Book Review: “The Contract” by Gwen Plano & John W. Howell. @HowellWave @gmplano #RRBC #IARTG

Hello and welcome to my REVIEW of “The Contract” By Authors Gwendolyn M Plano and John W. Howell.

Meet the authorsGwen M. Plano, aka Gwendolyn M. Plano, grew up in Southern California and spent most of her professional life in higher education. She taught and served as an administrator in colleges in Japan, New York, Connecticut, and California. Gwen’s academic background is in theology and counseling. Recently retired, she now lives in the Midwest with her husband and enjoys writing and travel.

Gwen’s first book is an acclaimed memoir, Letting Go into Perfect Love. Her second book, The Contract between heaven and earth, is a thriller fiction novel, co-authored by John W. Howell. It is available now for pre-order. Author Jan Sikes read the manuscript and wrote that “The Contract is the perfect blending between the physical and unseen world with unbreakable bonds between human and spirit.”

And John W. Howell

John began his writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive business career. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. His first book, My GRL, introduces the exciting adventures of the book’s central character, John J. Cannon. The second Cannon novel, His Revenge, continues the adventure, while the final book in the trilogy, Our Justice, launched in September 2016. John’s fourth book Circumstances of Childhood, launched in October of 2017 tells a thriller story of riches to rags, football, Wall Street, brotherly love, redemption, and inspiration with a touch of paranormal to keep you riveted. All books are available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions.

John lives in Port Aransas, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.

Blurb

The earth is threatened with a catastrophic political event which could result in international warfare and destroy all life on the planet. In heaven, a divine council decides that extraordinary measures are essential. They call for an intervention that involves two souls returning to earth. The chosen two sign a contract that they will work to avert the disaster.

     Brad Channing, a Navy SEAL, and Sarah O’Brien, a teacher, become heaven’s representatives on earth. The story follows them as they individually and then together face overwhelming obstacles and eventually end up on a strategic Air Force base in California. It is there that they discover a conspiracy to assassinate the President of the United States. The terrorists have a plan for global dominance and they are determined to complete their mission. Although military leadership appears to have the President’s best interests at heart, it is not clear who can be trusted and who should be feared. The action is rough and tumble as Brad and Sarah try to figure out the culprits for the plot that will turn into a worldwide conflagration unless stopped.

My Review: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟Fast paced and action packed … this book will satisfy even the most devout thriller readers.

I was both excited and curious to read a book co-authored by two authors who have earned my admiration for each of their books. Authors John W. Howell and Gwen Plano both have resoundingly earned five-star reviews from me for their individual works.

Their total diversity of writing styles and genres would have presented them with a challenge when undertaking to co-author this work.

I’m delighted with the outcome. They’ve met and exceeded my expectations.

This book goes beyond man’s earthly desires to dominate and control his environment. It takes you to the dark places fueled by man’s thirst for absolute power.

It shows you the joy of the heavenly plane, and the release from pain that it offers.

Brad Channing, a Navy SEAL, and Sarah O’Brien a nurse are chosen by the divine council of heavenly elders to become their representations on earth.

The reader is taken on a thrill ride as the story develops, each of the characters are beautifully crafted and intensely visual, with wonderful dialogue moving the book along at a great pace. The character development is outstanding.

The relationship between Brad and Sarah develops over a relatively brief span of time, as they are thrown together by circumstance, and make the decision to stay together by choice. Their tender and developing love for one another is deftly handled, adding the depth of warmth that the story demands.

This work has been meticulously researched, and all references within it add to the utterly convincing terrorist threat, and the dark forces at work in the corridors of power, bringing into question the motives of players that may have been seen initially to have no hidden agenda whatsoever.

Fast paced and action packed … this book will satisfy even the most devout thriller readers.

The conclusion was intense and utterly believable. These authors have amalgamated their individual skills into a first-rate work of fiction.

This work stands tall in celebration of good people willing to lay down their lives to protect and defend their country and the principles on which it was founded.

I found this to be a riveting reading experience, and one I can wholeheartedly recommend.

 

Book Review “Swiftly Sharpens the Fang” by Stuart Kenyon @StuartKenyon81 #premium_indie #IARTG #Dystopian

BOOK REVIEW: Hello and welcome to my review of “Swiftly Sharpens the Fang” by Stuart Kenyon.

 

BLURB:

Some monsters are born. Others are created.

And sometimes hatred is more tempting than forgiveness.

Set in a dystopian near-future vision of Great Britain, this gripping psychological thriller will chill you to the bone.

Terrorists killed Joe’s father. The young man’s life has become a chaos of binges, fights and hallucinations, while his dreams are haunted by repressed childhood memories.

When the black sheep of the family, Uncle Steve, takes Joe under his wing, the young man enters an ugly world of vice and fascism. Although organised crime brings glory and riches, it leaves stains on his soul.

Battling against his own conscience, Joe makes as many foes as friends. Soon, there’s no escape from Steve’s gang and their racist violence.

Unlike his uncle, Joe wasn’t born evil. But revenge against his father’s murderers is there for the taking, and his fangs grow sharper every day.

MY REVIEW: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 A powerful, gut-wrenching & terrifyingly possible read.

Every once in a while, a book will take you by the throat and shake you. It will make you shudder in momentary recognition, and then render you utterly speechless and gasping for air.  Swiftly Sharpens the Fang is such a book.

This books impact on my emotions found me needing to step back momentarily from reviewing it. I needed to regroup and assess my reaction before I dare commit it to paper.

Author Stuart Kenyon has a marvelous capacity for empathy. His understanding of the demons that drive us, the forces that mold us, and the moments that define us is exemplary.

