fiction

The Gladiator and the Guard

April 27, 2016 By Barbara 1 Comment

Today I am helping Fellow author, Annie Douglass Lima, announce the release of her new young adult action/adventure novel, The Gladiator and the Guard! This is the 2nd book in the Krillonian Chronicles. Read on for all the details and special New Release Discounts!

First Things First: a Little Information about Book 1:

Bensin, a teenage slave and martial artist, is desperate to see his little sister freed. But only victory in the Krillonian Empire’s most prestigious tournament will allow him to secretly arrange for Ellie’s escape. Dangerous people are closing in on her, however, and Bensin is running out of time. With his one hope fading quickly away, how can Bensin save Ellie from a life of slavery and abuse?

What is the Collar for, and What is a Cavvarach?

The story is set in a world very much like our own, with just a few major differences. One is that slavery is legal there. Slaves must wear metal collars that lock around their neck, making their enslaved status obvious to everyone. Any slave attempting to escape faces the dilemma of how and where to illegally get their collar removed (a crime punishable by enslavement for the remover).

Another difference is the popularity of a martial art called cavvara shil. It is fought with a cavvarach (rhymes with “have a rack”), a weapon similar to a sword but with a steel hook protruding from partway down its top edge. Competitors can strike at each other with their feet as well as with the blades. You win in one of two ways: disarming your opponent (hooking or knocking their cavvarach out of their hands) or pinning their shoulders to the mat for five seconds.

Click here to order The Collar and the Cavvarach from Amazon
for $2.99 a discounted price of just 99 cents through April 30th!

And now, The Gladiator and the Guard, with another awesome cover by the talented Jack Lin!

Excerpt:

Bensin slumped over the handlebars of the exercise bike, trying to catch his breath. He grinned at the little screen flashing green in front of him. I made my goal! Now Ian wouldn’t lash him.

Seeing that Bensin was done, an arena worker came by with a cup. Bensin drained the protein shake, which tasted mostly of pineapple and orange today, and handed the empty cup back. He looked around to see where his trainer was, wondering how long a break he would get before his next assignment.

Ian was busy chewing out Fifty-Five for not meeting his goal on the leg press, and Tim was keeping an eye on Fifty-One and Fifty-Four as they took turns lifting weights and spotting each other. But Riddior strolled over to the Fifties’ training zone and took a look at Bensin’s screen. “Hey, good job! You’re getting better!”

“Thanks.” Riddior was Skeyvian, and seemed to be the only really nice person who worked at Red Arena. Broad-shouldered, dark-skinned, probably in his forties, Bensin had learned that he was Red Arena’s training manager. He supervised all the trainers and oversaw the workout plans they created for their glads. Sometimes he pulled glads aside for special training sessions in certain martial arts.

Riddior was also the only person in charge who didn’t carry a shockwhip or dartblower. Of course, he was always flanked by a guard or two who did, but Bensin couldn’t imagine any glads wanting to hurt Riddior. He handed out compliments and encouragement, never punishing or even scolding.

“I was watching yesterday as you practiced cavvara shil,” Riddior told Bensin. “You’ve got real talent. You’re better than some of the guys who’ve been training here for years.”

“Thanks,” Bensin repeated, grinning once again. Riddior’s compliment made him think of Coach Steene, who had also been generous with the encouragement — and who had gotten him this good in the first place. The thought of Coach made him angry, but he pushed aside the bitter thoughts since Riddior was still talking.

“A couple more weeks and I think you’ll be ready to represent us out on the sand against another arena. I know you’re still recovering from some injuries at the moment, but those don’t seem to be holding you back much, and from what Doc tells me, you’re recovering nicely.”

Something tightened in Bensin’s gut. His cheek and nose still hurt, and he sported some colorful bruises from the duel that should have ended in his death, but he knew he really was doing pretty well. Yet the thought of fighting out there again ….

Purchase your copy and check out the Rafflecopter below!!

Click here to order The Gladiator and the Guard in Kindle format from Amazon
for $2.99 a discounted price of just 99 cents through April 30th!

