The Jonas Trust Deception by A.F.N. Clarke @AFNClarke

The Jonas Trust Deception

by AFN Clarke

AFN CLARKE is the author of 8 books, including the best selling memoir CONTACT, that was serialized in a British newspaper and made into an award winning BBCTV film.  His latest novel, The Jonas Trust Deception, is a Thomas Gunn thriller and follows the success of The Orange Moon Affair.  Readers have called it “classy, complex and cunningly compelling” and a “powerful force in the thriller genre”.  In solving the mystery of an ongoing conspiracy involving his old friend Morgan, Thomas Gunn, ex-Special Forces, takes an action so shocking and bold, that even his team fear he’s lost his mind.  The question is, has he?  To get a taste of things to come, here’s an excerpt from the book.  And for more information visit www.afnclarke.com or the Amazon Kindle store.

There is something so totally desolate about sitting in a prison cell staring at the blank grey walls that, unless you’ve experienced it, you’ll never understand. There is a finality and hopelessness that is almost beyond comprehension. A despair that sucks at your soul. My salvation was that I knew that my stay here was going to be short-lived, but what the future held was one big question mark. I had the distinct feeling somebody had put a ring in my nose and was leading on a mystery tour with more questions than answers.

Left alone with just the usual sounds of dissatisfied inmates, clinking keys and slamming doors for company, I thought back to the frantic last few days.

Confusion would be an apt description of my state of mind.

What facts could I scramble together?

Several dead bodies at Morgan’s ranch.

A small but ruthless Mexican Mafia gangbanger, with the unlikely nickname of ‘El Cobra Poco’, who seemed as if he could be a strange ally.

And the mysterious Robert Sutherland.

What other questions remained?

There were many, starting with who would have wanted to kill Morgan? Everything went back to my request for her to investigate the financial dealings of the Griffin Trust and its Chairman Ted Lieberman.

How was the Mexican Mafia involved if what Sutherland said about Morgan working for him was true?

I could just lie here all night long and create imaginary scenarios, but that wouldn’t supply any answers, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on emptying my mind.

Sleep was what I needed.
It must have been two hours after the jail cell lights went out, that the goons came for me. Dragged me off the bed and frog marched me down the corridor to the back of the jail and down narrow stairs to a basement garage without saying a word. There was a nondescript cream coloured painter’s van waiting with the rear doors open, and I was unceremoniously bundled inside.

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Genre – Thriller

Rating – PG-13

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Website http://www.afnclarke.com/

Sunspots by Karen S. Bell @KarenSueBell

* * *

As I lie in bed with these thoughts, I finally notice that Marina has quietly come back into my room and is sitting in the armchair watching me. She offers me some more medicine and I shake my head, “no.” I don’t want to sleep, and I don’t want to be awake. There is no comfort in anything. She says, “Come. We’ll have a nice cup of tea.” And I follow her downstairs and into the kitchen, zombie-like. I watch her with dull eyes that do not see her movements as she opens cupboards and finds a teapot, cups, and tea bags. I listen with deaf ears to her hum a Russian tune. I sit patiently with no patience sipping the tea I cannot taste. In silence, we sit. In silence, we speak without speaking. Marina’s life force wills me to feel her love.

And then she tells me her plan. “Maybe, I’ll stay with you awhile. Nothing back in Brooklyn right now.” I answer, mouthing words that I want to feel and yet cannot feel because I have closed myself off to the emotions of life, “Oh yes, please stay, Marina. I couldn’t bear all this alone.” I’m overwhelmed by her generosity, my loss, and the hidden truths lurking under the surface waiting to be revealed. Then the cordoned off person inside me breaks through all my controls again and unwonted tears erupt in a torrent of suppressed anguish. I am enveloped in her arms and her soothing voice whispers calming words as I try to regain the safety of stoicism.

Marina and I, sisters of a sort, sit together in my huge kitchen, in my huge house, sharing the huge hole in my heart as my tears pour down my face, flowing as if someone has turned on a spigot. Two small souls in a too-big kitchen of a too-big house silently wondering about the business problems of which his lawyer spoke using carefully chosen words somberly executed while his eyes burned with deep meaning. Problems that would have to be sorted out after I finished sitting “Shivah.” How can one cope with all of this? When will I wake up from this nightmare?

Eventually, it is dawn and I must sit on the wooden bench that signifies my mourning as memories cloud the present and I relive a life that is no more.

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Genre – Contemporary romance, Magical Realism

Rating – PG-13

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Along The Watchtower by David Litwack @DavidLitwack

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. In less than a minute, I found myself in physical therapy. Like the rest of the hospital, the room was green-tile sterile, but someone had made an effort to cheer it up. Porcelain clowns lined the windowsill. Stuffed circus animals—lions and elephants and a family of monkeys—surrounded the rack that held the free weights. And a variety of fresh-cut flowers had been set in mugs in the cup holder for each exercise bicycle and treadmill. Later, I’d learn from Ralph that Becky kept them fresh, paying for them out of her own pocket. He said she’d deny it, but he’d seen her sneak in on more than one Monday morning with an armful.

Fresh-cut flowers. Mom used to get them every Monday as well, to brighten up the gingerbread house. But after Dad died, she started leaving them too long, not replacing them until they’d decayed so badly they smelled. After Joey died, she stopped buying them altogether.

