Giveaway – Dead West by Linda L Richards @partnersincr1me @lindalrichards

Dead West by Linda L Richards Banner

Dead West

by Linda L Richards

September 4 – 29, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Still struggling towards the light, this time the assignment is to save, not kill.

Taking lives has taken its toll. Her moral justifications have faltered. Do any of the the people she has killed — some of them heinous, but all of them human — deserve to die?

Her next target is Cameron Walker, a rancher in Arizona. When she arrives at his remote desert estate to carry out her orders, she discovers that he is a kind and beautiful man. After a lengthy tour of the ranch, not only has she not killed him, she’s wondering who might want him dead.

She procrastinates long enough that a vibe grows between them. At the same time, she learns that he’s passionate about wild horses and has been fighting a losing political battle to save the mustangs that live on protected land near his property. He’s even received death threats from those who oppose him.

She finds herself trying to protect the man she was sent to kill, following a trail that leads from the desert, to the Phoenix cognoscenti, to the highest offices in Washington, DC. Along the way she encounters kidnappers and killers, horse thieves and even human traffickers. Hopefully she can figure out who ordered the hit before they hire someone else to execute the assignment.

Praise for Dead West:

“Linda L. Richards delivers yet another riveting entry in her hired killer series. Set mostly in Arizona desert country, Dead West is a dust devil of a story, twisting in wildly unpredictable ways and with a powerful emotional center. But this book isn’t just a marvelously compelling thriller; it also cries out passionately for protection of the endangered wild horses of the West. Kudos to Richards for seamlessly weaving an important message into the fabric of a terrific tale.”
~ William Kent Krueger, New York Times bestselling author

“When a contract killer’s wounded conscience begins to awaken, it only heightens the dangers of her profession. In Dead West, the incomparable Linda L. Richards poses the possibility of redemption and recovery for her tragic heroine, all while sending her – and us – on a deadly thrill ride through the stunning Arizona wilderness.”
~ Clea Simon, Boston Globe bestselling author

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller, Noir, Suspense
Published by: Oceanview Publishing
Publication Date: September 2023
Number of Pages: 320
ISBN: 9781608095124 (ISBN10: 1608095126)
Series: The Endings Series, Book 3
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Oceanview Publishing

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE

I’m sitting on a beach. It’s a ridiculous proposition. Fluffy white clouds are scudding through a clear, blue sky. Surfers are running around carrying boards, often over their heads. Then they plunge into a sea that looks deadly to my non-surfing eyes. Palm trees are waving, and the air is so neutral, you don’t have to think about it. Soft, welcoming air. You just float right through.

The view is beautiful. It’s like a movie backdrop. A painting. Something skillfully manufactured to look hyper-real. Textbook paradise, that’s what I’m talking about.

I’m sitting on this beach, trying not to think about the reason I’m here. But it’s hard. Difficult. To not think about it, I mean. I’m here, in paradise, because someone has to die.

Someone will die.

I got the assignment a few days ago. I flew to this island to pull it off.

My target is a businessman who lives on this island in the South Pacific. He is the kind of self-made guy who has achieved every goal in life and would seem to have everything to live for. Only now, apparently, someone wants him dead because here I am, ready for business.

So I stake him out. You need to understand at least the basics of who someone is before you snuff them out. This is the idea that I have. I’m not going all sensitive on you or anything, that’s just how it is. In order to do the best possible job in this business, you need to understand a little about who they are. It’s not a rule or anything, it’s just how I feel.

His name is Gavin White, and I researched him a bit before I got here. He made his fortune in oil and wax, which is an odd enough combo that you perk up your ears. Only it doesn’t seem to matter: the source of the income would seem to have nothing to do with the hit. Would seem to, because there is only so much I can learn about that, really. On the surface, anyway, I can find no direct connection between Gavin White’s livelihood and the death that someone has planned for him and that I am now further planning.

I follow him and his S560 cabriolet all over the tropical island. He makes a few stops. I watch what he does, how he moves and who he interacts with. Some of it might matter. I’m not doing it for my health. I’m watching him so I can determine when I might best have advantage when I go to take him out. There are always multiple times and different places to fulfill my assignment and usually only one—or maybe two—that are virtually flawless. Sometimes not even that. So I watch.

And it’s more than an opportunity I’m looking for, though that can play a part. It’s also a matter of identifying what will make my job not only easier, but also safest from detection. And so I watch. And I wait.

