D.E. Haggerty's Blog, page 35
August 30, 2017
Read an excerpt of Water Proof, #action #adventure #romance from @leeducote
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Title: Water Proof
Author: Lee DuCote
Genre: Action and Adventure / Romance
Published: 9/3/2015
~ Blurb ~
What happens when a Voodoo woman named Labriox Papillon spills her secrets to a young boy who is trying to capture treasure and his childhood crush? Adventure, South Louisiana legends, and love!
In Waterproof, Spencer LeJeune, a nerdy kid that grew up to a young attractive man, puts it all on the line to find the Spanish Treasure Barge and win over Toni Benoit’s heart. What starts off to be a reunited friendship turns into a suspenseful hunt for treasure and to outwit a fifth generation pirate from Spain.
Will Spencer win the heart of Toni and find the treasure before it costs him the lives of others and millions in silver and other treasures? Can Toni tame the treasure loving man and keep his focus?
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~ Excerpt ~
Chapter 8
Remnants of the crawfish boil from the night before littered the dock as Spencer pulled his equipment to his boat. Most of the shrimp boats had already left the docks to get an early run before the heat set in.
Spencer had been thinking about seeing Toni at the park and was questioning whether he wanted to stop by the clinic. He walked back to his truck to gather his side-scan sonar and laptop that was neatly tucked away in a waterproof case.
Lugging the equipment back, Dusty stopped washing his boat and called out to Spencer. He’d been cleaning the grease that had accumulated on the floor from his repairs. “That’s some sophisticated equipment for checking oyster beds?” His cigar was hanging out of his mouth.
Spencer smiled. “Hard to believe that you haven’t blown yourself up with that stogy around all these fumes,” he replied.
Dusty just laughed. “Where you heading today?”
“I’m running over to Hackberry Bay.”
“Hackberry, in area 13? Is that going to be open this year?”
“I don’t know—I just do the reports,” Spencer smiled.
Dusty had good reason to ask; the area had been closed to oyster fishing due to the oil spill in 2010. As the third generation of his family to fish the Barataria area, he had survived many storms including Katrina, and nothing was pushing him out.
“What’s the dive gear for?” he asked Spencer with a curious look.
“Oyster bed research and recreation, but mostly for oyster beds.”
Dusty shook his head in acknowledgment. “You going to the clinic to see that girl today?” he asked.
It threw Spencer that Dusty would know she asked him to stop by. He shrugged. “I’ve got a long day today.”
“So?” Dusty asked.
“Why would you think I would be interested in her?” Spencer asked, wondering if he was overstepping polite conversation.
“Shoot! As a little boy you chased that girl all over the docks and streets.”
Smiling, Spencer replied, “Well, that was a long time ago.”
“Huh!” Dusty grunted out a sly smile. “You mentioned her four or five times at the crawfish boil last night. But it’s none of my business. Be safe out there.” He turned to walk back to his boat. Spencer did the same.
Did I mention her too much last night? I did have a few more beers than normal. I hope I didn’t say too much. Standing there holding his duffel bag, he wondered, Did I mention the treasure?
As Spencer fired up his boat, he thought about how many times he and his dad had left the very same dock, and that thought stirred his childhood memories of returning in the evening. Dusk was Spencer’s favorite time, when the water would glow with the lights from other boats and oil derricks scattered throughout the basin. He spun his hat around and throttled down toward a northern bay called Adams, the four Yamaha 350s barely sounding strained as he jetted across the choppy water.
Spencer slowed his speed just as he entered Adams Bay and let the boat drift to a stop. With the sun beaming down, he took off his hat long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head.
To look at him now, you’d never know he used to be a scrawny kid. With a new city and a determination to never be picked on again, Spencer discovered a love of fitness in his late teens. He was well toned and had earned a defined six-pack while swimming and working out. He had even taken up surfing while on the East Coast and spent many days on the beach, drawing attention from quite a few girls. Still an awkward kid at heart, he ignored them for the most part.
In the heat of the afternoon, he made several passes along the shore, dragging the towfish and concentrating on the computer screen as the sonar took three-dimensional pictures of the bay floor. As he made his seventh pass, the sonar picked up on an object that was out of place. Could that be it? Is this what I’m looking for? He took a snapshot of the picture and turned the 42’ around to make another pass. Looking closer, he could see a square object extruding from the mud, no deeper than fifteen feet.
Spencer pulled out his scuba gear and snapped a bottle to the back of his buoyancy compensator. Blowing up the BC with air, he threw it over the side, picked up his fins and mask, and dove in after it. Once he strapped himself in, he released the air from the BC and kicked toward the structure that his sonar had uncovered.
Within minutes, the wooden structure came into view. It was long and square, sinking farther into the bay floor. Spencer grabbed on the end and pulled himself closer to the wood, his heart pounding and his breathing rapid. He fanned the soot from the wooden object and saw it was intact, but then he saw something small and shiny. The object was round and silver and pressed against one of the wood planks. Pulling himself closer, he saw that it was a screw. He had found a victim from Katrina—someone’s sunken pier.
He shot back to the surface, and breaking the water line, he pulled his mask down to his neck. “Well, hell!” Floating behind his boat for a moment, thinking that there would probably be many false alarms, he ran his finger and thumb together, realizing the water seemed slimier than when he was a kid.
Then he heard the faint sound of an outboard motor. That wasn’t unusual at all, but the longer he listened, he noticed the motor had a particular tick in the engine. Where have I heard that before? he thought.