The girl I met in the courtyard stood over a rolling aluminum table, organizing things I didn’t much like the look of. She was sufficiently absorbed that she didn’t notice us until Ralph called out.

“Afternoon, Becky. Brought you some fresh meat.”

She turned and grinned. “Always love a new victim.”

“Great. I’ll leave you two alone. Sounds like you need some privacy.”

After he left, she went back to finishing her preparations, making me wait. Finally, she came over and extended a hand.

“We already met, but let’s make it official. You’re Lt. Williams, but I can call you Freddie. I’m your worst nightmare, but you can call me Becky.”

I reached out and shook her hand. She didn’t seem scary.

“Ralph says you’re the best, that if anybody can bring me back, you can.”

“Ralph’s wrong. I’m just the guide. You’re going to do most of the work.”

“But are you the best?”

“Let’s say I haven’t lost one yet.”

“So I’ll be back on the basketball court in no time.”

Her grin vanished. She grabbed a chair, dragged it over and sat next to me.

“We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, Freddie, so we need to be straight with each other, right from the outset. My goal is to get you back to as normal a life as possible. If you work hard, I’ll have you out of that wheelchair and on crutches in a month. A month after that, maybe a cane. Beyond that, we’ll see. I make no promises other than to work as hard as you will.”

She stared at me. I stared back, captivated by my reflection in her gray-green eyes. She blinked first and went back to the rolling table.

. . . . . . .

She sat down again and undid the Velcro from my brace.

I winced. I hadn’t looked at my leg much since my peek the week before. The incision was less angry and the oozing had stopped. But what shocked me were the muscles. Where once I had bulges, now there were hollows. Not the leg of an athlete or soldier. Not the leg of a guy who might someday dunk. The leg of an invalid. Becky’s words rattled around in my brain. Crutches, then a cane. After that, we’ll see.

“It may not be pretty,” she said, as if she’d read my mind, “but it’s yours. Take a good look. Let it motivate you when you start making progress. And trust me, you will make progress.”

She squeezed some ointment from a tube onto her hands and rubbed them together.

“This will feel a little cold.”

She spread the ointment, swirling her fingertips over what had once been my quad. When she started the e-stim treatment, I felt the muscle spasm and contract involuntarily, a strange but not entirely unpleasant feeling. As she slid the wand around, humming along to its buzz, I noticed her touch more than the current.

She spoke out of nowhere. “I read the report. Says you have no family.”

I kept staring at her making figure-eights on my leg.

“Is that right?” she said.

I nodded.

“What happened?”

“I was born an orphan.”

She turned off the e-stim and looked up at me.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Ralph said you don’t talk much.”

“I talk when I want to. I don’t want to talk now.”

“Fine with me.” She resumed the treatment, hummed a few more bars, and then spoke without looking up. “Ralph was right about another thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You are a hard case.”

She was quiet after that, going about her job while I focused on the clowns at the windowsill. Every now and then, I’d sneak a look at her. A beautiful, happy optimist. But she’d never lived my life.

Crutches and a cane. After that, we’ll see. I was different from her—a realist. I knew what “we’ll see” meant. I’d need more than physical therapy to bring me back. I’d need a miracle.

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Genre – Contemporary Fiction, Fantasy

Rating – PG

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Website http://www.davidlitwack.com

#Author Robert Breeze & What People Will Take Away from His #Writing @robertbreeze

How often do you write? Do you have an organized process or tips for writing well?

I write daily, and to me organisation is the key to writing and marketing a book. I have a meticulous daily timetable of when I need to write/blog/work on the marketing side of things.

What do you hope people will take away from your writing?

The intent of the books is merely to make people think and question everything a little more, I think that would have such a positive effect on society.

How do you feel about social media websites such as Facebook and Twitter? Are they a good thing?

I’m not sure their impact on society is positive, but that’s a question for another day. Both sites have been great to use to push the books. The first book was retweeted by Dawkins which was a coo.

If you could do any job in the world what would you do?

A lorry driver appealed when younger. Now I think being a vet or a teacher would be incredibly rewarding.

What makes you angry?

Injustice/cruelty to animals.

Are you a city slicker or a country lover?

A mixture of both just weighted in favour of the good old countryside.

How do you think people perceive writers?

That they should be bearded seems to be a common misconception. There also seems to be this myth that you have to have had considerable angst in your life to access the creative side of your mind, something I don’t subscribe to.

What’s your next project?

I’ll be weighed down with The Chronicles of Hope series for the next 2/3 years. After that I’m planning to write a sitcom.

What would you love to produce in your life?

Comedy would be cathartic after writing The Chronicles Of Hope, where the subject matter is quite heavy at times. 

Frank Noon divides opinion. Whilst some say he’s a philosophical genius, some say he’s a fanciful dreamer who deliberately courts controversy with his anti-establishment views about the failings of modern society. Seemingly nearing the end of his life in politics, he reluctantly fronts an experimental inter-galactic government project late in the 21st century aimed at making life on an overpopulated Earth more sustainable.

