In the third novel in nationally bestselling author K.A. Tucker’s romantic suspense series, a young woman travels to Dublin and finds herself at the scene of a crime—and falling for the guy who saves her. Armed with two years’ worth of savings and the need to experience life outside the bubble of her Oregon small town, twenty-five-year old Amber Welles is prepared for anything. Except dying in Dublin. Had it not been for the bravery of a stranger, she might have. But he takes off before she has the chance to offer her gratitude. Twenty-four-year-old River Delaney is rattled. No one was supposed to get hurt. But then that American tourist showed up. He couldn’t let her die, but he also can’t be identified at the scene—so, he fled. Back to his everyday life of running his family’s pub. Only, everyday life is getting more and more complicated, thanks to his brother, Aengus, and his criminal associations. When the American girl tracks River down, he quickly realizes how much he likes her, how wrong she is for him. And how dangerous it is to have her around. Pushing her away would be the smart move. Maybe it’s because he saved her life, or maybe it’s because he’s completely different from everything she’s left behind, but Amber finds herself chasing after River Delaney. Amber isn’t the kind of girl to chase after anyone. And River isn’t the kind of guy she’d want to catch. Praise for Chasing River : "A gripping addition to the Burying Water series…Tucker’s fans will tear through this passionate, fast-paced tale and be ready for more." ― Booklist “Tucker masterfully keeps the reader wondering about how the story could possibly end. Chasing River is a compelling tale about fighting for love and exploring the need to walk away.” ― New York Journal of Books Praise for Burying Water : "Another addictive triumph for the impressively prosaic Tucker." ― Globe and Mail "A smart and sexy thrill ride...Tucker's best writing yet." -- Karina Halle ― New York Times bestselling author on Becoming Rain “Tucker deftly steers the damsel-in-(serious, nearly fatal, possibly mob-related)-distress-rescued-by-a-knight-in-shining armor storyline, making these star-crossed lovers compelling. A sexy romantic, gangster-tinged page-turner.” ― Kirkus Reviews on Burying Water "Unique, engrossing, and heartbreaking. Burying Water is a mesmerizing read that will keep you captivated until the very last page." -- Rachel Van Dyken ― #1 New York Times bestselling author "Dark, ominous, and sexy...compelling from beginning to end." -- Laura Kaye ― New York Times bestselling author on Burying Water Praise for Five Ways to Fall : "Lush, atmospheric, and addictive, with a romance that sizzles. Guard your heart." -- Amber Hart ― author of Before You "You'll only need one reason to fall in love with K.A.Tucker." -- Jennifer L. Armentrout ― #1 New York Times bestselling author on Five Ways to Fall K.A. Tucker writes captivating stories with an edge. She is the bestselling author of the Ten Tiny Breaths and Burying Water series and the novels He Will Be My Ruin , Until It Fades , Keep Her Safe, and The Simple Wild . She currently resides in a quaint town outside Toronto with her husband and two beautiful girls. Chasing River ONE RIVER I weave around men and women alike with barely a pardon, struggling not to lose Aengus, nor to let on that I’m tailing him. The slick guy has done his part to make that tricky, his flinty gaze darting side-to-side as he briskly navigates the morning swell of pedestrians. Dressed in tan trousers and a plain white collared shirt, the beige tweed driver’s cap tipped low to help hide his face, he could pass for an office clerk or a salesman. Maybe a manager at one of the upscale Grafton Street stores. Someone responsible. Someone respectable. Someone that he’s not. It’s not even so much him that is making me suspicious. It’s that black leather satchel. The one he holds close to his body as if to protect it from being stolen or knocked by a passerby rushing to catch a bus or a streetlight. It’s the sweat seeping through the back of his shirt, when the air this early June morning is crisp. It’s the way he’s checked his watch three times in the span of twenty meters. My gut churns with explanations, all of them bad. Nothing good has come from Aengus since Portlaoise Prison spat him out four months ago. Six years inside Dublin’s maximum security walls have only fortified his connections, poisoned his convictions. Blackened his soul. They took in an ideological twenty-two-year-old Irish Republican and spat out an inspired criminal. And here I am, thirty steps back, tracking him through the gates of St. Stephen’s Green just moments after security opened passage for the day, as if it were all perfectly timed. Because, after all, he is still my brother. I glance at my own watch. It’s seven thirty a.m. While they tend to open the Green earlier during summer months, t