Why should I provide my email address?

Start saving money today with our FREE daily newsletter packed with the best FREE and bargain Kindle book deals. We will never share your email address!
Sign Up Now!

Today’s Kindle Nation Daily eBook of the Day:

20 Rave Reviews for Bradley Convissar’s Blood, Smoke and Ashes, and Just 99 Cents on Kindle!

 

<%title%>

 

Blood, Smoke and Ashes

by Bradley Convissar
4.2 stars – 26 Reviews
Or currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members Via the Kindle Lending Library
Text-to-Speech: Enabled

Here’s the set-up:

In the Fall of 1955, the state of Nevada used the electric chair to execute a prisoner for the first time.

It was also the last time.

Molly Blackburn, nicknamed Jane the Ripper by the Las Vegas press after killing eleven men while posing as a prostitute, was strapped to the chair without incident. The switch was flipped.

Everything after that went horribly wrong.

Since that day, a copycat Jane the Ripper has appeared almost every decade in a different city, mimicking Molly’s choice in victims as well as her methods of murder. She kills eleven men then disappears, never to be found. The similarities between the bodies left behind each decade is uncanny. As if they are all the victims of the same murderer, not a copycat.

But that’s impossible, of course, because Molly Blackburn is dead, her execution witnessed by a dozen people.

FBI Agent Jack Shaw, the lead investigator in the Jane the Ripper cases since the seventies, finally catches a break in 2009 when the intended fifth victim manages to turn the tables on the newest copycat . Everyone believes that the horror has finally ended with her capture. Shaw is not so sure, though, wondering if someone else will take up the mantle and kill seven more men to complete the cycle. But when no more bodies with her distinctive markings show up over the next two years, Shaw allows himself to believe that maybe he has seen the end of the Jane the Ripper murders.

As it turns out, what he thought was the end was only the beginning.

His hunt will take him across the country, and even when he thinks he’s finally discovered the truth, he quickly learns that not everything is as it seems.

That not every monster is created equal.

That the nature of good and evil is not as black and white as he has always believed.

That not everything that is broken can be put back together.

That not every fractured soul can be saved.

When blood, smoke and ashes rise, no one comes out the same on the other side.

About the Author

 

› Visit Amazon’s Bradley Convissar Page

 

Brad Convissar is a dentist by day, a writer of dark fiction at night, and a father, husband, and not-so-proud pet owner when time permits.

He is the author of several dozen short stories, four novellas, and will be releasing his first novel, Blood, Smoke and Ashes, a supernatural thriller, in early 2013.

He was born in Georgia, but moved to southern New Jersey before he could be forced to be an Atlanta Braves fan. He spent his formative years living outside of Philadelphia where he latched on to the Philly sports teams and was promptly disappointed for almost twenty years. He spent his college years in New Orleans, where he earned his bachelor’s degree in evolutionary biology at Tulane University, then relocated to lovely Newark New Jersey, where he earned his DMD.

After eight years of bouncing around, Brad finally settled down back in south Jersey, only miles from the house he grew up in. He is happily married and the proud father of two children. He is also “dad’ to a diabetic, half-blind eight-year-old daschund named Friday who is little more than a lump on the couch most of the time.

When not filling cavities or performing root canals or extracting teeth or fabricating dentures, or writing, he spends his time playing with his kids, playing video games, reading comic books, reading non-illustrated books, and impotently rooting on his beloved Philadelphia Phillies or less than beloved Philadelphia Eagles.

His favorite authors are, but not limited to, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Clive Barker, Richard Matheson, Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child, Simon Green, Jim Butcher, and Jeffery Deaver. He likes to think he learned something of the art of writing from each of these authors.

To this day, he wonders how the TV show LOST got so bad, so quickly. The wasted potential of the first three seasons still haunts him.

 

* * *

And here, in the comfort of your own browser, is your free sample of Blood, Smoke and Ashes by Bradley Convissar:

KND Kindle Free Book Alert for April 23: Seven Bestselling Freebies Just For Today! Plus The Best Kindle Deals Anywhere … Sponsored by Robin Covington’s His Southern Temptation (Today’s Sponsor – $2.99)

But first, a word from ... Today's Sponsor
His Southern Temptation made my Kindle steam up when I was reading and gave me the happy sighs when I was done. Loved this book.
His Southern Temptation
by Robin Covington
4.8 stars - 39 reviews
Supports Us with Commissions Earned
Text-to-Speech: Enabled
Here's the set-up:
Some women are bad. Some women are a bad idea. The best ones are both...

As a Black Ops assassin, “Lucky” Landon has had more than his fair share of close calls. Now he’s turned in his sniper rifle for the simple life of his small hometown. So the last thing he ever expected was to end up at gunpoint. Or that the woman holding the gun would be his best friend’s little sister and Lucky’s on-again/off-again lover.
 
Taylor Elliott is Trouble, and she likes it that way. And seeing Lucky again? Well, he’s been her dirty little secret for the past few years and everyone knows that secrets in a small town are almost impossible to keep. But Taylor has bigger problems on her plate. Like the local mob boss who wants her dead.
 
