Guest Author Elisabeth Doyle

I truly believe that the heroes of today, and in the past, are those that give of themselves to fight and protect for our freedom.   So when our friend Nicole from Tribute Books contacted me about today’s showcased book and author, it was an automatic yes.  I have the honor to introduce you to Ms. Elisabeth Doyle!

ELISABETH DOYLE

About the Author:
Elisabeth Doyle is a writer and attorney living in Washington, D.C. She studied fiction writing at Sarah Lawrence College and the University at Albany, and is completing a Masters of Laws Degree at Georgetown University Law Center.  Ms. Doyle’s short fiction was published in the literary journal Nadir and was awarded the University at Albany’s Lovenheim Prize for best short fiction. Her first short film, Hard Hearted One, was admitted into the Philadelphia Festival of World Cinema and the Street Films Film Festival, and was shown on Public Television and Manhattan Cable. War Stories is her first collection of short fiction.
You can connect with Elisabeth at her website, blog and official tour site.

Q&A with Ms. Doyle

 Please tell us about your current release.
War Stories is a lean collection of short fiction – nine stories – many of which are set against the backdrop of contemporary conflicts, including the war in Vietnam and current wars.

Can you tell us about the journey that led you to write your book?
In January 2002, I traveled for the first time to the country of Vietnam. I went there on a bit of a lark – a childhood friend of my mother’s was working there and had extended a kind of “open invitation” to visit.  For some reason, I decided to go.  Maybe I shouldn’t say “for some reason” – I was born during the war in Vietnam, and the conflict endured throughout my early childhood. I had vague memories of the images of war that flickered on our small television screen each evening. Usually, these images were mere background to our lives – they played out as my mother cooked dinner.  No one seemed to pay great attention.  I also had vague recollections of the scenery of Vietnam – some mountains and a village. I’m not sure where or when I saw those early childhood images – perhaps on a news program, or in a later documentary.

In any event, I traveled to Vietnam in 2002, and it’s safe to say that the experience changed my life, and opened for me new doors of interest, of passion, and of compassion.  I returned with a deep and abiding interest in the war in Vietnam, its history, and its effect on American soldiers and Vietnamese citizens. I read – and continue to read – anything that I can get my hands on regarding the war. I focused primarily on first-hand autobiographical accounts by soldiers.

I had a background in fiction writing, but hadn’t written a short story in years. When I relocated to Washington in late 2006, I resolved to return to writing, mostly at the urging of my mother and grandparents.  Away from the distractions of family and familiarity, in a new city, I was able to find the peace in which to write.  It should be noted that I did not set out to write a collection of short stories on the topic of war. In fact, I did not set out to write a collection, at all. I just wrote – one story after another.  And what I found, as I wrote, was that the theme of war continued to assert itself in each of these stories, in one way or another.  After years of reading and learning, war had apparently become the foremost, organizing principle in my mind; the circumstance around which all other things revolved.  It emerged as a theme that linked all of the new stories that I wrote, without conscious or deliberate effort or planning on my part.

It should be noted that these are not combat stories, nor do they attempt or purport to be historically accurate or to give voice to the actual experience of those who have fought. Only those who have had to fight, or who have lived in a war zone, can truly understand that experience.  These stories are just that – stories – written with the deepest respect and empathy for those who have found themselves in such extreme circumstances, and who have faced the kind of difficult, unforgiving choices that most of us can only imagine.

Can you tell us about the story behind your book cover?
Sure.  Well, suffice it to say that the book cover underwent a lot of changes, much to the annoyance of the cover designer, who (nonetheless) was a wonderfully good sport about it.  It was important to me to create a cover that was NOT obviously rooted in or reflective of the topic of war.  This was so because, first, the title “War Stories” is used both literally and figuratively.  That is, while the majority of stories in the collection are set against the backdrop of war, other stories are not. These additional tales reflect “war stories” of another kind – the kind that we might all experience.  So I wanted the cover to encompass all the themes in the book.