As he battles to gain control of a relative asylum, consisting of a cross section of the populous as much at odds with themselves as the situation, he unwittingly embarks on a life-changing journey of self discovery. As they learn more about the project and its intentions how far-reaching might the consequences be for the future of humanity?

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Genre - Political Fiction

Rating – PG

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Showtime at the Apollo by Ted Fox @Kindleexpert #Free #Music #Memoir

Showtime at the Apollo is the definitive history of Harlem’s world-famous showplace. Home to nearly every great black star including: James Brown, Aretha Franklin, Richard Pryor, Gladys Knight, Michael Jackson, Ray Charles, Redd Foxx, Dizzy Gillespie, Count Basie, Sarah Vaughn and “Bojangles” Robinson, – the theater still hosts contemporary luminaries like The Roots, Mary J. Blige, Chris Rock, Wynton Marsalis and Whoopi Goldberg. Numerous performers relate their own poignant, exciting and sometimes hilarious stories. Some 150 photographs – many never before published – are interspersed throughout.

For African-Americans, the Apollo was the greatest black theater, and a special place to come of age. For whites – including Elvis Presley and the Beatles – the Apollo was as close as they could come to the reality of the black experience.

Still thriving, the Apollo has exerted an unprecedented influence upon popular culture. Since 1934, the Apollo has been at the forefront of African-American music, dance and comedy. It’s legendary Amateur Night spawned countless stars. Renowned for having the world’s toughest and most appreciative audience, it is the place where, as Dionne Warwick says in the book,

“Everyone gave their best performance".

"The essential book, mandatory for the most casual student as well as the most ardent fan." – David Hinckley, Daily News

"Ted Fox made the Apollo come alive for me again."– Jerry Wexler, co-founder of Atlantic Records

"Ted Fox mows through the 20th century's mind blowing cavalcade of segregation byproduct, inhumanity producing creative transcendence. The survivors of the era provide Fox with a front-line document." - Raoul Hernandez, Austin Chronicle

"A wonderful book." – Tavis Smiley, National Public Radio

"I could almost feel and taste the Apollo again." – Doc Pomus, classic songwriter

"The definitive history of Harlem’s (and black America’s) essential theater." – New York Magazine

"Showtime at the Apollo is not only a history of that wonderful theatre, but also a fascinating insider’s view of the Harlem music scene." – John Hammond, legendary producer and talent scout

TED FOX is also the author of In The Groove a collection of interviews with men who have shaped the music industry. He produces and manages Grammy-winner Buckwheat Zydeco and lives in upstate New York.

Showtime at the Apollo by Ted Fox

Amazon Kindle US

Rating – PG

Genre – Music History & Criticism

4.8 (7 reviews)

Free until 24 January 2014

#Author Deborah Hawkins on Being a Royal Fan @DeborahHawk3 #Romance #Drama

I  was always a fan of Princess Diana.  I took my first bar exam in Roanoke, Virginia, on the day she married Prince Charles.  I got up while it was still dark to watch the wedding and then went to the Civic Center where I spent the rest of the day taking the bar.

I felt a bond with Diana because we both loved motherhood, and we were both disappointed in our marriages.  After she died, I read a lot about the tragedy in the Place d’Alma tunnel.  I do criminal law appeals, so I read about crimes and crime scenes on a daily basis, and I felt the whole story of Diana’s death hadn’t been told.

Then one day I read that Diana had received a phone call in January 1997 telling her she was going to be assassinated.  She made a video tape naming the person on the call and gave it to a trusted friend to take to America.  Her tape has never been found.  She died eight months later, on August 31, 1997.

After I read this bit of history, the writer in me took over and began to wonder what if Diana had a close personal friend whom the British government could not touch and who made it his personal mission to find her tape and make it public. And what if her great friend was Nicholas Carey, a duke with a title dating back to Henry VIII’s time and one of the world’s most eligible bachelors? And what if he had tragically lost his wife, Deborah, the love of his life, who was also Diana’s great school friend at West Heath? And what if the person who had the tape was Taylor Collins, a beautiful Wall Street attorney, and the one person in the world who didn’t see Nicholas as Prince Charming?   But what if her indifference  toward Nicholas and the Careys changed when she read the diary of Thomas Carey, the knight at Henry’s court, whose great love story, against all the odds, founded the family that has lasted for five hundred years, a family that Nicholas now wants to destroy because he lost his wife?  And what if Nicholas has a mysterious ward whose existence could thwart his plan to make the Carey family extinct?  And what if Nicholas is accused of murder, and Taylor is the only person who can save him?  And what if someone is trying to kill Taylor because she has Diana’s tape?  In short, I wondered, who killed the Princess of Wales.

In January 1997, Princess Diana received a phone call telling her she would be assassinated. She recorded the information on a secret video tape, naming her killer and gave it to a trusted friend in America for safekeeping. It has never been found.

Diana's close friend, Nicholas Carey, the 18th Duke of Burnham and second richest man in England, has vowed to find the tape and expose her killer. After years of searching, he discovers Diana gave the tape to British socialite Mari Cuniff, who died in New York under mysterious circumstances. He believes Wall Street attorney Taylor Collins, the executor of Mari's estate, has possession of it. He lures Taylor to England by promising to sell his ancestral home in Kent, Burnham Abbey, to one of her clients, a boarding school for American girls. Nicholas has dated actresses and models since the death of his wife, ten years earlier, and has no interest in falling in love again. But he is immediately and unexpectedly overwhelmed with feelings for Taylor at their first meeting.

