19 November 2019

Storm of Secrets by Loretta Marion



I am so excited that STORM OF SECRETS by Loretta Marion is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author Loretta Marion, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for signed first editions of STORM OF SECRETS & book 1 HOUSE OF ASHES and a book bag and stickers, US Only AND ebook of THE FOOL'S TRUTH International, courtesy of Loretta and Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.

About the Book:

Title: STORM OF SECRETS (Haunted Bluffs Mystery #2)
Author: Loretta Marion
Pub. Date: November 12, 2019
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books
Formats: Hardcover, eBook
Pages: 312

A deadly storm, a missing three-year-old child, a grisly murder, and the eerie presence of the spirits of the dead set the stage for the second mesmerizing installment of Loretta Marion's paranormal suspense series.

A powerful storm descends upon Cape Cod's Whale Rock at the peak of tourist season--and the weekend Cassandra Mitchell's and Daniel Benjamin's wedding is set to take place at The Bluffs, the magnificent Victorian mansion Cassie inherited from her family. In the wake of the storm's destruction, three-year-old Lucas Kleister goes missing--and the body of small-time drug dealer Lee Chambers is found in a restaurant dumpster. Now, the WRPD are faced with a murder to solve, a missing child to find, and the aftermath of one of the worst storms in recent memory.

While aiding with the clean-up and helping the displaced, Cassie has been receiving cryptic messages from the spirits of her great-grandparents, Percy and Celeste Mitchell, the original residents of The Bluffs. At first, the messages are benign, but soon, they begin to point to something more sinister. As Cassie works to decipher their meaning, the specter of a mysterious local legend surfaces. The tale of Barnacle Boy--and what happened to him during another destructive storm decades earlier--will weave through the desperate search to find Lucas and the identity of the killer.

"Modern and historic mysteries collide in Marion's bittersweet storytelling."   

“[A] gripping sequel...Marion seamlessly weaves the multiple story threads together. Fans of tales of regional intrigue will be satisfied.” Publishers Weekly  


Title: HOUSE OF ASHES (Haunted Bluffs Mystery #1)
Author: Loretta Marion
Pub. Date: November 13, 2018
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books
Formats: Hardcover, eBook
Pages: 336

A family patriarch’s dying proclamation, an enigmatic disappearance, and a century-old curse converge in the shadows of a majestic home on Cape Cod’s craggy coast.

Thirty-seven-year-old painter Cassandra Mitchell is fourth-generation to live in the majestic Battersea Bluffs, a brooding Queen Anne home originally built by her great-grandparents, Percy and Celeste Mitchell, and still standing despite tragedies that have swept the generations. Local lore has it that there was a curse placed on the family and the house is haunted, though opinions are divided on whether it's by malicious or benevolent spirits. Cassie believes the latter―but now she stands to lose her beloved home to mounting debt and the machinations of her dream-weaving ex-husband.

Salvation seems to arrive when a nomadic young couple wanders onto the property with the promise of companionship and much-needed help―until they vanish without a trace, leaving behind no clue to their identities. Cassie is devastated, but determined to discover what's happened to the young couple...even as digging into their disappearance starts to uncover family secrets of her own. Despite warnings from her childhood friend, now the local Chief of Police―as well as an FBI agent who pushes the boundaries of professionalism―Cassie can't help following the trail of clues (and eerie signals from the old house itself) to unravel the mystery. But can she do so before her family's dark curse destroys everything in its path?

Excerpt:
Whale Rock Village, Massachusetts     

     On the short walk to my car, a sparkle caught my eye on the ground near a temporary dumpster behind La Table, the new location of my old flame Billy Hughes’s catering business.
     Later, I reflected on how different things would have been had I not been so curious.
     What if I hadn’t had the dress fitting today? What if I hadn’t parked in Archie’s space? What if I hadn’t gone out the back door of his shop? What if I hadn’t gone over to examine what was glittering next to the dumpster?
     “The what ifs and should haves will eat your brain.” It was a quote of John O’Callaghan’s, from his book of poetry entitled, Sincerely, John the Ghost—ironically, a gift from Zoe, who’d always eschewed the notion of Percy’s and Celeste’s spirits.
     The point is, if I hadn’t done all those things, then I wouldn’t have seen that glint on the ground and gone over to check out what it was. Most crucially, I would never have noticed a hand through the rusted-out hole in the dumpster.
     A very dead hand.


About Loretta: 

An author of fiction, Loretta’s writing bridges the genres of women’s fiction, mystery and suspense, always with hints of romance and humor, sometimes delving into the psychological and paranormal. She creates strong but flawed and struggling characters as appealing as the rich atmospheric settings in which the stories take place.

Loretta has loved reading and creating with words since she was a young girl. And that affection for the written word followed her like a shadow throughout her life as she put pen to paper crafting marketing and advertising copy, educational brochures and newsletters. But her passion for writing fiction evolved from the unlikely world of hospice. As a volunteer, she set out to establish a Legacy Story program to honor and preserve the rich heritage of the fascinating people who were soon to leave this world. The meaningful experience inspired her to create her own interesting characters and stories.