I chose to use a triptych of photos – a series of photos that could each be traced, if a reader so desired, to one or more of the stories in the collection. The characters in the photos are loosely representative of several of the characters in the book.

What approaches have you taken to marketing your book?
The book has been sent out to numerous reviewers and publications, in the hopes of garnering print reviews, and will be presented to bookstores, with stores having the option to carry the book or not. The book also has a website, through which people can purchase the collection, and a face book page.  I’ve provided free advance copies to certain friends and colleagues, as well, in the hopes that – if they enjoy the stories – they will post reviews on their face book pages.

What book on the market does yours compare to? How is your book different?
I don’t really think that I can make comparisons – each book, each author, are entirely unique.

What would you say is your most interesting writing quirk?
I tend to write in a “spare” style, and make a deliberate, conscious effort to avoid sentimentality or over-statement of any kind.  That’s just me. I don’t know that I succeed, but I try to convey the characters’ circumstances and states of mind without excess or manipulation of the reader.  I also deliberately write without any “message” or agenda in mind.  None of these stories, even those that are set against the backdrop of war, are intended to convey any kind of political message, and none of them were written with any kind of agenda or judgment.  I wouldn’t even begin to know how to write a story with an agenda or message in mind.  In general, I write short stories as a series of vignettes – as moments in time, things that happened – from which the reader can draw his or her own conclusions, messages, etc. I prefer to leave the interpretation of the “meaning” of my stories in the hands of the reader.

Open your book to a random page and tell us what’s happening.
I did as you asked and opened the book to a random page. It happens to be the first page of the story “The Deepest, Darkest Part of the Woods,” on page 53.  This happens to be one of my favorite stories, and one of the last in the collection that I completed.  It’s one of the stories in the collection that takes the most risks, I think, and revolves around a young veteran who returns to his suburban neighborhood and struggles to re-integrate.  This first page is also one of my favorites in the book, as it describes the return of this young man – and others like him – into a familiar setting that is now entirely unfamiliar to him.

Do you plan any subsequent books?
I hope so.  I’ve begun a growing list of new short story ideas, and I hope to begin working on them in the very near future. I’m looking forward to that.   I also hope to segue back into filmmaking at some point, to work on one or more of the documentary projects that I’d like to explore.

Tell us what you’re reading at the moment and what you think of it.
I’m a bit of a history buff, and (in particular) have a longstanding interest in the civil war and the civil rights movement. I’m currently (slowly) reading through the Taylor Branch trilogy about the civil rights movement – I’m working on Part 1 of the series, which is called “Parting the Waters.”  I’m so deeply moved by the courage of those individuals – known and unknown – who put their lives and safety on the line for the higher purpose of justice and freedom.  I can only hope to develop some small fragment of that kind of courage. I also just purchased several new books – “The Fiery Trial – Abraham Lincoln and American Slavery” by Eric Foner, and a history of the civil war by Shelby Foote.  I think the civil war and the civil rights movement are pinnacles in the evolution of our nation, and moments in which we can observe what is highest, best, and most divine in humanity.

ABOUT THE BOOK

We all carry our own battle scars. 

This is the premise of War Stories, a rich collection of short fiction that draws upon both the literal and figurative meaning of its title.  Through a diverse array of characters, settings, and circumstances, War Stories delivers a series of powerful tales from the home front of war: the stories of parents, siblings, and spouses of those who have fought, as well as those who have returned from battle.

Set against the backdrop of contemporary conflicts, War Stories’ compelling nine narratives tell of a wounded veteran who seeks renewal through an imagined relationship with a neighborhood girl, a grieving father who finds peace and reconciliation at the site of a disastrous bus crash, a young woman who searches for identity and meaning in the wake of her husband’s injury, and an urban teenager engaged in a fateful standoff with local recruiters. Interspersed with these tales are powerful, non-traditional “war stories” – of youth, unexpected loss, and heartbreaking love.

