Titus Ray Thrillers feature CIA intelligence officer, Titus Ray, who was brought to faith in Christ by a group of Iranian Christians during a botched mission in Tehran. Following his conversion, he questions whether or not he will be able to live out his faith and follow the teachings of Christ while still being employed at the CIA.  

These thrillers follow Titus as he carries out operations against America’s enemies, while trying to live the Christian life. In his journey of faith, he meets a beautiful Christian woman, deals with a myriad of family issues, and fights his own personal demons. Sometimes, he fails miserably at doing the right thing. At other times, he achieves victory over his sinful nature. In reality, Titus isn’t much different than most believers, except he’s a covert operative in the world of espionage.

You can learn more about each book in the series by clicking on the tabs in the menu above. If you’d like to receive updates and insider news on the series, you can sign up for the Titus Ray Thriller Series Newsletter here. When you sign up, you’ll receive a FREE COPY of Titus Ray Recipes and Short Stories.

The next book in the five-book series is entitled Four Months in Cuba. It will be released in the fall of 2017.

As a way of introducing you to One Night in Tehran, Two Days in Caracas, and Three Weeks in Washington, there are excerpts to each chapter in the Chapter Comments, following this post. You may also click on the Categories menu on the left under Chapter Comments.

Three Weeks in Washington was the winner of the 2017 Oklahoma Book Award for fiction. All books in the series are available on Amazon here.

Listen to Author Luana Ehrlich describe the series in this video.

Three Weeks in Washington, Book III in the Titus Ray Thriller Series is also available as an AudioBook. You can download it on Audible through Amazon. If you aren’t an Audible subscriber, when you join, you can download it for free. Download here.

Front Cover

(Read an excerpt from Chapter 1: Purchase here on Amazon.)

Monday, June 22
The shooter was just around the corner from me. To get to him, I would need to cross N Street.

If I crossed N Street, he would have a clear shot at me. 

I decided to wait him out.

He had already eluded several SWAT teams in the Washington Navy Yard, the home of U.S. Naval Operations, and now he was hunkered down inside the entryway of Building 175. I suspected he was trying to find an exit out of the former shipyard.

If I remained at my present location, at the corner of Building 172, he would walk right into my waiting arms when he crossed N Street. I stayed put.

I wasn’t exactly sure how the shooter had end up at the Navy Yard in Washington, D.C. on a summer morning in June, but I’d arrived at the location after driving non-stop from Norman, Oklahoma.


Douglas Carlton, my operations officer, and the head of the Middle East desk at the CIA, had called me the day before and given me the surprising news I’d been restored to active duty status by the stroke of a pen from Robert Ira, the Deputy Director of Operations at the CIA.

Three months earlier, the DDO had placed me on medical leave after the two of us had engaged in a very public spat regarding his competency. I’d questioned him about his ability to run Operations, because I’d discovered his political games at the Agency had brought down my network in Tehran.

Needless to say, things had not gone smoothly for me after that, and, except for a brief run into Caracas to capture a Hezbollah assassin, I’d spent the last two months in Norman, Oklahoma on medical leave.

Ostensibly, I’d been there trying to recuperate from shattering my leg while trying to escape the clutches of VEVAK, the Iranian secret police. But, in reality, everyone at the Agency knew my medical leave was simply Ira’s way of punishing me for berating him in front of two division heads during a debriefing.

Immediately after Carlton had called to tell me I’d been reinstated, I’d gotten in touch with my property manager in Norman. After that, I’d reluctantly said goodbye to Nikki Saxon, a detective in the Norman Police Department, and I’d made my way across the southern states to the east coast.

An hour before arriving at Building 172, I’d been cruising along the interstate outside of Fairfax, Virginia. That’s when I’d called Carlton to let him know I’d be in his office at Langley within the hour.

My boss didn’t sound happy.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “There’s been a shooting at the Washington Navy Yard and all federal agencies within a fifty-mile radius of Washington D.C. are on lockdown.”

“Are you telling me you’re not allowed to leave the grounds?”

“Not just the grounds. We’re being told to stay inside the buildings.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as a little strange? You’re supposed to be providing intel for any threats to the homeland. How can you assess threats when you’re not allowed to leave your own backyard?”

“We’re being told it’s for our own safety. The feds believe the shooters could be part of a coordinated attack against all government agencies in the area. The CIA is an obvious target.”

He was quiet for several seconds, and I imagined him aligning the corners of the pile of papers in front of him—a compulsive habit and one of his many idiosyncrasies.

“One of the shooters at the Navy Yard has already been taken out, but the feds believe the other one is still somewhere in the compound.”

“What nationality is the dead guy?”

“He wasn’t from the Middle East, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s been identified as Reyes Valario, and he’s been here on a student visa from Venezuela for at least a year. The FBI is sifting through the intel on him as we speak, and our own analysts are scanning the data banks as well.”

“Did they call Salazar for his input?”

Carlton made some kind of strange noise at the back of his throat.

I didn’t think the timing of his guttural utterance was coincidental with the mention of Salazar’s name.

C.J. Salazar was the head of the Latin American desk at the Agency. He wasn’t known for his astute grasp of the region. Instead, his focus was on the drug cartels operating in his territory, and, for that reason, everyone around the Agency called him Cartel Carlos.

Not to his face, though.

