Denibus Ar by Chris Turner

Kindle Price:
$0.99
Available:
Amazon US Kindle
Barnes and Noble Nook
Amazon US Paperback
Authors Website: 
www.innersky.ca
Blog: innerskybooks.blogspot.com
                         Twitter: twitter.com/#!/ChrisInnersky

The discovery of a six-sided pyramid creates a stir in the archaeological world. A team of international archaeologists are sent to excavate the site in the bleak Sahara; however, in the midst of unexplained phenomena, military corruption and paranormal sightings, they uncover a sinister presence.
When Australian archaeologist Carl Langley experiences visions and protective urges for site relics while in the newly-discovered tunnel entrance to Sinesi 1, he is progressively beset with deeper mystical connections with what he believes is the long dead Pharaoh of Upper Egypt.

Conditions worsen. Now the presence is in full force, believed to be haunting the ruins, and the military has threatened to shut down the site.

Can Langley overcome his mystical possession, by a force of which he has no comprehension? He must hurry, for there are other diabolic forces that wish to penetrate one of the greatest archaeological finds of the century!

Bio:

Chris is a prolific author of fantasy, adventure, and science fiction. His writing spans many genres: heroic fantasy, sword and sorcery, speculative fiction, thriller and humour. His books include: the Rogues of Bindar series, Future Destinies, Fantastic Realms and Denibus Ar.

Chris is also a prolific painter, with nearly a thousand oil art works to his name. He has also been involved in extensive studio recording. After graduating from University of Waterloo in Honours Mathematics and Computer Science, 1990, he backpacked and biked throughout Europe and Asia before teaching computer programming courses in Ottawa, Canada.

Excerpt 

In the light of his lamp, Quapseth craned his neck, curious at what might lie beyond this peculiar stone. He saw a low, squat tunnel racing into the inky gloom. The catacomb was barely wide enough for him to crawl through. Yet at its end, lay a hollow disc of watchful darkness. Its too-smoothly polished walls guarded the strange quality of death. At the outset, the suspicion seemed purely irrational, but yet, a sentiment of intuition screamed at him: “Cover up the hole. Get out of here! Never look back!”

Lips curled, Qapseth puzzled over the conflicting emotions brewing in his brain. The smell of incense wafted from deeper within the tunnel. He could retrace his steps, explore the leftmost passage where branched the initial T junction, but some vague intuition told him to abandon the enterprise. Why did he not just continue ahead?

The young boldness in him had a sudden unnerving sensation: cold unforgiving eyes bored in his back. He ducked out of the tunnel, whirling on his haunches, glaring at the statue with a nervous apprehension.

What was this? A flicker of movement? The sudden glinting of eyes in the ram’s head?

The hairs on the back of Qapseth’s neck stood on end. The statue seemed to have moved closer.

Qapseth chided himself, dismissing it as a trick of the eye. It was the product of nervous tension, an imagination running rampant!

Despite his flippant assurance, he felt chilled, and hunted for the source of the probing, unseen scrutiny. The presence watched him from beyond the elegantly crafted walls—intelligent awareness needing not a living body to perceive the invasion of his design.

His unspeakable fear took every ounce of power to fight. But eventually the fright was matched by the shame of defeat in his comrades’ eyes.

Qapseth fell on his belly, wormed his way into the narrow tunnel. With elbows and knees thrusting awkwardly, he burrowed into the tunnel, lamp splayed in front.


Interview with Chris Turner


What will readers like about your book?

I think Denibus Ar has a powerful story line. It features modern day archaeology and also delves into ancient history. The text is well written and the characters are very real; one can almost reach out and touch them! Additionally, the theme is very profound, and has a lot to do with our present-day world encroaching on the older one. What are the repercussions we must suffer as a result of our intrusions?

Why did you self publish?

No other real option. I think an unknown writer can write the most fantastic story and be ignored by the traditional publishers—or spend years trying to get noticed. With self-publishing, authors can upload their brainchild in a heartbeat, and if one is keen, he/she can market the book successfully with the many online tools available, like Indieebooks. Self-published work can sink or soar on its own merit. I think this is really what excites me. The presence of an open, receptive market empowers every author with the chance of success.

What is your writing process?

I write a lot of material and edit a lot. I think sheer discipline and a love for story-telling keeps me going. It’s the final product that matters the most: when I read a work that is ‘finished’ and flowing beautifully, I can get a smile of satisfaction from the spirit of passion that is carved on those pages. As for the spark (where the ideas come from), I have traced it as, first a snatch of setting, usually an exotic world, and then the characters appear, with their struggles and karma forming the basis of a story. Conflicts shape the plot and from there the novel writes itself . . . Sounds easy? I wish it were so!

How long does it take you to write your first draft?