War Stories’ thoughtful and beautifully crafted tales, which range in style from deceptively simple to rich and complex, tell of people young and old, male and female, who share two things: humanity and resilience. These diverse and deftly written stories are joined through Elisabeth Doyle’s remarkable style and ease in creating a universe full of despair, hope, and dreams. At turns tender and harsh, tragic and yearning, these stories will leave you wanting more.

THANKS TO AUTHOR, ELISABETH DOYLE, I HAVE ONE (1) PB
COPY OF HER BOOK TO GIVE AWAY. U.S RESIDENTS ONLY

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

DISCLAIMER
Giveaway copies are supplied and shipped to winners
via publisher, agent and/or author. This blog hosts
the giveaway on behalf of the above.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.

GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE “WAR STORIES” by Elisabeth Doyle ENDED

SEPTEMBER 19th to OCTOBER 3rd, 2012

 

WAR STORIES
by ELISABETH DOYLE

SYNOPSIS:
–We all carry our own battle scars. 
–This is the premise of War Stories, a rich collection of short fiction that draws upon both the literal and figurative meaning of its title.  Through a diverse array of characters, settings, and circumstances, War Stories delivers a series of powerful tales from the home front of war: the stories of parents, siblings, and spouses of those who have fought, as well as those who have returned from battle.
–Set against the backdrop of contemporary conflicts, War Stories’ compelling nine narratives tell of a wounded veteran who seeks renewal through an imagined relationship with a neighborhood girl, a grieving father who finds peace and reconciliation at the site of a disastrous bus crash, a young woman who searches for identity and meaning in the wake of her husband’s injury, and an urban teenager engaged in a fateful standoff with local recruiters. Interspersed with these tales are powerful, non-traditional “war stories” – of youth, unexpected loss, and heartbreaking love.
–War Stories’ thoughtful and beautifully crafted tales, which range in style from deceptively simple to rich and complex, tell of people young and old, male and female, who share two things: humanity and resilience. These diverse and deftly written stories are joined through Elisabeth Doyle’s remarkable style and ease in creating a universe full of despair, hope, and dreams. At turns tender and harsh, tragic and yearning, these stories will leave you wanting more.
THANKS TO AUTHOR, ELISABETH DOYLE,
I HAVE ONE ( 1 ) COPY OF THIS
BOOK TO GIVE AWAY.
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W.W.W. Wednesdays

    

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What are you currently reading?


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Teaser Tuesday

    

Hosted by Miz B at Should Be Reading

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
*Grab your current read
*Open to a random page
*Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
*BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
*Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

  The box had been sealed with clear packing tape. She’d noted that the label was printed with her name and address, but not in the sender’s information. That was curious, but she didn’t think too much of it as she split the tape, folded back the flaps, and lifted out the gift-wrappd box inside.
  She never could have prepared herself for the hideous surprise it contained. 


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Monday Memes

Hosted by Miz B at Should Be Reading

Today’s muse:
What is your least favorite book? Why?

My Thoughts:
I am a bit confused by this question, but then so is the host.   Does it mean that the book is a favorite, but in ranking, on the last rung?  Or does it mean what is the book, of all read, that you liked the least?

I’m going to answer the latter.  However, even that is a tough question.

If it was a book that I didn’t like,  of all the books I have read (at my age that’s a lot of books), I still don’t know the answer.  If it was a specific book, that I didn’t like it, then I have no memory of it.  The only books that make a memorable mark, are the good books.  I know I have read many books, that I have put aside because I didn’t like or DNF, but once I put it aside, I never think about or recall it unless I look at my spreadsheets.

 I would have to say, generally, my least favorite books are those that are by authors that are on my “authors to read” list, books that I can’t wait for publication so that I can read it, and then it turns out to be a disappointment.  Now that has happened on many occasions.  And if it does, I tend to take a break from that writer.  For example.  I HAD to read Danielle Steel’s books as soon as one came out.  I don’t remember the titles, since it was years ago, but I do recall that I read 2 of her subsequent books and both seemed to be written in a rushed manner, not like the early Danielle Steel books, like The Ring, which I do remember  was the first Steel book I read and which was the book that that made me put her on “authors to read list” and that was eons ago (approx. 40 years ago).  Maybe it’s time to pick up one of her recent books since it has been years since I have read one of her novels.

What about you?  Do you have a least favorite book?

 September is being hosted by BookNAround

Mailbox Monday was created by Marcia of A girl and her books and is now on tour.
According to Marcia, “Mailbox Monday is the gathering place for readers to share the books that came into their house last week. Warning: Mailbox Monday can lead to envy, toppling TBR piles and humongous wish lists.”

No books this week, but then, it is a good
thing.  I need to get up to speed with reading.

Guest Author Stephen Woodfin

I am participating in the  BEST INDIE BOOK FESTIVAL, Thriller Event, hosted by author, frequent visitor and friend Melissa Foster, author of Come Back To Me, Megan’s Way, and Chasing Amanda.  She has gathered a number of book bloggers to introduce ten (10) authors this week.  I have the honor of  introducing you to Stephen Woodfin.  So I ask, if you can help me, give him a warm welcome to CMash Reads.
 STEPHEN WOODFIN
Hi Stephen and welcome to CMash Reads.  It’s an honor to have you visit today.  I have a few questions that I am sure my followers would be interested in knowing.
CM:  Can you tell us a little bit about you and your book, Last One Chosen?
 SW:  I live in a small town in East Texas where I practice law, write books and study the publishing business. My wife of 26 years is an occupational therapist who works in pediatric OT. I have three daughters, the youngest of which graduated from high school in May 2012. I blog regularly at http://venturegalleries.com/author/stephenwoodfin/ , and my Twitter handle is @stephenwoodfin.Last One Chosen, the first novel I wrote, is a fast-paced legal thriller in which the government attempts to silence a brilliant scientist who will not assist in a plan to deploy the ultimate weapon of mass destruction. It is a parable about what can happen to a genuinely good person who refuses to violate his conscience. It is the first book in the Revelation Trilogy.

CM:  What or where did you draw from for the plot of your book?  And what type of research you did?
SW:  Take this notion: A person who is without reproach faces the raw power of government and refuses to compromise his moral values. Set the story in the present, make what is at stake a matter of life and death for many people and see where it leads. That’s about as much as I can tell you about the genesis of the story. I wrote about places I knew from visiting or living in them. And I wrote about what I have observed of human nature. So, the research was really investigation into the human condition.
CM: Are your characters based on people you know and/or have met?  If you were offered a movie deal of your book, who would you cast for your characters?
SW: I suppose the two lawyers in the book, Ert Roberts and Leadoff Pickens, are based on my own personal story and the story of a young protégé of mine. The other characters are not based on any specific people, but represent a lot of different types of people: a TV actor, a business man who got caught stealing, a Gay Black preacher, a woman of the street, an establishment minister who loses his job. The bad guys are remorse and conniving, and will stop at nothing to accomplish their goals.I actually have had an inquiry about the movie rights to Last One Chosen, but nothing has been finalized. In the movie, I could see this cast: Joshua Issacharoff (Benicio Del Toro); Leadoff Pickens (Matt Damon); Maggie (Charlize Theron); Ert Roberts (Gregory Peck a little older than when he played Atticus Finch).

CM: Is your next book in the works?  Can you give us some hints about it?
SW: I have written and published five novels. Two of them are the second and third installments of the Revelation Trilogy. Those books, Next Best Hope and The Revelation Effect, deal with the relationship between faith and politics, although they are also fast-paced legal thrillers. In the first book, a group that calls itself the Christian Militants attempts to overthrow the United States government, and all hell breaks loose. In the second, the body count grows as a splinter group resorts to acts of terrorism to destabilize the government.I have also written a football book called Money is Thicker Than Blood: Murder in the SEC and a book which features a WWII vet with Alzheimer’s disease called The Warrior With Alzheimers: The Battle for Justice. Alzheimer’s disease is an issue that is a passion of mine because my mother fought a terrible ten-year struggle against it.The book I am working on now also deals with an Alzheimer’s theme, but from a totally different angle. I hope to have it finished in time to release it before the coming holiday season.

