[Book Blitz]: Two for the Road by Henry Hoffman

An Adam Fraley Mystery

Genre: Mystery, Crime Mystery

Published: September 2020

Publisher: Melange Books

Private investigator Adam Fraley and his colleague, Tamra Fugit, the woman to whom he is engaged, travel vastly different paths, as they take on two seemingly unrelated missing person cases.

The trails take them through idyllic lands darkened by underworld intrigue, twisted relationships. carnal temptation, physical danger, and personal tragedy. Such are the legal ramifications they confront during their crossing of both state and international boundaries, that the FBI is eventually drawn into the matter.

From the very beginning, little did the investigators realize that the two roads they were travelling eventually would come crashing together in a manner entirely unexpected, testing not only their professional skills and resolve, but their personal faith in each other.

Excerpt

Chapter One

April 1997

The paramount lesson Adam Fraley learned early on in the private investigation business was to place a premium on case selection. Much like personnel hiring, you want to make sure you take on the right case, just as you would the right person, lest you end up drowned in disappointment and endless damage control. Fortunately, he had thus far successfully managed this aspect of the business. First, by hiring Tamra Fugit several years ago as his office manager. Secondly, by relying on her knack for making the right choices. Still, no selection system was foolproof. As an old boss of his was fond of saying, “You can only ride horses so many times before you get bucked off one.” Consequently, the admonition was always in the back of his mind when he and she met for their regular Monday morning caseload review.

“What’s on the agenda?” he asked from a visitor’s chair positioned in front of her desk.

“Two cases—one for you and one for me,” she said, working her desktop computer.

He halted in mid-motion the sip of coffee he was about to take to look askance at her.

She swiveled her chair to face him. “I’ve assisted you in nearly every case we’ve taken on since I was hired here, Adam. And thanks to your generosity, I will soon own half of the business. No better time for me to start taking half ownership of some of the cases, don’t you agree?”

“By ownership you mean taking to the street—the actual gumshoe part.”

“Yes…surveillance and tracking.”

“Who’s going to take care of the office end of it while we’re out gumshoeing?” he asked, carefully setting his coffee cup on her desk.

“Think of it this way,” she replied. “As with the modern family, the mother sometimes stays home to tend to the house and kids while the father is at work. Conversely, the husband stays home while the working wife takes to the road. We are destined to become a family business, are we not?”

“You’re looking terrific today,” he abruptly said to the woman who would have to be subjected to prolonged physical duress, say like an extended hike through the Mohave desert, to look bad—the woman, by the way, he happened to be betrothed to. But for her presence, the Adam Fraley Private Investigations office could best be described as nondescript, he opined.

“Do you realize your auburn hair, beautiful green eyes, and bright yellow dress offset very well the dull cast of this office?” he continued.

“You’re digressing,” she said. “Or are you stalling?”

“Okay, what are the two?” he asked in resignation.

“The first is for you,” she said, sorting through some notes on her desk. “I received a call from a woman by the name of Carmen Rivera. She was calling from Bogota, Colombia, where she lives. She has a son by the name of Manny who is attending Coastal State College here. She and her husband have not heard from Manny in over a month. Normally, he checks in with them at least once or twice a week. He lives in an off-campus home which he shares with another student who, for whatever reason, claims no knowledge of his whereabouts.”

“She’s contacted the cops?”

“Yes, and received the standard reply. Since he is an adult and there is no evidence of foul play, they will not get involved at this point.”

“We should send the department a thank you note, considering how much business that policy of theirs generates for us. You have the address for the kid?”

She again scrambled through the notes on her desk, picked one out and handed it to him. “Here you go.”

“Before we get started, how are we handling the fees? It’s not like we have a history of job requests from overseas on which to draw from. In fact, we have no history of it…right?”

“Correct,” she said. “However, if we do take the case, she will wire us a down payment upfront with the remainder to follow once we have concluded our investigation.”

“What do you think?” he asked. “Legitimate?”

“She spoke in a very cultured voice and with a mother’s concern. My sense is the Rivera family could very well be one of the five percent of the populace who control the wealth of the country.”

“Five percent…is that a fact or your opinion?”

“It comes from a former roommate of mine who spent a half year in the country.”

“Doing what?”

“Studying the Colombia rainforest region.”

“For what?”

“Six course credits,” she cracked. “She was in a study abroad program.”

“Well, it’s not likely we’re going to break the parents financially,” he said. “And the second case—the one you’ve put a claim to?”

Tamra glanced at another note on her desk. “I received a call from a man named Mickey Riley. He says his sister went missing about four weeks ago. He wants us to find her.”

“Let me guess…the cops don’t want to get involved because she is an adult and there is no evidence of foul play.”

“You got it.”

“So, does Mickey have any idea where his sister might be?”

“With her husband somewhere, he says.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Adam asked, no doubt repeating the same question the cops asked the brother.

“According to Mickey, the husband, himself, is a bad thing…a very bad thing. Apparently, his sister has become a virtual prisoner of her husband, to the point he won’t even let her out of the house. A control freak, to say the least.”

“So, you aim to free her?”

“I aim to find her. It’s up to the brother to free her. He’s coming in for a meeting this afternoon. I should know more then, including where would be a good place to start looking for her. Meanwhile, your mother called. She’d like to know if we want a wedding planner. If so, she knows of a good one.”

“We’ve already decided we don’t need one, don’t you remember?”

“I certainly do, but apparently you failed to pass that bit of info along to her.”

“I’ll tell her when we finish with these two cases,” he sighed, perturbed by his oversight.

“You know, this will be a good time to go on the road,” he followed. “Noelle will be on her school-sponsored camping trip. We should be home by the time she returns.”

“If all goes well,” Tamra responded with a deadpan expression.

Adam leaned across the desk. “I have a proposition for you. How about we flip the cases? You trail after the missing student and I chase after the missing sister? You know how volatile these simmering domestic situations can get. They’re invariably about some demented guy’s passion to control another, usually a helpless woman, like the one you describe in this case. The moment you show up, you become a threat to take away that control. Needless to say, he’s not going to like that at all.”

“Are you worried for my safety? Would you rather I go chasing after porch poachers…sit in the car for hours on end waiting for a home delivery to be stolen? We still have one of those requests on the back burner waiting for a decision.”

“No, I’m not worried for your safety. It’s the safety of the captive wife’s husband, I’m worried about,” he joshed, rising from his chair to give her a quick kiss, followed by a longer one, before heading out of the office. “Before you leave, I have two other items to run by you,” she said, halting his movement.

“Okay…the first?”

“Harold Jenkins, the attorney from The Justice Brigade called. He wants to know if you’d like to meet with him regarding the merger idea that he discussed with you over the phone a while back.”

Adam slipped back into the chair, indicating it was a subject requiring immediate attention. “What do you think?” he asked of her.

Tamra gave a slight shrug. “I remember you mentioned the idea at the time. Run it by me again.”

“They’re interested in bringing us into their fold via some sort of a partnership, whether it be a corporate takeover, merger, or retainer-type arrangement. Whatever it takes to get us on board.”

“A big operation like theirs? What for?”

