Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Crime, Mystery, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Thriller, Tour, Writer

Dead Lawyers Don’t Lie by Mark Nolan – Book Tour + #Giveaway

20/04/17

dead lawyers banner
Dead Lawyers Dont Lie - EBook 1563 x 2500_375x600
*
Dead Lawyers Don’t Lie
Jake Wolfe Book 1
by Mark Nolan
Genre: Thriller, Crime Mystery
*
dl- about the book
*
A mysterious killer who calls himself The Artist is assassinating
wealthy lawyers in San Francisco. When war veteran Jake Wolfe
accidentally takes his picture during a murder, The Artist adds Jake
to his kill list and he becomes a target in a deadly game of cat and
mouse that only one of them can survive. How far would you go to
protect your loved ones from a killer? Jake wants to leave his top
secret, violent past life behind him. But the reluctant, flawed hero
can’t ignore his duty and his personal moral compass.
This gripping thriller is full of suspense, plot twists and surprises. It
features a cast of interesting characters, including several
strong-willed women, two wise-cracking San Francisco Police Homicide
Inspectors, one highly intelligent dog, and a philosophical killer
who shares Jake’s admiration for Van Gogh paintings but still plans
to kill him anyway. As Jake gets closer to unraveling a merciless
conspiracy, his life gets turned upside down and the danger level
increases, adding to the growing suspense. This entertaining
page-turner starts out as a murder mystery and then shifts gears into
a high-speed action thriller that takes you on a roller-coaster ride
to the riveting ending. A good read for those who enjoy mysteries,
suspense, action and adventure, vigilante justice, unique characters,
witty dialogue and a little romance too. Now on sale in over a dozen
countries around the world. Be the first among your friends to read
it.
*
 *
dl- about the auhtor
*
mark
*
Mark Nolan began his writing career as a successful entrepreneur who
created news stories for businesses that were featured in The Wall
Street Journal, National Geographic, Parade, Reader’s Digest and The
Associated Press. Nolan was born in San Francisco, grew up in the Bay
Area of California, and has also lived in the Pacific Northwest and
Hawaii. He has raised two great kids and one very smart retriever
dog. Right now he’s busy writing the next book about Jake and Cody
(Book 2), but he also tries to make time every day to answer emails
from readers. You can reach him at marknolan.com/contact
*
*
*
dl- giveaway
*
*
 dead lawyers banner
Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Crime, Fiction, Mystery, Romance, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Story, Thriller, Tour, Writer

The Eyewitness By Nancy Weeks – Release Tour + #Giveaway

21/03/17

*
The Eyewitness
By Nancy Weeks
Genre: Mystery, Crime Thriller, Romance
*
*
Fans of TV’s Blue Bloods will love this dynamic new suspense series.
Maryland PD forensic scientist Emersyn D’Azzo has an explosive past with her
father’s younger, sexy partner, Detective Alec Pearce. Then an
ill-timed kiss destroys the thin line of trust between her and her
dad, just before tragedy strikes and someone guns down her father.
The fatal bullet turns out to be tied to the ongoing spree of random
sniper kills across the state, but Emersyn knows this wasn’t a
random act of violence and is determined to find the killer.
To do so, she’ll need to rely on help from Alec, whom she doesn’t
quite trust but just can’t resist. When they discover a connection
to a decades-old disappearance of a college student, their
investigation takes a deadly twist. Can they learn to trust each
other with their hearts to save their lives?
*
 *
*

Ted edged in closer. “You can take a few moments for one dance.” He eyed Tessa. “You don’t mind if I borrow your sister, do you?”

But I do.”

The deep, masculine voice sent an arousing jolt right into Emersyn’s core. And damn it to hell, her mouth went dry, making it impossible to swallow. She fingered her straw then took a deep drink. This time she welcomed the burning chill against her lungs. Detective Alec Pearce had a knack for showing up at her worst moments. Why the hell was he here?

Ted moved away from her as if he’d been burned. “Alec, good to see you.”

You do know you’re hitting on my partner’s daughter, right, Ted?”

Just asking her for a dance.”

Emersyn glanced between the two; she actually preferred Ted’s company to the man who seemed to go out of his way to make her crazy.

Alec reached for her hand and set it in his palm. “Actually, she promised this dance to me. They’re playing our song.”

The muscles in her body tensed as her fingernails dug into his skin. “I don’t—”

Music is on, Em. Shall we?” His other hand went around her waist, and he gave her a swift yank.

Jerkball, let go,” she hissed in his ear.

His grip tightened. “It’s just one dance. Play nice.”

Alec escorted Emersyn to the small dance floor near the bandstand. Every instinct in her wanted to slap his arrogant expression right into next week, but that would make a scene. It was what half the bar expected the instant he got within striking distance. They were all waiting for her to let loose. But this was a new day, a new diploma, new job, new Emersyn. Emotions in check.

My name is Emersyn. I would think you would remember something so simple.”

Alec’s face lit with a grin as his arms brought her close and their bodies began to move to the music. She shot a glare at Tessa, pleading for her to do something. Instead, her sister, the traitor, took another sip of Emersyn’s drink, lifted it in a toast, and rotated in her seat.

