Nanostealth

Retribution. Also known as "payback" or a more dated word: "vengeance." Arnaldo Soto has taken Emilio and intends to use him as bait to trap Gemma. It's an effective strategy, because Gemma will do anything-anything-to save the young boy. The woman known as Gemma Keyes is gone, her molecular structure destroyed and reassembled as . . . something else. In Gemma's stead emerges a fierce weapon: part woman, part nanotechnology, her cellular composition conjoined with the nanocloud, indissoluble and formidable. She and the nanomites are now more than a match for her enemies-but Gemma has promised God that she will not strive to visit retribution on Arnaldo Soto for taking Emilio. The nanomites have made no such promise. The third installment in the Nanostealth series will blow your mind.

I must survive. For Dr. Bickel's sake, I must survive. Weakened by the nanomites' drain, Gemma flees from General Cushing's renewed pursuit. She finds temporary refuge in Dr. Bickel's vacant safe house - refuge and time for her body to recover from the damage inflicted by the nanomites. But how does an invisible woman with no identity survive in a visible world? While the nanomites search for Dr. Bickel (intent upon facilitating his rescue), Gemma appropriates a new identity and, piece by piece, secures a tenuous foothold in the real world that allows her to move about unnoticed. To Gemma's amazement and grave misgivings, the nanomites, who had previously withstood her every overture, show themselves to be her allies. Or are they? The struggle for control is on. Nanostealth Book 1: Stealthy Steps Book 2: Stealth Power Book 3: Stealth Retribution Book 4: Deep State Stealth Book 5: Stealth Insurgence Book 6: Stealth Triumph Prequel: Stealth Genesis

My name is Gemma Keyes. Other than my name, I am utterly forgettable-so those who never paid much attention to me in the first place haven't exactly noticed that I've disappeared. Vanished. Oh, it's much more complicated than it sounds. And let me tell you, invisibility comes with it's own set of problems! I should tell you about Dr. Samuel Bickel, world-renowned nanophysicist. We used to work together, but I'll be candid with you: He's supposed to be dead. Well, he's not. Instead of the proverbial "six feet under," he's subsisting in an abandoned devolution cavern beneath the old Manzano Weapons Storage Facility on Kirtland Air Force Base here in Albuquerque. "I need to show you what I'm protecting here, Gemma," he insisted. I stared into the clear glass case. I could hear . . . humming, clicking, buzzing. A faint haze inside the box shifted. Dissolved. Came back together. Reminded me of how mercury, when released on a plate, will flow and form new shapes. Only this, this thing was "flowing and forming" in midair. My mouth opened to a stunned "o" as the silver haze resolved into blue letters. H E L L O Dr. Bickel hadn't pressed any buttons. Hadn't said anything to them. Hadn't gestured. He grinned. "Ah. They've noticed you." And I need to warn you about General Cushing. The rank and name likely conjure images of a lean but muscled old soldier, face cemented in unyielding lines, iron-gray hair cut high and tight. Let me disabuse you of that impression. General Imogene Cushing is short and a tiny bit plump. She wears her beautiful silvered hair in an elegant braid knotted at the nape of her neck, and she knows how to smile sweetly. With the deadliest of sharks.