Growing up around water and all types of boats, Spencer had learned to recognize boats by the sound of the engines. This motor had a familiar sound to it that he hadn’t heard since his childhood … the same sound made by Lebreaux’s motor on her old wooden skiff. As his mind registered the connection, his eyes widened and he spun in the water looking in all directions, but no boat was in sight.
He wrapped his fins around his wrist, climbed up the ladder on the back of his boat, and let his gear rest on the floor while he wiped the water from his face and hair, still looking for the boat, but finding nothing.
His dark skin shone with the water beading off, thanks to the sunscreen he had applied earlier. Putting his aviator sunglasses on, he saw a white crane flapping its wings in the water. That’s strange, he thought, and motoring closer, he could see the bird was in distress in only a foot of water. His boat resting gently on the bottom, he leaned over and grabbed the bird that was weak and out of breath.
“Well, buddy, with this broken leg you don’t have much chance.” With a smile, he looked around, and then back to the bird. “I guess we’re going to the veterinary clinic after all.”
~ About the Author ~
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Lee DuCote has traveled the world researching cultures, people, and historical accounts to help create his stories. A native to Louisiana, he writes to give hope and encouragement to others, as well as to entertain and spark the imagination. Lee lives in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas with his wife and family and is the author of seven novels including Camp 80 that earned him an international book award.
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Bragging on book covers – Yea or Nay? #WriterWednesday #AuthorMarketing
There are basically two ways to ‘brag’ on a book cover: advertise your status as a bestselling author or include a review blurb. Many, many (times a gazillion or so) experts will tell you this is an awesome marketing tool. I think I’ve proven on more occasions than I’d like to admit that I’m no expert. What I am is a voracious reader. I’m also a reader who is constantly looking for new authors to read. Yes, constantly. I average a book a day, and I’m usually reading several at once. And because I’m a bit of a book freak (duh!), I’m constantly analyzing why I chose to try a new author or a certain book. Book covers have a lot to do with that because we all know that ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ actually refers to humans and not real books. Let’s proceed, shall we?
Bestseller status
I’m going to be totally honest here. The term ‘bestseller’ has lost its glamour in recent years. A bestseller is not a book that made it to the top 100 list on Amazon for a given day. Wouldn’t that be awesome if it were? We’d all be bestsellers. Oh wait! Then, the term would mean absolutely nothing. Here is the definition of bestseller from Wikipedia:
A bestseller is a book that is included on a list of top-selling or frequently-borrowed titles, normally based on publishing industry and book trade figures and library circulation statistics; such lists may be published by newspapers, magazines, or book store chains… Well-known bestseller lists in the U.S. are published by Publishers Weekly, USA Today, New York Times and the Washington Post.
If you meet this definition, you can brag about it on your book cover. Like this awesome author (full disclosure: I just picked the first cover, which had a bestseller status, from Amazon’s top 100 romance ebooks):
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Personally, I’m not a huge fan of this type of bragging. Just because a whole bunch of other people liked your book doesn’t mean I will. I’m a unique individual! That said, I have no issues with the above. It looks classy. It’s honest and discreet. I’m more confused about this type of cover:
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“Bestselling romance author” – who says? It just sends out all kinds of questions for me. Personally, I would hesitate to buy a book with this ‘bragging’ on the cover. (Please keep in mind that as a former lawyer and cop, I’m a stickler for rules even though I LOVE to break them. Some would say that’s the definition of crazy).
Review Blurb
I’m referring here to the phrase or sentence from a reviewer placed prominently on the front cover. Here’s the perfect example:
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Why is this a perfect example? For starters, it’s short. It’s also placed in a manner, which doesn’t detract from the cover picture. But the most important part is the person who made the comment. In this case, Sylvia Day. You don’t have to like Ms. Day’s books, but if you’re a romance reader (and this book is in the romance genre), you know who she is.
Again, I’m not a huge fan of the review blurb. I don’t want anyone telling me what to do and that includes what book I should read. But that’s a personal choice. The above example works, however, and for the most part that’s down to the person writing the blurb. It’s a different story when the review blurb comes from an unknown source. It’s great that you managed to find a blogger who was willing to read your book and write a review before release. But if the blogger is unknown within the reading community, putting the review blurb on the cover just looks desperate to me.
Wrap-Up
What should you take away from this blog article – besides the fact that I have a strange aversion to extraneous information on book covers? It’s simple, really. First: if you aren’t a bestseller, don’t exaggerate the truth and say you are. Second: if your review blurb is from an unknown source, don’t use it on the cover. I’ll talk about the ways in which review blurbs can be used to market your books in a later blog.
Feel free to comment and tell me I have no clue what I’m talking about or that I’m just plain crazy.
August 29, 2017
Read an excerpt of Pigeon-Blood Red, a #mystery #thriller from Ed Duncan @pigeonbloodred
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Title: Pigeon-Blood Red
Author: Ed Duncan
Genre: Mystery, Thriller
Published: August 23, 2016
~ Blurb ~
For underworld enforcer Richard “Rico” Sanders, it seemed like an ordinary job. Retrieve his gangster boss’s priceless pigeon-blood red ruby necklace and teach the double-dealing cheat who stole it a lesson. A job like a hundred before it. But the chase quickly goes sideways and takes Rico from the mean streets of Chicago to sunny Honolulu, where the hardened hit man finds himself in uncharted territory when a couple of innocent bystanders are accidentally embroiled in the crime.
