"Murderer. It's one kick in the belly of a word isn't it? Has a taste, too. It tastes like barbed wire and has wild hyena eyes. Murderer. Murder-her. Did he? Did I? That's when I remember what I want to forget."Jake Upshore has loved Skye Derucci since before he can remember. Volatile, complex and frustrated (he's got a label disorder from all the labels he's been given) at the best of times, Jake's on a desperate quest to find Skye before she aborts the baby he believes is his. As he hurtles headlong toward certain tragedy, Jake relives the fatal choices he's made and the powerful forces that have led him to this to end. A gripping thriller and a heart-wrenching love story, Pluto's Ghost is a raw and powerful novel about anger, escape, and redemptive love.From the Trade Paperback edition. Views: 35
Hilda the Witch worries about a challenge, set forth to her by a powerful sorcerer. Help comes from a very unexpected side... Views: 35
Wearing a Santa suit can change one man's perspective-and his love life. Views: 35
"I'll be seeing you again."The attacker's words still ring in Deputy Megan Peters's ears. Her attempt to trap the serial rapist terrorizing Lost Falls failed, but she has succeeded in becoming the target of his attention. Undaunted, Megan moves forward in her investigation, and Scott Anders, the only newcomer in town, draws her suspicion. Is his gentleness just an act? Yet as Megan and Scott grow closer, she finds herself questioning her instincts. What will she believe--her heart or the evidence that seems to be mounting against Scott? Views: 35
Once the star of his high school basketball team, Nathan Gayle has played the field for years. Now in his twenties, he's getting tired of one night stands and heated hook-ups with strangers; he wants something more. Was that asking too much?Wes Roberts has had a fierce crush on Nathan since high school. A chance encounter at prom created a memory Wes still cherishes, one perfect moment in time. His current relationship with Roger pales in comparison, but he's been with the man for eight months now and they've settled into a routine that's not exactly comfortable.When Wes and Nathan meet up again years later at a friend's party, the spark between them is rekindled. But there's Roger, who wrestles with anger and drinking problems. Roger, whom Wes is still dating. Though the choice between the two men seems obvious, breaking up with Roger may be easier said than done. Views: 35
The new ‘Maggy Thorsen’ caffeine cozy - * * Maggy Thorsen's heart, uncharacteristically, is swelling with optimism. Sure, her original Wisconsin coffeehouse, Uncommon Grounds, was destroyed in a freak blizzard. But, with new business partner Sarah Kingston, she’s found the perfect place to relocate to – a quaint railroad station that will soon be revitalized by a new commuter-rail connection. Sarah and Maggy hope that the station’s ‘Dedication Day’ will provide great free publicity. But their dream turns into a nightmare when the event manager makes her grand appearance on the day. As a corpse . . . Views: 35
Meet The Pan of Hamgee: coward, unwilling adventurer and, by some miracle, K’Barth’s longest surviving outlaw. He just wants a quiet life so working as getaway driver is probably a bad career move. Then he falls in love at first sight with a woman he hasn't even met who comes from an alternative reality. That’s when things really begin to get complicated.Meet Ruth Cochrane: she’s the Chosen One, destined to play a pivotal role in saving K’Barth from a cruel dictator. She’s never heard of K’Barth, though. She’s a public relations executive from London and she’s totally unaware of the chaos about to hit her life.Meet Lord Vernon: power hungry psychopath on the brink of world domination. He wants to cement his hold on K'Barth by kidnapping the Chosen One and forcing her to marry him. Only one person is standing in his way: someone who doesn’t even realise it, The Pan of Hamgee. For The Pan, and Ruth, that’s a deadly problem.Written in British English with some light swearing: Suggested cinema rating, PGRunner up in 2011 Wishing Shelf AwardsAwarded Awesome Indies Seal of ApprovalAwarded IndiePENdents seal of approval.INTERVIEW WITH THE AUTHORQ – So, tell us about the K'Barthan series. What makes it special?A – K’Barth hasn’t always been called ‘K’Barth’ but it’s been with me since I can remember. My brain has always been off with the fairies and I suppose it was only a matter of time before I began to write about where it went. Once I started, the response to the characters, from readers really kept me going. The Pan of Hamgee is a very reluctant hero; someone who is aware