CM:  What are you currently reading?  Some of your favorite authors?
SW: I recently finished Creole Belle by James Lee Burke. I read all his work. My other favorite writers are probably Robert Parker and Ernest Hemingway. I read a lot of novels by independent writers and plan to read all the thrillers that are finalists in the Best Indie Books of 2012 list. I also plan to read Hugh Howey’s Wool, which I have just started.

Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to stop by.  It has been a pleasure meeting you!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Stephen Woodfin holds a BA in religion from Dallas Baptist University, graduating magna cum laude in 1974, as well as a Master of Divinity Degree from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, NC (1979) where he received the Cullen Midler Theology Award for the best paper submitted in Systematic Theology. In 1985, he graduated from Baylor Law School with a JD and gained admittance to the State Bar of Texas. He has practiced law for the last twenty-six years. He often tells juries that he went to seminary to get the Lord on his side and to law school to get the Devil on his side.

Woodfin has appeared as a featured speaker at state and national legal seminars, authoring papers for these appearances and for the Texas Paralegal Journal.  His presentation at the American Bar Association Annual Seminar on Class Actions was one of the highest ranked of the seminar.

In 2008, Woodfin’s courtroom short story, The Promiscuity Defense, appeared in the Northeast Texas Writers’ Organization (NETWO) Anthology.  Also in 2008, Writer’s Digest published his story, He Ain’t Leaving; He’s Gone, in its 2008 Short Short Story Collection. The story, which features a protagonist suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, ranked 15th out of over 7,000 submissions.

Woodfin is the author of five legal thrillers, a collection of short stories and standalone satirical five thousand word piece about a lawyer turned vampire who faces an ethical dilemma when he becomes a born-again Christian.
You can visit Stephen at his website, FB, Twitter and blog.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Homeland Security agents raid a small East Texas town and arrest a humble blue-collar worker for domestic terrorism and espionage. When two country lawyers take on his defense and fight to prevent their client’s execution, they learn that he holds the secret of a doomsday device, a secret he will not divulge, even under torture. At the trial’s astonishing conclusion, they realize for the first time that their struggle was not only about justice, but also redemption.

LAST ONE CHOSEN chronicles what can happen when one person motivated purely by the desire to do good for his fellow human beings is willing to give his life to oppose the forces of evil.

Join Stephen Woodfin and 9 other award-winning authors in the BEST INDIE BOOK FESTIVAL,

Featuring 10 Literary Fiction & Thriller Titles!
TWO DAYS ONLY!

Tues. Sept. 18-Wed., Sept. 19th.

10 Award winning books and SEVERAL chances to win a

$10, $20, or $50 Amazon gift card

(3 lucky WINNERS will be chosen!)

Click the image below for details

World Literary Cafe- Best Indie Book

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

Guest Author Giacomo Giammatteo

Today is an exciting day for me.  I have the honor and pleasure to introduce you to a new author, that I have met through Partners In Crime Tours, as we kick off his 2 month tour.  Remember this name because after reading his book, I am sure you will be hearing a lot about him!!  I would like you to meet Mr. Giacomo Giammatteo!!

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 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.
Visit Giacomo at his WebsiteFacebook  and Twitter.

ABOUT THE BOOK

A string of brutal murders has bodies piling up in Brooklyn, and Detective Frankie Donovan knows what is going on. Clues left at the crime scenes point to someone from the old neighborhood, and that isn’t good.

Frankie has taken two oaths in his life—the one he took to uphold the law when he became a cop, and the one he took with his two best friends when they were eight years old and inseparable.

Those relationships have forced Frankie to make many tough decisions, but now he faces the toughest one of his life; he has five murders to solve and one of those two friends is responsible. If Frankie lets him go, he breaks the oath he took as a cop and risks losing his job. But if he tries to bring him in, he breaks the oath he kept for twenty-five years—and risks losing his life.

