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Wednesday: Safe Keeping by Barbara Taylor Sissel from author
Peter Murphy was born in Killarney where he spent his first three years before his family was deported to Dublin, the Strumpet City.
Growing up in the verdant braes of Templeogue, Peter was schooled by the De La Salle brothers in Churchtown where he played rugby for ‘The Wine and Gold’. He also played football (soccer) in secret!
After that, he graduated and studied the Humanities in Grogan’s under the guidance of Scot’s corner and the bar staff; Paddy, Tommy and Sean.
Murphy financed his education by working summers on the buildings sites of London in such places as Cricklewood, Camden Town and Kilburn.
Murphy also tramped the roads of Europe playing music and living without a care in the world.
But his move to Canada changed all of that. He only came over for a while – thirty years ago.
He took a day job and played music in the bars at night until the demands of family life intervened.
Having raised his children and packed them off to University, Murphy answered the long ignored internal voice and began to write.
He has no plans to make plans for the future and is happy to let things unfold as they do anyway.
Connect with Peter at these sites:
BORN & BRED is the first novel in the Life & Times Trilogy, a cycle of three books that will chart the course of one star-crossed life. It is a work of vibrant imagination from a poetic novelist of the first order.
Danny Boyle was a born angel.
At least that’s what his granny used to say, and she should know – she raised him after his parents proved incapable. When she becomes ill, Danny is reunited with his parents but they do not get to live happily ever after, as the ghosts of the past haunt their days. And when the old woman dies, all of her secrets come to light and shatter everything Danny believes in.
In the turmoil of 1970’s Ireland, an alienated Danny gets into drugs and is involved in a gangland killing. Duped by the killers into leaving his prints on the gun, Danny needs all the help his friends and family can muster. Calling in favors from bishops and priests, police and paramilitaries, God and the devil, the living and the dead, they do all that they can. But even that might not be enough.
On the night of Aug 10th, nineteen seventy-seven, Daniel Bartholomew Boyle made the biggest mistake of his young life, one that was to have far-reaching consequences for him and those around him. He might have argued that the course of his life had already been determined by happenings that occurred before he was born but, poor Catholic that he was, riddled with guilt and shame, he believed that he, and he alone, was responsible. He had been dodging the inevitable since Scully got lifted but he knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up with him. Perhaps that was why he paused in front of the old cinema in Terenure after weeks of skulking in the shadows. Perhaps that was why he waited in the drizzle as the passing car turned back and pulled up beside him.
“Get in the car, Boyle.”
Danny wanted to make an excuse – to say that he was waiting for someone – but he knew better.
And it wouldn’t do to keep them waiting. They weren’t the patient sort, twitchy and nervous, and single-minded without a shred of compassion. He looked around but the streets were empty. There was no one to help him now, standing like a target in front of the art deco facade of the Classic.
The cinema had been closed for over a year, its light and projectors darkened, and now lingered in hope of new purpose. He had spent hours in there with Deirdre, exploring each other in the dark while watching the midnight film, stoned out of their minds, back when they first started doing the stuff. He used to do a lot of his dealing there, too, around the back where no one ever looked.
“Come on, Boyle. We haven’t got all fuckin’ night.”
Danny’s bowels fluttered as he stooped to look inside the wet black car. Anthony Flanagan was sitting in the passenger’s seat, alongside a driver Danny had seen around. He was called “The Driller” and they said he was from Derry and was lying low in Dublin. They said he was an expert at knee-capping and had learned his trade from the best. Danny had no choice; things would only get worse if he didn’t go along with them.
“How are ya?” He tested the mood as he settled into the back seat beside a cowered and battered Scully. He had known Scully since he used to hang around the Dandelion Market. He was still at school then and spent his Saturday afternoons there, down the narrow covered lane that ran from Stephen’s Green into the Wonderland where the hip of Dublin could come together to imitate what was going on in the rest of the world – but in a particularly Dublin way.
Dave, the busker, always took the time to nod to him as he passed. Dave was black and played Dylan in a Hendrix way. He always wore an afghan coat and his guitar was covered with peace symbols. Danny would drop a few coins as he passed and moved on between the stalls as Dylan gave way to Horslips, Rory Gallagher, and Thin Lizzy.
