#Excerpt from BIRTH OF AN ASSASSIN by @Stone_Rik #Suspense #Crime #Thriller

Adrik waited in the guard’s room a couple of corridors along from Kornfeld’s cell. There was only one way out, so the Jew had to pass this room. He spun a Makarov on his finger, aimed at imaginary targets and thrilled at the thought of using it. The gun was standard issue, but he would’ve chosen it anyway. Totally reliable, pull the trigger and out pop the bullets. The blowback design expels the spent case to the right and loads the next cartridge into the chamber – easy. And fully armed with eight rounds, he would use them all.

This wouldn’t be his first killing and sure as hell wouldn’t be his last. Kornfeld was a pain, and it was Otto who mattered. He would do anything for him. Why should he care about some Jew who got in the way?

But time dragged, and Kornfeld hadn’t yet made a show. For one horrible minute he thought there might be another way out – but no, that isn’t even possible. Calm down, be patient… Try as he might, he couldn’t, and the idea ran around his head, irritating him beyond measure.

He left the guardroom and paced the corridor outside. At first a short distance and then a bit further into the next passageway. No good – he had to find out what had happened. With gun in hand and footsteps stealthy he reached the cell door – it was slightly open. Oh shit, did that mean there was another way out? Or maybe Kornfeld had gone deeper into the prison block. Or maybe he was in the cell hoping the element of surprise would be with him.

Possibilities ganged up. Kornfeld knew Lubyanka well. What if there was another way out and that little bastard knew it? If so, Otto would kill him, never mind the Jew. He kicked the door fully open, slammed it against the cell wall, stood back and then moved in, pointing the gun around to make sure Kornfeld wasn’t hidden on either side of the opening. The cell was dimly lit and he found it difficult to see. He would stay put until his eyes got accustomed to the light. A body, he saw a body. It was covered with a greatcoat, on the bunk facing the wall.

He was clearly supposed to think it was Kornfeld. In that case he’d be under the bunk waiting… But then that’s obvious too, so he might be on top with the guard pushed underneath. That made more sense – it would be easier for him to make an attack from on top – but, shit, wouldn’t that be what he wanted him to think?

To be sure of the kill, Adrik wanted to shoot above and below – but he couldn’t. How would he explain the soldier’s death? Oh, Otto, if only Otto was there to tell him what to do. But he wasn’t, he had to make up his own mind. The Jew was on top – yes, definitely on top.

Cautiously, he edged forward, pointed the pistol to the back of the person’s head and pulled the body towards him with gun steady and ready to fire. As quickly as his huge form allowed, he pulled the greatcoat away.

Fuck! The guard! No time to react. A leg came from under the bunk with incredible speed and wrapped around the back of his. At the same time, the Jew’s other foot came against his knees and pushed. Adrik had brought his legs together when he tore the coat away and Kornfeld used the imbalance to his advantage. Adrik’s arms went out. He hovered awkwardly, then almost regained control, but Kornfeld pushed harder and Adrik went flying backwards with his legs in the air. A sense of suspension ended and he fell heavily, striking the hard stone floor. His head bounced, shudders chased through his brain and he found himself staring at the ceiling, wavering between conscious and unconscious.

The pain pierced his skull and he noticed his head had rested in a pool of warm liquid. He hadn’t seen that when he came in. Numbness consumed his body; he couldn’t move. But then his blurred vision saw the bleary outline of the Jew. Awareness came that his body was being rolled over. He was paralyzed, but it didn’t stop the surge of fear that ran through every fibre of his being.

Set against the backdrop of Soviet, post-war Russia, Birth of an Assassin follows the transformation of Jez Kornfeld from wide-eyed recruit to avenging outlaw. Amidst a murky underworld of flesh-trafficking, prostitution and institutionalized corruption, the elite Jewish soldier is thrown into a world where nothing is what it seems, nobody can be trusted, and everything can be violently torn from him.

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Genre - Thriller, Crime, Suspense

Rating – R

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Website http://rik-stone.simdif.com

A.F. Ebbers on "Life is Not a Rose Garden" #AmReading #Mystery #Suspense

How do you write – lap top, pen, paper, in bed, at a desk?

Lap top on a desk.

How much sleep do you need to be your best?

Six to seven hours.

Is there anyone you’d like to acknowledge and thank for their support?

My wife, she is a retired college English professor and librarian, my daughter who is a former High school English teacher and now is an attorney and a tennis friend who is a retired editor and helped to edit my hardback novel.

When you are not writing, how do you like to relax?

Tennis, playing the piano, attending plays and musicals, reading.

How often do you write? And when do you write?

When I’m doing a novel I write every day, sometimes usually into the wee hours of the morning.

What do you hope people will take away from your writing? How will your words make them feel?

That life is not a rose garden. But staying honest and being true to yourself may be hard but it’ usually pays off in the end.

What’s your favorite meal?

Bacon and eggs and Texas toast.

What movie do you love to watch?

“North by Northwest” and “7 Days of the Condor”.

What’s your next project?

Another screenplay.

