Hello, my friends, and welcome to newsletter number 29.
Blood is Power is out, and not a moment too soon! I love writing, don’t get me wrong, but boy, are releases exhausting! Still, I’m enjoying getting back to my normal working routine – editing, reading and reviewing and writing articles for various sites.
You’ll be pleased to know that book one in the series, Blood is Heavier, has received a makeover at the same time, and is available at all outlets.
I won’t write about this every day, because I know how tiresome it can get, but I will post links to my articles, in case you want to know what I’m talking about. Hint: it’ll be to do with publishing or writing. What else?
ARCs are available for review – please let me know if you’re interested in reading and reviewing either one or both books. You’ll get a darned good read and, on top of that, the chance to tell other people what you thought about the book. Go on! You know you want to. Sherry and Laura, thank you both for reviewing. I will post links to your reviews as soon as they’re done.
Oh, yeah, I almost forgot your goodie for today: an excerpt. Let’s see… Can I tempt you?
“Where is Goldberg?”
Bulev shook his head and kept quiet.
Nick checked the gun for bullets and emptied all but three of them. He swung his arm back and lobbed the spares as far as he could. They flew through the air and landed in the scrub.
“I need to know Goldberg’s address,” he said to Bulev.
Bulev smiled and shook his head again, a defiant expression on his face.
Nick pointed the gun at one of Bulev’s kneecaps and fired.
His screams were so loud, Mortimer Hughes shoved his head between his knees. Nick surveyed the gathered crowd, but they didn’t look threatening. Just people doing what people do best: enjoying someone else’s misery.
“Changed your mind yet?” Nick asked Bulev when his screams quietened down.
Bulev’s jaw was clenched tight and his face was red from the effort he was making to deal with the pain.
“I’ll count to three. One…” No reaction. “Two…” Bulev’s face contorted in fear, but he kept his mouth shut. “Three,” Nick said and he lined the gun very, very slowly with Bulev’s other knee.
Bulev turned his head away and closed his eyes. What was so terrible about this Goldberg that a man would rather never walk again than betray his whereabouts? Nick squeezed the trigger and Bulev screamed anew.
Nick pulled out Bulev’s phone and dialled Newton’s number. It went straight to messages. “There’s a link between Goldberg and my father,” he said to the machine. “To do with some organisation he was trying to expose in his youth. Details with a Mortimer Hughes, literary agent. I need Goldberg’s address. He claims to have my son and Maxi. He’d better be wrong! Don’t call me – I’ll call you.”
He weighed the phone in his hand for a moment and then dropped it and stomped on it until the tangle of glass and plastic was unrecognisable. He kicked the pieces to scatter them, then directed his attention to Goldberg’s henchman.
“There’s one bullet left.” He weighed the gun in his hand. “And I imagine, now that the U.K. Police know how involved your boss is in all this…” he made a circle in the air with his hand, “issue… He won’t be all that happy with you, will he?”
He turned the gun in his hand and offered it to Bulev, holding it by the barrel. Bulev stared at him, stunned, unsure of Nick’s offer. Then he grabbed the gun and pointed it at Nick. His left hand was shaking, but he was close enough to score, if he squeezed the trigger.
Nick lifted his brows and stared straight at him. “You know damn well I’m the only one who can take on Dollar.”
Bulev held his aim for another second, then he twisted to point at Mortimer Hughes.
“Kill him. I don’t care,” Nick said, disinterested. “Spineless piece of shit, that one. He could never do the right thing.”
Mortimer Hughes whimpered and tugged on his ropes, trying to get away from the gun. Nick turned around and began to walk away. He was two paces away from the entrance to the cave in which he’d been held when the shot rang out. He looked over his shoulder. Mortimer Hughes was howling, rocking back and forth, and pulling on his cotton-wool hair, his eyes locked onto Bulev’s immobile form.
Tell me what you think – anything! I can take it. Did you enjoy the excerpt? Would you read the book?