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    Emily's Wedding: The Night Stalkers Wedding Stories, #1
    Emily's Wedding: The Night Stalkers Wedding Stories, #1
    Emily's Wedding: The Night Stalkers Wedding Stories, #1
    Ebook67 pages42 minutes

    Emily's Wedding: The Night Stalkers Wedding Stories, #1

    By M. L. Buchman

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    About this ebook

    -a Night Stalkers Wedding story-

    Shortly after Night Stalkers #1, The Night Is Mine…

     Major Emily Beale of the US Army’s Night Stalkers helicopter regiment found true love and the wedding looms imminent. But an emotional firestorm aims her toward a hard landing.

     Major Mark Henderson knows she’s the woman of his dreams, but he never considered that an aerial battle in the Hindu Kush ranked as a lower hazard mission than reaching the altar intact.

     When her long-time friend the President decides to help, none of them may survive Emily’s Wedding.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBuchman Bookworks, Inc.
    Release dateSep 12, 2017
    ISBN9781386447306
    Emily's Wedding: The Night Stalkers Wedding Stories, #1
    Author

    M. L. Buchman

    USA Today and Amazon #1 Bestseller M. L. "Matt" Buchman has 70+ action-adventure thriller and military romance novels, 100 short stories, and lotsa audiobooks. PW says: “Tom Clancy fans open to a strong female lead will clamor for more.” Booklist declared: “3X Top 10 of the Year.” A project manager with a geophysics degree, he’s designed and built houses, flown and jumped out of planes, solo-sailed a 50’ sailboat, and bicycled solo around the world…and he quilts.

    Read more from M. L. Buchman

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      Book preview

      Emily's Wedding - M. L. Buchman

      Emily’s Wedding

      Emily’s Wedding

      a Night Stalkers Wedding Story

      M. L. Buchman

      Buchmann Bookworks, Inc.

      Sign up for M. L. Buchman’s newsletter today

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      www.mlbuchman.com/newsletter

      5 Years Ago

      The events in this story occur shortly after

      The Night Is Mine

      (The Night Stalkers #1).

      Chapter 1

      N o, you can’t! Emily Beale considered pounding her head against the small desk in the Bagram Airfield’s USO communications center .

      "Sure I can, Squirt." Not a chance she’d give him the upper hand just because he used his childhood nickname for her.

      "Listen to my words, Sneaker Boy. No! How complicated is that? Two whole letters and an exclamation point? Even you can understand that." Perhaps pounding the phone against the desk would be the right answer. She could feel her voice rising and couldn’t stop it.

      If only the wedding had happened months ago when it was supposed to. But their planned leave had been interrupted by a crisis mission, then another. Now their current deployment was ending and she didn’t care who she had to kill, her marriage was going ahead.

      I’m the Commander-in-Chief. Of course I can do a wedding ceremony.

      "Actually, Mr. President, you can’t. That power doesn’t come with the office!" As soon as she shouted the words into the phone, she knew it was a mistake.

      Until that moment, the other military around her had been chatting away with their own spouses, parents, children—whoever they were willing to spend their precious phone-home minutes with.

      Now there was an echoing silence up and down the long rows of tiny desks at the Pat Tillman Memorial USO Center’s phone bank. Each station was about as wide as her fiancé’s shoulders—who thankfully was nowhere to be seen—with an empty ammo can for a seat. The whole reason she’d come over here to return this call, rather than doing it from the hangar, had been the privacy. She didn’t want every single Night Stalker she flew with to overhear this.

      Instead, every single person in the Tillman USO was looking at her with varying stages of shock on their face. They were mostly Air Force today, so they didn’t really matter, but not even Special Operations majors were supposed to be chewing out the Commander-in-Chief. She’d always had special dispensation: President Peter Matthews had been the dashing older boy next door and also the only friend of Emily’s overly precocious childhood. But these fliers didn’t know that and she’d just kicked the base’s gossip mill into high gear. Thankfully it couldn’t get much worse.

      Peter was still effusing in the background, We’ll have the ceremony here in The Residence, in the Blue Room. It will be great.

      Emily lowered her voice and whispered through gritted teeth. "We’re getting married on Mark’s family ranch, not the White House." Her attempts to hide her frustration still had absolutely everyone’s attention. And her whisper seemed to echo about the room.

      There a problem here? A deep voice sounded close behind her. So much for not getting worse.

      Emily didn’t bother to turn her head. She placed her forehead on the desk and tried not to whimper.

      Hey, honey, Mark’s big warm hand rested on her shoulder. Who you talking to?

      She didn’t bother to answer. Instead she simply held the phone up behind her head and he took it from her.

      Who’m I talkin’ to? Mark used his totally lame Texas accent rather than his most-decorated-Night Stalkers-helicopter-commander voice. He was from Montana, but never seemed to quite remember that.

      Emily waited through The President’s half of the conversation.

      W’all howdy there, Pete. What were you two jawin’ about?

      Emily, head still down, gave her fiancé the finger. She could hear the whispers to either side of her as flyboys and girls started telling their spouses about the crazy woman yelling

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