As I follow him, he stops first at a bank. Does some business— I’ll never know what. After that he visits his mom. At least, I guess it is his mom. An older woman he seems affectionate with. From my rental car, I can see them through a front room window. There is a hug and then a wave. It could be a bookkeeper for all I know. But mom is what I guess.

After a while he heads to the beach. He sits on the sand, contemplative for a while. I think about taking him there; full contemplation. But it is crude and much too exposed.

More time passes before he takes off his shoes, leaves them on the beach, and walks into the surf. I leave my car and take up a spot on the sand, just plopping myself down not far from his shoes.

I watch him surreptitiously. It is obvious he did not come to the beach to swim. He is fully clothed and he hasn’t left a towel behind there with his shoes. There is none of the paraphernalia one associates with a visit to the beach, even if this were one that is intended for swimming, which it is not. Signs warn of possible impending doom for those who venture into the water.

“Strong current,” warns one sign under a fluorescent flag. “If in doubt, don’t go out.”

“Dangerous shore break,” warns another. “Waves break in shallow water. Serious injuries could occur, even in small surf.”

I don’t know if Gavin White read the signs, or noticed them, but even though he is still fully clothed, he steps into the water anyway.

First, he gets his feet wet. Not long after, he wades in up to his knees. He hesitates when the water is at mid-thigh, and he stops there. For a while, it seems to me, it is like a dance. He stands facing the horizon, directly in front of where I sit. His shoulders are squared. There is something stoic in his stance. I can’t explain it. Squared and stoic.

Waves break against him, push him back. He allows the push, then makes his way back to the spot where he had stood before.

Before long, he ventures deeper still. The dance. I watch for a while, fascinated. I wonder if there is anything I should do. But no. The dance. Two steps forward, then the waves push him back.

And now he is in deeper still, and further from shore. I see a wave engulf him completely, and I hold my breath. He doesn’t struggle, but then I see him rise, face the horizon, square his shoulders.

The waves are strong and beautiful. And they are eerily clear, those waves. Sometimes I can see right inside them. Careful glass tubes of water, I can even observe that from shore.

For a while he stands like that, facing the horizon—a lull in the action of the waves. And then he is engulfed once again. I hold my breath, but this time he doesn’t rise.

I sit there for a long time, considering. And waiting. My breathing shallow. But he doesn’t reappear.

After half an hour, I text my handler.
“It is done,” is all I say, just as I know she will expect.
It was not my hand, but the mission has been accomplished regardless. No one knows better than me that there are many ways to die.

CHAPTER TWO

There are many ways to die.
I think I have died many times. Certainly, I’ve wanted to.
I died when I lost my child. Died later when I lost my husband, even though by then there was little love left between us. Still. I died.

I died the first time I took someone’s life. At the time it felt like living, but I didn’t yet know the difference. And then there was the time I had to kill someone I loved. I died that time, too.

Sometimes I believe I have died so much that I’ve forgotten how to live. That I should most correctly walk into a waiting undertow just like Gavin White did. I don’t know what stops me, honestly. I don’t. Though there are days when it’s a very close thing.

This isn’t one of those days.

When my phone rings, it tells me the call is coming from Kiribati, a place I’ve barely heard of before. All of her calls are like that. Routed through some other place. They might be chosen for their convenience, but I think they are also selected for the mirth they might provide. I’m not certain she has a wicked sense of humor, but I suspect it, pretty much.

She never used to call me. For a long time, it was text and email only, secure channels always. And then the calls began. I imagined that it meant we had developed some sort of connection. I no longer wonder about that now.

Whatever the meaning, the calls have never been from normal places; they don’t come from the places one might expect. And none have been from the same odd place twice. They are chosen for some reason I don’t understand. Some inside joke I stand outside of. She can be cryptic that way. Another reason I guess I imagined for a while that we belonged.

“That was efficient,” is what she says by way of greeting.

“What do you mean?” I figure I actually know, but it makes no sense to admit that going in.

“He walked into the sea,” she says. How does she know that? It makes me wonder, but not deeply. It would not be the first time I’ve wondered if there is someone who watches the hunter. It would even make a dark sort of sense.

“Yes,” I say, unquestioning. She has her ways. “That’s right. He did.”

“Hmmm,” she says. And then again, “Hmmm.”

“There are many ways to die,” I say, and by now it feels like gospel. Something sacred. And more true than true. “What I really don’t understand,” I say, sailing into a different direction, “is that you said things weren’t going to be like this anymore.”