As Rico pursues his new targets, the hunter and his prey develop an unlikely respect for one another and Rico is faced with a momentous decision: follow his orders to kill the couple whose courage and character have won his admiration, or refuse and endanger the life of the woman he loves?
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Praise for Pigeon-Blood Red
“In a novel with as much action as love, it is sure to be a story that will fulfill the desires of readers of all ages, genders, and areas of interest.” – 4 Stars, Red City Review
“Pigeon Blood Red at 238 pages, is not particularly long as books go, but Duncan packs a lot of story into those pages. Readers in search of a tight, well written, good guy versus bad guy, crime/action/adventure will find Pigeon Blood Red by Ed E. Duncan, an engrossing story that will keep them involved to the end. And like me, they will find themselves eagerly awaiting the next installment.” – Mike Siedschlag
“This charming, classically-told crime thriller is a must for noir fans…refreshingly old-school pulp, inhabited by a familiar cast of gamblers, con men and hustlers found in Dennis Lehane and Elmore Leonard novels” – 5 Stars, Best Thrillers
~ Excerpt ~
Robert sat back and felt something lodged in the crack between the cushions. He reached behind him and pulled it out. It was the pouch Litvak had entrusted to Rico. He slowly removed its contents. The snippets of conversation he’d heard now made sense. Litvak had removed this from his safe. It looked expensive. But how valuable was it? He looked up. Rico was heading back to the car. He returned the necklace to the pouch and slipped it into his sock.
When Rico opened the door, Jerry was still laughing. “You told him?” Rico asked.
Jerry cleared his throat and managed to restrain his laughter. “He said it sounded sick to him.”
“Nobody’s ever said that before,” Rico said.
His tone was a little too serious for Robert. He quickly explained, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Life’s too short,” Rico said. “She has a nice body, doesn’t she?”
“I guess so,” Robert said.
“You guess?” Jerry said.
“Then, yes,” Robert said.
“She works hard to keep it that way,” Rico said. “No reason to hide it.” He turned to look at Robert. “Right?”
“No. No reason.”
Rico turned back around and gave Jerry a wink. “Glad we straightened that out.”
Robert was glad Rico was facing forward again. He couldn’t concentrate with Rico looking at him. His mind raced. Was he being a complete idiot to even consider what he was contemplating? He knew he couldn’t come up with the money he owed Litvak in two short weeks. He didn’t want to think about what Litvak would do then. But he knew what Litvak would do if he actually stole the necklace.
Then there was the whole idea of taking something that didn’t belong to him. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a thief—yet. But was he really a thief if he stole from an unsavory character like Litvak, a loan shark and probably worse? He convinced himself that he was not.
Still, it was a gamble. But he was a gambler.
He had time to pack and make it to the airport. If Evelyn’s plane wasn’t full…How long would he be gone? He had no idea. Nor any idea what he would do with the contents of the pouch. But now wasn’t the time to worry about it. He’d have time to think after the plane took off—assuming Rico and Jerry didn’t kill him before he got to the airport. Until now he hadn’t entertained that possibility, but suddenly he could focus on nothing else.
He stared at the bulge in his sock. It wasn’t too late to put it back where he’d found it. They’d never know. He perspired heavily. The resolve he’d felt an instant earlier had melted away, and in its place was indecision rapidly morphing into panic. He froze and as he did, the car stopped in front of the racetrack. He didn’t move.
“Get out of the car,” Jerry said without looking back. Still Robert didn’t budge. Jerry and Rico both turned around and stared at him. “Hey, you going deaf or something?” Jerry asked. “Get out of the car already.”
The decision had been made for him. They looked right at him, close enough to touch him. He couldn’t return the necklace now even if he wanted to. He could explain finding it in the back seat, but he couldn’t explain how it got in his sock.
“I’m sorry,” Robert said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He got out of the car and stood transfixed at it as it sped away. Robotically, he drove home and made his way to his apartment, locked the door behind him, and sank to the floor in a sitting position, his legs stretched outward and his back against the door. Staring at the ceiling like it wasn’t there and clutching his chest with both hands, he inhaled deeply and tried in vain to slow the pace of his galloping heart.
~ About the Author ~
Ed Duncan is a graduate of Oberlin College and Northwestern University Law School. He was a partner at a national law firm in Cleveland, Ohio for many years. He currently lives outside of Cleveland, OH and is at work on the second installment in the Pigeon-Blood Red trilogy. To learn more, go to http://eduncan.net/
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August 28, 2017
Read an excerpt of the #mystery The Lyons Orphanage from Charlie King
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Title: The Lyons Orphanage
Series: The Lyons Series
Author: Charlie King
Genre: Mystery
Published: 8th March 2017
~ Blurb ~
Sam Watkins, an orphaned young teenager, possesses the ability to read the minds of almost everyone he meets. Howard Lyons, the owner of the orphanage where Sam has lived since he was a baby, has been reluctant to let Sam leave the orphanage. Unable to read the mind of Mr Lyons, he takes it upon himself to investigate the reasons behind the owner’s decisions and learn more about the origin of his ability, his parents and the potential of his power. However, Sam’s investigation and mind-reading abilities reveal a power struggle at the top of a faltering orphanage between Mr. Lyons and his assistant Natalie. Sam’s involvement in this conflict leads him to look for ways to save the orphanage and uncover the true motivations of both the owner and his assistant while trying to learn about his past.
