LAMBO-MUSICARTIST · AUTHOR · LICENSINGLAMBO PUBLISHING · ORIGINAL FICTION · LORII MYERS
Every order can be altered. Every authority must be proved.
Sixteen months after an attack leaves five days missing from her memory, Canadian journalist and covert operative Katrina Hughes accepts a controlled assignment in Tenerife. Altered orders, a vanished handler and a surveillance target tied to her past turn the mission into a fight to reclaim authority over her own identity.
THE STORY
What begins as a travel feature becomes a test of every channel Katrina trusts. Her editor has gone dark, her field partner is withholding another identity and authentic credentials are carrying instructions no one admits issuing. As Katrina separates observation from assumption, she uncovers a hidden authorization system built around her work and identity—forcing her to choose between inherited loyalty and accountable control.
Katrina is analytical, intuitive and highly trained, but she is not invulnerable. She must decide whether her instincts are guiding her toward truth or echoing the people who shaped her. Her most difficult investigation is the missing architecture of her own life.
Ricardo Espinel—the photographer beside her and the person she most wants to believe—may hold answers that could either restore her confidence or dismantle it. Their shifting alliance keeps personal trust inseparable from professional survival.
WHAT SETS IT APART
Recovered fragments do more than reveal backstory. They alter the active investigation, forcing Katrina—and the reader—to continually reassess motive, identity and allegiance.
Ports, volcanic terrain, old streets, hotels and crowded public spaces turn Tenerife into active suspense terrain, balancing cinematic scale with close psychological tension.
Tradecraft and surveillance matter, but the central conflict is human: the need to know who shaped your life, who benefits from your loyalty and who you choose to become once the cover falls away.
OFFICIAL BLURB
Sixteen months after an attack leaves five days missing from her memory, Canadian journalist and covert operative Katrina Hughes accepts a controlled assignment in Tenerife. Then her handler disappears, authentic credentials begin carrying contradictory orders, and a surveillance target linked to Katrina's past exposes a hidden authorization system built around her work and identity.
Her partner, photographer Ricardo Espinel, is concealing an identity of his own. Her recovered memories cannot be trusted without proof. And rival factions believe Katrina's credential can help them control a fortune in intercepted criminal proceeds.
To survive, Katrina must separate evidence from manipulation, loyalty from control—and claim the authority to decide what happens next.
SYNOPSIS
A female-led psychological espionage thriller in which Katrina Hughes follows compromised communications and concealed identities toward an authorization network built around her own work. The investigation forces her to distinguish protection from control and decide what accountable authority should look like when every trusted system carries another agenda.
A spoiler-complete three-page agent and publisher synopsis is held privately and available through qualified professional review.
READ CHAPTER ONE
Presented from an author-approved author-review edition.
Dusk. Enough light to see the hallway, enough shadow to hide what doesn’t belong. The lock turns without resistance. Someone has defeated it cleanly. Bex’s active threat protocol is the only reason I arrived with a secured emergency handgun. I draw it only after recognizing the compromised lock, then ease the door open. The framed photo by the closet is crooked. Last week’s mail is stacked in a neat pile. Someone’s been inside—careful, unhurried—and the air still feels occupied.
I take one step in. The living-room drapes are pulled tight, turning my place into a cave. Near the far wall, a chair sits at the wrong angle beside papers scattered on the floor. Nothing has been taken. Someone has searched carefully enough to make disorder look accidental. My pulse tries to sprint ahead of me.
One rule cuts through the adrenaline: get out alive. The rest—who sent them, what they wanted, why my name is suddenly worth blood—comes later.
I shut the door softly and scan for exits, angles, reflections. Then a narrow wash of pale light crosses the wall to my left, disappears, and crosses it again. Outside. A signal. My throat goes dry.
I force myself still. In the silence, a faint shuffle answers me. They’re still here. And the repeated light wasn’t accidental. They know I’m home.
Three of them. Two inside, one posted somewhere outside.
My eyes settle into the darkness. A shape slides in the kitchen doorway—a man, masked, slim, moving with practiced caution. Not a burglar. Not tonight.
Glass explodes. Water sprays as a vase shatters against the wall. The neighbour’s dog erupts into a frantic bark. Good. Noise is coverage. Noise is witness.
