Archive for the ‘thriller’ Category

Insensible Loss by Linda L. Richards ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: September 27, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, suspense, thriller
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Insensible Loss by Linda L. Richards Banner

INSENSIBLE LOSS
by Linda L. Richards
September 9 – October 4, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
The Endings Series

 

Her life is over . . . yet somehow she carries on

After attempting to sever all ties to her life as a hired assassin, a woman struggles to understand who she has become. She knows she doesn’t want to kill again–but it proves to be a difficult habit to break, particularly in a world where people are after her and those she loves most. Adrift and disconnected, she meets an old woman: Imogen O’Brien, a world-famous artist who has spent the last three decades living a hermit-like existence on a rustic desert estate in a national forest. Imogen invites her to stay and work for her, offering mentorship in return as the woman deepens her own interest in art. What quickly becomes apparent is that elements of Imogen’s past are shrouded in danger, sorrow, and darkness. Rather than growing as an artist, the former hitwoman soon finds herself enmeshed in a dangerous mystery with strands that stretch decades into the past.

Praise for Insensible Loss:

“Deception, loss, and the past all collide in this propulsive thriller. A skillfully crafted plot combined with memorable characters makes Insensible Loss a must read.” ~ James L’Etoile, award-winning author of Face of Greed and the Detective Nathan Parker series

 

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller/Suspense

Published by: Oceanview Publishing Publication Date: September 17, 2024 Number of Pages: 320 ISBN: 978-1608095148 Series: The Endings Series, Book 4 | Each is a Stand-Alone

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads

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MY REVIEW

I’ve been wanting to try this series. My plan was to start at the beginning but, even though I started further into the series, this easily read as a stand alone. Mind you, I do plan to go back and start at the beginning now. The characters are so genuine and the main protagonist is an assassin trying to leave that world behind. Her name is never revealed. She’s been living in a forest with her dog. His name we do get to know, Phil.

Phil is the reason she’s where she is now. He took off and chasing after him led her to Imogene, an artist living in seclusion. The older woman offers her a job. Okay, that’s a good start. But Imogene lives secluded for a reason and the former assassin will have to use her talents once again.

In suspense thrillers I usually expect a whopping opening and loads of action throughout. Insensible loss didn’t go that way. It was quieter suspense and thrills. Sneaky ones the author made sure you might not see coming. I didn’t feel an urgency to keep reading, but in a way, I did. I’d think, okay, this is a good place to stop for now. Then, I’d keep reading. Like when you’re eating a snack and think I’ll just eat one more. This book made me hungry for more.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
CHAPTER ONE
I am gazing into an abyss. When I plant my feet on the edge of the cliff, all I see is a canyon yawing below me. I see the canyon, and my feet, tightly laced into trail runners. Below and beyond my tidy feet, red rock can be seen everywhere, edges softened by millennia, but deadly still. And steep. Arcadia Bluff. It has a gentle sound, this location. But the reality is anything but gentle. A rough rawness that would seem to be able to accommodate anything one pitched in that direction. Wild west. There’s that, but also more. The secrets of an earth so raw and new, it doesn’t know what it wants to be when it grows up. It happens that the physical landscape matches what is going on in my heart, but this is mere coincidence. And anyway, everything is connected. I am in a remote part of one of the largest national parks in the United States, and I am all alone, but for my dog. Again, aside from that dog, I feel as if I have been alone for my whole life, but that isn’t true. What is true: everyone I’ve ever loved is dead. Some of them by my hand. But all of that was before. Here is now. I stand on Arcadia Bluff and the canyon below my feet seems to careen out endlessly. The aforementioned abyss. The red rock, dotted by trees and even the occasional cactus, seeming to sprout from the rock at odd angles, because the perpendicular drop doesn’t support normal growth. In the distance, far below me, I see a sliver of silvery blue. Maybe it’s a river or the edge of a lake, but when I look straight down, between my feet, I see nothing but rock and cactus and peril. It gives me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach to look down, so I try to avoid doing that. We drove in my old Volvo to get here, the dog and I. The car is dear to me. I’ve had it a long time and it performs elegantly. Like a tank. An elegant tank. It is a premium car, or it was, but now it is ancient. In good condition, but unremarkable, one of the things about it that I’ve always cherished: it has never drawn comment. And no one would suspect that under the trunk’s false bottom they would find two Bersa Thunder 380 handguns and a whole lot of cash. The car is now my home, my armory, and my bank. Who needs anything more? Well, maybe I do. But never mind. The journey, that’s the thing. To get here, the path we traveled in that old Volvo is a forestry road. The road is marked on maps as little more than a trail. It is unpaved and unremarked. And putting it that way—the path we traveled—makes it sound like a destination. It wasn’t that. It is just the place where, for the moment, we have ended up. When this moment is complete, we’ll travel some more. Maybe come to something else. It’s what we have now, this life made of almost nothing. As you will have guessed, this state of near nothing didn’t happen overnight. A while ago I left behind the hollowed-out shell of the life I had created. The sham. The farce. The life in which I lived while I processed all of my grief. Tried to process all of my grief. Do you know what I discovered? You don’t process grief. It lives inside you, waiting for you to trot through the minefield that is life. Waiting for you to make just that one step and the grief explodes back into your face. If you were to process it—like cheese, like peanut butter—at a certain point it would be smooth and glossy and perfectly digestible. Consume it and forget it. But grief isn’t like that. It waits around because all it actually wants is to bite you in the ass. I sound bitter. The tonic in a vodka drink. I don’t mean to, but there you are. Sometimes what you feel overrides everything you know. After I left said reconstructed and hollowed-out life, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was basically—entirely?—homeless. My dog. And me. Homeless and aimless. I had my car. Several handguns. A few small things that I had come to treasure. And a whole whack of cash. The cash was necessary, because this is what I no longer possessed: any form of identification or credit cards. Or anything that said I was a person at all. I had simply disappeared. You mostly can’t do that forever. A myriad of small things will trip you up. You can’t travel by air. You can’t book a motel. You can’t call an Uber. Or bank. When you start to think about it, there are more things you can’t do than what you can. After a while you need a landing spot. And you need a plan. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Here goes another run. Once upon a time—like a fairy story—I was a mom. A wife. A cornerstone of my community. I had a house. A pebble-tech pool. A minivan with leather seats and televised communication. I had all of the accoutrements of suburbia, right down to the suburb. Tree-lined streets that I traveled to get to my job and take my kid to his school. I had attractive but not fiendishly manicured lawns. A home. That’s what it was. My husband, my son. Me. We were a family. We had a home. One day there was an accident. People were killed. My child. Ultimately my husband, too. I was unexpectedly alone. All I had was a whole bunch of mortgaged crap I hadn’t even dreamed of wanting in the first place. After a while of being alone and having no money, I needed a new job and I started taking contracts to kill people. You see how my narrative breaks down right there? I mean, everything was going along well, from a storytelling standpoint. I’d engaged your sympathy. Maybe even your interest. And then— boom!—I blow all that goodwill with a simple revelation. Yes. Killing people. For money. What kind of nice lady does that? No kind, that’s what. But it let’s you know at least part of why I run. And so here we are. Standing on the edge of a cliff. And I’m not expecting to jump.