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~ Excerpt ~
“Thank you Mr Lyons for being so honest with me, when I do go to a new home, there will always be a tinge of sadness about leaving you, Natalie and the books behind,” I said.
“While we’re being honest Sam, I should let you know that you shouldn’t hold Natalie in the highest regard,” said Mr Lyons.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You’ve seen her around recently, you’ve seen the stress and anger in her face,” replied Mr Lyons. “I shouldn’t really be telling you this but we both trust each other, right?” he asked.
“Of course,” I responded.
“For the past year, Natalie has been trying to oust me from my position so that she can take charge of the orphanage,” said Mr Lyons.
“I don’t understand why she would do that, you two have worked tirelessly over the years for the orphanage,” I said.
“We have but recently Natalie seems to have convinced herself that she has the only right way to do things, she can’t wait to undermine me at every opportunity and tell me how my decisions are ruining the orphanage,” said Mr Lyons.
“That doesn’t sound like Natalie,” I said.
“She didn’t use to be like this but I think with all the work she has put in, she is seeking fame for running such a charitable cause, she feels she should be rewarded with some sort of celebrity status,” said Mr Lyons. “The only ego-driven decision I made was to have lion-head knockers on the front doors to represent me, even though my surname isn’t spelt the same.”
“But you’re the one who funds the orphanage, how does she expect to keep it running?” I asked.
“She wants to cut corners everywhere to save money, I know that she saved up well from her previous job so she can just do enough to fund this place but if you thought I had to make sacrifices with the building and quality of food, you don’t want to see what she’d do to the orphanage,” said Mr Lyons. I couldn’t believe that Natalie would have these intentions so I was intent on finding out the truth myself so that next time I saw her, I’d read her mind to know exactly what she was thinking. It is supported by the fact that reading Natalie’s mind earlier had shown me she was angry and that apparently Mr Lyons was the idiot Natalie was referring to.
“Are you sure she’s not just saying these things out of stress?” I asked Mr Lyons.
“I wish it was because then I’d understand it but that stress over the years has manifested itself in her recently to a nasty, continuous campaign of hate against me,” said Mr Lyons. “Under stress, she has turned to alcohol which is why, if you saw her this morning, she looks tired and lacks energy.”
“In that case, I don’t understand why she’s still here,” I said.
“It’s not so easy to replace her, despite all this, Natalie is still committed to working here and finding a new assistant would be a struggle for me right now,” said Mr Lyons. “Natalie is killing herself and her relationship with me but for now, I need her to keep up the hard work while I search for a suitable replacement.”
“She wouldn’t leave though, you said it yourself, she’s after your job,” I said.
“Don’t you worry about me, I’m keeping in control of everything, just let me know if you ever see anything suspicious from Natalie,” said Mr Lyons. “That’s why I’ve told you this, I trust you to use this information wisely and help you to distance yourself from Natalie so the final goodbye is far less emotional.”
“Okay, thank you sir,” I said.
“I’m glad we have had this chat, make sure it stays just between us,” said Mr Lyons. I nodded towards him and headed out the room.
~ About the author ~
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My name is Charlie King. I am a newly self-published author from Croydon, England having just published my first book, The Lyons Orphanage, and I intend to write more including a sequel.
I have had an interest in English and writing ever since I was young and it has stuck with me throughout my education. I have a BA Hons in Journalism with English Language from the University of Portsmouth. When I finished university, I found that Journalism was no longer for me but I still loved to write so instead I tried to find a non-Journalism related writing job. When that didn’t happen, I went through a stressful job in retail before working where I am now in an administrative role in a law firm.
Being content with my job, I found myself motivated to write a book. It had crossed my mind many times over the years; I even tried to write a book a long time ago around the age of ten/eleven but it was terrible and lucky not seen by any eyes other than my own. The thought of that book put me off from thinking I could write a decent book. However, now I am happy to say that I’m pleased with my debut novel. I was surprised of how the ideas flowed into my mind as I was writing it and it was the same for planning the plot of the sequel.
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Biking in Holland continued … biking when injured #Expatliving #ThisIsHolland #MondayBlogs
At the risk of stating the obvious, the Netherlands is a biking country. There are, in fact, more bikes in certain cities than residents. Bikes are everywhere – including in canals.
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The Dutch bike wherever, whenever. They bike with crates of beer. They bike with children perched on their bike racks. They bike with bags of groceries balanced precariously on their handlebars. They bike in the rain. They bike in the wind (it can be seriously windy here). They bike when drunk. They bike when injured.
That last one nearly caused my demise – or at the very least a (more) serious injury. It’s like this. I’m always trying to prove that I’m not only a European but a Dutchie. So, after I injured my ankle and was reduced to one crutch after two weeks of being housebound, I decided I could ride my bike to my pedicure appointment. Considering my inability to wear closed shoes due to a swollen ankle and foot, I really, really needed to get to that pedicure appointment!
My hubby – being a native Dutchie – gave me some advice on how to secure my crutch (I should have probably listened to his advice) and off I went. It didn’t take me long to realize that I’m a complete idiot. Still, I nearly made it to the salon before I ran into some scaffolding, get stuck, and caused a little girl to fall and start crying. At least my toenails looked awesome as I slunk home in embarrassment.
