Posts Tagged ‘suspense’

 

The Closed Tunnel

by Anthony Harold

 

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Publication date: October 8th 2024
Genres: Adult, Science Fiction, Suspense

Ink & Cinema Official selection Best First Ten Pages 2023, USA.

Based on real materials.

What if we told you that 3,000 feet underground is a network of high-tech cities connected by tunnels? Yes, right now.

The main character of this story, Tony from New York, accepts a job from the strange head of a pharmaceutical company. It takes him first to the National Geophysical Research Lab on Long Island and then—unexpectedly!—underground.

He finds himself in Luxor Ville, the city of the elite, and explores Hearton City with genius scientists presumed dead or missing on the Surface.

Meanwhile, in the ancient tunnels, the world’s greatest physicists are conducting an unbelievable experiment that should redefine our understanding of the laws of the universe…

Why are the richest people buying up the last subterranean luxury apartments? How are NASA and Neil Armstrong connected to the underground world? How does the hostess of the Elusive Cafe predict the future?

And is there a common secret that unites Hearton City’s inhabitants, or is it an illusion?

Feel the forgotten vibe of the TV series Lost, unlock a jar of puzzles in the wave of The Da Vinci Code, and prepare for a journey into the depths like in Wool/Silo!

The Closed Tunnel units author’s own inventions, suspense, fantasy elements, physical experiments connected to Montauk project, mystery and thriller, fashion (!), real underground wonders, and a pinch of spice.

There are diverse characters, multiple POVs, Elusive Cafe, ancient board game, scientifically created oracle cards, and a central question: whom to trust.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Chapter 51. Messages to Die For

Professor Ron Jefferson

Bursting through the front door, Ron immediately bolted it from the inside and pushed against it with all his weight. He felt as if he was being pursued. It seemed to him that they would be here in a minute to take him to a distant underground grave and separate him from his son for years.

With the frenzy of a mad scientist, he tore himself away from the door and dashed up the stairs. Desperately searching through a stack of papers on the desk, he sought that particular notebook. He distinctly remembered placing it on the edge of the desk . . .

No, it must be in the top drawer . . . No, dammit, where is it?

The thought that people from the Consortium might have already rifled through his papers and taken the precious notebook shot through his head.

Oh, here it is, on the coffee table by the chair. I must keep a cool head. I’m still in control.

In a flurry of movement, Jefferson swept the papers from the table, snatched up the notebook, frantically flipped through its filled pages, tore them out, and secreted them in a hidden pocket. Then, ripping out a blank sheet, he scribbled down crucial information in a hurried, nearly frantic script, struggling to maintain his composure. Time was of the essence, and he feared they might arrive at any moment.

This made Ron cast anxious glances at the locked office door after every few lines.

“They don’t even need a key, do they? They don’t even need a damn key . . .” he mumbled, startled by his deteriorating mental state.

After filling both sides of the sheet, he hastily folded it several times and concealed it in a spot that strangers would overlook. Still, its intended recipient would undoubtedly uncover—inside the double bottom of the dracaena plant pot.

They won’t find the letter. They just can’t. It must not fall into the wrong hands.

Jefferson paced the room for a minute, uncertain what to hold onto. Then his eyes landed on a picture of his son on the table.

The boy was smiling, hugging their favorite dog.

“Rover . . .” Jefferson whispered.

He opened the adjacent break room and found a golden retriever sleeping peacefully in the middle of a large bed. The dog perked up and bounded toward his master, then jumped with his front paws on his chest.

As Ron stroked Rover’s back, a new plan crystallized in his mind. He decided not to take the priceless notes with him but to hide them in the house, just as he had hidden his letter, in an even more secure location. Here, in the favorite soundproof room of his ever-barking dog.

“Soundproof . . .”

That word triggered a chain of thoughts. He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, muttering, “I still have some time.” His eyes gleamed with frenzied determination.

A knock on the door made him wince.

“Professor Jefferson, do you require assistance with your packing? Your capsule departs in an hour. We must hurry.”

Ron locked Rover inside the break room so he wouldn’t witness his beloved master leaving. With three heavy steps, Jefferson reached his office door, slowed down . . . and opened it, fully aware that he would never be back to his cozy house again.

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Author Bio:

Anthony Harold is the author of the upcoming sci-fi sensation The Closed Tunnel. This book explores underground cities connected by ancient tunnels and will hit shelves in April 2024.

Anthony holds a Master’s degree in Physics and a Ph.D. in Economics. He has an impressive background of nearly 15 years in the space industry, including developing space-based laser systems and managing finances for a leading rocket company.

Anthony dislikes most modern movies due to plot holes, so he prefers to read and, better yet, write. He’s passionate about delving into the mysteries of Earth, exploring ancient history, and studying the wonders of techno-civilization.

Currently living in Cyprus with his grown son, a lively Jack Russell terrier, and his talented wife, who doubles as his editor and marketer, Anthony enjoys spending his free time on the tennis court, jogging along the coast, or fishing.

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Lies and secrets pile up in this chilling next installment of Willow Rose’s bestselling series about FBI profiler Eva Rae Thomas.

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Rest in Peace

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An Eva Rae Thomas Mystery #15

by Willow Rose

Genre: Suspense, Thriller, Mystery

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Sarah Chapman is angry at her husband. She’s also drunk… very drunk as she drives down their street, ready to face him.

When a neighbor hears the commotion and rushes to help, he finds her inside, gun still in her hand, and her husband, Steven, dead in the bed.

Sarah is arrested and taken away but claims to be innocent.

The only one who believes her is FBI profiler, Eva Rae Thomas.
She knows Sarah personally, and as she looks at the evidence in the case, she is convinced that Sarah is telling the truth, even though she was highly intoxicated when the event occurred.

But the detective on the case is determined to have her convicted for the murder.

As more bodies turn up, only Eva Rae Thomas sees the connections and soon starts a race against time to prove Sarah is innocent and to catch the real murderer before it’s too late and her own family is targeted.

Lies and secrets pile up in this chilling next installment of Willow Rose’s bestselling series about FBI profiler Eva Rae Thomas.

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Willow Rose is a multi-million-copy best-selling Author and an ALL-star Author of more than 90 novels.

She has sold more than six million books that are translated into many languages.

Willow’s books are fast-paced, nail-biting pageturners with twists you won’t see coming.

That’s why her fans call her The Queen of Plot Twists.

Willow lives on Florida’s Space Coast with her kids, two cats and her Goldendoodle. When she is not writing or reading, you will find her surfing and watching the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean.

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Never trouble Trouble, ‘til Trouble troubles you,

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for if you trouble Trouble, Trouble’s sure to trouble you.

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Hidden in the Shadows

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by A.D. Vancise

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Genre: Thriller, Suspense, Mystery

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“All I can ever think about is murdering her.” -C.B.

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Twenty-three-year-old Evie Day never dreamt she’d be back in Woodsville Arkansas, a small town in the

middle of nowhere, after having left five years earlier, but the death of her grandfather called for her

return. After discovering a photo from 1933 of a mysterious woman standing next to a tiny wooden box, a

strange vial of blood wrapped up in a handkerchief in the pocket of her grandfather’s overalls, and a key

hidden in his desk drawer that belongs to a secret safety deposit box, Evie is unwittingly thrown into a

world of evil where those closest to her are the ones to be the most feared and danger lurks around every

corner.


Hidden in the Shadows by A.D. Vancise shines a light on the darkness and reveals the underlying players

that have been hunting in plain sight.

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IMPORTANT NOTICE

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The survivors of satanic rituals and child trafficking inspired this book, along with a photo I found in my

grandfather’s family photos of a mysterious woman standing beside a tiny box. My grandfather died with

the real story of what happened. He was a police officer.

I knew I had to take this story down a dark path once I heard the victims’ stories and those who never

believed them. The killer’s POV is based on true testimonials of survivors. These horrific acts

happened and continue to happen to kids worldwide.

