Victoria Sue may be the most versatile author that I follow closely – she can write anything. I started with her historical romance books which I loved, next I read her Sirius Wolves shifter series, which I loved, next came this Enhanced World, which I loved and then she went and wrote a fantastic contemporary series, which I loved. I guess I’m kind of following a them here, huh? LOL

The Enhanced World books just keep getting better and better. We met Sam/Angel in the previous book, Beneath This Mask and I was really excited to read this one. The Strength of His Heart was everything I expected and more. Victoria Sue never gives her guys an easy path to their HEA but she always gets them there – eventually. ?

The epilogue was perfect, too.

Reviews for Victoria Sue

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Ninety-three days.Two thousand hours.

And not so much as a <e.kiss.

Not that it would be appropriate right at that second in time, but Vance seemed to spend more time dreaming about his new partner than actually helping him. Sam’s radio crackled, and Vance jumped.

“Jesus, big boy,” Samuel “Angel” Piper whispered and patted Vance’s hand. “Settle down. We might be ages yet.” Sam held up the strap for his shoulder holster that he’d been trying to adjust. Vance grinned. Sam would be better off trying Toys“R”Us rather than the FBI for one small enough.

Vance tried to get his heart to regulate and to concentrate on what might be finally happening. He wasn’t suited to stakeouts. Not that they’d been on this for longer than two hours, but he was a “ram the door down and ask questions later” kind of person. He had volunteered to do the ramming on more than one occasion, but Sam had immediately put the kibosh on that, and it had stung. The fact that Sam didn’t think Vance was capable of doing anything other than stand around for what seemed a ridiculous amount of time and follow other people through doors stung also.

For ten of their twelve-week partnership, they’d been loaned out to the DEA. Sam’s old boss had needed him to talk to an informant who refused to speak to anyone other than Angel, and Vance seemed to have spent more hours standing in empty corridors and abandoned buildings waiting for other guys to ram doors down than he ever had with his team.

“What are you thinking about?” Sam narrowed his eyes.

Vance huffed. .

The car door opened. Special Agent Eddie Ramirez from the Baton Rouge DEA and ATF joint task force slid into the back seat. “Are you sure about this?”

“No, but Jaylen is,” Sam replied.

Vance glanced at Sam. He’d noticed that Sam got a little defensive when questioned. His mom would have said prickly. He had no idea why Sam got so bent out of shape, though, because at twenty-seven and looking ten years younger, Sam had to be used to half the force having more experience than him.

“And I ask again, how reliable is this kid?” Ramirez challenged.

Vance didn’t even bother trying to add anything to the conversation. The only other thing Vance had spent the last nearly three months doing was being stuck in a hotel room while Sam arranged meets with the informant, who would only speak to him. Vance was Sam’s partner, which was the only reason their boss, Gregory, had agreed to loan Sam to the task force in the first place—Gregory had refused to let Sam go without Vance having his back.

Except he didn’t, hadn’t, because Ramirez immediately said Vance stuck out like a sore thumb and banned him to the motel every time Sam met with Jaylen.

Vance hated Ramirez.

“He’s been reliable enough for the other seven arrests we’ve made,” Sam said mildly. “I was brought in to speak to Jaylen. This is his ticket to getting out.”

Sam looked over at the brightly lit church that was currently spilling out its worshippers after the service ended. According to Jaylen, the Holy Place of Our Lord was a front for the Red Stones, who had started out as a small-time distribution network and was now into import, prostitution, and protection. They brought in as many guns as heroin—hence the task force with the ATF. Jaylen had also insisted the church’s foster and private adoption program for at-risk kids was basically another way of cultivating either prostitution or their own army. And even worse—if there was a worse add-on than that—the younger, prettier ones, whose biggest problem should be learning how to throw a ball or ducking homework, were being sold on to fuck knew where and to fuck knew what.

Pastor Dominic Innes, who regularly held food drives and church picnics, was especially fond of little boys. Vance knew Jaylen had saved this last bust until he had gotten the deal he wanted. It had taken weeks, starting with reliable leads that led to bigger things until Jaylen had gotten a witness protection agreement for his family. Once he was safe, he’d promised to give them the info they needed to put Innes away, but they had to place Innes at the church as well. No risk of plausible deniability.

“You want me to go take a look?”

Vance immediately sat up. No way Sam was going in there to wander around on his own.

Ramirez shook his head. “I’m just waiting for as many people as possible to clear out. We have agents already in position around the back next to the storage area.” They were parked in a trash-strewn vacant lot hidden in plain sight next to a tricked-out Mazda and a Chevy held together by rust and optimism. The lot was steadily emptying, though, and it would soon get to the point where their cars would draw attention.

Vance looked up as their radio crackled again, and Sam’s eyes gleamed immediately. Movement had been spotted, and they thought they might have been seen. Four DEA agents ran past them, and in moments all four cars emptied and agents converged on the huge warehouse that doubled as a church.

Vance followed Sam, determined not to let him out of his sight this time, and they ran in through the heavy oak doors that still stood open. A few frightened shouts echoed as Baton Rouge PD quietly herded the stragglers. Vance carried on to the door at the back of the stage that led to a large locked storage room where they were told all the action happened, and in particular after the service. They were hoping to catch Innes in there so he couldn’t deny shit. The kids were kept at the pastor’s house, where Vice and CFS were with the cops doing a simultaneous raid.

They came to the door to the storage area, exactly where Jaylen said it was. A brief second and the door was rammed, bursting open, and with guns held high the cops swarmed in. Vance followed, but the hammering of his heart was the only sound he heard. There was quiet when he’d been expecting shouting, maybe even a few gunshots like the last raid. A few calls of “clear,” and then Sam holstered his Glock 43 and spun around the empty room in confusion. Vance followed quickly but did not put away his Sig P320, despite what many others did. If there was one thing he would do, it was to protect his partner.

Like a quest, Vance thought. An obsession, even. No, he preferred quest. Like they had in history. Didn’t it involve a big guy sitting on a huge-ass horse? Vance could easily be the guy. He wasn’t sure about the horse. And armor? Wasn’t there always armor?

“Fuck,” his not so in distress, and especially not a damsel, partner uttered eloquently.

Enhanced Series

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