Tour: The Andersons Series by H.G. Langley

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Homecoming1Homecoming
The Andersons
Book 2
H.G Langley

Genre: Romantic suspense/thriller/crime fiction

Publisher: SP Press

Date of Publication: October 20, 2015

Word Count: approx. 75K

Book Description:

Everybody has a past.

Tom and Maggie Andersons’s is just a little bloodier than most

When a family tragedy forces them back to their hometown of Cedar Falls, the past collides with the present, threatening to shatter their future.

Home isn’t where the heart is–just the skeletons.


Anderson Cover.jpg.opt267x401o0,0s267x401The Andersons
Book 1
H.G Langley

Genre: Romantic suspense/thriller/crime fiction

Publisher: SP Press

Date of Publication: April 2015

Word Count: approx. 75K

Book Description:

Thomas and Margaret Anderson are like most couples in Sugar Maple Grove, West Virginia. They attend neighborhood block parties on Fridays, do home projects on Saturdays, and go to church on Sundays.

They also kill people.

Suburbia has never been more deadly….


Available at Amazon

CONTAINS SCENES OF EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, AND SEX. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

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About the Author:

H.G. Langley is the author of The Andersons, a crime fiction series exploring the relationship of a married couple who also happen to be serial killers. A graduate of Florida State University, Langley holds a B.S. in Criminology and Criminal Justice. When not writing, Langley enjoys traveling as well as finding inspiration through various police procedurals and Other crime shows. Langley resides In Florida.

Website: http://www.hglangley.com

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

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Tour: The Tomorrow Heist by Jack Soren

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Eonly_9780062365200_CoverThe Tomorrow Heist
Monarch
Book Two
Jack Soren

Genre: Fiction/Thrillers/Technological

Publisher: HarperCollins/Witness Impulse
Date of Publication: 11/3/2015

ISBN: 9780062365200

Book Description:

Readers looking for twisting, fast-paced suspense will be swept away by Jack Soren’s newest tale of thrilling international adventure…

Jonathan Hall and Lew Katchbrow intended to leave life as international art thieves behind them-if only the money hadn’t run out. But when a shadowy organization approaches the duo offering compensation, protection, and prestige in exchange for their skills, Jonathan and Lew think it’s the answer to their problems…

But the nightmare has only just begun.

Suddenly Jonathan and Lew are thrust headlong into a race against time and a technology that science says shouldn’t exist. With the very nature of life and death on Earth hanging in the balance, it’s up to Jonathan and Lew to discover the truth behind Ashita—a terrifying futuristic city in the depths of the Pacific Ocean—and stop it. But the clock is ticking. If Jonathan and Lew fail this heist, millions will die—and the human race will never be the same.

Harper Collins     Amazon

Chapter One

London

Thursday

12:15 p.m. Local Time

Jonathan Hall hadn’t been home in almost two years. Not that he hadn’t had a place to live during that time. As a matter of fact, Jonathan had lived in some extravagantly opulent locales—a penthouse in New York, a yacht on the Aegean Sea anchored off Mykonos Island, even an abandoned palace in Thailand. But none of those were home. The last home he’d known was a tiny, run-down house in Tallahassee, Florida. But it hadn’t been the building that had made it home. It had been the company.

Now, as he sat in a cafe in London, watching the crowds pass by outside in the midday September sunshine, oblivious to the magnificence of The Thames and London Bridge, Jonathan thought of his daughter, Natalie. Not that his thoughts were ever far from her. He hadn’t seen her in person in almost a year. And the year before that he’d only managed to see her a few fleeting times. These were important years for her and he was missing them. The same way he’d missed the first five years of her life. He hadn’t even known Natalie existed back then, but it still bothered him.

He wished Natalie’s mother was still alive. That’s what a 13-year-old girl needed, a woman to explain all those things she was feeling and experiencing as she became a teenager. Not a father who, when he was around, put her life in danger. A father who had no idea what he was doing. A father who had been an art thief for the past twenty years.

Jonathan squeezed a napkin to ease his tension as the waiter drifted by. He ordered another chai tea. The waiter nodded and took the old cup away. It was Jonathan’s second.

He checked his watch. Their contact was over half an hour late. But he wasn’t giving up just yet; Fahd was skittish as hell and in all likelihood was pacing back and forth up the street trying to decide what to do. In the end, Jonathan knew he’d show. It wasn’t hubris speaking, it was pragmatism. Fahd needed the money that was weighing down Jonathan’s black leather jacket, making it hang on the back of his chair at an odd angle.