“Law firms have a need for tracking missing persons or conducting background checks, as you well know…”

“Yes, we’ve conducted several for them recently,” she interjected.

“Right, and apparently they liked the results. The Justice Brigade is one of those young, aggressive, fast-growing firms looking to gain a leg up on their competition. It’s not like they don’t have many law firms to compete with.”

Tamra flashed a look of surprise. “By doing their own detective work?”

“My guess is they’re planning to become a one-stop shopping operation, so to speak.”

“What’s in it for us?”

“Well, it could mean a steady work flow, which is no small matter. Looking down the road a way, there’s Noelle’s college tuition costs looming on the horizon. Right now, we’re operating at a small profit margin, enough to keep us afloat for the time being. However, as you and I have discussed, we’ve reached the stage where we’re either going to have to raise production or raise prices. I have a hunch joining forces with the Justice Brigade would lessen our office management burden significantly. Taking on the bulk of our paperwork would be an insignificant addition to their overall workload. Doing so would allow us to concentrate on the detective work.”

“You’re making it sound like—what do they call it in the business world—a white knight coming to the rescue. I don’t see it as magnanimous move on their part, Adam. They are simply making a business pitch.”

“Oh, I agree, but at the moment we’re discussing potential benefits, not the drawbacks. Jenkins also pointed out we would be working under their legal umbrella.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning they would provide us free legal service, both personal and professional. And depending on the business arrangement, perhaps even corporate benefits, like retirement plans, something foreign to us.”

“Adam, we may be gaining corporate benefits, but would we not be losing our corporate identity?”

“That’s going to depend on the details of the proposed agreement. The question is how much independence we would be surrendering, starting with the case selection process. Who is going to have the final say on which ones we take on?”

“I do see one potential benefit in that regard,” Tamra opined. “They could serve as a filter to the possible legal landmines of each case. There are always those we have to consider.”

“True, but then there are other issues—potential conflicts of interest, the need to report to a supervisor, how it may affect the positive relationship we’ve developed with local law enforcement officials over the years—not to mention the more logistical items like office location. No question, there would be details galore to be worked out. Perhaps not so many if it was a retainer-type agreement, which could suffice, for all we know.”

“Something along the lines of a rental car company operating in the maintenance section of a car dealership,” Tamra suggested. “Have you consulted with your old boss on this?”

“Pete? No, though I definitely intend to before any final decision is made.”

Adam was already having second thoughts on the proposed relationship, particularly its impact on the freedom of choice regarding the case selection guidelines. Currently, the procedure was greatly influenced by their location. They were operating out of a street-level office situated on the corner of a moderately busy street. Walk-in traffic was steady—granted, not always a good thing for a P.I. outfit. It led to a significant amount of “impulse buying,” which was not in tune with most of the trade’s target base. Passersby would spot the store sign and on the spur of the moment decide they would rid themselves of lingering suspicions that their spouses were cheating on them, or an employee of theirs had his or her hand in the till, or they wanted their outdoor cat trailed so they could find out where it was spending the day. Following one walk-in guy’s request that they conduct a background check on his neighbor whom he suspected was a mass murderer, he joked to Tamra that they should post a sign on the front entrance stating We don’t do serial killers. It was one of the reasons a growing number of private investigators were forsaking the brick-and-mortar store for the home office where there was less chance of the delusional individual wandering in off the street to seek their assistance. In a home-based operation it was much easier to concentrate on corporate clients who were interested in tackling problems like insurance fraud or employee theft. That’s where the money was.

Yet, despite all the challenges posed by the walk-in trade, it did offer what Adam considered the most rewarding aspect of the profession—the opportunity to fix a family for the man or woman in the street. Tamra had picked up on this preference of his early on and had developed the skills to take on cases based on the attributes of clients, more so than the task involved, a distinction that greatly reduced the possibility of subsequent regret.

“In selecting clients, you want to pick someone whose side you wish to be on,” he had advised her. “There are no honeymoon, probation, or engagement periods with clients. Therefore, you want to be on the same page with them from day one. Lawyers may look at it differently, giving greater consideration to the case.”

Her earlier mention of a white knight potentially acting as a filter for the business brought him an inward smile, for there was no better filter than her in screening out the nightmare client.

“Maybe these two cases we’re taking on simultaneously will give us an indication of how raising the production end of the operation impacts us…office-wise and field-wise,” Tamra continued.

Adam glanced at the wall clock. “Maybe so…now, what was the second item you wanted to bring up before I head off?” he asked, hurrying her along.

“I received my first subpoena.”

“Relating to Adam Fraley Private Investigations, I assume.”

“Yes.”

“Another good reason to join The Justice Brigade,” he quipped. “Seriously, you are to be congratulated. I’m surprised it took this long. In this business you come to expect them. What does it pertain to?”

“Do you recall those background checks I conducted for the Midtown Mall security people for that job opening they had a few months back?”

“Sure do.”

“One of the applicants is suing, claiming she lost out to a far less qualified candidate. I’m not sure why they want my testimony.”

“Which side are you testifying for?”

“The security firm…any tips?”

“Stick to the facts of the background checks and be very careful with your opinions. I had a similar case not long after I first got into this business. I conducted background checks on a group of applicants for an upper level position in a banking firm. As in your case, one of the applicants sued for being bypassed for what she called a less qualified candidate. The bank felt they had a solid case and, in my opinion, they did. In the court testimony, however, one of the bank’s personnel managers on the hiring panel stupidly commented on the witness stand that he considered the plaintiff a dullard. When the judge’s final ruling came down in favor of the plaintiff, the word ‘dullard’ appeared five times in the written decision. He cited it as an example of a preconceived bias. As a result, the plaintiff ended up getting the job and the careless personnel manager wound up without one. He was fired.”

“I’ll be sure to watch my language,” Tamra declared.

“When’s the court date? It’s not going to interfere with present business, is it?”

“No, it’s a month away.”

“You’re fortunate, though I should say we’re fortunate. Often those subpoenas are served hours in advance,” he said. “Nothing like having a monkey wrench thrown into your regular workday plans before you even get started on them.”

Adam paused a moment, reflecting on Tamra’s proposal about who would handle which assignment. Both cases could present dangerous circumstances, he knew from previous experience, so trading cases based on the facts as presently known could be premature.

“Tamra, I’m not comfortable leaving you in charge of a domestic case that could go awry,” he said.

“The future is always unclear, no matter what type of case we take on,” she countered.

“This is the nature of the business we’re in.”

“Then promise me that you’ll fill me in the moment your intuition tells you that you’re in over your head.”

“You’ll be the first to know, she said, gathering her notes. “With that in mind, we best hit the road.”

About the author

Henry Hoffman is a former newspaper editor and public library manager. He is the author of the Adam Fraley Mystery Series and is the recipient of the Florida Publishers Association’s Gold Medal Award for Florida Fiction.

Contact Links

Website: http://www.henryhoffman.net

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/87713.Henry_Hoffman

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[Release Blitz]: Starfighter Rising by Daniel Seegmiller

Genre: Science Fiction

Date Published: 17 September 2020 

The enemy wanted him. The galaxy needed him.