CHAPTER TWO

Lately I’ve noticed that I have become afraid of the dark. It doesn’t make sense to me. I am aware of no new trauma that might have led to this condition. Nyctophobia. I have read about it. I have googled, as they say. I’ve “done some research.” So I know a little about the condition that currently plagues me. I’ve read that it is fairly normal or, at least, not uncommon. I’ve read, also, that fear is healthy. In our natural state, I guess, fear is what keeps us alive and safe. For months, I have found myself waking from peaceful slumber and moving to instant terror when the dark is encountered. The dog smells the fear, or at least that is what I guess. When I wake in this way, I can hear him rustling about as he comes to me. He lays his muzzle on whatever part of me he can reach: my hand or my arm or even a bit of toe. And he’ll stay there like that, breathing quietly, until my demons have passed, or I turn on a light. Usually, I turn on a light. There are things you can do, that’s what I’ve read, as well. And there is evolved language around it. You can deal with your triggers or work at desensitizing yourself to darkness. This sort of healthy self-examination has never been my forte, and so after a while, I come up with my own solution: I begin to sleep with the light on. It keeps the demons at bay. All of this would probably be of more concern if we had a home anymore, the dog and I. But we don’t. As I said, we are traveling, no destination in mind other than a vague and distant future that at present has no shape. Every day, we cover many miles in the Volvo. The forestry roads in Arizona’s Cathedral National Park seem endless. The park itself seems endless, as well. We keep traveling, only occasionally surfacing for fuel or other supplies. We do that at small gas stations either within the park or just on the outskirts. Places that take cash and don’t ask questions. Then we delve right back into the depths of the park. We just drive and drive and drive, stopping only for calls of the body, as well as those infrequent times when I run out of steam. At those times, since we are out—literally and actually—in the middle of nowhere, I just stop the car, then pitch the small tent that lives over top of the false bottom of the trunk. And then I try to rest. The closest I ever get to actual rest is when the dog settles down somewhere near me, then gets to snoring peacefully. Something about that sound is hypnotic to me. I’ll surf behind it until, sometimes, falling under the spell of the simple, primal cadence, I fall asleep. In and out, in and out. I float away on a column of dog snores that lead to core sleep, when my subconscious scrambles to make up for time lost. In the morning we pack up and head out again. Where are we going? Why? I don’t have answers. I don’t even have questions. All I know is that everything is behind me. I’m not hopeful about what is in front of me, but it’s better than going back. Everyone knows that you can’t go back. *** Excerpt from Insensible Loss by Linda L. Richards. Copyright 2024 by Linda L. Richards. Reproduced with permission from Linda L. Richards. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Linda L. Richards:

 

.Linda L. Richards is the award-winning author of over a dozen books. The founder and publisher of January Magazine and a contributing editor to the crime fiction blog The Rap Sheet, she is best known for her strong female protagonists in the thriller genre. Richards is from Vancouver, Canada and currently makes her home in Phoenix, Arizona. New for 2024: INSENSIBLE LOSS, the fourth book in the Endings series featuring a reluctant hit woman struggling towards the light. Linda’s 2021 novel, the first in this series, ENDINGS, was recently optioned by a major studio for series production. Richards is an accomplished horsewoman and an avid tennis player, and is on the National Board of Sisters in Crime.

 
Catch Up With Linda L. Richards: LindaLRichards.com Goodreads – @lindalrichards BookBub – @linda1841 Instagram – @lindalrichards Threads – @lindalrichards Twitter/X – @lindalrichards Facebook – @lindalrichardsauthor

 

 

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Panic Peak by William A. Liggett ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: September 20, 2024 in giveaways, Interview, reviews, thriller
Tags: , , ,
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  Panic Peak by William A. Liggett
Category: Adult Fiction (18+), 254 pages
Genre: Cli-Fi Thriller 
Publisher: Consilience Press LLC
​Publication Date: February, 2024
Content Rating: PG-13: Very occasional f-word and sh*t in dialog

Book Description:

How can a single glacier grow dramatically while hundreds are shrinking around the world?

This paradox confronts a young glaciologist Kate Landry as she looks down at her research site buried under shocking mounds of new snow. Little does she know that Mount Olympus is in the bulls-eye for a sophisticated geoengineering experiment being conducted by a scientist who has convinced a secretive international oil cartel to fund his dubious climate modification techniques. While Kate struggles to understand why the glacier is growing and begins to unravel the entire nefarious scheme, she also struggles to avoid the unraveling of her developing relationship with social psychologist Grant Poole. The more Kate uncovers on the glacier, the more her own life is at risk. Can she expose the unethical and dangerous geoengineering operation without being caught before she’s stopped? And at what risk to her life?

BUY THE BOOK:
AMAZON 
add the goodreads
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MY REVIEW

I’ve only read a few cli-fi thrillers and after reading the synopsis I thought this was a good one to try. It didn’t disappoint, in many ways.

A mysterious iceberg that appears to be growing while others disappear. What’s behind that? Natural or man’s interference.

The setting, Mount Olympus. Subzero temperatures and isolated. Where the environment is an adversary. That’s something I really like in a story. A test of human endurance all it’s own.

A hidden agenda, along with the requisite villain. A must for any good thriller book.

And a female protagonist. One who’s double tough, self confident and willing to stick to what she knows is true. But also, flawed. Which makes her believable and makes you rout for her.

I thoroughly enjoyed Pain Peak and now want to see what else the author has to offer.

4 STARS

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Guest Interview with William Liggett, Author of Panic Peak

  • Your main character is a woman who is passionate about her research and teaching. How did you arrive at that?

I was raised in a family with a strong, well-educated mother and three sisters. I have always thought that women’s contributions should be respected as much as men’s. If we ignore the voices of female scientists, we are losing half of the knowledge we could otherwise gain.

I wanted Kate’s leadership and commitment to scientific knowledge and aspiration to save her glacier to inspire her students and others. Not everyone responds well to her passion for her work, which creates a challenge for my character, but also reflects the tension in our culture.

  • What inspired you to write a book about geoengineering?

After publishing my first cli-fi novel, Watermelon Snow, I was visiting with a climate scientist friend, Yaga Richter, who recommended that my next novel deal with geoengineering. She had been studying this controversial subject using computer models, and she described some of the concerns that her fellow scientists had. For example, someone might actually inject chemicals to block solar radiation without authorization. Also, unanticipated side effects such as droughts, floods, and wildfires could result from altering the climate. Since I began writing my novel, articles that describe geoengineering studies and concerns have increased exponentially.  It has become a hot topic.

  • Based on the scenes you describe it sounds like you’ve spent time on Blue Glacier. Can you say more about that?

Years ago, I lived in the research station on the side of Mount Olympus, Washington, between June and September collecting data as an employee of the University of Washington’s Blue Glacier Project. Our crew was flown to the station one at a time in a single engine ski plane that landed on the snow and took off down the side of the snow-covered mountain. Part of our assignment was to measure the depth and rate of flow of the glacial ice. This required us to carry equipment from the top to the bottom of the glacier while taking care not to fall into the deep crevasses along the way.  We learned to appreciate the raw beauty while skirting the many hazards. It was a perfect setting for an adventure (Watermelon Snow) and a thriller (Panic Peak).

  • Describe your next book in the Warming World Adventures series.

Panic Peak places Kate at the center of the action with Grant supporting her, often from a distance. It features her passion for her work, but also permits her scientific and mountaineering skills to shine. My next novel will feature Grant’s approach to combating global warming and will reflect his positive worldview. As a social psychologist, he sees ways to overcome the resistance to climate mitigation that others don’t see or agree upon.

Because I believe people are hungry for progress and good news about the climate, I’m thinking of setting my next novel in the future when humanity has gotten the climate under better control. Perhaps Grant is now in his 70’s and his granddaughter is eager to learn what he and others did to bring about the reversal of a climate disaster. I’m thinking of her documenting his story as a tribute to him and her grandmother, Kate.

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Meet the Author:

Bill Liggett writes fiction that blends behavioral and earth sciences in the recent cli-fi (climate fiction) literary genre. His goal is to paint a hopeful future based on solutions to global warming.

He holds a BS in geology and an MA in education, both from Stanford University, and a PhD in applied social psychology from New York University. Among the many positions he has held over the years, he taught in high school and college, conducted behavioral science studies for IBM, and consulted with health care and educational organizations.

Wherever he lives, he loves being outdoors. Home for him has included the West Coast, East Coast, Alaska, and now Colorado, the state of his childhood. He and his wife, Cathy, live in Niwot, Colorado.

connect with author:  website ~  X/twitter  ~ facebook ~ instagram ~ goodreads

 
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PANIC PEAK by William A Liggett Book Tour Giveaway

 

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Peek Inside And Giveaway ~ The Button Collector by M.M. Cochran

Posted: September 18, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
Tags: ,
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The Button Collector

by M.M. Cochran

 

Publication date: September 17th 2024
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller

When Chicago journalist Jessica Knight is linked to a string of odd murders happening across the country, her life takes a turn for the worse.

She is left wondering why her relatives are the ones dropping like flies under the signature mark of a serial killer . . . why she can’t stop thinking about Michael Bradley, the appealing detective assigned to protect her . . . and most of all, why, despite being the Button Collector’s prime target, she’s still alive at all. One thing she knows for certain: the killer is always watching. As the line between truth and deception begins to blur, Jessica crumbles under the dense web of lies she’s trying to keep straight–especially once the police start questioning more than just her sanity. With pressure mounting, Jessica must navigate being under the watchful eye of the police–and the killer–while risking it all in a dangerous game to make up for the mistakes of her past.

Her days are numbered…one way or the other.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Chapter 1

The first thing I feel when I step outside my apartment building is his eyes on me.