Jonathan had found Fahd the same way he found all their jobs these days: through the Dark Web. Using a special web browser that protected his identity, Jonathan could access web sites and discussion forums where normal search engines couldn’t go, with no fear of being tracked. He still had to vet his contacts carefully before actually meeting them—law enforcement agencies around the world were well aware of the Dark Web, and stings were becoming more and more common—but after all these years, Jonathan had become quite skilled at knowing who was and wasn’t on the level.

As the waiter brought his beverage, Jonathan took the opportunity to scan the room again. He avoided direct eye contact—especially with the hulking man sitting by the window, hunched over a plate of pastries and a giant, ridiculously sweet coffee, his long duster coat hanging over the back of his stool. The man was Lew Katchbrow, Jonathan’s long-time partner and about the only person in the world he trusted. Jonathan nodded thanks as the waiter left again, confident that the scattering of patrons were oblivious to him.

He sipped his tea as his thoughts drifted back to Natalie. She’d just started high school last week and he hated that he couldn’t be there. But it was for her own good. Because of him, her life had been in jeopardy twice in the past two years. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. No matter how difficult it was.

The first year Natalie was away at boarding school in British Columbia, Jonathan had tried to stay away, but he’d given in to his emotions and slowly started visiting her every few months. Then it became every few weeks. She’d been mad at him for sending her away at first, but she soon came around.

Then the unthinkable had happened. They’d found her. He didn’t have any proof, but he was sure it was because of his visits. Canton George, an industrialist with a score to settle, had sent men to take her and to find Jonathan and Lew any way they could. It was only by sheer dumb luck that Lew had been with Jonathan on that visit to her campus when Canton George and his men came. Several tense hours later, George was blind in one eye, his men were dead and Natalie had been forced to once again abandon her life. Sadly, George had managed to get away.

A new identity and a few months later, Natalie was enrolled in another boarding school. This one in Switzerland. And that was the last time Jonathan had seen his daughter in person. Even their encrypted Skype calls had started to make him nervous. As painful as it was, he’d stopped taking her calls, and instead paid the school’s head master to keep Jonathan updated on his daughter’s activities through a series of back channels, again on the Dark Web.

The bell over the café door rang, shaking Jonathan from his memories. It was Fahd, his contact, a guard at a local museum. Jonathan waited for a small crowd of patrons to finish leaving before he motioned to Fahd. The caramel-skinned, slight, black-haired man nodded and moved towards the table, furtively scanning the room as he approached. As he did, Jonathan’s phone, resting on the table, buzzed. He looked down and saw Natalie’s picture displayed on the screen.

He swore under his breath and swiped the Reject button as Fahd sat down. The waiter drifted over and asked Fahd for his order, but Fahd, who kept wiping sweat from his brow with a napkin, tried to just wave him off. Jonathan smiled, apologized for his “friend” and ordered an espresso for him. Though as the waiter left, Jonathan thought more stimulation was the last thing this guy needed.

“You’re late,” Jonathan said flatly.

“I almost didn’t come,” Fahd said in a British accent that said he’d been schooled well despite his position at the museum. Jonathan knew the story behind that, though not from Fahd, himself. Fahd had been expelled from school after only two years for running an illegal poker game out of his dorm. A position as a guard at a local museum was the best he could do with that track record. It was one of the reasons Jonathan had decided to deal with him in the first place. He was motivated by money even more than most people.

The job was a small one, as far as their jobs went—a stolen set of rare books. But lately that seemed to be the rule of the day. Not that there weren’t bigger opportunities out there, but Jonathan had become selective, taking lower profile jobs, which of course meant lower pay. But if they could stay off the radar of their usual vindictive billionaire targets, maybe it would be safe to reconnect with Natalie. Still, their resources were starting to feel the pinch, and Lew was starting to notice the pattern.

Sometimes Jonathan wondered what it would be like to sell the works he and Lew stole instead of settling for the finder’s fee from the original owner or museum. Even though what they did had never been about the money.

Jonathan took the envelope from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table. Fahd, his nervousness gone at the sight of the fat envelope, reached out and tried to take the money, but Jonathan kept his hand on it.

“The name,” Jonathan said when Fahd looked up at him, confused.

“Oh, right,” Fahd said, licking his lips and appearing to weigh responding against letting go of the envelope. “Jacobson. Peter Jacobson.” Jonathan hesitated for a moment but then took his hand away. Fahd yanked the envelope off the table and held it in his lap under the table, peeking inside.

“The address?” Jonathan asked.

Fahd told him the address, practically giggling as he pocketed the envelope. The name and address were new information for Jonathan, but he’d already met briefly with Fahd and knew Peter Jacobson was another guard at the museum. One with even less scruples than Fahd.