The first draft comes quickly. Denibus Ar took about 3 months, after I had recently returned from an inspiring trip to Egypt, but this was full-time writing and it was not until recently that I finished the editing. The subsequent editing is the killer and time-consumer for me. Months and months of it! I’m a stickler for quality, and will not settle for second best. I make good writing style my trademark—and I stick to the maxim that ‘it’s all worth it’.

What inspired you to write this particular story?

I had visited Egypt in 2001 and was blown away by the archaeology—the tombs, temples and pyramids—set against the backdrop of the Sahara desert. While exploring these mystical places, I was struck with the speculation about what the Pharaohs would feel, knowing that their sacred burial sites were disturbed by a bunch of roving tourists, or that their resting places had become ‘public museums’ for all to see. My conclusion was ‘not very much’, thus, the story Denibus Ar, unfolded.

Sugar & Spice: the controversial psycho-sexual thriller (American edition) by Saffina Desforges

Kindle Price: 

99c/89p
Available from: 

Amazon 

Waterstones 

Smashwords 

Tesco 

B&N
Authors Website:

www.saffinadesforges@gmx.com

Inspired by a news story of a man who begged a Judge to give him a longer sentence, because he knew he would harm another child if released without treatment, Sugar & Spice is meticulously researched, asking the questions society prefers not to have answered.
At once disquieting and challenging, Sugar & Spice is car-crash reading.
~
It's every parent's worst nightmare: A child fails to return home. As hours turn to days, all they can do is hope. Some children never come back...
Driven by the need to know why, a mother confronts the man accused of her daughter's murder, He presents a compelling defence, convincing Claire not only that he is innocent of harming her daughter, but that his previous convictions were not what they seemed.
Teaming up with a second-year psychology student and a fourteen year-old truant schoolboy, Sugar & Spice is the story of a mother's fight to bring one man's reign of terror to an end.
~
Be warned: In Sugar & Spice not all things are nice...

Bio:

Saffina Desforges is the UK writing team that have swept the UK Kindle charts and sold 75,000 copies of their debut novel since January!! Check out the website for more details

Excerpt 

“There’s no possibility it’s someone else?”

“We won’t have DNA confirmation before the morning, but no. The bicycle is Rebecca’s. The clothes are a match, too. It would be senseless to hope otherwise.”

Claire appeared in the far doorway as Matt ushered Pitman through. Her stooped posture, moist, black-ringed eyes and painfully visible collar bones told their story.

Pitman hesitated, unsure of an appropriate greeting.

Claire unwrapped bony arms from around herself , stretching out a trembling hand, nails bitten to the quick. “It’s okay, Inspector. I’ve had two weeks to prepare for this. I won’t embarrass you.”

Pitman stumbled with his words. “We... we have a trained officer, a female officer, you would prefer…”

“What Claire wants most of all are answers, Dave, not a complete stranger offering well-meaning platitudes and stock responses.”

Pitman turned to Claire. “Even so... some people find that helps.”

She shook her head, struggling to keep control. She forced her question through a tight throat, stress-induced asthma heavy on her chest, inhaler to hand.

She whispered, “What did he do to her?”

“We won’t know for sure until the autopsy is complete, Claire.” Pitman paused, sensing she wanted more. “It looks like she was strangled.”

Matt put his hand out to Claire but she moved away.

“It’s okay, Matt.” She looked directly at Pitman, searching his eyes. “Did he... touch her?”

“We’re still waiting for...” he stopped himself. He owed it to Claire, to Matt, to cut the police talk. “In all probability, yes. The body had been stripped. We’ll know more in a few hours. I’m sorry.”

Claire’s legs finally buckled underneath her. She put a hand out to steady herself. “Can I see her?”

Pitman fingered the pipe in his pocket, desperate to light up. It was always more difficult with someone you knew, however brief the acquaintance. “Claire, the body… Rebecca... She had been in the water a long time… there’s nothing to see.”

Matt reached for Claire’s hand and gripped it hard. This time she didn’t fight.

Choking back a sob, she rested a head on his shoulder, tears cascading down her pale cheeks.

Matt asked, “What happens now?”

“We’ll do everything we can, Matt, you know that.”

He paused, turning to Claire. “One question I have to ask. I’m sorry. Did Rebecca ever varnish her nails?”

Claire looked confused, trying to focus on his face through her tears. “Her nails?”

“Claire, her fingernails were bright yellow. Varnished or painted. It wasn’t mentioned on the description when she went missing. Do you remember her painting her nails before she went out that evening?”

She shook her head, sniffing loudly, her voice wavering. “Rebecca never wore make-up of any sort. Never.”

“At a friend’s house, maybe?”

Claire looked up, a sudden, frantic hope in her eyes. “Inspector, are you sure it’s her? Could it be someone else?”

Pitman wanted, with every fibre of his being, to fuel her hope, but he extinguished it eternally with his next words.

“It’s Rebecca. I’m very sorry.”

Interview with Saffina Desforges

What will readers like about your book? 

