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Welcome to the super huge, A Fool’s Circle MEGA giveaway!!! Check out this amazing Domestic Thriller by Suzanne Seddon, and enter to win this fantastic haul!

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Publication Date: March 17th, 2019

Genre: Thriller/ Domestic Thriller/ Suspense

Kate Sanders has suffered many years of physical and mental abuse at the hands of her abusive husband Alan, and convinces herself that she is only holding the family together for the sake of her eight-year-old daughter. If it wasn’t for her best friend Jill Reynolds, she would have taken the suicide option a long time ago.

As she desperately seeks a way to escape, she is contacted by a solicitor. Kate’s old aunt has died and she has been left a small fortune.

For the first time, she sees the light at the end of the tunnel. She dreams of a fresh start, a new home, a new life. What Kate doesn’t know is that Jill and Alan have their own secrets, and are both desperate to get their hands on her money.

Kate soon finds herself falling for the charms of Jonathon Jacobs in what she believes to be fate finally intervening and offering her a second chance, unaware that each move he makes has been directed, orchestrated and well-rehearsed as he begs her to leave her husband Alan.

But is it all too late, as she finds herself in the frame for murder?

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Excerpt

Chapter 1

A blonde head bounced on the floor in time to the yelling. Rays of the early morning sun caught her golden hair, and motes of dust hung in the air. Sophie Saunders was eight years old. Kneeling down on the floor, she played with her dolls, drumming Ken and Barbie against the carpet, her body bent forward, almost as if she were praying in her immaculately clean and pressed school uniform. But today her school uniform was the last thing on her mind. She bashed the dolls’ heads off the pink floor in unison.

‘Ring-a-Ring-a-Rosie,’ she sang aloud to herself as she tried to drown out the voices that rose up through the floorboards.

The noises from downstairs were a regular occurrence, and fast becoming the norm. Sophie felt her dad’s anger, ever-present in his voice as it vibrated through her bedroom, positioned over the kitchen. Scared, she dropped her dolls, raising her arms and clasping her small hands over her ears. Sophie closed her eyes. Blinded, she felt for Barbie and Ken and gripped the toys by the legs. With one in each hand, she remained still for a moment, and as the voices intensified beneath her, she sensed them possessing the dolls.

‘You’re an old bag. I hate you!’ Sophie’s voice was deep and rough, as she rammed Ken’s head into Barbie’s chest.

‘Why are you always so nasty to me?’ She raised the pitch of her voice as she shook the dolls hard.

‘Because you make me want to vomit when I look at your fat ugly face,’ she growled.

‘Please stop being so cruel to me,’ she enunciated.

‘Who do you think you are? Don’t you dare tell me what to do, bitch!’

With each word, she struck Ken against Barbie, again and again, until finally Barbie’s head popped off and rolled across the carpet.

That hadn’t been her intention. She didn’t mean to decapitate the poor doll. Shocked, she stood up as she searched for the missing head. She found it under the bedside cabinet at the back, by the wall. She crouched down, stretched out her arm and grabbed it. Sophie sat up on her knees, struggling to reattach the plastic head to its body.

‘Bloody shit! Why won’t it go on?’ The racket from below grew ever louder. ‘Bloody shit.’ Frustrated, she gave up, and flung the dolls across the room.

Downstairs, her father, Alan, almost lost his head. He shouted louder as his wife, Kate, persisted as the peacemaker.

‘As useless as a one-legged woman in an arse- kicking contest.’

His voice echoed around the large stark white room, drowning out the soothing music from the old radio sitting on the window ledge.

‘You’re one useless bastard!’ The barrage of abuse had just hit average level.

‘Fucking useless.’ The kitchen had seen better days, as had their marriage, but Kate worked hard to keep both spotless and functional.

‘Can you hear me?’ She strived hard at everything, as she had for a lifetime.

‘Hello? Is there anyone home?’ However, her efforts now went unnoticed or drew heavy criticism for no reason.

‘I’m fucking talking to you, whore.’ She knew only too well what was about to come her way, as she moved the blonde strand of hair out of her blue eyes and concentrated. She placed the boiled egg safely into its cup.

‘Where’s this fucking breakfast, for fuck’s sake?’

She reached out her arm, picked up the knife and, clenching it tight in her hand, she decapitated the top of the egg.

‘I can hear you, Alan.’ The toast was the light side of brown, just as he liked it, but who knew these days? ‘There’s no point keeping on at me, shouting. I can’t go any faster.’

She set the breakfast plate before Alan. His face was dark and menacing—the antithesis of the light sense of fun that had been knocked out of her.

‘About fucking time. Talk about slow. You’re like a human fucking sloth.’

After ten years together, she found it more of a challenge to stay positive. Alan had turned negativity into a vocation.

‘What the flying fuck is this?’ She stared at the top of his head, bristling with the military-style haircut he’d had since he was a child, raised by an army commander who gave no quarter.

‘Do you seriously expect me to eat this fucking lot of shite?’ Alan had adopted the same rank in the family, but hadn’t served a moment in the services. ‘All these years, and you still can’t boil a fucking egg? I mean, it’s not fucking rocket science.’ She watched him as he snarled at her. ‘You’ve got to be having some sort of a laugh.’

He pushed the plate away with such force, it shot forward and hit the condiment pots. Kate flinched as the sharp noise pierced her ears. ‘Why, what’s wrong with it now?’ She clenched her fists as her body shook. Her nerves were all on the surface, as he mocked her and revelled in her fear.

‘What’s bloody wrong with it? It’s the wrong colour, undercooked and looks like my fucking snot. You really are a fucking retard!’

She watched as his sneer took what used to be a pleasantly rugged face – a lifetime ago – and warped it monstrously.

‘Well, I can do another for you, if you like. It won’t take me a minute!’

She tried her hardest to stay calm, fearful of what might come next.

‘That’s how long I think you boiled that one for, a fucking minute, so what’s the bloody point? You’ll only mess it up again, you thick tart.’ Kate, petrified, noticed the pure evil as it manifested once again across his face.

‘You’re miles away these days. Maybe you should go see a doctor and get some happy pills from him. For fuck’s sake, you can’t even time an egg.’ Once again defeated, she bit her lip and her voice broke.

‘Well, I did boil it for three minutes.’ She watched his face as it reddened. She knew the inevitable was about to happen, and wished it over and done with.

‘Yeah, yeah. Let’s face it, darling, you’re no good at cooking, no good in bed—in fact, you’re no good at fucking anything really. I bloody dread mealtimes in this house.’

The victorious grin that had taken residence across his smug face frightened her.

‘I try my best, Alan, I really do.’ Kate’s voice sounded weak. Alan fed off her vulnerability as he chipped away at her. He cranked up the volume another notch.

‘You really are a fucking retard. You’re trying to poison me with salmonella.’ Alan stretched out his arm, picking up the boiled egg. Terrified, she eyed him as he gripped it tightly in his hand. ‘Trying to do me in with food poisoning, are you?’

Kate jerked as he lobbed the egg towards her, raising her arm, shielding it from her face as it side-swiped her head. She tried to pick fragments of sticky shell out of her hair.

‘That’s what I think about your boiled eggs. Now go and fucking clean it up!’

She decided the best defence was to stay silent. Terrified, she turned her back on him, and tried to disappear into the background.

‘Don’t turn your back on me, I’m fucking talking to you! You’re one ignorant bitch. Don’t you dare fucking ignore me!’

She closed her eyes tight and gritted her teeth, trying hard to remain calm.

‘I’m not ignoring you. I’m trying to get Sophie’s breakfast ready or she’ll be late for school.’

Her smooth tone stoked his fury more. ‘I don’t even know why I fucking married you. I could’ve done so much better. My parents were right on the money when they said I married down. An army bigwig and a doctor they were, and what are you? A washed-up failed actress, a shit teacher, and a poor excuse for a fucking wife.’

She ignored him as the vile comments became more and more aggressive.

‘I mean, have you taken a fucking good look at yourself lately?’

He rotated his chair towards her. She watched him in terror as he looked her up and down like he’d just stepped in a massive turd.

‘Please don’t, Alan. Please don’t start again today.’

She arranged the plate of food as fast as she could. Jumpy and exasperated, she picked up the tea towel from the draining board and wiped the edges clean, as he continued to mock her.

‘“Please don’t, Alan – please don’t, Alan.” Can you hear yourself, Kate?’

The onslaught continued towards danger point.

‘You’ve really let yourself go over the years. You need to get yourself to the fucking gym and start exercising. I married a woman, not a lard arse. Just look at you!’

She was tall and well-proportioned. If Alan wanted an anorexic model, he was living in cloud cuckoo land – and the wrong neighbourhood.

‘Oh, for crying out loud, Alan.’ Her adrenalin kicked in, and she snapped out of her former resignation. She threw down the tea towel on the worktop. ‘I do exercise, Alan, when I have the time!’

‘Ha! Are you having a fucking bubble? You keep telling yourself that. You’re a silly stupid fat tart. You should take a leaf out of your friend Jill’s book. Now she looks great. Perfect little figure, and a great pair of tits!’

He did nothing to hide the wicked grin that was plastered across his face, or his semi- erection. Watching him, repulsed, she tried logic. ‘Well, Jill hasn’t got any children to worry about, or a husband for that matter, so she has more time on her hands than I bloody well do.’

She continued to busy herself, reaching into the cupboard next to her and removing a plate.

‘Excuses, Kate, always bloody excuses with you! Don’t you know the truth always comes out? Mind you, you wouldn’t know the truth if it jumped up and took a bite-sized chunk out of your big fat fucking arse, you thick bitch.’

Her stomach churned. She didn’t want another fight. Against her better judgement, she apologised. ‘I’m sorry about the egg, Alan, I really am, but do you have to do this now? Sophie will be down for her breakfast any minute.’

She showed him Sophie’s plate. Desperate, she reminded him of their daughter’s existence. Kate was taken aback as she heard the almighty roar that bellowed out of his mouth.

‘Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you can tell me what I can and cannot do in my own house!’

The house belonged to both of them, a wedding gift from his parents, but she wasn’t about to argue the toss about that now.

‘Please, Alan, Sophie will hear you. It’s not fair she has to listen to this day in, day out. Do you not think about what this is doing to her? She’s your daughter, for heaven’s sake.’

She hated the sound of her weak voice. ‘Well, that’s fucking debatable.’ Sickened, Kate watched him as he swayed in his chair like a hypnotised cobra. A dreary Coldplay song rang out on the radio.

‘I don’t give a toss about you or your fucking daughter.’

The saliva flew in all directions across the kitchen, as he continued to spit more venom in her direction.

‘It’s my fucking house, my rules. Anyway, look at you. And what’s that on your face? Is that make-up and lipstick you’re wearing? Where do you think you’re going today with all that crap on your face? You look like a washed- up old whore!’

She was frozen to the spot, and the colour drained fast from her face.

‘It’s just pink lip gloss, for goodness sake. What the hell’s wrong with you?’

His eyes bulged from their sockets like a bullfrog’s, his tongue sharp like a flickering whip, as he leapt from his chair and grabbed her firmly by the hair. ‘Lip gloss, my arse.’ She fought hard to hold on to Sophie’s plate as he ground his thumb into her mouth and smeared the tacky pink gloss across her cheek.

‘Ha! That’s more like it! As if lipstick or lip gloss is going to help you.’

She felt the sting as the palm of his hand connected hard against her cheek. He picked up the dirty tea towel.

‘Please, Alan, stop this.’ He rubbed it hard across her flushed skin. Kate, struggling to breathe, heard the crash as the plate fell to the floor.

‘Look at the tea towel, cunt. It’s fucking make-up. Stop fucking lying to me!’

She could smell the remnants of the stale booze on his breath, which made her heave. ‘I’m not lying.’ She struggled hard to pull away from him, her eyes drawn towards the doorway. She noticed Sophie standing there, her perfect angelic face pale and in shock.

‘Go away!’ Kate mouthed to her terrified daughter.

‘What was that, bitch? Are you talking back to me again?’

She felt the sharp pain hit, as he punched her hard in the stomach. As Kate fell to her knees, she heard Sophie’s voice.

‘Leave my mummy alone!’ Kate looked up at him, and at the same time his expressive dark eyes narrowed. Alan turned around and faced his daughter.

‘Oh, it’s you! Have you seen your mother? Doesn’t she look like a cheap whore? This is what you’ll look like one day if you let yourself turn into a sack of shit like her!’

He hoisted Kate up from the floor by her hair, on to her feet, and slapped her viciously again across her cheek.

She screamed. ‘Get out, Sophie! Get out!’ Kate watched Sophie as she turned around and raced from the kitchen in floods of tears. She pleaded with him:

‘Alan, please stop this! Please!’ She stumbled as he pushed her hard into the side of the Formica worktop. Unsteady on her feet, she reached out with both hands and gripped on to it.

‘You’re lucky I’ve got things to do today and that I don’t have to spend another minute looking at your gormless fucking mug!’

She watched as he grabbed his jacket off the back of the kitchen chair and threw it across his right shoulder.

‘What have I told you about lying, Kate?’ She saw the triumphant expression on his face as he left the kitchen and whistled down the hallway. Kate listened out as he opened the front door, and jumped as she heard his voice again.

‘Make sure you clean up all the mess and scrape all that raw egg off those bloody tiles.’

She closed her eyes for a split second and there came another almighty loud bang as the front door slammed shut behind him. Kate’s whole body trembled with this aftershock.

‘God help me,’ she said to herself. She crawled across the kitchen floor, picked up the newspaper off the chair and gathered the food and shards of broken plate onto it as she chanted to herself.

Amazon US| Amazon GER | Amazon UK | Amazon India

Now the giveaway!!!

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First Prize

A signed copy of A Fool’s Circle

$10 amazon gift card

A Fool’s Circle – fridge magnet

A Fool’s Circle- Keyring

A Fool’s Circle – makeup bag

A Fool’s Circle – 6 pack of red pencils

A Fool’s Circle – Pen

A Fool’s Circle – wooden book mark

3 Note books

1 sequin pencil case

7 piece makeup brush set

Rituals…50ml Zensational foaming shower gel

Rituals…#HOLIAWESOME gift set containing

Playable foaming shower gel 50ml

Crackling body mousee 50ml

1 shower Pom Pom

5 assorted 7th heaven face masks

3 assorted 38g Lindt Lindor chocolate bars

Second Prize

Digital Copies of A Fool’s Circle

Incredible right? AND this giveaway is open to EVERYONE!!!

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About the Author

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Suzanne Seddon was born in 1968 in Islington, London. After leaving school she had many interesting jobs, from swimming teacher to air hostess, and was able to travel the globe. Now a single mum to her teenage daughter Poppy-willow, Suzanne spends her days writing and has written several articles for magazines and newspapers.

Growing up, Suzanne witnessed mental and physical abuse within her own family which strongly influenced her when she wrote her first play, A Fool’s Circle, when she attended the famous Anna Scher Theatre. Suzanne, however, was not content to leave it there and decided to go ahead and transform her play into a novel.

Not one to shy away from exciting challenges, she also wrote, acted, directed, cast and produced a trailer for the book around her hometown in Islington with the support of local businesses, who recognised the drive and importance of Suzanne and her work.

Suzanne is a passionate writer and she is determined to be heard so that the issue of domestic abuse is raised amongst the public’s consciousness, empowering others to speak out. She wants those who suffer at the hands of another to have their voices heard, loud and clear.

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Book Blitz Organized By:

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R&R Book Tours

I would like to thank R&R Book Tours for the opportunity to share this book and Giveaway!!

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24 hours to survive. 24 hours to win.

You could win an advance copy of SALVATION DAY by Kali Wallace, a gripping thriller that takes place in less than 24 hours! But act quickly, because this giveaway is also only 24 hours – and time is running out…

Check out the giveaway Here.

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Salvation Day by Kali Wallace

A lethal virus is awoken on an abandoned spaceship in this incredibly fast-paced, claustrophobic thriller.

They thought the ship would be their salvation.

Zahra knew every detail of the plan. House of Wisdom, a massive exploration vessel, had been abandoned by the government of Earth a decade earlier, when a deadly virus broke out and killed everyone on board in a matter of hours. But now it could belong to her people if they were bold enough to take it. All they needed to do was kidnap Jaswinder Bhattacharya—the sole survivor of the tragedy, and the last person whose genetic signature would allow entry to the spaceship.

But what Zahra and her crew could not know was what waited for them on the ship—a terrifying secret buried by the government. A threat to all of humanity that lay sleeping alongside the orbiting dead.

And then they woke it up.

Amazon     Barnes and Noble     Goodreads

Praise for Salvation Day

“A smart, gripping thriller you just can’t put down. Explosions, betrayals, morally gray choices and twisty secrets; all set in the world that comes after the end of ours. Perfect for fans of Aliens and locked spaceship murder mysteries.” – Kameron Hurley, Hugo Award-winning author of The Light Brigade 

“Kali Wallace, the world needs you–and this book. Salvation Day is a taut thriller, a near-future look at where we’re headed next, a mirror reflecting the best and worst of humanity. It is all that, and so much more. I’d follow the rebellious heroine Zahra anywhere–especially into another nail-biter of a story like this.”–James Rollins, New York Times bestselling author of The Demon Crown

Salvation Day is a masterful story set at a screaming pace. It had me holding on for dear life all the way through. I loved it.”—Mur Lafferty, Hugo Award-winning author of Six Wakes

“Wallace delivers an exciting sf thriller that shines a light on government secrets, shifting blame, and elitism and class in a future society. The tight plot and well-developed characters create an engrossing read” —Library Journal

Kali Wallace

About the Author

Kali Wallace has had a lifelong passion for both science and storytelling, and she earned a PhD in geophysics before becoming an author. Salvation Day is her first novel for adults. She is also the author of two young adult novels, Shallow Graves and The Memory Trees; the children’s fantasy novel City of Islands; and a number of short stories. After spending most of her life in Colorado, she now lives in southern California.

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I would like to thank Penguin Random House for the opportunity to share this giveaway.

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Journey Out of Fat, Dumb, and Ugly by Cherie Esteves

Are you tired of living your life according to the labels that have been slapped onto you? Do you feel you are always pressured to conform to other people’s ideas of who they believe you are? Do you feel destined to live a life of mediocrity and unhappiness, despite the fact that you know you are meant for something bigger?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, then you will easily identify with journey.Journey is a lost and tortured soul on a personal quest to escape the physical, mental and emotional servitude of the unfair labels, invisible barriers, and dire consequences of a lifetime of decisions made out of fear and feelings of inferiority. Journey’s Path to freedom is a dramatic, tear-jerking, yet funny roller-coaster ride that beautifully demonstrates how to:

  • Change the directions of your thoughts and life.

  • Use the power of your pain to discover and serve your life purpose.

  • Eliminate toxic relationships and self-sabotaging behavioral patterns.

You have the power to remove whatever labels have been placed on you. If you know there’s more to you than meets the eye, and you’re determined to break free of a lifetime of painful stereotypes and a mediocre, dissatisfied existence, then this book is our key to opening the door to the exceptional life that you always imagined.

Buy the Book:  Author’s Website


Cheri Esteves

Cherie Esteves was born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, the city she so affectionately calls her first love. There she was deeply rooted and heavily influenced by the rich, diverse crosspollination of the European American culture that makes New Orleans one of the most unique and intriguing cities in the world. Cherie moved to Atlanta, Georgia, in 1989, where she raised her two beautiful children and has continued to live for over twenty years. Her production company’s name, Creole Peach Productions, was born out of her alliance to both cities.

Connect with the author:  Website  ~  Twitter  ~ Facebook

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Giveaway

Win a copy of Journey Out of Fat, Dumb and Ugly and/or a $50 Amazon gift card (Open to USA only) Giveaway ends on Oct 22. Sign up here.

I am glad to be part of this book spotlight courtesy of iRead Book Tours.

 

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For the release of the new Longmire book Dry Bones, I had a giveaway for Any Other Name, book 10.

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I’m proud to announce that we have a winner. Congratulations Terry Williams! I will send you an email getting your information.

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 23281918Dry Bones (Walt Longmire – 11) by Craig Johnson

(Excerpt from Goodreads) When the largest, most complete fossil of a Tyrannosaurus Rex is discovered in Absaroka County, it would appear to have nothing to do with Walt. That is, until the Cheyenne rancher who finds her is found face down in a turtle pond. As a number of parties vie for ownership of the priceless remains, including rancher Danny Lone Elk’s family, the Cheyenne tribe, the Deputy Attorney General, and a cadre of FBI men, Walt must recruit undersheriff Victoria Moretti, Henry Standing Bear, and Dog to investigate a sixty-six million year-old cold case that’s starting to heat up fast.

Review

5 stars

We start the story with the discovery of a mostly complete T-Rex fossil. The problem is who has rights to it. Danny Lone Elk seems to be that person until he ends up dead in a turtle pond and no paperwork to back that claim. Now the town is over run with everyone from the FBI, the Cheyenne tribe, and more are on the fight to get their hands on the fossil. Then it seems like Skip Trost just has to jump in a cause more problems for Walt.

And if that wasn’t enough, Walt has family coming into town and this doesn’t look like it going to be solved by the time they get there. He also has the past chiming in to keep things even more interesting. You just learn a little of Walt’s past and although short it makes you feel for the guy.

I have watched Longmire on TV but not all of the episodes. I have always wanted to read the books and couldn’t pass up this opportunity. All I can say is Wow!!. Now I’m going to have to get the other books in this series. Just like the TV series, I got sucked in at the beginning and couldn’t put the book down. There are lots of twists and turns and I didn’t know who killed Danny Lone Elk.

This is a great series, both TV and print. Make sure to get this book, it’s the 11th in the series and I had no problem figuring out what was going on. Now I’m off to get The Cold Dish.

For more information on this series or to purchase Dry Bones be sure to check out Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Goodreads, and Craig Johnson’s website.

I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Giveaway

And now, what you have all been waiting for. I am having a giveaway for Any Other Name, book 10 in the Longmire series. It will start today and run until May 19th. Just leave your name and email address and I will draw a winner on Wednesday, May 20. The print book will then be mailed to you.

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Today I’m pleased to announce a new books, The Legend of Waterhole Branch by Lucas Wright. Here is an interview with Lucas, and excerpt from The Legend of Waterhole Branch, and a chance to wing either an ebook or physical copy of The Legend of Waterhole Branch.

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Author, Lucas Wright has stopped by the blog today to chat about his debut novel, “The Legend of Waterhole Branch.”

To help promote his thrilling book, Lucas is doing this guest post with an extract from the story for fellow book lovers to enjoy.

How to Lose a Novel in Ten Days.

One of the more interesting aspects of my novel, The Legend of Waterhole Branch, was that I wrote the entire story, from start to finish, in ten days. It is 27 chapters and about 90,000 words spanning 392 pages. Most people don’t believe me when I tell them that and imagine the people that do believe me question the quality of the writing immediately. Now, I won’t pretend that my book is an award-winning best-seller waiting to happen, but the time-line is real, and I can explain how I did and the pros and cons of such an approach.

First off, let me qualify a few things. I am not professional writer. I do not make my living writing books, and The Legend of Waterhole Branch is my first novel. My day job, a finance consultant that helps people buy and sell companies, does require a lot of writing, but it is technical writing. It’s a lot of “X has historically done this, so we recommend Y” kind of stuff. It’s boring and stuffy, but it is writing none-the-less.

Secondly, the process of completing my novel took much longer than ten days. From first words on paper to online retailers took about seven months. My day job is quite time consuming, so finding the time and energy to write a story isn’t easy. That said, across five weekends (I only write on Saturday and Sunday), I was able to put all 90,000 words on paper. On my best day, I wrote 13,000 words in about fifteen hours.

Now, let me break down my process and what worked well and what nearly caused me to lose the novel.

The most important thing that enabled me to write so quickly was that I already had a lot of the story in my head. Long before I ever sat down to write, I brainstormed about the characters, the conflict, the scene, and the resolutions to each conflict. This was high level stuff. I envisioned what the characters looked like and what they were going to do in the story long before I wrote the story. This is where an outline would have been helpful. I took a few notes on my phone as ideas popped up, but I kept most of it my head. I would recommend jotting down the ideas as they come to you. Nothing is worse than driving down the road and thinking of a really exciting story line only to forget it later. Thankfully, this didn’t happen too much to me, but it easily could have.

When I finally decided to start writing, I would block of entire days. Personally, I don’t like writing a few hours at a time, though I think most writers would recommend this. I prefer to store plot and character development in my head, and then vomit it onto paper when my head couldn’t hold anymore. This allowed me to write upwards of twelve to fifteen hours every time I sat down to write The Legend of Waterhole Branch. I would get so excited and into the story, my fingers couldn’t type fast enough to keep up. I would get chills when action packed sequences unfolded and time would fly by. The down-side of this approach is that you get exhausted writing for twelve hours at a time and your story will suffer at the end of each session. I can still point to parts of my book where I remember being exhausted and I lose some of the interesting and complex aspects of my story.

Another way to lose a novel in ten days is that cranking out content for hours at a time will push you to write too much narrative and not enough dialogue. This is a critique that will haunt my story forever. Conversation and dialogue take much longer to think through and correctly put on paper. It slows the process. When I was rapidly writing about a suspenseful life or death stretch in my story, I would fall into the habit of telling the reader what was going on as opposed to letting the characters evolve the tory through dialogue.

Finally, the number one negative to rear its ugly head when speed writing is the horrific grammar and spelling that will undoubtedly fall out. I was fortunate enough to be able to afford three terrific editors to clean up my mistakes, but I recognize that not everyone can lean on outsourced help like that. I pushed through the first round of edits myself and it took me two twelve hour days to clean up the mistakes that totaled well over fifty a page. I paid a little more for the copyeditors to provide clean versions after the next two edits. This was worth its weight in gold.

In conclusion, I will continue to speed write my stories given my short windows of writing opportunities and the joy I get out of blasting through action packed content, but it comes at a cost. Though, all things in life require some sort of cost benefit analysis, and to me, writing a novel in ten days is worth the risk of losing it.

EXCERPT

The cold steel from a Glock 19 lightly tapped against Hunter Pierce’s temple. He was trapped in his home office on the forty-second floor of the Trump SoHo by a well-built Spanish man and five other men with guns. His body broke out in a light sweat, but his heart rate never wavered. Steady and normal.

Hunter’s indifference seemed to unnerve the Spanish man with the ponytail. He paced back and forth. Most men would cower or beg for their lives, but Hunter remained silent. He slouched in a black leather chair, staring straight ahead while the men searched his office for information.

The truth was, he had known this day was coming.

“Where is it?” the large man holding the pistol to Hunter’s head asked in Spanish. He then faced the other men. “Victor, check the desk drawers too.”

through the sleeves of their black shirts. Victor was the only exception, but what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle. He moved furniture aside and overturned the smaller pieces throughout the office with the ease of a champion weightlifter.

“Where is what?” Hunter said quietly, trying not to sound oblivious.

Although he spoke fluent Spanish, he responded in English. No reason to show off for these guys. Now was not the time. He reserved that skill for impressing women, clients, and certain high-profile dignitaries that he often entertained for his job.

The man’s hands shook, and his face reddened. “The gold, Señor Pierce,” he said coolly. “Where is the gold?”

The gold he was referring to was the fabled Alonso Álvarez de Pineda treasure long rumored to be hidden in south Alabama sometime in the early 1500s—August 1519, to be exact. Hunter had performed extensive research on the subject and was now one of the most knowledgeable people on earth regarding early Spanish explorations and the various valuables that had accompanied the adventurers on their voyages. Pineda was an explorer thought to never have made his way inland, but the reality was that he had spent a small amount of time in south Alabama, sailing north through Mobile Bay and settling on the eastern shore near the southernmost point of the state. From Mobile Bay, Pineda and his crew maneuvered smaller boats into the adjacent Weeks Bay and north through present-day Fish River and Magnolia River, small tributaries, neither longer than twenty-five miles.

The small rivers fed the bays, which fed the Gulf of Mexico, where most Spanish explorers landed after making their way around Florida from the Atlantic Ocean to search for the perceived riches of the New World. They brought massive amounts of gold to engage in trade with whomever they might find, but the land was scarcely inhabited by Native Americans, who didn’t have much to offer in return. Two weeks after Pineda made landfall, a large hurricane destroyed much of his fleet, and the gold was said to be hidden in a small creek off Fish River called Waterhole Branch. This was where Hunter was born and raised until his life was drastically altered at the age of fourteen.

“Perhaps we started off on the wrong foot,” the Spaniard continued. “My name is Roberto Ibanez, and we know you found the gold. Now you are going to tell me where it is and provide me with the necessary assistance to export it to Spain, where it belongs … with my family.”

“And why would I do that?” Hunter glanced around the room.

His office was in shambles. The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed maximum sunlight and offered a great view of the city. A huge modern desk covered with paperwork, an overturned phone, and a quietly whirring computer matched the dark-wood coffee table. Two soft leather chairs faced the desk. Books and files littered the hardwood floor. Drawers had been pulled out and carelessly discarded; priceless antiques and vases broken.

The Spaniard tapped his cheap wingtip impatiently. “Because if you don’t, I will snatch the life right out of you.”

Hunter shifted uncomfortably. His mind raced. He eyed the metallic pistol inches from his forehead. Given the circumstances, he didn’t have many options. These men must’ve already killed the doorman, Freddy. He glanced at the door to his office, noting that a bullet had shattered the lock. Surely someone had heard the gunshot and the men trampling down his door. Maybe one of his neighbors had called the police.

At least Hunter had been able to grab his iPhone and switch it to silent mode before slipping it into his right cowboy boot without anyone noticing.

“Where is it, cabron?” Roberto demanded.

“I don’t have any gold.”

Roberto struck out with a fist, causing Hunter’s head to whip around. Pain exploded up the side of his face and into his temple.

Wrong thing to say, I guess.

Have a temper problem?” Hunter asked, spitting blood onto the floor.

Roberto leaned forward, his sour breath coating Hunter’s bruised cheek. “Watch it, smartass. I do not have time for games. Tell me now before I decide to put a bullet between your eyes.”

Hunter briefly wondered if he could take out two or three of them, but he decided against it.

Even though Hunter was six foot three with broad shoulders and a powerful build, years of prolific drug use and an exhaustive nightlife had weakened his body. One of the men bumped his chair, and Hunter’s fists clenched. A rare flash of anger heated his face. These muscle men were invading his privacy, and there was nothing he could do about it. Hunter hated feeling helpless. He hated that his life had become so pathetic. Once he’d been a star athlete and considered classically handsome with high cheekbones and light brown hair that curled at the tips; however, dark shadows now rimmed his blue eyes and paled his normally tan skin.

Still, he had to do something….

Author-Lucas-Wright-Novelist

ABOUT LUCAS

Lucas R. Wright lives a quiet life as a CPA in Atlanta, Georgia, where he provides services for private equity firms, and has become a master at writing suspense.

When not penning thrilling, fictional tales, Lucas can be found traveling around the Caribbean, reading his favorite authors, or playing golf. While he’s never been on an actual treasure hunt, Lucas has dreamed about finding the fabled gold hidden in Waterhole Branch since childhood.

“The Legend of Waterhole Branch” is his first novel.

More information on Lucas’s book, please visit him online:

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/10812102.Lucas_R_Wright

Official Website: http://www.lucasrwright.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lucasrwright

Twitter @LucasRWright – https://twitter.com/lucasrwright

Amazon – http://amzn.com/149694299X

Barnes & Noble – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-legend-of-waterhole-branch-lucas-r-wright/1120464437?ean=9781496942999

Book_cover_-_The_Legend_of_Waterhole_Branch

A Harrowing Race Against Time…

For centuries, treasure hunters have sought to uncover the infamous legend regarding a wealth of gold buried somewhere within Waterhole Branch by a notorious Spanish explorer…

But it turns out that one man may have already found it.

Hunter Pierce, raised in a rural area of southern Alabama, has mysteriously built a lucrative career on Wall Street. He’s young. He’s smart. He’s ambitious. And he has his whole future ahead of him.

One night everything changes.

Locked in a treacherous game with ruthless killers and embroiled in a treasure hunt of epic proportions, Hunter is reunited with his two childhood friends—Brian and Camilla—who unexpectedly find themselves coaxed into this pulse-pounding adventure.

Unsure who is friend or foe, Hunter returns to Waterhole Branch—where his survival hinges on outsmarting the bad guys, masterminding an escape, and putting his trust in an unlikely source.

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And now for a chance to win either and ebook or physical copy of The Legend of Waterhole Branch.

eBook Giveaway Details

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Make sure to stick around. I will have a review of The Legend of Waterhole Branch soon.

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Blood Curdling

I’m happy to say that I’m part of the Blood Curdling Blowout. We have a Kindle Fire that we are giving away and numerous books and other goodies. Make sure to check out the link above for all of the goodies and other blogs that are taking part in this giveaway.

To enter into the main giveaway for the Kindle and 10 Prize Packs, fill out this form.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

For my giveaway, I have a couple books to giveaway. This will run from now until Sunday, September 7th at midnight Pacific Time.

 Born of Oak and Silver – Marie McKean E-copy
 Once Within – Marie McKean E-copy
 A Life of Death Book 1 – Weston Kincade E-copy
Strange Circumstances – Weston Kincade E-copy

To enter into my giveaway, leave a comment to this post with your email. Good luck!!

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