 

Having said that, I feel the importance of noting a trigger warning for intense graphic material such

as child trafficking, sadism, occult rituals, sexual and physical abuse, violence, and murder. If reading

this material evokes memories of or PTSD from abuse, please contact professionals or a safe person

immediately. This novel is in no way meant to sensualize or exploit these serious events. It requires

courage to read this story meant to bring awareness to these heinous acts and give a voice to the

children who no longer have one. It’s to shed light on a darkness that has plagued this world for far

too long. I am awed by all those who can receive this information and want to help the children. We

all need to give them a voice. Thank you for being brave enough to read this story.

 

Sincerely,

 

A.D. Vancise

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Reviews for Hidden In the Shadows

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“Writing with crisp efficiency, mordant wit, and bursts of searing terror, Vancise whets the novel’s escalating puzzles and portents with an edge of queasy uncertainty.” -Editors Pick, Booklife.

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“If you’re looking for a spine-tingling read that will leave you wondering who to trust, what dangers are lurking beneath the surface and when the next twist will come, then Hidden in the Shadows is the book for you.”-Booktrib.

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“Hidden in the Shadows by A. D. Vancise is a thrilling mystery that keeps readers in suspense from the first clue until the end.” – Five Stars. Literary Titan.

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“A.D. Vancise excels in crafting a dark, atmospheric story.” -D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

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“If you are a reader who is tired of reading the same old books that are lackluster and forgettable, then take a chance with this one…you will not be disappointed.” -The Red-Headed Book Lover.

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“The author vividly informs your mind’s eye.” – Five Stars. Readers’ Favorite.

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Dark, disturbing, and gripping.” -Five Stars. Bookview Review.

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A grim but exciting and compelling mystery even in its most disconcerting moments.” Kirkus Review.

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What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book? 

Research into a story depends on the type of story being written. My first book, for instance, didn’t require much research due to it being a semi-autobiography. I knew the story, the characters, the plot etc. I may have had to research medical terms or areas that my brother and his partner had visited as well as speak to Brad, my brother’s partner, about their experiences but that was the minimal research done for that book. This book, however, consisted of close to six months of straight research if not more.

 

Do you see writing as a career? 

I want to see writing as a career, I take it very seriously. Having said that though, my reason for writing is for the love of writing, first and foremost.

 

What do you think about the current publishing market? 

The current publishing market is difficult on many levels. I much prefer the hybrid model. This model isn’t a vanity press, there is quite a difference between the two. A hybrid publisher you still must pitch, and they do not accept all manuscripts for publishing. When your manuscript is accepted the author pays the publisher for structural editing, cover design, copy editing, interior design, and some promotion.

 

Do you read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre? 

I read and read and read again. This I believe should be the pattern of all writers. I learn a great deal from other authors both bad and good or what I like or dislike. Some paragraphs, I’ll read two or three times when they are exceptional. I’ll jot it down in a notebook as well making sure to mark it as someone else’s work because I also jot down ideas or sentences that come to me randomly or conversations between strangers and I don’t want to plagiarize. I read reviews of books I’ve read as well, good, and bad as this also provides great feedback as to what readers want or look for in a book. My favorite genre is and always has been thriller/mystery.

 

Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise? Why? 

I cannot write if it’s too silent around me. I know other authors isolate themselves, but I realized at university that I couldn’t concentrate when it was quiet. I need something to block out in order to focus, so the noisier the better. I often put on music or plant myself in the middle of a room with others watching TV.

 

Do you write one book at a time or do you have several going at a time?

I never saw myself writing two books at once but here I am doing it now. I’m working on the sequel to Hidden in the Shadows and Memoirs from a Killer.

 

Pen or type writer or computer?

When I’m working on the story, I use a program called Scrivener on my computer. I find it’s the quickest way to get the words out. When they flow, they flow rapidly. I still enjoy pen to paper as I came from the era just before computers. We hand-wrote papers or typed them on a typewriter so I will keep a journal or notebooks that I prefer to handwrite.

 

Do you have any advice to offer for new authors? 

Advice to new authors read, read, read, and then read some more and in the genre, you’d like to write in. I hear people often say they want to write a book, but they don’t read. How do you expect to know what sells or what flows, works, or doesn’t work if you don’t read? I would also advise taking some writing courses to gain confidence. And write for the love of writing not because you want to get published. One more thing, you CAN do it, your story is important, WRITE it.

 

Describe your writing style. 

I would describe my writing style as atmospheric. I am a visual artist and I feel that helps in my creation of a scene but it’s a fine line, too much description and you lose the reader, not enough and you lose the reader I try to set the tone of the scene through atmosphere, smells, touch, and tastes. I want my readers to feel embedded in the scene as if they are right there in it.

 

What makes a good story? 

That depends on who is reading it. For me, a good story takes me on a journey. One with smells, textures, tastes, and with well-formed characters. What do I mean by well-formed characters? I want to know how they grew up, what friends they have or had and why, and what are their greatest fears, wants, or dislikes. A character doesn’t just enter a story at age 30 and has no background. For me, this is one of the most important things in a book. If I don’t care about a character, (good or bad) I’m not going to care what happens to them.

 

What is your writing process? For instance do you do an outline first? Do you do the chapters first? 

Outlines, oh the one question that every writer gets asked. I do not work from one. I find them restrictive like I can’t sway from the outline. My creative process I would describe as a gypsy going wherever the wind blows. Haha. Not quite that carefree but I do like to be free to write what comes next. I typically know the beginning and the ending, but everything in between is yet to be seen. I live my life the same way.

Chapters? In my first book, I just wrote not worrying about the chapter breaks but in the second I did write in chapters. Sometimes the chapters merge or rearrange but the Scrivener program is great for editing as each chapter is isolated and can be moved by clicking and dragging. It’s a great program.

 

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

I would say that I try to be original without trying to reinvent the wheel. My goal is to always give the reader what I think they want with some surprises. Truth or feeling real seems to be the most important trait for readers.

 

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

If I could tell my younger writing self something, it would be to stop worrying about what others think, stop doubting yourself, and write anyway.

 

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

How long it takes to write a book depends on the writer, research, and desire. My latest book took six months to write but was well over a year before being published. The current books have been over two years and still are not even halfway completed. Sometimes the words flow so quickly that you can’t type fast enough and sometimes it’s an empty canvas. I’ve heard of some writers taking ten years to complete something and some never do.  I find writer’s block to be a very real thing and when it happens, I just let it be. I’ll read and write in my journal or sometimes choose a topic so far removed from my current writing topic just to spark some ideas or flow.

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A D Vancise lives in Canada. When she’s not writing, she’s taking care of her three dogs, her cat, two ducks and some chickens. Her daughter is her inspiration for all things wonderful in the world.

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Into the Lure of Time

by Vera Bell

 

(Always and Forever, #2)
Publication date: April 23rd 2024
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense, Time-Travel

In this gripping sequel to the award-winning novel, Through the Veneer of Time, echoes of Siena’s past life lure her into a shocking indiscretion that threatens to destroy her marriage. She alone can undo the damage, but this chilling revelation is only the beginning of her battle.

1564, ULSTER, IRELAND. After Aedan’s diplomatic visit to Queen Elizabeth’s court results in his compulsory divorce and arranged marriage, Neave’s violent unraveling drives her into another man’s arms. But in seeking revenge, Neave falls into a perfect trap set by Aedan’s enemy. By the time she learns the truth, it’s too late to undo the damage to Aedan, herself, and the hard-won peace in Ulster. When despair makes her reckless, the price will be a lifetime of infamy, confinement, and isolation from what Neave treasures most—Aedan and her son.

2011, WASHINGTON D.C./DALLAS, TX. It seems like a reasonable plan—Siena finishing her final mural in D.C. while Ryan starts his new job in Dallas. But when Siena meets Ryan’s new FBI partner, an inexplicable fit of jealousy sends her on a downward spiral. To make matters worse, the present mirrors the past when her visions take a startling turn. Consumed by insecurities, Siena takes a drastic step, which proves a catastrophic lapse in judgment. When her self-fulfilling prophecy unfolds in a devastating inversion of the past, Siena’s actions could cost her the two people she most fears to lose—Ryan and their baby.

Will Siena and Ryan beat their disastrous odds, or is their marriage foredoomed?

If you love time travel romance with dark undertones, as well as elements of domestic suspense, psychosexual thriller, and a touch of magic, don’t miss the second installment of the Always and Forever trilogy!

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Everything—the floor, the walls, the air—fell away. Only this parchment in my hand remained.

Chimeric. Foretold.

Somewhere deep down, I knew I stood very still, calm, and mute, my eyes fixed on Aedan’s precise English hand. But I also hovered above, crumbling into bleeding bits. Watching my life’s blood drain out of me and wash the world in crimson, drop by drop by drop—

Kian said something, his voice familiar, ordinary. It cannot be. I shifted my gaze to the broken seal. An English forgery to foment strife. A cruel trickery to break our spirit. But there was yet a paragraph unread—

As I shall be returning soon after you take delivery of this dispatch, I trust that as my loyal subject, you will abide my expressed demand in the proper and expeditious fashion commensurate with the sensitivity of this matter. As well, it is my uttermost wish that you will, hitherto, regard me solely as your rightful ruler, and as such, would not seek my audience in any unseemly or unsuitable manner. Furthermore, shall you find yourself in my presence, I rely on your good sense and proper decorum to act toward me with such deference and regard as befits my rank.

Earl II of Tyrone, Lord Aedan O’Neal

This 5th Day of January, 1565

The hall swayed. The parchment slipped from my fingers. His handwriting. His name. His signature. What forgery?

Kian steadied me with his hands on my shoulders, eyes frozen with horror.

He bent to take the parchment, pinching it between his thumb and index finger like it was something vile to touch. Like it would sully anyone mad enough to lay a hand on it.

“Is…is h-he…dead?”

The dais stood wrapped in saffron and gold, awaiting the O’Neal’s return.

I came back to myself. My eyes burned with salt. My throat chafed with sand. My heart burst into icy, piercing shards. How determined he was to go to London, how callous to slam our chamber door.

All content subject to copyright © Vera Bell 2024. All rights reserved.

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About Author Vera Bell:

Imagine doing Past Life Regression (PLR) for the first time and emerging with a crazy book idea! That was exactly how I came to write my award-wining debut, “Through the Veneer of Time,” Book One of the time-travel romance trilogy, “Always and Forever.” But while my PLR session was a vivid, impassioned encounter, bursting with colors, sounds, smells, textures, and a bizarrely visceral knowledge, it was incomplete. Yet despite trying to go back, I never could. So I wrote the continuation in my head until it became so extensive and detailed, I had to put it on paper.

Besides being a writer, I’m a wife to my high-school sweetheart, a mother to two teenagers and one fur baby, a former commercial artist and boutique owner, and a member of the Historical Novel Society and Romance Writers of America. My favorite place to write is on my porch, overlooking a pond lined with river birches and magnolias. The topics I never tire of are bygone eras, our universal human condition, and love that transcends time and space.

Want to be in the know? Join my mailing list at VeraBellAuthor dot com and follow me on Facebook @ReadingBells and on Instagram @VeraBellAuthor.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

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Get ready for a pulse-pounding journey through the darkest corridors of power in the Otis Thorne thriller series!

In the second Otis Thorne thriller, a malevolent alliance triggers a global pandemic, forcing Thorne and Noah into a race against time. Can they unravel the sinister plot?

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Black Dust

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The Otis Thorne Thriller Series Book 2

by Arla Jones

Genre: Thriller, Suspense

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An action-packed thriller for fans of Clancy, Thor, and Flynn, Great for readers of political conspiracies and CIA counterterrorism missions.

In the gripping second installment of the Otis Thorne thriller series, the world is thrust into chaos as a malevolent alliance between Russia and North Korea unleashes a deadly biological weapon upon the United States. The insidious plan triggers a devastating global pandemic, pushing Otis Thorne and his trusted ally, Noah, into a perilous race against time. As they unravel the sinister plot, they find out who is behind the deadly biological attack against their country. With lives hanging in the balance and the fate of nations at stake, Thorne and Noah must navigate a treacherous web of deception, danger, and intrigue to uncover the truth and stop the relentless march of the pandemic.

This second book will leave you breathless and wanting more.

Amazon * Books2Read * Bookbub * Goodreads

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 1 The Biting Dust

 

 An underground research facility, North Korea, 2027

 

The underground facility was perfect for secret tests, including nuclear and chemical experiments that they did not want any of their enemies or neighboring countries to see on the satellite. The facility was dug deep underground into a volcanic mountain that hadn’t experienced any volcanic activity for years. Only the high-ranking members of the Worker’s Party knew about this facility.

The secret nuclear weapon and chemical weapon research in this facility created an environmental change in the bugs that had come in contact with the research area. The tiny insects that survived the chemical environmental change moved in the air like a cloud of black dust, looking for a living animal or person, and then attaching to the skin. The scientists called these bugs:

무는 먼지 muneun meonji which meant the biting dust.

It was a new form of life, not exactly anything that had existed before, but they were tough and resilient, like cockroaches, and could survive almost anything. The only difference was that these bugs were microscopic and moved together, never individually.

The scientists were both surprised and horrified by what they had created. They knew that, for example, grasshoppers could change their behavior because of crowding, which is called density-dependent phenotypic plasticity and refers to the bugs changing behavior due to environmental factors. The North Korean scientists suspected that something similar had happened to these bugs that had survived the chemical and nuclear research area, and thus, this new form of black bugs appeared on Earth.

When the sun set and it became dark, these bugs searched for their next target, any warm-blooded living thing would do, and they started biting. For some reason, the bugs never moved or bit during the daytime.

The scientists first thought was that the reports of the biting bugs were just imagination or hallucination, but when they got a sample of the black dust under the microscope, the bug looked more like a blackish-green crystal than a normal bug except this crystallized bug was alive. It was a new form of life created by chemical weapons.

The researchers observed that these insects exhibited movement to locate their target specifically during cooler temperatures, typically after sunset. They hypothesized that each minuscule bug functioned like a vampire, extracting blood from the host, resulting in a sensation of biting and itching. This experience often gave the impression of something crawling on the skin, followed by a subsequent sting, with the intensity increasing based on the number of bugs present on the skin. The scientists studied the bugs some more and realized that and realized they could reproduce themselves.

The bugs displayed no distinction between males and females. The researchers observed that the life cycle of adult-sized insects spanned approximately five days, following a developmental period of one week to reach this stage.

At the end of the adult-sized bugs’ life cycle, the insect emitted a cloud of black dust, smaller than its original size and measuring approximately one-fifth of a millimeter. These entities, referred to by scientists as eggs, cracked open resembling a butterfly’s cocoon, revealing larvae inside. These juvenile bugs exhibited rapid growth, reaching the size of an adult, around half a millimeter, within a week. The most troubling discovery was that the scientists could not find any method to kill these bugs or their eggs. They tried all kinds of pesticides to no avail. They even tried to burn a building infested with these bugs, but the bugs survived.

They conceded that there was no established method for exterminating these nightcrawlers. However, the scientists soon recognized that they possessed an unparalleled weapon, unique in the world. It was now imperative to devise a strategy for employing these insects to their advantage against their adversaries.

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The next phase was to experiment with the labor camp prisoners. They chose a distant location in Hoeryong, where the notorious concentration camp was reportedly closed in 2012. However, in reality, it was still running state-supported secret experiments on the remaining political prisoners.

This infamous camp was in North Hamgyong province in northeast North Korea, close to China’s border and about 700 miles away from the Sea of Japan. Regardless of how close the camp was to the Chinese border, not many prisoners escaped.

It was heavily guarded, and the experiments and malnutrition made the prisoners weak and sick. Most of them were brought there in the back of a truck in the middle of the night, so they never saw the outside of the camp and where it was located. They had poor-quality shoes that were not made to walk long distances along the valleys and hills on uneven ground. If they escaped, their prison outfit would not keep them warm during the freezing nights when the temperature dropped below twenty Fahrenheit.

It was the perfect place for the new secret weapon experiment.

The prisoners were never told what the new experiment would be. They were just exposed to it. This time it was the bugs!

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Fathers and Sons

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The Otis Thorne Thriller Series Book 1

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A High-Stake Conspiracy with Historical Roots. A Sci-Fi Political Thriller. Moral Dilemmas. Infiltration of Trusted Institutions. International Espionage. Blackmail and Personal Stakes. Race Against Time.

In ‘Fathers and Sons,’ a riveting thriller unfolds as a clandestine organization threatens to plunge the United States into chaos by undermining both its political stability and the integrity of President Andrew Burr.

Otis Thorne, a former CIA operative, becomes President Burr’s last hope as he unearths a sinister infiltration of the White House, leaving trust in short supply. With the United Nations General Assembly looming, Thorne races against time to expose the conspiracy, exacerbated by the coercive demand that President Burr deliver a specific pro-Russian speech. The stakes intensify as the blackmailers hold the life of the President’s son in the balance, with a series of demands that trace their origins back to the darkest days of WWII, Nazi Germany, and the Soviet Union.

Will Thorne untangle the web of deceit in time to save not only the President’s family but the entire nation from an insidious plot decades in the making?

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Chapter 1 The Secret Meeting

 

On a cold, crisp night in the waning winter days of 2026, a lonely doorman stood in front of a dimly lit restaurant waiting for someone. It was past midnight. Most restaurants in the King Street area of Arlington, Virginia, closed at midnight or earlier. With the constant swarm of customers earlier that same evening, the bright lights and sounds of chatter and music gave way to soothing darkness. The night softened the sharp edges of the buildings and toned down the harsh bright colors of the restaurant signs.

If there had been an observer, he would have noticed a line of limousines arriving. In each one of the limousines was a single passenger. After the passengers got out of their luxurious limousines and walked up the few marble steps to the heavy iron door, the limousines drove quietly away. Each passenger showed his right wrist to the burly-looking doorman, who then opened the door and let the passenger inside after checking it.

An exclusive group of rich and powerful men had gathered for a clandestine meeting. This was their first gathering in person. The men had talked several times on the phone and held video conferences, but they had never met in person. Only Hydra, their leader, had met the participants individually on a few selected occasions. But those meetings had been kept discreet and in remote locations, like his well-guarded dacha, his luxury holiday country home by the Black Sea.

These men wanted to shape the global economy and international politics for the benefit of their homeland and themselves. Operation Pobeda had brought them together. Pobeda means a victory or a coup in the Russian language. The operation had started over seventy years ago and had required lots of money and time to prepare. But the most important thing was that they needed one man on their side who could fulfill their demands and get them what they wanted, namely the president of the United States.

The group called themselves Septem, the Seven. The name, Septem, referred to the number of participants in the group—seven—even though not all of them participated in person in the meetings. The Septem needed one day to start a successful execution of all the activities in Operation Pobeda that would change the world and threaten the stability of the world order.

The ages of the Septem ranged from mid-forties to seventies. Each man had a different tattoo on their right wrist: Phoenix, Hydra, Werewolf, Hippogriff, Cyborg, Nachtkrapp, and Basilisk. Each tattoo represented a mythical or a sci-fi creature. They used their tattoos both as an identity check as well as code names because they did not want to be heard communicating with each other by their real names and talking about their secret operation. Their faces and businesses were too familiar to everyone following the news. If their collaboration had been known, someone might have started asking questions. These men were too clever and too careful to let any outsiders know about Operation Pobeda. They knew that knowledge was both leverage and power. The stakes were high.

When the Septem group members entered the restaurant, they glanced around to ensure it was as private and secure as their leader, Hydra, had promised. The place was empty except for these men who had arrived.

The color scheme inside was of cool grays and blues, with metallic touches on the walls. The tiny lights on the ceiling bathed the room in a soft glow. The thick blue curtains were drawn over the windows so no one would see inside the restaurant. One wooden table was placed in the center of the room. A few flower arrangements of white Callas and purple anemones in tall vases on the pedestals were arranged around the dining room.

The table was set for seven men with as many tablet computers on it. In the middle of the table, a set of glasses and bottles of sparkling water, house wine, brandy, and vodka bottles were ready. However, none of the participants considered this visit a social one.

One seat was empty, but there was a tablet computer because this participant joined the meeting via video call. He had covered his face with a black bird mask called il dottore. The mask had glass openings in the eyes and a long, curved black beak. The bird mask was fitting because his tattoo represented a mythological bird—a Nachtkrapp, a scary night raven, inked inside his right wrist. Just like all the other participants, he showed his wrist to the others for identification purposes. He used voice-altering software that gave his voice a deep metallic sound to make sure that nobody recognized him.

They could have had all the meetings online via video conference call, but none wanted to do that because someone could still be listening, monitoring, and might discover their plans. The man with the Hippogriff tattoo on his wrist owned the restaurant, and no outsider could have planted listening devices there without him knowing it. He also provided limousines for the participants. The most important thing was to keep Operation Pobeda secret. The other reason was that if they had to make difficult decisions, it was always better to do it face-to-face, for example, if they had to sacrifice a member of this group to ensure the operation’s success.

“Is everyone in order?” Hydra, the spokesman, asked with a thick Russian accent. He glanced at the computer screen in front of him. They were all there. The operation was ready to launch.

Hydra was in his early seventies. He was a tall, slender, white-haired man with eyes as friendly as a shark’s. The many-headed serpentine monster, Hydra, was tattooed on the inside of his right wrist. He was one of the oligarchs that had emerged in Russia after its transition from socialism to capitalism, and he was well-connected to the Russian mob and the government. He knew how and who to bribe to get things done in the new Russia. His billions had come from owning media companies in Russia and transferring his investments to Swiss bank accounts before the economic sanctions sank the ruble.

“Yes, Hydra, Operation Pobeda will be set in motion today as agreed,” an elderly man with salt and pepper hair replied. “The doppelganger is ready to play his part.” He had a Basilisk tattoo, a legendary reptile that can kill with a single glance.

“Any new developments?” Hydra asked. His icy gaze went around the table. Some of the participants faced his stare with blank, brave looks, and some turned their eyes toward the tablets in front of them. Everyone feared Hydra, their government ally, their strategist, not just because of his fortune but because of his influence and his high-level allies in Russia.

“Everything is going as planned. No delays, no changes. My men are in place and ready to go to the airport,” a man wearing a black leather vest and pants replied. He had a huge, fiery-looking Werewolf with flaming eyes tattooed on his right wrist. He looked like a member of a motorcycle gang. He was in his mid-forties and had earned his fortune in drugs, sex, collecting debts, and later setting up legal shell companies to hide his more illicit businesses.

“Thank you for the update, Werewolf,” Hydra replied and asked the one person participating via video conference, “Do you have anything else to share with the rest of us, Nachtkrapp?”

“The President won’t have a clue what hit him,” Nachtkrapp replied with a metallic voice, but you could still hear a slight Bostonian accent.

“Everything seems to be in order. “If there is nothing else, then we will meet again after the first phase of Operation Pobeda is over,” Hydra said, ending the clandestine meeting.

It had started raining, and the raindrops glinted in the streetlights like silver silk. The doorman held a large umbrella for each man until they got into their limousines. Then he went back for the next one. Hydra was the first to leave, and Werewolf was the last. Each man left the same way they came, alone and in a dark limousine with tinted windows. The doorman closed the restaurant doors and turned off the lights.

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Enthusiastic about crafting high-octane thrillers packed with action and unexpected plot twists, Arla Jones, blends her personal experiences to create tales that will set your heart pounding. With each keystroke, she conjures compelling characters, some you’ll root for, and others you’ll love to despise. Beyond the keyboard, the author finds solace in gardening and draws inspiration from the vibrant world around her. Immerse yourself in her stories, where danger and desire collide, and be prepared for an unforgettable, exhilarating journey. Brace yourself, dear reader, as Arla Jones is poised to take you on a thrilling ride you won’t easily forget.

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The Machine Murders by CJ Abazis Banner.

The Machine Murders
by CJ Abazis
March 25-April 5, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
Desert Balloons
A Dubai balloon festival is attacked by the most lethal social engineering exploit the world has ever seen. Pilots die. Local politics crumble. Is AI to blame?