Don’t go into this book with an expectation of a story set in some far off Dystopian Future. This book is a brutal, powerful, gut-wrenching and terrifyingly possible portrayal of our desensitized world of today.

The characterizations are so well developed, that we the reader are given more than a brief insight into the motivations of each persona. The author makes them familiar to us, he invites us to understand what drives them … even as we find those motivations repulsive. The author causes you to reflect on your own belief systems in this desensitized world we live in. He will by turn shock you, repulse you, and cause you to nod through tears of understanding.

This book is a tragically brilliant story of the harsh reality and cold brutality of our world today.

I have reviewed other works by Stuart Kenyon, and I said of the last one I read (Subnormal) “I’ve long held Aldous Huxleys’ ‘Brave New World’, and George Orwell’s classic Nineteen eighty-four ‘1984’, as the benchmark for Dystopian novels, and this book will now be added to that very short list.” To that list I’ve now added Swiftly Sharpens The Fang.

It will remain in my memory for a long time to come.

Stuart Kenyon on TWITTER

Swiftly Sharpens the Fang on Amazon.com

Author Page for Stuart Kenyon

 

 

 

 

Book Review Jan 2018 “Red Ground: The Forgotten Conflict” by Ken Fry @KenFry10 @EevaLancaster #IARTG #Thriller

ABOUT THE AUTHOR.

Bestselling, and multi-award-winning British author, Ken Fry, holds a university Master’s Degree in Literature and has extensively traveled around the world. The places and events are reflected in his stories and most of his tales are based on his own experiences.

He was a former publisher before deciding to retire and devote his full time to writing. He lives in the UK and shares his home with ‘Dickens’ his Shetland Sheepdog.

Fry has published 9 mystery suspense thrillers to date: The Chronicles of Aveline, Disjointed Tales: A Collection of Eccentric Short Stories, The Patmos Enigma, Red Ground, The Lazarus Succession, Suicide Seeds, The Brodsky Affair, and 2 short stories, Check Mate, and Is That You, Jim? (Free)

The Patmos Enigma and The Lazarus Succession are #1 Bestsellers in Christian Fantasy, Religious Mystery, Religious Fiction and Biblical Fiction on Amazon UK.

Awards:

#1 Best Indie Book 2017 by Read Free.ly (The Lazarus Succession)
Official Selection in Historical Fiction, 2017 New Apple Summer eBook Awards (The Lazarus Succession)
2017 IAN Book of the Year Awards WINNER in Christian/Religious Fiction (The Lazarus Succession)
2017 UK International Novel Writing Competition, Runner-Up (The Brodsky Affair)

Join Ken Fry’s Circle of Readers and get free books and discounts:
http://www.booksbykenfry.com

Red Ground: The Forgotten Conflict: A Blood Diamonds Thriller

BLURB

Vast deposits of diamonds and oil are found in land overlapping both Sierra Leone and Liberia. A scramble ensues to secure the mining and drilling rights of both commodities. Leading the race is the Mining Earth & Ocean Corp.

To amass and control this wealth, the creation of an illegal state called Salonga is proposed. The nominated ruler, backed and supported by the MEO, is a former RUF commander – General Icechi Walker, known as ‘Body Chop’ – a suspected mass murderer involved in countless atrocities.

To secure power, Body Chop, with the help of the MEO, engages the protection of a private mercenary army.

Disgraced, virtually bankrupt, ex-Sgt. Alex Dalloway is hired to join the mercenary brigade tasked to protect the newly elected President of Salonga. He has a personal quest to locate the Army officer who tortured him and killed his men years ago in the jungles of Sierra Leone. He begins to suspect the former RUF commander’s involvement.

With the promise of diamonds upon the completion of their contract, Dalloway and the rest of the mercenaries must decide if they will close their eyes to the atrocities, or fight to stop Body Chop’s rule of terror.

MY REVIEW: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Uncompromisingly brutal and utterly riveting.

This is the first book by author Ken Fry that I have read.

It won’t be the last.

Make no mistake, this work is uncompromisingly brutal, because it needs to be. The devastating pages of the dark history of Sierra Leone don’t allow for compromise.

The characterizations are brilliant and shattering, this author has a deep empathy and an understanding of the dark motives that drive the most inhuman of our species.

This is not pristine matter prettied up for mass consumption, these people are at times horrendously real, and horrifically brutal. Author Fry explores the deepest of emotions and he does it in a way that will alternatively shatter you, and have you moved to tears with its poignancy.

This book is a journey into the darkest of man’s motives and is unforgiving in its depiction of greed, the lust for power, and the driving thirst for vengeance.

It is bloody and brutal and brilliant. Take the journey. You won’t forget it anytime soon.

I’m off to grab another of Ken Fry’s works.

CONTACT THE AUTHOR

Ken Fry on TWITTER

Purchase Red Ground on AMAZON.com

Amazon Author Page for Ken Fry

Join Ken Fry’s Circle of Readers and get free books and discounts:

 

 

 

 

 

“Pulse!” A short story from my upcoming Anthology: “Front-Line Heroes.” #RRBC #IARTG.

My latest work in progress is an anthology of stories dedicated to the bravery of men and woman worldwide. ALL those that silently and without fanfare hold down the Front Lines. ALL the front lines. On the streets of any town, anywhere, you’ll find them, The Policeman, Paramedics, Firefighters, Nurses and Doctors and all their support personnel. Those on the battle-fronts in foreign lands, and those on the battle-fronts of streets peopled with others that have slipped through the cracks and crevices of the world we now live in. The many brave souls that endure the lasting, life changing flashbacks, and battle each and every day with the nightmare that is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

These are their stories.