Click here to order The Gladiator and the Guard from Smashwords (for Nook or in other digital formats)
for $2.99 a discounted price of just 99 cents through April 30th!

Annie Douglass Lima spent most of her childhood in Kenya and
later graduated from Biola University in Southern California. She and her
husband Floyd currently live in Taiwan, where she teaches fifth grade at
Morrison Academy. She has been writing poetry, short stories, and novels since
her childhood, and to date has published twelve books (two YA action and
adventure novels, four fantasies, a puppet script, and five anthologies of her
students’ poetry). Besides writing, her hobbies include reading (especially
fantasy and science fiction), scrapbooking, and international travel.

Connect with the Author Online:

Email: AnnieDouglassLima@gmail.com
Blog: http://anniedouglasslima.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AnnieDouglassLimaAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/princeofalasia
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGoodreads
Amazon Author Page: http://bit.ly/AnnieDouglassLimaOnAmazon
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/AnnieDouglassLima
LinkedIn: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnLinkedIn
Google Plus: http://bit.ly/ADLimaOnGooglePlus

Now, enter to win an Amazon gift card or a free digital copy of The Collar and the Cavvarach!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Or find the giveaway at this link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ad2fd99a3/?

Thanks for stopping!

Barbara

A Steampunk adventure of zodgilla proportions!

December 4, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ FALL BOOK BASH

The Fall Book Bash wouldn’t be complete without some steampunk fantasy. So today we have author Ichabod Temperance sharing an excerpt from his latest adventure, The Seventh Voyage of Temperance.

Sit back and enjoy the ride…

“Leapin’ lizards, Miss Plumtartt, we’ve got big trouble, really big trouble!”

“Indeed, Mr. Temperance, for unethical experiments carried out in this remote locale, somewhere south of Nippon, has left this Monstrous Isle aswarm with uncanny creatures of titanic dimensions, eh hem?”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am, and if we ain’t careful, one extra jumbo-sized mega-reptile is going to run rampant all over our unsuspecting planet!”

“Then let us gather what comrades we may, however unlikely they be, and face this, the greatest of your challenges: Ichabod Temperance versus the Monarch of all Monsters!”

The SEVENTH VOYAGE of TEMPERANCE (excerpt)

“You guys are in big trouble! Do you know who I am? I am the idol of every teenager in the range of my voice! You guys are like some kind of broadcast pirates! You g… Did you feel that? I felt the Earth shake. There it is again: one resounding Earth tremor after another. The Earth-shaking rumbles are growing with intensity. It is as if the ground were being pummeled by an impossibly huge weight. Now I can hear the approaching tread of trepidation! Oh, why does the sound grip my heart in an icy grip of nameless dread? Aieee! You guys were right! Look over there! It is a giant super-monster!”

“Oh my goodness, Jubei, it’s ZodGila! He is here already! ToeKey-Oh will never evacuate in time! What can we do?”

“Ichsa-bod, hurry and follow me back to the dyno-cycle!”

“Yessir!”

“Remove the port side stylish, aerodynamic foil stabilizer while I disengage the starboard side.”

“Wow! I didn’t know these big, pointy, aerodynamic stabilizers pointing rearward from the dyno-cycle were removable! I just thought they looked good and made the scooter look like it was going faster! That’s pretty neat! Oh, I see, these are really a set of those air service corps devices.”

“Hai, Ichsa-bod, Be sure it is strapped on as tightly as possible.”

“Yessir, Mr. Trevorgawa, sir. They sure do have a lot of straps to ensure a snug fit, don’t they, sir?”

“Hai, Ichsa-bod. Now, hurry, and follow me. We must quickly scale this broadcast tower.”

“What for, sir?”

“This will be our launching platform.”

“Launching platform? … Oh. Um, are these things difficult to operate?”

“Hai.”

“Hi! Oh, well, I guess this will be kind of like learning to swim. Paw-Paw just chucked me out in the middle of the river, and I pretty much learned how to swim quick.”