A prime moment to be working for Interpol. Manos Manu, Interpol data scientist, arrives in the United Arab Emirates to solve a series of murders that have shaken the Middle East. Interpol’s Singapore back office has proven world-class, with a machine learning team of the best engineers from around the globe – including Manos’ girlfriend Mei. Tested under pressure in the field, his custom system is nothing short of brilliant. But this time, his arch-nemesis is not simply a killer. Not even a web of determined developers, scattered across the world. His enemy is his very own nature.

 

Book Details:

Genre: Suspense

Published by: Publisto Publication Date: January 2024 Number of Pages: 284 ISBN: 979-8871582299 Series: The Machine Murders, 2 (stand alone novels)

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

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MY REVIEW

We live in the age of what I call, “Tech Now.” We want more tech. Better tech. Sicfi Tech. When I read The Machine Murders was about using advanced AI to catch killers my imagination took flight. Isn’t that title perfect.

And I’ve always wanted  to soar high in a hot air balloon. The author’s description almost put me there. Good thing I’m not afraid of heights. Might have experienced a touch of vertigo though.

The story presentation was spot on. Same for the characters and location. I fell right into the story. Might have stumbled a bit here and there as I’m not as tech savvy as I’d like to be. But that’s why I enjoy reading. I’m being taught something new while also becoming immersed in the author’s imagination.

This was an exciting thriller that taught me a thing or two and kept my attention on high alert.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:

1.

Manos Manu was running his fingertip along the spines of books, as if automatically scanning their contents. He knew his data would be crystal-clear seen below the Singapore sun which grew hotter every day, but for the moment it was as though he could hear it, the data echoing like the descending scales of a piano, every note feeding a neural network. From one shelf to the next, his query never wavered: What is the soul? “Bye, Baby! Planning on wasting much time there?” Blowing a kiss over her lovely shoulder, Mei was gone. Leaving what? Artificial intelligence has consciousness, even ingenuity. So what sets machines apart from humans besides the soul? He turned back to the books. There weren’t that many: Barber’s Bayesian Reasoning, works of Bishop and Hinton, Sutton’s Reinforcement Learning: An Introduction, and a few titles about neural nets. There was also an untouched Michael Crichton mystery, though not Jurassic Park. But such was Mei. If you want history, she’d say, read papers. If you want to learn, read code. If you need to know what people are saying about a piece of code, jump on X. Books were about as useful to AI as military theory was on the battlefield. What you need in the trenches is ammunition. In AI, just code. Just GitHub, the goings-on of which were too big for any conceivable library. He also couldn’t stop thinking of Lena Sideris. In the two months since his return from Greece he kept remembering her body, cut open on a marble table like a broken porcelain doll being sent back to the factory. Her eyes glassy orbs. Did they hold consciousness? Emotion? They didn’t. A soul? He didn’t trace the spines of books now, but grabbed one of Barber’s works, opened to a random page and ripped it out. He returned it to the shelf, moving on to Sutton and all the others, tearing out a page from each one till he had about fifty. Incomplete, these books would now confront anyone reading them with inconsistency. Making sure the books were replaced perfectly so that Mei would never notice, he shredded the pages in his hands till they looked like ticker-tape confetti and went back out onto the balcony. Different weather awaited him. Broad heavy clouds skittered across the sun’s rays, leaving traces as if from speeding aircraft. He threw some of the shreds over the glass railing, where the wind swept them past the ceiling, high overhead. He hurled the rest into the air and stared, mesmerized by their flight. Was this a gesture Artificial General Intelligence would choose to make? It wasn’t. An AGI would have carefully selected which pages to discard. He’d barely thought to read them. This was futile, illogical, diabolical. He’d destroyed books from his beloved’s library. And he felt wonderful. Was this having a soul? He’d committed a decidedly wicked act. This is what separates us from machines. Evil. Then he remembered what he’d been trying to forget: And murder.

2.

It was Sunday morning and the first time she’d left him alone at her place. Before long, he received a message to meet up for brunch at Marina Bay. Mei would also swing by the office for the latest build of Mei-Nu, which was the name of their custom-made dating platform. They’d sifted through the crawled data correlating user profiles from sites like Tinder, Bubble, Coffee Meets Bagel, and Lovoo, elaborating a few of their own layers beyond basic personality tests. But both knew Myers-Briggs would only get them so far. They needed more and better data: time to start seeing other people. He arrived at Jypsy, late as usual. Mei was already seated with a couple at a table overlooking the Marina. “And here’s Manos!” Mei called, with a cheerful smile. “Sorry. Traffic,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on his new date. Her name was Daria, a pretty twenty-seven year old maritime attorney. She was of average build with big Anime eyes. Her psychometrics had indicated she was the enfp type, matching well with Manos’ intj. Creative, funny, a communicator. A handful, like him. He glanced over at Mei’s match, who was clearly regretting he’d come at all. Mei launched their routine: “Thanks so much for meeting like this. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable by myself. Manos is a faithful friend.” “Of course!” gushed Daria. “I’m chicken too – on dates, I mean . . .” Bullshit. She’s fearless. “It’s a bit strange,” said the young man. “A blind double date. It’s a good idea, but . . .” His name was Marc, a banker from France. Type infp: diplomatic, introverted, yet apparently open-minded. Manos sensed he was very attracted to Mei and felt a pang of jealousy. Who wouldn’t be crazy about her? He would have to get used to it. Mei read his thoughts with a breezy smile before focusing on her date. They had work to do. For the next half hour, Manos and Mei worked through their mental checklist item by item to examine the people caught for them by the neural network they’d cast. This tête-à-tête had parameters culled from a somewhat small set of their respective right-swipes. Hidden biases lurked. For all. For example, if, as he claimed, Manos preferred the Chinese type to the Mediterranean – say, the actress Sun Li versus a Lena Sideris – then what the hell was Daria doing here, with her cascading black curls, fresh as lemon groves on the Amalfi coast? With well-preprocessed data, even half an algorithm nails you! Half an hour of small talk revealed where they were from, where they worked, their favorite movies, where they would love to travel, Like, if you could just leave tomorrow . . . . It also revealed to Manos they’d made a mistake. Sex was a mistake. Which made Daria a mistake. They had pulled profiles without timestamp-based clustering. This allowed data from hastily created profiles, like those made by married travelers looking for a quick hookup, which they hadn’t had time to isolate from the training datasets. Classic case of overfitting[1]. The algorithms worked, but with so much noisy data, spontaneity was redefined as fear. Fear’s not attractive. Fear degenerated into aggression and haste. Since we’re here, let’s do it right on the seafood bar, by the open oysters . . . Another possible issue was voiced by Marc, who was saying: “I’m not convinced double blind dates work.” But Mei knew the problem was Manos himself. Always botching things! Attempting to “eliminate system biases” he’d added a stupid line of code actually designed to test the weights of their own Asian-American romance: sorted_data = sorted(data, key=lambda x: x[‘Asian’]). Sweet of him, really. Daria and Marc, each suspicious of these two nutjobs giving each other flirtatious looks and running the conversation along some shared secret formula, suddenly got up to use the restrooms. Mei opened her laptop, steam practically coming out of her ears. “I saw it this morning! I can’t believe you!” “I don’t think it’s the command,” he murmured. “The data –” “Mei, it’s psychology, it’ not smooth world[2]. Anyway,” he smiled, cooling the tension. “I think Marc likes you.” “You know he’s not my type.” “Oh, but trust your data.” “Manos Manu, are you trying to get rid of me?” “No,” he said. “You’re my ground truth.” Ground truth. A tech term they’d appropriated, meaning she mattered more to Manos than anything. Mei flushed with a thrill as he pulled her close, kissing her. They were swept up in vertigo, their kisses wet in all the right places. The world disappeared, as if their neurons were drunk and brimming over. Until Daria reappeared. With Marc. Neither took their seats. Instead they stood staring. “I guess blind dates work out after all,” Marc teased. Daria gave a crooked smile, a few locks of her glossy hair spiraling out wildly. Something had apparently happened in the bathroom. “Noise!” cried Manos, triumphant. Mei’s smile was as funny as Daria’s as she tumbled back into Manos’ arms. In the confusion, Daria’s much-needed enfp leadership came to the rescue. “Ok, this started off wrong, but let’s make it right,” she said. “Marc and I want to hit a beach club in Sentosa.” They all looked at each other, and Daria added, “You guys are super-nerds, but . . . do you want to come?” ________________________________________ [1] Machine learning term. Manos means the models they used were overly complex, resulting in incorporating irrelevant data in order to achieve the desired outcome (“noise”), such as the profiles of married individuals, for example. [2] “Law of the smooth world” in machine learning refers to real-world data,e.g.audio/speech/images/video *** Excerpt from The Machine Murders by CJ Abazis. Copyright 2024 by CJ Abazis. Reproduced with permission from CJ Abazis. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author CJ Abazis:

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CJ Abazis

CJ Abazis manages a software company in Athens, Greece.

