Politics. Love. Murder. BookBub calls Cunning Attractions “A thrilling Christian mystery.” With a description like that, you can bet I grabbed mine on April 12 for the sale price of 99 cents.
Cunning Attractions by Christy Barrett
The Irish End Games
I just grabbed a copy of The Irish End Games by Susan Kiernan-Lewis thanks to BookBub. Any time an author describes their work as “This book is a clean read: no graphic violence or strong language,” you know I’m going to at least give it a look. And a dystopian post-apocalyptic adventure? That’s right up my alley. Reviewers mention a few light references to Christianity but say it doesn’t interrupt the flow of the story.
The Prophet Conspiracy Free Today
The Prophet Conspiracy is free on Kindle today, Tuesday, April 4. Click here to get your copy before the price goes up!
Buried beneath the streets in the holy city of Jerusalem, American tourist Siobhan McLane discovers an ancient inscription hidden for a thousand years. But the past will not give up its secrets easily. Before translation can even begin, terrorists want her dead and she finds herself framed for murder. With a disgraced former government agent as her only ally, Siobhan will have to confront her own past and discover the truth about the history of the Middle East. Peace in the most volatile region on earth hinges on a thousand-year-old lie, but she’ll need all her knowledge and all her courage to survive and warn the world
Thunder by Bonnie Calhoun
BookBub calls Thunder by Bonnie Calhoun, “A Christian novel perfect for fans of The Hunger Games.” That’s enough incentive to add it to my to-read list. The book describes itself as being set in “post-apocalyptic America,” which is another genre I really enjoy. It’s running 4.2 average stars in Amazon customer reviews. If you like it, there are at least five more books in or connected to the series. Check it out, it’s free on April 3.
A Few Clean Suspense Books
Book Review: From Garden to Grave
Readers may remember my friend and fellow author Rickie Blair from her other books that I reviewed: the Ruby Danger Series.
Well, Ms. Blair is back with a new series of mysteries, and it’s a delight for me to recommend them wholeheartedly. My Prime membership
I loved this book. With a quirky protagonist struggling with anxiety and an addiction to self-help books, a zany cast of characters and a mystery to keep you guessing, the Leafy Hollow mysteries will delight cozy mystery readers.
Book Review: The Crown and The Crucible
The Crown and the Crucible by Michael Phillips and Judith Pella is not my usual fare. I’m a reader of thrillers, sci fi, and fantasy, not historical romance. But I picked it up one day on a free promotion, and from the first page I got sucked in.
The book reads at a much slower pace than that to which I am accustomed. The reader is warned in an author’s note that the first part of the book is mostly history, and the main characters’ stories don’t begin until later. But my advice is to read the introductory Russian history stories — they’re fascinating, and made me feel like I was really being educated and entertained at the same time.
The heroine is a Christian, and the story ends with her faith making an inspiring difference in the lives of those around her.
For readers who normally go in for action, there’s an exciting battle scene at the end.
Overall, The Crown and The Crucible is a slow read, but one with characters who will attract and keep your interest. I recommend it.
Sneak Peek at Secrets 4
Derek Murphy, another indie author whose work I follow, is holding a writing contest. The prize is a two-week stay at a writers’ retreat in France, which I would like to attend. I figure it would be highly motivational to socialize with other indie writers in an environment likely to spur creativity. Plus, I could use the setting in a future novel.
Since the method of entering is to post an excerpt from one’s current writing project, it’s a good excuse to give everyone an advance look at the upcoming Secrets book. I want to emphasize that the title and cover art are highly tentative and likely to change before it’s finished.
Obviously, this is a work in progress. But here we go!
Ben Wiles put up his tough guy front and cast a wary eye over the dancefloor. Packed with college kids only a few years younger than him, it was also a farmers’ market for drug dealers, a hunting ground for pimps, and a danger zone for sexual assault. Keeping all those evils at bay? That’s why nightclubs hired bouncers – even when they were only doing it because they needed extra income, and spent their days safe and sedentary behind a desk.