“Hai, this will be a similar experience, though it may be easier to liken it to a fledgling bird, leaving its nest.”

“Yessir, I reckon that’ll be the more appropriate analogy. Well, here we are, on the top of this high, broadcast tower that soars into the air overlooking this wide, harbour basin. Wow, this tower’s height is a lot more impressive from up here than on the ground.”

“Put on this leather helmet.”

“Yessir.”

“Now put on these goggles.”

“What for?”

“They complete the ensemble. Now, are you ready?”

“To jump off this lofty tower and hope that this crazy winged contraption operates? I reckon I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get her accomplished!”

“Hai! Hadjame!”

“Gulp! Geronimo!”

“Quit thrashing about, Ichsa-bod, you are going to crash!”

“Woah-I’m trying, sir. Man, you weren’t kidding about these things being difficult to operate! Okay, I got my steel framework leather wings deployed in time to keep from falling to my death, so all I need to do is get them to flapping and maybe I can regain some altitude. Hey do you hear that? Oh, it’s Toshi Watusi. He has resumed his broadcast.”

~whump, bump, bump.~

~buh, duh, duh.~

~whump. bump. bump.~

~buh-duh-duh.~

~whump. bump. bump.~

~buh-duh-duh.~

~whump, bump, bump.~

~buh, duh, duh, whump.~

~wheer-rheel.~

~buh-duh-duh, whump.~

~wheer-rheel.~

~buh-duh-duh, whump.~

~wheer-rheel.~

~buh-duh-duh, whump.~

~wheer-rheel.~

“Pointed teeth,”

“ fill the grimace”

“of his terrible smile,”

“Our city is imperiled”

“by an uber-crocodile.”

~whump. bump. bump.~

“ZodGila!”

~whump, bump, bump~

~whump.~

“He picks up a ship,”

“and throws it back down,”

“His roar rips the air”

“with a terrible sound.”

~whump. bump. bump.~

“ZodGila!”

“Woah——-oah!”

“Good-bye ToeKey-Oh!”

“Crushed by ZodGila!”

“Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo!”

“It’s time for us to blow!”

“Everybody in ToeKey-Oh!”

“Flee from ZodGila!”

“Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo!”

~buh-duh-duh, whump.~

~wheer-rheel~

“History is indicative”

“again and again,”

“How nature points out”

“the silliness of Man.”

~whump. bump. bump.~

“ZodGila!”

“Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo!”

~~~Purchase> The Seventh Voyage of Temperance on Amazon

Ichabod Temperance is a silly little fellow living in picturesque Irondale, Alabama, with his lovely, gracious and kind muse, Miss Persephone Plumtartt, and their furry pack family. His uncanny Trans-temporal-universo-scriptometer allows him to publish his adventures in our timeline.

Ickys Amazon page Icky on twitter Icky on facebook

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for stopping by and being a part of The Fall Book Bash. Take a moment and leave a comment for Icky below!

Barbara

Politics as usual…

November 30, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

It may be the last day of November, but The Fall Book Bash continues with another great excerpt, this time from author Paul Cwalina. Reviewers of Paul’s first novel, DROPPING STONES, have used the words gripping, emotional roller coaster, disturbing, and literary classic to convey their appreciation of his story. Many of them hoped for a sequel. Well here it is! Today Paul is sharing an excerpt with us from the second book in his Dropping Stones series, KINGMAKER.

~~After a man destroys his own life, where does he go from there? Lost and confused, the mayor starts over, his new life a delicate balance between mourning and moving forward. A second shot at a political career comes to him, so he pursues his dream of becoming part of the Washington, DC power scene. Just when he thinks he’s getting it together, the balance is threatened as a woman bearing the fruit of his sinful past confronts him and demands accountability. Her determination and uncompromising ways force him to choose between what he wants and what he needs. He thinks he’s finally got it right until another equally determined woman relentlessly pursues him. She may have the ability to deliver his dreams and more, but at what cost? He squandered his first chance at success and true love. Will the siren call of power politics be his down fall again? ~~

Born and raised in northeastern Pennsylvania, Paul Cwalina is the grandson of immigrant

coalminers. By day, he is a marketing executive and an economics geek, as well as a politics junkie.

Citing Ernest Hemingway’s “Farewell to Arms” as the spark that ignited his desire to write, the author is now turning his long-dormant passion and hobby into a way to tell a story to the world.

“I don’t write ‘comfortable’ stories. I want my readers to be affected and to think; to get out of their comfort zones just a bit. The biggest compliment I receive on ‘Dropping Stones’ is that the story stays with a person long after they’ve read it. To me, that says ‘mission accomplished’.”

Paul lives with his wife and children in Drums, Pennsylvania.

Connect with Paul online: Facebook Twitter Amazon author page

KINGMAKER (excerpt)

The doors to the elevator opened as soon as I got back and we stepped in. The doors closed and I was still processing what I had just seen in the restaurant when Jennifer stepped in front of me and poked her finger into my chest.

“Don’t you ever try to stop me from speaking my mind again. I’m not some accessory you’re going to wear to cocktail parties,” she said.

With the back of my left hand, I swept her finger away. “Don’t give me that I-am-woman-hear-me-roar garbage. Do you have any idea what you cost me in there?”

“What I cost you? Excuse me?” she said in a raised voice.

“There is no way he’s going to put someone on the White House staff who has a loose cannon for a spouse!” I yelled back.

She stopped and stared hard into my eyes. Her anger melted into disappointment and hurt. “White House staff? You lied to me. You’re still planning to work here. To live here. You’ve been lying to me this whole time.” She stopped me cold. I was so consumed with anger that I unwittingly revealed what I had to keep hidden from Jennifer: that I never gave up on moving to DC. I put my head down and exhaled hard. “I wasn’t lying. I was just hoping you would change your mind.”

Jennifer turned, stepped back to my side and leaned against the back wall of the elevator. When the doors opened, she practically bolted for the door and kept walking. With her pregnancy it was easy to catch up to her, but that clearly wasn’t what she wanted. We were silent for the entire walk back to the hotel and the elevator to our floor.

“I’m going to bed,” she said as soon as we entered the room. “Turn around so I can get undressed.”

I turned and stared at the wall. I heard her slip out of her clothes. “There’s a time and place for everything. That wasn’t the time or place,” I said.

“And when would be a good time? You keep telling me this guy is going to be president. Should I wait until then? Should I wait until he’s insulated and cut off from the real world and surrounded by a bunch of sycophants and yes-men? I had the chance to point out the error of his thinking and I took advantage of it.”

“You embarrassed him.”

“His lack of insight did that, not me. And if he can’t handle it, tough,” she said confidently. “And if you can’t handle it, you know where the door is.” I heard her slip into bed.

“I certainly do,” I said, frustrated. I got undressed in the dark and collapsed into my bed.

I spent two restless hours trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep. I thought about the dinner with Rick, but mostly about the tension between Jennifer and me. I couldn’t tell which was more frustrating—our differences or the fact that I was falling in love with someone who wasn’t impressed in the least with my success or what I did for a living.

~~~

Thanks for stopping! Leave a comment or question for Paul and make sure to pick up your FREE kindle copy of the the 1st book in The Dropping Stones series November 30th!

Barbara

An unforgettable love

November 22, 2015 By Barbara 1 Comment

Today’s excerpt makes an even dozen in The Fall Book Bash! So many great books to choose from and Christmas only weeks away. Paperbacks make great under the tree gifts, but ebooks can be terrific stocking stuffers. They don’t take up much room at all:) If you missed any excerpts, make sure and scroll back through the earlier posts. We’ve had lots of different genres and authors.