The stalls were stacked with albums and tapes, josh sticks and tie-dyed t-shirts with messages like “Peace” and “Love,” pictures of green plants and yellow Happy Faces along with posters of Che, whose father’s people had come from Galway.
The stalls were run by Hippies from such far-out places as Blackrock and Sandyford, students from Belfield and Trinity, and a select few from Churchtown. They were all so aloof as they tried to mask their involvement in commercialism under a veneer of cool. Danny knew most of them by sight, and some by name. On occasion he’d watch over their stalls when they had to get lunch or relieve themselves. He was becoming a part of the scene.
***
“Hey Boyle!”
Danny had seen Scully around before but they had never spoken. Scully, everyone said, was the guy to see about hash and acid, and, on occasion, some opium.
“You go to school in Churchtown?”
Danny just nodded, not wanting to seem over-awed.
“Wanna make some bread?”
“Sure. What do I have to do?”
“Just deliver some stuff to a friend. He’ll meet up with you around the school and no one will know – if you’re cool.”
Danny thought about it for a moment but he couldn’t say no. He had been at the edge of everything that happened for so long. Now he was getting a chance to be connected – to be one of those guys that everybody spoke about in whispers. Sure it was a bit risky but he could use the money and, besides, no one would ever suspect him. Most people felt sorry for him and the rest thought he was a bit of a spaz.
“Could be a regular gig – if you don’t fuck it up,” Scully smiled a shifty smile and melted back into the crowd, checking over each shoulder as he went.
***
As they drove off, Scully didn’t answer and just looked down at his hands. His fingers were bloody and distorted like they had been torn away from whatever he had been clinging onto.
Anto turned around and smiled as the street lights caught in the diamond beads on the windshield behind him. “We’re just fuckin’ fine, Boyle. We’re taking Scully out for a little spin in the mountains.”
His cigarette dangled from his thin lips and the smoke wisped away ambiguously. He reached back and grabbed a handful of Scully’s hair, lifting his bruised and bloodied face. “Scully hasn’t been feeling too good lately and we thought that a bit of fresh air might sort him out, ya know?”
“Cool,” Danny agreed, trying to stay calm, trying not to let his fear show – Anto fed off it. He briefly considered asking them to drop him off when they got to Rathfarnham but there was no point. He knew what was about to go down. Scully had been busted a few weeks before and, after a few days in custody, had been released.
It was how the cops set them up. They lifted them and held them until they broke and spilled all that they knew. Then they let them back out while they waited for their court date. If they survived until then – well and good. And if they didn’t – it saved everybody a lot of time and bother.
Danny sat back and watched Rathfarnham Road glide by in the night. They crossed the Dodder and headed up the hill towards the quiet, tree-lined streets that he had grown up in. As they passed near his house he thought about it: if the car slowed enough he could risk it – just like they did in the pictures. He could jump out and roll away. He could be up and running before they got the car turned around and by then he would be cutting through the back gardens and could easily lose them.
“You live around here, don’t ya, Boyle?” Anto spoke to the windshield but Danny got the message. “And your girlfriend – she lives down that way?”
Danny thought about correcting him. He hadn’t seen Deirdre since the incident in the church but there was no point. They’d use anybody and anything to get to him. He was better off just going along with them for now.
He briefly thought about asking God to save him but there was no point in that, either. They had given up on each other a long time ago. He turned his head away as they approached the church where he had been confirmed into the Faith, so long ago and far away now.
Number of Pages: 395 pages
Publisher: The Story Plant
Publication Date: March 11, 2014
ISBN-10: 1611881161
ISBN-13: 978-1611881165
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.
McElroy lives in Dallas, Texas where he is already working on the second novel in the series, “War of Wings: The Reign,” and finishing up a non-fiction debut “The Stitches,” about his experience with baseball and heartbreak. A former professional baseball player with the Texas Rangers, McElroy is a member of the Screen Actors Guild, Romance Writers of America and the Writers’ League of Texas.