His first name was really Benton. It sounded pretentious, though, so he stuck with Ben. He knew he didn’t look the part for this job. With curly light brown hair, slender build, and glasses, he felt like he’d fit in better with the guys in line in front of the door, who didn’t have the necessary connections to get in.
The club’s patrons danced wildly. Young men and women strutted and tried to attract each other. They wore clothing designed to draw the eye. The winked, they smiled, maybe they danced. Maybe more.
Ben took a paycheck to protect them from the consequences of their own foolishness.
Inside his chest and in his ears, he felt the elevated heartrate that came with stress. Beads of sweat slicked his bangs to his forehead. He hadn’t sparred or thrown a punch in almost a decade. He had no idea whether he still remembered enough to deal with it if trouble actually cropped up.
In his mind, he rehearsed the techniques he might need: How to break a one-handed grab, how to break a two-handed grab, how to counter a right punch, how to counter a left. Desperately hoping not to see any, he scanned the crowd for danger.
Around him, the dancers swirled like dandelion seeds on the breeze. The music sounded more like gale force winds, though. Hard, loud, with bass that rattled his teeth and more beats per minute than he expected to have dollars in his paycheck, the DJ’s current selection had the guys and girls sweating and working it.
Not very long ago, he might have been on the dance floor with them. At least, he might have orbited around the bar trying to make it out to the dance floor. He never had a great deal of luck with girls. His current job — leaning against the wall watching other people dance and try to get lucky — wasn’t all that different from his life back in college.
Ben Wiles did his best to live up to the job title of bouncer at the Neon Nightclub. After a month, he’d never yet had to actually get physical with a person. He hoped he never would, but that was not to be.
The back door to his right slammed hard in its frame. Hard. This wasn’t caused by a drunk stumbling down the alley and bumping into it. The metal door clanged as if someone drove a battering ram into it.
Ben eased out of his leaning position on the wall, standing up straight. When he came aboard, the other bouncers – the real bouncers – hadn’t mistaken him for one of their own. He fooled the manager into hiring him, but not his colleagues. They kept the big jobs for themselves, like manning the velvet rope out front, or patrolling near the restrooms. Him, they left to guard the fire exit.
Wisely. Ben wasn’t sure how he’d handle having to break up a scuffle at the front door.
Now, he eyed the back door warily. Whatever made that noise was big enough and strong enough to rattle a steel door in a brick wall. It wasn’t something he felt any great eagerness to face.
Then he heard a cry. Not even one word, just most of one: “Hel—”
Help. Someone out there was shouting for help. Or at least they had been. Something cut it off.
Those other bouncers stuck him in the back of the club watching the fire exit that no one ever used. They did it because they didn’t think he could handle a fight. They were probably right. Ben didn’t think he could handle a fight either. He got this job by wearing a t-shirt a size too small to make his biceps look bigger, and heavily exaggerating three semesters of college martial arts.
But far as he was from a black belt, Ben still remembered some of the ethic: protect people.
Reluctantly, praying he’d find nothing more than a delivery truck that had missed the loading dock, Ben flipped the hidden switch that would stop the fire alarm from sounding when he cracked the door. Then he eased it open.
It didn’t want to move.
Surprised, Ben stared at the door for a moment, wondering whether he really wanted to look outside.
He pressed down the handle and gave a firmer shove. This time it yielded.
As he opened the door and stepped out, a heavy thump barely made itself heard over the music from inside. Poking his head around the door, Ben saw the cause of the sound.
Bloody, messy, dead, a man lay in the alley. He had, apparently, been leaning up against the door before Ben opened it and knocked him down. Possibly, him collapsing up against the door in the first place had been the cause of the sound that drew Ben outside.
A very definitely live man stood next to the dead one. Ben stared at him for half a second, taking in close cropped hair and an unshaven jawline in the glare of the club’s exterior lighting. Then the man lunged at him.