Author Marianne Sciucco is sharing an excerpt today from her novel, BLUE HYDRANGEAS. It sounds like a very intriguing and possibly heart-rending love story. But you decide. Read on for the blurb, excerpt, and a little about the author…

What if the person who knew you best and loved you most forgot your face, and couldn’t remember your name? A care facility is everyone’s solution for what to do about Sara, but her husband, Jack, can’t bear to live without her. He is committed to saving his marriage, his wife, and their life together from the devastation of Alzheimer’s disease. He and Sara retired years ago to the house of their dreams, and operated it as a Cape Cod bed and breakfast named Blue Hydrangeas. Jack has made an impossible promise: He and Sara will stay together in their beautiful home no matter what the disease brings. However, after nine years of selfless caregiving, complicated by her progressing Alzheimer’s and his own failing heart, he finally admits he can no longer care for her at home. With reluctance, he arranges to admit her to an assisted living facility. But, on the day of admission, Sara is having one of her few good days, and he is unable to follow through. Instead, he takes them on an impulsive journey to confront their past and reclaim their future. In the end, he realizes that staying together at any cost is what truly matters.

BLUE HYDRANGEAS (excerpt)

A chilly draft greeted him as he entered the kitchen and saw the sliding door to the deck was unlatched. Is Sara outdoors in this wretched rain? he thought. Has she gone for a walk? She never takes her walk until after her first cup of coffee. He noted the automatic coffeepot, silent on the kitchen counter, too early to brew. He ignored the rising panic in his gut and dressed for the weather, grabbing his jacket and putting on shoes before heading out the back door.

Jack circled the house, shouting her name. He didn’t find her in the cutting garden or in the back yard. He worked his way down the driveway, feeling foolish for panicking. She’d probably decided to take her walk before breakfast. Still, a troublesome thought in the back of his mind suggested this was not the case.

Sara had several routes to walk throughout the development. She used the established walking paths, but also traveled along the main streets, admiring her neighbor’s homes and gardens and stopping to chat with anyone she passed.

Jack took off along this route. He walked quickly and saw no one. With each step he tried to convince himself he worried for nothing, praying at any moment he’d turn a corner and see her coming toward him, a smile on her face, eager to tell him about a bird she’d observed or a new planting in someone’s yard. He didn’t see her.

As he approached the path to Falmouthport Beach, he paused, ready to turn back because Sara avoided the beach, complaining it was too breezy, especially when it was raining. Walking on sand was a struggle and she feared losing her balance. She preferred to stay on the road where the ground was level.

However, at the last moment something urged him to head for the shore. He quickly made his way there, the wind pushing against him. The tide was rolling in and the sound of crashing waves drowned out everything else. The beach was deserted. He shielded his eyes with his hands and searched the coastline.

She stood at the edge of the surf, her thick, white hair loose and flowing in the wind, whipping about her face, her legs splayed, her arms held out for balance. The open ocean rolled and churned toward her, making her seem small and frail. He raced toward her, screaming her name. She turned at his voice and stumbled, falling into the water, landing on her hands and knees.

He plunged into the water and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to her feet. “My God, Sara, what are you doing out here?” he asked, breathless from his efforts. He rubbed her arms in a desperate attempt to make her warm.

“I don’t know,” she cried. “I’m all mixed up.”

The frigid water soaked through his shoes and socks. She shivered against him, her thin, flannel nightgown plastered against her body. He covered her with his jacket and led her away from the water. They labored across the beach to the path that led home.

He draped an arm over her shoulders and they stumbled back to the house. It seemed to take forever. Sara shivered uncontrollably, short of breath, her chest heaving. Jack struggled with every step, winded by the exertion of holding her up and propelling her forward. The rain continued to pelt them, but it had subsided a bit and they were able to maneuver through it with little difficulty.

They finally arrived home. He guided her through the front door and into the family room where he removed her wet nightgown, covered her with a blanket, and led her to the couch, easing her onto the soft cushions.

She cried, making little gasping sounds and repeating, “I’m so mixed up,” in a pitiful voice that chilled him to his core.

He made coffee, brought her a cup, and held it to her lips. She sipped carefully and flopped back against the couch, her blue eyes shiny with tears.

“Oh, Jack,” she moaned. “What’s happening to me?”