Taylor, unaware that Diana's tape is in her long-time friend and client's estate and nursing her hurt over her broken engagement to a fellow attorney in her firm, brands Nicholas supremely spoiled and selfish. She is in a hurry to finish the sale of the Abbey and return to New York. But while working in the Abbey's library, Taylor uncovers the diary of Thomas Carey, a knight at the court of Henry VIII and the first Duke of Burnham.

As she reads Thomas' agonizing struggle to save the love of his life and the mother of his child from being forced to become Henry's mistress, she begins to see Nicholas in a new light as he battles to save his sixteen-year-old ward Lucy, who is desperately unhappy and addicted to cocaine. But just as Taylor's feelings for Nicholas become clear and at the moment she realizes she is in possession of Diana's voice from the grave, she learns that Nicholas may be Lucy's father and responsible for his wife's death at the Abbey at the time of Lucy's birth. When Nicholas is arrested for Lucy's murder and taken to Wandsworth Prison, Taylor sets out to learn the truth about Nicholas, his late wife, and the death of the Princess of Wales.

Dance for A Dead Princess is a the story of two great loves that created and preserved a family that has lasted for five hundred years.

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Genre – Contemporary Romance,Mystery

Rating – G

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Website http://deborahlhawkins.com/

Order of the Seers by Cerece Rennie Murphy @CereceRMurphy

Chapter 1: The End

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Liam was losing his patience. “Aw, come on! Are you serious? You can’t want to ride this thing again!”

Instead of answering her older brother, Lilli remained in her seat as the Ferris wheel conductor looked on expectantly, hand outstretched and waiting for another two tokens.

The way Lilli’s skinny arms hugged her book bag while she stared blankly at the pressed metal floor of their “Fairy Land Caboose” made it hard for Liam to stay angry. The sight of her looking so dejected softened him enough to give the conductor his fifth set of tokens in less than 45 minutes. Liam settled back into his seat just as the lap bar clamped down uncomfortably against his thighs.

“Lilli, say something. Why’d you drag me out here if you were just gonna sulk? I hate the carnival, you know that.”

“I know something… okay? Just… trust me. We have to stay here.” Her voice was so low he could barely hear her over the wind-up music that was blaring from the overhead speakers.

“Did Mom say something to you?”

Lilli responded to his question with silence and a barely discernable shake of her head back and forth. He tried again.

“Lilli! Did Mom…?”

“Yes,” she snapped.

They both fell silent again as Liam took in the latest weird thing of the day. Lilith Knight, or Lilli as she preferred to be called, had always been strange. Even when she was five, she could beat Liam at chess lazily, without even thinking about it. She would find things and give them to you before you asked for them. Before you, or even she, knew why. Up until recently, he thought she was just a freak. No biggie. All little sisters are like that, he told himself.

It was only in the past few months that his perception of her began to shift, after her prediction that he would catch his new girlfriend, Krista, kissing his teammate Lance in the locker room after their championship game. At the time, he’d brushed off her premonition as meddling. Krista wasn’t even his girlfriend and his team was 1-1 with the whole basketball season ahead of them.

He’d forgotten her warning completely until two months later when he ran back into the locker room after winning the championship to get the jacket he’d left behind and immediately smelled Krista’s perfume. When he found them, two thoughts overshadowed the scene unfolding in front of him. The first was that what they were doing wasn’t really “kissing,” though he could see how a sheltered thirteen-year-old would describe it that way. His second thought was that Lilli was right; she was exactly right. He was so stunned by Lilli’s accuracy that he didn’t even bother to disturb them, leaving his new ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend to their business. From that moment, Liam understood that Lilli wasn’t just a freak, or more accurately, that she wasn’t a freak at all. She was special…gifted.

The sound of Lilli’s sniffling followed by the trembling of her body as she began to cry uncontrollably broke the long silence that had fallen between them. What the…, Liam half-mumbled as his mind swung from irritation to absolute bewilderment. Slowly and deliberately, Liam moved his palms down the front of his face as he fought the urge to shake the truth right out of her and end whatever this was. But he couldn’t. She’s so brittle already, he thought, without any idea as to why. So instead, he reached out to envelop his sister in his arms, trying to soothe her and comfort her from some unknown force.

“Lilli, it’s all right. I’m sorry, okay? Don’t cry. Just… tell me what’s going on. Why are we here?”

He tried to wait patiently, to rein in the confusion and frustration that had been piercing through the calm day he had planned for himself when he woke up that morning, as cool and carefree as any sixteen-year-old boy. It was Lilli who had dragged him out of the house before he could even wolf down his second bowl of Honeycombs. “Mom said you have to take me to the carnival. NOW!” She had demanded.

He had started to head upstairs to launch his appeal when his eye caught his mother’s note on the refrigerator door. “Take Lilli to the fair. NOW.—Love, Mom,” it read. He knew that meant his mother had left the house early; there was no appeal to be made. Begrudgingly, he slipped on his sneakers and grabbed the car keys, all the while wondering if Lilli was still too young to be left at the fair by herself.