Fast forward two weeks and I’m off the crutch. Yes! Naturally, this means I can totally bike. Off I went again. Everything was going fine until I hit a stoplight. Stopping went okay. Slight jarring pain but I wasn’t gritting my teeth in pain so all’s well. Until I tried to start biking again. My injured leg was too weak for me to get my bike going. I hopped and rolled until I managed to get enough momentum to get going.
I can learn from my mistakes. So, at the next stop light, I decided to put my bad foot down so that I could start biking with my uninjured leg. Of course, I forgot that meant I needed to put all my weight on my injured side. I only leaned into another biker. Really, I didn’t cause her to fall over or anything.
I managed to make it to my appointment without hitting any more red lights. That went well so I decided I just wasn’t going to stop for red lights on my bike home. Unfortunately, lights turn red for a reason – like a tram coming across the road. I thought I could balance my bike without moving and without putting a foot down. I couldn’t. Luckily, there was no one on the sidewalk as I wobbled onto it.
The rest of the ride home I just ran through the lights yelling at whoever that I was only trying to integrate. I found myself hilarious. That may have had something to do with the three glasses of wine I drank. For some reason, the hubby was extremely relieved when I messaged to tell him I’d made it home safe and sound.
August 27, 2017
Read an excerpt of the #crimethriller Dead Cold from @jchasenovelist
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Title: Dead Cold
Author: Jennifer Chase
Genre: Crime Thriller
Published: July 2, 2017
~ Blurb ~
Every Emily Stone Thriller is a stand-along novel.
From the multi-award winning series:
What happens when one California community has a disturbing spike in homicides? It catapults cops into a deadly game of murder. Frozen human body parts hideously displayed at the crime scenes offers a horrifying interpretation that only a sadistic serial killer could design—and execute.
On the hunt for a complex serial killer, vigilante detective Emily Stone must face her most daring case yet. Stone’s proven top-notch profiling skills and forensic expertise may not be enough this time.
Young and ambitious, Detective Danny Starr, catches the homicide cases and discovers that it will test everything he knows about police work and the criminal mind. Can he handle these escalating cases or will the police department have to call in reinforcements—the FBI.
Emily Stone’s covert team pushes with extreme urgency to unravel the grisly clues, while keeping their identities hidden from the police. With one last-ditch effort, Stone dangles someone she loves as bait to draw out the killer. She then forces the killer out of their comfort zone with her partner Rick Lopez, and with help from a longtime friend Jordan Smith. A revelation of the serial killer’s identity leaves the team with volatile emotions that could destroy them.
The killer continues to taunt and expertly manipulate the police, as well as Stone’s team, and as they run out of time—they leave behind everyone and everything—in Dead Cold.
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~ Excerpt ~
PROLOGUE
ESCAPE WAS IMPOSSIBLE. TEARS STREAMED down her face as she sat in the darkness and waited for the man to return. There was no other choice—but to wait.
She hadn’t eaten anything in three days and had only a limited amount of water—her strength continued to fade with every hour. With her wrists and ankles secured with duct tape, her skin stung with pain every time she struggled to move. At least the man had peeled the tape from her eyes and mouth so that she could see something besides pitch-blackness.
Even if she could escape, the only way to safety was jumping into the frigid water, but she could not swim and would drown before ever reaching the shore.
The only thing thirteen-year-old Kayla Swanson thought about was home. Fond memories flashed through her mind of her parents, her little brother, and her dog Charlie. She was never going to see them again. Their smiling faces were forever etched in Kayla’s mind, and she constantly held them close to her heart.
The boat rocked, and seemed to sway more violently as the tide flooded in and out of the harbor. Kayla could hear a consistent clanking noise above her as the boat rolled back and forth. The sound had a hypnotic quality, and kept her mind on something else besides when the man would return and what he would do next.
Her lips were dry and cracked as she bordered on dehydration. Even her tears dried on her cheeks, leaving her skin stiff and drawn. Her body began to shake, not only from fear, but also because of the extreme exhaustion and the constant dampness all around her.
The boat rocked more, but this time it shifted from the opposite sides. Kayla heard soft footsteps above, which she knew wasn’t her captor’s heavy walk. She strained her eyes in the darkness and thought she saw a thin shadow stealthily move along the upper deck.
W as it a ghost?
Kayla remembered a television series where a team of people hunted ghosts and they had said that ghosts could occupy any type of space, house, property, and even a boat.
She blinked her eyes several times and hoped that she could catch a glimpse of the ghost again. With every ounce of declining strength, Kayla scooted her body closer to the narrow stairs leading to the upper deck.
Painfully craning her neck, she strained to see something up in the darkness.
The dark shadowed areas played tricks on her eyes—it was there, then it wasn’t.
She waited for several minutes. Nothing appeared.
The only sounds she heard were the usual boat noises she had grown accustomed to hearing. Whatever she thought she heard was gone now. It was most likely her imagination trying to give her some hope and a few moments break from her dire circumstances.
As she relaxed her shoulders and leaned back against the wall, the reality of her world pressing down hard. Tears streamed down her face. She tasted the saltiness that settled around her mouth. Her last moments were approaching, and there was nothing she could do.
Kayla felt her pulse relax and a strange peacefulness overcame her—even if it was for only a moment. It was an overwhelming calm that gave her strength for what was next.
He was coming back.
She closed her eyes, but the only thing that came to mind was the man who had grabbed her. His dark eyes.
His hefty strength groping at her body. His horrible sour breath.
~ About the Author ~
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Jennifer Chase is a multi award-winning author and consulting criminologist. She has authored eight crime fiction novels, including the multiple award-winning Emily Stone thriller series along with a screenwriting workbook.