“Nice doing bus–“

“Sit down,” Jonathan said, his tone slamming Fahd’s already rising butt back down on the uncomfortable wooden chair. “Why’d Jacobson tell you he has the books? You’re obviously not friends.”

“I honestly don’t know. He doesn’t really have any friends that I’ve seen. He’s, well…” Fahd seemed to be looking for the right words.

“He’s what?”

“Well, he’s weird. Has conversations with himself. Only wears half his uniform sometimes. He’ll sit down across from you on break, stare at you and never say a word.”

This Jonathan didn’t like. It made his ultimate target unpredictable. And that meant dangerous. He also figured something else out from Fahd’s subtext.

“So he didn’t tell you. You just heard him talking to himself,” Jonathan said.

Fahd looked like a kid caught swiping a sweet from the local Tesco.

“Relax,” Jonathan said. “You can keep the money. Assuming this pans out. If it doesn’t, you’ll be the one your co-workers are calling weird.” It was a vague threat, which Jonathan found worked best.

“Can I…” Fahd said, nodding towards the door.

“Yeah, beat it,” Jonathan said. He thought about stopping Fahd and making him pay for the espresso just for kicks, but let him go. He knew from past experiences with guys like Fahd, the less you had to do with them, the better.

Jonathan watched as Fahd stumbled his way back out of the cafe. The second he was out the door, Jonathan grabbed his phone. His anxiety eased when he saw that Natalie had left him a voice message. He was about to dial his voicemail when Lew dropped down into the seat Fahd had just been in.

“Twitchy give us anything good?” Lew asked, still chewing on a pastry.

“How are you not a thousand pounds?” Jonathan asked as he watched Lew inhale the rest of his “snack”. Jonathan had eaten with Lew more than he had anyone else on the planet, even Natalie, and the amount of food Lew consumed was always amusing. Especially since Lew was six feet tall and over 220 pounds, but only about 10% body fat. Jonathan was jealous. He had a thinner body type than Lew, but the past couple of years he’d had to really work to stay in shape. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself have anything resembling a pastry.

“Clea’ libbing,” Lew mumbled through a mouthful of dough. “So what’s up?”

“Talie called,” Jonathan said.

“Yes! I knew it. Told you, didn’t I? What did the little squirt say?”

“I don’t know. She called just as Fahd got here.”

“No, don’t tell me…you rejected her call? For that sleeze? That’s messed up, man,” Lew said, shaking his head.

“We got the name and address,” Jonathan said, ignoring Lew’s jabs. After all these years he’d gotten good at that. “We’ll go tomorrow. Make sure you get some sleep tonight.”

“Yes, Mom.” Lew drained his coffee. “Still can’t believe you didn’t answer the kid’s call.” He stood up, the chair creaking a sigh of relief. “I’ll come by your place in the morning. Call your kid.”

“Want some company?” Jonathan said, standing up and throwing a few pounds onto the table. Lew furrowed his brow and looked at him. Jonathan knew why; they’d made a habit of not being seen in public together. Just in case.

“Uh, sure. Anything specific you want to do?” Lew asked, donning his Raybans.

“Just walk,” Jonathan said.

They stepped out into the afternoon and headed east towards St. Paul’s Cathedral. They didn’t talk for almost an hour. They were as close as brothers and their silences were never awkward. Sometimes it was just good to be around someone who meant that much to you. After getting a couple ice cream cones, they ended up leaning against a railing and watching the afternoon river traffic.

After a while, Lew turned around and leaned back against the railing, watching the crowds. Tourists and businessmen strolled by in the September sunshine. But Jonathan knew Lew wasn’t people watching; he was making sure there were no threats about.

“You gonna tell me what’s on your mind?” Lew said without taking his eyes off the crowds.

“We’re running out of money,” Jonathan said. The smaller jobs had taken their toll. Paying off Fahd had actually made Jonathan worry about making his rent this month.

“I know,” Lew said.

“You know.”

“Sure, but this is what you do.”

“What I do?”

“Every now and then you get all freaked out about drawing too much attention and then you only set up smaller jobs for us. But you get over it and then we’re flush and back to normal. I have to admit, it’s gone on longer than usual this time, but you’ll come around.  You always do,” Lew said.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” Jonathan said, trying to roll with what he’d just heard. He’d had no idea he was being so transparent, or that there had been enough of these times for there to be a pattern.

“I do, don’t I,” Lew said, looking at Jonathan over his Raybans. The look Jonathan could take, it was the shit-eating grin that went with it that got under his skin. “It must be annoying.”