'Like' is the wrong word. There's nothing to like in S&S, be horrified by, captivated by, maybe - but not like. If you enjoy crime thrillers that challenge the norm, then this is for you.

Why did you self publish? 

Solely due to the subject matter. Now we would have to seriously consider doing anything else.

What is your writing process? 

Write by the seat of our pants and let the characters develop the story!

How long does it take you to write your first draft? 

Usually (in total) around 6-8 weeks

What inspired you to write this particular story? 

Robert Black a child murderer in the UK in the 90s

  

American Nightmare by T.K. Murphy

Kindle Price: 

$0.99
Available from:

Kindle

B&N

Smashwords

Bob is a very nice man, who has always lived by the rules. Then one by one, things go horribly wrong and Bob becomes unglued, leading to a massive killing spree.

Bio: I have worked in corporations all my life, but love to write. Writing has been a passion for me , since I was a kid and this is my first book.

Excerpt 

He would take care of Olaf in a different way. This was different. Before he reacted out of panic, but now Bob was shifting into deliberative thought and action. Bob first needed to get rid of the cars. Then he realized he had Allison’s cell phone. He decided on a plan of action. He cleaned the car and bleached it and then washed it again and left it to dry. He charged up her cell phone. Bob had helped Gertrude with her email numerous times and he knew her password. 

Bob was very fond of photography and videotaping and had uploaded numerous nature videos onto the web. Bob tailed Olaf in Allison’s car and staked out the cabin with the boy. He knew the comings and goings of Olaf. Olaf often made out with the boy outside, as nobody could see from the road and he would hear if someone used the dirt road. Once he figured out Olaf’s schedule with the boy, Bob stealthily videotaped Olaf. He made sure he got enough footage that there would be no doubt.


Interview with T.K. Murphy

What will readers like about your book? 

It is a fast pace thriller and connects to the difficulties faced by many in America today.

Why did you self publish? 

It is very easy to self publish and I really enjoy putting out my own unique flavor .

What is your writing process? 

It flows very smoothly. I always enjoy writing and it is very therapeutic.

How long does it take you to write your first draft? 

About a couple of months.

What inspired you to write this particular story? 

I have worked in corporate America for most of my adult life. I have seen the devastation wracked by clueless people at the top-who have stopped caring about others . There is no sesne of community or belonging anymore. What intrigued me is the way people react when encountering hardship. people I thought were very stable, snapped and people who are always going on and on about things, seemed to cope the best. 

It intrigued me and I wrote this novella and the following sequel, "The Retreat" about the psyche of people under stress, when the world does not make sense anymore. Of course, it is fiction and I have shaped it so, but I think truth is stranger than fiction!

Darker Things by Rob Cornell

Kindle Price:
$2.99
Available from:
Amazon US Kindle
Author's websites:
www.rob-cornell.com

Craig Lockman--no one had called him that in fifteen years.

Not since his days at the Agency. Not since he was trained to kill creatures that were supposed to exist only in nightmares.

Yet the teenage girl on his doorstep not only knows his real name, she claims she's his daughter.

Before Lockman can learn how the girl found him, he's attacked by a black-ops team of assassins. But these aren't ordinary killers--they're heavily armed vampires sent by his most hated enemy.

Forced on the run, Lockman protects his daughter from an onslaught of horrors while searching for who betrayed him and why. The investigation leads him to Detroit, where he unwittingly sets a plan into motion that could trigger a paranormal apocalypse and cost him his soul.

For fans of Jim Butcher, Simon R. Green, and Laurell K. Hamilton... Darker Things is an 82,000-word urban fantasy loaded with double-crosses, thrilling action, and shocking twists.

Also includes bonus excerpts from Tara Maya's THE UNFINISHED SONG: INITIATE and Kent R. Conrad's DEAD FURST.

About Rob Cornell

An accidental nomad, Rob Cornell grew up in suburban Detroit, then spent five years living in Los Angeles before moving to Chicago to receive a BA in Fiction Writing from Columbia College. He has traveled full circle, now living in rural southeast Michigan with his wife, two kids, and dog, Kinsey—named after Sue Grafton’s famous detective. In between moving and writing, he’s worked all manner of odd jobs, including lead singer for an acoustic cover band and a three-day stint as assistant to a movie producer after which he quit because the producer was a nut job.

Interview with Rob Cornell

Nadine Earnshaw: What will readers like about your book?

Rob Cornell: If you like vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and other supernatural things, you’ll dig this book. Non-stop action. Fun characters. I’m hoping it’s the kind of novel that will keep you up all night reading. Plus, I take the typical paranormal tropes and filter them through my viewpoint. These aren’t your mama’s vampires…and don’t even ask about the ghost. He’ll freak you out.

Nadine Earnshaw: What is your writing process?