And right now the only thing standing between Trouble and disaster is a hottie named Lucky...
One Reviewer Notes:
His Southern Temptation takes a fresh look at The Boys Who Are Back in Town, and pays off nicely. Lucky works hard to put his inner demons to rest, and Taylor helps him do that (oh, and how she does!). Can't wait for the next title in this series, Covington has a nice feel for place and character, her storytelling skills shine in this new work.
SAndr
About the Author
Robin Covington, who NYT Best Selling authors, Robyn Carr and Carly Phillips, said was their new "auto-buy author", writes sizzling hot contemporary and paranormal romance. A Night of Southern Comfort, her best-selling debut was nominated by RT Book Reviews for the 2012 Best Contemporary Romance from an Indie Press for bringing a "fresh, modern feel to the genre while still sticking to the things that get our adrenaline pumping -- sex and danger". When she Robin Covington, who NYT Best Selling authors, Robyn Carr and Carly Phillips, said was their new "auto-buy author", writes sizzling hot contemporary and paranormal romance. A Night of Southern Comfort, her best-selling debut was nominated by RT Book Reviews for the 2012 Best Contemporary Romance from an Indie Press for bringing a "fresh, modern feel to the genre while still sticking to the things that get our adrenaline pumping -- sex and danger". When she's not exploring the theme of fooling around and falling in love, she's collecting tasty man candy, indulging in a little comic book geek love, and stalking Joe Mangianello. Robin is a member of the Romance Writers of America, the Washington Romance Writers, a faculty member at Romance University, a member of the Waterworld Mermaids, a Goddess at The Naked Hero, and a contributor to the Happy Ever After blog at USA Today. You can find Robin on her website, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter (@RobinCovington). She lives in Maryland with her hilarious husband, brilliant children, and ginormous puppy.
UK CUSTOMERS: Click on the title below to download
His Southern Temptation

And Here Are Seven Free Kindle Titles – Just For Today!

Prices may change at any moment, so always check the price before you buy! This post is dated Tuesday, April 23, 2013, and the titles mentioned here may remain free only until midnight PST tonight.

Please note: References to prices on this website refer to prices on the main Amazon.com website for US customers. Prices will vary for readers located outside the US, and even for US customers, prices may change at any time. Always check the price on Amazon before making a purchase.

*  *  *

4.1 stars – 28 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Charlie was a ghost hunter who didn’t really believe in ghosts, but he believed in the effect being a ghost hunter had on girls. He thought he had perfected the ultimate pick up line, “I’m a ghost hunter.” All that came crashing down when he met his soul mate…a ghost.

*  *  *

Living with Fred (The Fred Books)

by Brad Whittington

4.8 stars – 22 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Mark Cloud is back in Fred, Texas but Fred is not the same and neither is Mark. He begins to ask troublesome questions.

*  *  *

DANGEROUS TALENTS

by Frankie Robertson

4.6 stars – 58 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Celia Montrose has been trained to deal with any emergency–except being thrust into another world. Nothing has prepared her for meeting the Viking descendants of the lost Vinland colony, or coping with kidnapping, murder, and magic.

*  *  *

4.4 stars – 38 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
31 Superb & Healthy Baked Chicken Recipes is designed to provide nutritious and healthy baked chicken recipes in a short space of time. This is an ideal companion for the busy mum who still loves cooking but is trying to get the right balance. Included are meals that cater for the individual, her family as well as her guests.

*  *  *

4.4 stars – 92 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Quinn Robbins never planned on sacrificing anything. Her life was perfect – everything she thought a teenager’s should be. But all of that is about to change.

*  *  *

How to Love a Princess

by Claire Robyns

4.2 stars – 10 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Love exploded into the sheltered life of Princess Catherine de’Ariggo when she met Nicolas Vecca. But duty calls Catherine to sacrifice that love. Now, years later, she must be strong once more. Can she ignore the whisperings of her heart and stand firm in her convictions? Trusting in Nicolas, loving him, is a risk she dare not take.

*  *  *

4.9 stars – 11 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
What if a single touch could change your fate forever?  What if moving to a new school meant your entire world would be turned upside down?

*  *  *

Check out our Free Book Search Tool for a boatload of free books

or check here for the best deals today on Kindle!

100kindlebooksKDDeals

 

bookgorilla99cent

Romance of The Week Free Excerpt! Check Out Darby Davenport’s Walk Away with Me (A Loving Nature Novella) Featured in Today’s Free Excerpt & Then Download The Whole eBook For Just 99 Cents on Kindle!

Last week we announced that Darby Davenport’s Walk Away with Me (A Loving Nature Novella) is our Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded Walk Away with Me (A Loving Nature Novella), you’re in for a real treat:

4.2 stars – 36 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

A man with a painful past, a woman who fears commitment, and a dog with only one more chance at life–together, can they find love?

Evolved Publishing presents “Walk Away with Me,” the first in the “Loving Nature Novella” series by Darby Davenport. These fun stories combine some occasionally steamy romance with a wholesome taste of the outdoors. FOR ADULTS ONLY. (Novella: Complete at 25,000 Words)

What is Charlie Rockwell supposed to do when the sad Rottweiler’s eyes connect with hers through the TV screen and work their way straight into her heart? She adopts him without a second thought or the slightest knowledge how to take care of the large, needy dog with the traumatic past.

Ethan Porter is not happy when a savage Rottweiler picks a fight with his mild-mannered Golden Retriever at the dog park. But his anger quickly dissipates when tears begin to form behind the eyes of the dog’s beautiful owner–eyes that are far too familiar for his liking. Disregarding his instincts, Ethan can’t deny her plea when she asks him to teach her the basics of dog ownership.

Can he ignore the fact that she bears a strong resemblance to his ex and finally learn to trust again? Will she find committing to both man and dog more exciting than the freedom of a single, unrestrained life?

And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free excerpt:

The scrawny Rottweiler’s eyes connected with Charlie’s through the TV screen, begging her to save him.

