Archive for October 20, 2016

spooktacular 2016

It’s that time again. Time for the 2016 Spooktacular Giveaway Hop!

For my stop, I’m giving away a print book from Amazon valued up to $20. Winner’s choice. International entries are welcome.

Entry is super easy. Just leave your email address and tell me what book or movie scared you the most.

Giveaway ends October 31st.

Good Luck!

Follow the tour from the links below for a chance at more fun prizes!

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky kitty below!

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Title: KILLER PURSUIT
Author: Jeff Gunhus
Publisher: Seven Guns Press
Pages: 352
Genre: Thriller

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My Review

I’ve read and enjoyed some books by Jeff Gunhus. His middle grade adventure series with his delightful character, Jack Templar, Monster Hunter is a fun one for all ages. And his adult horror novels, Night Chill #1 and #2, fed my horror craving just fine. Knowing how much I enjoyed his way with words and intricate plots, I couldn’t wait to read this book.

Set in the present, this story could be something you viewed when you turned on the news or opened a newspaper. Politicians, big brother lurking in the shadows, assassins, serial killers, FBI agents, a prostitute, and a reporter. What connects them? Murder and blackmail.

The author’s characters are genuine and complex. The plot is thrilling and horrific. The writing is excellent. And the author wraps things up nicely, answering all of your questions, and giving a very touching final scene.

This is the second book featuring Jeff’s powerful character, Special Agent Allison McNeil. I have read the first book, but these are intended to easily be read as stand alones. The author fills you in on some previous events without slowing down the pace, and I see no problem with you reading this without having read the other book.

Jeff Gunhus has really honed his storytelling craft with this thriller. I devoured it in great big gulps, only slowing to graze near the end. Didn’t want to miss all those little details I was wanting.

5 Stars

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Synopsis

When a high-society call girl is murdered in her Georgetown home, investigators find two cameras hidden in the walls of her bedroom. One has its memory erased, presumably by the murderer. The second is connected to the Internet through an encrypted connection…and no-one knows who’s on the other end.

Special Agent Allison McNeil is asked by beleaguered FBI Director Clarence Mason to run an off-the-record investigation of the murder because of the murder’s similarity to a case she worked a year earlier. Allison knows the most direct path to apprehending the killer is to find the videos, but the rumors that the victim’s client list may have included Mason’s political enemies has her worried about the director’s motives. As she starts her investigation, she quickly discovers that she’s not the only one pursuing the videos. In fact, the most aggressive person racing against her might be the murderer himself.

For More Information

Killer Pursuit is available at Amazon.

Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

 

Book Excerpt:

Allison McNeil tensed when she spotted the first shadow dart through the mist and take cover behind a tree. In the early-morning light it took her a while to pick out all six members of the Hostage Rescue Team approaching the cabin, but within a minute she could clearly see the tactical team converging on their target.

The small building stood on a rise, up from the swampy, flood-prone land around it. Wood-slated walls tilted precariously inward, twisting the windows into deformed rectangles. Moss and dead leaves covered the roof. The place smelled and looked like decay, well on its way to inevitable reclamation by the weeds and vines choking the cabin to a miserable death.

And, if Allison was right, the place deserved what it got. Hell, if she was right, she had half a mind to take a match to the place after everything was done.

She hunkered down behind a fallen tree, her head barely clearing the top to see the building and the team closing in. A trickle of sweat started at the base of her neck and went the length of her spine. She adjusted the Kevlar vest, under her light windbreaker emblazoned with large yellow letters. FBI. It felt ridiculous to wear the windbreaker when it was in the ’80s before daybreak with the Louisiana humidity hovering at about a thousand percent, but if it meant that the hotheads with assault rifles could more easily identify her as a friendly, then she was happy to have it.

Garret Morrison shifted his weight next to her, stretching out a leg and rubbing his knee. She gave him a sideways look.

“You all right?” she whispered.

He scowled at her. They both knew she didn’t give a damn about him. The comment was intended as a dig at the fifty-three-year-old Garret who prided himself on being in better shape than the agents beneath him. Even though he ran the Behavioral Analysis Unit, home of the FBI’s fabled profilers who spent more time in the heads of the criminals they chased than in the field, he required an aggressive physical program for his people. Everything about Morrison is a throwback to the old male-dominated Bureau. A slicked-back head of hair with just the right amount of grey to lend him gravitas without making him look old, a square jaw out of a mountaineering magazine, cold steel-blue eyes that seemed to look through people instead of at them. Unless they were trained on an attractive female, in which case his eyes gave their full attention to the area below the chin and above the waistline.

“Worry about yourself,” Garret grumbled. He turned to Doug Browning, a junior agent who followed Garret around like a little puppy. “Jesus, Doug. Not so close.”

Allison turned back to the cabin and raised her binoculars, not bothering to hide the smile on her lips. Garret was a legend in the Bureau for his work hunting America’s worst criminals, but Allison’s own legend had grown since her work on the Arnie Milhouse case a year earlier. While that case had given her credibility, she knew she was just as likely to be referred to as the woman who’d broken Garret Morrison’s nose when he’d made one too many unwanted advances while she was a trainee. And, while she wanted to be known for her work, she didn’t mind that piece of fame following her around.

“Alpha team in position,” said a voice through the small speaker in her ear. She noticed Garret put a finger to the side of his head and nod. He looked over at her.

“You better be right about this,” he whispered.

Allison shook her head. For all his brilliance—and, regardless of how she felt personally about him, she recognized that he was brilliant—Garret’s transparency could border on the inane. What he was really saying was that if the lunatic Allison’s research had tracked to this location wasn’t holed up in this backwoods cabin, if the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team had been activated and deployed for no reason, then the blame would drop on her like a bag of bricks. If Sam Kraw was in there, Allison knew it would be Garret standing in front of the cameras taking credit for the HRT mission and the capture of America’s most wanted fugitive.

She pushed the thought away. As long as they caught the bastard and ended his multi-year killing spree in the Southeast, she didn’t give a damn who got the credit.

Allison moved her binoculars. The tactical team was in place around the cabin, peering through scopes with infrared capabilities. If there was someone hiding in the shadows of a window or doorway, they wouldn’t be hiding for long.

On some signal unseen by Allison, the men began a steady, crouched advance to the building. She realized she was holding her breath so she blew out her air slowly between pinched lips.

“Relax, McNeil,” Garret muttered. “You’re making me nervous.”

The two members of the tactical squad approaching from the front reached the deck that wrapped around the front of the building. As they strode across it, the old wood floorboards groaned. The men froze. The seconds stretched out. Allison became suddenly aware of the hum of insects in the air around her. The dampness of her own skin. The sound of a bird calling in the distance. All of her senses were wired tight. An entire year of her life was wrapped up in the next few seconds. And if she’d got it wrong, Garret would have the ammo he’d been looking for to get her out of his unit once and for all. But she wasn’t worried about herself. What really bothered her was the chance that she had it right, that this was Kraw’s hideout, but that somehow they’d spooked him and he’d already slipped away. If that had happened, he’d be hundreds of miles away by tomorrow, scouting for his next victim as he traveled.

Movement in the cabin. Just a flutter. Like a bird trapped in a cage. Only her intuition told her it was more than a bird. It had been an arm. A human arm. Sam Kraw.

Based on the lack of movement from the tactical team, she realized no one else had seen it.

“I’ve got movement,” she whispered into her mic. “Window to the right of the front door. An arm.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Garret whispered.

Allison ignored him. The men around the cabin responded immediately, reorienting to the front door. Guns pointed at the window.

One of the men produced a miniram, a high impact, brute force breaching tool. Coordinating with his partner, he crouched next to the door while the other man readied a flash-bang grenade.

There was a pause, as if someone had pressed a button on a TV remote. Everyone was in place. The air seemed to still as if the world knew something was about to happen. Allison had her binoculars trained on the window where she’d seen the movement. If Kraw was inside, then the nightmare was almost over. She’d know in a few seconds whether that was the case or not.

But in that second, she saw the movement again.

Only this time, she knew something was wrong.

It was a man’s arm, she saw it clearly this time. But it was too stiff. The color was off. And, attached at the shoulder, she saw a coil of wire.

A mannequin arm on a spring.

Meant to make them think someone was inside.

It was a trap.

About Author Jeff Gunhus

Jeff Gunhus is the USA TODAY bestselling author of thriller and horror novels for adults and the middle grade/YA series, The Templar Chronicles. The first book, Jack Templar Monster Hunter, was written in an effort to get his reluctant reader eleven-year-old son excited about reading. It worked and a new series was born. His books for adults have reached the Top 30 on Amazon, have been recognized as Foreword Reviews Book of the Year Finalists and reached the USA TODAY bestseller list.

After his experience with his son, he is passionate about helping parents reach young reluctant readers and is active in child literacy issues. As a father of five, he leads an active life in Maryland with his wife Nicole by trying to constantly keep up with their kids. In rare moments of quiet, he can be found in the back of the City Dock Cafe in Annapolis working on his next novel or on JeffGunhus.com.

His latest book is the thriller, Killer Pursuit.

For More Information

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Jeff Gunhus is giving away a grand prize of $25 Amazon Gift Card plus one autographed copy of his book and 4 runner ups will receive an autographed copy of his book as well!

Terms & Conditions:

  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • Five winners will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive either the grand prize of a $25 Amazon Gift Card plus one autographed copy of his book or one of 4 autographed copies of his book
  • This giveaway ends midnight October 28.
  • Winner will be contacted via email on October 29.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky kitty below!