Purchase BLUE HYDRANGEAS: Amazon Barnes&Noble

Now thru Nov 24th, get Blue Hydrangeas for just .99¢ and visit Marianne and her friends for a special Facebook event> AlzAuthors: Ending the isolation of Alzheimer’s

~~~

Marianne Sciucco is not a nurse who writes but a writer who happens to be a nurse. A lover of words and books, she dreamed of becoming an author when she grew up but became a nurse to avoid poverty. She later brought her two passions together and writes about the intricate lives of people struggling with health and family issues. Her debut novel “Blue Hydrangeas,” an Alzheimer’s love story, is a Kindle bestseller, IndieReader Approved, a BookWorks featured book, a Library Journal Self-e Selection, a 5-star Readers Favorite, and winner of IndieReCon’s Best Indie Novel Award, 2014. She also has two short stories available on Kindle, “Ino’s Love” and “Collection.” Marianne is currently working on a YA novel, “Swim Season,” about the new girl on the team who challenges a longstanding school record, to be released in 2015. A dedicated Swim Mom for ten years, you can find her during swim season at one of many Skyline Conference swim meets cheering for her daughter and her team. A native Bostonian, Marianne lives in New York’s Hudson Valley, and when not writing works as a campus nurse at a community college. She loves books, the beach, and craft beer, and especially enjoys the three of them together.

Connect with Marianne: Author website Facebook Goodreads Creatspace Youtube

Thanks for stopping by! If you enjoyed this excerpt, please leave a comment.

Barbara

A hero in war, a coward at love

November 19, 2015 By Barbara 1 Comment

THE FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ THE FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ THE FALL BOOK BASH

We’ve had so many great excerpts this past month that my kindle reader is starting to bulge at the seams. But it’s not over yet! Today, author Naomi Musch is sharing an excerpt from her historical romance, THE LOVE COWARD. What a great title, right? I can’t wait to read this one. So let’s get started.

~~Naomi Musch is a multi-published, award-winning author who writes inspirational women’s fiction and romance, while living as epically as God allows with husband Jeff and their expanding family in the pristine north woods of Wisconsin. The Love Coward is a vintage historical from Desert Breeze Publishing.

She invites readers to say hello and find out more about her stories, passions, and other writing venues at http://www.naomimusch.com or to look her up on Facebook (Naomi Musch – Author) and Twitter (NMusch). ~~

World War II is over. Now that Burke Delgard is safely home, Tulla Johanson can finally quit the factory and become his wife. Together they can revive her family’s farm, while she cares for her aging parents. But seven years of dreams shatter when Burke backs out on their wedding day. Hiding her humiliation in the back seat of a Hudson, she is rescued by Burke’s war buddy and would-be best man Steven “Van” Vandreel.

Home isn’t the same for Van since returning from overseas. He feels displaced, and he certainly doesn’t mean to get between Burke and his jilted bride, yet he can hardly help himself. When Tulla’s friend Walt pursues her, and Burke decides he wants Tulla back, Van is forced to face his own feelings and fears. Can he commit to her any better than Burke did, or will deep scars from his past prove him to be just another love coward?

THE LOVE COWARD (excerpt) by Naomi Musch

1947

Tulla checked her Red Majesty lipstick against the bright glare of the light bulb bouncing off the mirror. She tilted her head to see past the smudges and dust streaked across the glass, hoping she’d produced the advertisement’s “petal finish” and “inviting glow” that could warm a man’s heart. She snapped the lipstick tube closed and dropped it in her purse perched on the edge of a ceramic sink then brushed a hand over her navy skirt — again.

“You can breathe, Tulla.”

Oh. Tulla closed her eyes, let calming air expand her lungs, then exhaled and opened her eyes slowly. She glanced at her best friend Joan. “Keep reminding me. It still doesn’t feel real.”

“When Burke slides that shiny ring on your finger, it’ll feel real enough.”

Tulla sighed and fanned herself with her hand. The one small window of the tiny bathroom in the basement of the church was open, but little air circulated around them. Sunlight streamed in, however, highlighting dancing dust mites. Joan shouldered close to Tulla and leaned in toward the mirror while she clipped heavy, beaded earrings to the lobes of her dainty ears.