Rob Cornell: It seems like this is always in flux, but over time I’ve come to count on a few things. I have to know where I’m going (or believe I do). I can wing short stories, but the complexity of plot and character that goes into a novel makes me too nervous to fly by the seat of my pants. So, yes, an outline. I used to do this on index cards, but now I have a software program that imitates cards. 

I don’t feel as bad deleting electronic cards as I did crumpling up paper ones and throwing them in the trash. Also, I’ve started embellishing my index card outline. I hate coming to the computer ready to write and having no clue where to go. When I’m at the keyboard I want to jam. I also agree with novelist Andrew Gross (The Blue Zone, Don’t Look Twice, etc.). I don’t want the story controlling me; I want to be in control of the story. I’m creating something I hope entertains and even moves people. Ain’t gonna leave that to chance.

Nadine Earnshaw: What inspired you to write this particular story?

Rob Cornell: This story came out of my love for two different kinds of stories. I love Lee Child’s Jack Reacher thrillers. Great character, hard-hitting action. Lots of fun. I am also gaga over Jim Butcher’s Harry Dresden. The magic is fun. The supernatural villains are too cool. A fantastic protagonist with a complex supporting cast. For me it was a chocolate and peanut butter moment—like the old peanut butter cup commercials. “Who put their chocolate in my peanut butter?” I wanted to put the supernatural into my action thriller. Darker Things was born out of that urge.

Excerpt:

Gabriel sips from the ornate cup, the familiar taste of blood awakening his taste buds. It is nearly time. The hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand up as the air in the room turns electric. Heat emanates from the cup in his hands, growing until his palms sting. He swallows the pain along with the blood. He will not let go. Not when he is so close.

Blood still sputters from the lamb carcass on the table before him. Gabriel wishes he had time to find a human sacrifice, but he knows his time is short. They’ll be here soon.

He drinks again from the cup.

His head grows light. The basement floor tips under his feet.

Upstairs, the sound of the front door breaking open and the shouts of weak men who wear body armor and brandish guns. They are coming for him.

Gabriel drains the blood from the cup and mumbles ancient words that do not belong to this world. Besides the commotion upstairs, a buzzing fills his ears. Orange light flares along the cup’s lip where a smear of blood remains. A searing heat burns in Gabriel’s belly, doubling him over.

The cup clangs against the cement floor and rolls away.

The heat in his gut expands, rushes through him like adrenalin set aflame.

What have I done?

The texts on this ritual weren’t specific about the results. All he knows is that it should make him more powerful. Perhaps even immortal. Instead, it feels like it’s killing him.

Heavy pounding of boots on the basement stairs. A moment later the door crashes open and a slash of light shines at Gabriel’s back.

“Freeze! Hands on your head. Hands on your fucking head.”

The flashlight beam mounted to the intruder’s gun casts a mutant shadow on the opposite wall. Gabriel’s head looks as if it is rising from the slaughtered lamb’s body. A sign. He must trust his power.

He raises his hands and slowly stands straight.

“Turn around.”

Gabriel obeys. The flashlight shines in his face, blinding him.

The lamb’s blood boils in his stomach, the orange glow so bright now it shows through his skin and shirt.

“What the fuck?” asks the intruder.

Gabriel smiles. “You cannot kill me.” He reaches behind him and grasps the knife he used to slit the lamb’s throat. He lifts it over his head, ready to lunge for the man with the gun.

A soft pufft sound followed by a sting in his neck. Gabriel drops the knife and reaches up to find the dart right before the effects swim through him. The fire in his belly sputters and goes out. His vision blurs and he falls to the floor.

A man steps over him, looking down like a disappointed parent.

“Did you really think I’d let you die?”

It’s hard to speak. Gabriel’s tongue feels fat in his mouth. His face has gone numb. “I’ll never talk.”

The man smirks. “Oh, you’ll do more than talk, Gabriel. Way more.”

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Electronic Crime in Muted Key by Nick Wastnage

Kindle Price:
$0.99
Available from:
Amazon US Kindle
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords
Apple
Author's websites:
www.nickwastnage.com

Enter the enigmatic world of Barry Carter; a man who lives two lives and believes his sinister plan to scam millions and fake his death is foolproof. He’s right, until his bitter lover and distraught wife team up to seek him out. They want retribution but are stopped by the police, who’ve found Carter first and want to question him about a murder, a stolen dead body and an international cyber crime. A frantic chase ensues and there can be only one winner.

About Nick Wastnage

I’m a crime writer. I write about people involved in sinister deeds like murder, extortion and retribution.

I’ve worked in a seaside arcade, as a record salesman, a decorator, a merchant banker, a marine and a retailer. I was once shot by terrorists and winched from the jungle into a helicopter and flown to hospital.

I live with my wife in Bucks.

Interview with Nick Wastnage

N.L. Earnshaw: What will readers like about your book? 

Nick Wastnage: It's fast moving, exciting and original plot. The colourful, varied and diverse characters and how a scorned wife and a bitter lover race against the police to get their retribution and revenge on a fraudster and the man each thought was theirs.

N.L. Earnshaw: Why did you self publish?

Nick Wastnage: Because I think Electronic Crime in Muted Key is an entertaining story and I want to get it read and I'm fed up with continual rejections from the big name traditional print publishers.

N.L. Earnshaw: What is your writing process?

Nick Wastnage: I get up at 7am, take my wife to the station and come home and have breakfast and an espresso coffee, a must, and then go to my study, built in a corner of my garage, and
start to write. I look out on the garden. Sometimes a friendly robin comes and sits on a table in front of my window and stares at me. I like to think it's the same one each time, but I can't be sure. I write for about five hours in complete silence and then break for some lunch, usually some fruit and a piece of cheese with a large glass of water and another espresso and, maybe - if I'm pleased with what I've written - a couple of squares of dark chocolate. In the afternoon I answer and send emails and do marketing activities. After that I go to the gym. I don't write in the evening. I've no brain left.

N.L. Earnshaw: How long does it take you to write your first draft?

Nick Wastnage: About four to six months.

N.L. Earnshaw: What inspired you to write this particular story?

Nick Wastnage: Strangely, I overheard someone in a restaurant saying they were thinking of faking their death to escape their debts. I was on my own and made a point of listening to what they said. I made notes on a paper napkin. I almost forgot to eat my food.



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Chop Suey by Ty Hutchinson

Kindle Price:
$2.99
Available from:
Amazon US Kindle
Barnes & Noble
IBook
Author's websites:
tyhutchinson.wordpress.com

When disgraced sales associate, Darby Stansfield, discovers he has six months to save his job, he does what any normal person would do. He freaks.

Desperate to resurrect his career at Teleco Wireless, he conjures up an international scheme filled with the promise of endless high-spending clients. It’s brilliant, it’s successful, and it involves doing business with organized crime.

But soon those closest to him find themselves caught up in his dangerous plan and one of these unknowingly has the power to destroy him. Darby must now make a tough decision––give up on the one good idea he ever had or risk it all.

Excerpt 

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. With a flick of my wrist, I snapped it opened. I practiced this the night before over and over again until I had it just right. The downward movement, the amount of crispness to the paper… all of it was methodically thought out.

“What about this?” I yelled. “What do you think about this, you fat fuck?”

Printed on the paper was a picture of Fat Sal picking up one of those crackhead twinks always cruising Broadway Avenue near the strip clubs. Mr. Tough Guy here likes play ball with the other team.

Fat Sal snatched the paper from my hand. “Where did you get this?”

“Take it––I got plenty. I might even drop them accidentally around the neighborhood? Hey North Beach, get a load of this.”

Stage three of my plan had arrived. I needed it, considering stage two was all about revealing Fat Sal’s secret.

I was still in the headlock––it was expected. So I locked on to my target, balled up my fist, and swung with all my might right up between his legs. Fat Sal let out a wail that sounded like a moose giving birth.

Predictability will get the dumb ones all the time. It’s easy to hunt a creature of habit. Close your eyes, count to ten, and pull the trigger. If the timing’s right––bull’s-eye. And so far, my timing was impeccable.

My other clients were also retail establishments. I had the Beauty Spot Salon and Tanaka’s Kendo Dojo on contract. None of them needed anything I had to sell. How am I supposed to make living if all I’ve got to work with are mom-and-pop’s? Give me an IBM and I’ll sell a million dollars a year, no problem. Then maybe I’ll be back where I should be: on top. But guess what? I don’t have them, so blackmail it is.

Fat Sal was the guinea pig and so far things were going well. I considered hitting all three of them today. I already gathered proof of their misdeeds. I could if I wanted, too. I might.

And if things took a different turn with the others, in my back pocket I had a foot-stomp for Master Tanaka and a roundhouse hairdryer to the head for Ms. Siu. Wham, bam, thank you, gang.

Fat Sal released his grip as he yelped in pain. I pulled away and grabbed the R-450 Teleco Wireless Router off the counter and whacked the side of his head, sending him down to his knees. That got his attention quickly.

“Listen up,” I said. “I expect you to buy ten of these bad boys. You got that?”

The truth is, I only intended for him to buy five routers but seeing how easy this was, I called an audible right before the hike and upped the quantity. If I could register ten sales, it would take some of the heat off me at the office. My sales had been in a coma long enough.

Fat Sal was still hunched over when he looked up at me. His face flushed red with embarrassment; perhaps a little anger was mixed in. I wasn’t worried, though. I expected this sort of reaction. Fat Sal got turned out by this here pimp.

And then the unexpected happened.