“Hang on,” Jonathan said. “Why are you so calm about this?”

“I’m not calm.”

“You seem calm.”

“I don’t know why I’d seem calm.”

“Maybe because you’re calm.”

“Huh, maybe.”

“Well?”

“After your last spate of cut-rate jobs, I figured it was time to add a little cash to the bugout bag in my closet.”

“A little. How little?”

“About fifty grand,” Lew said.

“Jesus.”

“You can borrow some if you want.”

“I can?”

“Sure. All you have to do is ask.”

Jonathan sighed and braced himself. “May I borrow some money.”

“What’s mine is yours, amigo. But you know there’s a way we can make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“Uh huh. How’s that?” Jonathan asked, but he was pretty sure he knew what was coming. Lew took off his glasses and looked Jonathan dead in the eyes.

“Let’s be The Monarch again.”

Jonathan knew Lew had never minded being The Monarch. Liked it, in fact. Especially the big payouts. They had started all of this because they’d been fed up with the system — Lew with the army and Jonathan with intelligence. Both had felt they were doing more harm than good. But then a chance meeting in Bogota, Colombia had set them on the path to make a difference. Though, there was a big distinction between returning some rare books stolen by a delusional security guard, and finding a lost Rembrandt the world had thought destroyed. As The Monarch they were preserving culture and history, but there was a big price to pay.

“What about Natalie?” Jonathan said. She wasn’t just Jonathan’s daughter, she was Lew’s surrogate niece.

“We can figure something out,” Lew said, sounding like a kid trying to convince his Dad to take him to a ballgame.

“‘Figure something out’,” Jonathan said flatly. “Jesus, you thought harder about which pastries to eat back at the cafe! Natalie isn’t something to figure out. She’s all that matters.”

“And I don’t know that?” Lew said, getting defensive. “I’m just the fucking idiot muscle.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jonathan said. Then after a minute: “But there are times—”

“Fuck you,” Lew said, pushing off from the railing. “If I’m such a mouth breather, get your own fucking money.” He roughly put his glasses on, swung around and marched off, his coat swirling in his hurry.

“Lew, don’t be like that. You know what I meant,” Jonathan said, but Lew kept walking. “Lew! Are you coming tomorrow?”

Lew spun around and walked backwards. “Sure! You might need me to lift something. Ladies and Gentlemen, Jonathan the giant brain. Give him a hand,” Lew said to the people around him, waving his arms like a circus ringmaster. Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Sometimes I can be such a dick.

Jonathan didn’t believe for a minute that all Lew brought to the table was his physicality, but it was a button he could push to make Lew drop The Monarch nonsense. In retrospect, Jonathan knew he was lucky Lew hadn’t knocked him on his ass. He had to apologize, but when Lew got like this you just had to leave him alone for a while. The only person who could cut through his moods was Emily, his on-again, off-again girlfriend.

But as far as Jonathan knew, they’d been off for a long while. Ironically, for the same reason Jonathan was staying away from Natalie. Not that Lew would admit it, of course. Jonathan actually wished they could work things out, but he knew Lew could be a lot to take on a constant basis.

She was probably better off without him.

About the Author:

 

JACK SOREN was born and raised in Toronto, Canada.

Before becoming a thriller novelist, Jack wrote software manuals, drove a cab and spent six months as a really terrible private investigator. His debut novel The Monarch was nominated for the Kobo Emerging Writer national book award. He lives in the Toronto area.

www.jacksoren.com

www.facebook.com/jacksorenwrites

@jacksorenwrites

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22308744-the-tomorrow-heist

 


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Tour: Desecrating Solomon by Lucian Bane

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Dᴇsᴇᴄʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ Sᴏʟᴏᴍᴏɴ: A Fᴏʀʙɪᴅᴅᴇɴ Rᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ Tʜʀɪʟʟᴇʀ

Author: Lucian Bane

Release Date: October 22, 2015

Genre: Forbidden Romantic Thriller

Buy Link: Amazon: http://amzn.to/1McfFHi


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::Synopsis::

***WARNING***

This book contains elements that may be disturbing and offensive. Please read with caution if you are triggered by events depicting violence and various forms of abuse.

On the seventh day of the seventh year… she desecrates.

Evil keeps a formidable schedule in Weston, West Virginia. Every seventh year, spirits from the town’s abandoned insane asylum seek worthy souls to command. But this seventh year, a desecration unlike any before is scheduled to ravage the town. And Solomon Gorge is lured to the harrowing event by the screams of Silence.