 

Front-Line Heroes … An Anthology of short stories.

PULSE.

By

Suzanne Burke 2017.

Chad moved gingerly, his bruised ego competing with his other more visible bruises for distinction.

He’d once believed he could hold his liquor better than most guys his age, but his heaving stomach rapidly turned that hopeful little daydream into a blatant lie.

He made his way to the bathroom, pleased with himself for a moment as he looked around his small apartment, and found contentment by the order he found there.

He avoided the mirror this morning. His hands were too shaky to risk a shave.

The shower revived him to a reasonable degree. Orange juice and strong coffee took care of the rest.

He flicked a look at his phone,  checked a couple of missed calls, but nothing urgent needed his attention for now.

Today was already planned, based on an assumption that the few drinks with the guys and girls from his future work place couldn’t possibly result in feeling less than the six-feet-four, well-muscled and lean persona that belonged utterly to Chad Williams. Ego is such an inconvenient thing. The thought made him smile for a moment.

He shook his head to clear it a little: he’d need to get moving if he wanted to see and map out the sections of the city that would most likely need his attention two nights from now.

He glanced across at the uniform and jacket that hung on the hook outside his wardrobe. The jacket, large and in screaming yellow with Paramedic emblazoned across it to identify him to anyone that needed to know why he was wherever they ended up.

He’d not so long ago worn a different uniform in a very different theater of combat.

“Old habits die hard, that’s how it goes down. I need to take the pulse of my new terrain, do you get that?”

He’d spoken those words to the paramedic he’d be riding with in just a few short days.

“Yeah … Oh yeah, I get it.” Katrina Georgiou gave him a brief smile. “But …” She stopped to better form the question, “I’m gonna be ridin’ with you, Chad. I need to know what you’re bringin’ with you from your past, into my current equation. Do you get that?”

“So … why did I choose to leave? Is that what you need to know?” He asked, with a mask rapidly descending over a face once young, but rapidly ageing.

“Yeah … that’ll about cover it.” she’d said.

Chad had considered his response for a few long moments. His face reflected sadness accompanied by a firm resolve. “When you do your job … you do it for strangers, and the chances of you being called to attend someone you know and care deeply about are minuscule at best. Would that be an accurate assessment?”

She nodded her head, “If you mean family, I’ve only ever heard about that happening, maybe twice or three-times in my twenty-three-years on the job. But, I guess there are many different layers of caring … aren’t there?” She questioned gently and then continued, “Go on.”

“The people that I saw, the dead and the dying, the ones I could help and the ones it was too late to offer anything but  a prayer for, … a thankful prayer that death had been mercifully fast to take them. They weren’t nameless strangers. I ate with those men and women; I played cards and shot the breeze about baseball, and basketball and whatever other damned sport you care to name. I laughed with them and occasionally at them … and then far too often … I watched them bleed.

“So, here I am. These folks we’ll try and help, these folks will be strangers. Strangers I can tend to, to the best of my ability, and when they have been handed over to the hospital I can walk away without the need to hear the ones that care, the ones remaining, cry out their despair.” He looked into her face and saw the beginnings of understanding reflecting back at him from her kind eyes.

She touched his arm, “You’ll do me just fine.” She stood then and offered her hand, “Welcome to your new battle station, Chad.”

He shook the hand that she offered and left her.

He had uncharted terrain to explore. He’d grown up in this city, but he knew her pulse had changed.

He was almost done … only a couple of the dockyard places remained to  be looked at more fully.

The pulse of the city had slowly revealed itself to him,   making itself known to his hyper-alert senses.  He recognized the heartbeat of this city he’d been born in … and over the course of three long days and nights he began to recognize the areas that could explode with testosterone-fueled rage, or the rage of futility … for he knew too well, that rage had its own unique pulse.

Fear signaled a different beat again, the fear pulse came with a residual echo, as if hopelessness had its own sounding chamber.

The visual images of fear burned themselves into his core memory … .

He would save them for later.

Partly satisfied that his recon had given him at least some parameters to work with, he crawled into bed and finally slept. The sunrise heralded the beginning of his new tomorrow.

He watched it rise, and spent the day quietly; his shift began at 2100 hrs … 9.00 pm he corrected inside his military trained head … . He wanted to be, needed to be … must be, on premium, optimal, alert.

He was a little tense on the drive in, and pulled over and breathed through it before he continued.

Katrina  Georgiou,  acknowledged him briefly “We already have a call out, Chad. I’ll fill you in once we get underway.”

Chad climbed up into the ambulance and seated himself in the shotgun position beside her.

“Ready to rock n’ roll?” She asked.

“Let’s do it.”

She nodded and drove out.

She pulled expertly into the heavy traffic of a Friday night in this city, and hit the siren. She grunted in satisfaction as cars began to pull over to let the ambulance through.

“Okay, Chad, here’s where we’re at. We have a Police officer down.  Multiple shots fired, officers responding report  that our patient is on the pavement at the entrance to the old art-gallery off George and Park. No movement detected.”

“We first in?”

“Looks that way.”

“Understood” … “ETA?”

“Four minutes.”

Katrina pulled the ambulance expertly into the boundary already set up by the responding officers.  It was bordered shoulder-to-shoulder with a blue breathing wall of police.

The officer on the sidewalk was around fifteen-yards from the edge of the police presence.

Katrina spoke up, “We need to get to the casualty.”

The officer in charge nodded his head. “I understand that. He’s my man, but we still have a shooter somewhere in that alley. The rear access is covered, so our shooter could be more than a little desperate right around now.”

The body on the sidewalk moved slightly, an arm suddenly extended to drape itself across the side of the man currently facing them.