About Ty Hutchinson

My name is Ty Hutchinson and I'm from Hawaii. What does that mean? I don't need to tan. Most days I'm writer at Goodby, Silverstein & Partners. For you people not in the know, it's an advertising agency. Yes, I'm fully aware that it sounds like a law firm and that's why, depending on the situation, I'm also a lawyer. 

My work has appeared in all the major advertising award shows and reported on in publications like Advertising Age, Creativity, Communication Arts and Archive. When I'm not building brands, you'll find me traveling the world, playing video games, eating, reading, exploring SF's Chinatown (to date I have six Shrimp Boy sightings) or hard at work writing thriller novels. 

My first book, Chop Suey, is out now. It's about Darby Stansfield, the first telecommunication consultant to the criminal world It had my editor gasping, giggling and laughing so hard, she more than once choked on her drink. I hope you enjoy Darby as much as she did.

Interview with Ty Hutchinson

N.L. Earnshaw: What will readers like about your book? 

Ty Hutchinson: They will like two things. The main character, Darby Stansfield and the fact that it's a wickedly funny, action-thriller. It's a page turner with plenty of twists.

N.L. Earnshaw: Why did you self publish? 

Ty Hutchinson:When I did the research, it just made sense to be my own boss and go the indie way. Plus I've spent the last twenty years in advertising. I've gotten use to making things whether they be print ads, web films, commercials or radio spots. To me a book is just another medium. It felt natural to do it myself.

N.L. Earnshaw: What is your writing process? 

Ty Hutchinson: I usually have the basic story thought out. I basically know what Darby's overall goal is going to be. Then I just let it flow. I've tried both outlining and vomiting out the story. Each has their merit. I still haven't decided which of the two I prefer. Maybe a little of both.

N.L. Earnshaw: How long does it take you to write your first draft? 

Ty Hutchinson: The last one took me about a month. I'm getting faster with each one.

N.L. Earnshaw: What inspired you to write this particular story? 

Ty Hutchinson: It was an idea I had floating around in my head. In the ad world we're constantly thinking up ideas. Most of them are not right for the job. This was one of them. I liked it very much though and I didn't want it wither away. So I turned it into a book.


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The Gift of Illusion: A Thriller by Richard Brown

Kindle Price:
$0.99
Available from:
Amazon US Kindle
Amazon US Paperback
Smashwords
Author's websites:
www.richardbrownbooks.com

Something wicked has returned to Elmwood, and it longs to continue the study it began over a century ago. It's looking for volunteers, but few seem worthy of the gift. Isaac Winters might be the one. He's a detective with a damaged past, and something to prove.
Still haunted by his wife's murder sixteen years earlier, Isaac has thought more and more about turning in his badge. Over the years, he's seen the worst mankind has to offer. Until now. A strange fire has consumed the life of a young girl. But she won't be the last. There are no witnesses and no evidence except a small stone figurine, a gateway to the past. Accompanied by a partner with questionable experience, Isaac must discover and defeat this faceless villain before it takes from him the greatest reminder of his dead wife.....their daughter.

Excerpt

As he stepped past the stairs, his eyes still focused on the broken window, Isaac heard a slight click sound come from the left of him. He knew the sound. It was the sound of a hammer being cocked back, a cylinder rotating.

He twisted to his left and pointed the 9mm into the dark crawl space behind the stairs. He didn’t move or blink, nor did he breathe. His index finger quivered on the cold, oily trigger of the gun.

What are you waiting for?

Before he could act, a brilliant flash of light robbed his sight, and an enormous wave of pressure (like the force of two storms colliding) pulsated through his body. Falling backward, he heard nothing, not rain, nor thunder, just silence—peaceful and undisturbed.

Upon hitting the floor, a sharp pain clambered up the ladder of Isaac’s spine to his left shoulder. Without thought, he sealed a hand over the broken skin. Seconds later, two large boots walked into his sight, and when he looked up, he saw the .38 caliber revolver pointed at his head. Lying on his back, Isaac could see directly up the silver barrel; it seemed a mile wide and many oceans deep.

Apparently satisfied, the intruder pulled the revolver away and turned toward the staircase. On the stairs, his soppy boots thumped and whined against the wood.

Isaac got to his feet, saw the black pistol lying on the floor a few feet behind him, and staggered over to pick it up. Then he walked to the staircase, leaned on the handrail, and applied more pressure to his left shoulder. At the top of the stairs, the dark intruder looked both directions down the hall, and then turned right.

He’s heading for my bedroom, for Linda!

Isaac hobbled up the stairs, gripping the wooden handrail. From above, he could hear banging on the bedroom door and his wife desperately crying out.

Isaac! Isaac! Help!

Hearing her scream only made him try harder to push his bleeding body up the stairs.

About Richard Brown

Aside from writing, Richard enjoys spending time with his daughter, girlfriend, three dogs, watching mixed martial arts, singing karaoke, debating politics, and dressing up for crazy photo shoots. He's often told that he has a dry or sarcastic sense of humor, and that he has a body like a Greek God. The first one is probably not true.