Though born and raised in the Midwest, Loretta fell in love with New England and has made it the setting for much of her writing. When not whipping out words on her laptop, she is traveling, enjoying outdoor pursuits, or is curled up with a delicious new book. Loretta lives in Rhode Island with her husband, Geoffrey, and their beloved Mr. Peabody, a sweet, devoted and amusing “Corgador” (Corgi-Labrador cross).

Represented by Jill Grosjean Literary Agency


Giveaway Details:
1 winner will receive a one signed first edition copy of each book in the Haunted Bluffs Mystery Series - HOUSE OF ASHES &  STORM OF SECRETS in a book bag with book marks, US Only.

1 winner will receive an ebook of THE FOOL'S TRUTH, International.


18 November 2019

Jatin Kuberkar Interviewed


The Treasure Syndicate by Jatin Kuberkar

~ Book Tour ~

18th to 20th November




About the Book:

When Kaliyug resolved to enter Aryavatra, and encountered the lats Pandav, king a curse gave the world it's first 'Nidhi-Palak' or The Guardian of treasure Troves in the form of Lord Kuber's mortal son, Suta. In time, the Guardian bloodline scattered all over the world. Acharya Agnihotri is an astrologer. He searches for hidden treasures, to fulfill his destiny as a 'Nidhi-Palak'. Dr. Mahesh secretly finances missions for Acharya. Kumar is favored by unfathomable luck.. Jabbar is a legendary digger, and Srikanth is just a common man. United, they form the Treasure Syndicate, always a team of five; a motley mix with an uncanny balance. Bound by the elaborate framework of coincidence, destiny, and fate, the mission of the syndicate is not a cakewalk. The danger is real, and the conditions are never favorable. A hunting past awaits Acharya's team, as the Kaliyug threatens to turn the mission upside down.



Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon

Interview:
When did you decide to become a writer?
I never really decided that I will become a writer. It just happened over a period of 15 years.
The very first story I have ‘created’ was at a birthday party where I was assigned to look after a group of children. I narrated them a story that instantly flashed in my mind and everyone, including me was spelled bound.
After that, I started a blog and started writing stories for children. At the same time, random inspirations from the street of Hyderabad attracted me. There I began with compiling my observations which eventually turned out to be my first book – While I Was Waiting.
The response for the book encouraged me to write more… it instilled the confidence in me that I could write interesting stuff.

What are your ambitions for your writing career?
I just see myself as an author – not really viewing it as a career.
But, yes, I do have ambitions with no deadlines as such!
I want to write more. I want to experiment with different genre. Want to try non-fiction and write at least one book about philosophy/spirituality.

Give us an insight into your main character. What does he/she do that is so special?
One of the unique traits in my writing so far is that I really don’t believe in the protagonist-antagonist theory; I don’t brand anyone as good or bad. It is the story that drives the characters reactions to the given situations.
In my current book ‘The Treasure Syndicate’ the central character an Astrologer named ‘Acharya’. He is an old man with the knowledge of ages. He carries with him a distinct lineage that exists since the time Kaliyug set its foot on earth.
This character is special because:
Acharya ‘knows’ a lot of things, but he not ‘perfect’ at anything.
I wanted him to be that way, like every one of us, but he has the amount of perfection in him to readily accept his shortcomings. I mean, who does that now a days?

Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured?
Oh Yes! I can write a book about it!
I was only particular about being lonely while writing, with a constant burning of incense sticks.
But the scope aggravated as I was researching on my book regarding the effects of planets and stars.
I have made it a routine to think about new ideas on a full moon night, while adoring the moon. – seems to be working for me.
Otherwise, I don’t have a set routing or time to write!! 😊

Where do the ideas come from?
To me, Ideas come from either thinking in a reverse direction, or thinking beyond what is obvious.

Do you work to an outline or plot or do you prefer just see where an idea takes you?
The idea drives me until I carve out an outline. Then, I leave it aside for days. This gives my mind the required time to be practical about what I am writing. Then, when I re-read my outline, and if I am still able to connect with it, I continue writing on the subject else, it stays like that – sure to be picked up at some point of time (may be as a part of a larger work)

Any tips on how to get through the dreaded writer’s block?
I experience writer’s block quiet often… but over the period, I’ve realized that it is more of an indication that this is not what I should be writing. A percent of books that are incomplete in my list are all due to this. I guess, the god in me wants me to complete what he thinks is best for me… 😊

What can we expect from you down the line?
More books! More from the Treasure Syndicate, some non-fiction, some philosophy and a lot of entertainment!!


About the Author:

For the mortal world, I pretend to be a Software Engineer who works hard (or hardly?) in the hours of a day. I am the guy next door, a hard core Harry Potter fan and a movie buff. I literally ‘live’ every movie, I have strong opinions about its content and I hate it when a movie based on an interesting concept is messed up for the sake of commercial value. I enjoy watching cartoon shows (doremon, dora and Choota Bheem) with my son. I never get bored of listen to the endless chatter of my wife. When I’m not writing, I make toys for children.
But beyond the boundaries of this ‘cholesterol rich’ coil, I am a rider of rapturous thoughts. I am a thinker, a philosopher, a seeker, a story-teller, a writer, a wanderer and every other thing that a thought can be. At times some of these figments fire out of my thoughtful bowl and command me to write, muse, create, recreate, destroy…EXPRESS!
Who Am I? I have been asking this question to myself since 33 years, and I got a different answer always. Sometimes I get confused and think, am I asking the right question to seek the correct answer? or may be that am I missing the  whole fantastic universal drama around me while I am busy finding an answer to an irrelevant question?
Does the answer even matter?