Sixty years ago Nolvarics nearly conquered the solar system. They were defeated by starfighters.

Konran dreamed of becoming a starfighter, but he blew his one shot five years ago. Now his life is stuck in neutral as a glorified rock hauler.

He didn’t expect to find Nolvarics lurking within the solar system. They didn’t expect him to survive the confrontation.

Now all eyes are on Konran as he is plunged into a whirlwind of space battles, peril, and conspiracy. The Nolvarics will stop at nothing to catch him, dead or alive.

Can Konran rise up and claim his destiny, or will the galaxy fall?

Excerpt

Finally, his target comes into view. Barely visible despite the sparkling backdrop of one hundred million Milky Way stars, an icy, gravitationally bonded cluster of space rocks emerges through the inky darkness of deep space: one of a hundred Nolvaric operating bases lurking out here in the Kuiper Belt.

Some of the ice rocks loom large with the diameter of Neptune’s Nereid. Others glisten like meteors, swirling dangerously throughout the chaotic cluster on rapid, angular orbits. Ambient light is scarce at 5.9 billion kilometers from the sun, but Konran has no trouble seeing. Holographic overlays enhance his vision, displaying the objects teeming about by rendering their infrared emissions and quantum gravity distortions. Augmented so, the scene almost looks like a video game from the ’80s—the 2180s, to be precise.

Nolvaric starfighters converge on Konran like bloodthirsty mosquitos at sunset. With four wings like crab legs, pointed fuselages like herons’ beaks, and shark-fin masts protruding from the top and bottom, the enemy starfighters glint like demon spiders against the galactic backdrop. Known as Askeras, these are the nimblest, nastiest, most infamous of all Nolvaric starfighters. No longer able to ignore the escalating starfighter threat, Konran’s plasma cannons unleash upon his foe. Mounted in rotating turrets at his Sparrowhawk’swingtips and nose, the cannons gyrate like shoulders in sockets, auto-tracking Nolvaric targets and spraying plasmic death in all directions. Enemies surround him, and Konran jolts and jags through their ranks. Askeras explode like firecrackers as he evades their return fire.

Passing through their midst, he stabilizes his trajectory and slows down just enough, letting them get close. The Askerasflock behind him, closing in as if for the kill.

Works every time, he thinks with a grin.

Konran inverts his Sparrowhawkand his cockpit and craft reorient in an instant, flipping his point of view toward his aft thruster. In the same instant, his wingtip and nose-tip plasma cannons transmute from guns to gravito-nuclear rocket engines, providing him maneuvering capability as his formerly aft thruster assumes the role of megacannon.

Konran’s fingers find the targeting solution before his computer signals a lock.

He pulls the trigger, unleashing a concentrated kiloton blast of plasmic devastation from what moments before had been his backside. Fifteen Askeras disintegrate as forty more scatter. Konran reverts his Sparrowhawk, his weapons and propulsion systems resume their standard roles, and he rockets once more toward the gravitationally bonded cluster of chaos that was the Nolvaric operating base.

His Sparrowhawk careens around the diameter of an ice-encrusted, Texas-size rock, skirting no more than a dozen meters above its surfaceMore crablike Askerasdescend upon him, and he releases his orbit, quickly dodging through a cloud of man-size space debris before losing the Askeras between a scattering of larger space rocks.

Gravity switches constantly within the agitated anarchy of asteroids, but Konran adjusts effortlessly, surfing the gravitational gradients like he was born for this kind of action. His guns tear through another pack of Askeras as he winds around an oblong icicle half the size of Portugal. And then there it is: a glowing, pulsating ice rock at the center of the swirling chaos—the heart of the Nolvaric operating base.

It rotates there, seemingly slower than the surrounding bedlam. It beckons to Konran, washing his cockpit in an ethereal, incandescent green. More Askeras focus on him, and he diverts all power to his aft thruster, jetting forward on the power of a thousand sequential gravito-nuclear explosions.

This will be the only attack run, the one chance to win or die.

Konran inverts his Sparrowhawk. His cockpit flips and his craft reorients in preparation for the killing stroke. A green light appears at the edge of the energy source, then another and another, revealing the deadliest of the Nolvaric defenses: concentrated plasmic energy bundles propelled like cannonballs from the heart itself. The green plasma balls fill the vacuous space before him, each trying to end him. They destabilize as they get close, exploding with vicious stored energy and rocking his Sparrowhawkwith relentless plasmic shockwaves. Konran dodges one, then ten, then fifty of the blasts, intent on his target.

His megacannon comes within range, and he depresses the trigger.

A column of orange plasma leaps from his Sparrowhawk: a kiloton of destruction inbound on the target as if someone had just hooked a firehose up to a hurricane and funneled in all the lightning at once. The green Nolvaric heart shudders, wracking and cracking beneath the blast. Konran’s sensor displays indicate massive fissures forming within the glowing green asteroid—but it isn’t dead yet. His trigger finger itches as his megacannon cycles and he dances between waves of green plasma balls.

One more well-placed shot will complete the job.

Konran knows the spot, feeling it more than seeing it within the monstrosity of a space rock. He takes aim, angling slightly with a careful boost from his dual nose-tip cannons—which, inverted so, are presently providing propulsion to his Sparrowhawk.

He squeezes the trigger.

And with an enormous green flash, a Nolvaric plasma ball smashes straight into his cockpit. And everything goes black.

About the Author

Daniel Seegmiller grew up loving Star Wars, Mech Warriors, and all things sports. He started out as an English major before switching to his other love, science. He has an MS in mechanical engineering and has worked on everything from biomechanics, to machine learning, to defense technology. 

Daniel loves dreaming up awesome adventures…like, literally, he wakes up in the middle of the night with the best ideas. Most of the stories he writes are for his kids. Starfighter Rising is his debut novel.

He lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico with his wife and three squirrelly children.  

Contact Links

Website: www.danielseegmiller.com

Facebook: Daniel Seegmiller Author

Twitter: @DanSeegWrites

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[Book Blitz]: The True Adventures of Gidon Lev by Julie Gray

 

Bookcover

 

Genre: Narrative non-fiction/biography

Date Published: July 01, 2020

Publisher: Lightning Source

Of the approximately 15,000 children imprisoned in the Nazi concentration camp of Térézin (Theresienstadt ) near Prague, less than 100 survived. Gidon Lev is one of those children.

On the face of it, The True Adventures of Gidon Lev is the story of an elderly Holocaust survivor—a man who made it through horrifying events and lived to tell the tale. But Gidon (pronounced “Gid-awn”) did more than survive—he thrived. Gidon’s is the story of a little boy who never truly grew up, with a desperate need to belong and to build a family for himself. His story spans the beginnings of a fledgling country, a first marriage gone seriously wrong, a second marriage that lasted for over forty years and a late-in-life relationship with a writer and editor, thirty years his junior with whom his adventures continued, apace.

