NIGHT'S FAVOUR by Richard Parry @TactualRain #AmReading #Action #Fantasy

“We’ve got the prints back.”  Elliot banished the serenity with practiced ease.

Carlisle looked up from her computer — fucking thing — and gave her partner a stare.  “Prints?  From what?  The meticulously clean van?  Or from inside the bar with the ten thousand other prints?  No — you’ve got good news, I can see it from your face.  Something from the shotgun?”

Elliot’s smirk was almost unholy.  “You work too hard.  Maybe you should just take the rest of the day off.  Shoot some pool.  You’re clearly not made out for the long hours of real police work.”  He had a manila file, CONFIDENTIAL in faded red ink blocked out in capitals on the front.  He tapped on it with a finger.  “Leave this one to us.”

“You’re just sore you lost the bet.”

“I didn’t lose the bet.  It’s just been… deferred.”

“Deferred my ass.”  The murderer had been meticulous enough to stack the bodies in a single location, but had left two things out of place.  One, a body impaled on an elephant — sans head — and two, a severed hand.  The body had printed easily, ex-military records describing a man better off dead.  Sealed file, no name, but the memo from Defence had described an SAS officer deployed into Afghanistan, then dishonourably discharged.  The only thing longer than the crimes against noncombatants was the list of heroic missions.  The memo had politely suggested they contact Ebonlake Associates, a private security contractor known to pay good rates for men with moral flexibility.

It was on her to-do list.

No, the bet was all about the hand.  Elliot thought it had simply been misplaced, that they’d find a matching right hand, or maybe an arm.  Carlisle didn’t think so — the killer was too particular.  Forensics had done a pretty good job of assembling near complete cadavers from the remains, only a few pieces still out of place.  Smart money was on the hand belonging to someone who got away.

So far Carlisle was in the lead.  The hand hadn’t matched any of the bodies.  Sure, it was possible that it was all that remained of someone, but the killer hadn’t seemed to take trophies.  Complete corpses remained, albeit disassembled.  It wasn’t conclusive, but it wasn’t looking good for Elliot.

“Prints from the hand on the sidewalk.  Valentine Everard, works in computers.  Haven’t been able to track down his boss yet.  Everard’s on file — we got him for DUI a couple years back.”  Elliot flipped a page in the file.  “Here it is.  Vehicular homicide.”

“Let me guess.  He’s not turned up at the hospital yet?”  They’d thrown up nothing but dead ends at the ER when they called from the scene, the staff harried and unhelpful.  Yes, they were sure that they’d have noticed someone coming in without a hand.  Of course they’d call if something turned up.

“Nada.”  If anything, the smirk grew wider.  “So why’s a guy missing his left hand not turn up to the ER?”

Carlisle turned off her screen, grabbing her jacket from where it hung in a crumpled mess over the back of her chair.  “The only reason I wouldn’t go to the hospital is if I’d just killed twenty guys.”  One arm through her jacket sleeve, she scrabbled around the clutter on her desk for a notebook.  “What I don’t get is why you’re so happy.  This is only going to prove that I’ve won the bet.”

Elliot nodded.  “I just took your view, opened an office pool.  I might lose to you, but I’m going to win against — so far — five other fine detectives.”

“Even if you lose, you win?”

“Yep.”

Valentine’s an ordinary guy with ordinary problems. His boss is an asshole. He’s an alcoholic. And he’s getting that middle age spread just a bit too early. One night — the one night he can’t remember — changes everything. What happened at the popular downtown bar, The Elephant Blues? Why is Biomne, the largest pharmaceutical company in the world, so interested in him — and the virus he carries? How is he getting stronger, faster, and more fit? And what’s the connection between Valentine and the criminally insane Russian, Volk?

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Genre – Action, Thriller, Urban Fantasy

Rating – R16

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Website http://www.rage.net.nz

Kevin Sterling Asks Think You’ve Got the Write Stuff? @KSterlingWriter #Action #Mystery #WriteTip

So, you’re pretty darn talented at writing, huh? In fact, your English teachers and professors told you about it your whole life. You have a superb vocabulary, a wild imagination, a flair for the dramatic, and lots of terrific story ideas. Now it’s just a matter of bringing it all together and writing the great American novel.