“Excuse me?” I am put off by her tone. Surprised. It comes to me from a new place. Unexpected. And she doesn’t back away from it. Goes on just as strongly, instead. “What do you mean by that?” It’s a challenge.

“I’m trying to think how you put it,” I say. “Something about how things have been wrong with the world. How we could . . . how we could make it right.”

“Did I say that?”

“You did,” I reply.

“I do maybe remember something like that. Maybe.”

I feel my heart sink a bit at her words. And why? I can’t even quite put my finger on it. It felt, maybe, like I might be part of something. Again. And now? Now I’m not.

“You did say that,” I say it quietly though. Almost as an aside.

“These things take time, as it turns out. One can’t just flip a switch.” I can hear her pushing on, rushing through. “Meanwhile, I’ve got another one for you,” she says, and I’m relieved that she has tacitly agreed to leave the drowned man to sink or swim. Disappointed by how easily the hopeful words she’d fed me not so long ago could be pushed to one easy side. Disappointed and relieved all in one gulp. It’s an odd thing to feel. I find I don’t like it. “So if you’re ready,” she says.

“Another what?” I ask it, but I suspect I know.

“Job,” she replies, and I wonder why I wasted breath.

“I’m ready enough,” I say, though I’m struggling. I struggle every time.

“Good,” she says. “I’ll send you the details, but I think the juxtaposition of these two will amuse you.”

“How so?” And I try not to digest the irony around any aspect of a contract killing being amusing.

“Well, you’ve just been in the Pacific. Water, water everywhere.

And now you’re heading for the desert.” “I am?”

“You are. Right out into it, in fact. The target is in Arizona.” “Phoenix?” Which is all I really know of Arizona.

“You’ll fly to Phoenix, but, no: the target is near a national park.

Rural. A place you won’t have heard of before, I’m betting. I’ll send the details once I’m off this call.”

When I first get off the phone, I try not to think about it too much. It’s like my brain doesn’t want me to pay attention. Or something. But I put off checking my email. I’ll do it later. Right now, there are things that need my attention.

Okay. “Need” would be an overstatement. There are things. I choose to give them my time. Walks in the forest with the dog. Cooking succulent meals for one. And recently, I have taken up plein air painting, simply because it was there.

When I want to paint, I take the dog and my gear and we hike out to some remote spot and I set up my stuff and I paint what I see. Try to paint what I see. The dog meanwhile amuses himself— chasing squirrels, digging holes, sniffing his own butt. He’s very skilled at self-amusement. I’ve never seen anything like it.

In less clement weather we hunker down and brave it out. I make a fire in the fireplace because it’s beautiful, not because we need the warmth.

There is something idyllic to this life. Easy. After a while it gets even easier to forget . . . forget what? Everything, really. It gets easier to forget to remember.

I paint the dog. My online classes have gone well enough, and I have proven to be a good enough student—and the dog a good enough subject—that I end up with a pretty credible representation of him; something I am proud to hang. And even if I wasn’t, it’s not like anyone is ever going to see.

***

Excerpt from Dead West by Linda L Richards. Copyright 2023 by Linda L Richards. Reproduced with permission from Linda L Richards. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Linda L Richards

Linda L. Richards is the award-winning author of over a dozen books. The founder and publisher of January Magazine and a national board member of Sisters in Crime, she is best known for her strong female protagonists in the thriller genre. Richards is from Vancouver, Canada and currently makes her home in Phoenix, Arizona. Richards is an accomplished horsewoman and an avid tennis player. She enjoys yoga, hiking, cooking and playing guitar, though not at the same time.

You can find her at:
LindaLRichards.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @linda1841
Instagram – @lindalrichards
Twitter – @lindalrichards
Facebook – @lindalrichardsauthor
TikTok – @lindalrichards

Learn More about Linda in this #AuthorInterview!

 

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New Release – Symphony Road by Gabriel Valjan @GValjan @partnersincr1me

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Symphony Road by Gabriel Valjan Banner

Symphony Road

by Gabriel Valjan

February 1-28, 2021 Tour

Synopsis:

Symphony Road by Gabriel Valjan

Trouble comes in threes for Shane Cleary, a former police officer and now, a PI.

Arson. A Missing Person. A cold case.

Two of his clients whom he shouldn’t trust, he does, and the third, whom he should, he can’t.

Shane is up against crooked cops, a notorious slumlord and a mafia boss who want what they want, and then there’s the good guys who may or may not be what they seem.