of the risks he is taking and human – ie scared – about being brave. A lot of teenage boys like him and he has as many fans among the girls, and their mums. In Ruth I wanted to create someone pragmatic, sensible and grounded. She’s not going to lose a shoe and fall over, so the hero has to go back and help her, and they both get caught by the monster. She’s a strong female protagonist who is a bit more of a hero than The Pan, frankly – to start with at any rate. I think he catches her up as the story unfolds.Q – Should the K’Barthan Series be read in order?A – The character development – and some of the technology – will make the most sense if it is. That said, the short story prequel can be read any time.Q – What will readers enjoy most about The K'Barthan Series?A – Hopefully the laughs, the romance – where it appears – the fast pace and the action – especially the flying car chases – and I hope they will like its deeper side.Q – Do you have a target reader?A – Officially, young adults and teenagers. Now that it’s complete the series is certainly proving popular with teens and young adults and I had my teenage nephew in mind when I wrote them. However, I firmly believe that all the best books for teenagers appeal equally to their parents, which is why I also wrote it for me. Thus far – if the people who contact me are anything to go by – it appeals to a certain type of person across the board. The oldest fan of the series I know of is in his 90s and the youngest is 10. Views: 35
The Texas Frontier provides for riveting adventure and inspiring characters as this historical fiction series draws readers into the struggle for freedom. Views: 35
Margaret Rose is a talented but nervous violinist given to bouts of stage fright and unrequited love; Webster Hale is a biologist who, on principle, refuses to kill animals in order to study them. In Angels Go Naked, a novel told in stories, Cornelia Nixon, a writer whose gift is apparent on every page, follows this vexed love story and the collision course they call their life together.Their connection is never in doubt, though Webster is appalled by the urban underbelly of Chicago, which Margy calls home. He refuses to have children because the earth is overrun with humans, and Margy feels compelled to expiate an early abortion by having a live child. Webster’s gloomy view of global disaster threatens to triumph in the final story, as their close friend Calvin is dying of AIDS beside a moribund Lake Michigan. Meanwhile, the one child Webster has agreed to conceive appears destined for stillbirth because Margy herself was poisoned as a fetus by misguided... Views: 35
Perri O’Shaughnessy “will keep you turning pages into the night,” applauds USA Today, in praise of the celebrated novels of suspense starring the audacious yet all-too-human defense attorney Nina Reilly. Now, in a spellbinding new thriller, O’Shaughnessy plunges Nina back into the center of a murderous family game, and reawakens a very real nightmare she had every reason to believe was dead . . . and buried. A mix of slick and seamy, South Lake Tahoe, California, is the perfect setting for adventurers, criminals—and lawyers. In addition to coping with her demanding, sometimes creepy, clients, Nina Reilly is dealing with prickly personal issues involving her sixteen-year-old son Bob, his estranged father, and her investigator, confidante, and sometimes lover Paul van Wagoner. Then, in walks disaster. The millionaire owner of a Tahoe ski resort, Philip Strong is the father of Jim Strong, a sociopath who devastated many innocent lives, including Nina’s. Two years earlier, she had to defend Jim against charges of murder. He shattered her life, then vanished. Paul van Wagoner made sure of it. Now in negotiations to sell his ski resort, Philip has received a letter purportedly from his fugitive son in extradition-free Brazil, demanding his share of the profits. Philip is convinced it’s authentic. Nina’s certain it’s a con, but to prove that means exposing the secrets of someone very close to her. Then two local women are brutally murdered. Nina begins to question their links to her new client, and the truth about Jim Strong’s sudden disappearance. As Nina’s worst fears flood back, with time running out, she’s about to discover that the dreams of the dead can still destroy the living. With its breakneck pace, pulsing human drama, and serpentine twists, Dreams of the Dead establishes once again why Perri O’Shaughnessy has been hailed as “a master of the legal thriller” (Vincent Bugliosi).About the AuthorPerri O'Shaughnessy is the pen name for two sisters, Pamela and Mary O'Shaughnessy. Together they have written twelve Nina Reilly legal thrillers, a stand-alone thriller, KEEPER OF THE KEYS, and one short story collection, SINISTER SHORTS. Pamela, a graduate of Harvard Law School, practiced law in Monterey, San Pablo, and South Lake Tahoe, California, for sixteen years. She lives in northern California. Mary worked as a multimedia editor for many years. She lives with her husband and children near San Francisco. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. CHAPTER 1 Sandy Whitefeather walked into the inner office, closed the door, and sat down in one of the orange client chairs, wearing her usual expression of firm dignity. On the phone with a probation officer who was preparing a sentencing report for one of her criminal defense clients, Nina raised her eyebrows, but Sandy’s expression did not alter. The secretary and lone staffer in the Law Offices of Nina Reilly, Sandy ordinarily stood at Nina’s desk, so either she was tired or some cataclysm was afoot. Since at 8:00 a.m. Sandy usually was well into her fourth cup of coffee, she probably wasn’t tired. She had been hard at work when Nina arrived, and Nina had meant to ask her what was bringing her into the office so early these days, and why she would close out the file on her computer whenever Nina came near. Outside, the weather had turned cloudy, the thick white clouds that meant they would have snow. This was the tumultuous season, as the mountains left winter and moved into spring. “Sorry, gotta go. Call you back later,” Nina told the officer, and hung up. “So?” “Scumbags have been sitting in these chairs for four years now,” Sandy observed. She wore a belt with small silver conchas and tan leather cowboy boots under a long skirt. A member of the Washoe tribe, Sandy had lately gone country-western in her dress, and the appearance of a snorting stallion in the parking lot one night would not surprise Nina. “They do the job.” Nina got up, spun one, and tried not to notice the ugly brown stain not exactly adorning its back. When had that got there? “We need new chairs. Comfortable. Leather so they clean easier.” “That’s low on the list.” Nina indicated the stack of files and phone messages stacked neatly on her desk. “Today, we work on generating cash, not spending it. As I recall, you told me Friday that we are low on the accounts receivable front, no surprise, considering that nobody in town has a dime to litigate these days.” “Fine, if you like cooties.” “So hire a steam cleaner. Do we need to have this conversation right now? Is that why you came in? I’m working.” “I saw brown leather chairs at Jay’s Furniture over in Reno this weekend. Four hundred apiece, but your clients can rest their heads and they won’t have to put their arms on this cold chrome.” “No money for extras now.” “How about if you could make five thousand bucks in ten minutes?” Nina waited, but Sandy sat, arms crossed. Unable to stand it any longer, Nina asked, “New client?” “Someone we know awaits outside.” “Who?” “Philip Strong.” “Strong?” Nina felt a nasty stirring in her gut. For two years, she had tried to put that name out of her mind. “Jim Strong’s father.” “No.” “Yes.” “That’s over.” “You’d think.” “What did Philip say?” “He’ll pay a big retainer for a problem he has.” Nina covered her eyes with her hand. “You look peaked. Maybe you ought to see a healer. I know one up at Woodfords everyone says—” “Philip Strong’s waiting in our outer office?” “Marched right in five minutes ago. I was busy writing something important, but he didn’t mind interrupting. Says it’s urgent.” Nina heard herself, voice higher-pitched than usual. “I don’t want to.” “You may not want to, but you oughta. Listen. You have an appointment with Burglar Boy in twenty minutes. Just hear Philip out and I’ll scoot him away when you’re done.” “Send him upstairs to John Dominguez.” Sandy shook her head. “Claims he needs to consult with you. Only you.” “Why is he here?” “No details, but I’m thinking it’s about his ski resort.” Paradise Ski Resort. Nina pictured the lodge up the mountain behind town, the enormous stone fireplace, handsome people pulling off their rigid boots, downing hot toddies, beers, and champagne, singing loudly, throwing arms around each other before eventually venturing out into the night, heading for their rented condos or a long night of gambling. Straddling the border between Nevada and California, a neighbor to Heavenly Ski Resort, Paradise was a hidden gem. The lifts cost less, the lodge had delicious food, and the runs rivaled world-class Heavenly in their variety. Those really in the know, though, remembered that two years earlier the resort had seen a serious family