Connect with TANNER at these sites:
In the beginning Heaven was perfect. All of the angels lived in complete harmony and bliss. Gabriel skated through existence on the many simple pleasures Heaven had to offer, Michael led the worker angels proudly, and Lucifer was the highest of the cherubim as well as the minister of music right under God. With one question everything changed. When God’s highest angel placed reason over faith to corrupt Heaven, a secret movement separated loved ones into two sides. After Lucifer discovered the power of the seven deadly sins and used them to empower angels, the two sides violently collided in the first war of all time, The War of Wings.
Number of Pages: 384 pages
Publisher: Brown Books Publishing Group; 1 edition
Publication Date: March 21, 2014
ISBN-10: 1612541542
ISBN-13: 978-1612541549
YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
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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.
BANNER
WELCOME IMAGE
LANDON PARHAM is a bestselling author who lives in the suburbs of Dallas, Texas. His goal as a writer is to raise awareness on everyday issues through fiction, and expose taboo realities that the masses give precious little attention to. The wild, majestic expanses of America inspire his visions and will continue to show up as integral parts of his work. Parham’s debut novel, First Night of Summer, became a bestseller in August 2013 when it hit #21 on Amazon’s Top 100 overall paid chart, and #2 on Barnes & Noble. It has garnered attention from FOX News, NBC, numerous law enforcement personnel, social workers, child-care advocates, and parents around the globe, as an emotional and true-to-life story. ”If we choose not to recognize the evil in our world, we will never stand up to it.” He is currently working on his next suspense novel following his debut. It will tackle a different, but no less suspenseful issue. Award-winning 2013 Readers’ Favorite International Award Finalist- Suspense/ Fiction Sony e-reader and #1 NYT Bestselling Author, Sandra Brown’s Debut Author Pick 2013 Become a fan and “like” my author page on Facebook to find out more. Get social with me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Goodreads.
Connect with Landon at these sites:
Writing and Reading:
Do you draw from personal experiences and/or current events?
Both. The fingers can only write what the mind can comprehend. My current projects take place in the here and now, so I have to make sure the details reflect today’s reality. The number one question I am asked as a thriller writer is this: “How can you write about such horrible things?” If you read my debut novel, First Night of Summer, you don’t have to go far before realizing that I am going to confront an exceedingly taboo subject. Having said that, you don’t have to read much further to understand that the deplorable subject matter is balanced by the deep love of family, the indelible gumption of the human spirit, and the profound power of forgiveness that has the ability to soothe the evilest of wrongdoings. All the raw human emotion is created by real human experiences.
Do you start with the conclusion and plot in reverse or start from the beginning and see where the story line brings you?
Neither. All of my plots begin with a single snapshot that is conjured in my imagination. Sometimes it comes in a dream. Sometimes it just pops into my head. Once I have a picture in full imaginative color, I start asking questions and running down rabbit holes. Kind of weird, but that way the story becomes what it is, not what I try and make it.
Your routine when writing? Any idiosyncrasies?
Tough question. I am not really a routine kind of guy. I suppose the main cause of my success – the success of completing projects – is that I just keep plugging away. Each day requires something different. If there’s a day that I feel particularly melancholy, I’ll skip to a scene that calls for sorrow or hardship. If I’m pumped up, I’ll work on action sequences. And if someone has ticked me off…well, you get the point.
As far as ticks or habits…my wife would probably have a better response than I. I’m not a great multi-tasker. Let me correct; I’m a terrible multi-tasker. Nope, still not right. Actually, I’m flat-out incapable of multitasking. The affect is that when I get in my head, I may be there for days and otherwise completely useless for anything other than writing. God bless her for it. She’s very patient with me. I guess it’s because I’m pretty handy the other half of the time.
Is writing your full time job? If not, may I ask what you do by day?
Unfortunately, no. First Night of Summer is my debut novel. Although it’s doing well, I still gotta pay them bills. My wife and I own and operate an e-retail business. That is the day job.
Who are some of your favorite authors?