Chad looked at the blood rapidly pooling on the sidewalk.

“Oh fuck … he’s gut shot.” he said half to himself. “We don’t have time for this, guys. He  could bleed out pretty quickly.” He looked at Katrina and she gave him the yes nod he’d hoped for.

The cop in charge looked at them hard for just a moment “God bless you both.” He turned to his men. “Let’s do this … Jesus … okay, move … on my signal” He gave it, and put both he and another two officers in the direct line-of-fire to escort the paramedics the short distance to the fallen man in blue.

No shots came at them,  and Katrina and Chad set to work.

They were both on autopilot now … focused only on what they needed to do to give this one the very best chance of surviving.

“We’ll need the gurney to move him.” Katrina spoke softly.

“It’ll take too long, Katrina. I’ll carry him, if you go ahead of me and hold the drip feed lines. Yeah?”

She agreed and they prepared him hurriedly for the necessary dash to the ambulance. Both of them focused only on what was ahead and not what could well be waiting to kill them all from behind.

The cops closed ranks and provided them a brief shield, falling back into line with a rapid but pleased glance from the others still waiting to be ordered to move in.

Katrina climbed in to the driver’s seat once they had their patient secured, and Chad sat alongside the unconscious man and willed him to hold on.

The sound of a second shot startled them both, and not waiting to hear more, Katrina revved the vehicle, set the sirens screaming …  and got them all the hell out of Dodge.

The casualty made it the hospital and was still alive when he was handed across to the ready and prepared E.R staff.

***

Chad joined Katrina outside and was grateful when she offered him one of her cigarettes.

“That was quite a christening.” Katrina said as she lit up his Marlboro.

He looked down at his hands, relieved and a little surprised to find that they were steady.

“It was the same, wasn’t it … that Pulse beat you were talking about?” She asked suddenly.

He was surprised … then felt suddenly guilty at feeling that way. “Uh-huh … yeah, yeah …  it was.”

She reached for his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You do know that those boys in blue will be buying you beers for a long while to come … If you let them that is. Will you let them in close enough to allow that, will you let them be grateful, Chad?”

Chad checked his pulse rate, and then gave her a weary smile.

“I have no choice. Do I? Can we check on him before end of shift?”

“Welcome back to the land of the still living, Chad.”

Chad just nodded his head.

Ready or not … He had finally come home.

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“That Car.” A Short Story from the upcoming Anthology “Front-Line Heroes” By Suzanne Burke @pursoot

My latest work in progress is an anthology of stories dedicated to the bravery of men and woman worldwide. ALL those that silently and without fanfare hold down the Front Lines. ALL the front lines. On the streets of any town, anywhere, you’ll find them, The Policeman, Paramedics, Firefighters, Nurses and Doctors and all their support personnel. Those on the battle-fronts in foreign lands, and those on the battle-fronts of streets peopled with others that have slipped through the cracks and crevices of the world we now live in.

These are their stories.

 

FRONT-LINE HEROES …  Story two.

“That Car.”

by

 Suzanne Burke

Sarah Cunningham grinned at her reflection in the double glass doors. The silhouette of her advanced pregnancy still surprised her, and she placed her hand on her abdomen and whispered, “Your daddy will be home in ten-days, darling. He’ll be here to watch you take your first look at the world.”

She turned to her friend, Cathy. “Do you think I should have my hair styled, before Tommie gets back? He likes it long, but I’m guessing I won’t have too much free time to do it every day, not the way it used to be, anyway.”

Cathy laughed, “Honey, that man of yours will be too busy to notice anything apart from you and the fact that your baby is soon to arrive.”

“I’ve gained so much weight.” Sarah smiled and stole another comforting look at her profile, ‘But he’s so excited about the baby, I don’t think he’ll mind.”

Cathy didn’t comment; her friend didn’t need reassurance, not really.

If ever a couple were more in love than Lieutenant Thomas J. Parker, and his lady, she’d yet to witness it.

It was the same with she and Christopher. Both couples were childhood sweethearts. Then both Tommie and Christopher had joined the army. Well to be more precise they’d gone into O.T.S after graduating college. They figured they’d been covering each-other’s asses since grade school, they saw no reason at all why that should stop now. They both currently held the rank of Lieutenant.

It would be so good when her own man returned home. She hugged tight to the knowledge that it would be only another month. She must be content for now to bask in the reflected glow of Sarah’s happy anticipation.

“Lunch at ‘Surrender’?” she questioned, already knowing that Sarah would love the cuisine in the newest restaurant in town.

“Oh … I guess another couple of pounds won’t do too much damage.” She laughed and gazed at her stomach. ”Cathy, I can’t see my feet anymore. Unless I sit way back and elevate them.”

“They’re still hanging around at the bottom of your legs, hon. Trust me, I’ll tell you if they disappear.”

“Smart-ass.”

“You know it.”

With that, they linked arms as they’d done in their teens, and headed out to the car. Cathy adjusted the strap of Sarah’s safety harness, trying not to giggle idiotically as she stretched it as far as it would go.

Sarah couldn’t contain the smile that lit a light within her. “That man of mine has a whole lot more woman to love than when he left.”

“Yup, he does.”

Sarah punched her dearest friend in the arm. “Gee, thanks.”

The lighthearted mood continued throughout lunch, and then they oohed and sighed together over baby clothes and nursery decorations. Cathy knew that Sarah was waiting for Tommie to return before she decorated the nursery. They’d decided not to know the sex of their baby until he or she was born.

They arrived back at Sarah’s, and Cathy could see that her friend was weary; it took little for Sarah to run out of puff these days.

“Can I get you anything before I head on home, honey?”