Ben’s right arm delivered a half-remembered inward block, but it wasn’t enough. The stranger hit him hard in the gut. He grabbed Ben’s black t-shirt with SECURITY in big yellow letters, and pulled him out into the alley. All of Ben’s techniques for breaking a one-handed grab started from a standing position. Halfway laying on the ground, being held up by the scruff of his shirt, wasn’t an ideal way to execute them.
He curled his fingers into a claw-shape, and raked them as hard as he could over his attacker’s shin. The man cried out and dropped Ben, who scrambled to his feet.
When he did, he saw a pistol aimed right at his nose.
Where before Ben had picked out many details of the man’s face, now he could see nothing but the weapon. His fears about responding to the cry for help came home with full force.
Ben felt his skin tingle as adrenaline surged into his system. He found that his limbs would not respond to mental commands to move. The barrel of the gun looked wider than the gates of Hell. He realized, at that moment, that he had never before known the meaning of terror. Now, as he saw a gun pointed right between his eyes, he learned what fear really was.
Yet from somewhere deep in the depths of his psyche, a lesson from his college self-defense classes bubbled to the surface. He swore he was hearing the instructor’s voice right in his ear.
“The chances of this working are fifty-fifty at best. Never do this. Never never never try this. Unless your life really is on the line. If you’re about to die, only then should you try this.”
Well, his life really was on the line.
Ben put his hands up in the universal surrender position, but down a tiny little bit closer to his head rather than fully extended into the air. The difference might have been attributed to an understandable fear of moving with a gun pointed at his head.
“I surrender,” he said. “Please don’t kill me.”
“Sorry,” the man with the gun said. “Nothing personal. It’s just that you can identify–”
Before he finished speaking, Ben slapped both his hands inward and across in front of his face, as fast and as hard as he could.
His left hand hit the barrel of the gun, shoving it away from his head and off to his right.
His right hand slapped the inside wrist of his attacker, intended to sting the nerves in his hand and make it almost impossible for him to keep a firm grip.
Between the two, the gun pointed wide of his right ear when it went off.
The gunshot sledgehammered Ben’s hearing into powder. Nothing went through his ears to his brain except a painful ringing. It scared him so badly that he failed to follow through on the rest of the technique. He should have grabbed the grip of the pistol, stripped it out of his attacker’s weakened hand, and shot the man, according to his old teacher. But even if Ben had the nerve to shoot someone, he had lost all voluntary control of his muscles in the panic from the gunshot. The gun fell to the ground, fortunately not going off again.
Behind him, the door to the club opened again.
“What’s going on out here?”
The baritone voice of one of the other bouncers was a lifeline thrown to Ben, who felt like he was drowning in fright. It was a whiff of bright clean hope to nostrils awash in the stink of dread.
The man with the gun moved only his eyes. He glanced at the newcomer, then back at Ben, then at the newcomer. Confronted by yet another witness, he turned and sprinted down the alley. The attacker disappeared into the night.
Ben stood up from the ground to greet his coworker. The older man came down the steps to offer him a steadying hand. His deep, dark skin nearly blended into the night. His clean-shaven head reflected the little bit of light that came from the building’s signage.
John Lincoln’s formal title was director of security, but no one ever thought of him like that. He was just the boss of the bouncers. Even he spoke of himself that way. Normally Ben found him somewhat intimidating. The man had played pro football once, been on the wrong side of the law more than once, and on several occasions had to fight for his life. Or so the rumor mill said, anyway. John didn’t speak about his own past much, and didn’t encourage it in others.
“What happened out here, Ben?”
“I don’t know. I heard something hit the door, and a cry for help. I come out here, and there’s a…”
He paused for a glance down at the corpse. “Oh man, he’s really dead. I just… I mean…”
Ben stopped trying to speak, shook his head to clear it, nodded down at the body, then went on. “So I saw him, and someone next to him who really looked like he must have just killed the first guy. The second guy came at me, I fought, it’s all pretty blurry. He almost shot me.”
“You did the right thing, kid. When someone calls for help, you come if you can. That’s what the club hires us for.”
