Category: Showcase

Guest Author Karen Fisher-Alaniz

I am humbled, to have been asked by Jodi from WOW! Women On Writing, to host and introduce you to today’s guest.  A fitting tribute for Veteran’s Day and to respect and honor all those that have selflessly fought for our freedom.  So I ask, to help me give a warm welcome to Karen Fisher-Alaniz!

Karen Fisher-Alaniz

Karen Fisher-Alaniz was born and raised in Washington state. She taught special education for fourteen years before embarking on a new path as a writer. Although she’d been writing for fun since first grade, she’d never considered writing a book until her father handed her a collection of letters on his 81st birthday. Since then, she’s toured bookstores and other events signing her book, inspired audiences with her public speaking, and was even interviewed by NPR’s Audie Cornish for the Weekend Edition. She lives in Walla Walla, WA.
Visit Karen Alaniz’s at her website here.

ABOUT THE BOOK

On his 81st birthday, without explanation, Karen Fisher-Alaniz’s father placed two weathered notebooks on her lap. Inside were more than 400 pages of letters he’d written to his parents during WWII. She began reading them, and the more she read, the more she discovered about the man she never knew.

They began to meet for lunch every week, for her to ask him questions, and him to provide the answers. It was through this process that she discovered the secret role he played in WWII. Karen’s father was part of a small and elite group of men who were trained to copy and break top-secret Japanese code transmitted in Katakana.

Through this journey, with painful memories now at the forefront of his thoughts, Karen’s father began to suffer, making their meetings as much about healing as discovery. Thus began an unintended journey–one taken by a father and daughter who thought they knew each other–as they became newly bound in ways that transcended age and time.

“It’s a story that left me covered with goosebumps time and again and eventually moved me to tears…” ~ J.A. Jance, NY Times Bestselling Author  

Just Thought You Should Know:
Breaking the Code is a double memoir, the journey of Karen’s father during World War II and Karen’s journey half a century later as she struggled to find the real truth about her father – for her sake and for his. To celebrate this unusual memoir giveaway copies will contain bookplates signed by both Karen and her 91 year old father.

Amazon link

THANKS TO AUTHOR, Karen Fisher-Alaniz, AND WOW, I HAVE
ONE (1) COPY OF THIS BOOK TO GIVEAWAY. OPEN TO ALL FOR
EBOOK AND/OR PRINT COPY FOR U.S. RESIDENTS ONLY.

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

DISCLAIMER
Giveaway copies are supplied and shipped to winners
via publisher, agent and/or author. This blog hosts
the giveaway on behalf of the above.
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.

Guest Author T.J. Cooke

Am I the only one, who wishes, that I knew how to speed read?  There are so many books that I want to read but real life keeps interfering.  And today’s guest has such a book, that is now on my TBR list.   I wanted to introduce you to him so that you will also put him on your list.  So without further ado, meet T.J. Cooke!!!

T.J. COOKE

TJ Cooke, otherwise known as Tim, was formerly a legal executive in London, specialising in criminal law.

He became the legal advisor to the BBC’s most popular drama Eastenders, before going on to write many episodes of broadcast drama himself. He has notched up writing credits for some of UK’s most popular series, including ‘London’s Burning’,The Bill’, ‘Bad Girls’, ‘Family Affairs’ and ‘Madson’ with Ian McShane.

Tim has dovetailed his screenwriting career with advertising copywriting and freelance journalism. He has written numerous television and radio commercials for a variety of well known companies, and compiled features and articles for magazines and newspapers.

Writing under TJCooke, his debut novel, ‘Kiss and Tell’ has been hailed as innovative and inventive crime fiction. It introduces us to unorthodox lawyer Jill Shadow who some say is a cross between Kay Scarpetta and Erin Brockovich.

The book will be available on Amazon Kindle this Autumn, with TJ Cooke’s second novel to follow.
Visit T.J. at his website here.

GUEST POST

Inspiration and motivation…

I now work as an advertising copywriter, mostly writing radio commercials.

My very first job however was as an ‘outdoor clerk’ at a busy legal firm inLondon. This mostly involved helping lawyers prepare cases for trial. If they were criminal cases it invariably meant organising visits to remand prisoners in Brixton, Wormwood Scrubs and Holloway. The firm also represented victims of domestic violence, tenants in dispute with their landlords and individuals who had been either been injured or unfairly treated by their employers.

This job was supposed to last six weeks! It was a post-university ‘filler’ and I was meant to be following a career in advertising; in fact I’d been offered a job at a prestigiousLondonagency. However, as it transpired, I ended up spending ten years working in the law, mostly as a legal executive, and largely focussing on crime in deprived areas.

I had a vast range of clients and cases, and every now and again one would come along that left an uneasy feeling. Though I still like to think that our justice system is by and large a sound one, there are cases that seep through the cracks, sometime leaving the guilty unpunished and the innocent unfairly convicted. It’s these grey areas that have always interested me… and this is often where the most compelling stories can be found.

Looking back now I realise I always wanted to write for a living, but until another opportunity presented itself I wasn’t sure how to go about it. I had long since realised that I was not a lawyer by choice, or desire.

It was a chance meeting, atLondon’s famous ‘Old Bailey’ Court that was the catalyst. I had a client on a murder trial, who had a character witness who happened to be the then producer of BBC’s Eastenders. The client was actually acquitted after only fifteen minutes of jury deliberation, one of the quickest on record. He had been attacked himself by two muggers in South London, but he’d fought back and stabbed one mugger with the mugger’s own knife, as it transpired fatally.

After the case had finished the show’s producer told me she was looking for an advisor, someone who could help with their criminal storylines and in particular the upcoming murder trial of character Nick Cotton. That’s how it all got going. I went to the set at Elstree, met all the cast and crew and before long was pitching scripts for the show. As it happened ITV’s The Bill offered me a script first, so I went to their studios in Merton and worked for them for a while. Then I got a tv agent and worked on Family Affairs,London’s Burning, Bad Girls and a few others.

Though I enjoyed the tv work I had a bug to write something original and thought this could best be expressed in novel form. This coincided with my move to Devon six years ago, which is when I first set about writing ‘Defending Elton’ and then ‘Kiss and Tell’… and the story goes from there…

Though I enjoy crime fiction I found that there was a certain template that many writers stuck to. It’s one that often involves a serial killer at large and one or two detectives who ultimately ‘get their man’. These stories can be great in their own way but they weren’t for me.

I deliberately set about creating narrative and character that approached crime fiction from a different angle. I guess I’ve always been a creative person and whether its writing adverts for radio listeners or books for readers I always try to create something original.