Praise for Symphony Road:

“The second installment in this noir series takes us on a gritty journey through mid-seventies Boston, warts and all, and presents Shane Cleary with a complex arson case that proves to be much more than our PI expected. Peppered with the right mix of period detail and sharp, spare prose, Valjan proves he’s the real deal.” – Edwin Hill, Edgar finalist and author of Watch Her

“Ostracized former cop turned PI Shane Cleary navigates the mean streets of Boston’s seedy underbelly in Symphony Road. A brilliant follow up to Dirty Old Town, Valjan’s literary flair and dark humor are on full display.” – Bruce Robert Coffin, award-winning author of the Detective Byron Mysteries

“A private eye mystery steeped in atmosphere and attitude.” – Richie Narvaez, author of Noiryorican

Book Details:

Genre: Crime fiction, Procedural, Noir, Historical Fiction
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: January 15, 2021
Number of Pages: 232
ISBN: 978-1-953789-07-5
Series: Shane Cleary Mystery, #2
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

I went to cross the street when the wheels of a black Cadillac sped up and bristled over tempered glass from a recent smash-and-grab. The brake lights pulsed red, and a thick door opened. A big hulk stepped out, and the car wobbled. The man reached into his pocket. I thought this was it. My obituary was in tomorrow’s paper, written in past tense and in the smallest and dullest typeface, Helvetica, because nothing else said boring better.

Click. Click. “I can never get this fucking thing to light.”

It was Tony Two-Times, Mr. B’s no-neck side man. His nickname came from his habit of clicking his lighter twice. “Mr. B wants a word.”

“Allow me.” I grabbed the Bic. The orange flame jumped on my first try and roasted the end of his Marlboro Red. “You really oughta quit.”

“Thanks for the health advice. Get in.”

Tony nudged me into the backseat. I became the meat in the sandwich between him and Mr. B. There was no need for introductions. The chauffeur was nothing more than a back of a head and a pair of hands on the wheel. The car moved and Mr. B contemplated the night life outside the window.

“I heard you’re on your way to the police station to help your friend.”

“News travels fast on Thursday night. Did Bill tell you before or after he called me?”

“I’m here on another matter.”

The cloud of smoke made me cough. Tony Two-Times was halfway to the filter. The chauffeur cracked the window a smidge for ventilation. As I expected, the radio played Sinatra and there were plans for a detour. A string of red and green lights stared back at us through a clean windshield.

“A kid I know is missing,” Mr. B said.

“Kids go missing all the time.”

“This kid is special.”

“Has a Missing Persons Report been filed?”

The look from Mr. B prompted regret. “We do things my way. Understood?”

We stopped at a light. A long-legged working girl with a chinchilla wrap crossed the street. She approached the car to recite the menu and her prices, but one look at us and she kept walking.

“Is this kid one of your own?”

The old man’s hand strummed leather. The missing pinky unnerved me. I’ve seen my share of trauma in Vietnam: shattered bones, intestines hanging out of a man, but missing parts made me queasy. The car moved and Mr. B continued the narrative.

“Kid’s a real pain in my ass, which is what you’d expect from a teenager, but he’s not in the rackets, if that’s what you’re wondering. This should be easy money for you.”

Money never came easy. As soon as it was in my hand, it went to the landlady, or the vet, or the utilities, or inside the refrigerator. I’d allow Mr. B his slow revelation of facts. Mr. B mentioned the kid’s gender when he said “he’s not in the rackets.” This detail had already made the case easier for me. A boy was stupider, easier to find and catch. Finding a teenage girl, that took something special, like pulling the wings off of an angel.

“He’s a good kid. No troubles with the law, good in school, excellent grades and all, but his mother seems to think he needed to work off some of that rebellious energy kids get. You know how it is.”

I didn’t. The last of my teen years were spent in rice paddies, in a hundred-seventeen-degree weather—and that was before summer—trying to distinguish friendlies from enemies in a jungle on the other side of the planet. And then there were the firefights, screams, and all the dead bodies.

“Does this kid have a girlfriend?” I asked.

Mr. B said nothing.

“A boyfriend then?” That question made Mr. B twist his head and Tony Two-Times elbowed me hard. “I’ve got to ask. Kids these days. You know, drugs, sex, and rock’ n roll.”

“The kid isn’t like your friend Bill, Mr. Cleary.”