What if nobody else calls in? What if I’m his last chance at finding a home? Well, crap. I can’t just let him die. She grabbed her cell phone, called the local news station hosting the adoptable pets segment, and signed on the dotted line. Not once did she think she might be making a mistake. Not once did she consider the fact she’d been unable to commit to a man—or even a roommate—longer than two measly months.

And now she planned to commit to a one-year-old canine coming straight from a neglected past?

Well, adventure had certainly found her, whether she’d asked for it or not.

The rescue volunteers didn’t ask many questions before inviting her to visit the kennel and come pick him up. If they had, maybe she’d have changed her mind.

She might have seen this as a move with the potential of becoming the biggest mistake of her entire life. Worse than the time she’d left mid-semester her junior year to travel to India in search of the answer to life. Worse than the time she’d got so caught up in the cinematic excitement of V for Vendetta she’d shaved her head in homage. Even worse than the time she’d practically eloped with a guy she’d only dated three weeks, because it seemed like a good and wildly romantic idea at the time.

At least she’d talked herself out of that one.

But what good did escaping one bad decision do her, if she’d just replaced it with another by committing herself to a strange dog for, at minimum, the next ten years?

Charlie took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. No going back now. She may have been impulsive, but she had a heart, damn it, and she wouldn’t abandon a dog no one else wanted in the first place. Definitely too late to change her mind at this point. “Now or never,” she said to the hula dancer figurine on her dashboard before grabbing her purse and slamming the car door behind her.

“Oh, you must be Charlotte Rockwell.” A volunteer with a sloppy button-up shirt and a way-too-large smile greeted her the second she entered the shelter.

She nodded, pretending her feet were one million pound weights gluing her to the linoleum floor below—the only way she’d be able to avoid making a break for it.

“I’m Angela. Come on and follow me to the back.” Her oversized smile grew even larger as she turned and trotted toward the back of the building.

Charlie’s eyes darted to the floor to check if Angela’s shoes sported actual springs.

“I’m sure Ruby told you everything you need to know when she stopped by for the home check, right?”

She nodded, even though she didn’t have the slightest idea who Ruby was. The woman certainly hadn’t been by her house for a visit.

“Perfect! Rugby’s such a sweet boy once you get to know him. I’m so glad he’s finally found a good home. You must be thrilled.”

‘Once you get to know him?’ What does that mean? She was this close to changing her mind and dashing straight out of there, but when they pushed through the large metal door to the kennel, Rugby glanced up at her with those same sad eyes that had melted her heart in the first place.

She was screwed.

“Hi, Rugby,” Angela cooed in a goochy-goo voice. “Look who it is. Your new mommy’s come to take you home. Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are.”

Charlie sank to a squatting position and stuck her index finger through the metal fencing.

Rugby stretched and raised himself into a sitting position. He sniffed her hand delicately and gave her a huge sloppy lick.

“Oh, see. You two are perfect! Best buds already,” Angela squealed. She rattled off a litany of instructions, shoved the folder of paperwork into one hand, and the leash to Charlie’s new 115-pound baby in the other, and together dog and woman headed home.

 

Ethan stifled a laugh as he watched the petite blonde tear into the dog park at the end of her Rottweiler’s leash. Hardly three seconds passed as they sprinted from the parking lot to the first entry gate.

When the girl unhitched the second entry gate, her dog ran away at lightning speed, not even allowing her to remove his leash. Her eyes darted from side to side as if to make sure nobody had witnessed the mishap.

Luckily, Ethan looked away before she could catch him staring. He allowed his gaze to settle on her again as she ran after her squatting dog with a plastic baggie cupped over her hand.

Despite the circumstances, she was beautiful. Blonde hair escaped from her pony tail and clung to her cheeks in tendrils. Her delicate lips and nose were balanced by huge brown eyes and thick lashes. She almost reminded him of….

He snapped his attention away. Couldn’t be thinking like that. Not today. He needed a distraction, and fast.

“Tuck!”

His golden retriever jogged over and nuzzled Ethan’s thigh.

“Good boy.” As he scratched the dog’s head, he sensed her eyes on him, but he refused to look—refused to give her any reason to come over and attempt to start a conversation. When had he become such a bitter old man?

He was hardly thirty—way too young to write off the opposite sex altogether. He should still be in his party phase, flirting with any pretty girl who happened to look his way, taking as many of them to bed as possible. But, no, he wasn’t like that—even though he often wished he was. Would have saved him the heartache of….

He grabbed the ball Tuck had dropped at his feet and hurled it toward the horizon as hard as he could. The dog raced after it in a blur of golden fur and pounding feet.

Too late, he noticed the massive black blur moving in on the ball from the opposite side of the park.

“Rugby, no!” the blonde girl screamed, but her reprimand fell on deaf ears.

The two dogs reached the single ball at the exact same time. The Rottweiler bared his teeth, a low growl emanating from his throat, but Tuck wouldn’t back down. The poor dog didn’t even realize what was about to happen. Why would he? He’d never run into such an aggressive, undertrained beast before.

Tuck barked an invitation for the other dog to play, and Ethan took off running to save his poor, over-trusting pet from the inevitable fight.

The hairs on the back of the Rottweiler’s back bristled. His growl grew louder, more defined. And he lunged at the unsuspecting Retriever.

“Rugby, no!” the girl screamed again as she, too, raced toward the scene.

Tuck whimpered and ran back to Ethan, but the other dog slinked after him with a predatory gait.

“Hey, lady. How about controlling your dog?” he spat.

The blonde grabbed the end of the leash that was still attached to her dog and pulled him back. “I’m so sorry. I….” A sudden onslaught of tears overwhelmed her attempt to speak.