Hence Jill Shadow was born. A maverick protagonist, someone who doesn’t always get things right, or pursue matters in an orthodox way. What Jill Shadow does have though is a steely determination, to fight any injustice and to dig out the truth.  She has no agenda either, she doesn’t work for the state, has no political affiliation and no particular axe to grind. She treats everyone as equals and will take on any client, just as if she was a cab driver and they were in a queue at a taxi rank.

This has its own risks. Jill won’t be bought, won’t toe the line regardless and won’t take no for an answer. It’s as likely to lead her into scrapes with authority as it is with the underworld… and in ‘Kiss and Tell’ it does both, with plenty of twists and turns along the way…

ABOUT THE BOOK

Down to earth lawyer Jill Shadow has overcome a traumatic past, one kept hidden from both professional colleagues and her 12 year old daughter Hannah. When imminent danger sees Jill transferred to a safe house, and her daughter abducted from school, Jill soon realises it’s a past she must confront…

Desperate to piece things together, Jill knows there are two key events which might help the authorities trace her missing daughter…. her involvement in the Bella Kiss drug case, and the release of her former partner Jimmy Briscoe from a lengthy jail term.

With time running out, Jill takes matters into her own hands…setting out to find her missing daughter and discover where the real truth lies…

Review:
With his first novel, TJ Cooke introduces us to Jill Shadow, the accidental lawyer with a past she wants to stay hidden. But despite her best efforts, it catches up with her at the speed of a hurtling train and threatens not only her but her daughter Hannah. The various strands of both her personal and professional life slowly become inextricably linked until all becomes clear as the book reaches its climax. This is a crime thriller with soul and a page-turner to boot. I am sure this is not the last we’ll see of this tenacious lawyer. Highly recommended! Tim Kevan – Bloomsbury Author and former Times and Guardian blogger

Purchase link: Amazon

THANKS TO AUTHOR, T.J. COOKE, I HAVE ONE (1) EBOOK TO GIVE AWAY.
OPEN TO ALL

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or
Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affliate.
I am providing link(s) solely for visitors
that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Guest Author Roxanne St. Claire

Boy do I have a treat for you today!!!  If I know my followers, I know a lot of you are going to enjoy  today’s guest.   I want to thank Jihan, from The Hachette Book Group for giving me the opportunity of hosting today’s guest, New York Times Bestselling Author, Roxanne St. Claire!!

ROXANNE ST. CLAIRE

Roxanne St. Claire is a New York Times bestselling author of more than twenty novels. She currently writes romance for Grand Central/Forever, including the popular “Guardian Angelinos” series and also penned an eight-book award winning series called The Bullet Catchers. Next year, Delacorte Press will release her first Young Adult novel, which has been optioned as a feature film.  She resides in Florida.
Visit her website: www.roxannestclaire.com

 GUEST POST

It’s Raining Kisses!  Roxanne St. Claire

As I write this, I’m watching Hurricane Sandy dump buckets of rain on the east coast of Florida and that makes me want to…kiss.  What can I say?  I’m a romance writer.  And I am celebrating the release of Barefoot in the Rain, a book with a few hot kisses in the rain.

A real kiss in the rain is probably not as glamorous as in books and movies.  I mean, what a mess, right?  Your hair is matted, you mascara smears, I bet it’s cold with all that water pouring over you!  But that’s why we call it fiction, folks!  I did a little research and have come up with my five favorite “rain kisses” in the movies…and there is no shortage of them!  To compile my list, I got some ideas from my Facebook fans (thanks, guys!) and my own memory.  My five favorite rain kisses, in order…

5. Four Weddings and A Funeral.  This kiss makes the list because Hugh Grant is so adorable in this movie and the kiss is amazing.  Andie MacDowell’s line (“Is it raining? I hadn’t noticed.”) does fall into the cheeseball category, but bruised Hugh gets high marks for his one of a kind grovel and a lopsided proposal.

4. The Notebook.  This one’s so visually stunning, it made the movie poster!  Also, the hero’s line is sheer perfection.  “It wasn’t over.  It still isn’t over.”  Then Ryan Gosling does a perfect snag and crush kiss and we all melt in the rain.  Nice.

3.  Spider Man – This one got a lot of votes as a memorable romantic moment in an otherwise high-action film.  Naturally, Spidey has to do it upside down.  Would we expect any less?

2. Breakfast at Tiffanys – I recently watched this with my daughter, expecting her to hate this blast to the past in this 1960’s classic.  But she fell in love with Audrey Hepburn (who wouldn’t?) and we were both teary during the incredible “the end” kiss in the rain with George Peppard.  Of course, the cat steals the scene!

1. A Cinderella Story — the “touchdown” kiss.  This is my all time favorite but not because it’s the most swoonworthy of all kisses.  As rain kisses go, it’s very chaste and sweet , like the film itself.  I chose this kiss for #1 because  I. Love. This. Movie.  I find it completely charming and simply cannot bear to pass up Hilary Duff and Chad Michael Murray when I’m channel surfing.  The movie is in my personal top ten rom com flicks, so the adorable kiss during the first drop of rain following a California drought it definitely delicious for me.

Bonus:  Not a rain kiss but since we’re in Barefoot Bay, that secluded and romantic inlet that is the setting for all four books in the series, how about a great beach kiss, too?  My favorite is from the classic  From Here to Eternity…is that not the best sandy kiss ever?  Wet enough to qualify for Rain Kisses, this one Iands a special place of honor on our list.

What’s on YOUR rain kiss list? Leave a comment below and one winner gets a “Barefoot Bundle” — copies of Barefoot in the Sun and, of course, this week’s brand new release, Barefoot in the Rain!

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

New York Times bestselling author Roxanne St. Claire has returned with her second book of the contemporary romance,Barefoot Bay Quartet, BAREFOOT IN THE RAIN. (October 30, 2012)
Famous “Lifecoach to the Stars” Jocelyn Bloom is entangled in scandal and desperate to go into hiding away from sunny California. When her friends offer her refuge at Barefoot Bay, Jocelyn doesn’t even hesitate… even though Barefoot Bay is the one place that she wishes that she could forget.
Years ago, she left Barefoot Bay with a broken heart and a promise to stay away from Will Palmer to keep him safe.  Now, nothing about the tiny island off the coast of Florida is quite how she remembers it, especially Will.
To Will Palmer, Guy Bloom is more than the elderly, senile neighbor he looks after – he is the last connection to Jocelyn, the woman Will loved and lost. After Will reunites with Jocelyn again for the first time, it doesn’t go smoothly. Shocked by the change in her father’s personality, Jocelyn struggles to reconcile her dark childhood with her father who has grown close to Will.
Jocelyn has guided countless clients to happiness – but can she do the same for her own?