I run across a lot of people who say, “I have a great idea for a book, but just haven’t taken the time to sit down and write it yet.” Some of those people may actually get it done (I know a few who have), but most never will. Or if they start, they’ll eventually give up on the project.

Why is that?

For starters, writing a book isn’t as easy as it may seem, especially if it’s a full-length novel. And I don’t think anyone understands that until they give it a try. It isn’t just a matter of pounding out the story on one’s computer, writing page after page until the book is finished. Oh, it’s far from that.

I’ve written non-fiction, and while it’s not a piece of cake by any stretch, it’s at least a methodical process. The writer starts with a known subject, understands where the presentation needs to go from start to finish, and creates a detailed outline to make sure all the requisite information is included and laid out in a logical and comprehensible fashion. Then it’s a matter of time and discipline to write each section until the first draft is done. Then the editing process starts.

Fiction, on the other hand, is all about creating something that doesn’t exist. And it better be something original that no one else has ever quite created before! Nothing is “known”, and the author has a moving target until he or she is finished. That’s because storylines have a way of taking their own paths, and it seems like the author is always scrambling to keep up until finally putting a kibosh on the whole thing.

If writing a novel were as simple as sitting down at a computer and pounding out a story, lots of people would do it. But it’s really like any other profession in that it involves a unique set of talents, skills, knowledge, and brain functionality.

What do I mean by “brain functionality”? Well, fiction-writing is both a creative and technical process that simultaneously requires both hemispheres of the brain. So a person who isn’t principally dominant on either the left or right side is usually best suited for the task. Or, at the very least, they need the ability to firmly tap into both.

On the knowledge front, one must learn about publishing industry rules and guidelines before starting on a novel, otherwise someone will have a big mess to clean up. These rules and guidelines pertain to things like first or third-person narrative, point of view (POV), dialogue, tense, punctuation, grammatical flexibility (or lack thereof), and active versus passive writing. A competent editor will help with all these things, but the author should at least take a few writing courses and/or read comprehensive books on the subject to prevent handing over a manuscript that is so nonconforming that no one in their right mind would touch it.

The other important requirement for writing any full-length book is self-discipline. It’s one thing to work on projects at the office with a boss or client breathing down your neck. But it’s another to be at home where no one is cracking the whip, and there are millions of other things screaming to be done, making it oh so easy to put one’s book on the back burner and get to it “tomorrow”. But take my word for it when I say “tomorrow” never comes. You simply have to do it, just like going to the gym.

This is also where we see a major difference between fiction and non-fiction. With fiction, one is far more likely to experience “writer’s block” and/or having no sense of where the story is going. That makes it even more attractive to ignore the book. It’s also easy with fiction to lose control over one’s storyline and let it turn into a mind-numbing nightmare, hence why I am a full believer in using an outline and ALWAYS keeping it in sync with the book, even if I have to stay up until 2:00am to ensure everything is lined up before I go to bed. Otherwise, the amount of willpower it may take to deal with such a huge, convoluted mess could be downright prohibitive.

Don’t get me wrong. My objective here is not to discourage people from writing novels. I just think it’s important to know what they’re getting into. If they do, perhaps the task won’t seem so daunting.

You know what they say about happiness, right? It’s all about reality versus expectations.

Well, there you go.

Happy writing!

"James Bond Meets Fifty Shades of Grey"

Immerse yourself in the world class novels that combine action, mystery & suspense with tantalizing and tastefully written erotica. You’ll find all your sensibilities roused at once with Kevin Sterling’s ultra-sexy, action-packed Jack Lazar Series.

In this fourth action-packed thriller, Jack travels to Denmark for a business venture, but what seems to be a textbook transaction turns into a nightmare after he gets involved with Katarina, a vivacious Danish girl who apparently lacks a moral compass, not to mention an off button. After naively believing their liaison was just a random encounter, Jack discovers she’s connected to his business deal, and there’s a dangerous political group with skin in the game, too.

Katarina makes a convincing case of being a victim, not part of the conspiracy, but can Jack really trust her?

The firestorm gets out of control as Jack digs deeper, unearths the convoluted plot behind it all, and discovers that innocent people are being heartlessly killed. He’s not only horrified by the reason why it’s happening, but how it’s being done, and there appears to be no way to stop it from occurring again.