Great. Now Ethan felt like a bigger monster than her damned dog. “Hey, it’s okay. Tuck’s just fine. No harm done.” He patted the dog’s head and turned toward the other side of the park, but before he could gain much distance, she spoke again.

“Really, I’m sorry. I’ve only had Rugby for a few days, and I don’t really have any experience with dogs. I thought if I brought him here, I’d see how more experienced people act with their dogs. Maybe learn a thing two.” She sniffed back a tear and stared up at him with large, brown eyes—far too familiar for his liking.

Why did she get such a difficult breed if she knows nothing about taking care of a dog? Ethan wondered. Still, he felt like he should offer something helpful before parting ways. “Good luck with your training. Try watching The Dog Whisperer if you have time.”

His hold on her eyes broke when Rugby stood on his hind legs to lick the tears from his owner’s face.

She chuckled and gently pushed the Rottweiler back on all fours, then wiped the slobber from her cheeks with the backs of her hands. Turning serious again, she said, “Thanks, I will, but… I just don’t know what to do. I’m his last chance. The shelter had him for weeks. He even appeared on the adoptable pet segment of the news three separate times. Nobody wanted him except me. If I can’t make it work, I’m practically signing his death warrant.”

Ethan frowned. What could he say to that?

“Hey, your dog is really well-behaved. Maybe you can help us?”

Crap. He didn’t want to spend time with a girl who reminded him way too much of the woman who’d turned him off love altogether, but at the same time, he couldn’t refuse if it meant saving the dog’s life.

“I—I’ll pay. I’ll pay whatever it takes. Only, please help us.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and offered a weak smile.

“Okay, sure,” he gave in. “And don’t worry, you don’t have to pay me anything.” He didn’t return her smile. He couldn’t let her think he was doing this for any other reason than to save the dog.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much!” She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “You have no idea how much you’re helping me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Warmth spread through Ethan’s body. He took a deep breath and let his arms go slack. She’s just a girl, he reminded himself. Just a girl.

“I’m Charlotte by the way. Friends call me Charlie.” She released him from the hug and tucked a strand of hair behind her other ear.

“Ethan.” He drew a business card from his wallet. “Call me, and we’ll set something up.”

As soon as she accepted the card, he retreated to the other side of the park and tried not to think about how her touch had stirred something deep within him. A girl. Just a girl.

 

 

 

Something foul pricked at the inside of Charlie’s nostrils as she headed downstairs the next morning. Realization hit her like a dead chicken to the face.

Aww, Rugby! You couldn’t have waited five minutes?” She fanned her hand in front of her face to keep from gagging at the sight—and stench—of the dark spot quickly spreading across the living room carpet.

Rugby sat proudly near his puddle, his tongue lolling from the side of his gaping maw.

“They told me you were potty trained.” She shuffled to the kitchen to retrieve a mass of cleaning supplies. I have no idea what I’m doing, she thought for the millionth time as the white paper towels turned yellow.

The dog came over to examine her progress. She must not have been doing it satisfactorily, because he barked and dropped his Kong toy right into the middle of the mess.

“Ouch!” Charlie cried when the hard rubber made contact with her knuckles. “Bad dog!”

Rugby continued with his stupid, open-mouthed smile, not the least bit concerned for her throbbing hand or ruined Saturday morning.

She remembered Ethan’s business card tucked snugly into the pocket of the jeans she’d been wearing yesterday. He’d seemed really uncomfortable about her request for help, and she’d planned to let him off the hook—but she needed the help more than she needed to avoid an awkward situation.

What time is it? Charlie’s eyes darted around the room until they connected with the antique Tuscan clock over the mantel—a souvenir from her vacation earlier that summer. Ten o’clock. Probably too early to phone a stranger who clearly didn’t want her to call.

Oh, to hell with common courtesy. Desperation forced Charlie to throw any semblance of politeness aside. After finishing up with the carpet and washing her hands for two solid minutes, she grabbed her iPhone and punched in Ethan’s cell number.

“Hello?” His voice sounded muffled as wind whipped into the receiver.

“Ethan?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?” The wind quieted, and he inhaled a heavy breath of air.

“This is Charlie. We met at the dog park.”

“Oh, right. You had the Rottweiler with the attitude problem.”

She glanced down at Rugby who laid his head on her knee and looked up at her with those irritatingly adorable eyes. “He’s not a bad dog.”

Rugby pulled away, leaving a glistening string of saliva stuck to her pajama leg. Ewww.

Charlie laughed. “Okay. Maybe he’s a little bad, but he doesn’t mean to be. He just needs some TLC and someone who knows what he’s doing with the whole obedience thing.”

Ethan’s voice softened. “So you still need my help?”

“Oh, God, yes. Please, please help. I’m begging you. The lady at the shelter said he was potty trained, but this morning he peed on the carpet, and he drooled all over me, and he smashed his toy into my hand, and I can’t take him outside without being dragged down the block at light speed, and I feel like—”

“Charlie, slow down.” Her name spilling forth from his lips caught her attention in a way she liked. “Can you meet me at the Sheridan Nature Reserve this afternoon at three?”

“Yes, we’ll be there. Thank you so much.”

They hung up and she let out a sigh of relief. “Well, Rugby, we’ve got four and a half hours to kill. What do you want to do?”

In response, the dog lay down with his head on his paws and closed his eyes, leaving Charlie to find her own means of entertainment.

 

Ethan stared at his Blackberry until the screensaver cut out. Why did he have to be so damn chivalrous? Always the guy to rescue the damsel-in-distress and save the day. Of course, what he needed didn’t matter one bit.

