Lazar’s Mission by Kevin Sterling @ksterlingwriter

0Excerpt from Chapter Four

It was eleven fifteen, and there was no sign of Melati. She could have been late for a number of reasons, or a complete no-show for that matter, and Jack hoped it was the former. No doubt, fraternizing with the passengers was forbidden, or at least frowned upon. So the question was whether she had been sufficiently lured by Jack’s charm to break the rules. His stomach was in knots from the anticipation of seeing her, and he paced the floor of his suite like a caged animal.

Part of him was over-the-top excited to see her, play with her. But a voice of reason in the depths of his consciousness couldn’t help but speculate whether he was getting himself into trouble again. He just couldn’t see how.

Perhaps Jack was just channeling his Eastern mentor, Tasagi, who had not only been his private jujitsu and karate instructor for several years now, but over time had become a valuable spiritual guide as well. According to Tasagi, Jack was bringing dangerous situations to himself through a process called the Law of Attraction, and it was tied to his internal belief system. That meant Jack consciously believed he had chosen to involve himself with certain people or situations because of their reasonable appearance on the surface, whereas in reality his energy had attracted an underlying issue or conflict, and he didn’t recognize it until it was too late.

The problem was that Tasagi had him questioning everything now, including sweet Balinese girls, and he knew he had finally taken it too far. He knew there was nothing at all wrong with Melati, and he prayed he would soon hear her knock on the door.

In the meantime, he forced himself to stop pacing, and he reclined on the couch with a bottle of water to hydrate himself for what he hoped to be a spirited night.

To get more comfortable, he had changed into a loose-fitting pair of white drawstring linen pants with an aquamarine linen shirt and brown woven leather loafers sans the socks. After all, the ship was traversing the Mediterranean Sea toward the north coast of Africa, so an outfit leaning toward the tropical seemed most fitting.

Also, despite his earlier wine-opening announcement of eleven o’clock, he chose to uncork the bottle of Caymus Special Selection Napa Cab at ten and empty it into a decanter to let it breathe. The wine steward had thoughtfully included a pair of Spiegelau vinovino Cabernet wineglasses, and Jack knew the large, appellation-designed bowls would let the wine open up to its full potential.

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Genre – Action, Mystery, Suspense

Rating – R

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Caroline Kennedy – On Being A Writer @StephenWardBook

On Being A Writer

Being a writer is something I have always known I was going to be. I can’t remember a time in my life that being a writer wasn’t an aspiration. From as young as five years old I was always scribbling stories, always writing long handwritten letters, always imagining the day when I would be a successful author.  I never went through that phase of indecision when adults would ask me, “And what do you want to be when you grow up?”  It’s just something I have always known. It certainly made life simpler. I didn’t have to make difficult decisions when it came to selecting “O” level or “A” level subjects. English, Creative Writing and History (since I was definitely addicted to non-fiction books) were a natural choice for me.

I often dreamt of the day I would see my name next to a number one best-seller. I anticipated the newspaper interviews, the TV appearances and the accolades I would receive. These were definitely the optimistic hopes of a young and eager writer. I knew they were not realistic and I never really believed they would happen. But when they did my reaction to them was surprising. There was no feeling of immense joy, pride or self-satisfaction. When I saw my name attached to the number one best-selling book in May-June 1987, I simply felt a certain calm – yes, I had achieved it…but then, so what? The same when I was invited to go on television to be interviewed about the book, I took it all in my stride but felt no particular sense of pride in myself. It was simply something that had happened in my life and it was back to being a mother again.

Little did I realize that 25 years after the book, “An Affair of State”, was published it would get a new lease on life as “How the English Establishment Framed Stephen Ward” – that Andrew Lloyd-Weber would produce a musical based on my main character. Stephen Ward – and that a leading Human Rights QC would take up Ward’s case, using much of the evidence I provided in the book, to have the conviction against Ward overturned. Now that is what really thrilled me and filled me with pride. If my research helped lead to Ward’s conviction being quashed then that was my greatest achievement – not the number one bestseller!