How do you feel about self-publishing?

It has its’ advantages. Publishers cannot change your title, content, etc. And you keep the all the profits. But promoting the book is hard. And if a hardback book is a failure, you take the loss.

Airline Captain Frank Braden is being stalked by unknown assailants who must arrange his death to look like a suicide or an accident before a specific deadline. He receives an unsigned message warning him against attending a Senate hearing in Washington. If he agrees, he will receive a million dollars and his wife's life.

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Genre - Mystery, Suspense, Thriller

Rating - G

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Website afebbers.com

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A Day in the Life of Belinda Vasquez Garcia @MagicProse #BlogTour #Romance #Suspense

It’s midnight. I wish there was time to be more social, but I’ve just finished up the 2^nd draft of the final book of my Land of Enchantment trilogy. There are two blog tours coming up, and a book festival 2400 miles away, all within a two month period. I have a short piece of fiction to edit, which I plan to publish in the next 3 weeks. And there’s a new novel that needs editing, which I hope to publish in 7 weeks.

After seven hours sleep, I walk the dog so my husband can sleep late. I feed my cat, Shakespeare, and then take 10 minutes for breakfast.

I drive to my Zumba class. I’m shaking my hips, moving my feet, loving the music, feeling relaxed and BAM! My brain decides to start writing one of three other books I’m hoping to do this year. My characters speak, or scream, or narration spills out of my head. They’re sentences, paragraphs, plot, or characters that will vanish forever if not put on paper. So, I leave the exercise line and look for paper in my purse. I walk out to the YMCA lobby, grab an exercise schedule and scribble on the back the gold my mind has just mined. I grab a few extra sheets, just in case. I run back to class.

I get home and throw the piece of new writing on top of a pile of others. I shower, and I’m back at it on the computer.

I stop for a 15 minute lunch during which time I watch Netflix streaming or Reign, which I’ve taped, or I watch The Bates Motel, or Once Upon a Time on Demand.

I clean up my dishes and make any pressing phone calls that can’t wait until evening.

I go back to the computer and write again, or damn myself for surfing the web and wasting time.

I go to dinner with my husband. Quick, I grab a napkin and scribble. We drive home and the new piece of writing on the napkin goes in the pile.

I get on the computer and do any personal stuff, like pay bills.

I start writing again.

I’ve promised myself that I’ll watch a movie at 8:00 or 9:00. I tell myself to only do non-writing book stuff, such as marketing, on Tuesdays, but some things can’t wait until Tuesday, such as that audio book and Best Historical Fiction award that came out four months ago which I’ve been meaning to email people about or post on Facebook. I manage an email to another group of mine and check it off my list.

I draft an email about my Books into Movies Award I received ten months ago for the first book of my trilogy, and about the Best Fantasy Finalist award I got for the second book three months ago. I hit the save button. I’m waiting a couple of weeks until the last book of my trilogy comes out to make all announcements together.

For the umpteenth time, I tell myself that I should faithfully post to my blog every week.

It is 10:00 now. I still haven’t gotten off the computer to watch that movie. I’m lost in my new novel, and that’s really the best place to be.

The last thing Miranda ever expected was to see her brother's ghost at the fallen Twin Towers.

It's bad enough survivor Christopher Michaels scares her with claims that if one dies violently, his ghost will haunt the place that holds his name. And to top it all, one of those thousands of ghosts follows Miranda to her hotel. The only certainty is the ghost grabbing her under the covers is not Jake.

Their parents' deaths separated Miranda from Jake when they were kids. Michaels insists Jake brought them together and it's no coincidence that of thousands mourning at Ground Zero, it's his best friend she bumps into. Some best friend. Michaels is more like a moocher. The cheapskate never has money, just a blood-stained wallet he broods over. Miranda has no choice but to hang out with the weird Michaels in order to unravel her brother's past.

As Miranda spends time with Michaels, she begins to wonder who he really is. Against her better judgment, Miranda becomes emotionally entangled with Michaels, a bitter alcoholic with a secret linked to her brother and that blood-stained wallet.

I Will Always Love You is part mystery, suspense and romance, a novel that will keep the reader turning the pages!

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Genre – Suspense, Mystery, Romance

Rating – PG

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Connect with Belinda Vasquez Garcia on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://belindavasquezgarcia.com/

Lazar's Target (Jack Lazar Series) by Kevin Sterling @ksterlingwriter #BlogTour #AmReading #TBR

Sergei Mikhailova faded into the shadows of the dockside building and lit a cigarette as he waited for the courier with the critical package. He flipped closed the Zippo lighter he had stolen from an American tourist, took a long draw off the rich Marlboro Red and exhaled through his nose, the rising smoke sifting through the light above him. Without his cherished cigarettes and regular shots of vodka, he didn’t know how he would cope with his arduous and demanding job.

It was dead silent out there except for the occasional ship blowing its fog horn in the distance, and because of the late hour, there wasn’t another person in sight. The air was bitterly cold, so the intermittent breeze carrying the ocean’s salty humidity stung his face like sharp needles, and his ears felt like they might fall off. The area also reeked of dead fish, which made his stomach turn, but the strong tobacco was starting to help.

