Can these books help someone you know?

CMash May 10, 2014 Leave a Comment

Spring has arrived! And with it comes warmer weather, flowers blooming and graduations!!!!

I received the following information in a newsletter that I subscribe to and wanted to share it with you. The author, Giacomo Giammatteo is not only an awesome author when it comes to fiction (Murder Takes Time, A Bullet For Carlos, Murder Has Consequences and more) but also non fiction.

Many young adults will be graduating college with a diploma in hand, and most likely, a lot of debt. The sad thing is, with the economy, there aren’t that many jobs available.

I think that these books would be the perfect graduation gift. Can they help someone you know?

No Mistakes Interviews…
…will teach you how to:
• Prepare for the interview.
• Identify the company’s primary need.
• Assess your skills as they relate to that need.
• Sell yourself as the solution.
No Mistakes Interviews will help you get the job you want.

BOOK DETAILS:

No Mistakes Careers
Number of Pages: 142 pages
Publisher: Inferno Publishing Company; 1 edition
Publication Date: February 21, 2014
ISBN-10: 1940313058
ISBN-13: 978-1940313054

PURCHASE LINKS:

Warning, reading this book might get you a new job.

If you’ve ever wondered why you didn’t get called for an interview—when you knew you fit the job—this book will explain why. Learn how to…
Keep your resume out of the trash!
◆ Discover the secret to a perfect resume.
◆ Learn the three most important parts of a resume.
◆ Find out how to get the hiring manager’s attention
◆ Learn which sections of your resume can put it in the trash.
◆ Uncover the magnificence of a perfect cover letter.

What makes me qualified to write this book?
I have been a headhunter for more than 30 years, and I have evaluated, screened, and edited a gazillion resumes. I know a gazillion sounds like a lot, and maybe it wasn’t quite a gazillion, but it was a lot of resumes. (more than a few dozen for sure)

I see people make the same mistakes over and over again. Mistakes that keep them from being considered for the jobs they want. That’s why I wrote this book—to help people get the jobs they really want.

So what are you waiting for? Want to know how to get that interview? Get the No Mistakes Resumes book. (It only costs about 2 cups of coffee.)

No Mistakes Resumes. Change your life today!

Danger! This book contains sarcasm, humor, and damn good information.

BOOK DETAILS:

Series: No Mistakes Careers
Number of Pages: 110 pages
Publisher: Inferno Publishing Company
Publication Date: June 11, 2013
ISBN-10: 1940313007
ISBN-13: 978-1940313009

PURCHASE LINKS:

Giacomo Giammatteo

I live in Texas now, but I grew up in Cleland Heights, a mixed ethnic neighborhood in Wilmington, Delaware that sat on the fringes of the Italian, Irish and Polish neighborhoods. The main characters of Murder Takes Time grew up in Cleland Heights too, and many of the scenes in the book were taken from real-life experiences.

Somehow I survived the transition to adulthood, but when my kids were young I left the Northeast and settled in Texas, where my wife suggested we get a few animals. I should have known better; we now have a full-blown animal sanctuary with rescues from all over.

At last count we had 41 animals—12 dogs, a horse, a three-legged cat and 26 pigs.

Oh, and one crazy—and very large—wild boar, who takes walks with me every day and happens to also be my best buddy.

Since this is a bio some of you might wonder what I do. By day I am a headhunter, scouring the country for top talent to fill jobs in the biotech and medical device industry. In the evening I help my wife tend the animals, and at night—late at night—I turn into a writer.
Connect with NAME at these sites:

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 affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Guest Author, Showcase

THE WORLD BELOW by Mike Phillips

CMash May 9, 2014 Leave a Comment

In ancient times, magical creatures inhabited the earth. They lived on mountaintops, in trees, at the bottom of lakes and rivers. But that was long ago, before the human race declared war on the creatures they feared and hated. Now the enchanted peoples are all but gone. Those few that remain fear being stretched out on an examination table in some secret, governmental facility. The only place they can hide from the ever increasing number of satellites and smart phones is in the World Below.
Mitch Hardy is going through a hard time in his life. In his early twenties, he was working his way through college when he suffered an accident that left him flat broke and physically deformed. When Mitch decides to make a fresh start in a new town, things start looking up. He finds a place to live, a decent job, good friends. He even meets a nice girl. Unknown to Mitch, his new girlfriend is one of the Elder Race, what some call the Faerie Folk. Mitch doesn’t know that Elizabeth is looking for a father she never knew. The key to finding him is somehow tied up with the mysterious Blade of Caro. Desperate, she steals the Blade from its protector, the despotic ruler of the World Below, the Dragon of Worms, Baron Finkbeiner. When Elizabeth is kidnapped by the Baron, Mitch is pulled into a world or magic and monsters he never imagined.

BOOK DETAILS:

Number of Pages: 206 pages
Publisher: Damnation Books, LLC
Publication Date: March 1, 2013
ISBN-10: 1615728864
ISBN-13: 978-1615728862

PURCHASE LINKS:

Mike Phillips grew up on a small farm in West Michigan, living much the way people did at the turn of the century. Whether it was growing fruits and vegetables or raising livestock, Mike learned the value of hard work and responsibility at a young age.

While his friends spent their summers watching reruns of bad sitcoms, Mike’s father gave him a very special gift. He turned off the television. With what was affectionately referred to as “the idiot box” no longer a distraction, Mike was left to discover the fantastic worlds that only exist in books. When not tending sheep, gardening, building furniture, chopping wood, or just goofing off, Mike spent his time reading.

With all that hard work at home, Mike was always eager to go to school. He excelled as a student and went on to pursue a career in the sciences. Working as a Safety Engineer in the Insurance Industry, Mike soon became bored with the corporate grind. Writing engaged him like nothing else. After a few novels and numerous short stories, he thought getting published would be a pretty neat idea. And so, here it goes…
Connect with Mike at these sites:

GUEST POST

Hello everyone, and thank you for reading my guest post. My name is Mike Phillips and my new book is The World Below. I was asked to talk a little about my experiences as a writer, so I thought I’d start at the beginning. I was raised on a small farm in west Michigan. As a child, my family and I grew our own fruits and vegetables and meat. We heated our house with wood. We even made most of our own furniture. During the summer, my father turned off “The Idiot Box” and took us to the library. When not pulling weeds, repairing fences, tending livestock, or just goofing off, I spent my time reading. That’s where my love of a good story came from. When I went off to college, I chose a career in engineering. My first real job, however, bored me to tears. Before the year was out, I started writing short stories just as something to occupy myself. I had no intention of trying to make a career out of writing. Nothing was further from my mind. Well, one story led to the next and I enjoyed the process so much that I thought I might try a novel. That’s a huge undertaking and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I loved every minute of it. I really loved the work. That first novel is still tucked safely away on my hard drive, never to be seen, but it did light a fire in my heart. Reign of the Nightmare Prince was completed the following year and was my first published novel. Now I have two published novels with a third on the way and a ton of short stories that have appeared everywhere in print and online. But the level of success I have been able to achieve in writing hasn’t been easy. I’ve had a lot of ups and downs. Just when I think everything is going great, something bad happens. At different times, I had contracts with a half dozen book publishers that went out of business, and my books never got published. For a while I thought I might be a jinx. Unfortunately, I’ve had much the same kind of luck with agents. There were many times when I felt like giving up. I’m glad now that I didn’t. Life is so weird. If you have a dream, stick to it and see what happens. Thank you so much for joining us. I hope you enjoy The World Below. Please visit me at mikephillipsfantasy.com.