“I just wish I knew what just happened.”
“Not our job. I’ll call the cops, kid. You go inside and take my place on the front door for now. But don’t leave. There’s a dead body here, they’re going to want to talk to you for sure.”
***
Dealing with the cops took him until four in the morning. All the while, Ben’s mood sunk like a boat taking on water. He had a day job too, and staying at the club until dawn basically meant he would get no sleep. At a bare minimum he needed an hour to get home and an hour to get to work, so if everything went perfectly two whole hours might be available to him. Somewhere in there he’d have to get a shower and put on his suit and tie for his day job. So if he was very lucky and fell asleep instantly, he could sleep for an hour and a half. If he fell asleep instantly, that is, which seemed unlikely on a night he’d already seen someone murdered and been attacked himself.
Walking down the sidewalk toward the parking garage, Ben turned the incident over and over in his head. So preoccupied was he that he never noticed a shadowy figure fall in behind him as he left the club.
John’s praise meant a lot to him. The grizzled old veteran – Ben didn’t know his exact age, but for a bouncer mid-thirties qualified as grizzled and old – had been with the club for nearly ten years now. When Ben started work at the Neon Nightclub, John Lincoln took one look at him and muttered something about kids these days. Then he assigned him to the back door, and rarely spoke to him again except to let him know about changes to the shifts.
Still, even though John said he did the right thing, Ben found himself wishing he had never opened the back door to look out. He hadn’t prevented the murder, after all. The man had been dead before he got there. Thus, the only result of his decision was that he’d had to stay hours past his usual departure time, and would get no sleep tonight.
He knew he shouldn’t wish for that. Hiding inside like a coward when someone outside was shouting for help wouldn’t have been the right decision. But he couldn’t help it.
As might be suspected for a young man with a bachelor’s degree, bouncing wasn’t his long-term career path. Benton Wiles wanted to work in politics. Right now he had the absolute lowest job on that ladder – legislative correspondent for a member of the House of Representatives. Technically interns were lower, but not by much and they didn’t really count because it was usually part of their college coursework, not a job.
But LC’s, as they were known in the business, pulled in so little money it was impossible to live in Washington D.C. on that income alone. Ben still shared the same house he’d lived in while a senior at college, and he still had five roommates. This long after he’d graduated, he was beginning to feel like a loser for still living in a college house. But he had the rent there worked out in a way that was manageable, so he didn’t want to make a change until he won that all-important promotion to legislative assistant instead of legislative correspondent.
Only his prospects made up for his lowly salary and menial duties. Ben’s Member of Congress – his boss – was Leo Kingman. Leo led all the polls in the upcoming New Hampshire primary. If things kept going his way, Leo would get a major promotion this fall – the biggest promotion there was to get in American politics. And if Leo got promoted – well, the people who worked for him would be at the front of the line for jobs in the White House rather than the Longworth House Office Building.
Ben also had that rarest of luxuries in DC: his own car. His parents bought it for him when he went off to college. His current house had a garage, and he had it arranged with his roommates to where he got to use it – which also explained why he could only afford the smallest room in the house for himself. Altogether, Ben had an arrangement that worked now, even if he did have to work two jobs to fund it.
He reached the garage where he kept his car while at work. Conveniently located six blocks from the Neon Nightclub and seven blocks from Longworth, it offered the perfect launching point for both his jobs.
As he walked in the main entrance, he saw sparks fly off the metal pole just to his left that divided entrance from exit. Almost at the same time, he heard another explosion so loud it felt like a nail in his ear. From his earlier experience outside the Neon Nightclub, he recognized a gunshot.
Fortunately, only the sound hurt him. Hitting a moving target with a handgun is way harder than Hollywood makes it look, and the attacker missed.
Ben’s head whipped backward, and he caught a glimpse of the same unshaven thug he’d met in the alley behind the Neon. Without wasting another second, he faced forward again and darted around one wall of the garage. He sprinted as fast as he could.
Behind him, another shot echoed off the concrete walls of the garage. His legs felt on fire already, but somehow Ben found another gear to run faster. Finally, he reached his eleven-year-old blue Hyundai. He had the keychain out and was hitting the button to unlock the door long before he got to it. Once there, he scrambled inside, started the engine, and backed out in a hurry. He raced for the exit as fast as he could without hitting any of the other cars.
Another gunshot, and immediately after it came the shriek of metal on metal. Ben realized that his car now had an actual, real-world bullet hole in it. Shouting the worst profanities he knew how to use, he tried to push his foot even deeper into the floor of the car, but he already had it all the way down.
Speeding out of the garage and into the night, he took his first deep breath. The man had been on foot. Getting into a car to follow him would take time – hopefully enough time for Ben to get away.
He still had no idea what happened in the alley outside the Neon, but he wished more than ever that his conscience would have let him ignore it.
Clean thriller, free: The Prophet Conspiracy
Today, July 19th, grab a copy of my clean thriller The Prophet Conspiracy free on Kindle.
About the Book
Buried beneath the streets in the holy city of Jerusalem, American tourist Siobhan McLane discovers an ancient inscription hidden for a thousand years. But the past will not give up its secrets easily. Before translation can even begin, terrorists want her dead and she finds herself framed for murder. With a disgraced former government agent as her only ally, Siobhan will have to confront her own past and discover the truth about the history of the Middle East. Peace in the most volatile region on earth hinges on a thousand-year-old lie, but she’ll need all her knowledge and all her courage to survive and warn the world.
A Tour of the Holy Land
The Prophet Conspiracy includes vivid descriptions of some of the most fascinating sites in Israel. From the Negev desert to Hezekiah’s tunnel under the City of David, the story races through locations that practically drip with history. Human cultures have fought over this land for thousands of years. The Prophet Conspiracy imagines a new and frightening next stage of the conflict. Israel’s fight to stop terrorism takes a dangerous new turn.
History Comes Alive
The plot relies on the historic conflict between the Jewish people and the followers of Islam. Centered on the ancient disagreements between the two religions, The Prophet Conspiracy envisions new developments that bring the long-simmering antagonism to the brink of war.
Clean Thriller
The Prophet Conspiracy delivers suspense and thrills without profanity or sex. You can enjoy a fast-paced story of danger and adventure without averting your eyes.
Enjoy a tour of Israel at breakneck speed. Enjoy fascinating facts about middle-eastern history. Download The Prophet Conspiracy today! Tomorrow, the price snaps back to normal.
Clean thriller Death of Secrets free
Download my clean thriller Death of Secrets free on Amazon’s Kindle today. For one day only, grab the novel that addresses the end of privacy as we know it.
A bit about the book
Kathy Kelver nearly trips over a murder victim on her way back to her dorm room late one night. In his last words, the dying man gives her stolen data about a secret project that could blow the lid off a shocking conspiracy. From the halls of Congress to the National Security Agency and beyond, Kathy must run for her life from shadowy forces who want her dead, while trying to build a relationship and hang on to her faith. The secret she’s carrying could end the right to privacy forever, if she doesn’t survive to warn the world.
With a cast of characters ranging from federal law enforcement officials to a congressman to the bouncer at a night club, Death of Secrets leads its characters and readers on a deadly chase through our nation’s capitol with the future of the surveillance state hanging in the balance. Computer hackers, thugs, and slick political operatives vie for control of a new computer system that could change the world.
Are you interested in the intersection of politics and technology? Do you care about the NSA’s surveillance programs, and where they might lead in a world of constantly-advancing technology? Do you love suspense? Death of Secrets keeps you on the edge of your seat with constant twists, turns and thrills. It offers more than 75 5-star reviews on Amazon, and hit number one on their list of bestselling political thrillers. Readers downloaded Death of Secrets almost 200,000 times. This breakthrough novel drew praise from government officials and privacy advocates.
You should hurry up and download Death of Secrets today, because this free promotion expires at midnight.