The mister before Cleary was a first. The ribs ached. I caught a flash of the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Mr. B conveyed specifics such as height and weight, build, the last known place the kid was seen, the usual hangouts and habits. This kid was All-American, too vanilla, and Mr. B had to know it. Still, this kid was vestal purity compared to Mr. B, who had run gin during Prohibition, killed his first man during the Depression, and became a made-man before Leave It to Beaver aired its first episode on television.

The car came to a stop. The driver put an emphasis on the brakes. We sat in silence. The locks shot up. Not quite the sound of a bolt-action rifle, but close. Mr. B extended his hand for a handshake. I took it. No choice there. This was B’s way of saying his word was his bond and whatever I discovered during the course of my investigation stayed between us, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

“I’ve got to ask,” I said.

“I’ll pay you whatever you want.”

“It’s not that,” I said, feeling Tony Two-Times’ breath on the back of my neck. “Did you hire Jimmy C to do a job lately?”

“I did not.”

“And Bill called me, just like that?” I knew better than to snap my fingers. Tony would grab my hand and crush my knuckles like a bag of peanuts. A massive paw on the shoulder told me it was time to vacate the premises, but then Mr. B did the tailor’s touch, a light hand to my elbow. “Jimmy is queer like your friend, right?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“When it comes to friends, you forgive certain habits, like I allow this idiot over here to smoke those stupid cigarettes. Capisci?”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“Good. Now, screw off.”

I climbed over Tony Two-Times to leave the car. Door handle in my grip, I leaned forward to ask one last thing, “You know about Jimmy’s predicament?”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Mr. B said.

“What is?”

“I know everything in this town, except where my grandnephew is. Now, shut the door.”

The door clapped shut. I heard bolts hammer down and lock. There was a brief sight of silhouettes behind glass before the car left the curb. I had two cases before breakfast, one in front of me, and the other one, behind me in the precinct house. There was no need for me to turn around. No need either, to read the sign overhead.

The limestone building loomed large in my memory. Two lanterns glowed and the entrance, double doors of polished brass, were as tall and heavy as I remembered them. It was late March and I wasn’t Caesar but it sure as hell felt like the Ides of March as I walked up those marble steps.

***

Excerpt from Symphony Road by Gabriel Valjan. Copyright 2021 by Gabriel Valjan. Reproduced with permission from Gabriel Valjan. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Gabriel Valjan

Gabriel Valjan lives in Boston’s South End. He is the author of the Roma Series and Company Files (Winter Goose Publishing) and the Shane Cleary series (Level Best Books). His second Company File novel, The Naming Game, was a finalist for the Agatha Award for Best Historical Mystery and the Anthony Award for Best Paperback Original in 2020. Gabriel is a member of the Historical Novel Society, International Thriller Writer (ITW), and Sisters in Crime.

Catch Up With Gabriel Valjan:
www.GabrielValjan.com
GabrielsWharf.wordpress.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @gvaljan
Instagram – @gabrielvaljan
Twitter – @GValjan
Facebook

 

 

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My Reviews for the Roma series by Gabriel Valjan

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Giveaway – Copy Boy by Shelley Blanton-Stroud @blantonstroud @iReadBookTours

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Join Us For This Tour from August 24 to September 18, 2020

BOOK DETAILS:
Series Title COPY BOY by Shelley Blanton-Stroud
Category:  Adult Fiction (18+)
Genre Noir, Historical Mystery, Literary
Publisher She Writes Press
Release dates:   June 23, 2020
Content Rating:
PG-13 + M. The book includes: the F-word 7 times, the word “g–dammit” 4 times, and one violent fight in the beginning.

Book Description:

Jane’s a very brave boy. And a very difficult girl. She’ll become a remarkable woman, an icon of her century, but that’s a long way off. Not my fault, she thinks, dropping a bloody crowbar in the irrigation ditch after Daddy. She steals Momma’s Ford and escapes to Depression-era San Francisco, where she fakes her way into work as a newspaper copy boy. Everything’s looking up. She’s climbing the ladder at the paper, winning validation, skill, and connections with the artists and thinkers of her day. But then Daddy reappears on the paper’s front page, his arm around a girl who’s just been beaten into a coma one block from Jane’s newspaper―hit in the head with a crowbar. Jane’s got to find Daddy before he finds her, and before everyone else finds her out. She’s got to protect her invented identity. This is what she thinks she wants. It’s definitely what her dead brother wants.