"How the English Establishment Framed Stephen Ward" is a major expose of a government cover-up that has lasted half a century. It is a powerful story of sexual compulsion, political malice and ultimate betrayal. A number-one bestseller when it came out in 1987 under its original title, "An Affair of State", the book reveals never-before-heard testimony that has been uncovered by the authors in the years since the scandal broke. Using startling new evidence, including Ward’s own unpublished memoirs and hundreds of interviews with many who, conscience-stricken, have now spoken out for the first time, this important account rips through a half-century cover-up in order to show exactly why the government, the police forces, the Judiciary and the security forces decided to frame Stephen Ward. Stephen Ward is now the subject of an upcoming Andrew Lloyd-Weber musical and this book offers a wider perspective on its complex, central character as well as a broader insight into one of the greatest scandals of the past 100 years. As the authors’ research reveals, Ward’s “trial of the century” was caused by an unprecedented corruption of justice and political malice which resulted in an innocent man becoming a scapegoat for those who could not bear to lose power. This is an epic tale of sex, lies, and governmental abuse whose aftermath almost brought down the government and shook the American, British, and Soviet espionage worlds to their core. With its surprising revelations and meticulous research, Ward’s complete story can finally be told.

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Genre – Politics, Espionage, Scandal

Rating – PG-16

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David Litwack – Ideas are everywhere @DavidLitwack

Ideas are everywhere

What do the following have in common? A rustic stone church in Boothbay Harbor, Maine; Mt. Etna; the Temple of Zeus in Agrigento, Sicily; the old merry-go-round in Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard; the Chihuly Glass Museum in Seattle; and the Palantine Chapel in Palermo. (click here to see pictures)

All of these are sources of inspiration for my next novel, the sequel to There Comes a Prophet.

I’ve always believed that the difference between the creative and non-creative person is not the ability to come up with new ideas, but rather being open to them when they present themselves. That’s why it’s so important to write regularly.

When I’m writing every day, I live in two worlds, the evolving world of my story and my real life, day-to-day world. As a result, when I see something that strikes me, my mind starts making connections. The places I visit, the images I see morph into scenes in my story. What would the mood of the setting be like? What are the sounds? The smells? How would my characters see it? Would they touch the ancient stones and flashback to their own past? Would they scoop up a fistful of volcanic soil and, finding it hot, appreciate the immensity and power of their world? In what way would these experiences change them and therefore alter their actions and the course of the plot.

Out comes my smart phone. I take a few pictures, and type some hasty notes. Then, when I get home, I rough out a new scene. Does it always fit in to the story? Of course not. But it gets my creative juices flowing.

When I reread a copy of a soon-to-be-submitted novel for the final time, I always wonder how it all had come to pass. It seems like a mystery, a miracle of the muse. But I know this: if I’m open to new ideas and follow their threads, one thing leads to another. A paragraph gets written, then a page and a scene. And a couple of years later, after much blood, sweat and tears, voila–instant novel.

WINNER: Readers' Favorite Book 2013 Bronze Award Winner, Drama Category -Fiction

A Tragic Warrior Lost in Two Worlds...

The war in Iraq ended for Lieutenant Freddie Williams when an IED explosion left his mind and body shattered. Once he was a skilled gamer and expert in virtual warfare. Now he's a broken warrior, emerging from a medically induced coma to discover he's inhabiting two separate realities. The first is his waking world of pain, family trials, and remorse--and slow rehabilitation through the tender care of Becky, his physical therapist. The second is a dark fantasy realm of quests, demons, and magic that Freddie enters when he sleeps.

In his dreams he is Frederick, Prince of Stormwind, who must make sense of his horrific visions in order to save his embattled kingdom from the monstrous Horde. His only solace awaits him in the royal gardens, where the gentle words of the beautiful gardener, Rebecca, calm the storms in his soul. While in the conscious world, the severely wounded vet faces a strangely similar and equally perilous mission--a journey along a dark road haunted by demons of guilt and memory--and letting patient, loving Becky into his damaged and shuttered heart may be his only way back from Hell.

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Genre – Contemporary Fiction, Fantasy

Rating – PG

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Malpractice! The Novel by William Louis Harvey @sexandlawnovel

In the midst of this process, he heard the water start in the shower but didn’t alter the pace of undressing. When all was in order, he went into the bathroom and opened the shower door. He stood there, immobile except for a growing erection, admiring her beautiful body. Cleo was a few inches shorter than Paul, neither thin nor fat, with a firm body; beautiful, firm breasts with erect nipples; a thin waist; and smooth skin that had a slightly tan color from her one-quarter Hawaiian heritage. Her face remained exotically beautiful after all of its makeup was washed away, with just a hint of Asia in her eyelids, and she had black hair that was stylishly cut short.

Her pubic hair was also black and appeared to be standing guard over the delights below, like the eunuch guarding the sultan’s harem.

Finally, in mock anger, Cleo said, “OK, Boss, either come in or leave, but close the door. You’re getting water all over the floor.”

Paul laughed and complied. They put wet, soapy arms around each other and washed backs while their fronts were in contact. (pp 181-182) Malpractice! the Novel

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Genre – Steamy Courtroom Drama

Rating – R

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Razer 8 series by P.T.Macias @pt_macias

Chapter One

Marsha Diane Bryant looks over at the shiny red sport car. Oh yes, I’m going to get that cute car for my birthday. I’m so lucky that my Daddy spoils me, she thinks. She smiles at her Daddy and at her Mama. She watches him sign the paperwork.

“Marci, dear, you know that this is also a gift for your hard work in school. You’re going to graduate next year. I know that you’ve worked hard to maintain your GPA. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to see that you’re going to be able to qualify to be an intern at the Capitol,” states Rex Bryant.

Chief Commissioner Rex Bryant has always dreamed of seeing one of his girls enter the realm of politics.

Marsha chews her lower lip. Oh, yeah, I did forget about that. I don’t want to enter the world of politics. I don’t want to disappoint Daddy. I know that he’s counting on me since Margaret decided to get married. I don’t know when I’m going to tell Daddy that I want to go into law. It’s almost the same. I can be a judge, she thinks.

“Marci, I’m real proud of you,” says Daddy Rex.

“Thank you, Daddy,” replies Marsha.

“Sir, here are the keys to the car,” says the salesman. He looks over at Marsha with longing. “Ms. Bryant, you’re going to enjoy driving down the coast in your new car.”

“Yes sir, I’m sure I will. Daddy, can I drive Cherry Bomb home?” asks Marsha.

Her lovely blue eyes sparkle with pleasure. Her face is softly flushed with a soft glow of excitement.

Chief Bryant turns to gaze at his lovely daughter. He smiles with pleasure upon seeing her excitement. He raises an eyebrow with amusement. 

“Yes, Marci. You can drive your new car home. Cherry Bomb?” replies Daddy Rex.

He chuckles with amusement. He turns to the sales man and takes the keys from him. “Marci, dear, you drive carefully.”

Marsha jumps up from the chair and excitedly hugs her Daddy. She gives him a huge kiss on his cheek. She then takes the keys from his hands.

“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, Mama. I love you both! I’ll see you at home. I want to stop for a few minutes at Sarah’s to show her my new car!” Marsha turns to give her Mama a quick hug.

“Marsha Diane, you best drive carefully. We’ll see you at home shortly,” says Mama Irene.

“Absolutely, Mama,” replies Marsha, nodding. She walks out of the sales office and out into the dealership showroom.

The salesman is opening the huge glass doors. Marsha walks up to the red sports car. She opens the door and slides in. She smiles and turns on the car.

Marsha turns to look over at her parents with an enormous smile. She waves at them and pulls out of the showroom.

Hell yeah, I’m going to love driving this cute car. I’m such a lucky girl, she thinks. Nodding she turns on the stereo and starts to sing along to her favorite song.

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Genre – Romantic Suspense

Rating – PG 13

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The Angel & The Brown-Eyed Boy – Sandy Nathan @sandyonathan

1

When the girl appeared on the sidewalk, the edges of her body and clothing were fuzzy, as though all of her hadn’t arrived. She looked up and down the street, the way a person would if she’d forgotten an address or lost her way.

Her hair was frizzed and matted, sticking out akimbo. She was thin, had a dirty face, and wore a scratchy coat that was far too big. Its sleeves were rounded little capes; her arms stuck out of them like chopsticks protruding from a napkin. The coat slipped off her shoulders, first to one side, then the other. She hitched it up and kept walking. When she walked, the coat opened to reveal her feet and lower legs.

Her thin socks, trimmed with grayed lace, were pulled up to make a ruffle below her knees. Pink satin laces held up the socks, their Xs snaking up her shins from her shoes. She looked pretty much like everyone she saw, except for her shoes. Long pink ballet slippers stuck out from beneath her coat, as improbable as roses sprouting from the cement.

Eliana made her way along the sidewalk, knowing that she was dirty, feeling the grit in her hair and on her skin. When she had reached the planet’s atmosphere, clothes and all sorts of things had rushed at her with great force, tossing her over and over. Dirt had come, too. She’d found the clothes she needed and put them on the way her teachers had shown her. Then her people had put her where she was.

Humans passed, but no one stopped or said anything to her. A paper blew against her leg. More dirty papers blew and piled up everywhere. Streaked and grimy buildings rose near her. Writing in different colors covered their walls. She looked carefully, but couldn’t make out the words. She’d learned to read and write English, but those words mystified her.