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Lookie here. I’ve got your next zombie thriller!

Eat, Slay, Lizt. Fun title, eh? And that cover is awesome. What do you think?

Check it out. Enjoy the glimpse inside the book.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway for a hot pink Kindle Fire!!

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EAT, SLAY, LUZT

Book One

Jillian Stone

 

Genre:  Zombie Adventure Thriller

 

Publisher: Jillian Stone

 

Date of Publication:  October 28, 2016

 

ISBN: 978-0-9963459-0-3

 

Number of pages:  259

Word Count:  60,000

 

Cover Artist: G. J. Stone

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Synopsis

Survival tip #1: When you’re caught in the middle of the zombie apocalypse, get a badass partner.

The zombie apocalypse is on, and Lizzy Davis is determined to survive any way she can. As a surgeon, she’s used to saving lives; not cutting into the basal ganglia to make sure the patient stays dead. When the refugee camp is overrun by zombie hordes, Lizzy manages to escape only to run into Black Hawk pilot Chris Oakley in the middle of the Syrian Desert.

Lizzy and Chris fight off zombie attacks as they make their way toward a joint military air base northeast of Kirkuk. Just one problem, they’ll have to pass through the drone-patrolled DMZ— Dead Meat Zone. To get there, they form uneasy alliances with French-Arab commandos and a black ops interrogator who’s slowly rotting before their eyes.

Along the way, Lizzy and Chris manage to find time for each other—the sizzling red-hot lovemaking kind of time. And who knows? They might have a chance at love if they live long enough.

Warning: Features red hot to erotic love scenes

Amazon

Excerpt:

Syrian Desert, Jordan

190 kilometers SE of Zaatari Refugee Camp

 

He rested the gun on his knee and pulled the bandana off his face. Jeezus, of course, he’d be dusty, grimy and great looking.

“Water?” he croaked.

Z growls gurgled up from the rotten pool of stench surrounding us. Incapacitated biters crawled at the rate of about one meter per hour. But at this exact moment, the newly arrived armed stranger concerned me more than the undead.

I studied the man hunkered down in the sand. A male survivor in good health could be worse than a horde of zombies. Men raped women like me—more than once––then they ate all your food. Worst of all, they wouldn’t hesitate to pimp you out for a meal, ammo, or gasoline.

Like I said, worse than a shitload of zombies.

I scanned the raised bank that bordered the road. The silhouette of something lean, mean, and fast rested on a kickstand. The zombie slayer’s dust cloud-maker. And my ticket out of here. I unsnapped the plastic travel bottle from my utility belt and handed over the water.

He didn’t drink. He guzzled.

“Hey, leave some for me.”

He released the water bottle with a gasp. “Got more?”

I narrowed my gaze. “Got food?”

He hesitated long enough to be manufacturing a lie. “In the saddle bag on my bike.”

“There’s a couple of gallons in the truck.” I nodded toward the transport vehicle behind me. “I’ll trade you a share of my water for a share of your food.”

The ends of his mouth curled upward, and he ogled my thighs as high as the boy shorts allowed. Pretty sure he was thinking about a different kind of trade.

I met his gaze and held it. “Deal?”

His attention shifted to my truck. He could grab both gallons and make a run for it.

I squinted. “Don’t even try it.”

His cute lip curl turned cynical. “Awww. She doesn’t trust me.” He rose and took long strides toward the transport. Midway, he stopped to shoot a crawler in the back of the neck. One of the most annoying things about killing zombies is the having to kill them over and over.

Cursing under my breath, I raced ahead and beat him to the truck. I guarded the door and watched his simple, unhurried style. One by one he made sure the crawlers were dead.

He removed his helmet and scratched his head. He was tall, a bit over six feet with nice hair––short and scruffy. Hard to tell exactly what shade of brown in the moonlight. He slung the M4 under his shoulder and approached the truck slowly. That gaze of his caused tingles in places I didn’t want to think about right now.

I did a quick evaluation of my situation. Out of gas in the middle of the Syrian desert––bad luck. Woke up to a pod of biters surrounding the truck––welcome to my bad town. Running into this zombie slayer? For now, it was safe to assume that every badass inch of his badass dick was trouble.

For a FREE two chapter read visit  http://www.jillianstone.com/free-chapter-

About the Author:

Jillian Stone

 

Multi-published, national award-winning author, Jillian Stone is on a three year quest to write all the books (in different genres) she’s always wanted to write before she gets forever labeled as a historical romance writer. Jillian lives in Highland, California and is currently writing a shapeshifter tale WOLF, INTERRUPTED, which recently won the FF&P On The Far Side award in the paranormal category.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

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Frightening bloody zombie man in blood-red light. Halloween.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky kitty below!

halloween jack in the box photo: black cat in a box toy cat-ina-box.gif