THANKS TO JIHAN, FROM THE HACHETTE BOOK GROUP, I HAVE
TWO (2) COPIES TO GIVEAWAY. U.S. RESIDENTS ONLY.

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.

Guest Author Paul Batista

I have seen today’s guest’s book around cyberland, so when Lauren from Blue Dot Literary contacted me, I knew I would love to have the author stop by to tell us about it.  So without further ado, Mr. Paul Batista!

PAUL BATISTA

Paul Batista, novelist and television personality, is one of the most widely known trial lawyers in the country. As a trial attorney, he specializes in federal criminal litigation. As a media figure, he is known for his regular appearances as guest legal commentator on a variety of television shows including, Court TV, CNN, HLN and WNBC. He’s also appeared in the HBO movie, You Don’t Know Jack, starring Al Pacino.

A prolific writer, Batista authored the leading treatise on the primary federal anti-racketeering statute, Civil RICO Practice Manual, which is now in its third edition (Wiley & Sons, 1987; Wolters Kluwer, 2008). He has written articles for The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and The National Law Journal.

Batista’s debut novel, Death’s Witness, was awarded a Silver Medal by the Independent Book Publishers Association (IBPA). And his new novel, Extraordinary Rendition, is now being published—along with a special reissue of Death’s Witness—by Astor + Blue Editions.

Batista is a graduate of Bowdoin College, where he was elected to Phi Beta Kappa, and Cornell Law School. He’s proud to have served in the United States Army. Paul Batista lives inNew York City andSag Harbor,New York.

GUEST POST

WHY MAKE THE TRANSITION FROM BUSY LAWYER TO NOVELIST?

More basically, why exit from a business with a good regular paycheck to a business where the financial rewards are uncertain?  Why exchange a suit for a casual shirt and jeans?  I get asked these questions a lot, and they are in fact questions I ask myself.

Let’s start with a disclaimer.  I haven’t entirely abandoned the practice of law.  This is work I’ve done for more than thirty years, and old habits die hard. Besides, I like it. More important is the fact that the legal work I do provides fuel for the novels I write.  A criminal case or even a civil lawsuit involves a story, a narrative.  Part of the function of a lawyer is to shape the narrative — not to fabricate facts but to tell a story.

Creating fiction, however, does give me a license to do more than just shape the narrative of a case.  In writing a novel I have the ability and the incentive to weave imagined events together, to create personalities and personal histories, to generate intrigue and conflict.  In practicing law, I’m confined by facts — and those facts can be extremely interesting given the nature of the work I do — but there are no such constraints in writing fiction.

There’s another factor.  Law is a highly regulated business.  No matter how independent you may be as a lawyer, there are people known as judges.  They require you to do specific things on their schedule, not on yours.  They want you to do things their way, not necessarily yours.  They tend to have outsized personalities — wearing a robe can transform a guy or gal who in civilian clothes is demure and shy into a muscled-up action figure.  And there are also clients.  They get to call you in the middle of the night.

The external controls on fiction-writing are different.  Sure, an editor can set “deadlines” but those are more goals and aspirations rather than drop-dead dates.  You can be disbarred for missing a judge-imposed deadline if you do that too often.  The worst a publisher can do is get mad at you.

But the most important reason for transforming myself into a novelist from a practicing lawyer is the beauty of transformation.  The stuff of a novelist’s life is different from the stuff of a lawyer’s life.  Creating novels is a liberating experience; you can let loose your imagination.  I find I can have a passion and a drive that, even though I’ve loved practicing law, I can’t completely tap into in a courtroom. You hear commencement speakers constantly delivering to young graduates the trite mandate to “follow your passions.”   As you move through life and hit the jarring realities of jobs, families and obligations, you can get cynical about those conventional admonitions to follow your passions, live out your dreams, and fulfill your talents.

But those inspirational messages do have meaning, at least for yours truly. Even a lawyer can break out of the constraints of the life he or she has lived.  There is something invigorating, even for a seasoned adult, in taking risks and having the courage to give up security and embrace something unknown, strange, exciting — fresh.

ABOUT THE BOOK

When Ali Hussein—suspected terrorist and alleged banker for Al Qaeda—is finally transported from Gitmo to theUSmainland to stand trial, many are stunned when Byron Carlos Johnson, pre-eminent lawyer and the son of a high-profile diplomat, volunteers as counsel.  On principle, Johnson thought he was merely defending a man unjustly captured through Rendition and water-boarded illegally. But Johnson soon learns that there is much more at stake than one man’s civil rights.

Hussein’s intimate knowledge of key financial transactions could lead to the capture of—or the unabated funding of—the world’s most dangerous terror cells. This makes Hussein the target of corruptUS intelligence forces on one side, and ruthless international terrorists on the other.  And, it puts Byron Carlos Johnson squarely in the crosshairs of both.

Pulled irresistibly by forces he can and cannot see, Johnson enters a lethal maze of espionage, manipulation, legal traps and murder. And when his life, his love, and his acclaimed principles are on the line, Johnson may have one gambit left that can save them all; a play that even his confidants could not have anticipated. He must become the hunter among hunters in the deadliest game.

Written by no-holds-barred-attorney Paul Batista, Extraordinary Rendition excels not only as an action thriller, but as a sophisticated legal procedural as well; tearing the curtains away from the nation’s most controversial issues.

Provocative. Smart. Heart-pounding. A legal thriller of the highest order.

Purchase Links:        Amazon               B&N

Watch for my review in the near future.

THANKS TO LAUREN, AT BLUE DOT LITERARY,
I HAVE ONE (1) COPY OF THIS
 LEGAL THRILLER TO
GIVE AWAY.   OPEN TO U.S. and CANADA RESIDENTS.

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or
Barnes & Noble. I am an  IndieBound affliate.
I am providing link(s) solely for visitors
that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

GUEST AUTHOR LORI FOSTER

Are you like me?  Do you want to read every new book that you see?  Your TBR list is huge? But real life interfere’s in reading time?  Wishing you don’t have to grocery shop, clean the house, bring the kids to activities, etc., etc., and wishing you could just read 24/7?  Well, here is another book to add to your list.  Liz, from Meryl L. Moss Media, contacted me and when I read the synopsis, I knew it was a book I wanted to share with you.  So please help me in welcoming, Ms Lori Foster to CMash Reads.