“Hmm? Oh … no,  I’m good, thanks, Cathy.” She flicked a look at her phone. “Tommie’s due to ring me soon, so I’ll just rest up for a while.”

“Okay, I’m only two doors away if you need anything.” She gave her lifelong friend a hug, and locking the door behind her, she headed back to her empty house.

She crossed to the calendar and marked off one-more-day. “Twenty-nine days, left. God how I wish you were here now” Speaking her thoughts aloud was reassuring. The sound of her own voice left the rooms feeling less empty.

She crossed to the back door and stood looking out at the garage, she smiled recalling how she and Christopher, together with Sarah and Tommy had labored for many precious days of their last leave. The vegetable gardens and greenhouse were something that Christopher had a passion about. “I want to think of all this growing, and you out here in your sundress tending them like they were precious infants. That’s the stuff … I mean, you know … it’s the kind of stuff that keeps me together … when …”

Cathy squeezed his hand tightly in understanding, and Tommie came over and gave him a male style shove, “You never lose your shit, buddy. You hang on to it. That’s one thing that we all need to see, yeah? Just keep doin’ it.”

He said no more and the two friends just nodded to each other and Tommie had walked across and picked Sarah up and swung her till she was helpless with laughter.

We’re a team, all right.

Cathy grinned again at the memory, and then turned to the practical things she needed to do before she curled up on the couch and snuggled down to watch ‘Game of Thrones’. She’d copied every one of the episodes for Chris to watch when he got back. She smiled as she thought of his reaction. This was totally his kind of fantasy.

The phone rang, and she reluctantly paused her show. She shrugged on seeing the number, “Nope, don’t know you. But if you’re selling Insurance I’ll hang up in your ear.”

“Hello?”

“Cathy … baby  … can you hear me?”

“Chris!” She squealed with surprise and pleasure. “Darling I wasn’t expecting a call today,  this is great!

“Honey …  I … that is, have you seen Sarah, today?”

Cathy was puzzled, “Left her a couple of hours ago, but yeah, I was with her all morning. What? Do you need to pass a message on from Tommie or something?”

She heard his sudden sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone.

“Baby, you need to go over to Sarah’s, you’ll need to go now. They’ll be coming to see her soon …  Major Greenway and Father Ryan. She’ll need you, baby.” The last words were stretched out like an elastic band strung out beyond its capacity …

“Oh, no! Oh … sweet Jesus, no! Chris, not, Tommie. Not Tommie. What? … I mean … are they sure? Mistakes can happen, you know that, right?”

“Cathy, stop! Tommie’s gone. He’s dead. I was there. I know. You know  I  … I can’t say any more.”

“Darling, I’m so, so, sorry. I’ll go to her now. I’ll take care of her the best I can. Are you okay?”

“I have to be, babe. I love you. I’ll try and call tomorrow. Stay tough, baby.”

Cathy knew he was crying. She ached to hold him. But, she needed to get herself together fast, and go to Sarah. Not wanting her to be there alone when that car arrived.

Cathy knocked on the door and it was opened soon after by Sarah, a Sarah still drowsy from her nap.

“Hey, Cathy! Did you forget something?” Sarah asked, standing to one side to grant her friend access.

“No … would it be okay if I came back in for a little while?”

“Sure, it is … Cathy … you’re as white as a ghost. What is it? Oh, God … it’s not Christopher please tell me it’s not Christopher?”

Cathy shook her head slowly, unaware that her eyes were misted by tears. “No, sweetheart.” she said as she came in. Sarah looked at her blankly, and Cathy took her arm gently and steered her back down the short corridor and into the sitting room.

“What is it then? Tell me.” Sarah frantically searched her friend’s face for a sign.

“Oh, Sarah … I’m so sorry, darling.  It’s not Christopher, darling, it’s Tommie …”

“Is he hurt, oh God, how badly? Tell me quickly.”

“He’s not hurt, darling. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry …”

Sarah struggled to her feet and smoothed her hair back. “I’ll fix us a coffee. Yes … that’s what I’ll do.”

Cathy knew what her friend was doing,  Sarah needed normalcy for these last precious moments before her entire world imploded around her. Cathy had seen that look before.

Cathy’s mind was half-listening for the official car to drive into the driveway that Tommie had worked so hard to make. Her mind flicked briefly to a day only a month before when that car … that hated car had driven up to Bethany McCoy’s home. She and Sarah had hugged each other in sad and silent relief that it hadn’t stopped outside either of theirs.

“Would you like Oreo’s, Cathy? Tommie loves these things.” Sarah had already placed them on a pretty dish and walked the tray slowly back into the sitting room.

She placed it on the large coffee table and began the ritual of pouring them each a cup with hands that had begun to shake. It was all about rituals now. There was safety in the rituals.

“Sarah, love … did you hear me?”

Her friend looked at her and nodded. “Yes.” But her eyes denied her statement.

Cathy drew a breath that hurt as she heard the unmistakable sound of a car in the driveway.

She went down the corridor to the front door before they startled Sarah with the sound of the bell.

Father Ryan and Major Frank Greenway stood there, both looking as weary and sad as any man can.

Father Ryan spoke first, “Ah, Cathy my dear. It’s good that you’re here.”

Cathy just nodded and stood aside. “I … I tried to tell her. The baby is due soon. Please, please, be as gentle as you can. She doesn’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

Major Frank Greenway touched her arm softly. “No one ever does. Mrs. Collins.”

“Does her mother know yet?” Cathy asked. “She’ll need her mother.”

“No, not as yet.” The priest answered. “Tommie’s folks are of course being told around about now.”

“I’ll call her, mom. She should be here.”