Jennifer holds a Bachelor degree in police forensics and a Master’s degree in criminology. These academic pursuits developed out of her curiosity about the criminal mind as well as from her own experience with a violent sociopath, providing Jennifer with deep personal investment in every story she tells. In addition, she holds certifications in serial crime and criminal profiling. She is an affiliate member of the International Association of Forensic Criminologists.
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August 24, 2017
Exciting new release #RockstarRomance Style by @Toni_Kenyon #Giveaway
NEW RELEASE
STYLE by Toni Kenyon
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What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas—unless it follows you home.
All Ashley Jacobs wants to do is forget about the Get Rocked! In Vegas Festival and get on with her life. Unfortunately, the one night she spent in the arms of
British band, Style Strike’s bad boy bass player, Paul Gray makes that simple wish impossible. She’s brought home more than memories. What should have been a fun fling before she settled into her orderly life has gone awry. To her horror, Ashley’s entire life is turned upside down when she discovers that she’s pregnant. She’s literally about to be left holding the baby.
Paul Gray’s never forgotten that night in Vegas with the woman who wanted nothing to do with a rock star. Style Strike’s US tour has gone from strength to strength and his social media star is on the rise. Paul finds himself surrounded by everything he’s worked so hard to achieve. His life is awash with women, fame and fortune—but all he can think about is the sensual woman who walked away from him that night in Vegas.
Knowing the tour’s about to hit her hometown, Ashley makes the sensible decision to contact Paul. He needs to be told about the baby, doesn’t he?
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~ About the Author ~
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Toni Kenyon lives in Auckland (New Zealand) with her husband (and their dog and cat) the goldfish is just squatting! She writes romance by day, sings in a band by night and in her spare (yeah, right) time she wrangles difficult heroes into line, so they can star in her next novel. Toni also loves the garden and has a special place in her heart for her fruit trees and her veggie patch. A keen amateur photographer, Toni posts “Mood of the Suburbs” shots across most of her social media profiles. She loves to hear from like-minded people, so pop on over and say ‘Hi’ any time.
Visit her website and sign up for her newsletter so you can stay informed about her new releases.
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Website ~ Newsletter sign-up ~ Facebook ~ Romance from the Red Couch ~ Twitter ~
~ Giveaway ~
$50.00 Amazon Gift Card
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http://wtmowordsturnmeon.blogspot.com/
https://www.facebook.com/TurnedOnByWords/
Spotlight on To Kill A Hummingbird, a Bird Love’s Mystery, from J.R. Ripley #cozymystery #giveaway
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Title: To Kill a Hummingbird
Series: A Bird Lover’s Mystery
Author: J.R. Ripley
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published: July 11, 2017
~ Synopsis ~
For Amy Simms, owner of Birds & Bees, nothing is more important than impressing her old professor, but this odd bird is about to fall to earth . . .
When her favorite ornithology professor comes calling, Birds & Bees owner Amy Simms hangs six hummingbird feeders around the shop to welcome Professor Livingston with a flock of his favorite flying creatures. But Amy soon finds that the sugar water in the feeders brings more than a swarm of hummingbirds. It also attracts murder.
Professor Livingston is just as friendly as Amy remembers, but something seems to be troubling him. When Amy pays him a visit that night, she finds the professor slumped over a table with a pair of scissors buried in his neck. And standing over his body is Rose Smith, the local bookseller, who claims she killed him. But while the police believe they have a bird in hand, Amy thinks the real killer may still be in the bush . . .
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Other Books in this Series
~ Praise for To Kill a Hummingbird ~
This book was good old fashioned amateur sleuth FUN! ~Laura’s Interests
Ripley created a series that won’t only delight cozy readers but will become one they eagerly await a release for. Birds, Books and Mystery set readers on chases through the charming setting in North Carolina. ~Bibliophile Reviews
~ About the Author ~
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J.R. Ripley is the pen name of Glenn Meganck, the critically acclaimed author of the Tony Kozol mystery series. As a member of the Mystery Writers of America, he has chaired the Edgar committee for Best Original Paperback novel and served on the Best Short Story Committee. As a member of the International Association of Crime Writers, he has served on the Hammett Award committee for Best Novel. When not writing books, Glenn is writing songs, often singing them to the consternation of his audience and neighbors, or involved in one of his many passions, none of which have involved any of the dead bodies that seem to keep cropping up in his mysteries. For more information about him, visit glennmeganck.com.
~ Giveaway ~
E-Copy To Kill a Hummingbird (A Bird Lover’s Mystery) by J.R. Ripley
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August 22, 2017
Read an excerpt of A Wanted Man, an exciting #crimethriller from @RobertRParker45
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Title: A WANTED MAN
Author: Robert Parker
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Pages: 307
Genre: Crime Thriller
It’s down to fathers and fatherhood.
Ben Bracken, ex-soldier, has just got out of Strangeways.
Not by the front door.
With him, he has his ‘insurance policy’ – a bag of evidence that will guarantee his freedom, provided he can keep it safe – and he has money, carefully looked after by a friend, Jack Brooker.
Rejected by the army, disowned by his father, and any hopes of parenthood long since shattered, Ben has no anchors in his life.
No one to keep him steady.
No one to stop his cause…
The plan: to wreak justice on the man who had put him in prison in the first place.
Terry ‘The Turn-Up’ Masters, a nasty piece of work, whose crime organisation is based in London.