LORI FOSTER

Since first publishing in January 1996, Lori Fosterhas become a Waldenbooks, Borders, USA Today, Publishers Weekly and New York Times bestselling author.

Lori believes it’s important to give back to the community as much as possible, so she routinely arranges events among authors and readers to gather donations for various organizations.

GUEST POST

1.      How do you see the romance community as a whole (your readers and fellow authors)? Where do you see it in 10 years? What’s the best part about it?

The romance community has the most wonderful women and men in the entire world! Unique, friendly, open and caring. We love talking books, of course. But it’s so much more than that. It’s a rapport, a connection to the storylines, how they relate and don’t relate to real life romances, situations and circumstances. Many times readers can find a small part of themselves in the stories. That often opens a dialogue about real-life issues, the trials we have, what we survive and what we celebrate. People are so diverse that every day I hear, see, learn something new from my readers.

The current “open to the public” networking can be worrisome. So many people put their hearts out there for all the world to see. Used to be we kept our lives private and only shared certain aspects of ourselves. Now we share everything and only choose certain aspects to keep private. That’s the only downside to an otherwise amazing connection. When people share too much, they leave themselves vulnerable in so many ways. Identity theft has become a #1 worry!

But I believe societal trends are cyclical. Before my end of time, I’m sure we’ll find people pulling back and rebelling against the “tell all” mode of social networking. In the meantime, it’s just fabulous to have a forum for chatting with readers. I feel like I know so many of them, even though we’ll never meet in person.

ABOUT THE BOOK

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR LORI FOSTER goes undercover in steamy new thriller

A police detective goes undercover to investigate a murder, and his target is a mousy young lady he believes is the link he needs to solve the case. But little does he know that his plain-Jane suspect has her own secrets that will turn his case head over heels before it’s over. From award-winning author Lori Foster comes RUN THE RISK (HQN Books; October 2012; $7.99 U.S./$9.99CAN.), the first book in her brand-new original series.

When handsome construction worker Logan Riske moves next door to the dowdy young Pepper Yates, she can’t believe her luck. Her new beau has everything she wants in a guy—looks, charm, style.  He also has one thing she doesn’t even suspect—a badge.

Loganis really an undercover cop investigating the homicide of his best friend and he’s sure that the shy, introverted Pepper is concealing the whereabouts of her eyewitness brother, Rowdy.Loganneeds Rowdy’s testimony to bring crime boss Morton Andrews to justice for the murder, and he’ll go to any lengths to obtain it—even seducing Rowdy’s wallflower sister.

The longerLogan’s seductive charade goes on, however, the more he starts to see through Pepper’s drab exterior to the true beauty beneath. Despite all his training,Logancan’t stop himself from falling for Pepper.  But to warn her now will cost him any chance of trapping her brother and bringing his friend’s killer to justice. Like it or not, Logan’s going to see this masquerade through to the end, even if it costs him what he now values most—Pepper.

But Pepper Yates is no one’s fool. She and her brother have managed to survive on the run by trusting no one, especially a flirtatious neighbor with romantic intentions. Despite her undeniable attraction toLogan, Pepper isn’t about to risk her brother’s life by falling prey to her passions.

But no matter what she does, it may be too late. Rowdy is already caught in the killer’s crosshairs and Pepper knows it’s up to her to do whatever it takes to save him no matter who stands in her way…evenLogan.
Follow Lori Foster’s tour here.

Excerpt:
As if he knew her thoughts, he gave a warm laugh and stepped out of the doorway. “See you later, Sue.”

Not if I see you first. “Goodbye, Logan.” She started to close the door.

And he said, “Now that wasn’t so painful, was it?”

She clicked the door shut in his face, then dropped against it.

Painful? Not exactly.

Book Details:
RUN THE RISK
Lori Foster
HQN Books; October 2012
384 pages; $7.99 U.S./$9.99 CAN.
ISBN-13: 978-0-373-77695-5
www.LoriFoster.com

THANKS TO LIZ AT MERYL L. MOSS MEDIA/THE BOOK TRIB, I HAVE ONE (1)
COPY OF THIS BOOK TO GIVEAWAY. U.S. AND CANADA RESIDENTS ONLY

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.

Guest Author Vincent Zandri

WooHoo!!!  Heeeee’s baaack!  If you follow me, then you know how much I enjoy Vincent Zandri’s novels.  I have read every single book except one and that is waiting for me in my Kindle.  And today is super special because not only is he back to talk about one of newly published books, today he kicks off his tour with Partners In Crime Tours.  So please help me give a very warm welcome to author and friend, Vincent Zandri!!

VINCENT ZANDRI

Vincent Zandri is the No. 1 International Bestselling Amazon author of THE INNOCENT, GODCHILD, THE REMAINS, MOONLIGHT FALLS, CONCRETE PEARL, MOONLIGHT RISES, SCREAM CATCHER, BLUE MOONLIGHT and MURDER BY MOONLIGHT. He is also the author of the Amazon bestselling digital shorts, PATHOLOGICAL, TRUE STORIES and MOONLIGHT MAFIA. Harlan Coben has described THE INNOCENT (formerly As Catch Can) as “…gritty, fast-paced, lyrical and haunting,” while the New York Post called it “Sensational…Masterful…Brilliant!” Zandri’s list of publishers include Delacorte, Dell, StoneHouse Ink, StoneGate Ink and Thomas & Mercer. An MFA in Writing graduate of Vermont College, Zandri’s work is translated into many languages including the Dutch, Russian, and Japanese. An adventurer, foreign correspondent, and freelance photo-journalist for RT, Globalspec, IBTimes and more, he lives in Albany, New York. For more go to WWW.VINCENTZANDRI.COM

Visit Vin at his website, Facebook and Twitter.

Follow Vincent Zandri’s tour here and enter to win a copy of Concrete Pearl, Moonlight Rises and/or Blue Moonlight.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Now you see her. Now you don’t…

Captain Nick Angel has finally made a separate peace with the war in Afghanistan. Since having been ordered to bomb a Tajik village which resulted in the death of a little boy of no more than two, he’s been suffering from temporary bouts of blindness. Knowing the he needs time to rest and recover from his post traumatic stress, the US Army decides to send him to Venice along with his fiancee, the artist, Grace Blunt. Together they try and recapture their former life together. But when Grace suddenly goes missing, Nick not only finds himself suddenly alone and sightless in the ancient city of water, but also the number one suspect in her disappearance.

A novel that projects Hitchcockian suspense onto a backdrop of love and war, The Disappearance of Grace is a rich, literary thriller of fear, loss, love, and revenge. From the war in the Afghan mountains to the canals of romantic Venice, this is a story that proves 20/20 eyesight might not always be so perfect and seeing is not always believing.
See my review here.