Not only did Charlie’s striking resemblance to Ashlee make his innards contract with pain, but he actually needed to catch up on work today. Guess he’d be staying up late.

Tuck whined at his side.

“I’m sorry, buddy. Looks like our jog is over for the day.”

The dog fell into step beside him as he turned toward their home.

On second thought, Ethan clicked his phone back to life and scrolled through his recent call history until he found the name he wanted.

Brad answered on the third ring. “What’s up?”

Ethan didn’t want to talk about Charlie. That would mean drawing this whole ordeal out way more than necessary. He’d just meet her at the nature reserve today, teach her how to handle her dog, and it would all be over—just like that. He could find a different dog park, even.

“Out for a walk with Tuck before catching up with work. How’s Amelia? How are the girls?”

“They’re great, man, but they miss you. When are we going to see you again?”

Ethan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He and Brad had been best friends since junior high. They’d grown up together, done everything together—that is, until Brad got married, started a family, and left Ethan in the dust. Sure, he tried to make time, but the responsibilities of being a father were many, and Ethan didn’t want his godchildren missing out on time with their daddy for his benefit.

“Are you doing anything next weekend?” Brad prodded. “Why don’t you come over and help me do some grillin’?”

“That sounds great. I’ll bring the burgers and brats.”

“You’re on.” Brad fell silent for a moment. “Anything you wanted to talk about?”

Ethan didn’t hesitate. “No, just wanted to catch up with my bro. Tuck and I are home. I’ll see you next weekend.”

“Bye.”

He ended the call and jammed the phone in his pocket. He and Tuck were nowhere near home, but he knew if he talked with Brad any longer, he’d mention Charlie. The last thing Ethan needed was Brad giving him the grand inquisition next weekend, because by then, Charlie would be long gone from his life.

 

Although she wasn’t particularly looking forward to spending an afternoon with Ethan, two o’clock couldn’t come fast enough for Charlie—or for Rugby. In the meantime, he ate through the side of the food bag she’d left propped against the laundry room wall. Before she realized her mistake, the thirty-five pound bag of food was down to twenty-five, tops.

She groaned and used the baby gate to confine him to the kitchen, just in case it all came up again. Life with a dog may be a huge commitment, Charlie mused, but it certainly isn’t boring.

Rugby yipped and wagged his stub as if privy to her internal thoughts. She was about to tell him what a good dog he was, when he jumped up and placed his mammoth front paws on her shoulders. The force of impact pushed her back into the counter where she banged her elbow hard.

“No! Bad, bad dog,” she yelled. For some reason, she felt guilty about scolding him even though she was well within her rights as a pet owner.

He whimpered and lowered his head to the ground.

“All right. That’s it. You want to go to the park? Huh, boy?” A quick look at the microwave’s digital clock confirmed it was still way too early, but she didn’t care anymore. At least at the reserve Rugby could run off some steam.

 

 

 

Charlie sat on the hood of her car and allowed Rugby to run through the gravel parking lot, chasing any pigeon foolish enough to land within a ten-foot radius. She’d parked at the far back of the reserve, and, luckily, her dog hadn’t strayed toward the busier end where families with small children loaded and unloaded their vehicles.

At first she’d worried Rugby would accost the other patrons with big slobbery greetings, but he refused to venture more than a few feet from her at any given time. For all his faults, Rugby clearly adored her, which is what made her keep trying rather than rushing back to the rescue and admitting she’d taken on far more than she could handle.

A half hour later, an enormous SUV pulled into the lot. Tuck spotted her before Ethan did and bounded over to say hello.

“Rugby, be good,” Charlie warned as Ethan jogged over with a leash in one hand and a bag of treats in the other.

This time, the Rottweiler seemed much more relaxed about the presence of the other dog. He even wagged his stub in greeting.

“You really shouldn’t let him run loose like that.” Ethan frowned as he drew nearer.

Tuck’s loose.”

“Tuck’s trained.”

Ugh. She hoped he wouldn’t maintain this attitude with her all afternoon. And he’d said Rugby had the problem. Yeah.

More flies with honey, Charlie thought and offered Ethan her brightest smile. “Well, Rugby will be soon, too. With your help, I mean. Thank you for meeting us today.” She bent down and hooked the leash onto her dog’s collar.

Ethan cleared his throat and ran his palm across the back of his neck. “It’s no problem.”

Was he blushing? Charlie craned her neck to get a better view. He was blushing! For the first time since meeting him, she allowed herself to take a better look. Thick eyebrows framed stunning blue eyes, and his lower lip was deliciously plump. The summer sun had given him a nice tan, while well-muscled legs indicated a running habit.

He glanced up at her and smiled uncomfortably. The whiteness of his teeth sparkled in contrast to his bronzed skin.

Why does he have to be so attractive? Charlie wondered. I need help controlling my dog, not some mindless fling. Well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they exercised the dogs first, and then….

No, she couldn’t let herself get lost in the image of his strong arms wrapping around her waist, his hands yanking at the buttons that dotted the front of her shirt in a neat little row. Maybe one would pop off. Then he’d kiss the hollow of her neck and trail his tongue along her collar bone until—

“Ready to head to the trail?” His expression was quizzical as he leaned down to leash Tuck.

Charlie snuck a quick peek at his butt, which flexed taut and smooth beneath his khaki shorts. A fling would be okay, she decided at once. After all, she hadn’t been with anyone since her vacation to Tuscany earlier that summer.

She just needed to make sure he understood what she wanted from him up front—pleasure, fun, and absolutely no strings. Besides, their personalities clashed. She was fun and impulsive. And he…?

Wait, would he be this uptight in bed, too?

Rugby barked and tugged hard on his leash, reminding her why they’d come here in the first place.

Apparently, Ethan had already jumped head-long into a lecture about proper obedience training. She nodded and smiled, hoping she hadn’t missed anything important during her lustful interlude.

Charlie,” he said in a way that implied he’d probably called her name more than once. “Snap back on the leash and tell him to heel.”

She yanked on the leather looped through her hand. “Heel, Rugby.”

“Good, good. A little harder next time. Really get his attention.”

They walked in silence for a couple minutes. Rugby was already doing better—and this with her mind residing elsewhere for their lesson so far. At this rate, they’d be done in no time, and could move onto phase two of this strange day. Somehow she had to get them from silence to moaning and groaning. Perhaps she should start with a question.

“So, Ethan.” She liked the way his name tasted in her mouth. “What do you do?”

His head jerked back and he shot her a cautious expression—no doubt startled by the non-dog-related inquiry. “I’m an actuary.”

An actuary?

“I assess risk,” he clarified.

“Sounds… fun.” She offered him an embarrassed smile, feeling stupid. “I’m a high school English teacher.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan’s eyes stayed glued to the horizon.

She was about to ask how he liked being an actuary, when he reached over and yanked the leash from her hands. “Heel,” he said firmly, then turned to her with a voice almost just as firm. “You have to keep on him, or he’ll never get better.”

“Sorry,” Charlie mumbled. Her insides shouldn’t have tingled when he scolded her, but somehow she liked it. Yes, Ethan would be hers—at least for tonight. Determination taking hold, she redoubled her efforts on the whole conversation thing.

“What are your weekends normally like?” She moved a couple inches closer to him on the trail.

“I take a jog with Tuck, head to the office to catch up on work. Sometimes catch a game.”

“And do you ever do anything for fun, like—?”

“Rugby, heel.” Ethan reached over to yank on the leash again. “Maybe we should quit trying to have a conversation and focus on the dogs, okay?”

Charlie nodded, though she was fuming inside. Was he oblivious to her intentions, or did he just not care?

 

Of course, Ethan saw Charlie’s interest—it was impossible not to see. The way she inched toward him while they walked, the look in her eyes as she asked her questions, how she’d begged him to help train her dog yet didn’t pay the slightest attention to his guidance.

In another life, he might have returned her flirty overtures. But this wasn’t another life—this was his life, warts and all.

Charlie stopped and bent down to scratch Tuck behind the ears. “Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are!” Tuck’s tongue popped out from the corner of his mouth as he thumped his tail against the earth, clearly smitten with his new friend. Not that it was unusual for the Golden Retriever to like everyone he came across, but still, he’d miss Charlie if allowed to grow too attached.

Unfortunately, their lessons with Rugby weren’t making much progress. The dog had a mind of his own, it seemed. Far too exuberant to be restrained.

Heck, Ethan would be exuberant, too, if he got to sleep curled up with Charlie each night. Her long legs looked gorgeous in her jean shorts. Her arms, too, were lithe and pretty. The green polka-dotted blouse complemented the flecks of emerald in her mostly brown eyes, and her thick, slightly curly blonde hair begged to be touched.

Tuck rolled over onto his back and demanded a belly rub.

Charlie giggled and rubbed him playfully with both hands. She glanced up at Ethan and grinned, joy bursting behind her familiar eyes.

This was ridiculous! Charlie was nothing like Ashlee.

Sure, they had eerily similar eyes and their delicate noses and mouths resembled each other as well, but while Charlie always wore a grin, Ashlee never smiled, not really. She was always whining about something or another—Ethan didn’t spend enough time with her, he spent too much time with her, he hadn’t bought her flowers for weeks, he’d bought the wrong flowers, he’d brought home Mexican when he should’ve known she wanted Italian.

On those rare occasions when he actually managed to give her what she wanted, she’d put on a huge smile and called him “snuggle bear.” Her smiles never lasted long, though. It only took a few seconds for the fire to dampen and for Ashlee to start demanding the next thing she swore would make her happy, if only for a second.

Of course, Ashlee had her good qualities, too. Being with her was safe, because she always knew exactly what she wanted and made sure to ask for it. Ethan didn’t like to be left guessing. He’d rather fulfill a million of her little demands than fail to figure out what she needed of him. As a successful accountant, she also shared his workaholism and his passion for numbers. They liked all the same movies and music, and, on the rare occasions when they felt called to read a book, they could read it together and discuss as they went.

For three wonderful years, she had been his companion, his greatest love. And he had been happy for the most part.

They’d still be together, in fact, if Ashlee hadn’t decided that despite his endless trying he couldn’t give her what she needed anymore. That much became crystal clear when he’d walked in on her with some bearded imposter. He’d returned home a day early from his trip to visit his parents in Minnesota and was overjoyed at the prospect of surprising her. He’d even picked up a dozen roses on his way home.

When he caught her making love to the coarse-looking stranger, he hadn’t thrown a fit. Instead, he calmly asked them both to gather their things and leave.

“I trust you can find a new place to live,” he told the woman who’d shared his heart and home for over three years.

When they had finally left, he took his aggression out on the roses, shoving them down the garbage disposal one by one and watching their beauty meet destruction just like his failed relationship. He had to live with the lingering fragrance of the flowers for nearly a week, reminding him of what he’d lost every second of every day.

That would teach him to find an outlet for his emotions.

This all had happened nearly a year ago. Since then, he’d somehow managed to stop longing for Ashlee, to stop thinking about her every time he got lonely and needed comfort, or was happy and wanted to share it with someone. He had accepted his solitary life and was content to share in Brad’s by proxy.