But before Ben can get started on his mission, another matter is brought to his attention: Jack’s father has been murdered and he will not rest until the killers are found.
Suddenly, Ben finds himself drawn in to helping Jack in his quest for revenge.
In the process, he descends into the fold of Manchester’s most notorious crime organisation – the Berg – the very people he wants to bring down…
This action-packed and fast-paced story will keep you turning the pages. Manchester is vividly portrayed as Ben races around the city seeking vengeance.
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Amazon
Excerpt
It’s not long before I am there again. Haugh Road, right in the middle. Everything looks the same, right down to the chewing gum on the pavements. There’s the old off- licence, the pub I used to drink in. There’s the phone box I’d call my mates from, out the front of the house I called home for thirty years.
My heart feels a hot stab at seeing it, worse than I expected. Home.
It’s a terraced house that could do with some work. The lawn is a bit longer than Dad used to have it, by quite a bit, actually, and the PVC window frames we had put in on a government grant to promote greener living a few years ago are a bit mucky. The door is still painted red, with a brass knocker.
What are you doing here, Ben? Are you going to invite yourself in for a cuppa? Or stand out here like a stalker?
I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. But somehow, I needed to see it. I needed to see something concrete, to remind me where I came from… Christ, this fucking neediness… I don’t like it.
I feel abandoned by them, for sure, but they had their reasons. They were so proud, and suddenly all that pride was gone.
And now, with my visit this evening? I suppose I just need to know that, even though everything else is chaos, things back here at home remain the same. We wouldn’t even need to talk, just…
In fact, despite the curtains being open, it doesn’t look like they are home.
Wait. I can see in through the front window, despite the dwindling light. Something’s different: On the left-hand side, Grandma’s mirror is missing, the one passed down to Mum when she died. It had a gold frame – well, gold edging on top of tin – and it was Mum’s pride and joy. And the curtains that are open… there are no curtains. Looking closer I can see the tie-back hooks stand visible and empty.
I walk up the path, leaving prints in the long grass, and peer inside, and more and more of my past looms up in front of me the closer I get. But this nostalgia, and the stir of anticipation that has arisen despite my efforts to subdue it, is quickly replaced by something cold, something bitter.
The room is empty.
I can see through to the kitchen along the old carpet that runs right through the downstairs, which in the emptiness now looks more threadbare. There’s nothing.
They’ve gone. My parents have left here.
I stand simply staring into the hollow space, and feel as if I’m gazing into the very emptiness that has been abruptly carved inside of me. My feeling of loneliness is complete.
I have no way to contact them. They are gone, and from the look of things, gone for good. And considering that they never sent me a forwarding address while I was in prison, they clearly don’t want me to know where they are.
All I wanted was to see that they were ok, but as far as I can tell, they didn’t even want me to have that. They have disowned me. I should have guessed from their passive stares in the public gallery at my trial, fixing on any point but their own son’s searching gaze. I can’t help but stand and dwell.
I quickly decide that I’ve had enough. I walk away because there’s nothing for me here anymore, not for the first time. Rawmarsh is no longer my home. I feel I could cry, but I won’t. No chance – those bastards, they won’t get that from me.
I walk down the path to the scuffed, mucky pavement. The gum on the concrete beneath my shoes, some of it is undoubtedly mine. My DNA lies at my feet, inseparable from my town, my past. That DNA is now the only evidence I was ever here. Thirty years of love, life, family – all reduced to a dirty bit of gum on an old pavement.
This will steel me. Toughen me. It has to. Because this would, could, should break a lesser man.
About the Author
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Robert Parker is a new exciting voice, a married father of two, who lives in a village close to Manchester, UK. He has both a law degree and a degree in film and media production, and has worked in numerous employment positions, ranging from solicitor’s agent (essentially a courtroom gun for hire), to a van driver, to a warehouse order picker, to a commercial video director. He currently writes full time, while also making time to encourage new young readers and authors through readings and workshops at local schools and bookstores. In his spare time he adores pretty much all sport, boxing regularly for charity, loves fiction across all mediums, and his glass is always half full.
His latest book is the crime/thriller, A WANTED MAN.
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August 21, 2017
Read an excerpt of Water Proof #actionadventure #romance from @leeducote
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Title: Water Proof
Author: Lee DuCote
Genre: Action and Adventure / Romance
Published: 9/3/2015
~ Synopsis ~
What happens when a Voodoo woman named Labriox Papillon spills her secrets to a young boy who is trying to capture treasure and his childhood crush? Adventure, South Louisiana legends, and love!
In Waterproof, Spencer LeJeune, a nerdy kid that grew up to a young attractive man, puts it all on the line to find the Spanish Treasure Barge and win over Toni Benoit’s heart. What starts off to be a reunited friendship turns into a suspenseful hunt for treasure and to outwit a fifth generation pirate from Spain.
Will Spencer win the heart of Toni and find the treasure before it costs him the lives of others and millions in silver and other treasures? Can Toni tame the treasure loving man and keep his focus?
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~ Excerpt ~
Remnants of the crawfish boil from the night before littered the dock as Spencer pulled his equipment to his boat. Most of the shrimp boats had already left the docks to get an early run before the heat set in.
Spencer had been thinking about seeing Toni at the park and was questioning whether he wanted to stop by the clinic. He walked back to his truck to gather his side-scan sonar and laptop that was neatly tucked away in a waterproof case.