Read an excerpt:

The wind picks up off the basin.
It seems to seep right through my leather coat into flesh, skin and bone. I try and hold my face up to the sun while the waiter takes our orders. Grace orders a single glass of vino russo and a pancetta and cheese panini. I forgo the Valpolicella and order a Moretti beer and a simple spaghetti pomadoro. The waiter thanks us and I listen to him leaving us for now.We sit in the calm of the early afternoon, the sounds of the boat traffic coming and going on the basin filling my ears. People surround us on all sides. Tourists who have come to San Marco for the first time and who’ve become mesmerized by it all. I don’t have to physically see them to know how they feel. The stone square, the Cathedral, the bell tower, the many shops and high- end eateries that occupy the wide, square-shaped perimeter. The pigeons. The people. Always the throngs of people coming and going amidst a chorus of bells, bellowing voices, live music emerging from trumpets, violins, and guitars, and an energetic buzz that seems to radiate up from underneath all that stone and sea-soaked soil.It’s early November.Here’s what I know about Venice: In just a few week’s’ time, the rains will come and this square will be underwater. The ever sinking Venice floods easily now. The only way to walk the square will be over hastily constructed platforms made from cobbled narrow planks. Many of the tourists will stay away and the live music will be silenced. But somehow, that’s when Venice will come alive more than ever. When the stone is bathed in water.The waiter brings our drinks and food.
With the aroma of the hot spaghetti filling my senses, I dig in and spoon up a mouthful. I wash the hot, tangy sauce-covered pasta down with a swallow of red wine.

“Whoa, slow down, chief,” Grace giggles.

“Eating, smiling, making love to me. What’s next? Writing?”

“Don’t press your luck, Gracie,” I say. “The sea change can occur at any moment. Just don’t start asking me to identify engagement rings.”

She laughs genuinely and I listen to the sounds of her taking a bite out of her sandwich. But then she goes quiet again. Too quiet, as if she’s stopped breathing altogether.

“There’s someone staring at us,” she says under her breath.

“Man or woman?” I say, trying to position my gaze directly across the table at her, but making out nothing more than her black silhouette framed against the brightness of the sun. Later on, when the sun goes down, the image of her will be entirely black. Like the blackness of the Afghan Tajik country when the fires are put out and you lie very still inside your tent without the benefit of electronic night vision, and you feel the beating of your never- still heart and you pray for morning.

“Man,” she whispers.

“What’s he look like?”

“It’s him again. The man in the overcoat who was staring at us yesterday.”

A start in my heart. I put my fork down inside my bowl. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I think. He’s wearing sunglasses this time. So,. I think it’s him.”

“What’s he look like?”

“He’s a thin man. Not tall. Not short. He’s got a dark complexion.”

“Black?”

“No. More like Asian or Middle Eastern. He’s wearing sunglasses and that same brown overcoat and a scarf. His hair is black and cut close to his scalp. His beard is very trim and cropped close to his face.” She exhales. I hear her take a quick, nervous sip of her wine. “He keeps staring at us. At me. Just like yesterday, Nick.”

“How do you know he’s staring at you? It could be something behind you, Grace. We’re in Venice. Lots going on behind you. Lots to see.”

She’s stirring in her chair. Agitated.
“Because I can feel him. His eyes…I. Feel. His. Eyes.”

I wipe my mouth clean with the cloth napkin. I do something entirely silly. I turn around in my chair to get a look at the man. As if I have the ability to see him right now, which I most definitely do not.

“What are you doing?” Grace poses, the anxiety in her voice growing more intense with each passing second.

“Trying to get a look at him.”

“You’re joking, Nick.”

I turn back, try and focus on her.

“You think?”

We sit silent.
Once more I am helpless and impotent.

“I’m sorry,” she says after a time. “I’m not trying to insult you. This isn’t like yesterday with the ring. But this man is at the same café we’re at two days in a row? This is really starting to creep me out, babe.”

My pulse begins to pump inside my head. Not rapid, but just enough for me to notice. Two steady drum beats against my temples. I find myself wanting to swallow, but my mouth has gone dry. I take a sip of beer thinking it will help.

“He’s coming towards us, Nick. I don’t like it.”

Heart beat picks up. I feel it pounding inside my head and my chest.

“Are you sure he’s coming towards us, Grace?” I’m trying not to raise my voice, but it’s next to impossible.

“He’s looking right at me. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his overcoat. And he’s coming.”

I feel and hear Grace pulling away from the table. She’s standing. That’s when the smell of incense sweeps over me. A rich, organic, incense-like smell.

There comes the sound of Grace standing. Abruptly standing. I hear her metal chair push out. I hear the sound of her boot heels on the cobbles. I hear the chair legs scraping against the stone slate. I hear the sound of her wine glass spilling.

“Grace, for God’s sakes, be careful.”

But she doesn’t respond to me. Or is it possible her voice is drowned out by what sounds like a tour group passing by the table? A tour group of Japanese speaking people. But once they pass, there is nothing. No sound at all other than the boats on the basin and the constant murmur of the thousands of tourists that fill this ancient square.

“Grace,” I say. “Grace. Stop it. This isn’t funny. Grace.”

But there’s still no response.
The smell of incense is gone now.
I make out the gulls flying over the tables, the birds shooting in from the basin to pick up scraps of food and then, like thieves in the night, shooting back out over the water. I can hear and feel the sound-wave driven music that reverberates against the stone cathedral.

“Grace,” I repeat, voice louder now. “Grace. Grace…Grace!”

I’m getting no response.

It’s like she’s gone. Vanished. But how can she be gone? She was just sitting here with me. She was sitting directly across from me, eating a sandwich and drinking a glass of wine. She was talking with me.
The waiter approaches.

“The signora is not liking her food?” he questions.

I reach out across the table. In the place where she was sitting. She is definitely not there.

“Is there a toilet close by?” I pose. “Did you see my fiancée leave the table and go to the toilet?”

The waiter pauses for a moment.

“I am sorry. But I did not. I was inside the café.”

“Then maybe somebody else saw her. Maybe you can ask them.”

“Signor, there are many tables in this café and they are all filled with people. And there are many people who walk amongst the tables who can block their view. I am looking at them. No one seems to be concerned about anything. Sometimes there are so many people here, it is easy to get lost. Perhaps she just went to the toilet like you just suggested, and she got lost amongst the people. I will come back in moment and make sure all is well.”

I listen to the waiter leaving, his footsteps fading against the slate.
Grace didn’t say anything about going to the toilet or anywhere else. Grace was frightened. She was frightened of a man who was staring at her. A man with sunglasses on and a cropped beard and a long brown overcoat. He was the man from yesterday. The man with black eyes. He was approaching us, this man. He came to our table and he smelled strongly of incense. He came to our table. There was a slight commotion, the spilling of a glass, the knocking over of a chair, and then Grace was gone.

I sit and stare at nothing. My heart is pounding so fast I think it will cease at any moment. What I have in the place of vision is a blank wall of blurry illumination no longer filled with the silhouette of my Grace.

I push out my chair. Stand. My legs knock into the table and my glass spills along with Grace’s.

I cup my hands around my mouth.

“Grace!” I shout. “Grace! Grace!”

The people who surround me all grow quiet as I scream over them.

The waiter comes running back over.

“Please, please,” he says to me, taking me by the arm. “Please come with me.”

He begins leading me through the throng of tables and people. He is what I have now in the place of Grace. He is my sight.

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” I beg. “Did you check the toilets?”

“We checked the toilets. They are empty. I am sorry. I am sure there is an explanation.”

“Grace is gone!” I shout. “A man took her away. How could no one have seen it?”

“You’re frightening the patrons, signor. Please just come with me and we will try and find her.”

“She’s gone,” I repeat. “Don’t you understand me? My. Grace. Is. Gone.”

Purchase links:    AMAZON link    B&N link

 

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or
Barnes & Noble.  I am an IndieBound affliate.
I am providing link(s) solely for visitors
that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Guest Author A.J. Scudiere

It’s  old friend’s day.  Which only means, a new book has been written.  And A.J. is stopping back to tell us all about it.  So without further ado, Ms. A.J. Scudiere!!

A.J.  SCUDIERE

AJ Scudiere lives in a world where texture reigns supreme. Whether it’s air or virus or even location, it can be felt and smelled. At heart a biologist and avid student, AJ writes about the possibilities that keep us up late at night. The dark writer lives outside Nashville in an idyllic setting full of wildlife and open spaces.

The author has three suspense novels, Resonance, Vengeance, and God’s Eye. The fourth novel—Phoenix—is due out this fall.

At heart a biologist and avid student, AJ writes about the possibilities that keep us up late at night. Previous novels have won A Booky—top ten fiction novel of 2011, multiple Best Audio Fiction of the Year awards, and garnered 2 Audie Nominations.

The author has three suspense novels, Resonance, Vengeance, and God’s Eye. The fourth novel—Phoenix—is due out this fall.

GUEST POST

What makes a reader stay up all night with a good book?

 There are a thousand different answers to that question and really only one: a character you care about and a good story.

When we talk about suspense novels (thrillers), we can define that even more. We now need a character we want to root for and a plot that convinces us something is very wrong here. One easy way to create this plot is to put our character in danger, the sooner the better! We can also let him walk around unknowing, while you—the reader—can see what he can’t.

Why do you like a character? Well, we all have our pet peeves, and when an author crosses that line, you probably won’t read further. But for the most part you have to either relate to or care for the character. All of us are different, so what we relate to will be different. For me, making the character as richly written as possible helps with this. One dimensional characters catch only readers who share that dimension in some way, depth means the reader can see more and therefore find more to latch onto.

For me, a plot has to have some level of reality to it. I’m not saying I’m against Fantasy or SciFi (my first novel was SciFi!) but as a reader—and therefore as a writer—I dislike plot points that simply happen. If a story needs an earthquake that shakes Florida to its core, or if New Yorkers suddenly riot and take over the city, it has to be believable. I need to buy in before I’ll read about a toddler on the quest for a holy grail. As a writer, it becomes my job to build that world for you. A world that makes you just a little concerned about the ground beneath your feet in Florida; one that makes you look sideways at New Yorkers . . . or toddlers!

What makes a good solid thriller is answers. You need your questions answered. Where is the killer going to strike next? What is the toddler going to do with that chalice? But what makes a great thriller is getting the satisfaction of figuring out the answer for one thing, while another question is arising. That’s what gets you involved. That’s what keeps you up at night when you have something to do early the next day. It’s what makes you wonder ‘what’s going to happen next?’ And that’s my job: to give you characters you understand. To give you a story that keeps you on your toes. To make you say ‘just one more chapter.’

ABOUT THE BOOK

Jason Mondy’s world is unraveling.

His seemingly secure job as a fire fighter is suddenly thrown into chaos.
The bright spot in his week is that he rescued two children from a house fire,
but he returns home that night to find all his furniture is missing.
His girlfriend has left him without warning and his nightmares keep him from sleeping.
Even just a simple trip home to find some rest leads his adoptive mother to sit him down
and tell him that maybe his troubles aren’t quite as innocuous as they seem.
Then she divulges a secret she’s kept for over twenty-six years . . .

Jason has a brother he doesn’t remember existed.

He doesn’t remember his life before he was adopted at age seven.
He only knows that he was rescued from the fire that took his birth mother’s life.
But the story is deeper than that, and the foundation on which he built his world is now cracking.
The brother he doesn’t remember it out there somewhere, left behind.

Armed with only this stunning new piece of information,
Jason embarks on a quest to find the truths buried deep in his past.
As he searches, one by one the pieces of his life fall like dominoes.
And the more he uncovers, the more everything he thought he knew
about himself and his past
begins to turn to ash.

His truth isn’t true at all . . .

THANKS TO SAMANTHA, JKS COMMUNICATIONS,
I HAVE
 THREE (3) SIGNED COPIES OF THIS BOOK,
ALONG WITH A HAT, TO GIVEAWAY. U.S. RESIDENTS ONLY.

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

DISCLAIMER
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.

Guest Author Ethan Cross

Don’t you just love when authors come back and visit your blog?  It means that they have another book to tell us about.  Mr. Cross was here back in March of 2011.  But today,  for me, it is even more exciting for a few reasons.  Not only does it mean that you will get to read about his book, but he is returning today at the request of The Story Plant as he kicks off his virtual tour with Partners In Crime Tours. But before I introduce this amazing writer, I would like to thank Mr. Aronica, publisher of The Story Plant.  I have been reviewing this company’s novels from the time I first went public with this blog and can honestly say, that every author and book I have read under this imprint, has been added to my “authors to read list”.  I invite you to visit The Story Plant, and see for yourself , the phenomenal authors and titles they have.  And now, I ask you to help me welcome Mr. Ethan Cross!

ETHAN CROSS

When a fireman or a policeman would visit his school, most of his classmates’ heads would swim with aspirations of growing up and catching bad guys or saving someone from a blazing inferno. When these moments came for Ethan Cross, however, his dreams weren’t to someday be a cop or put out fires; he just wanted to write about it. His dream of telling stories on a grand scale came to fruition with the release of his first novel, the international bestseller, THE SHEPHERD.

Ethan Cross is the pen name of a thriller author living and writ- ing in Illinois with his wife, two daughters, and two Shih Tzus. In addition to The Shepherd and The Prophet, he has published two no- vellas––The Cage and Callsign: Knight (with Jeremy Robinson).
Connect with the author at his website, Facebook and Twitter.

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

OLD ENEMIES…
Francis Ackerman Jr. is one of America’s most prolific serial killers. Having kept a low profile for the past year, he is ready to return to work – and he’s more brutal, cunning, and dangerous than ever.

NEW THREATS…
Scarred from their past battles, Special Agent Marcus Williams cannot shake Ackerman from his mind. But now Marcus must focus on catching the Anarchist, a new killer who drugs and kidnaps women before burning them alive.

HIDDEN TERRORS…
Marcus knows the Anarchist will strike again soon. And Ackerman is still free. But worse than this is a mysterious figure, unknown to the authorities, who controls the actions of the Anarchist and many like him. He is the Prophet – and his plans are more terrible than even his own disciples can imagine.

With attacks coming from every side, Marcus faces a race against time to save the lives of a group of innocent people chosen as sacrifices in the Prophet’s final dark ritual.
Read my review here.

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER ONEFrancis Ackerman Jr. stared out the window of the dark copper and white bungalow on Macarthur Boulevard. Across the street, a green sign with yellow letters read Mosswood Playground – Oakland Recreation Department. Children laughed and played while mothers and fathers pushed swings and sat on benches reading paperback novels or fiddling with cell phones. He had never experienced such things as a child. The only games his father ever played were the kind that scarred the body and soul. He had never been nurtured; he had never been loved. But he had come to accept that. He had found purpose and meaning born from the pain and chaos that had consumed his life.

He watched the sun reflect off all the smiling faces and imagined how different the scene would be if the sun suddenly burned out and fell from the heavens. The cleansing cold of an everlasting winter would sweep across the land, cleansing it, purifying it. He pictured the faces forever etched in torment, their screams silent, and their eyes like two crystal balls reflecting what lay beyond death.

He let out a long sigh. It would be beautiful. He wondered if normal people ever thought of such things. He wondered if they ever found beauty in death.

Ackerman turned back to the three people bound to chairs in the room behind him. The first two were men—plain-clothes cops that had been watching the house. The older officer had a pencil-thin mustache and thinning brown hair while his younger counterpart’s head was topped with a greasy mop of dark black. The younger man’s bushy eyebrows matched his hair, and a hooked nose sat above thin pink lips and a recessed chin. The first man struck Ackerman to be like any other cop he had met, honest and hard-working. But there was something about the younger man he didn’t like, something in his eyes. He suppressed the urge to smack the condescending little snarl from the younger cop’s ferret-like face.

But instead of hitting him, Ackerman just smiled at the cop. He needed a demonstration to get the information he needed, and the ferret would be perfect. His eyes held the ferret’s gaze a moment longer, and then he winked and turned to the last of his three captives.

Rosemary Phillips wore a faded Oakland Raiders sweatshirt. She had salt and pepper hair, and ancient pock marks marred her smooth dark chocolate complexion. Her eyes burned with a self-assurance and inner strength that Ackerman respected.

Unfortunately, he needed to find her grandson, and if necessary, he would kill all three of them to accomplish his goal.

He reached up to her mouth and pulled down the gag. She didn’t scream. “Hello, Rosemary. I apologize that I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier when I tied you up, but my name is Francis Ackerman Jr. Have you ever heard of me?”

Rosemary met his gaze. “I’ve seen you on television. You’re the serial killer whose father experimented on him as a child, trying to prove that he could create a monster. I guess he succeeded. But I’m not afraid of you.”

Ackerman smiled. “That’s wonderful. It means that I can skip the introductions and get straight to the point. Do you know why I asked these two gentleman to join us?”

Rosemary’s head swiveled toward the two officers. Her gaze lingered on the ferret. Ackerman saw disgust in her eyes. Apparently, she didn’t like him either. That would make things even more interesting once he started to torture the young cop.

“I’ve seen these two around,” she said. “I’ve already told the cops that my grandson ain’t no damn fool. He wouldn’t just show up here, and I haven’t heard from him since this mess started. But they wouldn’t listen. Apparently they think it’s a good idea to stake out an old lady’s house instead of being out there on the streets doing what the people of this city pay them to do. Typical government at work.”

Ackerman smiled. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve never had much respect for authority. But you see, I’m looking for your grandson as well. I, however, don’t have the time or patience to sit around here on the off chance that he might show up. I prefer the direct approach, and so I’m going to ask you to level with me. Where can I find your grandson?”

“Like I told them, I have no idea.”

He walked over to a tall, mahogany hutch resting against the wall. It was old and well-built. Family pictures lined its surface and shelves. He picked up a picture of a smiling young black man with his arm around Rosemary. A blue and gold birthday cake sat in front of them. “Rosemary, I’ve done my homework, and I’ve learned that your grandson thinks the world of you. You were his anchor in the storm. Maybe the one good thing in his life. The one person who loved him. You know where he’s hiding, and you are going to share that information with me. One way or another.”

“Why do you even care? What’s he to you?”

“He’s nothing to me. I could care less about your grandson. But someone that I do care about is looking for him, and I try to be useful where I can. And like you said, sometimes bureaucracy and red tape are just too damn slow. We’re going to speed along the process.”

Rosemary shook her head and tugged on the ropes. “I don’t know where he is, and if I did, I’d never tell a monster like you.”

His father’s words tumbled through his mind.

You’re a monster…Kill her and the pain will stop…No one will ever love you…

“Oh, my dear, words hurt. But you’re right. I am a monster.”

Ackerman grabbed a duffle bag from the floor and tossed it onto a small end table. As he unzipped the bag and rifled through the contents, he said, “Are you familiar with the Spanish Inquisition? I’ve been reading a lot about it lately. It’s a fascinating period of history. The Inquisition was basically a tribunal established by Catholic monarchs Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I of Castile in order to maintain Catholic orthodoxy within their kingdoms, especially among the new converts from Judaism and Islam. But that’s not what fascinates me. What fascinates me are the unspeakable acts of barbarism and torture that were carried out in the name of God upon those deemed to be heretics. We think that we live in a brutal age, but our memories are very short-sighted. Any true student of history can tell you that this is the age of enlightenment compared to other periods throughout time. The things the inquisitors did to wrench confessions from their victims was nothing less than extraordinary. Those inquisitors displayed fabulous imagination.”