“Hey, you!” a person said loudly.

“Yes?” She spoke to a human for the first time, politely bowing. The human was dirty like Eliana, with torn clothes and matted hair. She couldn’t tell if it was a he or a she.

“Get out of here!” the ragged person shouted. “You don’t belong here.” Eliana cowered, but the stranger rushed past her, clawing at something Eliana couldn’t see. “Stay away,” the human said, and then stood with feet braced, shouting, “Get out of here, all of you. Stay away!” The creature hadn’t seen Eliana at all.

The girl realized that her people were right; they had put her where no one would notice her. Now she needed to tell them that she had arrived. She raised one foot, turning it gracefully and resting it easily on the other knee. She flicked the shoe with her finger, listening. A trill of clear notes deep within her brought the hint of a smile. She held the coat closed and stood still. She was where she was supposed to be. It had begun.

She fingered the piece of paper in her pocket. Her map. Beneath it, in the pocket’s depths, was the notebook. What was written on it would get her where she needed to go. She had all she needed.

She walked a long way along the hard path. More humans passed her. To her left, gray, inert structures rose high in the sky, blocking the sun. She touched the see-through parts of their lower levels, looking at the humans inside. They looked at each other with darting eyes, speaking rapidly. Everyone outside rushed frantically, noticing nothing. They didn’t see her, just as her people had said.

Eliana choked when a very large carrier passed, spewing a foul odor. The carrier floated above the hard surface where the vehicles moved. Her teachers had told her about the floating. Though she couldn’t see it, a force lived under the machines that made them go. It would kill her if it touched her. She didn’t know what kill meant; kill did not exist in her world. Her mother had explained that she would be like a dead pet. She had seen dead pets before they whisked them away. Motionless husks. She moved away quickly. Better get on with her purpose. She didn’t have much time.

A man with a round stomach and a gray hat walked out of an opening in the ground with many others. He walked like he had a mission. His coat was the same scratchy stuff as hers, but it was buttoned up and looked new. He looked new; his face was ruddy and clean. His shoes reflected the pale sunlight. The trill of notes resounded in her mind once again.

He was the one! She stood in front of him to make him stop. She hoped he could comprehend her speech.

“Will you help me?” she said, working to form the strange words.

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Genre – Metaphysical Science Fiction

Rating – R

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#AmReading - A Summer to New Orleans by Barbara Hall @BarbaraHallHQ

A Summer to New Orleans by Barbara Hall

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Nora Braxton's life is falling apart. Her husband has run off with a waitress almost young enough to be his daughter, leaving behind unpaid taxes amounting to thousands of dollars. In addition, her vindictive mother continues to criticize, telling her how to run her life, constantly berating her with shrill choruses of "I-told-you-so's." To make matters worse, Nora's thirteen-year-old son wants to run off to Miami to live with his freethinking, free-spending dad.
So when Simone Gray, Nora's old college friend from the University of Virginia, invites her to New Orleans for a week's vacation, Nora jumps at the chance to get away from it all and get a fresh perspective.
Once in this exotic, almost foreign city, Nora finds that she is not the only friend to be summoned by Simone. Poppy Marchand, another former schoolmate, is there as well. Almost immediately after the initial reunion, Nora and Poppy learn that Simone's invitation is not a purely social visit and that she has much more in mind than a week of fun and relaxation.
Simone, a prominent Los Angeles-based food critic, is a rape victim, and she has asked these old friends to be with her for moral support during the trial of the man she has charged with raping her. A year earlier, while on assignment in New Orleans, Simon was raped after leaving a nightclub. Once model beautiful, she's now shockingly thin, and is, in fact anorexic. Nora, already emotionally at sea and diminished by heartaches, resolves nonetheless to stand by her friend. And Poppy Marchand, a blisteringly plainspoken woman who has recently found religion and left her husband, also vows to be there for Simone, but not without her own bitter reservations.
What follows - before, during and after the trial - is an unraveling of the precepts upon which these three women have built their relationship, each struggling to come to terms with lives that haven't worked out the way any of them planned. Pasts are explored, secrets are shared, and the truth of what really happened to Simone is put into question.
Drawn from the author's own experience, A Summons to New Orleans is a wonderfully written and beautifully crafted novel of three women and their fateful reunion that propels each one to search her past - together their shocking revelations test the true limits of loyalty, friendship, and trust.