She turned to Tulla and smiled. “You look beautiful, sweets. He won’t even think twice when he sees you.”

“Oh, he’s way past thinking twice.” She turned back to the mirror and tucked away a dark strand of hair at the nape of her neck.

“Poo. He’s over all that.”

“I hope so.”

Tap, tap, tap. Both women jumped at the three staccato raps on the door.

Tulla’s heart fluttered. “Oh, no! Is it time? Joan, hurry, I don’t even have my veil on.”

Joan leaned her cheek against the women’s room door. “Yes?”

“It’s Van — um — Steven Vandreel. I have something for Tulla.”

Joan cracked the door open an inch and blinked through the opening. “You by yourself? Burke can’t see the bride you know.”

“Uh — oh, yeah. It’s just me. Give this to Tulla, will ya?”

“Oh, sure.” Joan grinned and smacked her gum. She reached through the opening and accepted a small folded square of paper. “A love note, huh? Can’t wait? Tullie, your lover boy sent you a note.” Joan closed the door and waggled her eyebrows.

“What?” Tulla took the two-inch folded square of dull notebook paper and turned toward the light. Burke wasn’t much of a love letter kind of guy, but maybe he was just a little bit excited today too. That or he forgot his tie or something. “What’s he up to?” She forced a smile at Joan to hide a sudden case of trembling.

Tulla, I need to talk to you. I know I’m not supposed to see you before the wedding, but it can’t wait.

~~Purchase a copy of The Love Coward at these stores~~

DBP Amazon Barnes & Noble Christian Book Distributors

Hope you enjoyed this excerpt. Please leave a comment below!

Barbara

A smart-mouthed P.I. & a by-the-book cop

November 7, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

The FALL BOOK BASH is still going strong! Nike Chillemi is with us today to answer a couple questions about her writing and to share an excerpt from DEADLY DESIGNS. She is definitely on my list of favorite mystery authors and her resume is pretty awesome.

Like so many writers, Nike Chillemi started writing at a very young age. She still has the Crayola, fully illustrated book she penned (colored might be more accurate) as a little girl about her then off-the-chart love of horses. Today, you might call her a crime fictionista. Her passion is crime fiction. She likes her bad guys really bad and her good guys smarter and better.

Nike is the founding board member of the Grace Awards and is its Chair, a reader’s choice awards for excellence in Christian fiction. She has been a judge in the 2011, 2012, 2013, and 2014 Carol Awards in the suspense, mystery, and romantic suspense categories; and an Inspy Awards 2010 judge in the Suspense/Thriller/Mystery category. Her four novel Sanctuary Point series, set in the mid-1940s has finaled, won an award, and garnered critical acclaim. HARMFUL INTENT released under the auspices of her own publishing company, Crime Fictionista Press, won in the Grace Awards 2014 Mystery/Thriller/Romantic Suspense/Historic Suspense category. Her new release is DEADLY DESIGNS. She has written book reviews for The Christian Pulse online magazine. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and John 3:16 Marketing Network.

Connect with Nike online: Author website Twitter Facebook

Give us an insight into your main character. What does he/she do that is so special?

Nike: Veronica “Ronnie” Ingels, the heroine in DEADLY DESIGNS, is a terrific gal. Nobody could want a better or more loyal friend. However, she can be trying and annoying. She’s got a lot of baggage and is socially inept. This comes from her dad having been openly and repeatedly unfaithful to her mom when Ronnie was a pre-teen. Then he divorced her mom and married his secretary. This was not only humiliating for Ronnie and her mom; it left them struggling in poverty. With great effort and determination, Ronnie was able to finish school, go to college, and make a career for herself as a private investigator. She’s got a sassy sense of humor and shoots off zingers to her friends and associates.

Do you have a special time to write? A special place to write?