My body goes automatic. I step in and kick hard enough to create space. He stumbles. For one heartbeat, I think I’ve won the moment.
I land wrong. Not because I missed—because someone else was already behind me.
The first impact knocks the handgun from my grip. It skids across the floor as hands drive me into the wall and steal my balance. Light breaks apart. Sound recedes.
Confusion swims up. My vision blurs. My gun is inches away and suddenly unreachable. Their breathing is too steady. This is a job.
My body surges—then falters. My heart is trying to outrun the room, but the rest of me goes loose.
Then the questions stop.
Door. Gun. Kitchen. Two men inside. One outside. The running commentary in my head cuts to black, and the room becomes angles.
“My jaw’s broken. Can you fucking believe it?”
His partner doesn’t answer. He moves like the one in charge, kicks my handgun farther away, and picks it up without taking his eyes off me.
He steps on the back of my left hand as he kneels. Pain flashes white, but I keep my face empty. Stillness is not surrender. It is the story I am giving him.
Two fingers press the side of my neck. I let my body remain slack and my breathing shallow.
“Barely a pulse. What the hell were you thinking? We were done. We could’ve just left.”
“She’s Matador. You don’t mess with those people. She already knows enough to identify us. This wasn’t the plan.”
When he says Matador, the man holding my gun glances toward the hallway. Not confidence. Fear. Useful.
“She can’t identify us. Get me to the kitchen. I need to spit—everything tastes like metal.”
They move away. I do not. The first opening can be bait.
One breath. Two. A tap runs. Metal scrapes against the sink. Their voices turn away from the door.
“Just finish her off. We’ll dump the body.”
Perfect.
Now.
I crack my eyes open. The world swims, but the route is clear. I crawl to the door, ease it open a fraction, and slip outside before either man realizes the helpless woman on the floor was watching everything.
Do they realize I’m conscious? Do they even know I’m gone?
I jam the key into the ignition. The engine catches. Adrenaline floods in, clean and brutal. I slam into reverse and squeal backward through the driveway, tires biting for traction.
I don’t have time to be careful. I have time to be gone. I aim for town, for lights, for people, for any place where predators don’t like to hunt.
No headlights yet—but my skull pounds with every heartbeat, each thud like a vault door slamming. My vision narrows at the edges.
I touch my cheek, find a cut, and keep driving.
I trigger the car’s concealed satellite distress control. The dashboard confirms the first transmitted waypoint before I speak.
I check the mirror again. Lights. They’re behind me now. How fast? One-thirty, one-forty—maybe. Not fast enough to outrun intent.
The guardrails end. The road doesn’t forgive. The car snaps sideways, then lifts—weightless for a breath—before the world tilts toward the trees.
I’m suspended in the air—thoughtless, timeless—waiting for gravity to make its decision.
SCREEN ADAPTATION · S-01-PILOT
Sixteen months after an attack leaves five days missing from her memory, Canadian journalist and trained reconnaissance operative Katrina Hughes follows a compromised assignment to Tenerife—where every person offering protection may be trying to control the choice only she can make.
Current authority v1.4 · 27 August 2026. One-hour drama · 56 screenplay pages.
Scripted teaser + five acts. One-hour pilot + supporting package v1.0 + separate six-episode limited-series bible v1.0.
Available for television story editing and development conversations. The screenplay remains private.
Public teaser summary: Katrina returns to an Ontario house that has been searched and deliberately restaged. She survives a coordinated attack, triggers a concealed distress signal and crashes while Matador discovers that someone is injecting false coordinates into the emergency response.
PUBLISHING & SCREEN POTENTIAL
RECON TEN combines a complete central mystery with the foundations of a larger international story world. Its female lead, destination-rich setting, recovered-memory structure and shifting allegiances support immersive screen adaptation while preserving the novel's psychological point of view.
An opening sample may be requested through verified Professional Access. The full manuscript remains private and is shared only by the rights holder.
SELECTED WORDS FROM THE MANUSCRIPT
Approved quotations by Lorii Myers, selected to accompany this manuscript’s public blurb and synopsis.
“The choice expires when the evidence changes, not when either of us becomes uncomfortable.”
““Relief is not permission, and it is not absolution.””
“Verification works better when the witness is not invited into our preferred story.”