Contact the Author:
Blog * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Goodreads


17 November 2019

Ratnadip Acharya Interviewed

The Speaking Stone by Ratnadip Acharya

~Book Tour~

11th to 17th November



About the Book:
Mumbai, December 2016: 
A young man found an ancient-looking piece of stone with strange images and Sanskrit inscriptions. A quest to know the origin of the stone brought him to the distant part of the country. 

Chandannagar, December 2016: 
A young vivacious historian woman read an old book on a century-old secret story about a little known part of the country. Her curiosity got the better of her as the book disappeared mysteriously before she could complete it. She reached a sleepy quaint state of the country to satiate her curiosity. 

Eventually they both met and their search began from the city museum to a far-flung rock mountain which revealed a century-old story of a seductive danseuse, her enigmatic lover, a string of her admirers, a painter with a photographic memory, a bird that could speak in many voices, a benevolent king and a gruesome conspiracy. And the most important clue to decode the final secret was with the missing part of The Speaking Stone. But in the process of unearthing old secrets their lives were also in danger… 

Book Links:


Interview:


Question: When did you decide to become a writer? 
Answer: As I understand, almost all the authors are doing something more(apart from writing) to make a living. So an author/writer is not someone whose only entity is that he/she is a writer. Well, in my case the desire for writing sparked (I am an electrical engineer with a complete technical background) in early twenties when I devoured the short story of Guy De Maupassent, Tagore and O Henry. The surprise ending in their stories left me simply awestruck. I realized greatest stories can be spun from ordinary lives. I became a better observer (as I feel) and felt that I could voice my thoughts in words and thus the journey began.

Question: What are your ambitions for your writing career? 
Answer: I l write with love; unless an idea overwhelms me usually I don’t write it. And when you write with total love, you want to be read. I am already financially comfortably off, hence no monetary ambition from writing.

Question: Give us an insight into your main character. What does he/she do that is so special? 
Answer: Look, I have written three novels. The first one, Life is always aimless…  is a love story and the protagonist dreams of becoming an author one day; a young man with all doubts and confusion in whom we all can find a glimpse of ours.
In the second novel, Paradise Lost & regained, the protagonist is a deer who narrates its life in first person singular. This novel is a grand flight of imagination, and I see my self-projection in that little deer.
And third novel, The Speaking Stone, has two protagonists, Shuvashini and Saikat, again both the characters are formed from people I met in real life hence they are very special to me. Besides, they also know that I took the liberty of using their characters to manufacture this large novel.
  
Question: Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured? 
Answer: I usually prefer to write at night, chiefly post ten pm when there is an agreeable silence around.  During holidays, at times, I work during day, too. But again, night time is my favourite. Before getting into writing, I invariably note down the major events which will be the spine of basic storyline chronologically. It affords me to complete the writing faster.

Question: Where do the ideas come from? 
Answer: I don’t know. I don’t think any sincere author can answer this question. All I have to do is keep my being open, and ideas pour in from all around, barely few of them I write and the rest remain with me. When you write keeping your readers in mind and the kind of stuff they love to read, and produce the same sorts of stuff, you can answer from you get the ideas, otherwise no author can answer it.

Question: Do you work to an outline or plot or do you prefer just see where an idea takes you? 
Answer: Usually, I write a meticulous outline for without it, it is difficult to write a large novel. However, at times, the flow of events makes the story move this way or that.

Question: Any tips on how to get through the dreaded writer’s block? 
Answer: Give yourself time, let silence be your best friend for a while and eventually you will break the writer’s block and come up with a better way to take your writing project ahead.

Question: What can we expect from you down the line? 
Answer: The first and foremost is that there will be no commonplace storyline. Whether it is mystery novel or a work on life it will be an extremely original work with lots of surprise element.



About the Author:


Ratnadip Acharya is the author of two successful novels, Life is Always Aimless... Unless you love it and Paradise Lost & Regained. He is a columnist for the Speaking Tree in The Times of India. He contributed many write-ups in different collections of Chicken Soup for the Soul. He lives in Mumbai with his wife, Sophia and son, Akash.




Contact the Author:



16 November 2019

The Legend of Deputy Jim by Dan E.Hendrickson


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The Last Enemy Series, Prequel
Crime / Action / Mystery
Date Published: September 2019

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Jim Edwards always thought he'd join the military when he graduated from high school. But then he snuck off and married his high school sweetheart the middle of their senior year and his wife Linda got pregnant right away. Jim did not want to leave his new family and get deployed halfway around the world, but he still wanted to serve his country. That’s when he decided to go into law enforcement. He talked to his dad about it and he reached out to and old friend for his son. Sheriff George Manning of Sheridan County Wyoming told him that if Jim went to Junior College and got an associate’s degree in criminal justice he would give him a chance in his department. Jim worked nights and weekends for two years at a local restaurant to support his young family and also got his degree at Sheridan Community College. Jim was also a damn good heavy weight amateur boxer in Wyoming and even tied the State Champ in a local match before joining the department.