 

Meet the Author:

Shelley Blanton-Stroud grew up in California’s Central Valley, the daughter of Dust Bowl immigrants who made good on their ambition to get out of the field. She teaches college writing in Northern California and consults with writers in the energy industry. She co-directs Stories on Stage Sacramento, where actors perform the stories of established and emerging authors, and serves on the advisory board of 916 Ink, an arts-based creative writing nonprofit for children. She has also served on the Writers’ Advisory Board for the Belize Writers’ Conference. Copy Boy is her first novel, and she’s currently working on her second. She also writes and publishes flash fiction and non-fiction, which you can find at such journals as Brevity and Cleaver. She and her husband live in Sacramento with an aging beagle and many photos of their out-of-state sons.

Connect with the author:   website  ~  twitter  facebook  ~ instagram ~ bookbub


Tour Schedule:

Aug 24 – Jazzy Book Reviews – book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
Aug 25 – Locks, Hooks and Books – audiobook review / giveaway
Aug 25 – fundinmental – book spotlight / giveaway
Aug 26 – Book Corner News and Reviews – book review / giveaway
Aug 27 – I’m Into Books – book spotlight / giveaway
Aug 28 – Reading Authors Network – book review / giveaway
Aug 28 – PuzzlePaws Blog – audiobook review / giveaway
Aug 31 – Sefina Hawke’s Books – book spotlight
Sep 1 – Gina Rae Mitchell – book review / giveaway
Sep 2 – T’s Stuff – book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
Sep 2 – Literary Flits – book review / giveaway
Sep 3 – She Just Loves Books – audiobook review / giveaway
Sep 4 –Pick a Good Book – book spotlight / giveaway
Sep 7 – Svetlanas reads and views – book review
Sep 8 – 100 Pages A Day – book review / giveaway
Sep 9 – Olio by Marilyn – book spotlight / author interview
Sep 9 – Olio by Marilyn – book review / giveaway
Sep 10 – Books for Books – audiobook review
Sep 11 – Hall Ways Blog – audiobook review / giveaway
Sep 14 – Amy’s Booket List – audiobook review / giveaway
Sep 15 – Casia’s Corner – book review
Sep 16 – Dab of Darkness Audiobook Reviews – audiobook review / author interview / giveaway
Sep 17 –Pen Possessed – book review / giveaway
Sep 18 – My Fictional Oasis – book review
Sep 18 – PuzzlePaws Blog – book review / giveaway

Enter the Giveaway:

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Giveaway – Running Blind by Lisette Kristensen @ev1250 @XpressoReads

Running Blind
Lisette Kristensen
Publication date: May 17th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance, Thriller

A murder mystery that is edgy, raw, and gritty. It’s packed full of danger with wild twist and turns

Baleigh Burgess was trapped. Her world spun out of control the night her partner/lover was gunned down. Facing prison on trumped up drug charges, she was forced to go undercover to find the killer. She wasn’t prepared to face her suspects, her old motorcycle gang, she once ran with back in the day.

Faced with her morals being comprised in proving her loyalty. Concealing her identity which if discovered was certain death. Baleigh lived on the edge and only grew darker when a man, a stone cold killer entered her life. Was he there to kill her or lover her?

Running Blind takes you on a taut, dark murder mystery, where everyone is a suspect and a thin line of betrayal looms at every turn.

Goodreads / Amazon

99¢ for a limited time only!

EXCERPT:

Turning to leave the room, Baleigh stopped dead in her tracks. Voices. A female voice and one she recognized right away… Jodie. Fuck. She could also hear footsteps and there were more than one set. Derrick? Baleigh was stuck at the door entrance. The voices came from the back of the house and it dawned her she did not lock the door. An inward groaned rang through her, they would know right off someone had broken in.

She clutched the revolver and knew she might have to shoot her way out. What seemed like a nice little tattle tale was turning into a shoot out. Baleigh’s whole inside were racked with fear. She had no idea which way to go, cringing she poked her head out to see if she could make out where they were. Glancing down the hall towards the kitchen her eyes could not focus in the darkness.

It was pitch black, no shadows of light which was odd to her. Then with a sudden force something hard smashed to her face. Baleigh had no idea what hit her, she crumbled to the ground as the haunting silence captured her.

 

Author Bio:

Lisette grew up surrounded with stories of intrigue, crime and sordid plots. This led her to become fascinated with film noir and pulp fiction. Studying criminal justice in college she developed an interest with the lurid unsolved cases of Hollywood.

Running Blind is her first venture into the mystery genre, it based on her experiences working for the LAPD Gang Intelligence. Coming soon will be a series of books focused on those cold cases from the glory days of Hollywood.