His earlier thoughts of abandonment brought him back to his sister’s form beside him. Not knowing what else to do, Liam simply held her tight as her convulsing turned to trembling, and finally, back to stillness. At the top of the Ferris wheel, she finally spoke.

“It’s over now, we can go home,” she whispered. But as impatient for answers and a reprieve from big brother duties as he was, Liam knew that it was not over. The emotionless tone in her voice scared him. It made him want to stay on the Ferris wheel he’d been begging to get off of a few short minutes ago. As the music died down and their feet got closer to the ground, he suddenly felt conflicting urges to stay where he was and to rush home to his mother. As the ride came to a stop, he suddenly realized with profound certainty that this was much more than one of Lilli’s “episodes.” Something was very, very wrong.

When Liam pulled his father’s green 2002 Saab in front of their small brick house, everything seemed as it always did—quiet and predictable in their modest yet comfortable home. They had lived in a much bigger house before his father died, but Liam never minded sharing a bathroom with his mother and sister. All the toys and trinkets that had mattered to him when he was a child were rendered insignificant the moment his mother told him that his father would never come home again. As he got out of the car and began to take the front steps two at a time, he noticed that Lilli had stopped at the tree stump his mother had cut down the week before. Sitting down, her eyes remained on the ground. Just as his mouth formed the shape of a question, she spoke.

“No, you go. I can’t see it again.”

Liam didn’t stop to ask what she meant. Whatever she meant, he was sure it was worse than he thought. He tried to hold back the swell of fear in his chest as he ran to the front door, but his emotions spun out of control the moment he tested the front door knob and found it opened—easily. They never left the front door unlocked.

When he stepped into the house, he actually felt the life, the person he had been, rush past him and out the door as his eyes took in the overturned, splintered remains of their living room. It was a feeling he’d felt only once before, when his father died. But what made it worse, what made it permanent, was lying in the middle of the floor, with its contents thrown everywhere. It was his mother’s purse, which had not been there when he left that morning.

“Mom!” he shouted as he raced up the stairs to her room. “Mom. Please!” he shouted again, but no one answered. In every room he looked, it was the same - scattered clothes, broken mirrors, and silence—a deafening silence that rang louder than the sound of his own shallow breathing.

If he took the stairs at lightning speed to make it to the second floor, an age could have passed during his descent. The entire house consisted of three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a small open dining area that you could see clearly from the front door. As he walked down the steps, he knew there was only one room left to check. His mind was frozen on what to hope for as his hand reached the end of the banister. If she wasn’t in the kitchen, she might have been taken, but at least there was a chance she was still alive. If she was in the kitchen, it was unthinkable.

Lilli’s words came to him just as he rounded the doorway to the kitchen.

“No, you go. I can’t see it again.”

He found his mother sitting with her feet planted on the floor, shoulder width apart, bright eyes open and cast to the ceiling, with a hole blown through the middle of her chest.

Liam braced himself against the door frame as he began to sob, the sounds seemingly emanating from a place far away from where he stood. He could not look away from the horrific image before him, the last image of his mother. He stood there with wide-eyed and tear-stained pain as the last measure of his youth drained from him like blood rushing from an open vein. When it was done, his body slid to the ground.

We are alone, he thought. There’s no one left.

Ever since his father had died, Liam lived in fear that one day he would lose her. Unable to tear his eyes away from her body, he could hear her vehemently denying that there would ever be a time when she wasn’t with them. “Never,” she would say.

Never, he thought, has finally come.

Though Liam had been staring at her body since he entered the kitchen, he had not seen the gun in her hand until he noticed a fly land on it. Years of training to keep the gun out of Lilli’s sight made him jump to his feet until he remembered that Lilli was still outside. He knew the gun well; it was his mother’s. She had taught him how to use it and to keep it out of Lilli’s reach when she was small.

At first his mind could not decipher the meaning of the scene before him. Was he meant to believe that she did this to herself? Why would the people who broke into their house ransack the place and then try to make it look like a suicide? But he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t figure out the logic or the answer to any of the crazy questions running through his mind. Why would she kill herself? He was sure the answers were obvious; he just wasn’t making sense. None of this was making any sense.

His confusion caused him to draw closer to her body. Kneeling down beside his mother, Liam took the lifeless hand that dangled at her side, the one that was not holding the gun. Though his eyes were still filled with tears, they were no longer breaking through the barriers of his lower lids. This momentary fortitude allowed him to have the courage to look directly into her face and see her open smile. The sight of it knocked him down and back into the base cabinets. She was smiling. She was smiling, he thought. She had known what was coming, and she was smiling.

Suddenly, he remembered his mother’s constant warning every time they went to the shooting range. “Don’t pick up a gun unless you mean to use it. There can be no hesitation. Do you understand me?” she would ask him sternly. Liam knew Jill Knight was skilled at using a firearm. If she had a chance to draw her gun, no one could take it from her. The implications made him immediately sick and angry before their full meaning could even register.

As if retching the contents of his stomach into the kitchen sink made room for clarity, he suddenly understood the reason behind her smile. She had killed herself. She had done this to herself, on purpose. He threw up again in a wave of protest at the notion that she would abandon them, even as the resentment of her betrayal took root. When he was done, he didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to face her.