Jim rescued Sheriff Manning and a couple of civilians from a bunch of bikers that had them cornered on a mountain road just before he joined the Department. Later when one of them threatened his wife and child in retaliation Jim's temper got the best of him and he throws the biker a beating he won’t ever forget. That starts a series of events that pits Deputy Jim Edwards against the notorious Wild Wolves’ Biker Gang and its two leaders. Now Jim has a big problem and even though Sheriff Manning and his top Lt. Al Freeburger think that Jim is the best Deputy they've ever had they don't know if Jim can survive the Wolves vendetta against him. Jim finds himself pitted against not only a notorious biker gang but South American cartels, and corrupt politicians. Jim is smart and good, but he is also young and inexperienced. When it comes to his family’s safety he won’t compromise and he won’t back down. His enemies know this and will try to use this against him. They are going to lure the young Lawman into a death trap and all Jim has is his grit and his wits to see him through.

But this all happened back in 1974, and Jim Edwards is alive and well. He has just recently returned from helping rescue his son, Commander Jacob Edwards from Maximillian’s prison down in Central America. Captain Tommy Williams the leader of the rescue has known for a long time that there is something very interesting about Jims past service in the Sheridan County Sheriff’s Department. So he uses and opportunity to visit that town with the Edwards family to go there and find out for himself why some "old law dogs" around Sheridan still call it "The Legend of Deputy Jim".



Other Books in the The Last Enemy Series:



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The Good Fight
The Last Enemy, Book 1
Published: December 2018


Danielle Edwards is no damsel in distress, she's got some big shoes to fill. Being the daughter of the hero of Cozumel Commander Jacob Edwards of the United States Coast Guard put a target on her back. Now she is in the fight of her life. Her parents have been gone for three years. Can she rise up and be what she needs to be. It's going to be a good fight.




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The Cartel Crusher
The Last Enemy, Book 2
Published: December 2018


Marnia Gonzalez, oldest daughter of one of Mexico's most popular Presidents, is rescued at sea from being raped and killed by a cartel connected Caribbean pirate, Dominik Thrace. Her rescuer, Commander Jacob Edwards of the U.S. Coast Guard, known as the "Hero of Cozumel" in Mexico, befriends her. The Cozumel incident causes Marnia to abandon her destiny of becoming a well-connected, high-society powerful woman in politics. Once content with being a member of Mexico's influential, elite upper-class, she decides instead to be like her hero and fight against evil no matter the cost. Her sights are set on the cartels that terrorize people and breed ruthless monsters like Thrace. She fights against expectations of female roles as she graduates from Mexico's Heroic Military Academy and becomes an officer in the newly formed Anti-Cartel Task Force. Not allowing anyone or anything to hold her back for being a woman, she takes on the ruthless cartels in their own backyards and proves herself capable, becoming called by the people, "The Cartel Crusher". While investigating cartel child sex-slave trafficking, she comes face-to-face with the reality that her own mother's family is the more significant secret power behind the cartels. As she turns her attention to Mexico's most powerful Santiago cartel, a rising power in the secret society orders her death. As the remaining cartels unite to take her down, will she be able to trust her relationship with the son of one of the South American rival crime bosses? Will he help her, as promised, or betray her? She needs to dig deeper than ever before to withstand the combined onslaught. Will Santiago prevail yet again, or will Marnia survive the mass assassination? The future of her hero's family depends on her more than she yet knows.




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The Last Enemy
The Last Enemy, Book 3
Published: July 2019


Danielle Edwards and Marnia Gonzalez have one huge thing in common. They both adored, loved, and looked up to Commander Jacob Edwards. Although Jacob is Danielle's real father and not Marnia's she still looks to Jacob as a father figure. Danielle was raised by the Hero of Cozumel and Marnia had her life saved by him. He has deeply impressed both of these young women with a high moral compass and a passion to do what is right no matter the cost. Now, after three years of believing he is dead Marnia has found proof of his being alive. Not only Jacob, but his wife, and mother somehow survived the tragic plane crash over the pacific ocean three years earlier. In book three, The Last Enemy, these two incredible women will join forces and along with the help of family, friends, and one of the most formidable Seal Team commanders alive embark on a quest to rescue The Hero of Cozumel.



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About the Author

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Dan Hendrickson was born in Sheridan Wyoming near the rustic Big Horn mountain range in 1962 to Carl and Helen Hendrickson. Dan went to school in the Sheridan School District graduating from Sheridan High School in 1981. He spent his athletic time participating in boxing, martial arts, wrestling and a little track. His father Carl owned a small eight lane bowling alley that he ran until Dan was 12 years old. After losing the business to the bank he was forced to go back to school and finish his masters in English. Dan picked up on his father’s love of the written word and enrolled in Casper Community College in 1982 majoring in journalism. Although he found that he had an aptitude for investigative reporting he decided that his desires lied in other areas. He went on to do much volunteer Christian ministry work throughout the United States most of his adult life and continues to pursue those endeavors to this day. During that time he gained another degree in Practical Theology and throughout his many ministry assignments work several secular jobs. Most notable were his auto detailing endeavors. He and his wife Cheryl have owned three different detailing businesses throughout the country the last of which they still run to this day. Recently he has returned to his passion of telling stories and has several books in the process of being published.



