For those that celebrate Christmas, have a very merry one. If you celebrate of of the other holidays this season, please, enjoy the season.

I have a couple of things going on… the deal is still running on my paperback books from Amazon. They are all $8.99 until the end of the year. Normally they are $12.99, but they are marked down for the holidays. Amazon doesn’t let me run a sale the same way I can on Kindle books, but it is still a discount!

Sometime in early January I plan on running a free promotion for Planning Vengeance. It is normally $2.99, but I will have it for free for five days in January. I haven’t secured the dates yet… as soon as I do, I will post it here.

Also in early January I plan on releasing my next book. The only issues left are the title and the cover. The working title has been New Life, but I don’t like it… the book is way more exciting that that. There are kidnappings, car chases and romance… The current leader is Second Chances.

You can always find all of my current titles on my Amazon Author page. You can find my short stories on my Vocal Media profile. And of course, this blog is your best bet to see what I am up to. I have unpublished excerpts, published excerpts and all sorts of other cool content. And, if you subscribe you can get a FREE ebook.

Yeah, I know… it’s December 22nd. Most of you have completed your shopping, and even if you haven’t, you won’t be able to get these under the tree in time. But, that won’t stop me.

I have dropped the prices of all of my print books from $12.99 to $8.99 until the end of the year. As I write this, six of my eight books are available in print (Print on Demand) but I will try to get the covers reformatted for the other two so that all eight books will be on sale at once. I have previously dropped a couple of the print editions to $9.99, but never $8.99.

Of course, the Kindle editions are all still $2.99, and all of them are available on Kindle Unlimited, as well. If you aren’t familiar with Kindle Unlimited, it is kid of like Netflix for books. You pay a monthly subscription fee and you can read any enrolled book for no additional fee. As an author, I am paid per page read, so it isn’t a bad deal for me, either.

Sometime soon after the new year, I will be bumping the price back up for the print books. But in the meantime, you can grab a deal. That is about 30% off the regular price.

Planning Vengrance

Dig Two Graves

You Don’t Know Jack

Who, What, When, Why?

Grafton

Unknown Caller

Triple Cross

Lies and Omissions

An Amazon ad for one of my books was murdered yesterday. Someone complained, so Amazon suspended the ad. The language of the ad suspension, though, cuts much deeper than just the ad. Here it is:

Your ad contains book/s or content that is not allowed. Content that revolves around controversial or highly debated social topics is not permitted. Please remove this content from your ad.

The ad in question, as well as the others for the book, contain the words “Deep State : Deep Fakes : Deep Cover” It is a spy story, and the hero is framed for a political assassination with “deep fake” videos. Those responsible are embedded inside the government… hence “deep state”.

But, it’s fiction.

Apparently, though, we are reaching a level of censorship where it doesn’t matter. Someone is offended by an ad for a work of fiction. The ad itself isn’t a deep fake, nor does it glorify sex or violence. It says that a character was framed for a political assassination.

Frankly, I don’t know if it was an algorithm that changed its mind about the ad (it’s been running since April) or if someone complained. I don’t think it matters. The ad is one that isn’t served often… it was viewed twice yesterday, before it was banned by Amazon. What matters is that we have reached the point where the free expression of ideas is SO scary that it can be taken away that easily.

Keep in mind… this is a work of fiction. There are MILLIONS of books with plots involving political intrigue, murder, spies and other conflicts. In fact, any book worthy of reading involves conflict. Nobody wants to read about people sitting on their couch while nothing happens. Conflict is essential for a good plot.

If the ad can so easily be banned, how long before the book is banned… how long before the idea is banned? How soon will we be on the road to only being allowed stories that complement the narrative?

Maybe you should grab your copy before Amazon determines it is too dangerous… Triple Cross.

Escape is a FREE ebook currently available on the blog for subscribers. If you you subscribe, the system will send you a link to download the book as a pdf or a mobi (the mobi can be easily loaded to your Kindle app or device… instructions here). There is a link on the side you can use to subscribe. Don’t worry about getting overwhelmed with emails from the subscription. There is a weekly email that is sent out on Saturday mornings around 10am. I also might send out an announcement from time to time announcing deals for subscribers, but that has only been a few times in the last year.