Dean Koontz. Vince Flynn. James Patterson. J.K. Rowling. Christopher Paolini. Laura Hillenbrand. Lots of others, but those are my top few. The first three are also big influences in my style and motivation. Vince played a huge part in my writing career before he died of cancer. If not for him, I would not be writing this. R.I.P.
What are you reading now?
Odd Interlude by Dean Koontz. A Feast for Crows by George R.R. Martin.
Are you working on your next novel? Can you tell us a little about it?
My next release will confront another prominent, but slightly less controversial, domestic issue. The storyline follows a mother and father as they struggle to raise their children through bouts of poverty, issues with alcohol, and domestic violence. Lines between antagonist and protagonist are blurred, the affects of a poor home life reach beyond the home, and the almost certain cause and effect that hurt people hurt people is undeniable. Humans are infinitely complex and I never get tired of exploring our capacity for construction—and destruction.
Fun questions:
Your novel will be a movie. Who would you cast?
Isaac: Josh Duhamel. I’d love to see him play a serious, kind of rugged role.
Sarah: Hmmm. Need a good-looking, youngish blonde mom. Classic, but someone who can play a damaged past. Someone who has overcome hardship once, and can do it again. Michelle Williams, perhaps.
Ricky: Jim Caviezel. He would probably hate the role, but I’ve pictured him since I created Ricky. I think he’s a dynamic enough actor to pull it off. Plus he has those piercing light eyes.
WHEN TRAGEDY STRIKES, a father discovers that a journey of misfortune is sometimes the path to deliverance. The quaint mountain town of Ruidoso, New Mexico, is the perfect place for Isaac Snow to raise his family. But when eight-year-old daughters, Caroline and Josie, commit an innocent act of heroism, media coverage attracts the wrong kind of attention. Soon, their life unravels, leading them to the crossroads of love and hate, forgiveness and retribution.
In the dark hours of a drizzly morning, Isaac, an ex-air force pilot, wakes to find a masked intruder cradling one of the twins in his arms. Before he can react, the man in black leaps through the nearest window, plummeting in a tangle of body parts and glass. Isaac charges in pursuit, but is suddenly faced with a new dilemma. Caroline is unconscious, lying facedown in the lawn, cuts from the shattered window saturating her pajamas. If he gives chase, his little girl will surely bleed to death.
From a secretive loner with a pension for unrestrained violence to the pristine granite peaks of the Rocky Mountains–from laughter filled family dinners to a string of cross-country abductions, LANDON PARHAM’S debut novel relentlessly explores the horrific realities of unnatural lust and obsession. Taken well beyond the investigation and law-enforcement tactics, you’ll find yourself steeped in journey of evil and torment, and the power of family that overcomes it all. Suspenseful, bold and meticulously researched; a true psychological thriller that captures the heart.
“Thoroughly engaging from start to finish…Overwhelming love, fear, self-doubt, and rage…emotions any parent could relate to. A foe that readers will want to see defeated, abolished, ground to dust.”
–Sandra Brown, #1 New York Times bestselling author of LETHAL
“FIRST NIGHT OF SUMMER is a wonderfully written tale of secrets, subterfuge and their effects on one family. Landon Parham’s debut thriller is a smooth mix of C.J. Box with Harlan Coben in an angst-riddled novel staged in the murky half-light of moral complexity. The book’s simple, ironic title belies its fully realized characterizations and multi-layered plot, serving up a superb cat-and-mouse game where very little is what it first appears to be.”
–Jon Land, bestselling author of STRONG RAIN FALLING
“First Night of Summer” Excerpt- Chapter Six
There was calm before the storm. Like fire and water, the inferno in Isaac’s eyes reached across the room and lit the violent waves dwelling in Ricky’s baby blues.
Not a split second lapsed between realization and reaction. There was never fear or hesitation, only a primal urge to protect his family. A threat cannot be posed if it does not exist, and he fully intended to eliminate the threat completely.
He raced to the window and noticed that both beds were empty. That was what training at speeds well beyond the sound barrier did. It honed an ability to think and work at the same time, in the blink of an eye, blending thoughts and actions into instinct.