Contact Links

Website  
Twitter  



Purchase Links

B&N  
Kobo  
RABT Book Tours & PR

Death and Conspiracy by Seeley James

Death and Conspiracy by Seeley James Banner

Death and Conspiracy

by Seeley James

on Tour November 11 - December 6, 2019

Synopsis:

Death and Conspiracy by Seeley James

Is Jacob Stearne a terrorist or a hero?

After fabled Ranger Jacob Stearne kills two terrorists before they can shoot hundreds of worshippers, he’s sent undercover to disrupt their neo-Nazi group’s plans for a global religious war. But the CIA agent who sends him on his mission may not be who he claims.

In his search for the dangerous terrorists, Jacob finds himself manipulated by international agencies, used gods, potential lovers, and racists alike. Everyone wants him to believe something he doesn’t. While infiltrating a neo-Nazi gathering, he must handle both warring factions and authorities who believe he’s the real terrorist.

Death & Conspiracy poses the question: Could you befriend white supremacists to stop mass-shootings?

Book Details:

Genre: Action/Adventure
Published by: Machined Media
Publication Date: September 24th 2019
Number of Pages: 303
ISBN: 9781732238886
Series:Sabel Security Book 7
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH MY girlfriend.
I trudged along the stone-paved streets at dawn wearing my blue jeans and black leather jacket over a t-shirt that read, “That which does not kill me—should run.” I was thinking things over. There were no real indicators I could put my finger on, but when I said we should step out for coffee, she offered to join me “later.” Something in her tone of voice. Something in her distant gaze.
What happened? Last night we were thirsty for each other. I did my Julius Caesar impression, Vini, Vidi, Vici. She channeled the Whore of Babylon. Laughter and romping ensued.
This morning, she was different.
A shop lady dragged a stand filled with bouquets onto the sidewalk in front of her store. Figuring flowers might perk Jenny up, I picked one. The lady took one look at my face, smiled, and told me they were free for lovers. At least, I think that’s what she said. I studied Arabic and Pashto to get me through my eight tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan. French never came up. I thanked her, sniffed the bouquet, and kept strolling.
We’d had a whirlwind romance, the kind you read about in books. If you read that kind of book. Which I don’t. So, I guess it was how I imagined a storybook romance goes. I’d saved her mother’s life, which led to Jenny getting a pardon. As soon as she got out of prison, she came to my house to say thank you in person. Come to think of it, that doesn’t sound like a storybook romance at all. Anyway. One thing led to another. Two weeks later, I invited her for a getaway weekend. I was thinking something like a bed-and-breakfast in the Shenandoah Valley. Cozy and affordable and nearby.
Then I made the mistake of telling my boss, Pia Sabel, about my plans. She thought Jenny Jenkins would prefer Paris. After all, Jenny’s the daughter of Bobby Jenkins, the billionaire drug lord—I mean, founder of Jenkins Pharmaceuticals. Since no one can say no to Ms. Sabel, especially when she insists on paying and providing a private jet, the next thing I knew we were in Paris, staying in the Hotel Lutetia on the Left Bank.
It turned out Jenny had been to Paris so many times it was like going to Walgreens. Her dad rented out Napoleon’s Tomb for her ninth birthday. For my ninth, Dad filled a barn bin with dried soybeans so we could jump in them. Things are different for farm boys in Iowa.
There was an upside. Instead of going to see the fire damage at Notre Dame or visiting the Louvre, she wanted to spend the entire trip in bed. I was fine with that.
Then this morning happened.
My brain came back to the street in front of me. Two men hauled tables and chairs out of a café and placed them on the sidewalk. I put my flowers on a table and dropped into a wicker chair. One of the men said something about not being open yet, but the other guy pulled him away.
I said, What did I do wrong? I made sure she was satisfied several times over. Wait. She wasn’t faking it, was she?
Mercury, winged messenger of the Roman gods, pulled up a chair next to me. If she be faking an orgasm when you’re going downtown like a Detroit rapper, who is she cheating?
Sometimes it’s nice to have a god you can chat with. Most of them are invisible and mute. I enjoy our little chats. Sometimes. But every now and then, the diagnosis of my Army psychiatrists rolls through my head like a thunderstorm. “PTSD-induced schizophrenia,” they said. Yeah. Well. What do they know? The guys who served with me in combat considered me divinely inspired.
Mercury first came to my aid in a battle where a company of Iraqi Republican Guards had pinned down a Marine platoon. I’d been separated from my Army Ranger unit and snuck through the combat zone lost, scared, and confused. With Mercury whispering in my ear, telling me where to aim, I took out half the Iraqis attacking the Marines and scattered the rest. The Marines loved me. I got medals. From then on, my heavenly powers on the battlefield made me the soldier’s soldier. Everybody wanted to transfer to my platoon.
All Mercury wanted was a return to his former glory. Just kick Christianity to the curb and reinstate the whole Roman pantheon. No problem. After fifteen hundred years, he and his buddies were done with living on food stamps and desperate for a reunion tour.
I said, Is it me? Too much of a socio-economic divide?
Mercury leaned in. You want a woman like that, brutha? Really want a woman like that? Then you gotta think like a Caesar.
I said, I’m her master and commander in the bedroom.
Sheeyit, dawg. Mercury rolled his eyes and leaned back. (Did I mention he’s black? He cites the Judeo-Christian Bible, where it says God made man in His image. Mercury points out that the Great Leap Forward happened in Southern Africa. There were no white people in Southern Africa in the days of Adam and Eve. Therefore, all gods are black. Yeah, took me a while too.) I’m talking real Caesar, not just another white dude whipping out some cheap leather gear in a hotel room. I’m talking invading nations, burning villages, raping, pillaging…
And that’s where I tune him out. Certain aspects of civilized behavior have changed a good deal since he whispered in the ears of the rich and powerful. I texted Jenny that I was waiting for her at the Café de la Mairie. She didn’t reply.
Ever listen to some old guy go on about winning the state championship back in high school? Try spending an hour listening to a used god talk about the good ol’ days when Julius Caesar defeated the official Roman Army under Pompey—not because he should but because he could.
Mercury said, And that’s how Julius Caesar became emperor. The lesson here is: Kill everyone who defies you.
I said, How’d that work out for ol’ Julius in the end?
The streets began to fill with enough vehicles to start the rhythmic honking cycles peculiar to big cities. It sounded a lot like that Broadway tune by George Gershwin. What was it called? “An American in …” somewhere.
There were no texts from Jenny on my phone when I checked for the three hundredth time. I sent her a picture of the menu and asked if she wanted me to order for her. No response.
Mercury said, There they go again. Those two clowns been circling the block all morning, dressed like Siberians.
I had a croissant with jam and a coffee. Alone.
Are you listening to me, homie?
Mercury’s supposed to be the god of eloquence, but tutoring William Shakespeare five hundred years ago didn’t work out for his resurrection, so he tried channeling inner-city kids. He thinks he sounds like Dr. Dre, but he comes off more like Eminem will in forty years. Desperately dated.
I’m telling you, Mercury said, those two are your ticket to fame. You kill them, and the press will love you. Glory will be ours!
Having lost track of which two people he wanted me to kill, I said, Jenny doesn’t care about glory.
The sun rose higher in the sky. The waiter brought more coffee. People going places began to fill the sidewalk. Singles, couples, families. It was Sunday, and many of them were filing into one big-ass church across the street.
Mercury said, What’s the big deal about this here girl has you so distracted, brutha?
I said, Remember when I rescued her mom from the assassins? Before her mom was VP, she was an admiral. And brass tends to expect a concierge rescue. But not Admiral Wilkes. She fought and ran and knocked out bad guys like a superhero. That woman was determined to get out of there. I was impressed. When Jenny showed up, I realized the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. She was just as determined and driven as her mom. A woman like that, you can build a life together. A real partnership. The two of us working out family, friends, and careers together. We could grow old without the flame dying out.
Mercury said, Determined? Driven? You really want a woman like that, dude? Nothing but trouble if you ask me. In my day, women didn’t read, they didn’t vote, they didn’t talk back. We had a good thing going and y’all messed it up.
My phone’s screen was blank. Still no word from Jenny.
I said, Maybe she needs something more than just sex?
Mercury said, What else is there?
I dunno, I said. Like therapy or something. She had a traumatic year. Maybe she needs help with her mental health.
Mercury said, What would you know about mental health?
The waiter brought a vase for my bouquet. It was wilting. I gave him a nod. “Merci.”
Pretty much the extent of my French vocabulary.
I was stuck. If I went back now, I’d look insecure, worried. If I kept my cool, acted unconcerned, maybe she’d come around. Maybe she’d text me back.
I hate playing games like that. Unless I win.
See here now, bro. You need to take down those terrorists with the two coats. Mercury nodded at the men he’d pointed out earlier. You can be a hero again.
I said, What makes you think they’re terrorists?
Mercury said, They radiate hate.
Across the lane was a large, open plaza. In the center stood a massive chunk of marble with statues of ancient Frenchmen in niches surrounded by water splashing from a central fountain. The Frenchmen were probably important at some point in the history of the area, but now they were just a backdrop for selfies.
Two guys stood next to the fountain. They stole glances at the cathedral doors. They had jet black hair and beards. One had a swarthy, Mediterranean look. The other looked distinctly American. They kept their heads down, their hands shoved in their coat pockets. Their overcoats were heavy enough for winter, but it was a sunny spring day.
Maybe Jenny was worried about the paparazzi. We’d been swarmed outside the hotel. Again later when we went out to dinner. Neither of us is a celebrity, but her divorced parents are minor tabloid material. Jenkins Pharma sold a questionable number of opiates, and her mom is the Vice President of the United States. Which is why there’d been plenty of controversy over Jenny’s pardon.
The paparazzi couldn’t be it. I’d shared Ms. Sabel’s advice for dealing with tabloid photographers with Jenny. Ms. Sabel told me to smile for the cameras because (a) they hate that, and (b) they’ll print it anyway so you may as well look good. Jenny still hated them.
I thought about going to church. I checked the name of the one across the street. Église Saint-Sulpice. I invited Jenny in a text. We hadn’t discussed religion, and she didn’t seem the type, but if she was mad at me, where better to work things out? She was the kind of woman worth working things out for. The kind worth having an intimate relationship with. Someone you could tell all your secrets to. Or is it, someone to whom you could tell all your secrets? I never get that stuff right. Maybe she didn’t like my grammar.
Mercury grabbed my hair and pulled my head up out of my phone. He pointed at the two guys. Quit thinking about getting laid and ask yourself the million-dollar question: why two coats?
Shoplifters wear overcoats. It gives them room for all their stolen merchandise. So do mass shooters. Coats cover weapons.
The shorter guy fiddled with a string of beads. Sweat dripped from his forehead. He mumbled to himself. The American looked calmer, yet significantly more agitated than your average churchgoer. My military training included a good deal about recognizing terrorists. They often say prayers. They’re often quite nervous. They often sulk to avoid notice.
Either these two were sinners in desperate need of redemption … or they were terrorists.
I found myself crossing the street, heading for the fountain. At the same time, the two men headed for the church. As he pushed off, the short guy tossed his beads into the water.
It was a wide plaza, and they had a shorter distance. I changed course to intercept them. Being unarmed put me at a disadvantage. But they had the terrorist’s tunnel vision. Their eyes remained glued to the entrance. Nothing around them mattered anymore.
A few people in nice clothes funneled up the steps and filed through the massive front door, each taking a bulletin from the greeters. None of them wore more than a light sport coat.
The overcoat guys slowed and hung back. When the funnel cleared, the greeters at the door waited. The overcoat guys trotted up the steps and entered without taking the offered bulletin. Without a bulletin, they would have no idea which hymns to sing. Definitely terrorists.
I bounded up the steps, full throttle.
***
Excerpt from Death and Conspiracy by Seeley James. Copyright 2019 by Seeley James. Reproduced with permission from Machined Media. All rights reserved.



Author Bio:

Seeley James
His near-death experiences range from talking a jealous husband into putting the gun down to spinning out on an icy freeway in heavy traffic without touching anything. His resume ranges from washing dishes to global technology management. His personal life ranges from homeless at 17, adopting a 3-year-old at 19, getting married at 37, fathering his last child at 43, hiking the Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim at 59, and taking the occasional nap.
Seeley's love of creativity began at an early age, growing up at Frank Lloyd Wright’s School of Architecture in Arizona and Wisconsin. He carried his imagination first into a successful career in sales and marketing, and then to his real love: fiction.
His writing career ranges from humble beginnings with short stories in The Battered Suitcase, to being awarded a Medallion from the Book Readers Appreciation Group. Seeley is best known for his Sabel Security series of thrillers featuring athlete and heiress Pia Sabel and her bodyguard, veteran Jacob Stearne. One of them kicks ass and the other talks to the wrong god.

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15 November 2019

The Tragic + Divine by Melody Felix-Prieto


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THE TRAGIC + DIVINE, Book 1
Young Adult Paranormal Romance
Published Date: 11.29.19 2nd Edition
Publisher: INtense Publications LLC


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Alexis Minerva has never been the type to cause trouble. With good grades, and a clean school record, she's on the track to move out of Dixon-a small town with even smaller minded people.

But on the night before her 17th birthday, she meets Milo James-a sexy, mysterious angel with a thirst for danger who represents a mother's worst nightmare. From the moment her eyes locked with his, there was an undeniable connection she couldn't shake off.

Convinced she'll never see Milo again, Alexis goes back to her mundane world counting down the days until graduation. Then one day, Milo shows up in Dixon unexpectedly rocking the small community.

Determined not to follow in her sister's footsteps despite Priscilla's troubled past haunting her every move, Alexis tries her best to avoid Milo, even though he seems to be everywhere she goes. But a chilling phone call from her sister changes everything. Now she must step into Milo's world to find her sister-a fast-paced world filled with less-than-holy activities and late-night wild parties.

As the tension intensifies between Alexis and Milo, Alexis discovers a dark secret that threatens to tear them apart setting off events that will change her life forever.


About the Author

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MELODY FELIX-PRIETO lives in Georgia with her husband and two children. When she isn't writing, you can find her taking photographs, editing video projects, or watching movies. THE TRAGIC + DIVINE is her debut novel. Visit her online at www.melodyfelixprieto.com.



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Viral Dreams by John Saenger

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Suspense
Date to be Published: 11/22/19

But there in the forest…that’s where it all began…

Max Tyler, single father and former SWAT team leader, and Beth Collins, brilliant infectious disease specialist, rush headlong into an accelerating vortex of intrigue and danger to rescue Max’s kidnapped daughter, Megan, from the final steps of a horrific genetic manipulation experiment.

VIRAL DREAMS rockets in pace and intensity, captivating and propelling the reader on a kaleidoscopic journey of mystery, suspense, and wonder.