Watch the trailer

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 affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Guest Author, Showcase, The Book Trib/Media Muscle

WHEN WE MET by Susan Mallery showcase & giveaway

CMash May 8, 2014 Leave a Comment

Angel Whittaker earned his scars the hard way, but the scars that can’t be seen are the ones that haunt him the most. Since he moved to Fool’s Gold, California, he’s cobbled together a life for himself as a bodyguard trainer. If he’s not exactly happy, at least his heart is safe.

Working with pro-football superstars taught tough-talking PR woman Taryn Crawford one thing—she can go toe-to-toe with any man. But then dark, dangerous former Special Ops Angel targets her for seduction…and challenges her to resist his tempting kisses.

Even in four-inch heels, Taryn never backs down. Unless, somehow, Angel can convince her that surrender might feel even better than victory.

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

“We both know where this is going.”

Taryn Crawford glanced up at the man standing by her table and ignored the rush of anticipation when she saw who he was. He was tall, with broad shoulders and gray eyes. But the most compelling feature—the one she would guess people pretended didn’t exist—was the scar on his neck. As if someone had once tried to slit his throat. Taryn idly wondered what had happened to the person who failed.

She supposed there were plenty of women who would be intimidated by the man in front of her. The sheer volume of muscle he had might make someone apprehensive. Not her, of course. When in doubt she put on a power suit and killer heels. If those failed her, she would simply work harder than anyone else. Whatever it took to win. Sure, there was a price, but she was okay with that.

Which was why she was able to stare coolly back and ask, “Do we?”

One former of his mouth curved slightly in a sort of half smile.

“Sure, but if you’re more comfortable pretending we don’t, I can make that work, too.”

“A challenge. Intriguing. You don’t expect that to be enough to make me defensive so I start saying more than I had planned, do you?” She made sure she was plenty relaxed in her chair. She would guess the man was paying as much attention to her body language as her words. Maybe more. She hoped he wouldn’t make things easy. She was tired of easy.

“I would hate for you to be disappointed,” she murmured.

The smile turned genuine. “I’d hate that, too.” He pulled out the chair opposite hers. “May I?”

She nodded. He sat.

It was barely after ten on a Tuesday morning. Brew-haha, the local coffee place she’d escaped to for a few minutes of solitude before she returned to the current chaos at her office, was relatively quiet. She’d ordered a latte and had pulled out her tablet to catch up on the latest financial news. Until she’d been interrupted. Nice to know this was going to be a good day.

She studied the man across from her. He was older than the boys, she thought. The three men she worked with—Jack, Sam and Kenny, aka “the boys” –were all in their early to mid-thirties. Her guest was nearer to forty. Just old enough to have the experience to make things intriguing, she thought.

“We’ve never been introduced,” she said.

“You know who I am.”

A statement, not a question. “Do I?”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Angel Whittaker. I work at CDS.”

Otherwise known as the bodyguard school, she reminded herself.

For a small town, Fool’s Gold had its share of unusual businesses.

“Taryn Crawford.”

She waited, but he didn’t make a move.

“We’re not shaking hands?” she asked, then picked up her latte with both hers. Just to be difficult, because being difficult would make things more fun.

“I figured we’d save the touching for later. I find it’s better when that sort of thing happens in private.”

Taryn had opened Score, her PR firm, eight years ago. She’d had to deal with unwelcome passes, assumptions she was an idiot, being asked who the boss was, pats on her butt and people presuming that if she worked with three ex-football players, she must have gotten her job by sleeping with them. She was used to staying calm, keeping her opinions to herself and gaining victory through the unanticipated side run.

This time Angel had been the one to put the first points on the board. He was good, she thought, intrigued and only slightly miffed.

“Are you coming on to me, Mr. Whittaker? Because it’s still a little early in the morning for that sort of thing.”

“You’ll know when I’m making my move,” he informed her. “Right now I’m simply telling you how things are.”

“Which takes us back to your comment that we both know where this is going. I’ll admit to being confused. Perhaps you have me mixed up with someone else.”

She uncrossed, then recrossed her long legs. She wasn’t trying to be provocative, but if Angel got distracted, it was hardly her fault.

For a second she allowed herself to wonder how she would have been different if she’d been able to grow up in a more traditional home. One with the requisite 2.5 children and somewhat normal parents. She certainly wouldn’t be as driven. Or as tough. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

He leaned toward her. “I hadn’t taken you for the type to play games.”

“We all play games,” she told him.

“Fair enough. Then I’ll be blunt.”

She sipped her coffee, then swallowed. “Please.”

“I saw you last fall.”

“How nice,” she murmured.

When she’d been scouting locations. Moving a company required time and effort. They’d only truly settled in Fool’s Gold a couple of months ago. But she had been in town the previous fall, and yes, she’d seen Angel, as well. Found out who he was and had wondered about…possibilities. Not that she was going to admit that to him.

“I watched you,” he continued.

“Should I be concerned you’re a stalker?”

“Not when you were watching me right back.”

He’d noticed? Damn. She’d tried to be subtle. She thought about lying but decided to simply stay silent. After a second, he continued.

“So we’ve finished sizing each other up,” he said. “Now it’s time to move on to the next phase of the game.”

BOOK DETAILS:

Series: Fool’s Gold (Book 13)
Number of Pages: 352 pages
Publisher: Harlequin HQN
Publication Date: April 29, 2014
ISBN-10: 0373778651
ISBN-13: 978-0373778652

PURCHASE LINKS:

SUSAN MALLERY is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than 80 novels, with more than 25 million books sold worldwide. Mallery is known for creating characters who feel as real as the folks next door, and for putting them into emotional, often funny situations readers recognize from their own lives. Susan’s books have made Booklist’s Top 10 Romances list in four out of five consecutive years. RT Book Reviews says, “When it comes to heartfelt contemporary romance, Mallery is in a class by herself.” With her popular, ongoing Fool’s Gold series, Susan has reached new heights on the bestsellers lists and has won the hearts of countless new fans. Susan grew up in southern California, moved so many times that her friends stopped writing her address in pen, and now has settled in Seattle with her husband and the most delightfully spoiled little dog who ever lived.
Connect with Susan at these sites:

Q&A with Susan Mallery

WHEN WE MET’s hero Angel Whittaker appeared in your 2005 book Living on the Edge. What made you decide to bring him back?
I never forgot about Angel, and I always knew I’d write a book for him when I found the perfect woman for him. When I started brainstorming this year’s Fool’s Gold romances, Taryn Crawford came to me. She’s a very powerful, confident, self-made woman. She started her PR firm from nothing, and she is the clear leader over her three NFL-star partners. She needed a man who was equally strong, someone who would stand up to her when need be, and someone who would cherish and protect her when she wasn’t feeling all that strong. Angel, who’d been hovering in my subconscious for years, stepped forward and claimed her.

The idea was a little disconcerting, to be honest, because Living on the Edge is a romantic suspense, and Fool’s Gold is sooooo not a suspense-y series. Which meant Angel, this very serious, hard-core sniper type was going to have to move to a quirky small town in California. I paired him up with buddies from the military who opened a bodyguard academy in Fool’s Gold last year.

Angel grew up in a small town, so in some ways, Fool’s Gold felt very familiar to him right away. After a few months of living there, he decides that he wants to give something back, to contribute, because that’s what people do in small towns. A decision he lives to regret… the project assigned to him by the all-knowing Mayor Marsha isn’t exactly what he has in mind. I think readers are going to really laugh when they see what he’s gotten himself into. Fortunately, Taryn will help him over the rough spots.

What book would you love to take a weekend vacation inside of?
I’d love to spend a weekend on Debbie Macomber’s Blossom Street. I wouldn’t even have to travel far—I live in Seattle, where that series is set. I’m hopeless at knitting, but since this is fantasy, let’s pretend that I’d whip up a gorgeous sweater during my weekend visit.

With the release of WHEN WE MET, as you look back, what was the biggest surprise that occurred while you were writing the story?
I was a little surprised by how hot things got between Angel and Taryn. I tend to write sexy, but Angel and Taryn are a little older than my typical hero and heroine—40 and 34, respectively—and significantly more experienced. They know what they want, and they’re not afraid to ask for it. There were times when these two were so in-your-face with their sexy repartee that I was sort of gasping and laughing as I wrote.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve had to face or as a writer? How did you overcome it?
The hardest part of what I do is making sure each book is better than the one before. In the beginning, when I was still learning, it was pretty easy to improve. But now, after over 100 books, it’s challenging. But that’s always the goal. That the characters are more real, the dialogue funnier, that the story draws you in even faster. There’s not a single day that I sit down to write without thinking about how to do it better than I did yesterday.

You wrote in a recent Facebook post that you started writing a new Fool’s Gold book for 2015 and rewrote the beginning a few times because you didn’t know the heroine well enough yet. Can you explain this process and how you are able to finally get to “know” the character you’re writing?
I first start thinking about a book somewhere around 18 months to two years before it’s released. This is particularly true with a series like Fool’s Gold. I need to know what’s coming so that I can set up the stories in advance, so the characters feel naturally integrated into the town.

When I’m ready to really get started, I write until the characters click for me, usually about a chapter. I have to know who they are so that I can know how they will react to whatever might happen in the book. Once I know them, I stop writing and thoroughly plot the story.

Because of all the prep work, once I get to the actual writing of the book, I can write pretty fast. But it’s kind of like when you ask an artist how long it took them to create a beautiful painting—a few hours… plus years of practice and study.

You often turn to your fans to help you come up with names for your characters. What makes you decide to do this and how do you pick?
Oh, I loooooove asking my friends at facebook.com/susanmallery to help me brainstorm, whether it be character names, business names, or even country music song titles for a heroine who will be coming to Fool’s Gold next year! Sometimes a character comes to me complete with a name, but mostly, they come with heart and soul, and I have to think of a name. I could easily look at naming websites for ideas, but I think my Facebook friends love being involved, and it’s fun for me to see what they come up with. I choose the name that I think best suits the heart and soul of the character in my head. Whenever possible, I give that character the last name of the reader who suggested the first name I selected.

If WHEN WE MET were made into a movie, who would you have play Angel Whittaker and Taryn Crawford?
Have you heard of an actor named Sullivan Stapleton? He’s British, but with an American accent, he’d be perfect as Angel. Tall and dark, with a dangerous edge. His pale gray eyes are almost hypnotizing, like the cobra in Jungle Book. Except, you know, sexy guy, not at all a snake.

For Taryn, I’ll go with Sandra Bullock. Taryn’s a high-powered fashion plate. She likes what she likes, she wants what she wants, and she makes no apologies for it. Everything she has, she has earned. She’s not just smart, she’s street-smart.

What makes Taryn stand out from the other heroines you’ve written?
Contradiction is what makes any character come alive, and Taryn is full of them. On the surface, she has it all together. She runs a very successful PR firm. She has a wardrobe that couture fashion models would envy. Your first impression of Taryn is that she wants for nothing… but she went through a lot of pain to get where she is today. She’s a survivor. She has pulled herself up from very tough circumstances, and to do that, she has had to guard her heart. But there’s a softness, a vulnerability inside her that no one but Angel can see. He will treasure her forever.

What’s next for the town of Fools Gold?
Up next are BEFORE WE KISS and UNTIL WE TOUCH, featuring two of Taryn’s partners at Score PR. In BEFORE WE KISS, Sam Ridge, a former NFL kicker, has to hire Dellina to help him plan a major company bash. He’s very reluctant to work with her because a few months ago, they had a little fling that went terribly (and comically) wrong. Dellina’s going to make him pay a little bit before she forgives him. So much fun to watch a strong man grovel!

At the start of UNTIL WE TOUCH, former quarterback Jack McGarry is shocked when the mother of his personal assistant and best friend Larissa Owens tells him to fire Larissa because the big-hearted beauty is in love with him. That’s news to Jack… and when he tells Larissa what her mom said, it’s news to Larissa, too! She’s not in love with Jack. Except, just by saying the words, her mom has opened both their eyes, and things between them suddenly get very hot.

THANKS TO ALISSA AT MEDIA MUSCLE,
I HAVE ONE (1) COPY TO GIVE AWAY.
OPEN TO U.S. RESIDENTS

FILL OUT RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM BELOW

GIVEAWAY ENDS MAY 29th AT 6PM EST

WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

a Rafflecopter giveaway

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
USING THE RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM

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 affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Giveaway, Guest Author, Showcase

TO THE LIONS by Chuck Driskell showcase & giveaway

CMash May 6, 2014 Leave a Comment

Former Army Green Beret, Gage Hartline, makes a second appearance in Chuck Driskell’s latest espionage thriller part of the Gage Hartline Series, To the Lions.

Having just completed a job, a mercenary with a strong moral compass takes a high paying job that sends him inside a Spanish prison to safeguard a cartel leader’s son who may be targeted by a rival syndicate, Los Leones.

Upon his arrival to the beautiful and charming Catalonian Spain, Gage falls for Justina, a Polish woman he rescues from a Russian club who is stuck in a precarious financial situation. His immediate attraction to her gives him a reason to earn the large payday at stake and as his situation deteriorates, she becomes his lifeline.

Fast paced and filled with action, romance and espionage this book has something for all lovers of suspense fiction. With action scenes that include prison brawls, gunfights and one-on-one combat each scene vibrates with intensity and well-defined characters who make the TO THE LIONS exceptional. It is surprising around every corner and the plot is full of energy and white knuckled excitement.

PURCHASE LINKS:

Chuck Driskell lost both his parents at an early age and grew up in an extremely poor home, which fueled his hunger for the unknown and passion for success. He grew up to join the military where he became a U.S. Army paratrooper. His post-military life has been spent in the advertising business and as a writer where he finds time to create stories usually set in international locales that are a blend of crime, suspense, and spy genres. He lives in South Carolina with his wife and two children and is always scheming about his next trip to Europe.
Connect with Chuck at these sites:

Q&A with Chuck Driskell

Do you draw from personal experiences and/or current events? Much of what I come up with is from personal experience. If I’m trying to create a situation I’ve never encountered, I’ll either call in an expert or imagine it and shape it from some other situation I’ve experienced.

Do you start with the conclusion and plot in reverse or start from the beginning and see where the story line brings you? I simply sit down and start writing! Usually I’ll know the setting but that’s about all. I’m always as excited as a reader to see where the story takes me.

Your routine when writing? Any idiosyncrasies? I prefer to write very early in the morning, buzzing on caffeine. I can edit later in the day, but mornings are my best time for creativity.

Is writing your full time job? If not, may I ask what you do by day? I do not write full time. That much freedom might cause me to self-destruct! I co-founded B2B Media back in 2001 and we were purchased by Vomela Corporation in 2011. Vomela is a fantastic company and have been nice enough to allow me to stay on.

Who are some of your favorite authors? I’m convinced Ian Fleming was from another planet. How could one man write so well, yet so economically? He’s certainly near the top of my list. I love Frederick Forsyth. Brett Battles. JT Ellison. Robert Ludlum.

What are you reading now? MATTERHORN: A Novel of the Vietnam War by Karl Marlantes…a powerful, harrowing book.

Are you working on your next novel? Can you tell us a little about it? I’m almost done with the first draft of my next book. Hooray! It’s the third Gage Hartline novel, set primarily in Lima, Peru. The story revolves around the burgeoning cocaine industry there and contains a very American twist. I’m excited about it.

Fun questions:

Your novel will be a movie. Who would you cast? Well, TO THE LIONS has been optioned by the sensational film company Solipsist Films. So, in case his agent is reading, I’m convinced—and my wife is really convinced—that Bradley Cooper would make a great Gage Hartline. He’s tough and physical but also possesses the necessary natural empathy to play Gage. Also, I’ve had numerous readers write me to say they envisioned Danny Trejo as the character El Toro. I agree!

Manuscript/Notes: hand written or keyboard? Hand-written with red ink all over the place.

Favorite leisure activity/hobby? My children are 7 and 4. For me, playing with them has no equal.

Favorite meal? I really love steak. Ribeyes. Porterhouses. One of my favorite things to do is grill. I have a charcoal grill and I often use different wood to enhance the flavor. Man…a lazy summer evening with lingering light, steaks sizzling on the grill, a few icy cold ones in a bucket. That’s my idea of fun.

THANKS TO NATALIE AT JULIA DRAKE PR,
I HAVE ONE (1) COPY TO GIVE AWAY.
OPEN TO U.S. RESIDENTS

FILL OUT RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM BELOW

GIVEAWAY ENDS MAY 27th AT 6PM EST

WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

a Rafflecopter giveaway

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
USING THE RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM

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 affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Giveaway, Guest Author, Showcase, The Book Trib/Media Muscle, The Book Trib/Media Muscle

Guest Author ALLAN TOPOL showcase & giveaway

CMash May 2, 2014 Leave a Comment

WELCOME BACK ALLAN TOPOL

ALLAN TOPOL

Allan Topol is the author of nine novels of international intrigue. Two of them, SPY DANCE and ENEMY MY ENEMY, were national best sellers. His novels have been translated into Japanese, Portuguese and Hebrew. One was optioned and three are in development for movies. His new novel, is the next in the Craig Page series, following the successful THE RUSSIAN ENDGAME, CHINA GAMBIT and SPANISH REVENGE.

In addition to his fiction writing, Allan Topol co-authored a two-volume legal treatise entitled SUPERFUND LAW AND PROCEDURE. He wrote a weekly column for Military.com and has published articles in numerous periodicals including the New York Times, Washington Post, and Yale Law Journal. He is currently a blogger for Huffington Post.
Connect with Allan at these sites:

ABOUT THE BOOK

Hard on the heels of The Russian Endgame comes author Allan Topol’s next great thriller. Rife with the exotic backdrops and hairpin plot turns that put Topol on the best-seller list, THE ARGENTINE TRIANGLE is a heart-stopping foray into human vice coupled with power accelerating towards catastrophe.

After a fall from grace and drastic cosmetic surgery in Switzerland, former CIA director Craig Page is enjoying a new, exhilarating life racing cars across Europe. But when new dangers threaten America and an old friend goes missing during a covert mission in Argentina, will Craig be ready to step up to the plate?

Undercover in the glamorous world of Buenos Aires’ wealthy elite, Page finds himself on the brink of a terrible discovery. General Estrada and Colonel Schiller have plans for Argentina, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg. A world of brutality hidden in the classified secrets of Argentina’s Dirty War comes to light, painting an image of the cataclysmic future awaiting Estrada’s South America. To expose Estrada and put an end to his plot, Page is forced to implement every instinct, skill, and tool in his arsenal. But when it comes time to close in for the kill, Page meets with unexpected complications—love, lust, and a lethal game of cat and mouse.

In a world fraught with global conspiracy, Craig Page is king.

BOOK DETAILS:

Number of Pages: 336 pages
Publisher: SelectBooks; 1 edition
Publication Date: April 15, 2014
ISBN-13: 9781590792537
ASIN: B00JS8HFNA

PURCHASE LINKS:

THANKS TO TRACY AT MEDIA MUSCLE/THE BOOK TRIB,
I HAVE ONE (1) COPY TO GIVE AWAY.
OPEN TO U.S. RESIDENTS

FILL OUT RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM BELOW

GIVEAWAY ENDS MAY 16th AT 6PM EST

WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

a Rafflecopter giveaway

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
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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 affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Forever (Hachette Book Group), GCP/Forever, Giveaway, Guest Author

Forever Presents: The Sweet and Sassy Blog Tour with giveaway

CMash May 1, 2014 1 Comment

Jenny Carpenter is the unrivaled pie-baking champion of Last Chance, South Carolina’s annual Watermelon Festival and the town’s unofficial spinster. With her dream of marriage and children on hold, she focuses on another dream, turning the local haunted house into a charming bed-and-breakfast. But her plans go off course when the home’s former owner shows up on her doorstep on a dark and stormy night . . . Mega-bestselling horror writer Gabriel Raintree is as mysterious and tortured as his heroes. His family’s long-deserted mansion is just the inspiration he needs to finish his latest twisted tale, or so he thinks until he learns it’s been sold. The new innkeeper proves to be as determined as she is kind, and soon Gabriel finds himself a paying guest in his own home. As Jenny and Gabe bring new passion to the old house, can she convince him to leave the ghosts of his past behind-and make Last Chance their first choice for a future together?

Read an excerpt

“We have plenty of time for you to tell me your secrets. And I can tell you mine. You don’t have to bear every burden all by yourself, you know.”

He wanted to believe that most of all, so he didn’t move. He didn’t try to leave her. He didn’t open the door and walk away. He sat there and let her seal the deal with a kiss. She leaned over the console and touched her soft lips to his. The kiss started out tentatively, as if she was testing him to see what he might do.

He should have pushed her away like the other times.

But her kiss was like a healing balm. It seemed to work its way into all the endlessly aching places in his soul. It filled him up with something golden and pure, like some miraculous elixir. And so he fell into the kiss as hard as he’d ever fallen into a kiss. He opened his mouth and she moved in and blew all his good intentions and deep fears to smithereens.

***

Jenny unlocked the two locks on The Jonquil House’s front door. Her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t breathe. This was it. She was taking charge, but holy God she didn’t have the first idea how to actually do that.

It was still kind of amazing that Gabe was here, coming back to the inn knowing that they were not going to say good night and go to their separate bedrooms. And really, she was starting to have a tiny bit of performance anxiety. It had been one hell of a long time since she’d gotten intimate with a man.

More important, if she was crazy enough to buy into what Savannah Randall had suggested earlier in the evening, then there was a boatload riding on this moment. Like her heart and her future. Which explained why her hands were shaking so badly that she was fumbling with the keys.

It seemed to take an eternity to get the door open. She was running out of time to think of something hot and sultry to say that would get him up to her bedroom.

Then, as the door swung inward, Bear came flying down the hall and knocked her back into Gabe’s waiting arms. The dog was probably ruining her green dress with his paws up on her chest, but he was giving her lots and lots of sloppy dog kisses, and somehow that seemed exactly right for the moment.

Because it made Gabe laugh. He was right behind her, holding her up. And he’d used the moment to sneak his big manly hands around her waist while he propped her up against his sturdy chest and hips, where she discovered that Gabe was turned on.

Evidently, he didn’t need any sultry lines. The kisses they’d shared in the car had done the trick. They were some first-class kisses.

His heat penetrated her being and wormed its way into every cell of her body, melting her so that she kind of settled back into him with a vocal sigh.

“Bear. Down. Now.” Gabe could be commanding when he chose to be.

The dog obeyed. And she found herself back on her own two feet while Gabe shut and locked the door.

“He needs to be walked,” she said, suddenly realizing that a dog complicated things. And then something else occurred to her. “You were going to leave Bear behind? With me?”

He turned away from the door and aimed his gaze on her. His eyes seemed even darker, and his look lit a fire in her. “He’s your dog,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, I think he’s our dog.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. She wanted to kiss it and wondered why the heck she was holding back. She needed to break free of these restraints that she’d imposed on herself for all these years.

But before she could act on the impulse, he was striding down the hall toward the kitchen.

“Wait.” She followed after him.

He pulled the dog’s leash down from the hook by the back door. “I’ll walk the dog.”

She didn’t want him to leave her. If he did, she’d lose her nerve. Or maybe he’d talk himself out of it.

She shook her head. “No, we’ll walk the dog after.” And she took a couple of steps toward him, snaked her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for the kiss she’d wanted to give him a moment before.

His mouth met hers, his lips firm and moist and gentle. When he opened the seam of her lips, his tongue proved to be exceptionally talented.

She ran her fingers up into his hair, and he made a noise that made her feel powerful in a way she had never felt before.

His mouth left hers and trailed a string of kisses and half bites along her jaw and down into the hollow of her neck.

Her insides melted, as if some warm being had breathed spring into the desolate, cold places that she’d been guarding. The walls came down. She stopped worrying. She stopped thinking.

She simply was. Alive.

Hope Ramsay grew up on the North Shore of Long Island, but every summer Momma would pack her off under the care of Aunt Annie to go visiting with relatives in the midlands of South Carolina. Her extended family includes its share of colorful aunts and uncles, as well as cousins by the dozens, who provide the fodder for the characters you’ll find in Last Chance, South Carolina. She’s a two-time finalist in the Golden Heart and is married to a good ol’ Georgia boy who resembles every single one of her heroes. She lives in Fairfax, Virginia, where you can often find her on the back deck, picking on her thirty-five-year-old Martin guitar.
Connect with Hope at these sites:

PURCHASE LINKS:

Flying is Theo Jacobson’s passion. Soaring above the clouds, he’s on to the next adventure . . . and the next woman. So when he comes home to Everson, Texas, for his big brother’s wedding, it’s nothing but a pit stop. He’ll act as best man, cover the family business while the happy couple honeymoons, and be on his way before the champagne goes flat. But all that changes when he comes face-to-face with the wedding planner-the very same woman who broke his heart without a backward glance years ago. Irene Cornwell started I Do I Do with a wing and a prayer. Now, with two weddings under her belt, it’s a piece of cake . . . until Theo lands back in town. Just seeing his twinkling blue eyes and infuriatingly sexy smile turns her world upside down. For the sake of her business, she proposes an uneasy truce. But when the wedding is over-all bets are off!

Read an excerpt

If he was smart he’d follow her suggestion. Get the hell out of here, go home, and take a cold shower. But he’d never been smart about Ree, and it was hot. Summer in Texas hot. And her swimming pool was just sitting there waiting to be of some use. He put his tools away and headed for the bath house. An odd assortment of suits hung from hooks on the wall, and he picked a pair that looked like long plaid walking shorts. They fit just fine, so he grabbed a towel and walked out to the pool.
Ree must have still been in the house, but he didn’t wait for her. He dove into the deep end of the pool, letting the cool water shock his system. He stayed under water, swimming with his eyes open until he reached the shallow end of the pool, and then he turned around without surfacing and swam the other direction. His lungs were burning from a lack of oxygen, so he was finally forced to come up for air. Good God. The sight before him nearly knocked the breath out of him all over again.
Wearing a purple bikini and nothing more, Ree walked out of the back door gliding toward him like a model on one of his fantasy runways.
**
Irene walked out the door just as Theo was rising from the water like a sleek water god. Neptune’s warrior. Or some mythical creature. His black hair was slicked back from his face. Water cascaded down his bulging arms, across his broad chest, and ran over his flat stomach. He’d gained more muscle since she’d first known him and the result was extraordinary. Unfortunately for her peace of mind, he was gorgeous. Absolutely. Undeniably the epitome of male perfection. A beautiful boy grown into the manliest of men. Damn it all and a box of rocks.
She put her eyeballs back in their sockets and tried to act casual. If she didn’t want to make a fool of herself she’d have to keep things light –act unaffected. Working with him this afternoon had already put her into a state of unbridled ditziness. She kept sneaking peeks at the way the muscles in his arms bunched as he swung the hammer, or the way he used his long legs, lifting the thick boards over his head before putting them in place. The hot Texas sun must have baked her brain because he suddenly seemed even more attractive than usual. She was supposed to be immune. But the way his dark hair artfully curled around the top of his ears seemed designed to make her blood thicken with need. Those eyes. Cool blue and watching her, calculating her responses, but she’d lost track of what he wanted from her years ago, and the time she’d spent with him the last few days had done nothing to clarify anything at all. Especially what and how she felt about this man.
It had taken her way too long to decide what bathing suit to wear. Like it mattered. It wasn’t like she was going on a date, for goodness sakes, but his remark about her not wearing a suit made her self-conscious, and resentful, and turned on all at the same time. She was letting the man screw with her head, and that was the one thing she’d promised she wouldn’t do. First she started to put on a black one piece racing suit that covered as much skin as possible, but it felt like she was being manipulated into wearing it. Like she was ashamed that he’d seen her naked on his arrival into town. Then she grabbed a two piece that had a little skirt. Modest, but showing a little more flesh. She held it up in the mirror and frowned at the polka dot design. It looked like something a clown might wear. To hell with it. She picked up her favorite purple bikini, slipped it on, and marched outside with her head held high.
The impact of seeing him all wet and bare-chested was like taking a shot of tequila on an empty stomach. Hot quivers ran through her veins. Intoxicating. She’d been without a man for much too long if he could make her feel so out of control just by taking his shirt off. It took all of her mighty concentration not to stop and gawk. But she was proud of herself. She made it to the side of the pool, but then stopped having no idea what to do next. Conversation was way beyond her power. As a kid she’d always liked to make a splashy entrance, so she let out a yell and executed the perfect cannon ball, rocking the pool, and hoping he might be gone when she surfaced for air.

Molly Cannon lives a charmed life in Texas with hernearly perfect husband and extremely large cat Nelson. When she’s not writing, she spends her days reading, taking dance classes with the hubby and watching all kinds of sports.
Connect with Molly at these sites:

PURCHASE LINKS:

THANKS TO JULIE AT FOREVER/GCP,
ONE WINNER WILL WIN 6 BOOKS.
OPEN TO U.S. RESIDENTS

(both author’s latest books and copies of their backlist
(AIN’T MISBEHAVING & A CRAZY LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE for Molly and WELCOME TO LAST CHANCE & HOME AT LAST CHANCE for Hope)

FILL OUT RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM BELOW

GIVEAWAY ENDS MAY 15th AT 6PM EST

WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

a Rafflecopter giveaway

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
USING THE RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM

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 affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Guest Author, Partners In Crime Tours

Guest Author JAVIER MÁRQUEZ SÁNCHEZ

CMash April 29, 2014 1 Comment

WELCOME JAVIER MÁRQUEZ SÁNCHEZ

JAVIER MÁRQUEZ SÁNCHEZ

Javier Márquez Sánchez (born 1978 in Sevilla, Spain) is Editor of the Spanish edition of Esquire. He has worked as a journalist for the Spanish radio and has written several novels, short stories collections and non-fiction books on film and music.

Lethal as a Charlie Parker Solo is his first novel being translated into English.
Connect with Javier at these sites:

ABOUT THE BOOK

Lethal as a Charlie Parker Solo is a tribute to the noir novels of the 1940’s and 50’s, and fictionalizes the scandal that accompanied the filming of The Conqueror, the 1956 movie starring John Wayne and Susan Hayward.

Las Vegas, 1955: The gambling capital of the world, paradise of the Mafia and its luxury hotels offering endless opportunities to tourists and Hollywood stars alike. In the midst of it all; Eddie Bennett, a problem solver who lives in a suite at the Flamingo, drives a Pontiac Silver Streak and hangs out with the stars and the mafia bosses.

One day he’s asked to handle the paperwork related to the death of a young actress. But after a little snooping around, he discovers that there’s more than a broken heart behind her death.

The investigation takes Bennett from the bars and casinos of Las Vegas to the set of The Conqueror in the middle of the desert, and on the way he runs into John Wayne and other Hollywood stars, pretty girls, mobsters, state secrets and more dead bodies…

READ AN EXCERPT

Those legs were way too good for a cemetery. Long and well-sculpted, with just enough curves to get lost in without getting dizzy. Sexy, but elegant enough to avoid provocation. Those pins were about as fitting in that place as a hooker at a wedding.

A real waste.

Either way, the girl didn’t seem to bear any relation to the family of the deceased. Her presence was strictly physical. More body than soul. Not so much accompanying the mourners as scrutinizing them, and without making much of an effort to hide it.

It wasn’t hard to make out the friends from the relatives who were pretty thin on the ground, dressed in black, and maintaining a respectful silence. They seemed out of place among the buddies, old-time crocks in Hawaiian shirts who all seemed to arrive in groups and wouldn’t stop whispering – probably about the prospects for the post-funeral canapés. There was no hiding the fact they were Hollywood veterans. Maybe one or two had known the dead guy, perhaps even worked with him, but most of them had probably just turned up after seeing his obituary in Variety.

They sure were a special kind of wildlife these people. They didn’t want to admit the good times were now the old days and spent the best part of their time looking each other up to swap stories in which most of them probably never took part. But that was always the way in Hollywood, the stuff of legend.

No, that girl definitely didn’t look like she belonged to Lingwood G. Dunn’s usual crowd. A special effects director on movies like Citizen Kane, West Side Story and 2001, A Space Odyssey according to his obituary in the newspaper, he was still just an unknown technician for most people. An unknown who had chosen the worst possible day to buy his last one-way ticket.

I don’t know if he had been lucky in life, but death sure dealt him a bum hand. He had died of cancer the previous morning, May 15, 1998, and he had no other choice than to accept the burial today. The very same day the whole twentieth century show business world went into mourning meltdown. That May 16, Frank Sinatra died.

That’s why it was so surprising to see the girl. The way she looked, moved and acted it was clear she was a reporter. I’ve known more than a few. And that day the story was elsewhere.

Another time I would have gone over to find out what she was up to, the lady deserved it. But I was working and I needed to be prepared to act at any moment. When you’re past 70 it’s not good to be caught off guard.

So I went back to watching the other side of the street. The green sedan was still parked in front of the bar. I was beginning to get tired of sitting in my old Volvo and I was thirsty. I made my way through the traffic, leaned on the car I was watching, and pretended to be adjusting the turn-ups on my trousers. Then I went into the bar.

It was early, but more people were drinking beer than coffee. I sat at the bar and ordered a strong coffee and some donuts. In the mirror opposite, behind the bottles, I could keep an eye on pretty much everything in the joint. My man was at a table in the back, sitting in the same state of boxed-in nervousness I had left him in minutes before. His name was Benjamin O’Connors, a twenty-something from a good family. Well educated, but keeping bad company. He was wearing a red bomber jacket, perfect for doing exactly what he was hoping to avoid: drawing attention to himself.

I sipped my coffee and cursed as I burnt my tongue. Patience isn’t one of my virtues. While I got bored waiting I grabbed a handful of pistachios that had been left almost untouched by the suit who had just left. I put the nuts in my jacket pocket. The barman gave me a disapproving look. For my cockatoo, I said. It was true. I had a cockatoo, two fish, and a cat that was too lazy to try eating his flatmates. Then the door opened and there she was. She was silhouetted against the light, but those legs were unmistakable. She breezed over to the center of the bar and sat down. She swung her hair to one side and I thought how unusual it was to see a cut like that these days. She reminded me of Veronica Lake in those films I’ve learned to love over the years; learning to like Veronica Lake didn’t take so long. She asked for a coffee and got out a notebook. I wasn’t wrong about her profession.

I looked for the red bomber jacket in the mirror and saw that Benjamin O’Connors was still in the corner with his eyes glued to the door. So I grabbed my cup and moved a couple of stools down the bar, next to the girl.

“You got an interest in has-beens?”

She looked at me and smiled. She had too much experience to take the bait from a stranger first time of asking.

“I met Lingwood in ’55,” I said, “when he made that film with John Wayne.”

“You an actor?” She said without looking up from her notepad.

“No.”

“Screenwriter?”

“No.”

She looked up at me.

“A fellow technician?”

I shook my head.

“Just knew the guy,” I said.

“Listen Grandpa, if you really knew him maybe you could help me,” she said, rattled. When you’ve done a heap of shitty jobs in your life the attitude is easy to recognize.

“The guy was a friend of my editor-in-chief and he wants me to do something more than just short filler about his death. But those guys have only told me black and white stories of former glories without much of a spark. I think most of them are a bit…you know.”

“Old is the word,” I answered. “And don’t worry; I’m not bothered you called me Grandpa. I don’t happen to be one, but I guess I could be.”

“Okay. Listen up. Sir, today the greatest artist of the twentieth century died,” she put sugar in her coffee and began to stir, “and they got me covering the funeral of this guy who might’ve been a great guy to hit the town with, but frankly, I don’t give a damn.” She sipped her coffee. “So, if you don’t mind, I just want to get this business over with as fast as possible.”

She emphasized her displeasure with a grimace.

I went back to my coffee and stayed quiet for a while.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” she said after a few minutes, putting her hand on my arm. “Sometimes it drives me nuts covering these news fillers. I can get a bit problematic, you get my drift? And occasionally they give me these crappy jobs as a punishment.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I replied.

She gave me a pretty smile.

“And let me tell you, for a grandpa, like you said, you look pretty good. You gotta be older than my pa, but you look fitter than my last boyfriend.”

“Baby,” I said, “you just made my year.”

I winked and gave her a friendly pinch on the cheek. Call it golden-ager’s license. Afterward we both got back to our business.

Sincerely made up, I got lost in the reflection of my thin and wrinkled face in the mirror, my ash gray hair, which I luckily still had a lot of, and those eyes which seemed to sink further down every day.

I thought about forty years back and another reporter who’d managed steal my heart. And for the hundredth time I got a scare about how the years go by real quick. It was pretty clear I didn’t have long left and I didn”t like thinking that I might be taking what had happened back then as extra baggage.

“I think I got a good story for you,” I said without taking my eyes off the mirror.

She turned round with an air of irritation. I didn’t let her speak.

“It’s a story about Lingwood Dunn by the way, but I’m betting you’re going to be hooked.”

She looked at me with tenderness, her eyes getting ready to apologize.

“Are you serious? I mean I don’t wanna be rude, Sir, but I already told you,” she said, flashing her notepad. “So if it’s just another story about a golden glory…”

“I can guarantee you won’t have heard a story like this one. And stop calling me Sir. The pretty ladies call me Eddie.”

“Okay, Eddie, she replied with a smile that was more friendly than flirty. “In that case, if you…”

To be honest I was dying to know what she was going to say, but my sudden and unexpected movement made her instantly shut up. A ray of light told me the bar door was opening and I reckoned it was the man I was waiting for.

I don’t know if the girl was still looking at me, surprised by my sudden lack of friendliness, or whether she decided to tell me to go to hell and carry on with what she was doing. All my attention was focused on a long-haired guy in a black leather overcoat who was now walking through the bar behind me without taking off his sunglasses. He had an arrogant swagger totally out of key with his mediocrity. God, how I hate those kind of guys.

He walked toward the bathroom without changing his pace or deviating until he got to the last table, Benjamin O’Connors’. Then, in a surprisingly clumsy move, he put out his hand to take the envelope O’Connors had put on the edge of the table and hid it in his pocket. About as subtle as a drunk priest’s sermon. Then he carried on toward the bathroom.

I don’t think anyone in the bar had seen the operation, but not because it had been particularly discreet. They simply couldn’t give a damn.

I waited a few seconds before getting up.

“Back in a minute,” I said to the girl. I don’t know if she was listening.

My friend in the red bomber jacket was a lot more nervous now. He was looking around the whole while and couldn’t stop his legs from twitching. He looked at me, but could only hold the gaze an instant before fixing his eyes back on the beer he had in front of him. I guess he would see me again when I went past.

I went into the men’s room. Cleaner than I expected. Dirtier than I’d have liked. Two sinks, four urinals and three cubicles. Two were open. Under the third door I could see my man’s feet.

I looked at the others and noted that they all had two rolls of paper on the cistern.

I knocked on the door of the third.

“Busy!”

I knocked again.

“Busy, Goddamn it! Use a different one!”

“Young man, would you be so kind as to pass me a roll of toilet paper. I have a medical urgency due to an operation of…”

“Shit!” I heard the lock turning, “I don’t wanna know your life story, man.”

The guy opened the door and passed me a roll.

“Take it, and enjoy the show.”

It was time to be quick and effective.

With one hand I pushed the door open and with the other I grabbed the long-haired guy’s wrist and pulled it toward me, trapping it between the door and the frame.

“What the fuck!” he shouted from the other side.

Then with as much strength as I could, I smashed his forearm over and over again with the door.

He yelled and fought, but I’d caught him so unawares he couldn’t coordinate his movements. Then I went into the cubicle.

I pushed him against the end wall and before he fell and hit the toilet bowl, I put my hand between his legs. I squeezed hard. Luckily, he was dressed, so the move wasn’t so gross.

He groaned. I squeezed again.

He started to groan louder, but I shut him up by putting my free hand on his windpipe and forcing his head against the tiles. I let the hand go and caught my breath. Then a right hook to the nose. His head bounced and the tiles crunched. I hit him again and the blood stained my knuckles. Now the tiles were messed up too. Meanwhile, I squeezed the other hand and it seemed like something was crunching down there too. By now the guy didn’t have the strength to moan.

He was ready to talk.

I got him by the neck again.

“The gig’s over, buddy.” I said. From now on, you want money, you get a job.

I let go of the hand I had on his balls and checked his pockets. That made him change his expression and he tried turning to relieve some of the pain. I found the envelope stuffed with cash, and another one with the usual photos. But just the photos.

I got out a notebook and a pencil.

“Now you’re going to write down the address where I can go and get me the negatives.”

I grabbed his balls again. He gave a start.

He wrote it as fast as I forget my new friends’ names. He didn’t even look at the paper. For a minute I thought he was going to throw up.

Maybe I had squeezed too hard.

I know that sometimes I go overboard, but when you get to my age it’s better to take these guys by surprise because if I gave them a chance I could live to regret it. That said, it was clear I could get away with it because this was the nineties, and tough guys weren’t as tough as they used to be. Not even close.

I took him by the chin and shook his head so he would open his eyes and look at me.

“Remember this. If one day you go into a bar, a hotel or a disco and you realize that Benjamin O’Connors is in the same city, you get in your car and drive until you’re a 100 miles away. You hearing me? Otherwise, next time I’ll turn these – I squeezed lightly between his legs – into a cute decoration to hang from your rear-view mirror.”

I think he nodded, or at least tried to with what strength he had left. I didn’t get to see because right then the bathroom door opened and Benjamin O’Connors appeared, first with an expression of confusion and then one of fear.

“Shit!” was the only thing he said before he started running.

I let go of the guy and tried to get out of the cubicle as fast as I could, which wasn’t all that fast. It’s those moments I wonder whether I’m getting too old for the job.

“Take care, son.” I said by way of a goodbye.

I had time before I left to see him slide down awkwardly onto the toilet with both hands between his legs, trying to get some relief.

“Hey, Grandpa. What’s going on in there?” The waiter shouted from the bar.

“Nothing buddy, there’s a guy in here that seems to have eaten some bad scrambled eggs.”

The reporter, still on the stool, turned to look at me. Her smile evaporated when she saw the blood on my hands.

For a moment I thought I was going to say something but then there was a small explosion outside in the street.

“Be with you in a moment,” I said, as I passed her by.

The back wheel of the sedan had burst as it drove over the tacks I’d left to prevent my client driving off. I went up to the car and opened the side door.

Between the shock of the men’s room and the blowout, O’Connors was about to have a coronary.

“You can breathe easy. It’s all over.”

“He’s going to kill me,” he whispered.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“Not you, my Pa!”, he shouted, annoyed by my error. “If he sent someone it’s because he already knows everything. And if he knows, he’s going to kill me.”

“Relax, son. Your old man just knows that this friend of yours wasn’t exactly a saint and that he was squeezing you for dimes by taking advantage of the good family name. But from the little he told me, he thinks you were being blackmailed so he wouldn’t tell your beautiful young wife about some lover you might have stashed away somewhere. What Daddy didn’t know is that the lover was the long-haired guy.”

“Please! Please..!”

I leaned inside the car so I could settle the matter in the most discreet way possible in the middle of the street.

“I told you to relax. Here,” I gave him the envelope, “get rid of these photos. I’ll find the negatives and you can forget about this business.”

“Can I… Can I trust you?”

“Do you wanna talk about your options?”

He shook his head.

“Forget about it. I swear I don’t give a damn about high society gossip.”

I took out the envelope with the money and took my fee for the job.

“Here, give this to your old man and tell him I already got paid.”

“Thanks.”

“And be careful about your friends. Or what you do with them.”

“It’s not what you think,” he whispered.

“You can be sure about that,” I replied as I got into the car. “When I saw you on all fours like a carthorse I tried to think about something else.”

As I closed the car door I noticed that all the clients of the bar were crowded round the windows and the door of the bar to get a good view of the scene. The guy in the black overcoat came out. He held a bloody tissue to his nose. He was stumbling with his head high but his legs slightly bent. Some of the people tried to help him, but he rejected their goodwill with violent shoves.

As he turned the corner, he looked back at me. I winked and then lost sight of him.

“Hey, guys!” I shouted as I went back in the bar. This guy has had a blowout; do you think you could lend him a hand changing the wheel?”

“Yeah, sure,” a couple of the customers said helpfully.

“I’d do it,” I said as they walked past, “but I’m too old.”

I climbed back on my stool at the bar. The barman went back to his place on the other side.

“A beer?”

It wasn’t so long ago when I didn’t have to think twice before answering that question.

“No thanks, another coffee please.”

I turned towards the girl who was sitting down slowly, with a frown. I guess she was wondering what kind of old crock would put on such a show.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” she said as she sat down.

“Don’t think so.”

“Really?”

“No,” I repeated, but it was the friendliest no I could manage.

“Before, you said you wanted to tell me a story and now you’re not talking.”

“That was a different story.”

“I thought you were a guy who liked to tell stories.”

“Well, actually, I’m the kind of guy who lives them.”

She thought for a moment and inclined her head so all her hair fell to one side. Maybe it was bothering her, though I suspect she was just using her female charm to get an old guy nervous.

She got close enough to whisper.

“Who were those guys?”

“Oh, just some guys with too much free time.”

She realized she was going to get nothing out of me and gave up, though she was still curious.

And then I saw a glimmer in her eyes that woke up an old itch. For the first time, she wasn’t looking at me all patronizing like most young girls look at older guys. So many women had looked at me that way during my life that it was impossible not to pick up on that spark one more time.

“Who are you, Eddie?”

“The one and the same: Eddie. You said it, gorgeous. And I’m real sorry to have interrupted our conversation before.”

Now it was me who was getting up close. “If I remember right, you were about to tell me something fascinating.”

“Me?” She answered, putting on an air of Miss Interested 1990. “Hmm, let me think. If I’m not wrong, I was going to say that if you gave me a good story for my article, I’d invite you to lunch.”

“Baby, when I tell you this story you’re going to want to invite me to bed.”

BOOK DETAILS:

Genre: Crime Noir Hardboiled
Published by: 280 Steps
Publication Date: March 2014
Number of Pages: 200
ISBN: 978-82-93326-07-6

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Guest Author, The Story Plant

Guest Author REBA WHITE WILLIAMS

CMash April 28, 2014 1 Comment

WELCOME REBA WHITE WILLIAMS

REBA WHITE WILLIAMS

Reba White Williams worked for more than thirty years in business and finance—in research at McKinsey & Co., as a securities analyst on Wall Street, and as a senior executive at an investment management firm.
Williams graduated from Duke with a BA in English, earned an MBA at Harvard, a PhD in Art History at CUNY, and an MA in Writing at Antioch. She has written numerous articles for art and financial journals. She is a past president of the New York City Art Commission and served on the New York State Council for the Arts.

She and her husband built what was thought to be the largest private collection of fine art prints by American artists. They created seventeen exhibitions from their collection that circulated to more than one hundred museums worldwide, Williams writing most of the exhibition catalogues. She has been a member of the print committees of several leading museums.

Williams grew up in North Carolina, and lives in New York, Connecticut and Southern California with her husband and Maltese, Muffin. She is the author of two novels featuring Coleman and Dinah Greene, Restrike and Fatal Impressions, along with the story of Coleman and Dinah when they were children, Angels. She is currently working on her third Coleman and Dinah mystery.
Connect with Ms. Williams at these sites:

ABOUT THE BOOK

Coleman and Dinah Greene are making names for themselves in the art world. Coleman`s magazine publishing empire is growing and Dinah`s print gallery is gaining traction. In fact, Dinah has just won the contract to select, buy, and hang art in the New York office of the management consultants Davidson, Douglas, Danbury & Weeks – a major coup that will generate The Greene Gallery`s first big profits. However, when Dinah goes to DDD&W to begin work, she discovers a corporate culture unlike anything she`s ever encountered before. There are suggestions of improprieties everywhere, including missing art worth a fortune. And when two DDD&W staff members are discovered murdered, Dinah and Coleman find themselves swept into the heart of another mystery. Revealing the murderer will be no easy task…but first Dinah needs to clear her own name from the suspect list.

READ AN EXCERPT

By five thirty Thursday morning, Dinah had eaten a light breakfast, dressed, and packed. At 5:45, Tom, Jonathan’s driver, picked her up in the Lincoln Town Car. Tom would drive her to the DDD&W office in the Fry building, wait while she made a final check of last night’s installations, then take her to the airport in time for the nine a.m. flight to Los Angeles.

They dropped Baker at his vet’s for the weekend and were on their way uptown by a few minutes past six. Dinah mentally checked everything she should have done. Her suitcase and carry-on bag were in the trunk, and she was dressed in a favorite travel outfit, a navy blue pantsuit and a crisp white shirt. Her ticket was in her bag, as were her sunglasses, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and cash in small bills to buy newspapers or magazines, and for tips. She’d remove the jacket when the plane arrived in warm LA. The New York weather was typical for March: cold, damp, and overcast. She smiled. In a few hours she’d be in sunshine, surrounded by the beautiful Bel Air gardens, enjoying a loving welcome from Jonathan. Making up after a quarrel could be fun.

At the Fry building, she took the elevator to the thirty-third floor. She paused to admire the prints in the reception area, then hurried toward the dining area. But before she reached it, she noticed the door to the anteroom of the managing director’s suite was open. Hunt Frederick must be in. She’d invite him to join her for a tour.

The door to his office was ajar. Dinah called his name but got no reply. Maybe he was on the telephone and couldn’t hear her? She tapped on the door and pushed it open. The carnage jumped up at her, a vision in a nightmare, and the smell was horrific—blood, urine, feces, and—oh, God—a whiff of Jungle Gardenia. The heavily carved bookshelves on the left had pulled away from the wall, and shelving and books lay all over the floor. Beneath the jumble of dark wood, red leather, and white pages splattered with blood: a body—and more blood, black against the red carpet. Blonde hair soaked in blood. A blood-stained beige platform shoe. A hand with purple painted nails.

Dinah tiptoed into the room, avoiding the blood, and touched a white wrist: no pulse, and the skin was cool. Nothing could help the poor woman.

Fighting nausea, she backed into the corridor and called 911 on her cell phone. “There’s b-been a f-fatal accident,” she said.

BOOK DETAILS:

Genre: Suspense; Women Sleuths
Series: Coleman and Dinah Greene Mystery
Number of Pages: 300 pages
Publisher: The Story Plant
Publication Date: April 22, 2014
ISBN-10: 1611881315
ISBN-13: 978-1611881318