How could she do this? She wouldn’t do this. She promised.

Holding himself up at the sink, his thoughts turned to Lilli. Is this what she saw?, he wondered, fighting a new wave of nausea. No wonder she cried like that. No wonder… Rather than try to sort out the conflict of thoughts and emotions inside him, he decided to check on Lilli and make sure that she remained outside while he tried to figure out what to do next.

As he peered over his shoulder toward the doorway, his eyes caught the folded cuff of his mother’s sweatshirt, which was turquoise save for the blood, and a little corner of white paper that was peeking out. He knew his mother hid things in the cuff of her sleeve all the time; it was one of the many old lady habits Liam enjoyed teasing her about. He stared at the white edge of paper for a long time, warring with his own feelings of anger and grief before simple curiosity forced him to bend down and retrieve it. As his fingers curved around the edge of her sleeve, he could feel something flat and hard inside. When he rolled down her sleeve to get it, the key to his gym locker at school slipped out before he could fully unroll the note. When he did, it unleashed a new avalanche of questions upon heartbreak over questions.

In his mother’s tiny cursive handwriting, the note read, ‘Go now. Protect her.’ Liam felt a new level of understanding peel back in his mind as he read her note again. He began to see the very real possibility that perhaps his mother had not wanted to do this to herself. Perhaps she was forced by the same people who came into their home. The same people who she wanted him to protect Lilli from now. Liam grabbed the key off the floor before rising to meet his mother’s eyes one last time. They looked so different from how they had even two minutes ago and held so much he couldn’t understand, couldn’t handle right now. He closed his eyes and softly kissed her on her forehead before running out of his home for what he knew would be the last time.

Liam closed the front door behind him and turned to find Lilli sitting exactly where he left her twenty minutes before. He had only two objectives at that point - making sure that she was safe, and getting the hell out of there. As Liam scanned the neighborhood for anything suspicious, he took in the studied quiet of his block. There was no one on the street at 11:23 am on a beautiful Sunday morning. Where is everyone, he wondered, suddenly wary of the neighbors with whom he had grown up. How had no one heard the gunshot? Why didn’t anyone call the police?

The tremor in his neighbors’ curtains gave credence to the sensation that they were being watched, but no one would step outside to help them. This realization came over him with a bitterness that cast itself over all the sorrow he held inside. They had all been witnesses, he guessed, but they would no longer be friends.

Watching Liam as he crossed the small front lawn to reach her, Lilli was struck by how much older her brother looked compared to just a few hours ago. Though his straight black hair hung as sloppy and heavy as it always did over his blue-green eyes, there was none of the playful nonchalance that usually characterized her brother’s disposition. His hair was slick, spiked, and jet black with sweat, and it framed the angles of his face in a way that made her easy-going brother look cold and menacing. But it wasn’t a surprise, Lilli could see everything Liam felt on his face—anger, sorrow, betrayal, and a ferocity emerging that she did not understand. Seeing her brother so unlike himself made Lilli’s face crumple in agony as she trembled under the weight of her own choices.

“I’m sorry, Liam,” she begged in between sobs. “I know you’re mad at me for not telling you. Mom told me that if I did, they would kill you. She said I had to be strong enough… strong enough to save you.”

“Shhh, Lilli. It’s all right. We’ll talk about this later. Don’t cry. Shhh.”

Lilli knew Liam meant his response to be soothing, but his words came out cold, devoid of any life or feeling behind them. When she looked up to search his face and understand the hollowness in his voice, she found him scanning the street with the same look of fierceness. Something in the clenched set of his jaw made her finally understand. He was determined, to keep her alive, to protect the only family he had left.

“We need to go,” he said, as he led her to the car.

“Where?”

“I don’t know, Lilli. I don’t know.”

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Genre – Science Fiction

Rating – NC-17

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Connect with Cerece Rennie Murphy on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.crmurphybooks.com

#AmReading #Romance Ghost, Razer 8 by P.T. Macias @pt_macias

Ghost is an old-fashioned Southern boy fighting hard to forget his pain. He’s forced to protect his Mama and sister from their abusive Pa. Ghost is strong, silent, and soft spoken. He works hard against all obstacles and hurt.

Ghost grows up to become a Delta Force. He meets and falls for a hot Latina who sets him on fire! She captures his soul and brightens his world. He would do anything to protect her.

Duty calls and he’s forced to leave her unprotected. The unspeakable happens! Ghost calls on Infinity. Infinity aids to extract his woman from the clutches of a soulless prostitution mob. Time is running out!

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Genre – Romantic Suspense

Rating – PG13

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Connect with  P.T. Macias on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://ptmacias.com/

Donald J. Amodeo Talks About His Debut #Novel Dead & Godless @DonAmodeo #Christian

What inspired you to write Dead & Godless?

Books of Christian theology and larger-than-life adventure novels are among my favorite reads, so why not combine them? I’d read novels with a Christian message, but they seldom tackled more than one or two arguments. Crafting a comprehensive apologetics resource that’s also a suspenseful journey was a challenge that I just had to take a shot at.

What other stories influenced your own?