“Look, Von, you HAVE GOT to get control of yourself.  I can’t keep cleaning up your messes.  I might be the Sheriff, but I can’t fix everything.”

“I’m sorry, Deke.  Sometimes I just can’t stop myself.  She was so pretty, and she didn’t have anyone anymore… I wanted her.  I’ll get rid of her and I promise not to do it again, ok?”

Deke looked at his brother.  Von was ten years older, but because of a head injury from the Army, he was like a giant six-year-old with hormone and impulse control issues.  Their parents were gone, and their mother’s final words to Deke were to make him promise to take care of his brother and keep him out of trouble.  Of course, she reminded him that the injury that made him like he was, was all Deke’s fault.  He never understood her rationale for that, but regardless, Von was his responsibility.

That’s what he had done for the last fifteen years, taken care of him, and kept him out of trouble… no matter the cost.  He kept a roof over his head, even though it wasn’t much, and made sure he had food.  And, like he was getting ready to do now, he took care of his messes.  This was the third girl in the last year.  There had been several others since his mom died, and he was pretty sure there had been several more before that.

“You head up to the shed, I’ll be along in a while,” Deke said, pulling out his radio to respond to a call from Betsy in dispatch.  “Von, sounds like I gotta go deal with something.  I’ll be back as soon as I can, ok?” he shouted after his brother.

“Ok, Deke.  I’ll have everything ready,” he shouted back. 

Von turned and headed to his trailer to get a couple of tools and a tarp.  A few minutes later, with everything he needed, he trundled back toward the shed.  He whistled as he made the short walk.  He figured he would have time to ask her if she’d changed her mind and fallen in love with him again before he “fixed her up” for his brother.  That made him happy.  He didn’t mind fixing her up, but he would have preferred to not have to do that.

He opened the door to the shed and saw that the light was off.  As he turned to flip the switch, juggling the stuff in his arms, he was thrown off balance by the door hitting him in the back.  Before he could react, he felt something slam into his head. 

The girl jumped down from the counter, letting go of the claw hammer, which had stuck in her torturer’s head.  As she landed on the floor, she collapsed in a heap from the weakness in her limbs.  When she had hit him, he just crumbled to the floor.  She struggled to her feet and looked back at him as she stepped through the door and saw the claw of the hammer had embedded itself into his head all the way to the handle.  She jumped back toward him and ripped the knife off his belt.  Blood was pooling up on the rough concrete floor around him. 

She hobbled into the woods as fast as she could.  She was completely naked, and her feet were raw from stepping on branches and rocks before she was even out of sight of the shabby little shack and trailer.  The morning chill wasn’t yet gone, and she tried to wrap her thin arms around her naked body to hold in the little heat she had.

As she stumbled along, she heard an engine.  She looked up and saw a Sheriff’s car running along the road.  She dropped to the ground and watched as it drove out of sight around a bend in the road.  She was quite sure she’d heard the Sheriff talking with the man who had taken her.  She couldn’t risk him finding her… not if they were talking about “getting rid of her,” she thought.    

If you like this excerpt, get the ebook for free… ad also check out my Amazon Author page for my other novels. If you want to jump headlong into the Dixon-Prince world, it all starts with my first book, Planning Vengeance. Triple Cross and Lies & Omissions just tiptoe around the Dixon-Prince characters.

This is a clip from the next book I’ll have out, shortly after the first of the year. I’m still working on the final title and then the cover art. This particular scene is after Deke’s wife’s funeral, when he figures out that the strife is not over. He makes a decision as to how to proceed.

Owen and Taki bookended Deke and Jimmy as they walked back to one of the armored, black Excursions that the company owned.  Dutch and three other guards climbed into an identical truck ahead of them.  The two vehicles pulled out of the cemetery and turned toward the cabin.  From where they were, it would be about an hour’s drive. 

Deke put his arm around his son’s shoulder and pulled him closer.  At five years old, he understood what death meant, but the finality was only now sinking in.  As he realized that his mother would never hug him again, that he wouldn’t be able to show her his latest drawing or have her tuck him into bed with a kiss on the forehead, tears started to fall from his eyes in earnest.  Even with the few words he’d been able to utter to his father, or that Taki had told his father he’d uttered to her, the older man knew exactly what he was feeling. 

“Jimmy, you know I talk to Mommy every night.  I know that she isn’t there… but I still talk to her.  You can, too,” Deke said. 

“Can she hear you?”

“I think she can, son.  I think she’s in heaven watching over us.  I know that more than anything she would want to watch you grow up… and if she can’t do it here, heaven for her would mean watching you from there.”

“Ok.  I’ll try that.  I have her picture in my room… I’ll talk to her picture.  It won’t be the same, but you’re probably right… she probably can listen to us.  I just wish she could talk back,” Jimmy said. 

“Me, too, buddy.  Me, too.”

The Excursion made the turn onto Ridgeback Road.  As much as everyone hated it, there was no way to drive to the cabin without driving past the spot Helena had died.  They would have gone somewhere else, but father and son both felt closer to her at the cabin.  It was the place she loved to be more than any other. 

The other Excursion exploded in a fireball in front of them, lifting off the ground and landing on its side.  Owen slammed on the brakes.  He smacked the shifter into reverse as the big diesel engine revved.  The rear tires spun as the axle hopped, looking for traction.  There was a Suburban behind them, and as they backed toward them, it turned to block the road. 

“Hold on, I have to ram it.  They’re blocking us in,” Owen said.  His voice carried force, but he didn’t yell the words. 

Taki pulled her handgun from her shoulder holster as she looked through the windows around the big SUV, looking for other threats. 

Their Excursion bashed into the back half of the Suburban, spinning it in the road and pushing it up on its side as bullets ricocheted off their truck.  Owen spun the wheel to the left, causing them to spin around.  He slammed the SUV into drive and stomped on the gas.  The rear glass spiderwebbed from larger caliber rounds hitting it. 

A box truck slid to a stop barely in front of them, pushing them off the side of the road.  Owen did his best to point the truck straight downhill to keep it from rolling.  They bashed through scrub and bounced over rocks as they sped down the steep incline. 

Just before they hit the lower section of road, the Excursion hit a large rock on the passenger side, forcing the truck up on its driver’s side as it hit the road. 

“Nine-one-one, what’s the nature of your emergency?” played over the truck’s speakers as Owen made the call. 

“We’re on Ridgeback Road, between the third and fourth switchback.  We’re being shot at,” he yelled, grimacing.  Blood was trickling down the side of his head, and there was a splatter of it on the inside of the window next to him where his head had stuck. 

“We have to get out of here,” Deke said. 

“This thing is a tank.  We should stay put,” Owen replied. 

“Like Dutch’s truck?  We’re getting out,” Deke repeated. 

“Mr. Swanson is right.  We need to get out and get away before they show up,” Taki said. 

She popped her seatbelt and fell on top of Owen with a grunt.  Deke undid his seatbelt and then Jimmy’s, as he held the boy in place.  Jimmy looked around, in shock, not understanding what was happening. 

Deke maneuvered past the back seat into the back of the SUV, with Jimmy following.  Taki crawled back to where they were and opened a compartment in the back.  There was a pair of rifles clamped in the hidden stash.  She pulled a release and the back door unlatched so she could open it.  She handed Deke her pistol and stepped out the back, rifle in hand. 

Owen came up behind them.  He grabbed the other rifle and squeezed around them to get out of the truck.  He wanted to be sure the area was secure before he let Jimmy and Deke out into the open. 

A round pinged off the tailgate from the road a hundred feet above. 

“Break for the downhill side on my mark.  That should be closer to the police when they come, and any pursuit coming from up the road will have trouble getting past here,” Owen said.  “When I say go, you three go.  Ok?”

“What about you?” Deke asked. 

“I’ll be right behind you.”

Owen stepped around the back of the truck and put his sights on the black Mercedes that had just come around the switchback a hundred yards away.  He unloaded a thirty-round magazine as Taki led Jimmy and Deke over the edge of the road.  He grabbed another magazine and snapped it into the rifle.  He stepped around the truck and emptied that one at the car as well.  Steam poured from the unprotected radiator. 

Swapping mags again, and grabbing a spare, he readied himself to make his sprint toward the far side of the road.  Using the truck as cover he started his run.  He built up his momentum and exploded out from behind the truck, jumping off the side of the road as rounds slammed into the ground behind him and into the trees above him. 

He landed and tried to tuck and roll, but failed miserably, landing on one leg and then smacking into a tree.  The rifle flew out of his hands, bouncing away down the hill as he dropped to the ground at the base of the tree, unable to move. 

“I’m going back up for Owen,” Taki said.  “Take Jimmy down the hill.  From the sound of the sirens, they should be here any moment.  I’ll cover you from up here.  Go,” she said. 

Deke took Jimmy’s hand and took off down the hill.  When they got to the road, they could hear gunshots from above, and there were no police vehicles in sight. 

“We need to keep moving.  Are you ok, Jimmy?”

“I’m scared, Daddy.  Is it going to be ok?” 

“It will be.  I promise.”  It wasn’t a promise just to Jimmy.  It was a promise to himself.  He realized he barely knew his own son… or his wife.  His work had consumed him and was within inches of killing him as it had killed Helena.

The two slid and bumped down another hundred feet.  As they reached the road, there was a loud explosion as a fireball rose from where the Excursion was.  Deke’s phone rang.  He looked at it for a moment.  Raul’s name popped up on the screen. 

“It’s done,” Raul said before Deke uttered a word.  “I’ll give you details when you come in, but it was bigger than I had even expected.  I also planted some emails to make a few of them think it was them trying to clean each other out.”

“Ok.  Good,” Deke said, hanging up the phone. 

He looked down at his son.  There was a look of grim determination on the face of the five-year-old.  His face was dirty from sliding down the hills, with cleaner streaks where the tears had run. 

“You want to go somewhere far away?” Deke asked the child. 

“Where Mommy is?”

“No… not there.  Just somewhere that isn’t here.  Just you and me.”

“Yeah.  I don’t like here right now.” 

Deke nodded.  “Me, either.”

He pulled his phone back out and made a call.  As he talked, they started walking down the next steep hill.  A police car streaked past behind them, not seeing them down the hill off the side of the road. 

Thirty minutes later the two emerged in a backyard in the valley.  They walked around to the front of the house and turned to walk up the sidewalk.  It was several blocks out to a main street. 

Deke flagged down a cab and asked the driver to take them to the airport.  The driver looked at him suspiciously.  “You got cash, bucko?””

Deke reached into his pocket and peeled off a fifty-dollar bill.  “This cover it?”

“Sure, climb in.  You ain’t done nothin’ illegal, have ya?” the cabbie asked. 

“No.  Just having a crap day,” Deke responded. 

“The worst,” Jimmy added. 

Fifteen minutes later they pulled up in front of the passenger terminal. 

“We need to go to the General Aviation side… where the private planes are.”

“That where you keep your private jet?” the driver said, laughing. 

“I have a whole fleet of them,” Deke said, jokingly. 

He dropped them at the curb and drove away. 

“Deke?” a man said, stepping from the office.

“Hopefully only for a little longer, Jack.  We need to disappear.”

“Glad I hadn’t left yet.  Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and we can go.”  The three of them headed inside.  Jack showed Deke and Jimmy to the maintenance employees locker room so that they could get cleaned up, while he tried to rustle up some new clothes for them.  As soon as they were ready, he led them onto the business jet and told the pilot to head for home. 

As Jimmy fell asleep in his seat, his head resting on his father’s lap, Jack asked Deke what had happened.  The two men spent the five hours of the flight talking about the day’s events. 

“I need to know if Jill Takanata and Owen Rogers are ok.  Can you find out?” Deke asked just before the plane landed. 

“Yeah.  I’ll go through channels and find out for you.  We’re already working on temporary new identities for you, too.”

If you enjoyed this, keep an eye on my Amazon Author page. There are also some other fun books available there as well.

Since this will be the next book out, I thought I would toss out another excerpt. They seem fairly popular on the blog. In the first scene, Stacy and Jim are approached by a reporter because of Stacy’s popularity at the auctions… and in the second, one of their customers lets her drive a car she designed but hadn’t been able to drive.