 

The True Adventures of Gidon Lev Blitz

 

About the author 

 

JGGL

Julie Gray was born in 1964 in the San Joaquin Valley in California. A longtime Huffington Post contributor, Julie has been published in the Sanskrit Literary Journal, Moment Magazine, The Times of Israel, MovieMaker Magazine, Script Magazine, and Hip Mama. Her essay “The Freaking Autumn of My Life” was included in the anthology “Aging: An Apprenticeship.” A veteran essayist and editor, Julie moved to Israel in 2012 and is working on her memoir “They Do Things Differently Here.”

 

Contact Links

Website: www.juliegray.info

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pg/MyLovingLifeBuddy/posts/?ref=page_internal

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JulieGray972

Blog: https://www.thetrueadventures.com/blog-1

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/juliegraysays/

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[Book Blitz]: A Time Traveler’s Guide through the Multiverse by Steven M. Moore

 

A Time Travelers Guide through the Multiverse

 

Genre: Science Fiction, Time Travel, Sci-fi Rom-Com

Date Published: July 2020

Publisher: Carrick Publishing

Enrico Fermi wasn’t the last physicist who was both an experimental and theoretical genius, but Professor Gail Hoff will never receive the Nobel Prize. She wants to travel through time but discovers she can only go forward. She goes time-travelling through several universes of the multiverse, never to return to her little lab outside Philly. Jeff Langley, her jack-of-all-trades electronics wizard, accompanies her.

Their escapades, both amorous and adventurous, make this sci-fi rom-com a far-out road-trip story filled with dystopian and post-apocalyptic situations, first encounter, robots and androids—all that and more await the reader who rides along.

 

 

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About the author 

 

 

A Time Travelers Guide through the Multiverse Author Steven M. Moore

Steven M. Moore was born in California and has lived in various parts of the US and Colombia, South America. He always wanted to be a storyteller but had to postpone that dream to work in academia and R&D as a physicist. His travels around Europe, South America, and the US, for work or pleasure, taught him a lot about the human condition and our wonderful human diversity, a learning process that started during his childhood in California’s San Joaquin Valley.

Steve is now a full-time writer who has written many sci-fi, mystery, and thriller novels, some of them contained in six series. He and his wife now live in Montclair, NJ, only thirteen miles west of the Lincoln Tunnel.

You can learn more about Steve and his books at his website: https://stevenmmoore.com. Use the contact page there to communicate with him…and to sign up for his email newsletter.

 

Contact Links

Website: https://stevenmmoore.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/StevenMMoore4

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorStevenMMoore

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[Guest Post]: A Venomous Love by Chris Karlsen

 

Writing an Old Fashioned Detective

 

I spent nineteen of my twenty-five years in law enforcement as a detective. Long before I became a police officer, I wanted to be a writer. But I feared it wasn’t a practical profession and lacked the confidence to an attempt at it. Shortly after I retired from law enforcement, I found the courage to try my hand writing a story that I had floated around in my imagination for years. I started taking classes to learn the craft and began my first book at the same time.

When I went to conferences and seminars the same question was asked: why don’t I write a cop story? I never had the desire to write a contemporary one murder/suspense. I enjoy a good police story as much as anyone. My favorite authors in the genre are Mike Connelly, Joe Wambaugh, and John Sandford. I just didn’t want to take that road.

I love history and began a series of historical romances involving time travel. While writing that series I got the idea for an old fashioned detective. I knew he’d work in London and I couldn’t think of a better setting for murder/suspense than Victorian England. From that idea, Detective Rudyard Bloodstone (Ruddy) was created.

When I started the Bloodstone series, it hadn’t occurred to me how much of my personal experience as a detective would influence the stories. I used my years of interviewing suspects to enhance the mindset(s) of the killers. I found including the POV of the antagonists added a lot of interesting aspects to their characters. They remained villains, but they weren’t flat, black and white ones.

In the first book, Silk, Detective Bloodstone must battle politics and the class structure while pursuing his suspect. In Snifter of Death, the second book, he and his partner find themselves investigating a killer that is the last person anyone would suspect. In my latest book, A Venomous Love, there are two villains. An added twist to the case is the murderer’s use of a most unusual weapon.

My detective experience became important in the execution of Ruddy’s investigations. Silk is set in 1888, Snifter of Death in 1889 and A Venomous Love in 1890. He literally has no forensic science to help him. With each murder, I had to walk the scene with him, observe with him, and consider what could possibly serve as a clue. To stay true to the period, I had to strip away everything I knew from modern investigations and fall back on old fashioned police work.

Detectives everywhere, and over time, have all handled the occasional bizarre case. One of the main elements of A Venomous Love is the weapon used. It is based on an actual event related to me years ago by a London police officer friend of mine. The setting, the time of the story and the weapon add a colorful angle.

I found the challenge of writing a cop story with a Victorian setting surprisingly fun. Detective Bloodstone has become my favorite character to write. I love filling his world with people from all walks of life in that period. He definitely will get more cases to solve in the near future.

 

 

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About the book 

 

A Venomous Love final cover

 

Book 3 of the Bloodstone Series

Genre: Historical Suspense/Thriller

 Date Published: February 28, 2020

Publisher:  Books to Go Now

The killer whispered-“A pretty damsel…worth a pretty risk.”

 

A veteran, Detective Rudyard Bloodstone has fought a brutal battle and witnessed war horrors that haunt his nightmares. Now one of those horrors has followed him home from Africa.

A vicious predator, the Cape cobra, can kill a man in thirty minutes. A suspect using the snake as a weapon in robberies is terrorizing London.

When the crimes escalate into murder, a victim’s daughter, Honoria Underhill, becomes the focus of the killer. After several attempts on her life, Scotland Yard threatens to take over the high profile case. With few leads to follow, Bloodstone and his partner must now fight department politics and catch the killer before Underhill becomes another murder victim.

 

A Venomous Love Tour

 

About the author 

 

 

ChrisAuthor

I was raised in Chicago. My father, a history professor, and my mother, a voracious reader passed on a love of history and books along with a love of travel.

I am a retired police detective. After twenty-five years in law enforcement I decided to pursue my dream of writing. I write a historical-time travel romance series called Knights in Time and a historical suspense called The Bloodstone Series.

I am also working on a world war two series of novella romances. The first is Moonlight Serenade and currently available. The second is my work in progress at the moment and will be titled, The Ack-Ack Girl.

 

Contact Links

Website: https://chriskarlsen.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChrisKarlsenAuthor/?eid=ARDwh1KvkROLq57XcR6XR9Bbw_-Chyy4hL-c5wrq0kQK2lKjUGjl-FSfdpl_iDk3HEqVCT150TFk0jPq

Twitter: https://twitter.com/chriskarlsen1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4822048.Chris_Karlsen

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/chriskarlsen/boards/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/?hl=en

Subscribe: https://www.subscribepage.com/Moonlight_Serenade

 

 

A Venomous Love Giveaway

 

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Giveaway

2 e-copies of A Venomous Love, 1 Amazon gift card for $20 to a random winner

[Book Blitz]: Edge of Extinction by Kim Borg

 

Edge of Extinction

 

Genre: Science Fiction/Adventure

Date Published: April 2020

 Publisher: E. L. Marker / WiDo Publishing

The year is 2086 and the planet is deteriorating fast. Extreme weather events and unseasonable climate have become the norm. Millions die of famine and drought each year and yet the population continues to grow, reaching well over 10 billion people. After millions of years of evolution, humanity faces collapse.

But all is not lost.

There is another planet, far from our solar system, which may be capable of supporting human life – Arcadia. Dr. Amber Lytton and Dr. Joel Carter, life-long friends and academic colleagues, along with a team of international scientists, are sent to determine if the planet is suitable for colonization.

But their awe and wonder at the similarities between Earth and Arcadia fade quickly as they learn they are not the only complex lifeforms to set foot on this planet. Sharing is not an option.

 

Travel-Journeys-Audiogram-Template-instagram1080

 

 

Excerpt 

Prologue

Jungle, Unknown—

22:30, 9 March, 2086

 

Alone, he ran.

Wet ferns slapped against his face and arms as he pushed forward blindly. The moonlight could barely penetrate the thick canopy above, blanketing the jungle in shadows. Soft rain droplets mixed with the sweat dripping down his face. Despite the rain and the darkness, he ran. Terrified, he advanced through the trees, moving quickly but cautiously, trying not to lose his footing against the slick gnarled roots. His ears throbbed with the sound of his own heartbeat.

Don’t slow down.

Don’t fall.

Need to hide, need to get away.

The thumping of heavy footsteps followed close behind. The trees rustled in the distance from some unknown force, some unknown creature, as it chased him through the black, storm-lashed night.

Ahead the forest thinned slightly as a clearing opened up, a path in the jungle. The man felt a small sensation of dread swell in his chest. He slowed a fraction as he burst from the thick undergrowth onto the enormous dirt path.

A shadow flashed across the path before him. It was small, about the size of a human, but it moved with incredible speed. For a moment he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. The shadow reappeared, closer this time and moving slower. As it came toward him it was growing in extent. It was not human sized at all. It was enormous; a monstrous figure obscured by the darkness. And it was coming toward him.

The man panicked. He tried to stop running mid-step, but in doing so he lost his footing. He slipped in the mud and hit the ground hard, rolling several times before sliding to a stop on the wet earth. A rising pain began to fill his abdomen; the impact must have been more severe than he realized. He was in the middle of the path, totally exposed. With his face buried in mud, he opened a single eye in time to see an enormous three-toed claw sinking into the sludge beside him. He squeezed his eyes shut again, ignoring the pain coursing through his gut.

Hold still.

Maybe it didn’t see.

He held his breath. He could hear the creature standing above him, breathing deep hollow breaths. It was sniffing, searching. He could feel the warmth of its breath against his back.

Don’t move.

Don’t breathe.

From behind, the man heard the nearby trees shake and snap as something else huge crashed onto the path. The creature that had been pursuing him had finally caught up.

The second creature entered the clearing and paused. For a moment, the jungle was quiet as the two beasts sized each other up. Suddenly the creature with the huge three-toed foot hovering over the man broke the silence with an ungodly roar; a deep resonating bellow which vibrated the ground beneath the man’s face. In return the second animal snarled aggressively; it was a guttural, gravelly hiss. Suddenly, three-toes lunged forward, stepping clear over the man who still lay silently in the mud.

Without missing a beat, the man sprang to his feet. To his right was a large tree with thick buttress roots which wound together creating a hollow, just big enough for a small person to fit inside. He ran to the tree, clutching at his stomach, and jammed his body into the crevice. His ears were ringing from the trumpeting roars and growls as the two titans brawled behind him. He could still feel his heart thumping in his ears. He tried to turn his body to see the creatures outside but he couldn’t move. Glancing down, he saw his field-medic kit. The carabiner which connected the kit to his belt had jammed between the intersecting roots.

He was stuck, facing the huge tree, staring into darkness.

From behind, he could hear the battle raging; the wet smacking of flesh against flesh, the crunching of bones, the snapping of nearby branches. The sounds of these monsters were from another world. The three-toed creature moaned and growled from deep in its throat, projecting a profound and deafening sound, reminiscent of a lion’s roar. The second beast hissed and snarled, more like a crocodile or snake. Each sound sent shivers down the man’s spine.

Another blood-curdling wail rang out, vibrating the man’s eardrums. Judging by the sound, it was the second creature, the one that had pursued him

through the night. Warm thick liquid splashed across his back. He reached a loose hand to his shoulder and felt the sticky substance: blood. The hissing and snarling slowly subsided, giving way to deep and raspy breathing; followed by a loud thump as a huge body crashed onto the earth. Lightning cracked and thunder rolled as the victor bellowed a deep and triumphant howl over its adversary.

The man held his breath again, praying the winner would not come looking for him. After a few moments he could hear the sound of large footsteps moving away, into the jungle, into the distance.

The man remained frozen for several minutes, too terrified to move. He could still feel the warm and sticky blood on his shoulders. After a few moments, his heartbeat began to slow, his breathing returned to normal. A shiver rippled across his body as he started to feel cold. The jungle was silent again, save for the sound of the pounding rain and the occasional distant thunder crack.

He’d made it.

The man tried to wriggle free from the hollow but he was still attached to the medical kit, which was firmly wedged between the tree-roots. Carefully, he maneuvered a free hand down to his waist and unclipped the carabiner, and the kit, from his belt. As soon as he was free he backed away from the roots clumsily.

He looked up and down the path for any signs of movement. As he did so, he stepped backward, slipping slightly as he came into contact with the huge pool of blood seeping toward him. The man turned sharply and found himself standing only meters from the fallen creature. It was a hideous beast, like something out of a child’s nightmare. Its hulking mass moved slightly. A shiver skipped across the man’s spine. For a moment he made eye contact with the beast, his stomach tensed; but its eyes were empty and dull; it was dead.

The man clutched his stomach as the pain continued to intensify. He pressed lightly on his right side, just below the ribcage, and groaned in agony. He doubled over, trying to breathe through it. As he opened his eyes again, the man saw something strange. Lying on the ground at his feet was a beautiful yellow feather the size of his forearm. It was completely out of place in the depths of the jungle. He crouched down and picked it up. It was unlike anything he had ever—WHACK.

Darkness.

 

 

Edge of Extinction on tablet and phone with bookstore logos

 

 

About the author

 

Edge of Extinction Author Kim Borg

Kim Borg is an academic, author, and self-proclaimed nerd. She is a Social and Behavioural Researcher at Monash University in Australia and is one of few people to actually enjoy undertaking a PhD. In all her work you’ll see elements of science (behavioural/fiction), the environment, and animals. Through her research and her novels, Kim’s ambition is to educate as well as entertain.

 

 

 

Contact Links

 

Website: https://kimborg.net/edge-of-extinction

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KimBorgAU

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kimborgau/

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kimborgau

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kimborgau/

Promo Link: http://bookbuzz.net/blog/science-fiction-edge-of-extinction/

 

 

Purchase Links 

 

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[Guest Post]: Zon by Maureen A. Miller

Today, I have a new guest post on my blog. Please, give a warm welcome to Maureen A. Miller, an author of YA/sci-fi adventure, “ZON”. Maureen talks about her life in lockdown and he loud writing buddy 😉

 

A Day In The Life Of THIS writer

By Maureen A. Miller

 

People say to me, “Oh, the pandemic lockdown must not bother you. You work from home.” Well, aside from the myriad amount of ways the pandemic bothers me, it truly does impact my writing.
Why?
Well, it’s the simple fact that my husband and I have a Corgi. Corgis are hyper, opinionated, stubborn, LOUD…mostly LOUD. Yes, I adore her and wouldn’t have her any other way, but did I mention how LOUD she is?
So, a Corgi’s job is to herd. Before the pandemic, my husband was off to work every morning, and she only had one person to herd. She could herd me into my office and I could meet deadlines without much trouble. Now that my husband has to work from home, Tink feels the need to herd us both into the same room where she can keep an eye on us. The fact that we work in different rooms is driving her crazy.
When my husband has one of his uber-important conference calls (which happens at least ten times a day), I have to forego the deadlines and try and keep Tink from barking at the voices on his call. These distractions involve treats, ball-tossing, and belly rubs. I know, they all sound like fun distractions, but when you’re under a deadline, you find yourself scrambling for quiet time. During dog naps, I delve into the world of fantasy and try to conquer my word count. Sometimes this is at 6am, sometimes it’s at midnight.
We’re all learning to adapt to these new patterns. And no matter the distraction—I still have tales in my head that I work on putting in print. And I still have a dog that takes her job very seriously as well.
Even though Tink has her work cut out for her herding both her humans, she wouldn’t have it any other way! She is ecstatic to have us both home.
Are you working from home now? Or do you have a pet that has benefited from you being home?

 

untitled1

 

 

About the book 

 

 

Zon300

(Can be read as a stand alone)

Genre: Young Adult/Science Fiction/Adventure

Date Published: June 22, 2020

From USA TODAY bestselling author, Maureen A. Miller, comes this young adult cosmic adventure.

With a father from the planet, Ziratak, and a mother from Earth, Zon’s challenges are galactic. Zon doesn’t possess superpowers, though. If anything, he’s a bit of a klutz.

In Ziratakian folklore, the tale of the Temple of the Monarch has been passed down for generations. As legend has it, a series of miniature globes lead to the temple’s gate.

Folklore…nothing more.

Except, Zon knows of a cave with small globes in it. And with one clumsy mishap, he triggers the gate–opening a portal to other worlds.

A trip through this vortex transports him to Earth, where the first human he encounters is a young woman with challenges of her own.

This is a brand new saga, and a new generation. There is no need to read the BEYOND series.However, for readers of the series, you will enjoy this continuation of the epic science fiction adventure.

 

 

zonpromo12

 

About the author 

 

 

IMG_1431

USA Today bestselling author, Maureen A. Miller worked in the software industry for fifteen years. She crawled around plant floors in a hard hat and safety glasses hooking up computers to behemoth manufacturing machines. The job required extensive travel. The best form of escapism during those lengthy airport layovers became writing.

Maureen’s first novel, WIDOW’S TALE, earned her a Golden Heart nomination in Romantic Suspense. After that she became hooked to the genre. In fact, she was so hooked she is the founder of the JUST ROMANTIC SUSPENSE website.

Recently, Maureen branched out into the Young Adult Science Fiction market with the popular BEYOND Series. To her it was still Romantic Suspense…just on another planet!

Find more about Maureen at www.maureenamiller.com 

 

 

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[Release Blitz]: The Dark That Dwells by Matt Digman and Ryan Roddy

 

The Dark That Dwells

 

Genre: Science Fiction
Release Date: July 10, 2020
THE DARK THAT DWELLS is a debut space opera novel featuring an unforgettable ensemble cast, planet-hopping across an expansive galaxy on the brink of war.
The story unfolds through the viewpoints of four characters: SIDNA ORIN, a mercurial young arcanist, striving to gain the lost knowledge that could save her people. FALL ARDEN, honorable sword-for-hire, working as a guide on a dangerous expedition into an unexplored frontier. BAN MORGAN, disgraced marine wielding high-tech weaponry, chained by remorse and the ghosts of his past. TIEGER of WESTMARCH, fanatical zealot, empowered with the seemingly divine technology of his overlord and a starship feared across generations.
THE DARK THAT DWELLS holds virtual worlds lost in crystal relics, visceral close-quarters combat, mysteries of the divine and the arcane, companionship and bittersweet romance, insidious deception, and the looming threat of a horror who hungers for the souls of mankind.
This story is essential for readers craving robust, character-driven adventures on fantastic alien worlds, bullet-ridden spaceships barely held together, and the expansive infinity of space-time itself.
The Dark That Dwells on tablet with bookstore logos
About the authors 
The Dark That Dwells Authors Matt Digman and Ryan Roddy
Matt Digman is exactly one half the creative force behind the epic fantasy space opera novel, The Dark That Dwells. Born and raised in Arkansas, he spent his free time studying Star Wars technical manuals, searching for his next favorite RPG, and watching his Star Trek: TNG VHS tapes until they fell apart. Basically, he was nerdy when nerdy wasn’t cool. He currently works as a pediatric emergency medicine physician in Alabama and writes when he ought to be sleeping.
Ryan Roddy grew up across the southeast, chasing her dream of becoming a professional actress. Though she eventually traded the stage for a stethoscope, she never gave up her love for great storytelling—or for playing dress up as an adult. Now she works as a pediatric emergency medicine physician to afford her cosplay and Disney obsessions. She loves the characters she’s written for The Dark That Dwells with her husband almost as much as she loves him and their four dogs.
The Dark That Dwells Blitz
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[Book Blitz]: The Ultra Betrayal by Glenn Dyer

 

The Ultra Betrayal

 

A Conor Thorn Novel, Book Two

Genre: Thriller, Historical Thriller, Military Thriller

Released: June 9, 2020

Publisher: TMR Press

One man’s dark deal with the Nazis could bring the Allies to their knees…

Autumn, 1942. Rule breaker OSS Agent Conor Thorn is assigned a mission to help the Allied war effort when a key Swedish cryptographer stationed in England goes missing. Thorn is determined to find him before critical information falls into enemy hands, but when his MI6 colleague vanishes trailing the code-breaker to Stockholm, Thorn is plunged yet again into a sinister Nazi conspiracy.

Can Thorn stop prized secrets from triggering more wartime carnage?

The Ultra Betrayal is the second novel in the thrilling Conor Thorn spy series. If you like harrowing historical drama, riveting espionage, and fast-paced action, then you’ll love Glenn Dyer’s well-researched World War II adventure.

Other Books in the Conor Thorn Thriller Series:

 

The Torch Betrayal Book One

 

The Torch Betrayal

A Conor Thorn Novel, Book One

Publisher: TMR Press

Released: January 2018

A disgraced agent. A missing battle plan. Will he find redemption or damage the Allies beyond repair?

London, 1942. OSS Agent Conor Thorn is desperate for a second chance. After a botched mission in Tangier, Thorn knows failure is not an option. When confidential directives for Operation Torch, the invasion of North Africa, go missing, the agent must recover the plans before the Nazis thwart the crucial mission.