Readers of Dead & Godless will spot references to everything from Lord of the Rings to Star Wars and The Matrix, but if I were to name one (not so mainstream) influence, it would be C.S. Lewis’ Space Trilogy. Though less popular than Narnia, the Space Trilogy is a wonderful, more grown-up adventure with some real gems of theological insight.

What was the greatest obstacle you faced in writing this book?

My biggest challenge with Dead & Godless was finding the right balance between the existential debate and the action. When writing philosophical arguments, it’s all too easy to let them get drawn out. I like short, fast-paced chapters with a good measure of mystery and suspense, and that wasn’t going to be achievable unless I kept my arguments concise. Doing so while getting the getting the key points across (and keeping the dialogue natural) was no easy task.

What do you feel is your book’s greatest triumph?

That people enjoy reading it! More specifically, I’d say the book’s greatest strength is that it confronts the tough subjects in Christian theology (such as Hell and the Problem of Evil) in an engaging way that allows readers to see traditional teachings in a new light.

Can you tell us about your new book?

Dead & Godless is the tale of Corwin Holiday, an outspoken atheist whose unplanned, yet heroic death sets off a string of surprising events when he’s assigned a chain-smoking, alcoholic angel as his defense attorney in the trial to decide the fate of his soul.

What do you hope people will take away from your writing? How will your words make them feel?

I hope that readers are entertained, as well as strengthened in their faith. And for those who are still searching, I hope Dead & Godless illustrates that being Christian doesn’t mean having to check your brain at the door.

What’s your next project?

Right now I’m juggling several plots in my head. The most likely candidate is a mystery novel centered around an exorcism gone wrong. I can’t say too much, but compared to Dead & Godless, expect it to be lighter on dialogue and heavier on action.

How did you come up with the title?

The best titles don’t just sound catchy, they say something about the plot. “Dead & Godless” came to me early on. It was snappy and direct. Plus, it doesn’t sound like a typical Christian novel, and the fact that it raises some eyebrows tends to help people remember it.

Can you tell us about your main character?

Corwin Holiday is strong in his convictions and he loves to argue. Like many proponents of the “new atheism” movement, he doesn’t see any problem with being godless and yet having a moral compass. As for his journey through the afterlife, he’s quite certain that its all an illusion – a vivid dream brought on by the last desperate spasms of his dying mind.

How did you develop your characters?

Dead & Godless revolves around two characters: the recently deceased Corwin Holiday and his angelic defense attorney Ransom. There’s a good chunk of me in both of my protagonists. Corwin’s zealous atheism and insistence upon the primacy of truth echoes my own journey of faith, particularly those formative years when I questioned why I believed what I did. Ransom draws from my theological studies, but also my shortcomings as a sinner who doesn’t always live what he preaches. He may be an angel, but he still has his vices.

Who designed the cover?

I already had a vision for the cover, and since I have quite a bit of experience with Photoshop, putting together a mockup wasn’t difficult. However, I know my limits. I wanted to hire a professional to give it that extra layer of polish. Surfing forums, I happened upon digital artist Renu Sharma (thedarkrayne.com). Working with her was a joy. She has a great artistic sense and delivered a cover that I’m very happy with.

Was it ever hard to stay motivated while writing Dead & Godless?

I don’t have the luxury of being a full-time author, and I’m not one of those writing savants who can pump out a novel in two weeks (if I did, you wouldn’t want to read it), so committing the hours wasn’t always easy. Like many writers, I’ve got a ton of half-finished books collecting virtual dust on my hard drive. What helped me stay motivated to finish this one was partly a sense of obligation. I was excited about the story, but more than that, I felt Dead & Godless had a message that needed to get out. Atheism is gaining strength, and Christian artists and apologists are needed today more than ever.

Did you learn anything from writing this book?

Definitely! I was already a theology and philosophy nerd before writing Dead & Godless, but in order to do the arguments justice, I devoured a ton of additional books covering both sides of the God debate. Authors with starkly different views, from Christopher Hitchens to Peter Kreeft, helped deepen my understanding of issues such as Original Sin and God’s wrath in the Old Testament.

Will you write other books in this same genre?

It’s almost inevitable that I’ll be writing more Christian fiction, although my next work is unlikely to be a direct follow-up to Dead & Godless. We really need more Christian writers producing not just devotional or theological works, but entertainment, and telling stories is what I love to do.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

Dead & Godless isn’t short on messages! If there is one central theme that runs throughout, it’s that “the Father prefers heroes to pragmatists.” Key to grasping Christian theology is understanding that pragmatic goodness isn’t enough. We’re not called to be nice. We’re called to heroic love.

How much of the book is realistic?

There’s a saying about fiction: “It’s true, but it’s not real.” I don’t believe for a second that the afterlife plays out like a crazy courtroom drama, with angelic defense attorneys and demon prosecutors. However, the topics explored in Dead & Godless are very much rooted in questions that we all face in life.

If you could leave your readers with one bit of wisdom, what would it to be?

Don’t limit your scope of understanding. The attitude that empirically verifiable knowledge is the only worthwhile knowledge is all too common today. This doesn’t just rule out God, but also the possibility for us to know anything about goodness, beauty or love. Not all knowledge can be neatly broken down into units of measurement.

Does Dead & Godless draw from any real life experiences?