The Dark Desire Series is four books (including a box set) that follows the path of a troubled woman into the dark depths of erotic hedonism, love and conflict. The series is explicit and with strong sexual content.

You can sign up for Sins Fatal Desire Newsletter at https://www.facebook.com/midnightdream2016/app/100265896690345/

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

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Like the Rockford Files, you’ll love Big Shoes by Jack Getze #JackGetze

Series: Austin Carr Mysteries
Paperback: 198 pages
Publisher: Down & Out Books (September 7, 2015)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1943402051
ISBN-13: 978-1943402052


MY REVIEW
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I have been with Jack Getze’s Austin Carr since the beginning and if you are a fan of The Rockford Files, this stand alone series is a must read. Big Shoes is the latest edition to this rollicking good fun reading and I am very excited to share it with you.

In Big Shoes, Austin Carr is back from a ‘suggested’ vacation and I can’t help but wonder what is in store for him. I know there will never be a dull moment.

Austin Carr always seems to be dodging bullets and being drawn into dangerous situations through his relationships with the quirky, off the wall characters that come into and out of his life.

His biggest downfall is the dame and when she walks into the room, his common sense goes out the window. There is always one involved and he cannot say no to her. He is quick with words and it seems like every time he opens his mouth, he’s getting himself in deeper, pissing off those who would rather punch him than talk to him.

I love the pistol packing, Mama Bones. If organized crime were a comedy, Austin Carr and Mama Bones would be the stars. She carries a ‘bag of tricks’ and ya never know what she will pull from it.

Jack Getze’s marvelous characters and writing keep me cracking up as I weave through the mysteries. His pin-up girl would be Lucille Ball, so that gives you a hint of Jack Getze’s writing style.

If you are looking for a dark comedy mystery noir, Big Shoes and the Austin Carr series fits the bill to a T! The who, what, when, where, and why aren’t as important to me as the hilarious journey to the answers. Ya never know when the bullets will start flying, so be alert and DUCK!

I received a free copy of Big Shoes from Jack Getze.

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Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos   5 Stars

ABOUT THE BOOK

Jersey Shore broker Austin Carr wants out of the stock and bond business but un-hooking from his mobbed-up partner won’t be painless. Angelina “Mama Bones” Bonacelli is best known for professional consultations that deteriorate into criminal violence, breakfast appointments raided by the FBI and one particular Power Point presentation to a Jersey state racing commission that ended in automatic weapons fire.

Good thing she likes Austin.

She just won’t let Austin out of the business. Plus Johnny “The Turk” Korsay is on a rampage and had his crooked cops arrest Luis, the bartender Austin’s best friend. Why? Because Austin saw The Turk kill Heriberto. And now he’s gunning for the stock broker.

It’s another brush with violent death and a sexy redhead for Austin Carr when Mama Bones and her rival Jersey associate of a fading New York crime family battle for the future of imported sex slaves, boardwalk tourist business and surprising horse racing secrets, past and present.

“Big Shoes is a five-star romp.”
Rick Bylina, best-selling author of One Promise Too Many

You can purchase BIG SHOES at the following Retailers:
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TEN RANDOM THINGS BY JACK GETZE
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(Spare time)

First off, I don’t allow myself a ton of spare time, not since I turned a certain age. Time isn’t catching up, it has intercepted me. The last few years, I like to write as much as I can.

I used to start every day by reading two newspapers with my coffee, a habit one learns as a news reporter. (How else could you know what’s news?) I still look at headlines, online, but I can’t take newspapers anymore. Either I’m an old fogey or the news is no longer written by impartial journalists. Maybe both are half-true. J

I watch some television at night, preferably a baseball game or a good movie, but there are a couple of regular drama shows I like. The Vikings. Ray Donovan. Homeland.

My wife and I enjoy gardening together, although lately I think she gets to pick the plants and I get to clean up. But I must admit she’s made a beautiful sanctuary out of the backyard, where she demanded “everything must bloom.” It’s a place we often survey quietly together in the morning and evening.

I like to cook a little, especially one-pot dinners and Mexican food because I can’t find any good local tacos and burritos.

I used to play a lot of golf. Back in ’84, I was a public-course club champion, a two USGA handicap. Now it takes up way too much of the day. I golfed one or two rounds last week with my number-two son — it’s great dad-son time — but I haven’t played since last year when he was in town.

I worry a lot, and though I’ve improved since I recognized how much time was involved, concern for my family, friends and the future occupy time every day. Sorry to make you part of my therapy, but this is good for me to talk about.

