Agents of Mercy Series Ebook Bundle (Prequel + Books 1-4)

USA Today bestselling authors Lisa Harris and Lynne Gentry deliver a riveting series of unforgettable and chilling medical thrillers.

“Move over, Robin Cook!”

Prefer a different format? Click here

ABOUT THIS FIVE BOOK E-BOOK BUNDLE: AGENTS OF MERCY

From the first line of GHOST HEART to the last line of DEATH TRIANGLE, this intense thriller series weaves a treacherous international medical web set in motion by one person’s desperate quest for immortality. The far-reaching consequences of that individual’s sinister actions will threaten the entire world. The final installment of the series, DEATH TRIANGLE, will tie together the whole chilling story and leave you speechless.

Exotic adventure. Murder. Transplant tourism. Pirating. Virus manipulation. Global panic.

The haunting stories are fiction. The hope is real.

GHOST HEART was a Carol-award winning finalist!                                                      PORT OF ORIGIN was a Christy-award finalist.
LETHAL OUTBREAK made the USA Today Bestseller list in the Dangerous Deceptions Box Set. 

***

MURDER ON FLIGHT 91 (Prequel)

A passenger collapses on an international flight, but is it a medical emergency, or attempted murder? 

When the US military can no longer ignore the conflict in the Sudan, Dr. Danielle Nanga and civil affairs specialist Liam DeMarcus are deployed to restore order to a refugee camp. Their flight is supposed to be the easy part of this mission. Turns out it’s where the war begins.

"Romance, murder, mystery, and an Icelandic Christmas all wrapped up in one page turning story."

Murder on Flight 91, is the prequel to the twice-award nominated Agents of Mercy Medical Thriller series.

GHOST HEART 

An unforgettable and chilling medical thriller about a mother willing to risk everything for her child, and a surgeon desperate to cover his crimes. 

A brutal murder convinces Dr. Mia Kendall there's more than she imagined to the mysterious spike in heart transplant rejections. Determined to find answers before she loses another patient, Mia gets sucked into a dangerous international medical web. With time running out for her youngest transplant recipient, Mia is forced to partner with a disillusioned ex-military pilot who flies brokered organs across East Africa. But searching for the truth will prove costly, because there are some lines that should never be crossed.

A haunting story that will take you from the suburbs of Cincinnati to the jungles of Africa.

A Carol-award winning finalist! 

 

PORT OF ORIGIN

A spellbinding medical thriller about a pirate hijacking of a humanitarian medical ship that separates a doctor from his young daughter.

★2021 Christy-award Finalist★

Hijacking oil tankers brings cash to Dabir Omar’s family, but it doesn’t buy the medical care needed to stop a deadly sickness attacking his people. When Dabir’s son becomes ill, the desperate pirate sets sail for the Liberty, an international humanitarian medial ship ported on the Cameroon coast.

Shortly after Dr. Josiah Allen arrives on the Liberty with his precocious six-year-old daughter, he is sent ashore to investigate a mysterious illness at the ship’s post-op clinic. While he’s gone, pirates hijack the medical ship where Josiah left his daughter.

When pirate negotiations fail, ex-military Mackenzie Scott’s extraction team comes in for the rescue. But when the pirates refuse to surrender, both fathers are forced to go to war to save their children. 

How far would you go to save your child?

 

LETHAL OUTBREAK

A gripping medical thriller ripped from today's headlines.

There are diseases hidden in the ice and they are waking up.

Virus hunter Aiden Ballinger believes the source of the lethal outbreak that decimated a remote Tibetan village came from disturbing the permafrost. Desperate to rebury it before it buries the world, Aiden enlists Rachel Allen, a beautiful epidemiologist. But while Aiden and Rachel pursue the cure—and their feelings for each other—someone is hunting them. Whoever wants them dead will not stop until they are silenced.

 

DEATH TRIANGLE

No one suspects that the deadly pharmaceutical and viral disasters ravaging the African continent have been the fallout from one person’s intent to acquire immortality.

Not until two pregnant teenagers escape their captors and stumble into an African refugee camp.

When one of the escapees suffers a strange and bloody death, Dr. Rachel Allen, an infectious disease specialist aboard a humanitarian medical ship ported on the Central African coast is summoned to the Congo. Despite the danger, Rachel answers the plea of the refugee camp’s only doctor and leaves her post. But by the time she discovers the ancient virus she believed securely held in an American vault has been weaponized, it is too late to call for help. If this new potential bioweapon is launched beyond the borders of Africa, it will destroy more than the world. It will destroy everything she believes to be true about the man she loved.