Excerpt

“Run your fastest, Megan…we’ve gotta hurry!”  The man had a tight grip on the hand of his nine-year-old daughter and was pulling her through the forest, weaving between the tall Douglas fir and Ponderosa pine trees that towered above them.  It was late in the afternoon, and they were far from the hiking path that circled Crystal Lake, one of the popular camping areas five miles north of Mammoth Lakes, California.  Sunlight filtered down through the trees, scattered into subdued beams by the dense pine branches that formed the high arboreal canopy.  It would be dusk in less than an hour.    But it wasn’t the dark Max Tyler was afraid of.

            “Daddy, you’re bleeding!” Megan said in a scared, breathless voice.  She was sprinting at top speed and gasping for air. 

            Max glanced back at her and the blood streaming down his left arm.  It was coming from a knife slash that had left a three-inch long gash through his tee shirt and left shoulder.  His shirtsleeve was soaked bright red, and the rivulets of blood had almost reached his wrist.

            “It’s nothing, Megs…just a little cut.  C’mon. We’ve gotta get out of here.”

            He pulled her along as he scrambled through the thick forest of trees, trying his best to lead them in the direction of their campsite.  His mind was racing.  Adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream and fueled the powerful, rapid thundering of his heart.

            He mentally replayed the events the last ten minutes.  What they had just witnessed seemed impossible, surreal…

Megan was gathering a small posy of tiny white flowers while he leaned against a fallen tree, watching her.  They had decided to take a short hike before dinner.  They’d found a trail that wrapped around the north end of the lake and strolled along the dirt path through the trees for fifteen minutes before coming across a glade blanketed with spring flowers.



It was early summer. The mountainous terrain boasted one of the best ski resorts in California during the winter. But this time of year, the days were mild. He and Megan were on a weekend camping trip, the first of several he’d planned for the summer and fall, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

 It felt good to get away and bring her up here into the pristine sanctuary and quiet serenity of this towering primeval forest.  The redolent sights and smells filled his senses, refreshing and renewing him as only the mountains could.

He looked away from her for a second to take in the tranquility of the glassy mountain lake a hundred yards to his left. He heard a small, muffled yelp. It was so soft it barely registered in his mind. Glancing back toward Megan, he caught a fleeting glimpse of her disappearing behind a copse of young pine trees, feet kicking in the air and arms flailing. Her mouth was covered by the hand of the burly man carrying her.

“Hey…Stop!” Max shouted in a booming voice. He sprang forward, covering the distance to where Megan disappeared in a matter of seconds, and raced behind the copse.

The man ran over a ridge and disappeared from sight.

“Stop!” Max roared, doubling his pace. He reached the ridge, ran down the slope, and leaped at the man, sweeping his feet out from under him and grabbing Megan before she could hit the ground.

The man sprung to his feet, pulled a hunting knife from a sheath on his belt, and rushed toward Max, who set Megan down and turned to face him. The man slashed with the knife, slicing Max’s left shoulder as Max pivoted and launched a powerful, right thrusting kick at the man’s knee. There was a sickening crunch, and the man, who easily outweighed Max by thirty pounds, cried out and crumpled to the ground. His knife clattered against an outcropping of rocks and skittered out of sight.

“Come on, Megs!” Max picked her up and ran at full speed through the trees, avoiding the path but heading in the direction of their campsite. The attacker’s moans faded as Max put distance between them. He bolted at top speed through the trees until his arms began burning. Then he set Megan down, grabbed her hand, and ran towards their campsite, towards safety, less than a quarter of a mile away.

The man was sweating profusely when he reached the Jeep parked on a narrow dirt fire road used by the forest service. The knee of his left leg had swollen to more than twice its normal size, and he was exhausted from hopping half a mile on his good leg through rugged, uneven terrain.

He opened the door of his Jeep and pulled himself up onto the front seat. He couldn’t touch his left knee without piercing jolts of pain shooting up his leg. He unlocked the glove compartment, pulled out a cell phone with push-to-talk, and switched it on.

 “Nick, you there?  Come in!”  he barked.

“I’m here,” a voice responded.  “Didja’ get her?”

“No, damn it.  I had her.  Then her father came out of nowhere and attacked.  I sliced up his shoulder, but he broke my knee and took the girl.  Go to plan B.”

“Got it.  Plan B.  Leave your unit on.  I’ll contact you.  Out.”

The man tossed the cell phone on the seat beside him and winced as he shifted his weight to pull the keys out of his pocket.  He was outraged that Max had gotten the better of him. How was it that a guy half his size and nowhere near his muscular prowess had managed to take him down and snatch the girl? He didn’t lose fights. Ever.

  He fumbled with his keys for a moment before slipping the correct key into the Jeep’s ignition and placing his hand on the black knob of the stick shift. Only then did reality slap him hard as he looked down and stared at the clutch pedal under his broken left leg.

This was not going to be easy.


About the Author

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John has worked in the medical field of Oncology Therapeutics for several years, and is currently an Immuno-Oncology Team Lead in US Oncology Medical Affairs for a major pharmaceutical company located in North Wales, Pennsylvania. Writing is a major passion of his life.



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