Ackerman brought a strange device up out of the duffle bag. “This is an antique. It’s previous owner claimed that it’s an exact replica of one used during the Inquisition. You’ve got to love Ebay.”

He held up the device—built from two large, spiked blocks of wood connected by two threaded metal rods an inch in diameter each—for their inspection. “This was referred to as the Knee Splitter. Although it was used on more than just knees. When the inquisitor would turn these screws, the two blocks would push closer together and the spikes would first pierce the flesh of the victim. Then the inquisitor would continue to twist the screws tighter and tighter until they received the answers they wanted or until the affected appendage was rendered useless.”

Rosemary spit at him. As she spoke, her words were strong and confident. He detected a slight hint of a Georgian accent and suspected that it was from her youth and only presented itself when she was especially flustered. “You’re going to kill us anyway. No matter what I do. I can’t save these men anymore than I can save myself. The only thing that I can control is the way that I go out. And I won’t grovel and beg to the likes of you. I won’t give you the satisfaction.”

He nodded. “I respect that. So many people blame the world or society or others for the way that they are. But we’re all victims of circumstance to a certain extent. We like to think that we’re in control of our own destinies, but the truth is that much of our lives are dictated by forces far beyond our control and comprehension. We all have our strings pulled by someone or something. It’s unavoidable. The only place that we have any real control is right here.” He tapped the tip of his fifteen-inch survival knife against his right temple. “Within our minds. Most people don’t understand that, but you do. I didn’t come here to kill you, Rosemary. It will give me no pleasure to remove you from the world. But my strings get pulled just like everyone else’s. In this case, circumstances dictate that I hurt you and these men in order to achieve my goal. I’m good at what I do, my dear. I’ve been schooled in pain and suffering my entire life. Time will only allow me to share a small portion of my expertise with you, but I can tell you that it will be enough. You will tell me. That’s beyond your control. The only aspect of this situation that you can influence is the duration of the suffering you must endure. So I’ll ask again, where is your grandson?”

Her lips trembled, but she didn’t speak.

The smell of cinnamon permeated the air but was unable to mask a feral aroma of sweat and fear. Ackerman had missed that smell. He had missed the fear, the power. But he needed to keep himself contained. He couldn’t lose control. This was about information, not about satisfying his own hunger.

“Time to begin. As they say, I’m going to put the screws to this officer. Makes you wonder if this device is responsible for such a saying, doesn’t it?”

~~*~~

After several moments of enjoyment with his new toy, Ackerman looked at Rosemary, but she had diverted her gaze. He twisted the handles again, and the officer’s thrashing increased.

“Okay, I’ll tell you!” she said. “He’s in Spokane, Washington. They’re set up in an abandoned metal working shop of some kind. Some crooked realtor set it up for them. I’ve tried to get him to turn himself in. I even consider calling the police myself, but I know that he and his friends won’t allow themselves to be captured alive. He’s the only family I have left.” Tears ran down her cheeks.

Ackerman reached down and twisted the pressure from the officer’s legs. The man’s head fell back against the chair. “Thank you. I believe you, and I appreciate your situation. Your grandson has been a bad boy. But he’s your flesh and blood, and you still love him.”

He walked over to the table and pulled up another chair in front of Rosemary. As he sat, he pulled out a small notepad. It was spiral-bound from the top with a blood red cover. “Since you’ve been so forthcoming with me and out of respect, I’ll give you a genuine chance to save your lives.” He flipped up the notepad’s cover, retrieved a small pen from within the spiral, and started to write. As the pen traveled over the page, he said, “I’m going to let you pick the outcome of our little game. On this first sheet, I’ve written ‘ferret’ to represent our first officer.” He tore off the page, wadded it up, and placed it between his legs. “On the second, we’ll write ‘Jackie Gleason’ to represent the next officer. Then Rosemary. Then all live. And all die.”

He stirred up the wadded pieces of paper and placed them on the floor in front of her. “I think the game is self-explanatory, but to make sure that there’s no confusion, you pick the piece of paper, and I kill whoever’s name is on it. But you do have a twenty percent chance that you all live. And just to be clear, if you refuse to pick or take too long, I’ll be happy to kill all three of you. So please don’t try to fight fate. The only thing you have control over here is which piece of paper you choose. Have no illusions that you have other options. It will only serve in making the situation even less manageable for you. Pick one.”

Rosemary’s eyes were full of hate. They burrowed into him. Her gaze didn’t waver. A doctor named Kendrick from the Cedar Mill Psychiatric Hospital had once told Ackerman that he had damage to a group of interconnected brain structures, known as the paralimbic system, that were involved in processing emotion, goal seeking, motivation, and self-control. The doctor had studied his brain using functional magnetic resonance imaging technology and had also found damage to an area known as the amygdala that generated emotions such as fear. Monkeys in the wild with damage to the amygdala had been known to walk right up to people or even predators. The doctor had said this explained why Ackerman didn’t feel fear in the way that other people did. He wondered if Rosemary had a similar impairment or if her strength originated from somewhere else entirely.

She looked down at the sheets of paper then back into his eyes. “Third one. The one right in the center.”

He reached down and uncrumpled the small piece of paper. He smiled. “It’s your lucky day. You all get to live. I’m sorry that you had to endure this due to the actions of someone else. But as I said, we’re all victims of circumstance.”

Then he stood, retrieved his things, and exited onto Macarthur Boulevard.

~~*~~

Ackerman tossed his duffle bag into the trunk of a light-blue Ford Focus. He wished he could travel in more style, but the ability to blend outweighed his own sense of flare. He pulled open the driver’s door, slipped inside, and dropped some jewelry and the wallets and purse of his former captives on the seat next to him. He hated to lower himself to common thievery, but everything cost money. And his skill set didn’t exactly look good on a resume. Besides, he didn’t have time for such things.

He retrieved a disposable cell phone from the glove box and activated the device. As he dialed and pressed send, he looked down at the small slip of paper that Rosemary had chosen. The words All Die stared back at him.

After a few rings, the call connected, and the voice on the other end said, “What do you want?”

Ackerman smiled. “Hello, Marcus. Please forgive me, for I have sinned. But I do it all for you.”

Purchase links: Amazon     B&N     IndieBound

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or
Barnes & Noble.  I am an IndieBound affliate.
I am providing link(s) solely for visitors
that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.