:::Excerpt:::

Silence focused her mind, bringing the erratic race of her pulse back into her control. Again. She was finally there. In The Hallower. She didn’t permit herself to look about but her peripheral said she’d been wrong about the most holy chamber. The torture devices and horrific tools she’d imagined hanging from the ceiling and walls did not exist.

Six years. She could hardly believe it had passed. Six years as ‘Silence’ ended today. No, six years of silent Contemplation ended today. But it really didn’t end. There would never be a time when she didn’t contemplate what came next. And what would her new name be? She never permitted herself the blasphemy of trying to guess. Today she’d know.

She carefully slid her gaze to the single entrance leading in. A small door made of thick slats of wood, held together by decorative black metal. The entire room was black—walls, ceilings, floor—all a rough stone painted a shiny looking onyx. And empty. Except for the single slab of granite in the shape of a hobbit table where she sat in her ceremonial graduation gown. It reminded her of a wedding dress.

Would Master be the one to usher in the final phase? Her stomach clenched in excitement and she immediately calmed the fleshly rebellion. She secretly hoped he did. She’d never met the Order’s Queen but once, and even then Silence was not permitted to look upon her as an unlearned runt.

Silence was used to Master’s ways, even though all feared him. The Dark Legend of their Order had trained her personally in the most Holy arts of pain and fear. Any fear borne outside of her Master’s care was destructive—that was one of her first lessons. There were good fears and bad. The bad fears were counterproductive to the Order, the good fears protected it. And Holy Fear with pain were gifts she received directly from her Master’s hands. And only her complete submission provided the divine covering required to fulfill her role as the Queen’s chosen Redemptrix.

Her calm insides jolted at the clang of the outer door leading to The Hallower. She faced straight ahead in deferring obedience, eyes cast to the floor. The Hallower door opened next and her peripheral said the entirely nude form was indeed Master. She let out a silent breath of relief.

He shut the door. One metal bolt clanked… then another… then another. Her heart hammered in her ears despite her steady breaths. It was always this way. No matter how practiced she was with Master’s training, her body knew. Muscle memory always braced for sure impact of some sort.

“Sweet Silence,” he said when he stood before her.

She stared at his hardened phallus, leaning to place the customary kiss on the butterfly tattoo wrapping its length. He stopped her with a pointer finger on her forehead.

“Not this time.”

Again Silence braced, mostly in confusion. She didn’t remember a single time when he didn’t require the Butterfly Kiss. She still remembered the day he had the vision to get the tattoo. The butterfly on the phallus symbolized that the lost would be ushered to heaven’s door by the seed of Master. During her Silent Contemplation she’d marveled over his interpretation, glad that he seemed to be getting some of her gifts.

She hoped he got all of them.

“You look beautiful in your graduation gown, Silence.” He stroked that same finger along her face, beginning with her temple. Her mind flashed with past disciplines he’d put her through. There was no part of her body he’d not trained in some way, for some sacred reason.

“Thank you, Master.”

She listened closely to his unsteady breaths, thick with the scent of fermented juice. “Are you nervous?”

“No, Master.”

The several grunts followed by strained groans told her he was having divine revelations. “Six years of Silence to usher in the final phase.” The withered words came with the glide of his finger over her lips, lingering long enough for her to know what he wanted. But when she parted her lips to suck, he drew it away, bringing another surprise. “Are you ready, little one?”

“Yes, Master.” The bad fears made her breaths shallow as she struggled with old flight or fight instincts.

Why wouldn’t he let her suck it? It was always the not knowing parts that got her, it always was. What he would do each time. He liked surprising her. It had become an unspoken duel between them—her to anticipate, and him to be unpredictable.

A gasp escaped her as she fumbled with the reigns on her control. Master was the one person she would always fear. She was supposed to fear him and only him. Fearing him was allowed, it was good, it was expected, demanded.

Think of the Hallowing Ceremony. Graduating to the next phase. Six years of silence is over.

Sudden terror hit her as she remembered. The dream. The vision for her new name. There had been none.

“So much fear, little one.’His voice croaked with disappointment as he tilted her face up with that same finger, now under her chin. “I am sure you’re eager for your new name.” He began a slow trek to the right of her, his finger gliding off as he went. Silence refused to allow her gaze to stray from straight before her. He’d had the dream? The vision? “I too, am ready to hear it.”

He’d not. Terror raced back in and she swallowed at what this might mean. “There was none.” Her voice rang out with a strength despite the quiver in her gut.

His deep low chuckle behind her, tickled along her spine. “I know,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly at her ear. “Because I was given the dream this time.”

The beat of her heart became a wallop in her chest. Breathe, Silence.