I’d experienced his ineptitude firsthand on my recent run into Caracas during Operation Clear Signal. Both Salazar and Carlton had been part of the Clear Signal team directing Ben Mitchell and me as we tried to stop a Hezbollah assassin from murdering a high-profile government official in Caracas, Venezuela.

Carlton said, “The Department of Homeland Security called C.J., but he didn’t give them anything.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Well, he did have our analysts run down Valario’s prints and the origins of his visa. He also called Ben Mitchell, who was in D.C. at the time, and sent him over to the DHS Command Center in the Navy Yard. He said since Ben had recently been in Venezuela, it made sense for him to serve as the Agency’s liaison with DHS.”

“Ben’s over at the Command Center? I might head over there myself. I’m not that far away.”

“You haven’t been reinstated yet, Titus. Officially, you’re still on medical leave.”

“I’ll keep my head down. It won’t be a big deal.”

It wasn’t.

But then, it was.


Download your copy of Three Weeks in Washington on Amazon.

Chapter 16

I began writing Titus Ray Thrillers when I heard about the persecution of Iranian Christians in Tehran. My first book, ONE NIGHT IN TEHRAN, describes how Titus Ray, the main protagonist, was brought to faith in Christ after living with some Iranian Christians for three months following a botched operation in Tehran.

Once he returns to the States, while being pursued by an assassin, he tries to figure out what it means to be a follower of Christ. As difficult as it is, since he has no spiritual background and no one to mentor him, he gradually begins to grow in his faith. While he gets excited about his new relationship with the Lord, he’s not sure how to integrate the teachings of Christ into his career, and if he can even do so.

In the second book, TWO DAYS IN CARACAS, he has an opportunity to share his faith with his sister, Carla, when he returns to Flint, Michigan to bury his mother. Chapter 16 describes his attempts to witness to her of God’s love.

Here’s an excerpt:

“Why is this so important to you? You’ve never cared about religion before.”

“You’re right, I’ve never cared about religion before and I still don’t. But what I do care about is my relationship to Jesus Christ.”

Carla giggled. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

For the next several minutes, I attempted to share with Carla how I’d become a believer.

Since the circumstances and identities of the people who had led me to the Lord were classified, I simply told her I’d met some believers who, despite a difficult situation, were joyously happy. I also explained how committed they had been to studying the Bible and having regular times of prayer.

“That’s incredible, Titus,” Carla said, reaching out and squeezing my hand. “You sound very sincere about this.”

“I want you to know God’s love for yourself, Carla.”

She withdrew her hand. “Are you trying to convert me?”

“I’m just asking you to think about it. That’s all.”

Two Days in Caracas is also available as an Audio Book.  You can download it here on Audible and Amazon.

Listen to the first chapter here:

One Night in Tehran is now available as an audio book. You can download it on Audible and Amazon.

Listen to the first chapter here.

Chapter 3

South of America’s border. Los Zetas, the most powerful drug cartel in Latin America, has joined up with Hezbollah and the Al Quds force from Iran to create a deadly alliance to transport both drugs and illegals into the United States.

According to Americas Report, a publication put out by the Center for Security Policy, the two organizations are now engaged in a myriad of illegal activities together. These activities include the drug trade, money laundering, and human trafficking. In addition, Hezbollah has been allowed to open up cultural centers and camps in many Latin American cities, which are being used as training centers for sleeper cells in the United States.

Former Assistant Secretary of State for Western Hemisphere Affairs, Roger Noriega believes an attack on the U.S. by Hezbollah is possible. He recently testified before Congress about such operations in Paraguay, Brazil and Argentina, and how this alliance is gaining ground in Central America and Mexico. Much of what Noriega outlined in various reports on this subject forms the underlying basis of the plot lines for Two Days in Caracas.

THE FOLLOWING IS AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER THREE:

Bledsoe looked at me as if he didn’t quite believe I was being forthcoming with him.

“Does the Agency know how Ahmed arrived in the States in the first place?”

“Carlton said he flew to Mexico City from Damascus on a Lebanese passport. Once he got to Mexico, he disappeared. But since Hezbollah has ties with the Zeta drug cartel, our analysts believe the cartel helped him make his way up to Nuevo Laredo, over the U.S. border, and then on to Dallas. They’re still pulling the data threads on that connection though.”

Bledsoe said, “I know the cartel must be involved in this, and I’ll tell you why.”

He opened the red folder and removed a single sheet of paper. “About a year ago, after I made several unsuccessful attempts to obtain any intel on the drug cartels operating here, I finally recruited an asset inside the Zeta ring. His name is Hernando, and, although he’s a very low-level employee, he’s a solid source of information.

“Right now, all he does is take care of administrative details and run errands. I’ve been very cautious about using him because I want his bosses to trust him completely. That way he can work his way up the ranks and be privy to the kind of information we can use to bring down the cartel’s entire network. I’ve been carefully grooming him for over a year now. It’s been a slow process, but I’m certain we’re going to get some results soon.”

“I haven’t forgotten your cautious nature, Toby.”

He stared at me for several seconds, probably trying to decide if my remark was meant as a compliment or a criticism.

I tried to look non-committal.

He went on. “For the past six months, the cartel’s been ferrying drugs into the States using couriers who pose as tourists from San José. Since my asset arranges visas and airline tickets for them, I asked him to photocopy the passports of the mules they were using to move their product north. Here’s the list I made after he gave me the passport copies.”

He handed me the sheet of paper he’d been holding in his hand.

As I scanned the contents, he asked, “Anything jump out at you?”