Buckle in. 

The stunning conclusion to the Agents of Mercy series is a heart-pounding ride that brings together the characters you’ve come to love from GHOST HEART, PORT OF ORIGIN, and LETHAL OUTBREAK.

You won’t believe who orchestrated every deadly move from the first page to the last. . .and all of it was done in the name of scientific progress. 

 

“The best fiction book I’ve read in a long time.”

“Spellbinding!”

“The writing duo of Lisa Harris and Lynne Gentry presents seamless, action-packed writing that will keep you turning the pages until the very end.”

“A romantic, medical Indiana Jones murder mystery!”

“It’s like Outbreak and Captain Phillips combined into one.”

“With its intricate plot, well-drawn characters, and powerful themes, it is a book that will keep readers on the edge of their seats until the very end. Highly recommended.”

“Never a dull minute.”

“Compelling, realistic, page turning thriller!!”

“The final book is beyond words!!”

“A ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ twist at the end! Never saw it coming.”

“Edge of your seat good!”

“I really hope these authors write more books as I don’t think I can go back to my ordinary books.”

 

This product is a premium EBOOK BUNDLE compatible with any modern digital app or device:

• Kindle or Kindle App for phones/tablets
• Apple Books
• Google Play Books
• Nook
• Koko
• Native e-readers on Apple and Android products
• Microsoft Surface and Tablets of all kinds
• iPads, iPods, iPhones
• Android phones and devices

Prefer a different format? Click here

HOW DOES IT WORK?

1. Purchase AUTHOR-DIRECT and $ave!
2. Follow the download link on the order confirmation (links also sent by email)
3. ENJOY!

 

ENJOY A SAMPLE FROM THE PROLOGUE OF THE SERIES:

DULLES AIRPORT

Danielle Nanga’s heavy medical bag slipped from her shoulder, striking the arm of a well-dressed man already seated in the comfortable business-class section of the 787. “Excuse me, sir.”

“No harm done.” The man’s gaze quickly moved to the military backpack strapped to her back. “Need help, Officer?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Danielle hurried to the bulkhead of the coach section, quickly stowed her gear above her assigned seat, then settled in for the first leg of her long journey to Germany, and then. . .home.

Returning to one of the poorest countries in the world, Danielle hoped to find healing. For her people. And for herself.

But the Sudanese desert was a harsh, unforgiving place. As unforgiving as her father had been when she’d told him she was staying in the US military. Her father, a doctor himself, had sacrificed much so that she could do her surgical training in the States. But he’d done it with the stipulation that she would bring her skills back to Africa. Whether her father would welcome her intrusion on his patch of medical turf was not up to her. It was not even up to him. His clinic, located in the overcrowded, understaffed United Nations-sponsored camp, was on the razor’s edge of an escalating conflict.

The US had been involved with foreign aid to Sudan for many years. Recent attacks along the border had prompted the top military brass to reevaluate their key objectives. The goals, as Danielle understood them, were to put a definitive end to the conflict, address gross human rights abuses, and stop the genocide in Darfur. What no one was saying, at least not in the official press releases, was that the Sudan had become a nest for international terrorists. Fledgling subversives were intentionally stirring things up to distract the press while they secretly built a force capable of inflicting as much damage on the world as the tragedy on 9-11. This increased threat level had created an urgency to locate and destroy the nest before the terrorist movement gained wings.

When an increased medical military presence was requested to support possible military action in Sudan, she’d made sure her name was on that list. 

She’d liked to believe she’d been chosen for her top-flight field surgeon skills, but she suspected her familiarity with the language and the people in the region were the deciding factors that had sent her hurtling toward the hope she could smooth things over with her family.   

“Major.” The civilian-dressed soldier assigned to accompany her on this mission stood at her row checking his seat assignment on his phone. “Looks like we’re going to have time to get to know each other after all.” He nodded at the empty window seat.

Second Lieutenant Liam DeMarcus, US Army Civil Affairs Specialist, had introduced himself three hours earlier when their military escort picked them up from a budget Washington, DC hotel.

So far, she’d managed to avoid his offers of coffee, dinner, and small talk. “I always book the aisle seat, Lieutenant.”

“Window’s fine,” he said, not the least bit flustered by the impatient passenger backup behind his broad shoulders. “I like a view.”