If taking a chance at love meant risking devastating heartbreak, Ethan refused to take the gamble.

Even with Charlie. Every warning bell in his head sounded when she was near, but still, he wanted her. He already saw how this would end—with rejection and roses down the garbage disposal—but still he wanted to pull her in and never let her go.

What was wrong with him? They’d only just met, and her personality was nothing like his. Then again, he and Ashlee had had everything in common, and their union failed. What if…?

Charlie popped up from her kneeling position and glanced at him with those tragically beautiful eyes. “Ready to get going again?”

How long had they been standing in place while Ethan mentally relived his failed relationship?

“Yeah, sorry.” He tightened his hold on Tuck’s leash and continued down the path.

Curiosity spread across Charlie’s face. “Is everything okay?”

Ethan frowned. Should he let her in, give her the chance to get to know him, take a risk?

Rugby saved him the trouble of making a decision when he pulled Charlie into the woods in pursuit of a squirrel.

“You’ve gotta keep on him!” Ethan shouted as he chased after them. When he caught up, he seized the Rottweiler’s leash and thrust Tuck’s into her hand. “Never ever leave the trail.”

“Ethan, it’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”

Rugby strained against the leash and Ethan sent a series of tight jerks down the line. “Not a big deal, huh? So I guess that means you’re a seasoned hiker?”

“Well, no. But I don’t get why you—”

“I am, and, trust me. It’s stupid to wander off. There are mountain lions, bears, wolves—all kinds of creatures who can tear you and your dog apart in a matter of seconds.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Ethan could feel the shivers running off Charlie’s skin. He sighed as he realized he’s been too harsh with her yet again.

“No, I’m sorry.” He offered a smile to put her at ease. “Remember how I assess risk for a living? Sometimes, I forget to clock out and live my life like a normal person.”

She nodded, but kept her eyes glued to the ground. “Thanks for letting me know. Rugby and I will be careful when we come back next time.”

The thought of Charlie alone in the woods, victim to the every whim of her unruly canine made Ethan shudder. He couldn’t let her endanger herself on his watch. She still needed a great deal more help in learning how to handle Rugby.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Charlie shrugged, refusing to look at him.

“I mean, you two still need to do a lot of work before you’re ready to come back. Why don’t we meet for another lesson tomorrow? We can continue our leash training and start in on the ‘leave it’ command. What do you say?”

Warmth returned to Charlie’s face as she glanced up and said, “Thank you. That would be great.”

They made plans to meet at Charlie’s house the next day at noon, and Ethan realized he could no longer ignore the fact he’d started to care about her.

 

 

 

The TV clicked off, taking Cesar Milan’s face with it. After returning from the nature reserve, Charlie found herself unable to focus on anything but Ethan and his hot and cold attitude. She cooled down with a languorous bath; her thighs hugged the edges of the jetted tub and she worked her own nipples until she achieved two sweet and satisfying climaxes. There, that would clear her mind. Good sex always had a way of putting her at ease.

But the thoughts of Ethan continued to plague her. In a last ditch effort to regain her sanity, she decided to take that first piece of advice he had ever given her—try watching The Dog Whisperer. Luckily, the Discovery Channel was running a marathon, thus treating her to a solid seven-hour block of “be the pack leader” and other such advice.

“I’m in charge,” she told Rugby who sat lazily at her feet. “Me.” She pointed to herself. “I’m alpha, okay?”

The dog jumped up on the sofa and planted a big wet kiss on her cheek.

She laughed, then said “off” in her most authoritative tone.

Rugby settled in and laid his head on his paws.

“Off!” she repeated, this time shoving him to the floor. At first she worried she’d hurt him, but when he opened his mouth in a smile, she knew he’d already forgiven her for her momentary coarseness.

“Sit.” She flicked her wrist to give the corresponding gesture.

Rugby obeyed.

“Not bad, not bad.” She patted her leg and said, “Come.”

Rugby obeyed again.

“What the heck? You mean, that’s all it took?”

Rugby barked as if he understood.

“Well then, looks like we have a nice head start for when we see Ethan tomorrow. Huh, boy?”

Charlie grabbed her current reading selection from the coffee table and trotted up the stairs, dog at her heels. Together, they jumped into bed and passed out.

The next thing she knew, Ethan was there in her bedroom. He ushered Rugby into the hallway and crawled beneath the comforter with her.

“Going to bed without me, Char?” He chuckled and ran a finger up the smoothness of her thigh.

“Without you? Never.” Charlie rolled over to face him and found her reflection in his still blue eyes.

He leaned in to kiss her—amazing yet comforting at the same time.

She opened her mouth wider to deepen their kiss.

In one swift maneuver, he grabbed her waist and pulled her on top of him. The throbbing warmth of his erection pressed into her pajama pants, and she tugged them down to grant him access.

“Mmm. Not yet,” Ethan moaned, removing his lips from hers for the briefest of seconds.

“Why not?” She tried to remove her bottoms once again.

“Because this isn’t real.”

Charlie awoke with a start. The dream had seemed so real, so sensuously real. Sure, she’d had plenty of sex dreams before, but this one was different. The way they talked, kissed, touched, looked at one another—this didn’t feel like just a fling; it felt like love.

Too bad love was completely out of the question. She’d seen what it had done to her mother. Love had taken hold of the once free-spirited, liberal, fun-loving woman and turned her into a dowdy housewife and stay-at-home mom. No, thank you.