Thorn teams up with MI6 agent Emily Bright to seek out the traitor in their midst. Untangling the web of suspects leads them to Nazi sympathizers, double-crossing Soviet spies, and Vatican clergymen with motives of their own. As their mission grows more and more dangerous, Thorn and Bright have one chance to retrieve the document before it falls into enemy hands, leaving countless Allied troops in danger.

The Torch Betrayal is a high-stakes World War II thriller inspired by true events.

 

 

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The Ultra Betrayal promo card with kindle unlimited

 

Excerpt

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

 

1915 Hours, Friday, October 30, 1942

Lysekil Harbor, Lysekil, Sweden

 

Conor and Emily shared a wooden crate in the back of the truck. Eve and Gunnar did the same. They had been on the road for ten minutes when the truck made a right turn and pulled to a stop. Conor pushed the rear canvas flap aside and saw that they had arrived at a gas station. Bobby came to the back of the truck.

“The driver said that he has to fill up for his deliveries tomorrow morning. That’s his routine. It won’t take long.”

“Long enough for a phone call?”

“I guess.”

Conor hopped down and headed inside the station’s office. There wasn’t anyone inside, so he laid a few krona on the desk, dialed the Grand Hotel, and asked for Gus Karlson.

“Are you there yet?” Karlson asked.

“Close. Maybe another fifteen, twenty minutes. Any fallout from our fishing trip?”

“Quite a lot. Tolberg visited us. The C Bureau is pretty grumpy. The body count at the Andersson house was out of hand, as far as they’re concerned. They say that quite a few people from all three legations are going to be sent home. I might be one of them.”

“Wait, you said three legations?”

“There were three dead Russians at the house, along with one German.”

“How did the Russians get involved?”

“They have eyes and ears everywhere, Conor.” 

A man in a grease-smeared coverall walked into the office through a rear door. He held his hands up as if to say, What the hell?

Conor pointed at the coins on the desk. 

The man shrugged and sat down. 

“Could they have been a competing buyer for Lind’s intelligence?” Conor believed that, once the war was over, the shotgun marriage that was the relationship between the Americans, Brits, and Soviets wouldn’t last long. 

“Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Any sign of Eklof or Stuben?”

“Actually, they have been noticeably absent of late.”

“That’s not necessarily good news.” Conor saw Bobby waving at him from the cab of the truck. “Gotta get going, Gus. Keep your head down.”

“I could say the same thing to you. By the way, you taking good care of Ramsay’s Volvo?”

Conor dropped the phone in the cradle, gave the man a quick nod, and walked out to the truck. Conor stepped up into the cab and sat next to Bobby. He wanted to study the lay of the land as they made their approach to the harbor area.

Less than fifteen minutes later, they were driving along a road that ran beside a long wharf. The dockside was lit by a sparse number of streetlights. Three fishing trawlers were tied up along the wharf, all of their pilothouses lit up and their navigation lights on. Conor could see a few men washing down the decks with hoses. The driver pulled into a dirt lot adjacent to a long, three-story warehouse. At the near end was a sign for a fishmonger, most likely the driver’s boss. Farther down the quay, Conor could make out the shape of a motor gun boat tied up close to a single railcar. According to the extraction plan, it was motor gun boat 622, the Fairmile D. The Dog Boat. The same one that he and Donovan saw demonstrating high-speed maneuvers in the Thames. All armaments were removed from sight, and extra fuel was supposed to be on board. It was to fly the red ensign of a merchantman, crewed by trawler men from Hull. The captain, a man called Peter Scott, was former Royal Navy. 

A sedan parked near the gun boat caught his attention. Conor couldn’t make out who or how many people were inside, but he knew they were enjoying cigarettes given the smoke drifting out the open windows. 

The driver of the truck cut the engine, placed the keys in the visor, and said something to Bobby.

“What’s up?” Conor asked.

“Our friend here is going home to his family. He says we can stay in the truck as long as we like.”

Conor looked at his watch: 1934 hours. “Tell him we’ll be moving on in a few minutes. And thank him for the ride.”

The driver jumped down from the cab and headed up a sloping road toward the center of town. 

“What now?” Bobby asked.

“Do you see that car parked down near the railcar and the gun boat?”

“Yeah.”

“Not sure who they are, but the chances that they’re keeping an eye on our transportation out of Sweden is good. The problem is, they can’t see us board or we’ll never get out of here.”

“So do we wait them out?”

“No time for that.” Conor got out and went to the rear of the truck. 

Emily was sitting on the crate, gun held loosely in her lap. Eve and Gunnar were dozing. Gunnar’s hands were still bound behind his back. 

“Emily, I’m going to drive us down to the dock where the gun boat is tied up. As soon as I stop, get moving and board.”

“Understood.” At that moment, Eve and Gunnar woke up. 

“And for good measure, get the gag back in Gunnar’s mouth.”

Conor walked around to the driver’s-side door, jumped up, started the truck, and pulled out of the lot.

“You going to tell me what your plan is at any point?” Bobby asked.

“Once I get rid of our visitors, we board the boat. Not complicated.” 

Bobby said something, but Conor couldn’t make it out over the sound of the truck’s engine. He kept the truck in first gear as he set it on a direct path to the rear of the sedan. The truck’s headlights revealed two men turning around in their seats to watch the truck coming toward them. Conor glanced over at the motor gun boat and saw someone in the pilothouse, as well as a plume of dark exhaust spouting from the boat’s stern. 

Ten feet from the sedan, the passenger-side door opened, and he punched the gas. The force of metal on metal closed the door. The truck picked up some speed as it began to push the sedan toward the end of the wharf, but progress slowed as it fought the braking power of the car. More gas and the sedan and truck neared the end of the quay. The sedan balanced on the wharf’s edge momentarily before tumbling into the harbor.

“Let’s go.”

Conor jumped out of the cab and rushed to the back of the truck. Emily was on the ground, helping Eve jump down. Gunnar was right behind her. With the truck engine silent, the throaty sound of the motor gun boat’s engines filled the night. Conor was last to board. 

“Get them below, Emily. Bobby, tell the captain that now would be a good time to shove off. Those two guys might be good swimmers.”

Conor heard the car before he saw it, but the headlights quickly found him on the aft section of the deck. The car skidded to a stop under a streetlight. The driver got out, then the passenger. Eklof. 

Conor reached for his Colt, but before he could raise it, Eklof fired off two rounds. A deckhand on the foredeck tossed the last line into the water and took cover behind the craft’s superstructure. As the gun boat started to drift from the quay, Conor fired two rounds, shattering the window of the door that Eklof was using as cover. The driver began firing as well, rounds whizzing over Conor’s head. Bobby and Emily started firing from the bridge, and soon the driver fell to the ground behind his door. 

As the gun boat pulled forward, Eklof sprinted toward the stern. Conor pulled the trigger of his Colt, but the gun’s slide snapped back, signaling an empty magazine. He dropped the gun on the deck as Eklof leaped and landed on the aft deck, losing his balance due to the accelerating boat, which, luckily, kept him from firing accurately. Before he could regain his balance, Conor raced toward him. Jumping, he planted both feet into Eklof’s chest. Eklof’s pistol flew into the air and landed in the boat’s prop wash, while Conor landed on his back, knocking the air from his lungs.