As he waited and smoked, he noticed the huge piles of dirty snow up and down the dock, which had no doubt been plowed in layers from one storm after another. The sight of it made the place seem all that more frigid and revolting.

One thing was for sure. He didn’t want to wait there any longer than absolutely necessary.

Sergei checked his watch. It was ten minutes after midnight, which meant the courier was late or, God forbid, not coming. The thought of the latter possibility turned his stomach again, and he quickly took another drag off his precious smoke.

The item he awaited was essential in paving the way for Alexei Chernikova’s master plan, and Sergei knew the man trusted no one else to ensure its safe delivery to their office in St. Petersburg. It was such a crucial component, in fact, that even the slightest hitch in tonight’s plan made Sergei anxious.

Failure was not an option, and suffering it at the hands of another was totally unacceptable. So, with every minute that passed, Sergei became more and more enraged, and the likelihood of this delinquent courier leaving the docks alive grew less and less.

Finally, the white compact car he was told to expect approached in the distance, and it slowly weaved through containers, barrels and snow piles until it stopped at the far edge of the next warehouse building. It sat there for a moment before backing up, hesitating, and finally turning right.

What is this idiot doing?

Anger swelled inside him as he watched the car disappear behind the structure. And for several minutes thereafter, all he could see were lights dancing this way and that as the driver apparently searched for the drop-off point. The package was so close Sergei could almost taste it, but this buffoon was playing keep away with the damned thing like a sadistic teenager.

Sergei had certainly killed people for less.

He lit another cigarette and continued to wait as the cold started to seep into his bones. His fingers grew stiff, and his feet were so numb he could hardly feel them. And all of it was because of this asinine courier.

Finally, the car rounded the near corner of the building as if the driver had circled the structure’s entire perimeter. But now he was back on track, continuing along the dock.

Sergei was relieved until he saw the vehicle stop again.

Now what?

The interior light came on, and the car sat there for several minutes as if the driver was reacquainting himself with the directions.

Imbecile!

Sergei drew on his cigarette and continued to steam. He fantasized about wrapping his hands around the driver’s neck and feeling the pleasure of snapping it in his grasp. Just the fantasy of doing it made him shiver with satisfaction. Or maybe it was just the goddamn cold.

The car continued ahead, albeit at a snail’s pace, but it eventually pulled up to the designated drop-off point, twenty minutes late.

Not fucking acceptable.

Sergei was tempted to approach the vehicle, snatch the package from the driver, and shoot him in the head. But that simply would not do. Instead, he stepped into the light to reveal his presence, worked the stiffness out of his neck, and waited for the man to emerge from the car. The courier would come to him, not the other way around.

The driver’s door opened, and the man stepped out. He was a small, skinny guy wearing a black overcoat, and he held a small parcel, about the size of a cereal box. He made eye contact and brought it over.

“What took you so fucking long?” Sergei growled as he dropped the cigarette butt to the concrete and crushed it with his shoe.

“Sorry. I had a lot of trouble finding the place. All these warehouse buildings look the same, and I didn’t see any addresses.”

Neither did I, but I still made it here on time.

Sergei took the package and slipped it into his empty attaché case, which sat on the crate next to him. He flipped the latches closed and glared at the little man, fantasizing about how he would best enjoy killing him.

“Where is my payment?” the courier asked.

“Payment?” Sergei belted out a throaty, foul laugh and coughed through it. “Here it is.” He reached inside his coat, pulled the trusty knife from the sheath at his belt and let fury drive him. He swiped the blade and slashed the man’s carotid artery before the bastard even knew what was coming.

The driver clasped his hands around his throat and dropped to his knees as blood seeped through his fingers. Then he fell to his side, coughing and gurgling as Sergei watched over the scene with pleasure.

It was tempting after that to stab the son of a bitch like crazy and work out his frustrations, but it was hardly necessary. Besides, he was having so much fun watching the idiot gasp, flounder and die on the ground beneath him.

The feeling of sheer power was exhilarating.

Satisfied that the courier was finally dead, Sergei dragged him back to his car, opened the door and worked him into in the driver’s seat. He belted him in, turned the key to start the ignition and rolled down the window before closing the door. Then he reached inside, shifted the car into gear and used the steering wheel to direct it off the side of the dock.

He heard the heavy splash as he walked to the edge and watched the vehicle slowly bob and sink into the ocean, thankful that the dock lights were so bright. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to see everything, and could there possibly be a more splendid sight?

The rear end of the car made a sucking sound as it finally disappeared beneath the surface, and the deed was done.

There were no words to describe Sergei’s satisfaction. He finally had the package in his custody, and the bastard who had no respect for the importance of the exchange had been handily eliminated. He had completed the most important step toward Alexei’s glorious new era. And who knew…maybe there would be a place for him in the annals of history.

"James Bond Meets Fifty Shades of Grey"

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

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

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

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

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

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Genre – Action, Mystery, Suspense

Rating – R

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