Then the scheme’s real objective emerges, launching Jack into action with intelligence operatives to prevent it. But that’s not so easy with assassins on Jack’s tail, forcing him to struggle for survival while trying to prevent Katarina from getting caught in the crossfire.

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Genre – Action, Mystery, Suspense

Rating – R

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#Action #Excerpt from Will Shakespeare & the Ships of Solomon by Christopher Grey @GreyAuthor

The air in the cavern whispered as soft, dripping echoes crystallized around them. Will couldn’t see a thing. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his lighter, hoping the wick wasn’t completely ruined and quietly cursing about having burned out the flash light on the way over. The cavern would have torches, but he’d have to find them without setting off traps. Dorothy’s shimmering face lit up under his orange flame. Although her eyes were darting to all corners of the cavern, she didn’t look scared. It seemed she took this sort of activity in stride.

The lighter cast delicate shadows on the cavern’s walls. The ceiling was about twenty feet up, and stalactites hung with aged precision and in some cases came all the way down to the hidden harbor. Taking a survey of his surroundings, Will tried to recall what Sinclair’s document said. It was less about discovering the correct path as it was about avoiding the wrong one. Stepping foot on the wrong shore of this cave could be very dangerous.

He treaded water for a moment and then noticed a darkened shadow off in the distance. Remembering a haphazard sketching in his mind, he figured that it must be where the staircase was. And where the stairs were, torches were. Light was the most important aspect of this part of the mission; without it, he could end up killing them both.

Gently taking Dorothy’s hand under the water, he began back-kicking toward the crevasse. When they got near, Will saw steps ascending from the water up into a hand-carved hallway no bigger than six feet across and twelve feet high. This was the place.

They landed on the stairs and slowly walked up them without a word. Will ran his finger along the wall until he felt the expected shape of a torch. There were four more down in the hall and five on the opposite wall. They would just need one. He ran the lighter on top of the torch, and it immediately sparked into life. Even after six hundred years the torches worked. It was no wonder—handcrafted mahogany with a silver head and wick. They were built to last indefinitely.

Their scope of vision was much broader now, but not broad enough. The cavern took form around them. It was a semicircle encased in stone. Will knew that in the time of Prince Henry, this was merely a cove. They’d built walls up around and constructed a false beach above.

The trick was that this cavern was well under the water level. Will was astounded when he read the trap Prince Henry had built. The Money Pit was an ingenious way to drain the cave. It was dug farther than 200 feet down. Flood channels were constructed leading to this cavern and then beyond up to Smith’s Cove. When the ninety-foot marker was breached, the flood channel was opened and this cavern was effectively drained into the Money Pit. It wasn’t a booby trap at all but a key into the cavern. The only reason the cavern wasn’t completely drained was because they stopped digging in the Money Pit. Had they gone deep enough, they’d be standing on the floor and not treading water.

The reason no one had found the cavern was because no one bothered to swim down the flood channel and up into the passageway that led to the cavern. Will wondered why the Poor Fellow-Soldiers never interrupted the treasure hunts, but assumed it was because they didn’t want to arouse suspicion about the island by cutting it off.

Now they stood in the hallway where it had all begun. This was the holy of holies, where the treasure was kept. As Will lit the torch, he spotted another ingenious diversion across the cavern. Sitting protected in a niche were eleven sealed chests. Another chest on top of them was wide open, with an explosive pile of gold coins, statues, gemstones, and jewelry piled on all sides of the chests. It was a flood of brilliance, especially reflective under the torchlight.

The sound next to him was that of Dorothy losing her breath.

Then there was another sound far more serious than that. Will at once realized he’d left his gun in the car.

In the fall of 1947, Will Shakespeare saw the world collapse around him. Shakespeare, a secret soldier for the Knights Templar, barely escapes the slaughter of his entire knighthood at the hands of a rogue militant arm of the Vatican in a small Montreal church. With orders to escort Templar business associate Dorothy Wilkinson back to her home in Bermuda, Will must locate and rescue the most important secret treasure in human history before it is devoured by a hurricane in the watery caves beneath her father's property. The spiraling quest sends Will and Dorothy into uncovering dark secrets that make up the origins of the knighthood as they confront the traps and puzzles that masterfully protect the world's most coveted treasure.

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Genre – Action, Adventure

Rating – PG

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