In the neighborhood where Frankie Donovan grew up, you never broke an oath.
Read my review here.

Watch the trailer:

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1
Rule Number One―Murder Takes TimeBrooklyn, New York—Current Day
He sipped the last of a shitty cup of coffee and stared across the street at Nino Tortella, the guy he was going to kill. Killing was an art, requiring finesse, planning, skill—and above all—patience. Patience had been the most difficult to learn. The killing came naturally. He cursed himself for that. Prayed to God every night for the strength to stop. But so far God hadn’t answered him, and there were still a few more people that needed killing.The waitress leaned forward to refill his cup, her cleavage a hint that more than coffee was being offered. “You want more?”He waved a hand—Nino was heading towards his car. “Just the check, please.”
From behind her ear she pulled a yellow pencil, tucked into a tight bun of red hair, then opened the receipt book clipped to the pocket of her apron. Cigarette smoke lingered on her breath, almost hidden by the gum she chewed.Spearmint, he thought, and smiled. It was his favorite, too.He waited for her to leave, scanned the table and booth, plucked a few strands of hair from the torn cushion and a fingernail clipping from the windowsill. After putting them into a small plastic bag, he wiped everything with a napkin. The check was $4.28. He pulled a five and a one from his money clip and left them on the table. As he moved to the door he glanced out the window. Nino already left the lot, but it was Thursday, and on Thursdays Nino stopped for pizza.He parked three blocks from Nino’s house, finding a spot where the snow wasn’t piled high at the curb. After pulling a black wool cap over his forehead, he put leather gloves on, raised the collar on his coat then grabbed his black sports bag. Favoring his left leg, he walked down the street, dropping his eyes if he passed someone. The last thing he wanted was a witness remembering his face.He counted the joints in the concrete as he walked. Numbers forced him to think logically, kept his mind off what he had to do. He didn’t want to kill Nino. He had to. It seemed as if all of his life he was doing things he didn’t want to do. He shook his head, focused on the numbers again.When he drew near the house, he cast a quick glance to ensure the neighbors’ cars weren’t there. The door took less than thirty seconds to open. He kept his hat and gloves on, walked into the kitchen, and set his bag on the counter. He removed a pair of tongs and a shot glass, and set them on the coffee table.
A glance around the room had him straightening pictures and moving dirty dishes to the sink. A picture of an older woman stared at him from a shelf above an end table. Might be his mother, he thought, and gently set it face down. Back to the kitchen. He opened the top of the black bag and removed two smaller bags. He set one in the fridge and took the other with him.

The contents of the second bag—hair and other items—he spread throughout the living room. The crime scene unit would get a kick out of that. He did one final check, removed a baseball bat from the bag, then sat on the couch behind the door. The bat lay on the cushion beside him. While he stretched his legs and leaned back, he thought about Nino. It would be easy to just shoot him, but that wouldn’t be fair. Renzo suffered for what he did; Nino should too. He remembered Mamma Rosa’s warnings, that the things people did would come back to haunt them. Nino would pay the price now.

A car pulled into the driveway. He sat up straight and gripped the bat.

#
Nino had a smile on his face and a bounce in his step. It was only Thursday and already he’d sold more cars than he needed for the month. Maybe I’ll buy Anna that coat she’s been wanting. Nino’s stomach rumbled, but he had a pepperoni pizza in his hand and a bottle of Chianti tucked into his coat pocket. He opened the door, slipped the keys into his pocket, and kicked the door shut with his foot.

There was a black sports bag on the kitchen table. Wasn’t there before, Nino thought. A shiver ran down his spine. He felt a presence in the house. Before he could turn, something slammed into his back. His right kidney exploded with pain.

“Goddamn.” Nino dropped the pizza, stumbled, and fell to the floor. His right side felt on fire. As his left shoulder collided with the hardwood floor, a bat hit him just above the wrist. The snap of bones sounded just before the surge of pain.