Lugging the equipment back, Dusty stopped washing his boat and called out to Spencer. He’d been cleaning the grease that had accumulated on the floor from his repairs. “That’s some sophisticated equipment for checking oyster beds?” His cigar was hanging out of his mouth.
Spencer smiled. “Hard to believe that you haven’t blown yourself up with that stogy around all these fumes,” he replied.
Dusty just laughed. “Where you heading today?”
“I’m running over to Hackberry Bay.”
“Hackberry, in area 13? Is that going to be open this year?”
“I don’t know—I just do the reports,” Spencer smiled.
Dusty had good reason to ask; the area had been closed to oyster fishing due to the oil spill in 2010. As the third generation of his family to fish the Barataria area, he had survived many storms including Katrina, and nothing was pushing him out.
“What’s the dive gear for?” he asked Spencer with a curious look.
“Oyster bed research and recreation, but mostly for oyster beds.”
Dusty shook his head in acknowledgment. “You going to the clinic to see that girl today?” he asked.
It threw Spencer that Dusty would know she asked him to stop by. He shrugged. “I’ve got a long day today.”
“So?” Dusty asked.
“Why would you think I would be interested in her?” Spencer asked, wondering if he was overstepping polite conversation.
“Shoot! As a little boy you chased that girl all over the docks and streets.”
Smiling, Spencer replied, “Well, that was a long time ago.”
“Huh!” Dusty grunted out a sly smile. “You mentioned her four or five times at the crawfish boil last night. But it’s none of my business. Be safe out there.” He turned to walk back to his boat. Spencer did the same.
Did I mention her too much last night? I did have a few more beers than normal. I hope I didn’t say too much. Standing there holding his duffel bag, he wondered, Did I mention the treasure?
As Spencer fired up his boat, he thought about how many times he and his dad had left the very same dock, and that thought stirred his childhood memories of returning in the evening. Dusk was Spencer’s favorite time, when the water would glow with the lights from other boats and oil derricks scattered throughout the basin. He spun his hat around and throttled down toward a northern bay called Adams, the four Yamaha 350s barely sounding strained as he jetted across the choppy water.
Spencer slowed his speed just as he entered Adams Bay and let the boat drift to a stop. With the sun beaming down, he took off his hat long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head.
To look at him now, you’d never know he used to be a scrawny kid. With a new city and a determination to never be picked on again, Spencer discovered a love of fitness in his late teens. He was well toned and had earned a defined six-pack while swimming and working out. He had even taken up surfing while on the East Coast and spent many days on the beach, drawing attention from quite a few girls. Still an awkward kid at heart, he ignored them for the most part.
In the heat of the afternoon, he made several passes along the shore, dragging the towfish and concentrating on the computer screen as the sonar took three-dimensional pictures of the bay floor. As he made his seventh pass, the sonar picked up on an object that was out of place. Could that be it? Is this what I’m looking for? He took a snapshot of the picture and turned the 42’ around to make another pass. Looking closer, he could see a square object extruding from the mud, no deeper than fifteen feet.
Spencer pulled out his scuba gear and snapped a bottle to the back of his buoyancy compensator. Blowing up the BC with air, he threw it over the side, picked up his fins and mask, and dove in after it. Once he strapped himself in, he released the air from the BC and kicked toward the structure that his sonar had uncovered.
Within minutes, the wooden structure came into view. It was long and square, sinking farther into the bay floor. Spencer grabbed on the end and pulled himself closer to the wood, his heart pounding and his breathing rapid. He fanned the soot from the wooden object and saw it was intact, but then he saw something small and shiny. The object was round and silver and pressed against one of the wood planks. Pulling himself closer, he saw that it was a screw. He had found a victim from Katrina—someone’s sunken pier.
He shot back to the surface, and breaking the water line, he pulled his mask down to his neck. “Well, hell!” Floating behind his boat for a moment, thinking that there would probably be many false alarms, he ran his finger and thumb together, realizing the water seemed slimier than when he was a kid.
Then he heard the faint sound of an outboard motor. That wasn’t unusual at all, but the longer he listened, he noticed the motor had a particular tick in the engine. Where have I heard that before? he thought.
Growing up around water and all types of boats, Spencer had learned to recognize boats by the sound of the engines. This motor had a familiar sound to it that he hadn’t heard since his childhood … the same sound made by Lebreaux’s motor on her old wooden skiff. As his mind registered the connection, his eyes widened and he spun in the water looking in all directions, but no boat was in sight.
He wrapped his fins around his wrist, climbed up the ladder on the back of his boat, and let his gear rest on the floor while he wiped the water from his face and hair, still looking for the boat, but finding nothing.
His dark skin shone with the water beading off, thanks to the sunscreen he had applied earlier. Putting his aviator sunglasses on, he saw a white crane flapping its wings in the water. That’s strange, he thought, and motoring closer, he could see the bird was in distress in only a foot of water. His boat resting gently on the bottom, he leaned over and grabbed the bird that was weak and out of breath.
“Well, buddy, with this broken leg you don’t have much chance.” With a smile, he looked around, and then back to the bird. “I guess we’re going to the veterinary clinic after all.”
~ About the Author ~
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Lee DuCote has traveled the world researching cultures, people, and historical accounts to help create his stories. A native to Louisiana, he writes to give hope and encouragement to others, as well as to entertain and spark the imagination. Lee lives in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas with his wife and family and is the author of seven novels including Camp 80 that earned him an international book award.
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