I was raised in a Christian home, but spent the majority of my life surrounded by atheists and agnostics, several of whom I still count among my closest friends. Those many years of heated existential debates definitely played a big role in shaping the story of Dead & Godless.

Anne-Rae Vasquez's (Doubt, #AmongUs) Favourite Things in the World @write2film #amreading

How did you come up with the title?

Aaron Swartz who passed away in early 2013 and Harry Fear, two young truth seekers were the inspiration for my book’s main character Harry Doubt.  The title Doubt not only is a play on the main character’s last name but also reflects how the characters question the reality of the world they live.

How has your upbringing influenced your writing?

As you can see I inject a lot of culture in my stories no matter what the genre. I come from a mixed background and witnessed many clashes between both sides of the family especially from the different cultural traditions and way of life. I like to throw my characters into situations where they have to overcome cultural differences to achieve their goals.

Can you tell us about your main characters?

Harry is a former child prodigy and tech genius. He created the popular online game the Truth Seekers.  His best friend, Cristal is also a talented and intelligent programmer. Her father went missing when she was a child. She senses that there is something different about her but she cannot bring herself to admit it.

What’s your favorite meal?

Mediterranean food is my favourite kind of meals because I love the rich ethnic flavours and spices.

What color represents your personality the most?

Purple or magenta – my developmental editor says that colours have meanings that describe a person’s personality. She just read to me what Purple and Magenta mean and I was a bit surprised at how accurate it was.

If you could do any job in the world what would you do?

I would be a film maker and author.

What are you most passionate about? What gets you fired up?

I’m passionate about being creative.

Are you a city slicker or a country lover?

City slicker. Born and raised.

What’s your next project?

Book 2 of the Among Us Trilogy… and my developmental editor is bugging me to get started.

What would you love to produce in your life?

A TV series like Fringe or more feature films.

How important are friends in your life?

Extremely important but I can count on one hand who my true friends are.

Do you find the time to read?

Always… and I try to squeeze reading in between even the writing.  It is a my way to escape for a few minutes into another world and sometimes I find that a good book can jump start my creative juices.

What is your favorite quote, by whom, and why?

Quote by me:  Writing is emotional. It is baring your soul to the world and waiting for someone to acknowledge and love it, or shun and hate it, or worse be indifferent about it. --- Anne-Rae Vasquez

What’s your favorite place in the entire world?

Vancouver, BC, Canada is the best place in the world. If you have never visited, you should. Enough said.

Do you love shows like J.J. Abrams' Fringe and read books like Cassandra Clare's City of Bones?

"Doubt" mashes fringe science, corporate espionage and paranormal encounters to catapult you into an out-of-this-world experience.

At 21 years old, Harry and Cristal are fresh out of university with their PhD's. Labeled all their lives as being 'weird' and 'geeky', they find true friendships with other outcasts by playing online virtual reality games.

Harry Doubt, a genius programmer and creator of the popular online game 'Truth Seekers', has a personal mission of his own; to find his mother who went mysteriously missing while volunteering on a peacekeeping mission in Palestine. His gaming friends and followers inadvertently join in helping him find her; believing that they are on missions to find out what has happened to their own missing loved ones. During Harry's missions, Cristal and the team of 'Truth Seekers' stumble upon things that make them doubt the reality of their own lives. As they get closer to the truth, they realize that there are spiritual forces among them both good and evil, but in learning this, they activate a chain of events that start the beginning of the 'end of the world' as they know it.

Doubt is Book 1 of the Among Us Trilogy. Among Us is a book series which delves into the world of the supernatural and how it intersects with the everyday lives of seemingly ordinary young people as catastrophic events on earth lead to the end of times. Among Us weaves the theme of a young man and woman, who while not fully understanding their 'abilities', are drawn together in their desire to find out the truth about the world they live in which is similar to themes used in J.J. Abrams' TV shows Fringe and Lost.

What readers have to say...

As a big fan of the show Fringe, this book appealed to me tremendously. The writing was well done, and the way the "supernatural" forces were introduced was great.

A good, clean read for any age.

It was an excellent story that I'm sure both adult and teen urban fantasy fans will enjoy. You don't have to be a gamer or know one to identify with the characters. They're very well developed and definitely feel like people. I would definitely recommend it to a friend and I'm really looking forward to the second book.

...the novel is written in such a languid style, it moves on effortlessly and absorbs the reader into the story completely. Although the story itself revolves around the online gaming industry, one does not have to have an in depth knowledge as it is ably explained and discussed within the plot line. OMGosh! I just finished reading "Doubt" INCREDIBLE! I couldn't put it down.

˃˃˃ >>> Depth and Substance mashed up with Fringe Science. Will entertain young and old alike.

This book is intended for mature young adults and new adults. Ages 16 to 45 +

˃˃˃ >>Inspired by 

real Truth Seekers Aaron Swartz and Harry Fear

The main character Harry Doubt was inspired by Aaron Swartz, internet prodigy and activist, co-founder of the Creative Commons and Reddit, and Harry Fear, journalist, documentary filmmaker and activist whose coverage of the conflict in the Middle East was seen on UStream by millions of viewers.

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Genre - Young Adult, Paranormal, Science Fiction, Thriller

Rating – G

More details about the author

Connect with Anne-Rae Vasquez on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://amongus.ca

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