“Fuck.” He rolled to the side and reached for his gun.

The bat swung again.

Nino’s ribs cracked like kindling. Something sharp jabbed deep inside him. His mouth filled with a warm coppery taste. Nino recognized the man who stood above him. “Anything you want,” he said.
“Just kill me quick.”

#
The bat struck Nino’s knee, the crunch of bones drowned by his screams. The man stared at Nino. Let him cry. “I got Renzo last month. You hear about that?”

Nino nodded.

He tapped Nino’s pocket with his foot, felt a gun. “If you reach for the gun, I’ll hit you again.”

Another nod.

He knelt next to Nino, took the shot glass from the coffee table. “Open your mouth.”

Nino opened his eyes wide and shook his head.

The man grabbed the tongs, shoved one end into the side of Nino’s mouth, and squeezed the handles, opening the tongs wide. When he had Nino’s mouth pried open enough, he shoved the shot glass in. It was a small shot glass, but to Nino it must have seemed big enough to hold a gallon. Nino tried screaming, but couldn’t. Couldn’t talk either, with the glass in there. Nino’s head bobbed, and he squirmed. Nothing but grunts came out—fear-tinged mumbles coated with blood.

The man stood, glared at Nino. Gripped the bat with both hands. “You shouldn’t have done it.”

A dark stain spread on the front of Nino’s pants. The stench of excrement filled the room. He stared at Nino, raised the bat over his head, and swung. Nino’s lips burst open, splitting apart from both sides. Teeth shattered, some flying out, others embedding into the flesh of his cheeks. The shot glass exploded. Glass dug deep gouges into his tongue, severing the front of it. Shards of glass pierced his lips and tunneled into his throat.

He stared at Nino’s face, the strips of torn flesh covered in blood. He gulped. Almost stopped. But then he thought about what Nino had done, and swung the bat one more time. After that, Nino Tortella lay still.

He returned to the kitchen and took a small box from the bag on the counter then went back to the living room. Inside the box were more hairs, blood, skin, and other evidence. He spread the items over and around the body then made a final trip to the kitchen to clean up. He undressed and placed his clothes into a large plastic bag, tied it, and set it inside the black bag. He took out a change of clothes, including shoes and plastic covers for them. Careful not to step in any blood, he went back to stand over the body.

Nino lay in his own piss, shit, and blood, eyes wide-open, mouth agape.

You should never have done it, Nino.

He blessed himself with the sign of the cross while he repeated the Trinitarian formula. “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” Then he shot Nino. Once in the head. Once in the heart. An eye for an eye. And then some.

Before stepping out the door, he removed the plastic covers for his shoes, placed them into the bag, then closed and locked the door behind him. The wind had picked up since he arrived, bringing a cold bite with it. He turned his collar up and tucked his head into his chest.
Forgive me, Father, for what I have done.

He walked two more blocks, almost to the car, when an image of Donnie Amato appeared in his head.

And for what I still have to do.

 

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GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE “MURDER TAKES TIME” by Giacomo Giammatteo ENDED

SEPTEMBER 15th to SEPTEMBER 29th, 2012

 

MURDER TAKES TIME
by GIACOMO GIAMMATTEO

SYNOPSIS:
A string of brutal murders has bodies piling up in Brooklyn, and Detective Frankie Donovan knows what is going on. Clues left at the crime scenes point to someone from the old neighborhood, and that isn’t good.
Frankie has taken two oaths in his life—the one he took to uphold the law when he became a cop, and the one he took with his two best friends when they were eight years old and inseparable.
Those relationships have forced Frankie to make many tough decisions, but now he faces the toughest one of his life; he has five murders to solve and one of those two friends is responsible. If Frankie lets him go, he breaks the oath he took as a cop and risks losing his job. But if he tries to bring him in, he breaks the oath he kept for twenty-five years—and risks losing his life.
In the neighborhood where Frankie Donovan grew up, you never broke an oath.
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