Nike: I like to write in the morning, but after everyone’s gone to school or to work for the day. I’m retired so that works for me. Everything is quiet then and I can totally concentrate on writing. I find I also get a second wind in the late evening. Usually, things have calmed down by then. The dishes are done and the house has settled down. That’s also a good time to write. As far as a special place to write…I have my computer desk. We live in a two-floor, three bedroom, brick, attached-house in Brooklyn. A three bedroom in the city isn’t as large as one in the suburbs or in a rural area, and our lot is tiny. My writing space is my desk…that’s it. A lot has come out of this little writing space.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Private investigator Veronica “Ronnie” Ingels teams up with Deputy Dawson Hughes to find a geeky radio broadcaster’s missing wife and young daughter. They fear the woman and child were taken by Islamic terrorists as revenge against the husband’s pro-Israel, conspiracy theory broadcasts.

Hughes has recently been promoted to lieutenant in the Taylor County, Texas Sheriff’s Department. He’s on leave on a special assignment with Authorized Operations (AO), a clandestine, quasi-government agency operating out of a sea-side mansion in Hither Hills, NY. The only thing is, many powerful politicians, and government big-wigs claim Authorized Operations doesn’t exist.

Ronnie is furious at both Hughes and the broadcaster for waiting thirty-six hours to start the search. She knows the longer it takes, the less chance there is of finding the child alive. The problem is, radio talk-show host Ed Harper has been hoping-against-hope that his pot-smoking, model wife is on one of her ‘esoteric experiences’ and has simply taken the child while she romps for a few days. He doesn’t want to seriously consider the other, more hazardous possibility… that his radio broadcasts have angered some very dangerous people.

DEADLY DESIGNS (excerpt)

Dunst, CT

Day One, Friday, Early Afternoon

Veronica “Ronnie” Ingels, Private Detective

What was wrong with Hughes? As a lawman, he had to have known better. He should’ve called in the local police a day and a half ago. What was he thinking? In a missing child case, time was essential, and they’d wasted a whole lot of precious hours.

I chewed off what was left of the pink polish on my thumb nail, gunned my Chevy Cruze Eco, and moved into the left lane on Interstate 95. In a time that now seemed distant, my late husband noted the car’s topaz-blue metallic finish matched my eyes. Of course, he’d been staring into another’s eyes, and I was the last to know about it.

When I resurfaced from my self-depreciating musing, New York State was behind me, and I-95 had become the Connecticut Turnpike. I hit the gas pedal again, but then changed my mind and slowed down. If I got pulled over for speeding that would waste even more time.

After another forty-five minutes, I bore down on the exit for Dunst. Following the instructions of the female voice on my GPS brought me to Main Street of this working-class village. It wasn’t exactly run-down, but could use some renewal in places. But, then, who was I to pass judgment? I lived in Brooklyn where the pigeons were as large as some single-engine planes and the subway rats even larger.

I made a turn onto Pequot Street and three houses later pulled into the driveway of a quaint, gray salt-box house, with miniscule front windows and a tiny garage. I parked behind a black Ford Explorer rental, and a tricked-out Harley Davidson motorcycle.

After grabbing my conceal-and-carry shoulder bag, I got out of the car, and clicked the key fob to lock the doors. When I’m driving long distances it’s more comfortable to have my Glock in a handbag than in a clip-on holster, sticking me in the side mile-after-mile.

I rang the bell and a geeky guy with squarish horn-rimmed glasses opened the door. Dawson Hughes stood several feet behind him.

A shadow passed over the man’s eyes and they narrowed. I couldn’t determine if it was confusion, or guilt and remorse. He took a faltering step back. “Um, come in, won’t you?”

I did, and marched directly to Hughes. “We’re thirty-six hours into a missing child case. Why haven’t the police been called?”

Hughes grimaced and held both hands up, palms out, in a stopping stance. “Whoa. Janus Agard notified the authorities over an hour ago.”

“I’m thrilled somebody finally decided to do something. Just who is Janus Agard, and what’s he got to do with the case?”

*** Purchase DEADLY DESIGNS ***

Hope you enjoyed the interview and excerpt. Please leave a comment below!

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