If you like rock and roll, give me a guitar, I can make you dance.

My wife and I enjoy dining out when we can, especially near the ocean. Last month I gobbled up a small dish of spaghetti with aged parmesan cheese and cracked black peppercorns, then a chunk of halibut over lobster risotto. My first newspaper job, I would have had to work three weeks to pay the bill. This tab I gave to my successful wife.

I spoil my pets, offering dinner scraps afterward. My wife doesn’t like it, scolds me. But I can’t help it. Those animals know how to stare at me.

Great post, Jack. Like you, I am an old fogey and proud of it. I thought I would develop more patience, but I have even less. Worries, I’m not going there. News…what’s that? The media chooses what it wants to share and I don’t think the truth matters much to them. I love eating by the water, who wouldn’t? And Mexican food…my favorite. The margaritas are on me! Cheers.


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Former L.A. Times reporter Jack Getze is Fiction Editor for Anthony nominated Spinetingler Magazine, one of the internet’s oldest websites for noir, crime and horror short stories. His award-winning Austin Carr mystery series is published by Down & Out Books. The latest, BIG SHOES, won Deadly Ink’s David Award for Best Mystery of 2015. His short fiction has appeared in A Twist of Noir, Beat to a Pulp, The Big Adios and several anthologies.

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FREE Suspense Thriller – Natalie’s Art by Susan Fleet #SusanFleet

I have read most of Susan Fleet’s fantastic thrillers, but this is one I was Missing (look below to get my little pun, hint, it’s the title of another of her books) You can bet I have grabbed my copy, so be sure and grab yours too.

There’s also a wonderful book trailer and check out her bio. She is a very interesting lady.

NATALIE’S ART 31 reviews 4.6 rating   ASIN: B00OSAXLN

Natalie’s Art, a Frank Renzi crime thriller, is FREE September 22-26, 2016

Natalie's Art (Frank Renzi, #5)

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Art heists, Murder and Revenge! In 2010, a ruthless man forces Natalie to steal priceless paintings from Boston’s Gardner Museum. After the heist he intends to kill her. But NOPD Detective Frank Renzi is hot on her trail. Will Natalie escape?

 

ABOUT SUSAN FLEET

Susan FleetFor many years award-winning author Susan Fleet worked as a trumpeter in the Boston area. While teaching at Brown University and Berklee College of Music she began writing crime fiction. In 2001 she moved to New Orleans. Her first crime novel, Absolution, was named Best Mystery-Suspense-Thriller of 2009. Subsequent novels in her Frank Renzi series, Diva and Natalie’s Revenge, have won accolades from reviewers and readers alike. Jackpot is the fourth book in the series.

Susan blogs about true crime and has published twelve of her posts in an ebook. DARK DEEDS: Serial killers, stalkers and domestic homicides. http://darkdeeds.susanfleet.com/dark_deeds_book.html#.UYvV_MqYFaI

For nine years, Susan lived in New Orleans enjoying the music, food and ambiance of the French Quarter. She survived Katrina. She now divides her time between the Big Easy and Boston. Visit her at http://www.susanfleet.com

While teaching at Berklee, Susan created a course about 20th Century female musicians. Her book, Women Who Dared: Trailblazing 20th Century Musicians, spotlights violinist Maud Powell and trumpeter Edna White. http://susanfleet.com/women_who_dared-vol1.html See her profiles of other talented women at http://archives.susanfleet.com

You can stalk Susan at the links below:

Susan has some great book trailers. You can see them on her YouTube page.

Website / Goodreads / You Tube / Amazon Author Page

For more of Susan Fleet’s work, you can check out my reviews:

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Save

FREEBIE Thriller – Get it now! Absolution by Susan Fleet

Susan Fleet is offering a free copy of Absolution to welcome in the fall.

Absolution will be free  September 8 – 12, 2015.

You can read my 5 star review for Absolution HERE.

This book grabbed me from the first page and never let me go. Feelings of frustration, disgust, and anger left me panting for more.

I kept wanting to yell, ” Don’t open the door!”

ABSOLUTION  Book #1 in the award-winning Frank Renzi series.

A serial killer preys on young women in New Orleans. Premier Book Awards

Best Mystery/Suspense/Thriller of 2009

I love this stand alone series and would highly recommend it to all thriller lovers!

Be a stalker and follow Susan: Website  /  Goodreads  /  You Tube

Add me to Goodreads now.

You can read my 5 star review for Absolution HERE.

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