A chuckle came from deep in Alec’s throat. “Tessa likes me. You can thank me now.”

I can also knee you where the sun doesn’t shine.”

He lifted her chin with his thumb. “Now that wasn’t nice. I sacrificed a night with that blonde”—he nodded to a beautiful woman sitting at the end of the bar—“just to keep Lecher Ted from hitting on you … again.”

What makes you think I needed rescuing?”

Oh please, Tessa, make the creep go away. I’m ever so sweet and don’t want to hurt the poor jerk’s feelings.”

She yanked out of Alec’s hold, but he was ready and moved her back into his arms without missing a beat.

Relax. I’m teasing.”

You are such an ass.”

His lips brushed over her ear. “Enjoy our moment, Em.”

Impossible. They had more layers of misunderstanding between them than her mother’s chocolate cake, heated words that couldn’t be unheard and arguments with no closure.

After her father had mentioned at dinner that Alec was joining them for dessert, she’d jumped at Tessa’s offer to buy her a drink at the tavern. It was the perfect place to hide out. A lone wolf like Alec wouldn’t be caught dead in the crowded, noisy bar. But here he was. She’d run but not far enough.

I’m sorry I missed your graduation ceremony, but I have a little something for you,” he whispered.

You didn’t need to do that.”

I’m proud of you.”

The words sounded so genuine. “Dad seems resigned to the idea of me at least working alongside cops, if not as a cop.”

Joe doesn’t want you anywhere near the job. But you found a way around that. Instead of crawling in the gutter looking for the worst mankind has to offer, you’re picking through what they left behind.”

She halted in the middle of the dance floor. “You think that’s why I became a forensic scientist?”

I didn’t mean it like that.”

Then what did you mean?”

The music stopped, and they stood still, glaring at each other. Our thing. “I can’t do this tonight,” she said, dropping her hand to her sides. “Thanks.”

For?”

Saving me from another go-around with Ted.”

Do you want me to talk to him?”

I can take care of myself.”

For once, there was no comeback. Instead, he eased her against him and tucked her hand over his heart. “Dance with me, Emersyn.”

That sexy, got-to-have-you-now voice was back, and her other four senses came out to play. Being close to Alec Pearce, taking in his spicy, clean soap scent, feeling the strength of his arms around her wasn’t an awful feeling. Confusing? Hell yes, but her body sure enjoyed it. It’s just a dance, right?

She lowered one hand to his hip and brought the other around his neck, her cheek resting against his. Alec tightened his grip around her waist as he spun them around the dance floor. The move put their bodies in sync, and there was no mistaking the effect she had on him. Her lips brushed against his skin, sending shock waves through her.

He sucked in a breath and tilted his head. Their gazes held for what seemed like an eternity. He was so damn gorgeous, his deep brown eyes with a hint of gold, lush lashes, and a dusting of five-o’clock shadow on his square jaw that she ached to feel rubbed against all her soft places. As if he read her mind, his mouth caressed her bottom lip. He waited, expecting her to pull back. Need took over, and she lost her mind.

*

*
*
Nancy C. Weeks has loved happy-ever-after romances since her early teens.
While still in college, she met and married her hero. She spent the
next several years honeymooning and working overseas. Today, she
lives in suburban Maryland with her husband of more than thirty
years. With her two grown children out of the nest, she enjoys
spending her days writing suspenseful happily-ever-after adventures
outside on the deck as the local bird population keeps her company.
When she is not writing, Nancy loves to blog about fascinating
people, both real and fictional. The one quote that kept her dream
alive:
Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were
to success when they gave up. ~Thomas Edison~
*
*
 *
*
*
*
 
Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Crime, Fiction, Mystery, Paranormal, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Story, Tour, Writer

Detecting Magic by A. Jarrell HayesBook Tour + #Giveaway

Facebook01/03/17

*
Detecting Magic with Dick Hunter:
The Mort des Hommes Files
*
by A. Jarrell Hayes
Genre: Paranormal Crime Mystery
*
*
What begins as a routine missing person case for Seattle’s best private
investigator, Dick Hunter, turns into a personal vendetta against a
cruel murderer. The murderer, Mort des Hommes, happens to be a hell
spawn possessing powerful magic.
In order to solve the case and avenge a death, Dick Hunter has to take a
crash course in magic from the angelic Amie, and gather magical
animal familiars in order to battle and defeat Mort des Hommes.
** free on Kindle during the days of 2/21 – 2/25 !!**
*
dm-excerpt

When I recall what I saw that day, I can scarce but wonder why I didn’t go insane. On the ground was the body of Mr. Hollis, bloody and torn but still barely alive and breathing. He was twitching on the grass like a chopped up inchworm. One arm was detached from the rest of his body, the hand clinched into a fist. Dangling freely from his torso was his intestines, pulled out from a huge gash in his lower stomach area. Blood flowed freely from many wounds. Blood splattered Mr. Hollis’ face, too; and by the looks of things, it was his own blood at that.

