Author Description

Natalie Richards (27) knows how to make a video go viral. It's her job, after all. But when she's fired over her latest video 0́4 an ad for dish soap, of all things 0́4 she complains. Loudly. In public. It's not her fault that those words were written down decades earlier. Within minutes she's abducted, whisked underground, and proclaimed to be a long-lost prophet destined to save the world.The threats against world peace are real. But then again, so is the need to breathe fresh air and have a decent haircut. Not to mention the two deliciously handsome men that seem to have secrets of their own. A cult is a cult, no matter how sexy the head of security might be... right?Read an excerpt:I'd been holding my breath for a long time. I know how these things go. Okay, in retrospect, I realize that all of this knowledge has been gleaned from spy novels and CSI shows. But still, knowledge is knowledge. A girl gets abducted. Put in a car. Then there's a damp rag held over her mouth. She slumps and wakes up in the trunk. Or she doesn't wake up at all. I put that thought quickly out of my mind and pressed my lips firmly together. When the rag came, I would pretend to faint, and then when the car stopped, I'd make a run for it. It was a decent plan, considering the circumstances."We haven't used the chloroform rag since child locks were invented," said the neckless hulk of a man squashed in on my left. "You can breathe normally." His partner snorted, but regained his composure quickly.I let out my breath as nonchalantly as I could and devoted my time instead to memorizing our route. We were rolling through Manhattan behind tinted windows. I needed a Plan B. I dismissed the thought of trying to get help 0́4 the windows were too dark for anyone to see inside, and I doubted trying to wrench a door open would work. So I stared intently out the window, trying to commit everything to memory. After several turns I was hopelessly lost. I've lived here for two years, but I've spent the