“I’m sure you’re eager to know it?” he said lightly, slowly coming back around on her left now.

“I am excited to learn it.”

“And I’m excited to tell you.” He came to stand exactly before her again. Silence gripped her dress in tight fists as he placed his hands on either side of her head. He pulled her to his phallus, moving his hips side to side lightly. She waited for his direction, knowing not to engage until he communicated firmly. “I had a vision of your new name, little one. A vision of a hand writing on the wall next to my bed.” The tip of his penis stroked errantly over her cheek and lips, meandering and without purpose. “Do you know what it said, sweet angel?”

She shook her head only barely. “No, Master.”

*****ABUSIVE PART BELOW*****

His fingers suddenly bit down in her hair, pulling harder than he’d ever done before. She fought to look him in the eyes the way he always insisted when milking for his essence. But he shoved so far in so quickly and she hadn’t had time to relax her throat, already it burned and hurt.

“Talk to me Silence. One last time before you leave,” he growled, grabbing the hair on top of her head while he pinched her nose shut. “Tell Master how much you will miss him. How you will never forget him. How you will only think of him,” he hissed, pounding his penis harder against her throat.

Silence struggled to give him what he wanted, but her body refused, it always did.

“Tell me!” he ordered between grunts and thick groans.

She tried again. She tried so hard.

His fist shot down and slammed into her forehead. A familiar numb buzzing filled her skull and ears. “Tell me Silence, tell me how much you’ll miss me while you fuck our sacrifice!”

She did it in her mind. She screamed until she had no more breath. She screamed as loud and hard as she could, like he wanted her to, but it came as silence. Something had broken inside her years ago. She couldn’t remember the exact day, she just knew it had. She could no longer scream. It was as though she’d forgotten how or lost the ability. No matter how much he beat her or hurt her body, her mind disconnected from everything and she couldn’t.

She could feel the pain but she was trapped in silence. Just like her name.


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A Bookaholic’s Fix Review

Please take the warning seriously for this one. As you can tell from the excerpt, this kind of story isn’t for everyone. The violence and abuse are inescapable facets of the story.

I have to say, this book was not what I expected. The blurb made it sound like a paranormal with the talk of spirits, but the book definitely falls within the thriller  genre. I also see elements of mystery and even horror (the non-supernatural kind) present as well.

I don’t particularly care for depictions of abuse (in fact, it makes me fighting mad to think people endure horrible circumstances at the hands of others) but I can overlook disturbing scenes when it works within the constructs of the story. In this case, it is essential to understand the depravity the main character, Silence/Chaos, is subjected to. The sexual abuse, beatings, mental abuse and brainwashing she endures is have shaped her character and in order to understand what motivates her to carry out the directive handed down by the man known as Master we have to see the torment she endured. 

The character development of Solomon, is displayed more by his words and actions. Everything he does or says is indicative of his nature. His past is relayed in snippets without a whole lot of details, but the information given is enough to lend insight to the type of person he is and his actions with his charges reinforce the goodness of his character. 

I really liked the complexities of the main characters and the way the secondary characters displayed unique personalities and also enhance the main characters and the story line. 

As for the story itself, I found it compelling and intriguing. I was sucked in and despite stomach turning violence, I couldn’t put it down. I give this book five stars. 

Now I will warn you that it does contain a cliffhanger–which was also unexpected–but I will be anxiously waiting to see how this story ends.

:::TEASERS:::

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Mercy: A Dark Erotica

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Tour: No Trouble at All by Lisa Acerbo

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no trouble coverNo Trouble at All
Lisa Acerbo

Genre: Romance/Thriller
Publisher: Destiny Whispers Publishing
Date of Publication: October 31, 2015

ISBN-10: 1943504016
ISBN-13: 978-1-943504-01-5

Word Count:  74,810

Book Description:

Trouble from the Past can Kill your Future.

It’s a bad day for Sophie Carter when she stumbles across a dead body in the woods. But when the suspected murderer turns out to be a leather-clad vagabond who died in 1889, her carefully controlled quiet life explodes. Not only is Sophie in the wrong place at the wrong time, but as a local history buff who loves old legends, she knows too much about the past to remain uninvolved. Trouble is a killer and no one can escape.

Detective Jackson Lynch asks Sophie to help him decipher the legend of the Old Leather Man and unravel the mystery of the murdered woman. Going against her best judgment, Sophie joins forces with the distractingly sexy detective on the police investigation and in pursuit of a killer. Jackson is hot to solve the case as they follow the clues through Connecticut and New York State, uncovering both legend and fact.