There was a man looming menacing over his tortured body: a white gentleman about a decade into AARP membership, slim and in good shape, with cold blue eyes and a tuft of white hair sticking out from under his smoke gray derby hat. He’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt and simple black tie, a long gray wool coat over his suit. He held a spear in his right arm, the tip of it pointed at Mr. Hollis’ forehead.

I couldn’t simply stand and watch the murder of a man without attempting to stop it, so I pulled out my sidearm and aimed it at the old man that looked like a reject from The Godfather movies. “Drop the spear!” I ordered.

The old man looked at me as if he hadn’t noticed that I was there beforehand. A sinister and arrogant smile formed across his pale face. He spread open his arms as he faced me—he was daring me to shoot him!

I wasn’t going to shoot him as long as he didn’t threaten me. I was hoping he wouldn’t, because that would be a heck of a lot of paperwork to fill out at the police station. I was hoping that he would let go of the weapon he borrowed from Fred Flintstone and allow me to apprehend him and call the police. But, of course, life’s never that easy, right?

The old fart turns and aims the spear at me, putting me in a tight situation. I have the more deadly weapon, so if I shoot and kill this old man, it might appear to be an act of abusing my gun privileges. If I don’t shoot, I’ll end up with a spear through my neck. I did the only logical thing I could do: I shot the old man in his shoulder.

The first shot seemed to do nothing to the old man. I had excellent aim, and I was close enough to the target that even if my aim sucked balls I still would’ve hit him. But there was nothing on the old man, not even a scratch.

I fired three more times, all with the same results as the first. It was as if the bullets, as they drew closer to him, ceased existing.

That’s when the old man gazed at me with his wicked smile, and, not even looking at his victim on the ground, rammed his spear through Mr. Hollis’ temple. He removed the spear with a jerk. Brain chunks and blood splattering everywhere. He winked at me and slowly turned to walk away. I fired two more rounds, without hitting him, until the old man vanished. That’s right; he vanished, like a specter or hologram.

My mind was having trouble making sense of the nonsense that just transpired. One thing I did know was that Benny-boy wasn’t in such good shape. I had to be quick. I dashed to the body and dropped to my knees. I stared at the corpse.

I shook my head at the dead body and whispered, “Why did you die? What did you die for, man?” I sighed and then walked over to where his arm lay. I lifted it up to rejoin it with his body. As I did so, a pebble and a pack of matches fell from his grasp. I placed the arm across his chest and retrieved the fallen pebble and matches. The matches were from some place called Amie’s House of Spirits; I placed both items in my coat pocket. That’s when I heard the police sirens and decided to disappear from the scene of the crime before I spent the rest of the night answering questions at the precinct.

 

#

 

Find out what happens next in Detecting Magic with Dick Hunter: The Mort des Hommes Files. Claim your copy at: https://www.amazon.com/Detecting-Magic-Dick-Hunter-Hommes-ebook/dp/B004P8JXD8/.

*

 *
*
Detecting Magic with Dick Hunter:
The Demonic Dozen
*
*
Detective Dick Hunter is back!
Dick and comrades defeated Wicked Jinn Mort des Hommes in a climatic
battle at the Gates of Hades. Though stopped of his ultimate goal of
world domination, Mort was able to release twelve demons into the
world–and Dick Hunter blames himself.
To put an end to the demonic threat, Dick Hunter and Amie–a former
Pleasant Jinn and Dick’s current lover–accompany an old friend,
Pleasant Jinn Guy, across the country on a demon hunting spree. More
action, adventure and wisecracks await in the next installment in the
genre-bending, fourth-wall-breaking Detecting Magic with Dick Hunter
series.
 *
**Releases March 7th, 2017!**
*
dm-excerpt

The talking pigeon was really an Aura elemental familiar under contract with Guy. There are six types of elementals, and they often times work with Jinn–Pleasant and Wicked–to help them complete missions. They’re needed in order to weaken or seal Jinn. Well, from my experience, they were necessary as distractions, so to speak. Just another body for the enemy to fight while the human of the group attempts to seal or weaken the Jinn.             I could go on about elementals and sealing Jinn and shit, but I already covered that enough in the previous book. You guys should go check that out if you hadn’t already.             But the main thing was that this filthy little pigeon had some valuable information. Apparently, there’s a new designer drug that hit the streets of Baltimore called sublime. It’s a pill people ingest. According to the Aura, sublime alters the body, I think something to do with dumping extra adrenaline into the blood, and the blimer (the person who’s popping sublime–seriously, I couldn’t make this shit up even if I tried) gets the strength of Superman, able to lift cars and shit. And they get hungry. Blimers get a strange craving for human flesh, and they have the strength to bite off large chunks with their teeth. Not pretty.             So yeah, that’s really a fucked up situation in Charm City. NARCs were up to their chests in cases, the police commissioner and mayor were under scrutiny, and folks were dying by the scores–getting eaten alive. Often by their buddy they just popped sublime with. There were hunger houses–basically crack houses for blimers–all over the city, thanks to about 1,500 or so blighted and condemned houses. Once uncovered, they’d be two or three or more half and fully devoured bodies found in them. Disturbing shit.             Before he left for Seattle, Guy had felt the presence of two demons in Baltimore. However, he didn’t have an agitator or a Thanos Stone or even the humans to wield them. Which was why he told his Aura to keep tabs on things in Tubman City while he went to gather Amie and I from the west coast. I wished he had said something earlier. Jinn and their goddamn secrets.             Guy definitely thought it was the Addiction demon that was spreading around sublime. Only a demon could manufacture a drug with an agent that could alter human physiology as drastically as sublime did, or so said Guy. Amie agreed with him. I just kept quiet, looking pretty, because I had no idea what they were talking about.             Anyway, the next day Guy’s Aura returned with more news for us . . .               “Guy, Guy,” squawks the Aura. “I overheard this from one of the dealers. There is a big shipment of sublime coming tonight at the docks. Taj, the biggest sublime supplier in the city, is always there during a shipment.”