Eklof struggled to his feet, also gasping for air. He charged Conor, who had barely gotten to his feet, and landed on him. Eklof wrapped his arms around his chest, pinning Conor’s upper arms against his body. Eklof landed one headbutt, then another. Conor’s vision blurred. He raised his right arm and, before Eklof could launch another headbutt, grabbed the man’s ear and ripped it from his head; blood gushed, covering Conor’s hand, and Eklof let out a scream as he rolled off Conor and grabbed the side of his head. Conor, his head pounding from the headbutts, rolled on top of Eklof, grabbed his hair, and started pounding his head on the deck. 

“You. Don’t. Ever. Hit. A. Woman,” Conor screamed. Each word was punctuated with Eklof’s head slamming into the deck. Blood pooled under it, and his eye patch had come loose. The eye socket looked like a dried peach pit. 

Conor heard Eklof’s short, hoarse breaths, and he rolled off the man, grabbed his legs, and dragged him toward the stern, letting his body slip into the churning water with no fanfare, no emotion. 

When Conor turned, he noticed a commotion on the port side of the wheelhouse. Emily was bent over a body. He ran forward, the motor gun boat picking up speed. When he reached Emily, he saw that she was tending to a wounded man. Bobby Heugle. 

 

The Ultra Betrayal Blitz

 

About the author

 

The Ultra Betrayal Author Glenn Dyer

Glenn Dyer is a former commercial television executive whose career spanned thirty-seven years. That career took him to cities such as Salt Lake City, Dallas, Washington, DC, and Denver. He returned to Park City, Utah in retirement in 2013 and began writing full-time. He has long been captivated by the events of World War II and couples this fascination with his passion for historical thrillers with the publication of The Torch Betrayal and The Ultra Betrayal, both books in the Conor Thorn Series. He and his wife Chris have three children, all of whom live too far away. Visit his website at http://www.glenndyer.net and follow him on Twitter @duffy_dyer and Instagram @glennduffydyer.

 

Contact Links

Website: http://www.glenndyer.net

Twitter: https://twitter.com/duffy_dyer

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GlennDyerAuthor/

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/glenn-duffy-dyer-4960b44/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCywxrmToBjVSIJceW0IrgZw

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/glennduffydyer/

Promo Link: http://bookbuzz.net/blog/thriller-the-ultra-betrayal/

 

Purchase Links

 

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[Book Blitz]: Tokyo Traffic by Michael Pronko

 

Tokyo Traffic

 

 

Detective Hiroshi Tokyo Series, Book 3

Genre: Mystery, Thriller

Released: June 20, 2020

Publisher: Raked Gravel Press

Running from a life she didn’t choose, in a city she doesn’t know, Sukanya, a young Thai girl, loses herself in Tokyo. With her Bangkok street smarts, and some stolen money, she stays ahead of her former captors willing to do anything to recover the computer she took. After befriending Chiho, a Japanese girl living in an internet café, Sukanya makes plans to rid herself of her pursuers, and her past, forever.

Meanwhile, Detective Hiroshi Shimizu leaves the safe confines of his office to investigate a porn studio where a brutal triple murder took place. The studio’s accounts point him in multiple directions at once. Together with ex-sumo wrestler Sakaguchi and old-school Takamatsu, Hiroshi tracks the killers through Tokyo’s teen hangouts, bayside docks and crowded squares, straight into the underbelly of the global economy.

As bodies wash up from Tokyo Bay, Hiroshi tries to find the Thai girl at the center of it all, whose name he doesn’t even know. He uncovers a human trafficking ring and cryptocurrency scammers whose connections extend to the highest levels of Tokyo’s power elite.

 

 

Tokyo Traffic on tablet with bookstore logos

 

Other Books in the Detective Hiroshi Tokyo Series:

 

The Last Train Book One

 

 

The Last Train

Detective Hiroshi Tokyo Series, Book One

Published: May 2017

Publisher: Raked Gravel Press

In Tokyo, murder’s easy to hide.

Detective Hiroshi Shimizu investigates white collar crime in Tokyo. When an American businessman turns up dead, his mentor Takamatsu calls him out to the site of a grisly murder. A glimpse from a security camera video suggests the killer might be a woman. Hiroshi quickly learns how close homicide and suicide can appear in a city full of high-speed trains just a step–or a push–away.

How do you find one woman in the biggest city in the world?

Takamatsu drags Hiroshi out to the hostess clubs and skyscraper offices of Tokyo in search of the killer. Hiroshi goes deeper and deeper into Tokyo’s intricate, perilous market for buying and selling the most expensive land in the world. He teams up with ex-sumo wrestler Sakaguchi to scour Tokyo’s sacred temples, corporate offices and industrial wastelands to find out why one woman was driven to murder.

 

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The Moving Blade Book Two

 

The Moving Blade

Detective Hiroshi Tokyo Series, Book Two

Published: September 2018

Publisher: Raked Gravel Press

A moving blade is hidden in the blur of motion, felt but nIn Tokyo, the past is present. And deadly.

When the top American diplomat in Tokyo, Bernard Mattson, is killed, he leaves more than a lifetime of successful Japan-American negotiations. He leaves a missing manuscript, boxes of research, a lost keynote speech and a tangled web of relations.

When his alluring daughter, Jamie, returns from America wanting answers, finding only threats, Detective Hiroshi Shimizu is dragged from the safe confines of his office into the street-level realities of Pacific Rim politics.ot perceived.

With help from ex-sumo wrestler Sakaguchi, Hiroshi searches for the killer from Tokyo’s back alley bars to government offices, through anti-nuke protests to the gates of an American naval base. When two more bodies turn up, Hiroshi must choose between desire and duty, violence or procedure, before the killer silences his next victim.

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About the author

 

Tokyo Traffic Author Michael Pronko

Michael Pronko is a Tokyo-based writer of murder, memoir and music. His writing about Tokyo life and his character-driven mysteries have won awards and five-star reviews. Kirkus Reviews selected his second novel, The Moving Blade for their Best Books of 2018. The Last Train won the Shelf Unbound Competition for Best Independently Published Book.

Michael also runs the website, Jazz in Japan, which covers the vibrant jazz scene in Tokyo and Yokohama. During his 20 years in Japan, he has written about Japanese culture, art, society and politics for Newsweek Japan, The Japan Times, and Artscape Japan. He has read his essays on NHK TV and done programs for Nippon Television based on his writings.

A philosophy major, Michael traveled for years, ducking in and out of graduate schools, before finishing his PhD on Charles Dickens and film. He finally settled in Tokyo as a professor of American Literature at Meiji Gakuin University. His seminars focus on contemporary novels, short stories and film adaptations.

 

 

Contact Links

Website: https://www.michaelpronko.com/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/pronkomichael/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pronkoauthor/

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/michaelpronko

You Tube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LE1hGjg9Grg

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/michaelpronko/

Promo Link: http://bookbuzz.net/blog/mystery-thriller-tokyo-traffic/

 

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