“Yes, that would be good, thank you. Where is Sarah?” Major Greenway asked.

Cathy responded sadly, “She’s in the sitting room trying to hold on to this last moment as long as she can. It’s the last moment of sanity before her world turns insane.”

Cathy followed them into that space, in that time, in that place, and silently thanked the God she believed in, that for now, for this day, in this place, her own world remained intact.

“Oh, God, please … just twenty-nine more days.” She whispered before she entered a world now filled with the sound of her best friend’s pain.

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Acts Of Betrayal” Book 2 (Unintended Consequences”) By Suzanne Burke. A terrifyingly possible scenario! #RRBC #IARTG #IAN1. @pursoot

“If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared”

Niccolo Machiavelli

***

Can one powerful man bring mankind to the brink of extinction?

In this powerful sequel to Acts Beyond Redemption, Nigel Cantrell is back, and he’s out for blood.
One of his team holds on precariously to life, with no guarantees of recovery.

Can those responsible drag him into a nightmare he will struggle to contain?

In a complex dual where oaths taken are forsaken, and promises made are broken beyond repair, he must seek the help of the only people he can trust … people who revere him … and, those that despise him.

Cantrell is efficient and deadly, but even he has ghosts in his past, demons, that must be exorcised.  Nothing is more demonic than the peril he must now face, as a one man’s maniacal thirst for revenge is uncovered.
A man so enormously powerful, with a hatred so intense, so extreme, that the possible demise of his own species means nothing to him. He will dispense his revenge as his diseased mind sees fit.

Nigel Cantrell and his team do not have failure as an option.
The fate of their country and beyond now rests in their hands.
Can they prevent the final Acts of Betrayal?

Acts Of Betrayal on AMAZON.Com

 

“My Name is Flic.” A short story by Suzanne Burke. From my upcoming anthology. “Front-Line Heroes” @pursoot

What follows is one selection from an Anthology I’m working on.

The books title: “Front-Line Heroes.”

I want to pay tribute to ALL the Front-Line Heroes. The Soldiers, Paramedics, Police Officers, Firefighters, Doctors, Nurses, Drug Enforcement Agents, Teachers, Foster-Parents, Counsellors and Carers.

The selfless angels that work the streets every night from all the marvelous charitable organisations. They are the Front-Line Heroes … every precious one of them.

I hope my stories assist in further understanding their utter devotion, and undeniable humanity, and how they may need to deal with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

These are all works of fiction. However I hope that each reader will recognize these people, and give thanks that they exist.

***

My Name is Flic.

A Short Story.

By Suzanne Burke

Some people grow into the name they were given at birth by a mother caught up in hormone driven, wishful thinking. I wasn’t one of them. She named me Felicity. Now, I’ll grant you there is nothing wrong with the name. But, you know, sometimes people have a visual image pre-ordained in their heads that have all the Felicity’s as golden-haired, blue-eyed and sunny-natured, shining examples of goodness.

So, everyone that knows me understands that I prefer to be called Flic.

It had always been strange coming into this office. Trepidation was my constant companion on those days. The smell of the furniture polish never changes, nor does the light penetrating the squeaky-clean glass of the double glass doors.

It’s lonely here gazing down at the quadrangle, knowing I can see so clearly, without being observed.

I feel like an intruder in other people’s guarded moments, yet I need the comfort that observation will grant me right now. I needed to know what’s waiting down there in the quadrangle. I need to prepare.

The new intake of girls stand segregated for now, whilst the teachers act upon predetermined decisions on who to pair them up with. Each newbie will be partnered with an older, more experienced member of this community of discarded young people. A mentor to help ease them in to the difficult period of adjustment that lay waiting.

I watch the body language of the group, I need to identify them for my own satisfaction … I’ll know better how to move among them that way.

Four of the young people are quietly standing, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. They have long believed themselves unworthy of being loved. It would take time, and patience before that could change … if it ever did.

Three of the new intake are afraid. They have been suddenly taken from their comfort zones, their sanctuary. No matter how bad it had been, it was familiar, and something they had lived with all of their lives … until now.

Now the courts had made the choice to remove them from that environment. To place them into the care of people trained to help them redefine who they were.

Definitions were difficult in those early weeks and months as both teachers and students struggled to be accepted. I knew that.

I recognized two of the girls standing to the rear of the assembly. These girls were not new. I know them. They had been placed in foster homes and returned when they had proven too difficult to keep. The haunted look in their eyes battled with the sadness, as they accepted finally that the only home they would ever know … was this one. Until and unless they found the courage it would take to make it alone. My memory was rippled with the scattered bodies of these kids.

I knew their anger seethed just below a surface they created to expel any thought of comfort or human contact. They had long ago witnessed just how their skin could be stripped from their bones with words used like weapons on their fragile defenses.

I knew that anger. I also knew that it could and would explode into violence, unleashed by any one of a thousand trigger situations they could suddenly find themselves in …utterly unprepared.

The other girls stood out clearly, they didn’t walk to assembly, they strutted. Tossing long hair and smiling as if they held a secret that only they could ever see. These broken babies flirted with everyone, irrespective of gender or position in the pecking order. You were human and breathing and that was enough to force them to offer you themselves in return for whispered lies of love. Learning to stop equating sex with being loved was a lifetime of counseling away.

I knew too that the teachers burned out fast here. Some managed to survive all the pain they witnessed daily; but it was the support network they had outside these walls, that offered them their only tangible comfort.

Those that tried to absorb all that they witnessed in the vain hope they wouldn’t get flamed into nothingness by it … they crumpled like singed tissue paper and burned to a cinder. Many of them would never be able to teach again.

I looked on as a few of the youngest students started to cry. I watched them comforted by the others that had enough heart still left in them to offer it.

It all came down to the look in the eyes of both students and teachers. There was a hunted and haunted look that ate into your soul and remained there … indelible, immovable, and endlessly sad.

The door opened and Margot the school secretary caused me to turn away from the window.

She glanced at her wristwatch and gave me what passed for a reassuring smile, “It’s time, Flic.”

I nodded and answered, “Be right there.”

She smiled in acknowledgement and left the door ajar.

I gathered my scattered thoughts and wrapped them around me as I walked downstairs, and caught brief smiles of recognition from a few of those assembled.

I stepped up to the microphone. “Good morning, everyone.”

And sixty voices echoed back at me, “Good Morning Principal Flic.”

I had traveled full circle. I had come home.

 

 

 

Book Review: “Our Justice” By John W. Howell. #RRBC @HowellWave

BOOK REVIEW OUR JUSTICE BY JOHN W HOWELL

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John began his writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive business career. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. His first book, My GRL, introduces the exciting adventures of the book’s central character, John J. Cannon. The second Cannon novel, His Revenge, continues the adventure, while the final book in the trilogy, Our Justice, launched in September 2016. All books are available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions.

John lives in Port Aransas, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.

MY BOOK REVIEW:  🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 A Riveting action-packed thriller!

Having read and thoroughly enjoyed both “My GRL” and “His Revenge” I was in need of an action fix and eager to begin reading this novel which is book 3 of this fast paced trilogy.

Unlikely hero John J. Cannon had proven himself adept at escaping the attempts by a terrorist bent on an insane need for revenge against The United States of America and more specifically her President.

Matt Jacobs is wealthy, powerful and bordering on insane. He is determined to succeed at any cost. He wants John J Cannon to be the one to unleash hell, and the action in this novel ramps up to breath holding sequences that leave the reader hanging on for a shattering climax.

Author John W. Howell doesn’t disappoint on any level.

His characterizations are cleverly subtle, allowing the reader to visualize the potent scenes without overwhelming them with too much description. This author commands the attention with a clear gift at plot structure, and superb pacing that will leave you immensely satisfied as Our Justice reaches its unpredictable and shattering climax.

I believe this talented author has another book in a totally different genre coming out soon.

I will be waiting eagerly to read it.

John W.Howell Author PAGE AMAZON

PURCHASE MY GRL HERE ON AMAZON

PURCHASE BOOK 2 ‘His Revenge” Here

PURCHASE BOOK 3 “OUR JUSTICE” HERE

FACEBOOK

 

TWITTER

 

 

Author Showcase … Featured genre: Mystery/Thriller/Suspense. Featured Author John W. Howell.

Hello and welcome to Author Showcase! I will be featuring different authors & genres each month. I interview each author, and showcase their featured work.

WHY? Simply because I enjoy supporting other Indie Authors every chance I get.

This Month I am featuring Mystery/Thriller/Suspense Authors.

Please welcome my guest, Author John W. Howell.

Meet John.

John W. Howell.

John began his writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive business career. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories.  His first book, My GRL, introduces the exciting adventures of the book’s central character, John J. Cannon. The second Cannon novel, His Revenge, continues the adventure, while the final book in the trilogy, Our Justice, launched in September 2016.  All books are available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions. John lives in Port Aransas, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.

Author Interview:

1. What inspired you to write in this genre?

 My genre is Thrillers and I love to write stories that grab the reader. Since I write in the first person present tense my stories tend to unfold as the reader proceeds. I love the idea of having a plot point deviate in a different direction. A thriller is supposed to keep the reader guessing and that is what inspires me. When my reviews validate the fact that the story twists and turns I feel satisfied I’ve done my job.

2. How much research was required before you began to write &did the characters then create more research by their actions?

My research was extensive. My story is about boats, explosives, airplanes, and other subjects which are not part of my knowledge base. All these elements needed to be thoroughly researched before the writing began. As the characters began to have a voice in the story additional research was necessary in order to deliver what the character was demanding.

3. How would you best describe your protagonist?

John Cannon is a litigation attorney. He is as normal as a lawyer can be. He doesn’t have any special talents or survival skills on which he can depend when the going gets tough. He has a keen mind and the patience to wait until he is certain of an outcome before going into action. He also has a fondness for delicious coffee which puts him in good stead with the antagonist.

4. Have you written or do you intend to write in other genres.

I have completed a book in a genre that I would describe as Spiritual or Speculative fiction. It is due to be published in September.

5. Is this novel a stand-alone or part of a series?

My GRL is the first book in the John Cannon Trilogy

6. Are you currently working on anything new?

I am currently working on another spiritual fiction novel and am working with a very talented collaborator. The story is about two spirits who are challenged to return to Earth with the objective of preventing a singular act that has the potential of destroying humanity.

I then ask my guests to pose a question to themselves, and their response.

& 7. Hummm. I think the question I would ask is What advice would you give to someone who wants to be a writer?

My advice is: 1. Write for the right reasons. If you get joy from writing then it is your thing. If you want to be rich or famous walk away. 2. Write every day. Set a goal and stick to it. The only way to become a better writer is to write. 3. Until your draft is finished, do not share it with anyone. Well-meaning folks tend to discourage new writers. A new writer does not need to have people question or evaluate the manuscript until it is done. Then the gates can be opened. 4. Do not edit or try to improve the manuscript as you go along. Finish it then go back. All writing needs editing. If the new writer does too much of it before the manuscript is done chances are it will never be done.

FEATURED BOOK: “MY GRL”

 John J. Cannon successful San Francisco lawyer takes a well-deserved leave of absence from the firm and buys a boat he names My GRL. He is unaware that his newly purchased boat had already been targeted by a terrorist group. John’s first inkling of a problem is when he wakes up in the hospital where he learns he was found unconscious next to the dead body of the attractive young woman who sold him the boat in the first place. John now stands between the terrorists and the success of their mission.

 John w. Howell’s  FAVORITE AMAZON REVIEW.

John Cannon is a thirty-eight-year-old partner in a law firm in California who decides to take a twelve month leave from the practice in order to decide if he is truly happy with the “comfort of the routine I had come to know and hate” or if he would prefer a different lifestyle now that he has the financial means to live as he pleases. At first, everything proceeds wonderfully with a relocation to Port Aransas on the Texas Gulf Coast. The quick acquisition of a twelve-month lease on a home and purchase of a car and sixty-five-foot boat, which he names My Grl, all point to a positive future, only when John becomes implicated in the murder of the broker through whom he bought the boat he finds his reality turned upside down. John’s life now appears to be in enough of a tangle when he discovers himself caught between the local police, the FBI and a possible love interest, but the plotlines become further knotted when a terroristic agenda, in which an enemy from his past has placed John and My GRL at the center, is revealed, and John finds that he is the only person who can prevent a massacre

There are several key concepts to achieve when writing a novel from the first-person perspective, arguably chief among them is creating a character with a distinctive voice who the reader can not only “hear” as being an actual person but who is someone the reader would like to know in real life. Howell’s character John Cannon exemplifies these goals through his stream of consciousness inner monologues in which he reveals himself to be an ordinary man with everyday concerns and fears, not some superhero with radioactively-induced mutant gifts that the average reader can only have described in graphic novel imagery or with incomprehensible technical jargon. Cannon is a man not unlike ourselves who, though in the end having some high-level support, is put into a position where he is the only person who can connect the dots and prevent a terrorist attack. In addition to the crafting of the protagonist himself, the plotting of “My GRL” is to be commended. Unlike the thrillers produced by the major publishing houses, “My GRL” provides a true to life reveal of the big picture where the reader, seeing the world through the eyes of John Cannon, learns every detail in tandem with the man who by the end of the novel would become a hero. More than just an exciting read, as a piece of literature, “My GRL” proves the worth of independent publishing in allowing Howell to provide a quality storyline that willfully neglects the formulaic in the interest of pulling the reader directly into the middle of an exciting, ever-developing, complex plot.

The Other books in the series.

Author John W. Howell may be reached on the following links.

 Author Blog ‘Fiction Favorites’

 FACEBOOK

TWITTER

Amazon AUTHOR page

Thank you for stopping by. My next featured author this month is Mae Clair.

Book Review: “My GRL” by John W. Howell @HowellWave #RRBC #IARTG #Thriller

Hello and welcome to my review!  “My GRL” by John W. Howell. The first of the John Cannon Thriller series.

Meet Author, John W. Howell.

John began his writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive business career. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. His first book, My GRL, introduces the exciting adventures of the book’s central character, John J. Cannon. The second Cannon novel, His Revenge, continues the adventure, while the final book in the trilogy, Our Justice, launched in September 2016. All books are available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions.

John lives in Port Aransas, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.

John J. Cannon successful San Francisco lawyer takes a leave of absence from the firm and buys a boat he names My GRL. He is unaware that his newly-purchased boat had already been targeted by a terrorist group. John’s first inkling of a problem is when he wakes up in the hospital where he learns he was found unconscious next to the dead body of the attractive young woman who sold him the boat in the first place. John now stands between the terrorists and the success of their mission.

MY REVIEW OF MY GRL 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

I’m always a little skeptical when I begin reading an author with whom I’m unfamiliar, especially when they are writing in my favorite genre.

I go into any book,  with high anticipation tempered by restraint.

I immediately walked into unfamiliar terrain. I have never read a  work of fiction with the perspective of first person present before. It felt a little uncomfortable at first, but the plot it is so intensely gripping that my discomfort disappeared rapidly, and I settled back excited to continue.

I found myself liking the pivotal character John Cannon, he had depth, and a quirky, often wry, sense of humor. Author John W. Howell incorporates pithy one-liners throughout the book, and some of them actually had me laughing out loud as I read. The humor affords the reader the chance to draw a deep breath: You’ll need it, as the pacing of this book is fast, the tension high, and the suspense is nerve shattering.

I’m one of those dreadful people that seem to successfully predict the outcome of books and movies: NOT this time. Author John Howell has nailed it. I took the bait several times, then found myself chuckling at just how wrong I’d been.

We are given deep insights into what drives John Cannon. A couple of reviewers call the character of John Cannon, naive. My take is that the character has a profound love for his country, he is a total and unwavering patriot, and uncaring of who knows it. His apparent naivety,  for me at least, equates to his unwillingness to judge things without deep introspection.

At times I wanted to grab the character by the throat and shake him, and in my opinion, that is precisely what the author wanted us to do. He allows John Cannon to be human, a guy you’d want to invite over for a cook out; a guy with flaws, dreams and desires.

. John Cannon becomes three dimensional and highly visual. THAT for me is the trademark of a fine author.

This author encapsulates all that any reader could ask for in the pages of this book.

My GRL is the first book in a THREE book series.

I’m heading off to buy book 2.

‘John Howells Blog

John W.Howell Author PAGE AMAZON

PURCHASE MY GRL HERE ON AMAZON

PURCHASE BOOK 2 ‘His Revenge” Here

PURCHASE BOOK 3 “OUR JUSTICE” HERE

Connect with John W. Howell on TWITTER here @HowellWave

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