As they move closer to solving the murder, a series of missteps shove Sophie into Jackson’s arms and straight into the media. Trouble is everywhere. Jackson’s career begins to crumble and Sophie becomes a suspect in the heinous crime. The case unravels. The past and present collide. Sophie is swept into more danger than she could ever imagine when the Old Leather Man comes looking for her hide to tan.

 
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/S-OlifkUsZM

 

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Excerpt:

Sophie loved to hike and run, continuously finding new trails to explore in the vicinity. She enjoyed the convenience of living forty-five minutes outside New York City, just over the New York border in Glenville, Connecticut. The town was far enough away that she could still immerse herself in nature, but close enough to the city that she could attend concerts, events, and culture when she needed a change. She explored the abundant state parks and open green spaces that abounded close by, enjoying the diversity found in the change of seasons.

Today was a little different. Sophie had departed for her run from her home in southern Connecticut much later than anticipated. A fender bender at the local Starbucks in Greenwich delayed her further.

In her defense, she had just tapped the back of the other car when she backed out of her parking space. There had been minimal damage. The white haired older couple, Fran and Frank Bunkowsky, while a tad grouchy about what the dent might mean for their insurance, were overall relatively pleasant.

They even invited Sophie for tea the next day.

Then Sophie had driven the thirty odd miles to the Pound Ridge Reservation, looking forward to an energizing run.

But her morning continued to be troubled.

As she locked her car and began to stretch, sweat streamed from her brow in large droplets. The autumn day in the forests of the outer suburbs of New York City had turned muggy. At the entrance of the trail where she planned to begin her run, the day turned angrier and even more unseasonably hot for September. The threat of thunderstorms darkened the skies. To top it off, she had forgotten both bug spray and bottled water, making the jaunt through the woods not nearly as relaxing or therapeutic as expected.

The sky was troubled; her day was troubled.

She could not shake the premonition that things were about to get worse.

This wasn’t the first time she had felt that way. Probably would not be the last. Nature, at least, offered solace and peace.

She began to run the trail.

For the last few years since she had quit her job at the hospital because she just couldn’t handle watching people die anymore, Sophie regularly came here to watch the maple, beech, and birch trees turn shades of leafy avocado green in Springtime and then morph to bright yellows, reds, and oranges in the Fall.

This was one of the prettiest areas to visit year round. She loved the changes that came month by month making each trip unique. While a few tree leaves had swapped green for yellow, it was still too early in September for a dramatic seasonal display.

Gnats, on the other hand, were in full force, swarming around her curly brown ponytail like tiny fighter jets while leaving every other hiker she passed on the trail alone. They must like her shampoo. The ecstatic bugs were drawn to her chestnut curls like it was irresistible gnat candy.

Sophie ran faster. The crazy bugs kept up.

She swatted at them, vowing to change her hair products as soon as she returned home. She tightened her ponytail in the elastic that had come loose, without slowing her steps. A few long curls she missed drooped down her back.

She needed this run. The exercise opened her lungs and stretched lean athletic legs until the energy flowed through her toned body like liquid fire. It was invigorating. In a crazy troubled world, it kept her sane. She picked up the pace and ran and ran, not stopping.

Being in good shape had its advantages. While other hikers huffed and puffed after a while, turning around before coming this far into the forest, Sophie could run for miles without stopping.

As a nurse always battling injury, disease, and death it was important to remember you were healthy and alive.

Finally, Sophie saw the cave.

The reason she had decided to visit Ward Pound Ridge.

She had first heard of a crazy old man called the Old Leather Man at the Greenwich Audubon Society a while back, when she attended a presentation and hike. His presence in these woods in the mid 1800’s was an unsolved mystery and being a naturally curious woman who loved history, she wanted to learn more.

By today’s standards, he would be considered a homeless vagabond, but the Leather Man had a home. His home had once been the numerous wild spaces of Connecticut and New York. Still, he would have accurately depicted the description of a vagabond or wild man. He made his clothes out of thick leather scraps, carefully hand stitched together to form a durable outfit that helped him survive the elements.

The heavy suit was how he got the name.

No one knew his real one, not for sure. He lived for many years in caves. One happened to be at the Greenwich Audubon property and another right here.

After the lecture at the Audubon, Sophie had read all about the Old Leather Man, fascinated that a man could live alone in the woods without the normal creature comforts most needed to survive.

Today she was revisiting another of his caves.

Moving closer, she again wiped the sweat from her brow and then ran her damp hands along the material of her athletic shorts.

The gnats still wanted to be friends.

Slowing to hike the last uphill area, she swatted them away again.

Of course, they were too fascinated with her curly ponytail to actually leave. They liked her too much.

A few more steps climbing up the dirt and twig laden path, she found herself at the entrance of the cave. Her heart pounded with excitement. The cliff directly behind her was a high point on the trail, but she wasn’t going to scale it. As she looked around, she noticed many outcrops and smaller shelter-like formations.

Directly ahead, large chunks of rock, which at one point in time had broken away from the cliff, now hung above her head at jagged angles, creating an inscrutable pyramid-shaped entrance. Sophie found it easy to envision the Old Leather Man coming to one of these caves just before dark, starting a small fire with precisely placed kindling waiting in the fire pit, and then preparing a meal and resting.

As she entered, the interior was tighter than remembered, fostering claustrophobia. She was a tall slender woman and had to duck down to make her way inside where large slabs of schist and gneiss formed ceilings and walls. Crouching slightly, she moved forward only to be engulfed in the cool, murky shade. The interior fell back into a rich mosaic of darkness.

While most of the cave remained dark, the space directly in front of her was lit by the sun. Smaller than she remembered, it was not a gaping cavern but more like a cozy protected nook. It was a safe place to sleep for the night, large enough to stay out of the weather and be warm from the fire.

“What the hell?” she murmured as a horrid stench stung her nose.

It reeked as if something had died. It had.

As her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim interior, Sophie looked around, ready to see a decaying carcass of a raccoon or squirrel. Instead, she saw a bloated body propped sitting in the far corner, half hidden by a jutted rock outcrop.

authorAbout the Author:

Lisa Acerbo is a high school teacher and adjunct instructor at the college level, holding an EdD in Educational Leadership. No Trouble at All is her third novel. Her first novel about zombies, vampires and romance, Apocalipstick, was published in 2013 followed by a young adult science fiction novel title Remote in 2014. In addition, she has contributed to local newspapers, news and travel blogs including The Patch and Hollywood Scriptwriter. She lives in Connecticut with her husband, two daughters, three cats, and horse.

www.DestinyNovels.com

www.DestinyAuthor.us  – Meet the characters, Sophie and Jackson, read teasers from future books, and learn more about author, Lisa Acerbo

Blog: www.apocalipstickthebook.wordpress.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/lisa.acerbo.5

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/6191261.Lisa_Acerbo

Twitter: @Apocalipstick_

Website: https://www.facebook.com/lisa.acerbo.5


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Release Blitz: A Tale of Three Cities by Alexander McCabe

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Title: A Tale of Three Cities
Author: Alexander McCabe
Release: 2nd November
Genre: Romantic Suspense / Thriller

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Penny had never expected Z to walk through the gates of her sprawling Scottish estate and unlock her heart, but that is exactly what he did. Living the dream, they are blissfully happy in their little slice of paradise.

Until the dream is shattered when the nightmare that was her past finds them. Now, the race is on to protect all that they hold dear…each other.

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After graduating with a couple of useless degrees in law, I left my Scottish homeland and wandered nomadically around the globe to experience the rich diversity of culture that the world has to offer.

For the moment, my wife and I are happy to call Toronto home but neither of us is entirely sure for how long and, somewhat irrationally, this more excites than scares us!

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Dual Anthology Blitz: Shivers & Lace & Nightmares and Echoes II

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Shivers & Lace
by Multi Author Anthology
Publication Date: 16 October 2015
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark, Fiction, Holiday, Humor, LGBT,Paranormal, Thriller

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Shivers and Lace is the first collection of sexy and erotic short stories from Gorillas With Scissors Press. Spanning the field of sexy and enticing fiction, this pool of adult entertainment is intended for a discerning crowd of erotica fans. Contributed from a variety of Indie Writers for the sole purpose of giving something back. Fifty percent of the proceeds from this collection will be donated to CAMP HOPE and ST JUDE’S. Not only will you be sampling some hot and steamy erotic tales, but you’ll be helping out two great causes.

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Nightmares and Echoes II: The Return
by Multi Author Anthology
Publication Date: 16 October 2015
Genres: Action / Adventure, Anthology, Contemporary, Dark, Fantasy,Fiction, Holiday, Mystery, Paranormal, Sci-fi, Suspense

Nightmares and Echoes II: The Return by Multi Author Anthology

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In Volume Two of Nightmares and Echoes we give you eighteen new short stories of horror ranging from the gory to the unsettling. Like last year’s offering, this collection spans the gamut of terror contributed from a variety of Indie Writers for the sole purpose of giving something back. Fifty percent of the proceeds from this collection will be donated to CAMP HOPE and ST JUDE’S. Not only will you be sampling some awesome horror, but you’ll be helping out two great causes.

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