Catch Up With CJ Abazis: www.TheMachineMurders.com Goodreads BookBub – @abazis Instagram – @themachinemurders Twitter/X – @CJAbazis Facebook – @manosmanuseries

 

 

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Struck Dead by Andrea Kane Banner

Struck Dead

by Andrea Kane

March 4 – 29, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

The fragile line between life and death… Families that will never be the same…

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When a tragic hit-and-run takes the life of a hardworking family man, multi-millionaire Christopher Hillington becomes the prime suspect, and the whole city of New York alights with speculation as to what happened. But before the NYPD can establish Hillington’s guilt, he himself is brutally murdered in his own home. As he lays dying, he scrawls the name Casey Woods with his own blood, and the Forensic Instincts team is drawn into a complex mystery that has placed its president in the sights of a desperate killer. A millionaire’s life is full of secrets and suspects. So as the baffled NYPD investigates Casey for the murder, and the body-count ratchets up, Casey herself becomes another potential victim. The FI team’s hardcore investigation has them twisting and turning through suspects and secrets, where the stakes intensify―and so does the collateral damage. As Casey and the team get closer to finding the killer, the unthinkable happens, and the life of one of FI’s own hangs in the blood-stained balance. They say dead men tell no tales, but blood doesn’t lie. Peeling back layer after layer of deception, the team will cross whatever lines are necessary to solve the case, get justice for the families, and make their team whole again…unless the relentless killer gets to them first.

 

Book Details:

Genre: Suspense Thriller

Published by: Bonnie Meadow Publishing Publication Date: March 2024 Number of Pages: 384 ISBN: 9781682320631 (ISBN10: 1682320634) Series: Forensic Instincts (#10)

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

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MY REVIEW

I admit that I’ve only read a couple of books in this series. And those weren’t in any order. I kept meaning to go back and start at the beginning and read my way through to this one, the 10th in the series. That didn’t happen. Still, I’m fascinated by the idea of this series. A PI team made up of the best of the best in their areas of expertise. A tight investigative team as much family as coworkers. Also, each book can stand alone but I saw how the character’s lives had changed and relationships were formed. It made me more curious to read how each of their stories began. I’m a fan of character growth.

There’s two crimes to solve, and so many clues to unravel. The author’s talent in making it complex and not easily seen was impressive. I was fascinated by even the little things that came up, wondering how important they would be in solving the crimes.

A strong beginning, suspenseful and twisting road in the middle, and a nice curve ball at the satisfying conclusion. Now, I’m planning that leap back to the beginning so I can get to know the characters as they are introduced. I’m sure each book will bring that character growth I love along with new characters and some complex cases. Can’t wait!

5 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:

1

Offices of Forensic Instincts Tribeca, New York Main conference room Monday, 9:40 a.m.
Casey Woods, the president of Forensic Instincts, stood at the head of the oval table, her jaw having dropped. She pressed her iPhone closer to her ear, and tried to reconcile herself, both to who the caller was, and the reason for her call. She certainly didn’t sound like the Angela King that Casey knew. And why in the name of heaven was she reaching out to Casey, of all people? Angela repeated her original demand: “I need you to meet me now—as in drop everything and get over here.” This time her voice was commanding but shaken. Shaken? Angela King? Casey’s mind raced. Angela was a high-powered and aggressive criminal defense attorney at Harris, Porter, & Donnelly. A virtual barracuda. Rumor had it that she was next up to make partner. No surprise. She successfully defended the richest of the rich, from corporate executives, to wealthy entrepreneurs, to “businessmen” with rumored links to Organized Crime—a fact she chose to overlook since they were affluent enough to pay her fees. She and Forensic Instincts were on opposite sides of law enforcement. They’d battled it out more than once the criminals that FI had helped catch becoming the very criminals Angela would defend. Needless to say, the FI team and Angela weren’t friends. And yet, here she was, calling Casey on an urgent, time-is-of-the-essence matter—one she seemed incredibly high-strung about. “Casey?” Angela repeated. “Did you hear me?” Casey lowered herself into a chair. “I heard you. What is this about? And why me, of all people?” “You’ll see for yourself,” Angela replied. She rattled off the address of a luxury skyscraper on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. “Hurry. I’m jeopardizing my career by waiting to call 9-1-1. I can’t wait much longer. But you have to view the scene first and later provide me with some answers. No more questions. Just come. I have a key to the building’s back door. I’ll let you in. We’ll use the freight elevator.” Casey’s common sense was urging her to refuse. 9-1-1 meant a crime scene, and questions meant involving her. Both those things were screaming for her to stay away. She pushed aside that inner voice. She was too intrigued to refuse. “I’m on my way.” She shrugged into her wool winter coat as she called John Nickels, Forensic Instincts’ number one on their security team. Then, she blew out the front door, not waiting to fill the FI team in on where she was going. There was no time. Plus, they’d only try to talk her out of it. Holiday decorations were glistening everywhere, and tiny snowflakes danced in the air. Casey didn’t notice any of it. John pulled around a few minutes later, and Casey hopped into the car, gave him the address, and urged him to hurry. With a brief nod, John was on his way, navigating the FDR Drive in record time. He got Casey to her destination in thirteen minutes. He dropped her off around back, far from the doorman’s view. Then, he waited to return her to the brownstone once her meeting was over, as per her instructions. Angela was pacing inside the building, and opened the door to let Casey in the moment she saw her. No matter how dire the occasion, Angela always looked stunning. An Armani cobalt blue pants suit that set off her dark skin, matching four-inch Louboutin heels, and long wavy black hair styled at the highest end salon. She carried herself like a queen. In short, she was a knock-out. Now she looked more rattled than Casey had ever seen her. “Let’s go,” she said. She led the way to the freight elevator, where she and Casey rode up. “Tell me what’s going on,” Casey stated flatly. Angela didn’t answer. She glanced at her Apple Watch, her gaze snapping up as the elevator stopped on the twenty-first floor. The doors slid open. Angela paused only long enough to ensure that Casey was right behind her. Then, she strode down the hall, made a turn, and halted in front of Apartment Twenty-One B. She unlocked the door, pulled Casey inside, and faced her to offer the first few words of an explanation. “This is the home of my client, Christopher Hillington. We had a nine-thirty AM meeting scheduled to be held here.” Casey’s brows rose. Christopher Hillington was a renowned and phenomenally wealthy managing director of the private equity firm YNE. He was also a major suspect in a vehicular homicide, and Casey knew through various news sources that he’d been questioned several times by the NYPD and was on the verge of arrest. “I see you know of him,” Angela said. “Given the circumstances, I’m not surprised.” She gestured toward a breathtaking sunken living room. “In here.” Casey bit back her question about what Angela had just said. She sensed she was about to get her answers. So she remained silent. The two women stepped down and Angela stood to a side and waited. Casey got the full view immediately. Christopher Hillington’s body was crumpled on the Oriental carpet beside his desk, blood pooling out around him. His head was bashed in, clearly having been struck multiple times by a heavy object. The bloodied sledge hammer lying next to the body was obviously the murder weapon. Judging from the damage done, the killer had been, not only determined, but brutal. Casey eyeballed the scene, feeling sickened as well as confused. She was about to ask Angela what this horrific scene had to do with her when she spotted the letters, written in blood, on the lower edge of the desk, right beside Hillington’s outstretched arm. She walked over, careful not to touch anything, squatted down, and squinted. The two words were completely legible, and they made Casey’s blood run cold. Casey Woods. *** Excerpt from Struck Dead by Andrea Kane. Copyright 2024 by Andrea Kane. Reproduced with permission from Andrea Kane. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Andrea Kane:

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Andrea Kane

Andrea Kane is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of thirty-two novels, including eighteen psychological thrillers and fourteen historical romantic suspense titles. With her signature style, Kane creates unforgettable characters and confronts them with life-threatening danger. As a master of suspense, she weaves them into exciting, carefully-researched stories, pushing them to the edge—and keeping her readers up all night. Kane’s first contemporary suspense thriller, Run for Your Life, became an instant New York Times bestseller. She followed with a string of bestselling psychological thrillers including No Way Out, Twisted and Drawn in Blood. Her latest in the highly successful Forensic Instincts series, Struck Dead, showcases the dynamic, eclectic team of investigators as they hunt down a desperate killer who’s threatened one of their own. The first showcase of Forensic Instincts’ talents came with the New York Times bestseller, The Girl Who Disappeared Twice, followed by The Line Between Here and Gone, The Stranger You Know, The Silence That Speaks, The Murder That Never Was, A Face To Die For, Dead In A Week, No Stone Unturned, At Any Cost, and Struck Dead. Kane’s beloved historical romantic suspense novels include My Heart’s Desire, Samantha, Echoes in the Mist, and Wishes in the Wind. With a worldwide following of passionate readers, her books have been published in more than twenty languages. Kane lives in New Jersey with her family. She’s an avid crossword puzzle solver and a diehard Yankees fan. Author Hometown – Warren, New Jersey

Catch Up With Andrea Kane: www.AndreaKane.com Goodreads BookBub Instagram – @authorandreakane Twitter/X – @andrea_kane Facebook – @AuthorAndreaKane

 

 

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Never Fall Again

by Lynn H Blackburn

March 4-29, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

Landry Hutton has spent three years rebuilding her life behind the secure gates of The Haven, an exclusive resort on the outskirts of Gossamer Falls, North Carolina. As the artist-in-residence, and with her pottery prized by The Haven’s guests, Landry is finally ready to settle in permanently. She wants to give her daughter, Eliza, a safe home to grow up in and hires former Marine Callum Shaw to handle the construction. Cal grew up in Gossamer Falls and always knew he would someday join his family’s business. He longs for a family of his own but has almost given up on that ever happening. Landry is funny, gifted, and everything Cal could ever want in a partner, but he vows to keep his distance. Landry has a daughter and a past. Cal has been down that road before and barely survived when the woman he loved left, taking her two sons with her. He can’t bear to lose like that again. Before construction on the house can begin, Landry’s pottery is destroyed in a suspicious fire. It soon becomes clear that Landry and Eliza are in grave danger–but because of whom? But, after losing one relationship, he is hesitant to try again.

Praise for Never Fall Again:

“What a fabulous story with characters who will live in your head–and heart–long after the last word.” ~ Lynette Eason, award-winning, bestselling author of the Lake City Heroes series “Lynn Blackburn’s voice is unrivaled! A must-read.” ~ Elizabeth Goddard, bestselling author of Cold Light of Day “This book had it all–a delicious romance, obsession, found family, redemption and reconciliation, edge-of-your-seat suspense, and the kind of ending we all root for!” ~ Susan May Warren, USA Today bestselling and RITA Award-winning author

 

Book Details:

Genre: Romantic Suspense Published by: Revell Publication Date: March 12, 2024 Number of Pages: 352 ISBN: 9780800745363 (ISBN10: 0800745361) Series: Gossamer Falls, Book 1

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

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MY REVIEW

Landry and her daughter, Eliza, are setting into their new life in Gossamer Falls, North Carolina. It’s a chance to start over and leave their tragic past behind.  She has a job as an art instructor at a prestigious resort and meets many influential people. She finds hope there and decides to stay. Enter former marine Cal Shaw, the man she hires to build her new home. The attraction is powerful but they’re both damaged and fear taking it to the next level. Will they find happiness? Will their past stop haunting them?

Many books I read pull me in right from the start. That didn’t happen here and that’s okay .I enjoy character driven stories and there were a lot to sort out. Some of them were very endearing. Even a four legged one. The more I read the more familiar they felt and I really got into the book. The mystery unraveled slowly until I neared the end. Then the suspense ramped up and I couldn’t wait for all to be revealed. I’m invested in these characters now and I’ll be watching for the next book to see how they are faring.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
They passed several offices before they reached an open door. “Maisy. Stay.” That same deep voice from the intercom floated to the hallway. “Oooh! A dog!” Eliza dashed into the room. Her little sprite was fast and already halfway across the office before Landry realized what was happening. “Eliza, wait!” Fortunately, she stopped at Landry’s words. “I know, Mommy. Never touch a dog without permission. I just want to see.” Eliza turned her big brown eyes toward the man who had come around his desk and knelt beside a dog now quivering with excitement. The man—Callum Shaw, she assumed—met her daughter’s eyes and said, “Your mom’s right. You can’t ever rush at a dog, even dogs as gentle as this big baby. But if it’s okay with your mom . . .” His eyes, which were as blue as the Carolina sky, now met hers. There was humor and gentleness. And shadows. Something dark flitted across his gaze. But then he blinked and it was gone. Landry nodded her permission, and he turned all his attention back to her daughter. “This is Maisy. She’s a golden retriever. She’s three years old. She loves long walks in the woods, sunbathing, peanut butter, and belly rubs.” He demonstrated the belly rub. Maisy melted under his touch, and Eliza crept closer. “You can pet her. Maisy doesn’t bite my friends.” Eliza dropped to her knees beside Callum and held out her hand toward Maisy’s nose. Maisy took a quick sniff and rewarded Eliza’s good behavior with a lick. Callum stayed where he was until it was clear to everyone that Eliza and Maisy were set, then he rose to his feet and extended a hand. “Ms. Hutton.” “Landry. Please.” “Landry. A pleasure.” Landry kept the contact brief. “Sorry, my hands are rough.” She turned them palms up. “Hazards of the job.” Why had she said that? What did it matter if her hands were a bit on the crispy side? She didn’t have to prove anything to this man. Embarrassment crept across her and burst through her pores, heating her neck and face, and now she had no idea what to do with her hands. Should she put them down? Tuck them behind her back? Callum glanced at her hands and turned his own up. “Same here.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “It’s to my eternal despair that I’ll never land that hand modeling contract I’ve always hoped for.” His easy humor made it automatic to tease him back. “Well, there’s always ditch digging.” “Good point. If this construction gig doesn’t work out, I’ll have something to fall back on.” Callum turned his attention to Eliza. “And I gather your name is Eliza?” She giggled with the abandon unique to happy children. “That’s right, but sometimes Mommy calls me Liza or ZaZa, but never Lizzy because that’s too close to Landry, and it gets confusing.” Landry tried to keep a straight face as Eliza parroted what she’d heard Landry say too many times to count. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Eliza.” Callum pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m Cal Shaw. I’ll answer to Callum, but not LumLum because”— he dropped his voice to a stage whisper—“that’s just not dignified.” Eliza’s laughter filled the room. Bronwyn hadn’t been wrong about Cal Shaw. He was very good with children. Even now, he kept his attention on Eliza. “Are you good here with Maisy while your mom and I talk?” “Yes, sir.” Cal grabbed a legal pad and pen from his desk and took the chair opposite the one he directed Landry to sit in. From their seats, they could both see Eliza and Maisy. She waited for him to start the conversation, but maybe she was supposed to go first? “She’s a beau—” “Land—” They both stopped talking, and his smile seemed genuine as he nodded to her. “Please. Go ahead.” “I was going to say your dog is beautiful.” She willed her body to stop flushing scarlet, but it refused to cooperate. She didn’t have to see herself to know that her face, neck, chest, and even her feet were on fire. This was why she did best behind the walls of The Haven. She could interact with the patrons there with minimal difficulty. But put her out in public, and she became a tongue-tied, socially inept disaster. Cal’s grin held mischief, and he leaned toward her. “If all goes as planned, she’ll be pregnant soon. I bet Eliza would love a puppy for Christmas.” His voice was cajoling and teasing, but at least he had the good sense to keep it too low for Eliza to hear. He winked in a way that was friendly and not flirtatious, and Landry understood why Bronwyn liked him so much. He leaned back and in a normal voice said, “I gathered from your conversation with Carla that you’re going to build nearby.” “Yes. I have three acres on the edge of Pierce land.” She watched him carefully as she spoke and was unsurprised when his grip tightened on the pen at her words. “How long have you lived in Gossamer Falls?” “Long enough to know the Pierce and Quinn families don’t get along.” *** Excerpt from Never Fall Again by Lynn H Blackburn. Copyright 2024 by Lynn H Blackburn. Reproduced with permission from Lynn H Blackburn. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Lynn H. Blackburn:

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Lynn H Blackburn

Lynn H. Blackburn is the award-winning author of Unknown Threat, Malicious Intent, and Under Fire, as well as the Dive Team Investigations series. She loves writing swoon-worthy Southern suspense because her childhood fantasy was to become a spy, but her grown-up reality is that she’s a huge chicken and would have been caught on her first mission. She prefers to live vicariously through her characters by putting them into terrifying situations while she sits at home in her pajamas. She lives in Simpsonville, South Carolina, with her true love, Brian, and their three children.

Catch Up With Our Author: www.LynnHBlackburn.com Goodreads BookBub – @LynnHBlackburn Instagram – @lynnhblackburn Twitter/X – @LynnHBlackburn Facebook – @LynnHBlackburn

 

 

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Join us for this tour from Feb 27 to Mar 18, 2024!

Book Details:
Book Title:  Keeping Janie

Southport Series, Book 2

 by S.R. Fabrico

Category:  Adult Fiction (18+),  320 pages
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publisher:  S.R. Fabrico
Release date:  Feb, 2024
Content Rating:  PG-13+M for a few sex scenes, some bad language and a murder.

Book Description:

Embark on an exhilarating reunion with Lizzie Levine, Southport, North Carolina’s newest resident, who first graced our hearts in the award-winning novel Call Her Janie. In this eagerly awaited sequel by S.R. Fabrico, the stakes are higher, the twists more exhilarating, and the drama more enthralling.

Reuniting with her daughter, Janie, should be the start of Lizzie’s picture-perfect life. Behind the scenes, however, is a different matter. The happiness of having her daughter back is overshadowed by the fear ad distrust of her ex-boyfriend, billionaire Gray Stone.

Amidst the tapestry of wedding preparations, the custody fight looms. The story unfolds in a battleground of secrets, lies, and deception. In this gripping narrative, love and lies entwine, danger lurks in the shadows, and the courage to confront one’s past becomes paramount. Can Lizzie gain custody of her daughter, marry the man she loves, and have her happily-ever-after, or will the mistakes of their past destroy them all?

Buy the Book:
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MY REVIEW

I knew going into this that it was the second in the series. That said, I had no trouble picking up on past events. The author smoothly filled in those for me and I was able to get the gist of things.

I’m big on suspense and there was plenty of that. And I do enjoy some romance. There was some of that too. Josh and Lizzie were so good for each other. And Janie. She was exceptionally shown to me. All three of these characters felt genuine and getting each of their POVs made that even better.

This was what a call an emotional roller coaster of a read. There’s a whole lot to feel and that kept me turning the pages. Read this in two sittings and felt it all.

I plan to go back and read the first book and prepare myself for the third one. This one had a whopper of an ending.

4 STARS

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Meet Author S.R. Fabrico:

S.R. Fabrico is an award-winning author whose literary talents have captivated readers worldwide. With her debut novel, The Secrets We Conceal, and her second novel, Call Her Janie, she has emerged as a rising star in the literary realm.

With a remarkable 25-plus-year career in business, marketing, and sports, S.R. Fabrico brings a unique perspective to her writing. As a World Champion Dance Coach and esteemed speaker, she infuses her stories with passion and insight.

Residing in Tennessee with her husband and children, S.R. Fabrico continues to create captivating narratives that will transport you to new and extraordinary worlds. Prepare to be enchanted by her exceptional storytelling prowess.

In addition to her passion for writing novels, she has published a series of sports journals and a journal for women. She believes that journaling is good for the soul.

connect with the author:
website ~ newsletter ~ twitter facebook ~ instagram ~ goodreads


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Fiona’s Fury

by Roxy Blue

 

Publication date: March 12th 2024
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

This chilling but hysterically sardonic thrill-ride is hard to put down. Smart, sexy, and deeply revelatory, it will send you on an enthralling emotional journey you won’t forget.

Fiona Turner, CEO of Fiona’s Flowers floral shop, hasn’t the time nor inclination to bother with men until she finally meets the face on the other end of the phone. Having remained friends, she never suspected her ex-husband, Quade, would morph into a terrifying, controlling, law-bending monster. When Fiona exhibits the first signs of wanting to move on in life, he threatens to take everything from her. A long weekend at a conference answers all of Fiona’s questions about floral supplier, Bo Thompson, except how she can possibly have him. She’ll never know what she’s missing unless she risks everything for love.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

By the time I was released from this afternoon’s harrowing therapy session, I felt so bedraggled
that I almost forgot about my looming phone date with the master of orchids. There’s something
about Bo’s down-home personality that calms me to no end, and I can hardly contain a slight,
crooked smile as I dial the all-hours order line he gave me.
“Big Bo here,” he answers in his deep, husky voice.
“Fiona Turner here,” I respond with a hint of tease.
“Well…hello there Fiona Turner. I was about startin to wonder when my favorite midwestern gal
was gonna call me up for some orchid action this spring.”
I don’t realize that I’m giggling like a schoolgirl, until I happen to wheel my chair around and
catch a glimpse of my grinning reflection in the ornately framed mirror hanging above my
grandmother’s turn-of-the-century English bureau.
“I guess I just couldn’t resist any longer.” No sooner than the words leave my lips, I hear the
thunderous rumble of Bo’s bassey chuckle welling up on the other end of the line.
“Rumor has it I’m pretty hard to resist,” he grinds out in his best bedroom voice, which may be
the very best there is. Anywhere.
I’m a busy woman, too busy according to everyone I know, and I really have no time for this
ridiculous song and dance every time I order from Bo. But then, I don’t do it often…and it
humors me at some primal level of simmering womanhood I haven’t felt in decades. Well,
barring those few weekends I spent with The Beast. But that doesn’t count…in the eyes of the
Lord.
“So,” I clear my throat in an attempt to redirect our conversation toward productivity, “what have
you got for me this time?” Did I just say something suggestive, again?
“Well now, lemme tell you all about that. I have got the biggest…most impressive…most
gigantic…most unbelievable…blossom selection I’ve ever had to date.”
I’m almost doubled over in hysterics as Bo continues. “I mean I’ve got more different colors of
everything than you can shake a stick at this year. Whatta you want darlin? Anything you want,
I’ve got it for you. Right here right now.”
I notice that I’m fixating on a vision of what Bo might look like. I truly believe I’ve never met any
human being like him in my life, and it’s impossible not to wonder.
“For now, I’ll take ten flats of the purple orchids and twenty flats of the white,” I reply, once I
manage to reinstate minimal composure.
“Aw, this time of year…those’ll sell out in no time.”
“You’re probably right, but if they do…I’ll just have to call you up and order some more.”
I know I’m flirting now, against my better judgment, but I don’t see any other way out of this
situation. And anyway, what harm could it do with a guy I’ve never met and never will?

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About Author Roxy Blue:

Raised in the South and transplanted to a midwestern New Age community, Roxy Blue writes about the types of down-to-earth characters that dispel the notion of romance being rubbish. After thirteen years as an exotic dancer, she developed a rare autoimmune arthritis that gave her an excuse to settle down and focus more on writing, although she still hoopdances and hikes on the good days. Roxy lives in Asheville, NC with the kind of hunk she likes to read about, and their two ridiculous cats.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook

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