The man in black must have known what was going to happen. He dropped the girl from his arms and simultaneously sprang in the opposite direction. The window was open, but not enough to accommodate the violent exit.
The child’s body hit the floor, followed by a crashing of glass. Like it was nothing more than a soap bubble, the window shattered, taking half the frame with it. The masked man fell to the lawn in a storm of debris.
Isaac was in hot pursuit, about to jump out the mangled opening. But the body, which he recognized as Josie’s, was in the way. Where is Caroline? He put his palms on the windowsill, broken glass lacerating them, and looked out. Not three feet away was the intruder. As quickly as he had flown through the window, he got to his feet and ran. And there, lying motionless on the rain-soaked lawn, Isaac found the answer to his question.
Shards of glass covered Caroline’s body. The bastard had landed right on top of her, smashing jagged pieces between their bodies.
Isaac was prepared to hurl himself out the window and give chase. Backing down was not in his nature. He had killed before and knew he was capable of doing it again. And this time, he really wanted to. He was about to do so when the bedroom lights turned on.
“What’s going on in here?” Sarah demanded. She stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of his boxers and a baggy shirt. “I heard glass—”
“Call nine one one!” he barked.
“Josie!” Her face was stricken with horror as she rushed forward. “What the hell happened?”
“Call the police. Now! Someone tried to kidnap them. She’s fine,” he said, meaning Josie.
In fact, he didn’t know for certain that she was fine. He had, however, noticed the strip of tape over her mouth. Dead people didn’t scream, so he assumed the best. She was alive but knocked out or drugged. There was no time to stop and see.
Sarah was frantic. Her eyes searched the room for Caroline. “Where’s Caroline? Where is she?”
“She’s out the window.” He watched the masked man run away. “Now please, honey. Get the phone, call nine one one, and come back.”
With his hands still on the windowsill, disregarding the little cuts and stabs, he vaulted through the open space. He landed over Caroline with one foot planted on either side of her. The blades of grass were soft. The fragments of glass, however, were not. They drove into his feet like nails, but he put the pain aside. His focus was too solitary to allow interference.
The bedroom lights lit the small patch of lawn where she laid, and he knelt. Outside of their island, the night consumed everything. He was about to run after the son of a bitch who had just disappeared behind the Howard’s home, but he stopped short. Caroline’s white sleeping shirt was stained crimson all around the neckline and chest. Had Sarah not flipped on the lights, he never would have seen it. She was hurt badly.
He heard Sarah’s feet pound down the hall and into the kitchen. In a few seconds, she was giving the operator an address and explaining the situation.
In the back of his mind, Isaac thought, I should go after him. But he couldn’t force himself to leave his little girl. Even if I catch him, what good would it do if Caroline bleeds to death? His world had shrunk to a tiny space in the great big mountain night. Outside of that, nothing mattered. Everything else was diminished. He could faintly hear Sarah asking Josie to wake up and the distant sound of an engine revving to life.
Caroline wore a pair of cotton pajama pants with different-colored hearts. The fabric was pulled up around her knees and exposed several scratches. A bead of blood ran down one calf. It was nothing compared to the stain growing around the collar of her shirt.
Moving someone who had just suffered a trauma injury was the last thing you were supposed to do. But Isaac had no choice. The way she was laying, he couldn’t see where all the blood was coming from. He gingerly rolled her flat and almost vomited at what he saw.
The side of her neck was completely sliced open. Blood literally poured from the flesh. The flow was constant and unrelenting. The gruesomeness of the laceration was not the cause for Isaac’s sickness. He had seen much worse. The gut-wrenching heave came from a sobering realization that she might be broken beyond repair. The cut was too deep, too wide, and in the wrong spot. A pool of red was already spread beneath her. The essence of her life slowly covered the green grass. He clenched his teeth and shut off emotions. His baby was dying. He had to do something.
Genre: Suspense / Crime
Published by: Valiant Books
Publication Date: 02/15/2013
Number of Pages: 315
ISBN:
0988802503 ebook
978-0988802506 hardcover
978-0988802513 paperback
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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.