They burn. They haunt. They’re always there, somehow finding me almost every day since the first murder.

Long shadows stretch over the brown patch of grass before my building. They’re soft on my boots and heavy on the winter flowers that need sun. Rain pelts down the petals, but I’m too cold to get my fingers wet and shake the water off the weak flowers.

The thick weather clouds the feeling of his surveillance, but I still close my eyes to escape it.

Count backwards from ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Okay, it’s gone.

Now open your eyes, I instruct myself.

It’s time to catch a cab. “Time to catch a cab,” I say.

Leave me alone. “Leave me alone,” I say.

The office buzzes with fluorescent lights over rickety desks made for half-hearted journalists. I slide between their narrow spaces and make my way to the associate editor’s desk. The editor in chief smokes in his office, and Della can tell me everything he knows, so I avoid him and his stench. It’s not something I can handle this morning, though on a good morning, I’d crave the smell of his cigarettes.

“Della, John wanted to see me? Why?” The tip of my umbrella taps the ground, sprinkling cold drops of leftover rain onto my pant leg.

She doesn’t even look at me, doesn’t even jump at the opportunity to comment on my red lipstick that’s too dark or my unshapely long coat. “He’s in his office.”

“But—”

“Jessica.”

The smoke in John’s office rolls onto me in waves of foggy white. My automatic response is to cough, clear my throat, but it would be nothing more than for show. He knows I’m used to it.

“Knight. Come here, I’ve got somethin’ for you.” He fingers me in and motions for me to take a seat. The dark leather on the chair does everything but absorb the moisture from my wet thighs.

He nudges a stack of papers in my direction. “Here’re some stories for the week that I came across over the weekend. Fire and Crime section looks like it’ll be good and full next issue, but I’d like you to start on this Button story. A profile about him to follow-up his murder we reported on last week. It’ll take some research, so I want your time and attention on this one. All week.” He taps the folder with his index and middle finger, keeping his cigarette in place between them. “Make it good. If you need me to get some intern on the other stuff, you just let me know, Knight. Let’s focus on this Button profile, and make sure to really center it around the freakshow killer more than the victims.”

John takes a long, focused drag off the cigarette. Blows it in a thin streak over his shoulder. Eyes me with a glare that’s crimped with sixty-year-old crow’s feet.

“You alright, Knight?”

“Fine. But why do you want me for this? I’m not investigative, just—”

“A hard crime reporter. I know. But you really proved yourself with investigative journalism skills after you covered that murder trial last month. I want to spread your wings a little more. Cover this Button story, Knight. It’s going to sell a lot of papers. Keep it up, and we’ll change your title to Investigative instead of just Crime Journalist.”

“Thanks, John, but I’m comfortable with my position.”

“I’ll give you a little raise, dear.” He wraps his lips around his cigarette and blows the smoke over his shoulder again. “And I’ll hire one of those interns to take over hard crime. Okay?”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Well, we’ll see how this Button story goes.”

I nod.

“You sure you’re okay, Knight?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Then shake that look off your face and get to work. I’d like to have that story by Thursday; I want the designers to arrange A1 layout around it. This’ll generate a lot of attention, you know. People are all over this Button Collector thing.”

“The word count?” I ask. I usually don’t have to talk word counts with him, but with big stories like this—like that trial—he always has some requirements to meet.

“Give me nine-hundred, no less.”

A knock on the door diverts his attention to behind me. “John,” the receptionist says, “a young lady would like to speak with you about advertisement.”

John pushes back his chair and stands, surrendering his cigarette to the dusty ash tray. “Stay here, Knight. I’ll be right back.”

My next breath is stifled by the smoke that folds into my face when he walks by. He leaves the door cracked behind him.

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About Author M.M. Cochran:

As both a self-published and traditionally published author of YA fiction and a thriller, I know how vulnerable and scary handing your manuscript to an editor can be. . . But it is my job to take care of my clients and their stories, cherishing them as my own.
My novel, Between the Ocean the Stars, was ranked #2 at the worldwide distributors center upon publication and later named a finalist in the National Indie Excellence Awards. My next novel, The Button Collector, releases in 2024.

Website / Instagram

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Alexandr by Chris DeBrie ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 9, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
Tags: , ,
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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Alexandr organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Chris DeBrie will award a $20 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Alexandr

by Chris DeBrie

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Genre: Graphic Novel Thriller

Synopsis

Alexandr is a professional hitman with one client. His recent marriage to a childhood friend has him ready for retirement. But he doesn’t yet realize that his final target is different than all the rest. Follow Alex into a version of Earth which includes superhumans, witches, and otherworldly beings. DeBrie brings you dozens of characters and situations, seemingly all on the same course to destruction.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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About Author Chris DeBrie

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DeBrie has published more than fifteen comic books and novels, including the mystery “Cap’n Random”. He has produced music for rockers and hip hoppers, coached youth basketball, hoards a special Swedish meatball recipe, and tutors elementary school students. Call him a multihyphenate, or a jack of all trades, master of none… your choice. Find us on socials by typing “With Lurv” into your browser.

Author Links: Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / MeWe

Purchase Link: Amazon

FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED

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Peek Inside And Giveaway ~ The Bluff by Bonnie Traymore

Posted: September 7, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
Tags: ,
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 A crumbling bluff, two unsolved homicides, and a woman on the edge.
Haunted by her husband’s untimely death, Kate must navigate
treacherous waters and leave Crest Lake and her tragic past
behind…before it all unravels.

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The Bluff

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by Bonnie Traymore

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Genre: Psychological Thriller

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“A riveting, pulse-pounding, adrenaline
rush of a thriller. Do not miss this book!” -Noelle W. Ihli,
author of Gray After Dark

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“Gripping
and full of surprises, The Bluff
is a clever psychological suspense with layered characters and an
atmospheric setting. Traymore masterfully ratchets up the tension
little-by-little until the shocking,
explosive end.” –Tracey
Devlyn, USA Today bestselling
author

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“What do you have to lose, Kate?” Ryan asked me, as we stood on the bluff
looking out on Lake Michigan.

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Turns out, almost everything.

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When I first moved
from Manhattan to this small town six years ago, I worried about many
things. I worried about finding a job. I worried that I’d be bored.
I worried that my relationship with charming photographer Ryan
Breslow was moving too fast. But I never worried about whether the
ground beneath my feet would crumble—both literally and
figuratively.

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My marriage didn’t
go as I’d imagined. A year ago, Ryan met his untimely death in a
car accident that’s still under investigation. Isolated and alone,
all I wanted was to sell my home and leave Crest Lake and its painful
memories behind.

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But with my home
inching ever closer to the edge of the crumbling bluff, the property
has become unmarketable. All of us on the lakefront have lost chunks
of property, and tempers are at a boiling point about what to do
next.

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And now, on the
evening of a contentious vote about how to fix this pressing issue,
my nemesis on the shoreline committee has been murdered. I know how
it looks, but it’s not what it seems. I have to get my plan passed
and cash out.

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Because I have secrets.

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And they won’t stay buried forever.

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**On Sale for Only .99cents for a limited time!**

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Amazon
* Bookbub
* Goodreads

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ELEVEN

KATE

I awake to find myself rubbing my forearms vigorously with my hands and realize that I’m freezing cold. Something goopy and wet pushes into the space between my toes.

I look down.

I’m standing in mud.

Perilously close to the edge of the bluff.

My eyes widen. I gasp and take a few steps back. I turn to look behind me, and my heart races. A trail of footprints on the pavers stretches to my back door, illuminated by the motion lights in my backyard that pierce the black of night. I look down at myself, the spotlight shining on me. My sheer white nightgown is stuck to me, and my skin shows through the gossamer fabric. I’m wet, I realize. I look up at the night sky. It’s drizzling, and I need to get back inside. But I’m still foggy, not quite grasping what’s going on.

How did I get here?

Then it hits me. What must have happened. I head back to the house. My racing heart starts to slow, but the pounding in my chest is replaced with an uncontrollable shivering that rattles my bones. I get inside and lock the door behind me.

But then I remember the brick. And I think about the fact that somebody could have slipped into my house while I was outside. The alarm people are coming in a few days, but that does nothing for me now.

The chances are slim, I tell myself. But still. I look around, and I don’t see anyone. Then it dawns on me that if someone wanted to kill me, they could have simply pushed me off the cliff. So, I head upstairs to take a hot shower before I catch my death of cold.

I haven’t had a sleepwalking episode in decades, not since my father died and left me parentless, but I remember all too well what they feel like. I’m devastated. I wonder what triggered it. I had one of those feelings again last night before I went to bed. Like someone was watching me. That’s nothing new, though, and it doesn’t explain why this is starting up again.

I need to get ahead of it. It’s dangerous. And suddenly, prison isn’t my biggest fear. At least in prison, I wouldn’t be able to plunge myself off an eighty-foot cliff, shattering my body into a thousand pieces on the rocky shore below.

I laugh out loud at the thought and wonder if I’m starting to lose my mind.

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Bonnie Traymore is the award-winning, Amazon best selling author of
page-turner mystery/thrillers that hit close to home. Her books
feature strong but relatable female protagonists. The plots explore
difficult topics such as jealousy, infidelity, murder, and the impact
of psychological disorders, but she also includes bits of romance and
humor to lighten the mood from time to time. She’s an active status
member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of
America.

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Website
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Peek Inside And Giveaway ~ She’s Got The Time by M.O. Mack

Posted: September 5, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
Tags: ,
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She’s Got The Time

by MO Mack

 

(Suite #45, #3)
Publication date: August 29th 2024
Genres: Adult, Thriller

From author M.O. Mack comes the third, heart-stopping thriller in the Suite #45 series, SHE’S GOT THE TIME.

SENTENCED FOR A CRIME SHE ONLY WISHED SHE COMMITTED…

Emily has broken plenty of rules. Some she regrets. Others, well, not so much.

Running from her husband Ed for example? No regrets. He was a controlling predator who trafficked women while working for the FBI. But had she known she’d end up working for a group of hit men, she might’ve made different choices. Big regrets.

On the bright side, the group only kills bad guys. On the not-so-bright side, every cartel south of the border wants the group dead, and she’s number one on the cartel’s list.

Emily also regrets trusting Charge, her hit man boss. She regrets caring about him more than she should.

But when the feds arrest her for the murder of her ex, Emily knows she’s been set up, and all signs point to Charge. Why would he do this to her? The prison is filled with cartel gangs, and there’s a price on her head.

Can she find a way out before her time is up?

The clock is ticking…

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“I thought you loved me,” she said, knowing now that the confession he’d made after she’d saved him all those weeks ago had just been another lie.

Charge jerked his head back, like she’d taken him off guard. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“It’s everything.” Because he’d told her that while he’d been preparing to do the hit on Ed, he’d watched her from afar and fallen for her. He’d said it was the reason he’d helped her after she’d run from Ed. “You’ve been playing me this entire time. Haven’t you? The story about you loving me was a scam to get me to keep working for you.” And it had worked. He’d probably done it because he believed she’d eventually lead him to Ed.

“I don’t have time for this right now. And I’ve proven my loyalty to you.”

“No. You said whatever you had to in order to make me trust you.” She hung her head. “I can’t believe I fell for it.” Not to mention, she’d started having feelings for Charge. She’d taken a life for him. She’d risked her own ass, too.

“I’m sorry you think that,” he said smugly, “but it doesn’t change the situation or what has to be done next.”

“And just what’s that? Am I supposed to take out the warden next? Or the head of one of the gangs here so you get paid?” She pushed back in her chair. “I’m done, Charge. Done.”

“Don’t be silly. You won’t get out of this prison alive unless you pull your head from your ass, Justine, and follow my instructions.”

This again. And why did he always call her Justine when he wanted to control her? Did he think it was some kind of psychological magic wand to garner compliance?

He went on, “You only have a day, two max, before someone realizes you have a ten-million-dollar price on your head. You don’t have much time, but it’s enough time to—”

“No, Charge. No more. I’m not buying into your crap. I mean, look at where I am.” She tried to throw her hands in the air, but they were chained to the table. “We both know I’m not getting out of here. Not after I killed that guard. At best, I’ll survive a week, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to enjoy what little time I have left.”

About Author M.O. Mack:

Obviously, M.O. Mack is a cover. Don’t bother looking for the author’s true identity. She must remain secret due to the sensitive information written in her stories…

Okay, most of all that is total rubbish! M.O. is a full-time author from the great state of Arizona, who loves making stuff up and hates a slow story. The faster the better! Most days, M.O. tries to avoid the news (too icky) so it doesn’t interfere with writing nail-biter stories.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter

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all the missing girls by Linda Hurtado Bond ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: August 25, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, suspense, thriller
Tags: , ,
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 A tenacious TV reporter has 48 hours to illegally enter Cuba, find
her sister, and avenge her mámá. Don’t miss the
spine-tingling sequel to Emmy-award winning journalist Linda Hurtado
Bond’s immersive thriller, All The Broken Girls.

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All the Missing Girls

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by Linda Hurtado Bond

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Genre: Thriller, Suspense

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Once you enter their world, there is no escape…in this gripping and
undeniably chilling thriller from Emmy-award winning journalist Linda
Hurtado Bond.

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As a crime reporter for a Tampa TV news
station, Mari Alvarez knows when an investigation enters dangerous
territory. But with her estranged sister missing and almost no
information to go on, Mari can’t trust anyone but herself to find
the truth. Now she has just 48 hours to sneak into Cuba undetected,
track down her sister…and pray to her orisha that she’s not too
late.

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This is nothing like reporting in her neighborhood,
though–a place she knows like the back of her hand. In Havana she
has no contacts and only an ice-cold trail of cryptic clues. When
Detective Tony Garcia offers to help, Mari puts aside her instincts
and tries to let someone in. But soon they’re caught in a maze of
lies, deception, and an undercurrent of the island’s own
witchcraft, a sinister Brujería.

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Every lead draws Mari
further into this world of shadows, especially when her sister isn’t
the only young woman who’s gone missing. Each step pushes Mari and
Tony toward a revelation they never saw coming. And as they close in
on the horrifying truth, one thing becomes clear…no one will let
them leave Cuba alive.

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Amazon
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* Entangled
Publishing * Bookbub
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Day One

 

One a.m.

Forty-seven hours left

Tony’s family farm

We tiptoe through a dimly lit garage. Enrique goes first, Orlando

second, his GoPro out and recording. I’m holding on to Orlando’s shirt. Tony walks

behind me. We lug our gear with us, so moving isn’t easy.

 

As we enter the house through the kitchen, I take note of one single

light bulb hanging without a cover from the ceiling. It sways as we pass, casting light in

waves across the bare cement walls.

 

Towels cover the windows, even though it’s still dark outside.

Enrique pulls back a sheet hanging over an open archway, and as

soon as we walk through, nervous energy embraces me. Candles burn in place of

lamps, and the glow illuminates eager faces. Almost a dozen of them.

“Americano!” A one-armed man, in a faded Nike T-shirt and ripped jeans, pulls Tony in

with his stump and slaps him on the back with his good hand. “Americano!”

 

Tony gives a few pats but pulls away.

The Americano seems uncomfortable with raw emotion.

Similar greetings swirl around us, like an emotional tornado wanting

 

to suck Tony up.

 

They must all be relatives of his, crammed into this living room,

moving around so quickly, I can’t tell if the floor is shifting or it’s me. The heat and

humidity add to the feeling the room sways, like I’m riding waves.

 

Most of those gathered are older men, but there are two women, a

couple of teens, and one three-legged dog, an ugly, multicolored mutt with sad blue

eyes.

 

One of the women draws me into her arms, hugging me; Spanish

endearments roll into my ear. My heart swells in reaction to the smell of lavender on the

woman’s skin. The scent reminds me of my Abuela Bonita’s Violeta perfume. I squeeze

my eyes shut. I will not cry.

 

My clothes, moist from the five-hour boat ride from America, must

be dampening her dry clothes. I’m starting to tremble, so I don’t want to be held tightly. I

really need to pee, but I’m ashamed to ask, because Tony is busy being washed around

in this tsunami of a family reunion. Orlando is busy recording. All of that is more

important than my needs.

 

Tony hasn’t seen these family members since he left Cuba as a

baby. Twenty-eight years ago. It hits me—he, too, has lost family, if not to murder or

kidnapping, to separation by both water and politics.

 

The first time his mother invited me to dinner at her house in Tampa

a month ago, Tony didn’t eat, because he was too busy caring for his ninety-year-old

grandfather. Watching him feed the older man, stroking his hair, helping him to bed,

stirred something in me.

 

His grandfather must have meant a lot to the owners of this house,

too, because a painting of a younger version of him hangs on the living room wall. He’d

been a dissident, and because of a few rallies against Fidel Castro, he’d been arrested

and imprisoned. When he finally made it to America, his physical and mental state had

been damaged beyond repair. Tony became his caretaker, a constant reminder, he told

me, of Cuban suppression, imprisonment, and torture.

 

Tony’s temporal artery pulses. He didn’t come to Cuba only to help

me; he came for the revenge against those who wronged his family. And to save those

he could.

 

We stare at each other, no words needed.

His conflicted emotions weigh heavy in my chest. My heart aches. It

 

literally hurts. For him. For me. For us.

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Also by the Author: 

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All the Broken Girls

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Get it on Amazon

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 Linda Hurtado Bond is an award-winning journalist for Tampa’s Fox 13
by day and author of romantic thrillers by night. She has won 13 Emmy
awards, numerous Society of Professional Journalist and Associated
Press awards, as well as a Florida Bar and an Edward R. Murrow award.
A breast cancer survivor, she’s also active in the Tampa community
with The American Cancer Society, Hooked on Hope, and The Shoot for a
Cure, raising money and awareness any chance she gets. She’s the
mother of five, four athletes and an adopted son from Cuba. She has
passion for world travel, classic movies and solving a good mystery.

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Website
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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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In The Pale Light by Westley Smith ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: August 22, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, thriller
Tags: , ,
1

In the Pale Light by Westley Smith Banner

IN THE PALE LIGHT
by Westley Smith
August 12 – September 6, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

When Clay Graham and his family are found slain in the parking lot of his struggling business, the police suspect Clay’s troublemaker brother, Terry. Terry claims he was drunk the night of the murders and passed out at home. With little evidence against Terry to make an arrest, the case soon goes cold. Shunned from the community, harassed by the locals who believe he’s a murderer, and suffering from an undiagnosed illness, Terry lives alone on his farm, punishing himself for his past indiscretions. Then Pennsylvania State Police Trooper Henry Miller, who has ties to the town and the Graham murders, shows up with newly discovered evidence that kick-starts the case all over again. Now, before his illness kills him, Terry sets out, battling against small-town secrets and old grudges, racing against time to stay one step ahead of both the State Police and his own impending death, to finally find out what really happened to his family and hopefully prove himself and innocent man –if he is one.

 

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Thriller

Published by: Watertower Hill Publishing Publication Date: August 13, 2024

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads | Watertower Hill Publishing

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MY REVIEW

Terry Graham is running out of time. He’s dying. And he needs answers. Answers to who killed his family and why. He’s consumed with thoughts of vengeance. The town and law enforcement long suspected him of the murders. When State Trooper Henry Miller comes back in town with new evidence on the cold case, Terry struggles to stay a step ahead and exact that vengeance.

Terry wasn’t a likable character. He drank too much. Fought too much. Had a hair-trigger temper. I tried to feel sorry for him. Reminded myself of his circumstances. It was hard, since his character hadn’t changed much since before the tragedy. I think that’s what really made the story work for me. I kept reminding myself of the victims and got behind Terry.

Terry also did a credible job of sniffing out witnesses and information on the murders. He didn’t always approach them in an agreeable manner but he was getting answers. Sifting through the self interest and lies and zeroing in. This kept the suspense ramped up. As Terry got closer to those answers, so did I. And I couldn’t wait to find out how it wrapped up.

A man out for vengeance. Not at all a sympathetic character. Yet, I was on his side. How cool is that!

5 STARS

 

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Enjoy this peek inside:
December 25th, 2015
The emergency lights from the Hickory Falls Sheriff’s Department Ford Interceptor flashed across the snow when it pulled into the Graham Video store parking lot. The sheet of white should have been untouched by tires at 6:45 a.m., and the snow-covered green Jetta, sitting in the far left-hand corner of the parking lot should not have been there. Two different sets of tire tracks cut through the pristine snow. One set belonged to the Jetta. The other set made a large circle in the snow before making its way back toward Main Street. The officer brought the SUV to a stop about five feet from the Jetta; its headlights bathed the car in the frigid darkness. Unable to see past the Jetta’s frosted snow-covered windows, a building sense of unease began to crawl over him, tightening the flesh to his bones. The officer’s shift had been easy that night. He had not responded to any emergency calls, nor had he had to pull anyone over. A Christmas miracle itself. But all that had changed fifteen minutes ago while he was patrolling Broke Run Road, when Sheriff Will Daniel’s voice came over the radio. “Call just came in. We got a report of shots fired at the Graham Video store. Caller says they saw a man running across the parking lot, carrying what appeared to be a shotgun. The suspect reportedly got into the passenger side of a blue sedan before it took off with two others inside. Need you to check it out,” Daniel had said. Why the hell is the sheriff in at this hour? the officer had wondered. Shouldn’t Susan be on the call desk? And what’s going on at the Graham Video store? Now on scene, with the first cracks of gray sky beginning to materialize through the night horizon, he radioed back into the station. “I’m at the Graham Video store. I’ve located a V-dub Jetta. It’s an early 2000s model. No sign of anyone else, including the reported blue sedan. Though there are two sets of tire tracks in the snow, indicating another vehicle was present.” He glanced at the video store’s entrance. There were no broken windows and no ajar door to indicate a robbery had occurred. The place appeared buttoned up tight. “No signs of a break-in, Sheriff. Getting out to inspect the vehicle.” “Ten-four,” Sheriff Daniel’s voice came back over the line. “Proceed with caution.” Again, the officer thought it was strange that the sheriff was in at that hour, and on Christmas morning. Where was Susan Green? She usually worked the overnight shift; she should still have been at the station, working the dispatch desk. Still, the officer knew, she could have gone home for any number of reasons—the holiday, the storm, or maybe a family member had fallen –ill—and the sheriff had filled in for her. Pushing the thought from his mind, the officer returned to the pressing matter at hand. Stay focused. Stay sharp. Stepping from the SUV, the blowing snow and driving wind bit at the officer’s exposed skin, penetrated his clothes. Zipping his jacket up to his chin, he started toward the car, trudging through the shin-deep snow. As he neared the Jetta, pelted with snow and ice so hard it stung, he noticed a set of footprints leading away from the passenger-side door toward the second set of tire tracks before vanishing. The tracks were nearly filled in with fresh powder, but it was unmistakable what they were. He assumed this was where the person had gotten into the second car—an old blue sedan. Looking back to the Jetta, he saw something smeared along the top of the passenger-side door. Whatever it was had frozen to a hard, ruby-colored substance. He eased in for a closer look. lood! Frozen blood. A strange tightness gripped the base of the officer’s neck as if Death had wrapped a cold, boney hand around him and begun to squeeze. His heart rate quickened. He placed his right hand on his sidearm and identified himself. “This is the Hickory Falls Sheriff’s Department. If there’s anyone inside the vehicle, would you please step out?” There was no reply. The car was dead still. The only sound across the parking lot was the howling wind and the ice pebbles hitting the closest metal lamp post. Not wanting to disturb what he believed to be blood on the passenger-side door, the officer lumbered through the deepening snow, around the front of the Jetta, to the driver’s side. Reaching down, he took hold of the handle and pulled. The driver’s side door was locked. He took a deep breath of cold air, sending what felt like ice daggers into his lungs as he tried to steel himself for what he might find inside. His teeth began to chatter, and an internal shudder tremored in his core and quickly expanded to the rest of his body. “I’m asking anyone inside to identify themselves and step out.” He waited, but when no one replied, he said, “If you do not comply, I will be forced to inspect the vehicle. Last warning.” Silence. No movement came from within. The car’s stillness bothered him—like it was dead. But that was impossible. Cars could not be deceased like humans or animals. So why was he getting the dreaded feeling that death emanated from it? Placing his gloved hand on the window, he brushed the light dusting of snow away and bent down to look inside. The officer recoiled at what he saw or who he saw staring back at him. His feet slipped out from under him, and he went down onto his backside, hard. Snow kicked up when he hit the ground, and for a moment he was cocooned in falling white powder, protected from what he had seen. But when the snow settled, the officer was again gazing at the driver’s-side door of the Jetta. There, he saw a man’s pale face pressed against the glass, the muscles twisted and tightened in agony. His eyes were open and locked directly on the officer with a vacant, lifeless stare, pleading with him, even in death, to save him. Too late. I’m too late to save you. The officer shot to his feet; snow fell off his uniform in large patchy clumps. And though the temperature was in the teens, he felt sweat break out across his back and forehead. Moving gingerly toward the Jetta again, the officer realized he knew the dead man looking back at him. Clay Graham—the owner of the Graham Video store. He removed his Maglite from his belt and turned it on. Bending, he shone the beam through the ice-crusted driver’s-side window and began to scan the car’s interior. That’s when he saw them. He pressed a gloved hand over his lips, suppressing the scream that wanted to leap from his throat at the horrific sight of carnage and death inside the Jetta. It wasn’t just Clay Graham dead inside the car but also his wife, Claire, and their teenage daughter, Sidney. *** Excerpt from In the Pale Light by Westley Smith. Copyright 2024 by Westley Smith. Reproduced with permission from Westley Smith. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Westley Smith:

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Westley Smith

Westley Smith had his first short story, Off to War, published when he was just sixteen. He is, more recently, the author of two horror novels, Along Came the Tricksters and All Hallows Eve, as well as the thriller Some Kind of Truth. His short fiction has been published in various magazines and websites. Wes lives with his wife and two dogs in the beautiful woodlands of southern Pennsylvania–the perfect place to hide a body.

Catch Up With Westley Smith: WestleySmithBooks.com Goodreads BookBub – @wssmith100 Instagram – @wsmithbooks Facebook – @westleysmith100

 

 

Tour Participants:

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ENTER FOR A CHANCE TO WIN!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Westley Smith. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

 

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To Preserve, Protect, And Destroy by Matthew D. Saeman ~ My Review

Posted: August 7, 2024 in reviews, Science Fiction, suspense, thriller
Tags: , , ,
0

To Preserve, Protect And Destroy

by Matthew D. Saeman

 

 

 

Synopsis (from Amazon):

NASA Geologist Unearths Deadly Martian Stones: A Race Against Time to Thwart Catastrophic Mission and Save Millions from Imminent Disaster!

In To Preserve, Protect and Destroy, we follow the gripping journey of Terrence Sullivan, a dedicated NASA geologist, as he is thrust into an unexpected mission of universal importance. Tasked with the perilous job of collecting volatile stones from the hostile terrain of Mars, Terrence is initially led to believe that his mission is purely for the safety of the universe. These are no ordinary stones, but the very same that caused the catastrophic end to the first terraforming mission on the red planet.

As the narrative unfolds, Terrence uncovers the chilling truth behind his mission’s ultimate goal. The stakes are higher than he could have ever imagined, with the fate of his crew and millions of innocent lives hanging in the balance. The ship is set to return to Earth, but with a deadly cargo that could cause it to crash land in the Middle East, resulting in an unimaginable disaster.

Caught in a web of deceit and danger, Terrence must navigate the treacherous path of duty, morality, and survival. With time running out, he is forced to make decisions that will not only determine his fate but that of humanity itself. Will he be able to thwart the impending catastrophe and reveal the truth to the world, or will he become another casualty in this deadly game of power and control?

To Preserve, Protect and Destroy is a thrilling exploration of space travel, the fragility of life, and the lengths one man will go to protect it. It is a testament to the human spirit’s resilience and the power of truth in the face of overwhelming odds. This gripping tale is sure to captivate fans of space exploration and those who relish in seeing the mighty fall. Prepare for a journey that will take you to the edge of your seat and beyond, as you delve into the heart-stopping world of To Preserve, Protect and Destroy.

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Enjoy This Peek Inside:

“Madame Speaker, the President of the United States.”

Having been formally introduced to this joint session of Congress, President William Dowd III made his way down the center aisle of the House of Representatives chamber. The stark blue carpet matched his eyes perfectly and complimented the expensive, custom tailored suit he wore. As he proceeded, he was inundated with hands to shake, all of which he ignored. The president’s face resembled that of a boxer preparing to defend his belt, focused solely on the fight he’d been training for. He wanted no distractions and his pace was nearly at a slow jog.

Passing the podium from which he’d speak, President Dowd made his way to the back of the ceremonial seating posts where he shook hands with his Vice President and the Speaker of the House. He then headed back to his podium, stood and waited for the applause from half the audience to quiet down.

“Madam Speaker. Mr. Vice President. Members of Congress, Madam Chief Justice, and associate Justices of the Supreme Court. I’m certain you are all well versed in the subject of World History, so I won’t presume to educate you on this particular topic. But please bear with me as I highlight the most important tenet of the Nazi party’s rise to power.”

The president, certain his speech’s opening was a shock to all, allowed the audience to murmur for a few seconds before proceeding. “In 1918, shortly after the end of World War I and the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, a man named Anton Drexler formed the foundation of what would come to be known as the Nazi party. His beliefs and philosophy centered around German nationalism. Nothing wrong with being a patriot, right? Unfortunately, for the nearly 84 million people who would lose their lives as a result of the Second World War, Drexler’s ideology was steeped in the blaming of anyone not belonging to the Aryan master race for every problem the German people encountered. And once Adolph Hitler, a gifted orator, joined forces with Drexler, it was only a matter of time before what started as a fledgling, some would say outlandish, concept began taking root with the German people and eventually garnered full fledged acceptance.

“It’s been many decades since the thankful end of World War II, the Holocaust, and the Nazi party. But has it been too long? Are we, as citizens of this great country, in danger of forgetting the atrocities committed by one man with a silver tongue? ‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’ George Santayana, a Spanish American philosopher spoke these words in 1905, more than a century ago… and they couldn’t be more applicable today. I received the video I am about to show not more than twenty four hours ago. It was captured by an agent who has been working undercover for several years amongst the terrorist organization ISIS in Iraq. I called together this joint session of Congress so that all of you could see first hand the danger posed by Abu al-Hussein, the newly crowned leader of this lawless organization, now that he has convinced Al-Qaeda and the Taliban to join forces with his in an effort to complete their Caliphate dream of uniting all Muslims around the world. The Muslim faith is one of honor and respectability, but al-Hussein and his newly formed regime have bastardized this proud religion, converting it into an organization replete with decadent thugs. Once the leader gets a taste of power, his appetite won’t be satisfied. And as has been too painfully recognized many times over in days gone by, once the mob mentality takes control, there is no way to stop it before the loss of too many lives.”

As President Dowd stepped away from the podium, the Vice President and Speaker of the House took the seats next to his in the front row. The lights slowly dimmed as a large projector screen was lowered. It reached its extent with a metallic thud, causing some in the silenced gallery to jump. And then the video began to play. Shot with a cell phone, the operator was close enough to the speaker for his words to be heard and the thousands upon thousands of mesmerized onlookers to be seen clearly. Though Arabic was the language used by al-Hussein, an English translation of his delivered message was displayed at the bottom of the screen.

It was clear from the way he spoke and the hand gestures used, that he had familiarized himself with Hitler’s greatest hits. Every statement flowed methodically and strong, and the pace with which he spoke was slow enough to ensure all listeners, no matter their learning level, could easily understand the points he was attempting to make. He used strategic pauses in order to keep his audience intrigued, and the expression on his face was one of genuine care for his people.

According to the translation, al-Hussein was bemoaning the loss of so many centuries stolen from them by infidels from foreign lands and the loss of life resulting from infighting amongst their own kind. He touted the new regime as having seen enough of their own blood, and that now was the time to band together in order to rebuff any opposition who tried standing in their way. Upon hearing these words, the crowd drew to a near frenzy of approval, and as al-Hussein saw this, he took a step back from the microphone so he could relish in his success.

The remainder of the footage resembled a political rally comprised of no opposition to the speaker being celebrated. Everything al-Hussein said was gladly accepted and then answered by thunderous waves of applause. He concluded his remarks by indicating this unification was only the beginning. That as one with Allah, they were capable of anything.

It was dead silent as the screen went dark and began rising back toward the ceiling. When the lighting brightened, and as the president walked back to the podium, he could see the challenged faces of all in the auditorium; some uncertain, some frightened, but most categorically mad.

“Though other world leaders have viewed this footage, none seem to have seen it with the concern that I… and you now have. They are considering al-Hussein with a lack of concern as did President Roosevelt, Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, and President Lebrun of France with Hitler. The difference, of course, being that the three men I just named had no reason to believe the worst could happen. Now that we have seen the possibilities, it would be irresponsible of us not to act. And since we, the United States of America, remain the greatest country ever created by God, the responsibility falls upon our shoulders.”

The president received a standing ovation, and allowed it to persist a bit longer before furthering his thoughts aloud. “Of course, I’m not asking for a declaration of war. There are those in Iraq as well as other countries in the Middle East who deplore the movement which has begun gaining footage. My recommendation is to send in a single battalion of highly trained soldiers who will train the young men and women of these countries how to fight for what they believe in; a democratic way of life where you’re not told how to dress or whether or not you can hold a job other than raising children and bowing to your spouse’s every whim.”