Guy nods and throws a handful of bread crumbs at it. “Merci. You have done well. Time for rest, non?”             The pigeon mumbles, “Thank you,” as it eagerly pecks at the crumbs.

Guy joins Amie and me at the kitchen table. “You suspect this Taj guy is really Addiction?” I say.             “Oui. And if he is not, the real demon will most likely be the one dropping off the large shipment.”             “I wonder why all the subterfuge,” I say. “If the demon is manufacturing sublime, why go through all the trouble of having it shipped in?”             Guy shrugs. Amie says, “That’s a good question. Maybe the shipment is only the materials needed to manufacture sublime.”             Eh, that’s a sickening thought. I remember the ingredients Mort used to make his hellhound canines. I’m sure what the demon uses to make sublime is nasty, and possibly human.             “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”             Guy laughs and shakes his head at me. Then he gets up from the table. “I am going to pray and cleanse myself for tonight.”             Amie gets up too. “I’m going to mediate.”             They both walk out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with a damn pigeon.               I had a couple of hours to kill, so I decided to go out for a walk. The city seemed, I don’t know, nicer since the last time I visited. The area was relatively clean for a city with over half a million people. I didn’t know where I was going, so I just kept walking. Somehow my feet led me to a bar.             I went in, sat at the counter, and ordered a whiskey on the rocks. An Orioles game played on a big flat screen TV behind the bar. I sipped my drink and got lost in the strikes and balls.             I admit, I was a bit put off how Amie just left me right after Guy got up. Was I jealous? Slightly. But those two knew things I didn’t. They both have lived hundreds of years. One was a Jinn possessing unbelievable magic, the other was formerly a Jinn. I was the odd man out in this threesome; I was the third wheel.             Into my fourth drink I realized alcohol wasn’t going to change any of that. Wasn’t going to help it any, either. I paid my tab and then shuffled on back to Guy’s apartment.

 

#

 

Follow Dick Hunter’s adventure in Detecting Magic with Dick Hunter: The Demonic Dozen. Available March 7, 2017. Claim your copy at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MZ6X983.

*

 *
*
*
Person. Storyteller. Work-in-progress. A. Jarrell Hayes began writing at a
young age; his first books being handwritten and illustrated stories
similar to the Choose Your Own Adventure titles he loved. In 2004 he
published his first two “official” books, Heart and Soul of
a Thinker (poetry) and Crowning of the Good King (fantasy). Since
then, he has written seven poetry collections, four fantasy novels,
three short story collections and a handful of chapbooks. His work
has appeared in over 20 publications, online and in print. His visual
art has been on display at the Baltimore Museum of Art (BMA) and the
Eubie Blake Jazz and Cultural Center in Baltimore. He began
publishing poetry under the name A. J. Hayes in 2013. A list of his
published works is available here.
In 2013 he founded a small publishing press called Hidden Clearing
Books, LLC (now closed). He has judged contests for the
aforementioned press and for the Maryland Writer’s Association. He is
a freelance editor and book consultant (hire him here).
He currently lives in Maryland. He invites you to subscribe to his free
eNewsletter and contribute to his Patreon.
*
*
*
*
*
Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Action, Author, blog, Book, Crime, Mystery, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Thriller, Tour, Writer

The Kramer and Shadow by Greg Smith – Book Tour+ #Giveaway

09/02/17

The Pits
Kramer and Shadow Book 1
by Greg Smith
Genre: Crime Mystery, Action, Thriller
THE PITS, a contemporary crime novel, tells the story of Captain Kramer,
USMC, a compassionate, intelligent man, who rescues a pup from the
scene of a car bombing while on deployment to Afghanistan. The pup is
named Shadow, and accompanies Kramer back to Oceanside, California.
They commit themselves to a campaign which has them fighting for
their lives during an FBI operation to bring down a crime boss based
in Florida.
 mt-excerpt

The Humvees sped past people milling about, pointing at the smoke still towering over the town of Gereshk and jabbering loudly among themselves. Women and children huddled together here and there away from the road, and the elderly gaped at the armored convoy racing into hell.