Interview with  Richard Brown

N.L. Earnshaw: What will readers like about your book? 

Richard Brown: The Gift of Illusion is a fast-paced thriller that grabs the reader form the first page and never lets up. I think people will be able to develop an emotional connection with the characters and their struggles.

N.L. Earnshaw: Why did you self publish? 

Richard Brown: Why not? It gives me full control over my work and a higher share of the profit. 

N.L. Earnshaw: How long does it take you to write your first draft? 

Richard Brown: It took me two years to write the first draft, though I took quite a bit of time off in the middle. Admittedly, the first draft wasn't very good. It was over 100,000 words and full of unnecessary fat. I've since trimmed it down to under 70,000 words and it looks and feels much better now.






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Seven Days From Sunday by M.H. Sargent.

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In this fast paced thriller, Iraq’s top terrorist makes two promises – a kidnapped American contractor will be executed on a given date, his body dumped in Baghdad’s Green Zone and a major attack will occur in seven days. 

Working desperately to find the American and thwart the impending attack is an elite 4-man CIA team which includes an attractive female doctor. But they can only watch helplessly as the terrorist and his masked henchmen behead the American during a live video feed carried on the Internet. 

What they don’t know is that one of the masked men is not a terrorist, but completely innocent. He is an Iraqi pharmacist who has infiltrated the group. His only objective – to find his missing fiancée, who the terrorist has also kidnapped. 

After the beheading, he is free to go. But little does he know that his girlfriend will bring the American head to the Green Zone, and inside the dead man’s mouth is evidence linking him to the terrorist. 

With the clock ticking, the CIA team knows that their only chance to stop the terrorist rests with the pharmacist and his beautiful fiancée. But can they really be trusted?

About M.H. Sargent

I graduated from UCLA with a BA in English with one goal in mind - writing.  After stints at several small newspapers in Southern California and free-lancing for various magazines, I wrote several screenplays, which seems to be a prerequisite for writers living in the Los Angeles area. Several were sold, although none produced. However, that provided me with an income and allowed me to keep writing.

In 2005 I wrote Seven Days From Sunday – the first book in what later became a series featuring the same small, elite CIA team. After getting absolutely nowhere with agents, I took the self-publishing route with Amazon. My fictional CIA series, available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, now includes Seven Days From Sunday, The Shot To Die For, Operation Spider Web and The Yemen Connection.

Excerpt 

CIA Station Somewhere in Kuwait – Wednesday, April 12^th, 7:41p.m.

“I’m sure he was a DUCK,” Gonz said as they made their way through the different corridors. Dr. McKay couldn’t help but peek into the various offices as they passed by. She saw people working on computers, talking on phones, and several talking amicably at a small table in the modest cafeteria. This could be any work place in America, McKay thought. She had been surprised when the Gulfstream V had landed on a runway that seemed to her to be placed in the middle of nowhere – the middle of an uninhabited desert. There were no structures to be seen anywhere. The plane had taxied for some time, then stopped. When the door opened, a Humvee sat nearby waiting for them.

The Humvee had driven a few miles along a sandy track before coming to a gleaming white single-story structure with darkly tinted windows. With no roads leading to it, only the sandy track, it looked as if it had been picked up from a commercial tract in a U.S. suburb and plunked down in the middle of the desert. While she had been surprised that they hadn’t landed in Kuwait City or even Hawalli, she wasn’t surprised that the CIA had a secret base in Kuwait. After all, the Kuwaitis were still thankful to the U.S. for their intervention in the first Gulf War.

“Walks like a DUCK, smells like a DUCK, it probably is a DUCK,” Gonz said with a grimace. “But we need to know.”

McKay nodded. “DUCK” was the acronym for “Dead Upon Kidnapping.” Since the term was pronounced like the mallard, everyone was soon spelling it that way too. It simply meant that a civilian was as good as dead as soon as he or she was kidnapped. This was almost always the case if the civilian was an American. A few European and Japanese civilians had been kidnapped in Iraq, but they were usually quickly ransomed for big money. Those few lucky souls were referred to as “KFC,” not a reference to Kentucky Fried Chicken, but “Kidnapped For Cash.”

“I still don’t get it,” McKay said. “Why act like she doesn’t speak a word of English until she’s here?”

Gonz gave her a quick smile. “That’s another thing to find out. But the fact that she speaks English isn’t all that surprising. Many young adults in Iraq speak English now – even the women.” He stopped and opened a heavy steal door, motioning for her to go first. McKay stepped into yet another corridor, this one poorly lit and quite narrow. “All the way to the end,” Gonz told her. As her eyes adjusted to dim surroundings she saw another door at the end of the hallway. Once again, Gonz opened it for her, as if they were on a date and he was opening the door of a restaurant.

They now entered a small viewing room with two rows of stadium-style theater seats facing a large glass wall. Beyond the glass McKay saw the Iraqi woman facing them as she sat stiffly in a chair, her hands, still locked in handcuffs, resting on a table in front of her. From a shelf under the glass window, which McKay knew was a two-way mirror, Gonz handed her a very small plastic earpiece. “Go with the flow. If I want you to head it in another direction, I’ll say so,” Gonz explained. “The volume is very low. She won’t overhear anything.” She watched as he placed an external ear piece with boom microphone over his own ear. McKay then placed the device in her right ear.

Interview with M.H. Sargent

N.L.Earnshaw: What will readers like about your book? 

M.H. Sargent: It gives a glimpse into what life is like for a typical Iraqi family living in a war zone while showing how difficult it is for U.S.  intelligence officers to gather credible information.

N.L.Earnshaw: What is your writing process? 

M.H. Sargent: I usually work best early in the morning. I like to write for about five hours each day. The rest of the time is taken up with marketing my books.

N.L.Earnshaw: How long does it take you to write your first draft? 

M.H. Sargent: About eight months. Then I review it carefully, tweak it and then it goes to my editor.

N.L.Earnshaw: What inspired you to write this particular story? 

M.H. Sargent: When the U.S. went into Iraq I kept wondering what the people in that country were thinking. Were they hopeful? Fearful? I came to realize the most important thing to any of us is our family and that is true no matter where you live. So I wrote a story about a family that inadvertently becomes the target of the CIA.

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The Cemetery Vote by Steve Silkin

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Sex, drugs and election fraud: Jace Kingman, a drug dealer, is recruited to round up Latino day laborers and take them to the polls on Election Day. Dan Vienna, a fired police officer on the road to become an internet porn producer, tries to extort a million dollars from a losing candidate for U.S. Senate by claiming he can prove the election was stolen. Jace and Dan will cross paths as both schemes go awry. Can they save themselves? Or will they destroy each other?

G'Day L.A. by Tony McFadden

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Aussie Ellie Bourke came to LA a year ago to advance her acting career. She had no idea she’d have to solve a murder to find that success. When Ellie finds her room mate dead of an apparent suicide she’s ready to pack it in and head back to Australia. Until she hears something that leads her to believe he was killed. Can Ellie convince the police that her best friend’s death wasn’t suicide? Or accidental? Can she stay alive herself, now that the killer knows what Ellie knows? And can she find a career in a city that cares more for what’s on the outside than on the inside?

Red Skhye In Morning by Sara Thacker

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Will evil win, or can the world be saved by an FBI agent, a bored CEO and a movie star?


Red Skhye in Morning is a serial book delivered each morning to your Kindle. Delanie Skhye is a movie star desperate for some paparazzi free time. She’s found the perfect place to relax until a storm brings Samuel Taylor to her island. Samuel Taylor is a dissatisfied CEO on break from his work. He takes to the open ocean to find his dream life and get rid of his personal demons. Finding Delanie alone on a private island is more than he ever hoped for, but something is wrong. He can feel it sneaking up behind him like a tiger stalking its prey.

A killer is on the loose, preying on blonds. When he finds Delanie he wants her, but Sam is in the way. The killer targets both Delanie and Sam and they have to fight to be free of the threat.

William Sterling Rowland the Third became an FBI agent to make a difference in this life. When his aunt was murdered he vowed to not sit on the sidelines and only throw money at problems. His favorite singer goes missing, driving him to go out on his own to find the island killer. All hell breaks loose when a hurricane develops, putting everyone in danger.

The Judas Syndrome by Michael Poeltl

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Voted Best Writer/Author for 2010 by View Magazine:
A weekly alternative newspaper reaching over 1 million potential voters/viewers.

In a world devastated by an apocalyptic event, 

the bonds of friendship are tested in the haze of 

unrelenting depression, and paranoia.

Will you know who your friends are?

Zombified (Episode 2: Yankee Heights) by Matt Di Spirito

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Welcome to Yankee Heights.

Matty is on the way to Colonial University when the first harrowing
events in a night of terror unfold. He can't even enjoy the carnal
pleasures of a frat party without the undead showing up. Zombies swarm
into the upscale city, overrunning the dormitories, university campus,
and suburban sprawl. Matty is determined to survive.

TICK TOCK RUN by H.C.Elliston

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It’s Saturday night. Chelsea Denham should be enjoying your best friend’s hen evening. Instead, she’s wondering why Lee, the handsome stranger hovering behind her in the bar, is questioning people about some rather creepy phrases. Phrases from an email she opened earlier, which she’s trying her hardest to ignore. The email contains her full name, a countdown timer that’s already ticking, and the words, ‘Your number’s up! People have to pay for what they’ve done.’ The more Chelsea learns the more worried she becomes. And rightly so. Lee’s brother received an identical email, and when its timer ran to zero... he died.