The round of applause President Dowd earned following that statement was similar to the one al-Hussein received, the only difference being that no one in the House of Representatives chamber fired off their guns in celebration.

“Let me be clear. Our soldiers will be nowhere near the front line. In fact, they will be safely back home long before any aggression takes place. I simply ask you all to consider the potential ramifications of allowing al-Hussein’s movement to swell, and to remember the mistakes made in the past that took so many lives. God bless you, and God bless America.”

On his journey back up the center aisle, President Dowd’s pace was much slower. He shook every hand thrust his way and showed genuine appreciation for the verbal bi-partisan support he received. But in the quiet space of his own mind, he wondered how long it would take these people to realize they’d just been duped, or if they ever would.

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MY REVIEW

Do I think we’ll ever set foot on Mars? Yes. But not for a long time. There’s too much still to learn about traveling such a long distance. Do I think once we do go there it will be exploited? Yes. There’s always those who hunger for power and wealth waiting for a new way to get it.

To Preserve, Protect And Destroy. Such an apt title. Something is discovered on Mars. People are sent to retrieve it. Some want to study it. Some want to bury it. And some want to use it. There’s that saying…” just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

I was pulled in right from the first couple of sentences. Those brief descriptions put me there. I learned what was on Mars. Thought about what it might mean and formed my own opinions. Shared the excitement, fears and desires along with the crew. And kept turning the pages. I needed, no, had to know what the outcome was.

As I neared the end of the book all I thought was, “there’s no place like home.” And I hoped the last few pages showed me it was still there.

I enjoy science fiction stories. Especially those that might be able to happen. Throw in characters I grow to care about and some bad guys I’d like to drop kick, and I’m a happy camper.

4 STARS

 

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Interview With Author Matthew D. Saeman

On writing:

 

How did you do research for your book?

The majority of the research I did was from the Geological perspective since I knew very little about that branch of science. That information was readily available online, as was everything I needed regarding NASA, the White House, and the President.

 

Which was the hardest character to write? The easiest?

The hardest character to write was President Dowd since I’ve never met a U.S. president, especially one of his ilk. The easiest was Terrence Sullivan since I based most of his emotions after my own.

 

Where do you get inspiration for your stories?

I keep an open mind, and when an idea pops into my head I ask myself two important questions: Has it already been done and would it be fun to write?

 

What advice would you give budding writers?

Since I still consider myself one, my advice is something I tell myself every day: Trust your gut and write stories YOU think would be fun to read.

 

Do you have another profession besides writing?

I teach High School Special Education.

 

How long have you been writing?

As far as novels, only six or seven years. Prior to that I wrote screenplays and short stories.

 

Do you ever get writer’s block? What helps you overcome it?

I don’t believe in “writer’s block.” The only times I have difficulty progressing with a story are when the story has a fundamental flaw that must be fixed. Once it is, the “block” goes away.

 

What is your next project?

I have a friend who fell while rock climbing. She’s kind enough to allow me to use her experience in the story I’ll write… though I have no idea what that’ll be yet.

 

What genre do you write and why?

The majority of the stories I write are Suspense/Thrillers, mostly because there are so many fun ways to tell interesting stories in that genre.

 

What is the last great book you’ve read?

Legion by William Peter Blatty.

 

What were the biggest rewards and challenges with writing your book?

The biggest reward was finishing it, the biggest challenge was having the patience not to start writing before the outline was solid.

 

Which authors inspired you to write?

Gordon McAlpine was a friend who inspired me to do what I love.

 

 

 

On rituals:

 

Where do you write?

Resting comfortably on my couch.

 

Do you write every day?

If I’ve got a story that’s flowing well, I write every day. My goal is at least 1000 words a day.

 

In today’s tech savvy world, most writers use a computer or laptop. Have you ever written parts of your book on paper?

Never. I write on my phone, it feels more personal.

 

Fun stuff:

 

If you could go back in time, where would you go?

1700s USA. I’d love to see first hand how our founders worked together.

 

Favorite travel spot?

The Republic of Ireland

 

Favorite dessert?

Chocolate fudge cake… the richer the better.

 

What’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you? The scariest? The strangest?

The funniest was when I ordered a lamb stew that had a hoof in it, the scariest was when I almost accidentally dumped Ray Bradbury out of his wheelchair, and the strangest was hearing a cat crying outside our house that sounded like a small child.

 

Any hobbies? or Name a quirky thing you like to do.

No real hobbies, but when watching a TV show or movie, I enjoy checking my phone to see how tall the actors are.

 

If there is one thing you want readers to remember about you, what would it be?

I’m hysterically funny, despite what my wife and daughter would say.

 

What TV series are you currently binge watching?

I just finished Defending Jacob and am about to begin Billy the Kid.

 

What is your theme song?

“The Modern World” by The Jam

 

What song is currently playing on a loop in your head?

“22” by Taylor Swift. My daughter listens to her nonstop!

 

What is something that made you laugh recently?

A YouTube video where a guy is on the phone at work and his colleagues placed a tarantula on his shoulder. His reaction was priceless!

 

What is your go-to breakfast item?

An apple with reduced fat peanut butter.

 

What is the oldest item of clothing you own?

 A ratty t-shirt I refuse to throw away. It’s at least 20 years old.

 

Who was your childhood celebrity crush?

Kathy Coleman who played Holly Marshall on Land of the Lost (the TV show).

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Guest Post

I’m fascinated that EVERYONE doesn’t love to write. The thought of crafting a story from scratch, developing the characters and plot in whatever form of outline works best, then writing one chapter after another until the book is finished makes me giddy! Being a High School teacher, it’s rare for students not to ask “How many sentences do we have to write?” when I give them a writing assignment. They make it sound as if the process were the equivalent of a root canal with no novocain, which is why I do my best to make it as interesting as possible. I first tell them there are NO wrong answers. I compare writing to painting, explaining that every artist sees things in their own way, then showing them how I do it and how much fun it can be. Does this procedure work with every student? Absolutely not. But it does allow their minds to open up just enough to get the work done, and for some, exposes a love for the written word they never knew they had.

In sixth grade, my teacher asked us to write a Halloween story. To this day, I still remember how cathartic it felt to craft that one page piece. It’s something inside that can’t be defined but it truly exists. I do believe all of us possess this creative gift, yet most choose to ignore it. To each their own. I love writing. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of either the story I’m currently working on or the one I’d like to write next. I’m a dedicated soul, an attribute passed down from my parents. When I begin a project, no matter what kind, I finish it. When it comes to writing stories, completing them provides a sensation of pride from which I derive my optimistic outlook on life. I’m thankful every day that I’ve chosen this facet as my creative outlet, if for no other reason than it allows me an internal peace which, in these crazy times, seems so hard to come by for too many.

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About Author Matthew D. Saeman:

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Matthew D. Saeman, a native of Orange County, CA, is a distinguished graduate of Cal State Fullerton. He has dedicated his life to shaping young minds as a Special Education teacher in San Diego. His personal life is as fulfilling as his professional one, being a loving husband and a doting father to one child. A proud owner of a Great Dane, Matthew’s life is a blend of compassion and commitment.

Instagram

Author Marketing Experts tags for social media: Instagram / Twitter

Purchase Links: Amazon / Goodreads

 

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Killer Weed by Manning Wolfe ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: August 6, 2024 in giveaways, reviews, thriller
Tags: , ,
2
KILLER WEED
by Manning Wolfe
July 29 – August 16, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
Merit Bridges Legal Thrillers

 

GET READY FOR A LEGAL SHOWDOWN, LIKE NO OTHER, IN MANNING WOLFE’S GRIPPING THRILLER, KILLER WEED!

Austin attorney, Merit Bridges, steps up to defend a client whose twin sons are targeted in a fiery attack on a lucrative medical marijuana field. Once again, Merit is thrust into a dangerous game of deception with a corporate giant pulling strings. With their ruthless hired gun, Raiden Prince, eliminating obstacles with chilling precision, Merit finds herself in a high stakes battle for justice. As Merit thwarts the ambitions of the dangerous corporation, Prince turns his sights on her. With his mastery of disguise, he lurks in the shadows. But Merit, her clients, and her trusted team aren’t going down without a fight. Can Merit navigate a labyrinth of legal issues, protect her client, and survive Raiden Prince? Prepare for a twisty confrontation that no one can see coming. From award winning author Manning Wolfe comes the fifth installment in the electrifying Merit Bridges Legal Thrillers. Can be read in any order. DIVE IN TODAY! Killer Weed will keep you on the edge of your seat!