The town itself was quite built up but very poor and the sewage trails ran down the streets in open channels. Leathernecks would be covered in it when they finished their patrols. Kids ran around in it barefooted.

The Humvees arrived at the town’s central marketplace and instantly found themselves mobbed by hysterical townsfolk. The Marines dismounted and immediately secured the area as the corpsman pushed his way through the tumult towards the blast site. Captain Kramer, 1st Battalion, 1st Marines, Regimental Combat Team 6 held his ground against the terrified and angry locals wailing in his face, some even tugging at his uniform for attention.

He needed to assess the situation. Apart from his Humvees, no other vehicles occupied the square. His troops had rapidly secured the perimeter and a couple now assisted the corpsman. A gritty cloud of smoke and dust shrouded the entire area but drifted away over the rooftops, aided by a breeze that had mercifully sprung up.

Sure enough, a car bomb. A huge scorched crater marked where the car had been parked outside a building. The remains of the vehicle lay in a smoldering, mangled heap halfway across the square with the Explosive Ordnance Disposal technicians sifting through it. Rubble, pieces of metal, the dead, dying, and the injured lay strewn about the whole marketplace. Kramer’s boot bumped something as he stepped forward, and his eyes snapped to his feet. A bloody hand lay palm up. An innocent child’s hand.

His demeanor hardened, and the mob fell back as if it sensed the deadliness building up inside the warrior. Reports flooded in to him as his troops called in with updates. Without hesitation, the radio tech who kept close by Captain Kramer as he prowled the devastated marketplace flashed the news to base headquarters. Among the townsfolk still milling about, a few local officials, including the police chief, worked with the Marines to clear the area of unnecessary personnel.

Close by, a handful of weeping men loaded a civilian pickup truck with bodies, each wrapped in blood-soaked cloth. A group of distraught women mixed with them, wailing and grasping at each bundle being handled. Overwrought by their gruesome task, they were totally oblivious of the poor bewildered individual sitting quietly among their shuffling feet.

A runty tan pup sat sorrowfully beside one particular body. Occasionally it raised a paw and tentatively touched the bloody cloth, or prodded it with its nose. Kramer observed transfixed as the pup peered at the people, then at the small bundle of cloth, then at the people again. Then the pup nuzzled the bundle as if trying to awaken the person wrapped inside.

A grief-stricken man knelt and reverently lifted the tiny body. Judging by his age, he’s likely the father. As he stood, the pup whimpered as if to say, hey, wait a moment. The wailing increased as hands passed the body up to a blood-streaked villager standing in the back of the pickup. Just as he turned to place the bundle with the others, a gust of wind flipped up a corner of the cloth, revealing a tiny hand. Instinctively, Kramer felt that it belonged to a very young girl.

With the last victim onboard, the pickup started up and pulled away. The men and women mourners followed close behind trying to comfort each other as best as they could. The procession gradually left the square, disappearing from view as a waiting throng swarmed after it as it passed into a nearby street.

A strange silence fell over the square. It seemed as if the few remaining locals and all the Marines had their attention riveted on the lonely pup still sitting in the road. It hadn’t left that spot in all this time. Now it sat there staring after the pickup and those following it.

Captain Kramer crossed the street and gently lifted the pup. An expression of pure unadulterated love met his eyes. A light sparkled behind those dark brown eyes that he couldn’t describe. He just felt it.

“Well, hello there, little guy. Looks like everyone’s gone and left you all alone. Ain’t fair, is it? What say I do something about that.”

The pup didn’t squirm or attempt to get away. It merely fixed its eyes on him as if it knew that this person would care for it, keep it safe, and maybe even feed it occasionally. As the six-foot-six Kramer cradled the puny creature in his arms, he was oblivious to the gazes directed his way from all around the square.

 

You Can Run
Kramer and Shadow Book 2
Captain Kramer, USMC, and his faithful four-footer partner, Sgt. Shadow,
USMC, both survive their first operation assisting the FBI in
bringing down the empire of a major crime boss in America. But more
is in store for the two Marines in yet another FBI operation to tie
up loose ends from the previous op. This time the action is more
intense and proves too costly for the Marines.
 mt-excerpt

She scrambled on her hands and knees, worming her way deep into the thick underbrush. Her lungs and throat burned from frantic breathing. The pain of branches and rocks tearing and bruising her skin went unfelt. Terror coursing through her young body immunized her senses to any injuries.

She bumped into the base of a tree, its rough bark scraping her face. Her arms wrapped around the trunk welcoming the sense of security offered. The girl shuffled around and leaned her back against the tree and drew her knees up to her chest.

She squeezed her eyes tight and listened.

Blood pounded in her ears. She struggled to dampen the infernal noise and gradually her hearing cleared. At first there was nothing then suddenly she heard it—a distant crackling and popping. Her brow wrinkled in concentration as she worked to put a name to the sound. Her eyes flew open. Fire.

Despite the dense underbrush and the distance she had placed between herself and the house, she spotted the flickering light. Night lay thick and heavy all around her and there was no mistaking the flames reaching out through her bedroom window. Tears ran down her face and sobs racked her as images of her parents flashed before her mind’s eye.

“Sarah, time for bed, dear.” Her mother had sent her off to bed early tonight because her father wanted to leave at first light tomorrow morning. It was to be the family’s first vacation to Disney World and the young twelve year old was ecstatic, to say the least. She argued she didn’t think she could sleep a wink but her mother still insisted she try.

Sleep must have snuck up on her because the house was totally dark when the crash of splintering wood jerked her wide-awake. At first she thought she dreamt the noise, but as she sat up in bed wondering, sound of glass shattering came from somewhere downstairs, toward the front of the house. Then she heard the back door burst open.

She leapt out of bed and dashed to the bedroom door. Sarah remembered watching her mother ease it close and blowing her a goodnight kiss. Now she stood at the top of the stairs staring fearfully down into the darkness. Her parents’ room lay at the bottom of the staircase. Suddenly her father threw the door open, startling her. A shaft of light spilled from the bedroom throwing his shadow starkly against the opposite wall. He stared up at her wild-eyed for a second, and swiveled his head back and forth as chaotic sounds came from both ends of the house.

“Get back in your room and close the door, Sarah,” he hissed.

But before she could do as ordered something caught her father’s attention and he turned from her. He was a large man, strongly built, and his frame blocked the passage to the kitchen at the back of the house. Sarah took a tentative step down the stairs when her father must have noticed someone coming from the living room up front.

“What the dickens is going on?” her father shouted. “Who are you? What the hell do you want? You have no right—”

Everything seemed to happen at once.

Sarah’s mother appeared. Her face contorted with fear, her eyes snapping up at her young daughter. Sarah’s father braced himself as a figure charged at him out of the dark. As the two collided in a melee of swinging fists, another man joined the fray. He must have come from the kitchen.

Her mother screamed. Sarah screamed even louder. Her ear-piercing screech resounded in the house, now a scene of an ugly brawl.

“Get out. Now!” Father’s muffled command came from inside the tangle of bodies on the floor.

Sarah’s mother attempted to move to the stairs but a hand lashed out from the scuffle, seized her ankle, and brought her crashing down hard. The woman’s head struck the bottom hardwood stair with a dull crack. A trickle of blood seeped down her face as she stared up at Sarah in horror.

“Grab the kid.” The voice belonged to one of the house invaders.

A sudden thunderous roar rose out of the fighting and with herculean effort, father heaved himself up sending one of the strangers hurtling down the passage. The other pulled something dark and ugly from his belt.

An explosion filled the hallway. Sarah’s hands flew to her ears as she let out a long, high-pitch shriek. Her father toppled to the floor, but not before his shocked and sorrowful expression seared itself into the young girl’s mind.

She turned and bolted.

Toys and clothes littered her room but these she simply ran around or jumped over. She focused on her bedroom window—her only avenue of escape.

Her hands grabbed the wooden frame and, using all her youthful strength, she hefted the window up. Fear clutched her throat. She could barely make out the ground some twelve feet below. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Sarah held her breath, said a very short prayer, and flung herself into the night.

Judo and gymnastic lessons at school came into play and she tucked and rolled as she hit the ground. She sprang to her feet and ran straight for the forest bordering the family property.

Now, hunkered down and shivering from shock and fear, the girl was mesmerized by the sight of her home burning. Regarded as inquisitive by everyone who knew her, Sarah always had a question to pose. Even as her tears glistened in the glow of the fire her mind raced.

If the strangers were after her why hadn’t they simply come through her bedroom window? Why did they break into the house so savagely? And why, oh why, did they have to hurt her parents like they did?

A man emerged from the house. Instinctively Sarah froze; every muscle taut. Only her eyes moved. They followed the man as he walked the edge of the flames, his figure silhouetted against the fiery glare. He reached the area where Sarah’s bedroom used to be and stared at the conflagration. He glanced up as his partner came from around the rear of the house and joined him.

The two men stood for a long moment, gesturing at the fire and each other. Sarah guessed from their body language they were angry, probably at how the night’s events had turned out. One of the men looked down, fingers scratching his chin as if he were in deep thought. Suddenly his whole body stiffened and he dropped to one knee. He touched the ground with his fingertips and his head turned slowly as his eyes tracked a line of some sort.

His arm rose and pointed straight at the tree. Right where Sarah hid.

Fear seized her. She could not breathe. Cold sweat appeared along her hairline and trickled down her chest. Her stomach lurched and the sudden urge to vomit swept over her as bile boiled up her throat. She shot to her feet. She had to run, had to—.

A man blocked her escape. Someone she hadn’t seen before. He grabbed a handful of her hair.

“Gotcha, ya little minx,” he hissed close to her ear, and louder, “Over here, guys. I have the kid. She ain’t going nowhere.”

 

Lex Talionis
(An Eye For an Eye)
Kramer and Shadow Book 3
A woman out for revenge. America took her husband. America will pay
10,000 fold!

Only Kramer and his Anatolian Shepherd, Shadow, stand in her way. But
will they be enough to stop her?

mt-excerpt

It is rare for most people to experience the real meaning of ‘dead weight.’

It was equally strange for the thought to come to mind as Kramer muscled the man into a sitting position against a garishly painted door. It wasn’t the first time he’d needed to handle the dead. He studied his handiwork. For all intents and purposes, the figure appeared to be asleep.

Kramer surveyed the alley and the ancient balconies overhead checking for witnesses. No one. A last glance at his handiwork, then he slipped away from the scene.

He had to catch up with his target. The man he was following had entered the medina, or old walled city, of Tangier from the port and headed directly into the warren of alleyways. He was wearing white cotton slacks and a bluish grey lightweight jacket and a white fedora all of which made him somewhat of an easy figure for Kramer to tail.

Although his Global Security Corporation partners, Darci Tucker and his wife, Maria, hadn’t said as much when they pressured him gently into this assignment, Kramer was well aware that it was done out of their concern for him.

The flight from Los Angeles to London to Amsterdam had provided the retired United States Marine major more than enough time for circumspection and for the ugly truth to reveal itself. Losing his parents and his fiancée, FBI Special Agent Sarah Hunter, thirty months ago, had decimated Kramer’s life and left him intolerable company for anyone, especially his close friends. Darci and Maria needed a break from him as much as he needed a new focus and a chance to reprioritize his life.

So here he was in Tangier, Morocco, three weeks after leaving LA, tailing a man they suspected had ties with Shelley Harper—a woman at the top of INTERPOL’s ‘most wanted’ list as well as those of most governments worldwide. For Kramer though, the reasons for hunting down the elusive Harper were by far more personal than anyone else’s.

Ahead a shaft of sunlight snapped off a bluish grey jacket and white fedora. Kramer quickened his pace. A minute later he stood at the junction of four alleyways.

As he scanned the crowds strolling the centuries old terraced alleys, Kramer was oblivious of the many things the Moroccan port of Tangier offered travellers—the sense of exotic mystery, interesting history, beautiful vistas and unspoiled beaches.

One of his favorite movies, The Bourne Ultimatum, had used the medina for one of its glamorous backdrops but it hadn’t prepared Kramer for the spice-filled air with its intriguing aromas that permeated the ancient city.

He overheard a tourist enquire after Bab Haha from a street stall owner who waved a dark olive skinned arm at one of the intersecting alleys. Kramer instinctively glanced in that direction and happened to catch sight of his target. He lit out after Fedora.

Kramer’s situational awareness was as keen as ever but he couldn’t be certain that his unfortunate assailant had merely been a street thug or someone protecting Fedora. The assignment was supposed to be a simple task of arriving at an address in Cairo where GSC had been informed they would locate the fedora-wearing courier. From there all Kramer need do was to shadow the man to his next meeting and capture everything on video, upload the file to Maria at GSC headquarters in California and await further orders.

It all sounded simple enough. Right up to the point that joker jumped Kramer in the medina alley flashing a dagger. That part wasn’t in the script.

A gap in the buildings afforded him a glimpse of the ancient fortifications of the Tangier Kasbah that loomed over the medina. Moments later Kramer found himself standing before Bab Haha. It proved to be one of the several doors or gates that lead into the Kasbah.

Kramer glanced at the map to the left of Bab Haha that highlighted the walk tourists could take around the Kasbah. Overall, the ancient fortified area looked surprising small.

He spotted Fedora weaving through the populace and followed it. Houses lavishly decorated with sculptures of cherubs, colorful shutters and balconies flanked the alley that took him into the Place du Méchouar. He fended off the hordes that descended upon him begging for money or trying to sell something, dodged past the snake charmers and dancers, and skipped around gawking groups of tourists.

At first he Fedora intended to enter the Kasbah Museum but then he ducked through an unassuming door off to its side. The sign over the entrance welcomed Kramer in several languages to enter Les Fils du Detroit, helpfully translated underneath as The Sons of the Strait. He stepped in and found himself transported back in time.

The ten by sixteen feet room proved to be a tiny café. Several people, mainly locals, occupied the two narrow rug-covered bench seats that ran the length of the room. The walls were covered in Moroccan tapestries and numerous old framed photographs hung precariously above the patrons’ heads. A couple of circular, hand beaten bronze tables took some valuable space from the narrow floor and carried several small glasses of mint tea.

The customers paid scant attention to Kramer as he joined them. They continued sipping their hot drinks while a group of four elderly Arab-Andalusian musicians held a jam session at the far end of the room. The authentic melodies and ambiance recreated Morocco’s rich, cultural past.

Kramer accepted a glass of tea and whipped out a tourist guide from his back pocket. He pretended to read it, glancing occasionally at the musicians when, in fact, his focus was really on his target seated opposite.

The man was in his mid-30s, olive skin, lanky, sported a pencil-thin moustache, and wire-rimmed glasses that framed deep-set dark brown eyes. Thick black, wavy hair flowed from under the fedora and skimmed the collar of his jacket.

He leaned close to an older gentleman dressed in the traditional neutrally colored Moroccan djellaba; a long, loose, hooded garment with long sleeves. The craggy weather-beaten face was topped by a black bernousse, or Fez, and a silvery white beard completed the classical Arabic countenance. Both men were deep in conversation.

