New book means new book trailer! Allan does the narration. Enjoy.
Okay, so a friend told me he was really excited about the sample and then disappointed to see it was just from the first book, which he’d already read. So for those eager to find out about book 2, here’s a snippet:
Sing Sing was at a pretty nice location on the Hudson River, 30 miles up from New York City. The cells inside were tiny– I had been there before on a couple of occasions as a cop– but the buildings were made of white local stone and the long rows of small windows made the complex look charming from a distance. There was a nearby train station. All in all, if it weren’t famous for its prison, you could think you were passing a resort. And that gave me an idea.
I drove to Ossining alone, parking my car blocks away and strolling along the streets until I was starting to pass the outer wall. I looked curiously at it, as if I’d never seen the place before. I stuck my hands in my pockets, backing out into the street to take in the massive barrier properly. I pulled my hands back out, empty, and pulled my hat off so the brim didn’t block my view as I gaped up at the guard tower. “Hey, buddy!” I called out cheerfully to the guard. “Is this Sing Sing?”
“Yeah. What do you want here?”
“We don’t have anything like this back in Montana. Do you guys have tours?”
“Well, can I come in?”
That did it.
“Sure you can come in here. We’d be absolutely delighted. You want to know how to get in here? You break the law, get arrested, and get sent up the river like all the other inmates!” He sneered the first part and yelled the rest, while I grinned at him with genuine pleasure. The nice thing about New Yorkers is it’s pretty easy to tip them over into sarcasm… and magic doesn’t care if you’re being sarcastic or not.
Whether it’s a pull quote, the preview feature on Amazon, or sites where you can read up to 20% of the book for free (I enabled the highest setting, because I have confidence people will want to find out what happens next), sharing is caring and I was delighted to see a reader share a bit of dialogue that caught her fancy via a Kindle feature. Go ahead and look. Maybe share something you liked, too.
I also will be sharing samples now and then that don’t spoil the stories. Humor in my books is one of the thing I really pride myself on and I as shocked to notice my posts so far haven’t been very specific about that. The characters both are deliberately witty, with sparkling banter or biting wit when it fits, and sometimes… well, there may be moments where Raf seems more like Buster Keaton than David Niven. Frankly, I think it makes him easy to relate to.
SNEAK PEEK SUNDAY:
With the book coming out this coming Saturday (June 1st), here’s another tantalizing peek at what you can expect from “Forever’s Too Long”:
“Very well.” She shrugged. “You are not making this easy on yourself. Seize him!” I expected to be rushed by the acolytes I’d seen, but four newcomers had joined them. I mentioned the gardeners looked pretty dirty. These four looked worse. I thought one looked like his face had a gangrenous patch. Smelled like it, too. Another was a woman, but although she was young, her eyes were filmed over with cataracts and her skin was waxen as well as pale. She held a bag in her hands. Newcomer three was also female, and her fingers had lost the flesh covering the tips, revealing bone. The final one didn’t fit the pattern of most of the acolytes. He had a beard, was an older man, and wore regular but ragged clothes. He was bloated and had a pattern of dark veins on his nose.
Of course, this takes longer to describe than I took to notice them and quickly decide the way out wasn’t through the crowd. There was a side door on the left, and I took a side leap, pivoted, ran a couple of steps, and then dropped to the wooden floor in a slide to dodge Gangrene’s attempted tackle. I rose to my feet at the door and spun at the sound of footsteps to kick Vagrant in the gut hard enough to knock him on his tailbone. Fingertips had gotten tripped by one of the dopey acolytes. I couldn’t see Cataracts, though. I turned the door handle, hoping I wasn’t going into a dead end or worse, a closet.
The back of my neck prickled, like someone was watching me who I couldn’t see, which was weird, because I was still facing the center of the room. I yanked the door open as hard and fast as I could, and heard a thud above me. Cataracts fell to the floor. She’d been lurking over the doorway, somehow. No time to ponder, I spun and ran. There was a hallway with a little stairwell to the left. Upstairs might be good for fighting, but not for flight. Forward would take me back toward the courtyard, closer to the main entrance but also a place to encounter more weirdos. The right door would possibly be an alternate path to the kitchen area, which should be connected to a back way for tradesmen to bring deliveries. You repurpose a flop hotel for a cult, you still have a hotel layout.
Available for pre-order at:
Also there will be signed trade paperback copies available upon request. Simply leave a comment in the section below, or e-mail me at: