it would likely have been the life I died in – if I hadn't made the choice to do something about it. I would say that things are better now, but life has quite the sense of humor, and it took me becoming an escort to have the chance at this better existence. That's not exactly something you'd print on a high school guidance brochure. But when opportunity knocked on my door I took it – right or wrong – and I've never looked back.
It all started about seven years ago, just after my high school graduation. I was eighteen and I'd finally had enough of my mom's creep, loser boyfriend venturing into my room late at night. Most of the time, he just stood in the doorway, staring at me creepily as he mumbled things about how 'tight my body was' and wondering 'what I tasted like', but that night was different. I remember being woken up to the sound of the cheap floors creaking beneath his weight as he approached my bed. I felt suddenly sickened by the overpowering smell of tobacco on his clothes and his breath as he leaned in to smell my hair.