tragedy, one Nina didn’t care to remember. “I don’t know why, but the phrase deep pockets popped up in my mind the minute I saw him,” Sandy continued. “You should fit him in.” Nina leaned back in her chair. The sharp sunlight of Lake Tahoe in March lanced through the window. Only a few miles to the east in Nevada, across the Sierra massif, in the high desert, the sun reigned most of the year. Outside in the well-plowed street of the mountain town, old Hummers and other full-size trucks and SUVs tankered by as though the price of gas had never been close to five bucks a gallon, the vehicles spattered brown with slush. Nina made her palm into a stop sign. “I never want to hear Jim Strong’s name again.” Sandy nodded. “Neither does Philip, I’m thinking. Look, he’s one of the few people left in this town with money.” Sandy scratched at the metal arms of the chair, then leaned forward to see the result of her handiwork. “But what strikes me is that you need to know what’s going on here even if we don’t accept him as a client.” “Why?” “’Cuz if it’s about his son, it affects you. You’ll get lassoed into his stuff sideways if you’re not careful. At least find out why he came.” Sandy had the strongest fingernails of any human on the planet, it appeared. They continued scratching on the chair arm in one tiny place. The chrome began to disappear as though she were using a tiny Brillo pad. “Direct him upstairs.” At the door, Sandy turned once more to Nina, her eyebrow cocked into a final question mark. “Tell him I’m sorry,” Nina said. The door closed, and Nina went to the tiny mirror by the door, examining the blowy hair, the darkness under the eyes, the brown eyes that now appeared almost amber, translucent in the reflection from the light behind her. No one had ever hated her, hurt her, or scared her as Philip Strong’s son had. Nina would never recover from the blows, never. Knowing Jim would never come back helped her to sleep at night. She walked a few more steps to the corner of the big window, where she liked to look out over her personal shimmering sliver of Lake Tahoe. In the outer office, voices competed for airspace, Sandy’s mostly prevailing. Nina recalled Philip Strong as a quiet man, and Sandy seldom raised her voice, so why all the shouting? A crash made her rush to open her office door and take a look. Sandy, feet stuck to the floor, sturdy as a tripod, gripped the back of Strong’s parka like a bouncer. Sure of her hold, she shoved him implacably toward the door. Strong grabbed the jambs, preventing her from propelling him out, yelling, “I need to see her!” “Sandy?” Sandy paused and looked back at Nina, eyes her usual cold coal black. “Told him you had other plans for him. Upstairs.” “I’m not leaving!” Philip cried. “This is important, damn it!” Sandy’s grip tightened. Nina, recalling some old business between Philip and Sandy’s mother, something vague, something that probably made Sandy nuts, said, “It’s okay, Sandy.” Sandy held tight. Was that a hank of hair stretching between the fingers of her left hand? Philip yelped again. “Really?” Sandy asked after a few moments of Philip’s twisting left and right, bubbling with anger but unable to free himself from her hold. “Yes,” Nina said. Sandy let go. Philip, caught off guard, nearly fell to the floor, tried to regain his balance, and set a hard hand against the wall to steady himself. He pulled a hand through his thinning hair as if to recapture his lost dignity. Sandy adjusted her belt and brushed off her skirt. Then they both looked at Nina. “I found a minute,” she said. “Thank you.” Strong righted himself and said, “Sorry, Sandy.” “Hnf.” Sandy went to her desk and plopped down to a ringing phone. While she answered it and Philip Strong tucked his shirt back into his pants, Nina took a good look at him. He had aged. Thick, dark hair that once curled around the bottom half of his skull had diminished to wispy white strands since she last saw him. He had lost weight in two years. He must be in his sixties by now. Even so, he maintained an attitude of physical health, wearing a red parka and jeans that accentuated stringy, once athletic legs. He stared back at her as if he’d forgotten what she looked like. He looks haunted, she thought. “Come in,” she said, holding the door. Almost as the door clicked shut, he was saying, “I have news, Nina. It’s killing my family. It might kill you, too. But you need to know.” She tensed. A threat, not even two minutes into the conversation. She had been right to want him upstairs, not here, in her face, frightening her. “Jim’s alive. My son’s alive.” © 2011 Mary O’Shaughnessy and Pamela o’Shaughnessy Views: 35