Kramer shifted slightly to align himself with his target. Once back in his hotel room he would upload the image and audio file from the second button on his shirt.

Darci Tucker, CEO of Global Security Corporation, had designed the ultra high-tech surveillance device. His wife, Maria, would work her digital wizardry to garner every bit of intelligence from it in order to create the next link in the chain that would hopefully lead them closer to Shelley Harper.

All three had a score to settle with the woman.

 

The advent of retirement opened a whole new world to me and now that it
has come to pass, I am turning my artistic bent from graphic design
and illustration to that of writing.
To date I have published three books, KILLING SOFTLY (an erotic mystery
thriller), and begun an action crime series centered on two
characters, Captain Kramer, USMC and his Anatolian Shepherd dog, Sgt.
Shadow, USMC. Book One of the series is THE PITS, Book Two is YOU CAN
RUN, and at the time of this bibliography rewrite, I am working on
Book Three, LEX TALIONIS.
The Kramer and Shadow series is an action, adventure, crime thriller
series that encompasses the world and has our two Marines fighting
hard against organized crime at many levels – but always involving
do-or-die confrontations.
My hope is to establish a fan base for my writing so that my readers can
have an active role in helping me grow and develop as an author in
the years to come. I invite you to join me in this adventure.

 

 
Posted in #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Crime, Mystery, Paranormal, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Thriller, Tour, Writer

I Was Murdered Last Night by A.J. Gallant – Book Tour + #Giveaway

09/12/16

I was Murdered Last Night 

Olivia Brown Mystery Book 1
By A.J. Gallant 

Genre: Paranormal, Mystery, Crime, Thriller

 
Murder mystery meets the paranormal.
Anita’s vacation in New York City ends tragically when she’s killed in Central Park, but instead of the end, it’s only the beginning. Her soul remains at the death scene trying hard to process what happened. And there are other ghosts here that don’t seem to be much help. And, 
of course, the new reality of being a ghost does not sit well with Anita.
What is she supposed to do now?
Why can’t she go into the light? She appears connected to Detective Olivia Brown, the detective assigned to solve her murder. Is she supposed to help her or is something else going on? 
Will the crime go unsolved? Does it even matter now that she’s dead? Or can Detective Olivia Brown get to the bottom of what happened that night in the park? 

 

And can there be romance on the other side?

 

 

 
 
 
A. J. Gallant, owned by a Siamese cat named Moon Diamond (who may or may not be a vampire), compels A. J. to get up every morning at five to take him for a walk so that he can see what’s going on in the neighborhood.
The writing spark was first initiated by reading the works of Harlan Ellison. He’s the creator of more than a dozen screenplays.
He releases 2 to 3 books a year.
 

 

 

 

 

Posted in #Giveaway, Author, blog, Book, Crime, Dark Humor, Murder, Mystery, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, suspense, Thriller, Tour, Writer

Ten Percent by DL Bruin -Book Tour + #Giveaway

22/11/16
ten-percent-banner

ten-percent

Ten Percent: Hollywood Can Be Murder
By DL Bruin
Genre: Suspense, Thriller, Crime, Mystery, Dark Humor

ten-about-the-book

What Price Dreams?
After decades of toiling in the “C” Leagues, talent agent Shelly Monroe has finally hit the big time when she discovers and signs actor Cody Clifton, who is on the fast track to be TV’s newest superstar. It’s a Hollywood truth that getting to the top is one thing, but staying there is something else. Shelly Monroe is finally living her dreams and she’s not about to let it slip through her fingers.
Veteran LAPD detective Maxine Calderas finds herself in hot pursuit of a serial killer with a taste for prostitutes. The trail puts her on a collision course with Shelly’s world when Max Calderas becomes convinced that Shelly knows a secret that may help Max crack her case.
Cody Clifton, America’s newest Golden Boy is haunted by the ghosts of a troubled childhood. Will he succeed in conquering his demons or will they derail his rising star? Jimmy Bodine is Cody’s best friend and fierce competitor for the Hollywood brass ring. Will their friendship withstand Jimmy’s ambitions and Cody’s sudden white hot success?
The stakes are high and the winner takes all as the player’s paths cross each other amidst the hot house jungle that is Hollywood. DL Bruin gives readers an insider’s look at the Hollywood dream factory in this darkly humorous thriller.

Goodreads * Amazon * B&N

ten-about-the-author

dl-bruin

DL Bruin was born in Los Angeles, CA. At the ripe old age of five he began his career as an actor, and spent his childhood working on numerous TV shows and feature films, under the name Lindy Davis. After high school, DL joined the US Air Force and served as an air traffic controller, specializing in RADAR approach control. Upon completion of service, he returned to Hollywood and a career behind the camera as a photographer and writer.
Preferring to just visit Hollywood these days, DL currently resides with his family in beautiful, rural northern California.

Website * Amazon * Goodreads * Twitter * Facebook

ten-giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway

sdsxx-tour-button