“Miss King,” the man said, walking quickly toward her through the hotel lobby, “can I get a moment with you?  My name is Luther Simonsen.  I’m with Motor News TV.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Simonsen?” she replied, pulling Jim back to her side with her hand in his. 

“Please, call me Luther.  We would love to profile you and your shop on MNTV.  Your car was a hit, but beyond that, the clip of you telling the little girl she could be a car designer is going viral.”

“Well, Luther, the shop belongs to both my fiancé and I… it isn’t my shop.  If you’d like to profile us and our shop, we welcome that.  But I wouldn’t want to impart a false story,” she said firmly. 

“I understand, Miss King.  We certainly don’t wish to cut… your fiancé… out.  Just women owned businesses in this industry are rare.  That is a very powerful angle.”

She led him to the seating area in the lobby and motioned for all of them to sit down.  “Luther, please call me Stacy.  My fiancé is Jim Cook.  I don’t know if you were at the Orlando auction in June, but he sold his debut car there for over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.  A ’69 Lincoln Mark III.  Millie and Buck Williams bought it.  I had nothing to do with that car, and Jim was an absolute unknown.  But, because of that car, Jim pulled in commissions to build more than half a million dollars in custom cars.  And the money from that car and those commissions meant that he had the freedom to let me run wild on this car… which he’d already partially built.

“I understand the angle you are pursuing, and I would love to see more women empowered in this industry.  But to downplay Jim’s role…  I’m sorry, I can’t do that.  I think we could tell a compelling story as it is.”

“Thank you, Stacy.  Perhaps I got the wrong impression.  We still want to do that profile.  You are a hot commodity right now.”

“Luther,” Jim spoke up, “if you think she’s hot now, wait until you see what we have coming out.”

“You know our number, Mr. Simonsen.  Feel free to give us a call next week.  Right now, we have a flight to catch,” Stacy said as she and Jim rose from the sofa they’d been sitting on. 

***

Stacy slipped behind the wheel of the Mercury Marauder.  It was almost sunset, and she could see the heat rising off the road in front of her.  The temperature was hovering around a hundred degrees.  She pushed the start button and the big Merc fired to life with a roar, then steadied into a rumble of barely contained violence. 

“I think I’m actually kind of nervous,” she said, laughing to Gayle, who was sitting next to her. 

“Don’t be.  Jim did a beautiful job on the engine.  It’s as gentle as a pussycat.  I pulled it off the trailer, and it was shockingly easy to drive,” she replied. 

Stacy pushed the shifter into first gear.  She eased off the clutch and rolled forward.  This was the fourth manual transmission vehicle she’d driven, and it was very different than any of the others.  Then she punched her foot to the floor.  The front end of the car threatened to leave the ground before the rear tires broke traction, screaming in protest. 

The car slewed sideways before she lifted from the throttle, steering into the skid and pushed the clutch to the floor.  A grin broke out across her face. 

“Ok, maybe this pussycat is really a lion,” Gayle laughed. 

The cloud of tire smoke wafted past them.  A little more comfortable now, Stacy gave it a second run.  She didn’t push quite as hard, but ran the car up through third gear, hitting almost a hundred miles an hour.  She tagged the brakes, slowed and turned around and drove back past where everyone was waiting.  She slowed and then slipped back into the throttle, accelerating past the cameras at over a hundred. 

“That is pretty awesome,” she said as she stepped out of the car, the camera rolling on her.  “Jim, the powertrain you designed is breathtaking.  And the car really wants to stay planted.”  She turned to Gayle, who’d stepped up next to her, “Thank you so much for letting me drive it, Gayle.” 

“Anytime, Stacy.  And I can’t wait to see what you and Jim build next.  You two are an incomparable team,” she replied.  Gayle knew exactly how to frame the interview.  She and Stacy had talked about the TV people wanting to make it more about her and less about Jim. 

I am three steps from releasing this book. It is getting a final edit, and then I need to come up with a better title, and the cover needs to be designed. So far ,the cover struggle is the hardest one…