Danielle snapped on her seat belt. “It’ll be nothing but ocean for hours.”

He smiled. “Guess that’ll give us plenty of time to fill in the details the government redacted from our dossiers.” For a guy who was supposed to be one of the military’s best at public relations, he had a lot to learn about negotiating with women.

“I’m a field surgeon.” She looked up and caught his gaze. “If you sustain a wound, I’ll make sure you’re stitched up and see that you’re sent safely back to Fort Bragg.” She’d learned the hard way of the necessity to stay wary of interested men. “That’s all you need to know about me.”

He swung his overloaded pack from his back, then shoved it into the overhead compartment next to hers. “You forgot to mention your outstanding bedside manner.” He dropped his six-foot frame into his seat, then smiled at her. “It’s eight hours to Germany. Another eight to Nairobi. I’ve won over many hostile heads of state in less time.”  

If she had any interest in closing the lonely relationship gap caused by years of med school and residency followed by a general residency trauma fellowship, this tall, striking, self-assured man would be an enticing placeholder. But she would not allow any man to interfere with her goal. She was going to Africa to make a difference, and in the process, show her father that her decision to remain in the US military had been the right one.

“I plan on sleeping,” Danielle said. “So should you. Sudan eats people like you for lunch.”

He cocked his head. “People like me?”

“Surviving a medical crisis in the stifling heat of a war zone is going to take everything we have.”

“And how would a field surgeon with no combat experience know this?”

“If you’re trying to impress me with your research into my past, you lose. I grew up there.”

A smile lifted a corner of his lips. “Diplomacy is a lot like getting a job.” He reached into his smaller carryon bag and pulled out a small bag of peanuts. “It’s not what you know, but who.” He ripped the corner of the bag and poured some nuts into his hand. “And now I know you. You are the woman with the keys to help me unlock a whole new world.”

“You don’t know me.”

He shrugged. “Maybe there’s a few blanks that need to be filled in.” He offered her the open bag of nuts. “But using diplomacy to gather information is my job, and I’m very good at making unfriendlies into lifelong friends.” He raised his brows hopefully and shook the peanut bag in her direction. “They’re honey roasted.”

He had an unsettling charm. No question about it. But she was not the enemy, and it would serve her well to accept that neither was he. If things were as precarious in the refugee camp as their mission commander had laid out in their briefing, she and Liam would need each other’s support. But war could quickly turn a friendship into something deeper, and she could not allow a romantic distraction, especially if he got hurt and she couldn’t save him. That would not only distract her; it would surely sink her.

But getting off on the wrong foot would not serve their mission, and this mission must go well if she had any hope of impressing her father.

She granted her teammate a brief smile and decided to toss in a bit of humor as a sign that she wasn’t as stone-cold as she may seem. “As a rule, I stay away from nuts.”

A pleased grin lit his tanned face. “See, you’re already loosening up, giving me insight into your life values, and we haven’t even left the gate. By the time we land in Africa, we’ll be BFFs.” He lifted the bag and shook peanuts into his mouth.

“We’ll be teammates.” She retrieved her earbuds from her pocket. “Duty bound to have each other’s backs.”

If he was as well-trained in the art of communication as claimed on the dossier she’d studied about him, he would interpret her earbuds as a clear signal that this conversation was over. She intended to tune out her new teammate’s allure and catch up on much-needed sleep.

Right before Danielle stuffed the buds in her ears, a hacking cough drew her attention to the business-class section in front of her.

An anxious flight attendant, concern or impatience scrunching her brow, held out a pillow and blanket to a thin woman standing in the aisle and coughing into the elbow of her powder-blue jogging suit. When the passenger finally stopped coughing and lifted her head, Danielle noticed that she wore an oxygen canula in her nose. Clear plastic tubing stretched across her sallow, puffy face. The tubing ran down her sunken chest and connected to a portable oxygen concentrator tucked inside the slim black bag that hung from her shoulder. The woman, far more feeble than her middle-age appearance, stood frozen in the aisle, her breathing labored as if she’d had to run the length of the airport to board the plane. She didn’t seem to have the strength needed to ease herself into the empty seat. Her thin fingers clutched the back of an occupied seat, her other hand wrapped around the strap of her breathing machine. Both of her wrists were braced with carpal tunnel gloves.

Carpal tunnel in one wrist could be the result of too much time on the computer. Carpal tunnel in both wrists, coupled with the woman’s sickly appearance and persistent cough, pushed Danielle to revisit her mental catalog of unusual diseases. Cardiothoracic surgery had been her top interest, but when it came time to choose her specialty, her desire to be on the field and in the thick of the action trumped being tied to the premier Army hospital in San Antonio. She didn’t regret her trauma surgery choice. However, she hadn’t completely given up her interest in the core of the human body. She told herself accumulating cardiothoracic knowledge just might save somebody on the field someday.

Danielle sat back, closed her eyes, and mentally sorted what she knew about the heart. She came to an abrupt halt at cardiac amyloidosis. Stiff heart syndrome. A rare cardiomyopathy notorious for killing its victims before they could receive a new heart. Her eyes sprang open. She sat forward for a better look at the woman struggling to breathe. This woman was in end-stage heart failure.

The doctor who’d signed the long-haul medical permission for a patient so near death should lose his license.

Even first-year med students knew altitude was hard on failing hearts. Few airlines liked to assume the risk.

Danielle mentally ran through the list of possible inflight complications this woman might face. Tissue hypoxia. Sympathetic stimulation. Increased myocardial demand. Paradoxical vasoconstriction. Alterations in hemodynamics.

While she wasn’t sure of the woman’s final destination, enduring the dangers of altitude from DC to Germany could shorten the few precious days she had left.

Worst-case scenarios iced Danielle’s veins. She shifted in her seat and craned her neck to see if the woman was traveling alone.

To Danielle’s relief, a woman wearing scrubs and the steely-look of a charge nurse reached around her shaky patient who was still trying to catch a good breath.

The woman took the pillow and blanket from the flight attendant. “In you go, Mrs. Ballinger.”

While the nurse quietly cajoled her patient into her seat, her gaze perused the plane. Slow and careful, as if mentally noting the location of every exit door. Her gaze slid past the open curtain between business class and coach and collided squarely with the disapproval on Danielle’s face. The nurse lifted her chin slightly and gave Danielle a self-assured glare that indicated she had everything well in hand and that the nosy stranger in coach should mind her own business.

Danielle softened her gaze with what she hoped communicated sympathy for the hard task this medical professional had taken on. Travel nurses were usually paid exceptionally well, but there wasn’t enough money in the world that would have convinced Danielle to take on the job of delivering this very ill woman to her destination.

Danielle watched as the nurse carefully arranged Mrs. Ballinger’s pillow and tucked the blanket carefully around her. Before seating herself, she dug in her own huge pack and retrieved a water bottle. She offered it to Mrs. Ballinger, even leaning forward to help steady the woman’s attempt to get a drink, but they were not successful.

Patient observation wasn’t enough for a definitive diagnosis, Danielle reminded herself. She’d jumped to conclusions about this patient without the benefit of the numbers from a battery of tests. Danielle pulled out her phone and quickly googled cardiac amyloidosis. Everything she’d remembered about the rare condition was confirmed on her little screen. But despite the chill that ran up her spine, the medical situation in business class was not her concern. Danielle turned off her phone and slid it back into her pocket. She would have multiple opportunities to quickly diagnose and act once she and her overly charming lieutenant had things up and running in Sudan.

She was pondering her exhausting desire to save the world when laughter coming from business class caught her attention. The tall, sandy-haired captain Zillinger, she seemed to remember noting on his badge when she boarded the plane—was hugging a man with a duffel bag, buzz-cut, and the no-nonsense bearing of a military officer. From the backslaps, they had history. Probably military, from the way they mock saluted each other. Snatches of their loud, boisterous conversation drifted back to Danielle. Both had flown F15s. The captain wished he could upgrade his old pal’s seat, but they were full.

The guy carrying the duffel bag put a hand on the captain’s shoulder. “No worries. Hung up my wings. Gotta get used to civilian life.”

He said something else, something she couldn’t make out. Whatever the ex-pilot had shared, it had put a serious expression on the faces of both men. Then the captain asked his friend about his plans.

Danielle heard him answer, “Prop plane. Africa.”

Africa? What were the odds? Had her commander sent this guy to keep an eye on her too? The ex-pilot claimed to be a civilian. He was dressed as a civilian. But was he really a civilian? His evasive answers to the captain reeked of military undercover. If her commander believed she needed more help to bring the field hospital up to speed than the smooth-talking Liam DeMarcus could provide, why had he sent a fighter pilot? Granted, some things were beyond her rank. And having an ex-fighter pilot on his way to Africa on this particular plane could be nothing more than a coincidence.

She glanced at Lieutenant DeMarcus happily munching peanuts. Cool and quick-witted as he appeared, could she really count on him if they ran into serious trouble? Her gaze darted back to the muscular man talking to the captain. It would be nice to have someone who could handle himself in a fight or fly them to safety if things went south.

Danielle gave herself a mental kick. Old habits were hard to break, even after all the time she’d spent studying the Bible. She’d learned enough about herself to know her constant need to plan ahead was the result of growing up in conditions beyond her control. She’d learned enough about God to know He was the one in control. She took a deep breath. She was safe. The flight would give her an opportunity to rest. And no one could ever be fully prepared for life in Sudan. 

A flight attendant interrupted the conversation between the captain and the man with the duffel. The two men gave each other a little salute. The ex-pilot strode down the aisle toward her. Once clear of business class, he slowed to read the seat numbers. When he was even with Danielle, the strap on his duffel broke. His heavy bag came around and slammed into Danielle’s shoulder.

“Sorry.” The man’s face flushed red as he hurried to get his gear under control. “You hurt, ma’am?”

Danielle remembered the grace the businessman had extended her for nearly the same infraction. She massaged the place on her arm that would surely sport a bruise by the time they landed, but she managed a smile. “My volleyball serve may be off for a few days, but I’m good.” 

“I’m really sorry, ma’am.” He looked around. “Can I track down a flight attendant and get you an ice pack?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Liam said.

The ex-pilot eyed Liam. “And you are?”

“Her partner,” Liam said.

Danielle flashed a palm at both men. “He’s my lieutenant.”

“Have a nice flight, officers.” The ex-pilot tipped his faded baseball cap, then headed toward his seat.

She retrieved an eye mask as the captain started his opening speech to the passengers. “Good evening, folks. This is Captain Jeff Zillinger, and I, along with the other two pilots, Brent Johnson and Jarrod Frantz, will be flying you to Frankfurt on one of Boeing’s newest airliners, the 787 Dreamliner. Total flying time should be around seven hours and thirty-eight minutes, which puts our arrival into Frankfurt at about 9:38 in the morning, Frankfurt time.” The captain continued, “If you’ve traveled with us before, you might notice the flight time is longer than usual. Tonight’s route will be taking us a bit farther north. We’ll fly over the southern coasts of Greenland and Iceland before making our arrival into European airspace over northern Scotland. Then on through the Netherlands and into German airspace before ending up in Frankfurt. I’ve conferred with our company’s weather forecasters and flight dispatchers, and we’ve decided to take this northern route to avoid some weather activity developing in the mid-northern Atlantic latitudes. That weather should be far to our south during the flight. Due to the late hour and the long flight, I won’t be making any further announcements so as not to interrupt the passengers who want to relax or sleep during the flight. Please feel free to follow our route of flight via our moving-map display on the Inflight Entertainment System.”

If Danielle wanted her father to see the sharp, competent doctor she’d become, rest was her best course of action. She slid her eye mask into place and let her head fall against her seat. She felt the plane back from the gate, then taxi to the runway. Once her flight lifted into the air, she withdrew her phone and flicked on the soothing playlist she’d downloaded. Within minutes, sleep carried her to the familiar dream. Her father was running to her. She was running to him. Reconciliation wrapping her in his warm embrace.

“Are there any medical personnel aboard?” The urgency of the flight attendant’s intercom announcement pierced the soft lull of water trickling over rocks that played in Danielle’s ear. “We need any trained medical personnel to ring your call button.”

“Major Nanga.” Liam punched the call button then shook her shoulder.

“What?” Danielle ripped the mask from her face and the earbuds from her ears. Feeling a little disoriented, she asked, “How long have we been in the air?”

“A few hours. You missed dinner.” From the serious look on Liam’s face, this was no false alarm. “STAT, Doc.” He held out his hand, indicating she should let him have her earbuds.

“Who?” she asked as she dropped the mask and the buds into his palm.

He shook his head. “Someone in business class has probably had too much to drink.”

“Maybe.”

Danielle unbuckled her seat belt as a flight attendant appeared to escort her to the situation. Something told her that it was the woman in the blue jogging suit. If she was in heart failure, there would be little she could do to keep her alive. “Grab my medical bag from the overhead bin and come with me.”