 

Book Details:

Genre: Legal Thriller

Published by: Starpath Books Publication Date: July 25, 2024 Series: Merit Bridges Legal Thriller, Book Five

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

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MY REVIEW

Sometimes, not often, I come across a book that bogs down when going into detail about how something works. Not so with this book. I found it amazing. Never knew how difficult it was to legally farm pot. The author did her research. She shared the ins and outs of the legal hemp and marijuana business. For those who manage to get one of the licenses to grow pot, there are so many hoops to jump through. So much red tape. That’s where the politicians and lawyers play a huge part. They navigate through the confusion, making sure the players are on the up and up.

The illegal pot business is dangerous. So is the legal one. It’s a business that brings in billions. For some, they would do anything to get a piece of that pie. From threats to sabotaging the crops, to arson and even murder.  Killer Weed indeed. It’s a fast paced thriller with some characters that you’ll love and some that you’ll want to…. well, erase from the picture. This is my first dive into the series and now I want more.

4 STARS

 

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Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1
Raiden Prince prowled the field on foot, a solitary figure moving purposefully in the dark through the field of tall green leafy stalks. The summer night wrapped around him like a shroud, making his eyes appear as black as pools of Texas crude oil and concealing his clandestine mission. In the velvet light, only the shape of the vegetation was visible, but the outline of the three-pronged leaves was unmistakable. He threw gasoline from a red gas can onto the field of hemp, backing up as he worked, so as not to soak his jeans or work boots with the flammable liquid. He returned the red can to the bed of his pickup, retrieved another gas can and moved to the opposite side of the field. There, he emptied the flammable liquid onto a greenhouse made of a steel frame and plastic sheeting, filled with high grade medical marijuana plants, some labeled Peanut Butter Breath, and others Blue Dream. The silence of the night was broken only by the rhythmic chirping of dog-day cicadas, and Prince’s off-key rendition of Red Headed Stranger. He did his best Willie Nelson imitation in his practiced backwoods Texas accent. He mimicked the elastic voices, that he’d heard most Texans use, by eliding certain syllables. All the vowels were stretched out in the middle of each word, and the end of them clipped, especially ones ending in ing. The music was just to set the mood for the evening’s tasks. He preferred rap. After he’d soaked the greenhouse, Prince backed toward the two lane county road as he threw the last of the gasoline. He then moved out of the field, onto the caliche roadbed, where he walked back to his old rusty pickup truck and placed the second gas can in the bed beside the first. # Brad and Thad Lane, each on an ATV with custom paint jobs and extra-large wheels, cut across the pasture from their picturesque home on the hill above the expansive farm owned by the Lane family. They often rode late at night when they could sneak out without waking their mother, Gladys. She was a heavy sleeper, as the pure of heart often are, but she was still a protective mother and didn’t like the twins roaming the acreage in the dark. Brad, the larger of the two, now shirtless, and already tan, played defensive end on the local high school football team, the Giddings Buffaloes. Thad, three minutes younger, wearing a white wife-beater undershirt, played tight end and was the more talented of the two. He was often compared to Travis Kelce because he was fast and often carried the ball in for the team’s touchdowns under Friday night lights, a Texas passion. Riding around the family farm was not an issue for the seventeen-year-olds, even at night. They knew every inch of the family property, as they’d been using it as their personal playground since they could walk. They had certain hiding places for their special crops. Not marijuana, there was plenty of that. Their secret was growing small patches of maize or clover near their bird blinds so they could enjoy a good season of dove hunting in the fall. It was called baiting, and was illegal, but this was their land, and they didn’t follow many rules once they entered the gate to the property they called home. The twins cut low into a narrow creek bed caused by hundreds of years of rain runoff, then peaked again at the top of a low mound overlooking the growing fields. From their vantage point atop the rise, Brad spied a solitary figure below, near the county road, his movements casting eerie shadows against the moonlit landscape. Brad’s brow furrowed in confusion as he pointed out the intruder to his brother. “Who is that?” Thad’s eyes narrowed as he squinted into the darkness, his instincts going on high alert. “Don’t think I know him. What the hell is he doing?” They watched the intruder move further onto the country road, then recede, taking a squarish object that appear to be a gas can with him. The man placed the can in the back of a pickup and returned to the edge of the field. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and just as he was about to thumb the heel, the twins came tearing down the rise, bearing down on the intruder on their ATV’s, while shouting obscenities. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “This is private property, Asshole.” At that moment, Prince thumbed the wheel, sparking the flint, and tossed the flaming Zippo, lighting up the edge of the field. The fire caught and expanded flaring toward the twins. They zigged and zagged, skirting the field and avoiding the flames by driving through a wet creek at the edge of the heat. Marijuana smoke puffed out of the burning field and then the greenhouse, the plants expelling gases that smelled sweet and exotic. Prince moved back toward his pickup, placing his right hand in his pocket and grabbing his keys to expedite his exit. He moved quickly, but the twins were quicker. Thad bounded his ATV up out of the creek bed and headed straight for Prince. Thad knocked Prince down with the front bumper, and Brad came charging up behind Thad. Prince pulled himself up, dropping his truck keys in the onslaught, and picked up a large limb that had fallen from a nearby oak. He swung it over and caught Brad across the chest with the heavy weapon before Brad could come to a complete halt, knocking him from the ATV. The machine continued into the roadbed and across to the neighboring fence, where it was caught by barbed wire and abruptly died. Thad did a wheelie in the road, turned back, stopped his ATV, and jumped off to help his brother. While he was bending over Brad, Prince came up behind him and slammed the same offending tree limb into the back of Thad’s head, knocking him out cold. Prince went down again as his right leg gave way from the injury caused by Brad’s ATV. Prince got up, limped nearer to the twins, and hit them again, although they were both already unconscious. “Stay down.” Prince sat down on a nearby rock outcropping to catch his breath and assess the situation. The fire popped and flared as he watched and listened for fire trucks that might have been dispatched. The two young men had seen his face and his truck. He could not risk their exposing him or his employer to scrutiny. Feeling the urgency to leave the scene of his crime, he made a decision. He limped back over to the bodies and dragged each twin in turn to the edge of the flames, leaving first Brad, and then Thad to be consumed by the fire. Prince then returned to his truck, but when he put his hand in his pocket to fetch his keys, there was nothing there. It was only then that he remembered dropping them when the first boy’s ATV had taken him down. He limped back to the area where he had been hit and searched the leaves, grass, and waning Bluebonnets with the flashlight on his phone. His search was in vain, and when he heard the siren of an approaching fire truck, and the grinding sound of another ATV coming closer from the direction of the farmhouse, he jumped into his truck and jerked the wires from beneath the dashboard. He hot-wired the engine, and it sparked and sputtered to a start. Prince threw gravel on his exit from the roadside and headed down the county road, leaving a trail of white caliche dust to mingle with the smoke from the burning field. *** Excerpt from Killer Weed by Manning Wolfe. Copyright 2024 by Manning Wolfe. Reproduced with permission from Manning Wolfe. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Manning Wolfe:

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Manning Wolfe

MANNING WOLFE, an award-winning author and attorney residing in Austin, Texas, writes cinematic-style, smart, fast-paced thrillers and crime fiction. Manning was recently featured on Oxygen TV’s: Accident, Suicide, or Murder. * Manning’s legal thriller series features Austin attorney Merit Bridges, including Dollar Signs, Music Notes, Green Fees, and Chinese Wall. * Manning’s new Proxy Legal Thriller Series features Houston attorney Quinton Bell and includes: Dead By Proxy, Hunted By Proxy, and Alive By Proxy. * Manning is co-author of Killer Set: Drop the Mic, and twelve additional Bullet Book Speed Reads. As a graduate of Rice University and the University of Texas School of Law, Manning’s experience has given her a voyeur’s peek into some shady characters’ lives and a front-row seat to watch the good people who stand against them.

Catch Up With Manning Wolfe: ManningWolfe.com Goodreads BookBub – @ManningWolfe Instagram – @manningwolfe TikTok – @manningwolfe Pinterest – @manningwolfe Twitter/X – @ManningWolfe Facebook – @manning.wolfe

 

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!  

 

Join In for YOUR Chance to WIN:

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Manning Wolfe. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

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