Charlie loved her freedom too much to be tied down by any man. Her commitment to Rugby already meant next summer’s travelling plans would be seriously hampered. But a man, a boyfriend, what would that do to her life of freedom, fun, and absolutely no restraints? Especially, a man like Ethan who was so afraid of taking a risk, he couldn’t even venture off the stupid hiking trail.

She decided she was just horny—so deliriously horny her subconscious was starting to act out. Her dream was probably nothing more than some lame reinterpretation of a romantic comedy she’d seen years ago and long since forgotten. She mentally chastised herself and fell back into a fitful sleep.

 

The gear shift burned hot beneath Ethan’s grip. He let go and glared at the red indent it had left on his palm.

It’s just business. One dog lover helping another. Ethan tried to relax his tense muscles. Perhaps we’ll end up as friends. But even if she thinks she’s interested in me, she’s wrong. A guy like me could never keep up with a girl like her. We’d never work.

He made a loop around the cul-de-sac and pulled into Charlie’s driveway. Her modest ranch bore yellow vinyl siding and white shutters. The place had a cheery air, even though the garden in the front yard had withered due to neglect. Ethan laughed when he noticed the lawn gnome sporting beachwear that stood guard on her porch.

Tuck let out a high-pitched bark, eliminating any chance he had to gather his nerves before knocking.

“You ready to play?”

Tuck wagged his tail hard, beating it against the closed window.

“All right, all right. Let’s go, boy.”

Tuck barely waited for Ethan to hook him onto the leash before straining against it to make a dash for the front door.

Uh-oh. This whole dog teaching dog thing seems to work both ways, Ethan thought.

Tuck barked outside while Rugby barked inside.

A moment later, Charlie appeared in the doorway, her face red with exertion, but her eyes and smile bright. “Hi, Ethan. Hi, Tuck. Come on in.” She waddled backward while maintaining a firm hold on Rugby’s collar.

Ethan hurried in and clicked the door shut behind him.

The dogs immediately went into the whole butt-sniffing, greeting ritual thing and then ran off to play in the living room.

“Hi,” Charlie said again, hugging herself around the waist. Something had changed, but for the life of him, Ethan couldn’t figure out what. She still smiled, but her energy level seemed low.

“Didn’t sleep well?”

The rose of her cheek turned brick red, and she let out a large, choking cough.

“Whoa, whoa, you okay?” He couldn’t stand still while this beautiful woman hacked herself to death, so he moved in closer and patted her on the back. A light floral fragrance clung to her yellow T-shirt, tickling the inside of Ethan’s nose. He so badly wanted to inhale deeper, to suck her in, but resisted the urge.

She finally stopped coughing and took a step back from him. “Sorry about that.” Her face returned to its normal color, but she still seemed sapped.

He’d really hoped she would take the lead today, and now he wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Umm, why don’t we let Tuck outside and work with Rugby alone for a bit?”

She nodded and followed him over to the glass sliding door on the far end of her living room.

“We’ll start with something easy. Sit.” He flicked his wrist to add a gesture to the command. “Adding a visual cue helps, when—” He stopped cold when Rugby wandered over to them and set his rump flush on the ground.

Err, okay, beginner’s luck. Why don’t we try down.” Ethan held his palm horizontal and motioned toward the ground.

The Rottweiler sighed and shifted from a sitting to a lying position.

Charlie snickered and covered her mouth with both hands.

He squatted down to rub the dog’s neck as a reward and turned to look up at Charlie. “Have you—have you been working with him?”

“Maybe a little.”

Ethan’s heart sank as he realized she probably didn’t need his help anymore, and just when he’d decided it would be okay to get to know her a little better. Well, that was the story of his life—one missed opportunity after the next.

Charlie bent down beside him. “I took your advice.”

He shot her a confused expression.

“There was a marathon of The Dog Whisperer on last night.”

“Seems like it really helped. He’s doing much better today.” Ethan gave Rugby a final pat on the head and stood. “Hey, you might not need another lesson, after all.”

Charlie looked uncharacteristically shy as she stumbled over her words. “Well, I wouldn’t say we don’t need the help anymore. We’re still having a really hard time with heel.”

“So do you wanna head outside for a walk now?”

She blushed. “Later. First I thought we could have some lunch. It is that time, after all, and I make a mean chicken salad.”

“Sounds great.” Ethan smiled, glad she wanted him around after what a colossal ass he’d been on both their previous meetings.

They moved to the kitchen where Charlie poured them both oversized glasses of strawberry lemonade, then moved to dice up some chicken breasts, onions, and celery.

“The secret ingredient is capers,” she confessed, pulling a jar full of odd-looking little green balls from the fridge.

“This is really good,” Ethan exclaimed as he sucked down a second glass of lemonade.

“My mom stayed at home with me and my sister. Sometimes, I think she was so bored out of her mind, she had no choice but to spend the whole day in the kitchen.”

“I wish my mom would’ve stayed at home when I was little. Instead, she had to commute an hour each day, weekends too.”

Charlie squeezed the quarter of a lemon into the mixture and stirred the salad with a wooden spoon. “Oh? What does she do?”

“Torts lawyer. I guess that’s a big part of why I became an actuary. I watched as all these stupid and entirely preventable cases came her way, and thought wouldn’t it be better to avoid the incident altogether rather than wasting thousands—sometimes millions—of dollars trying to clean up after the fact?

“Makes sense.” She wiped a tear from her eye as she diced the last of the onion. “Kind of funny, if you think about it. You became exactly like your mom, and I’ve been living my whole life with the express purpose of being nothing like mine.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m exactly like her.” Ethan ran his hands over the granite counter top. “I’m still a guy, after all.”

“Uh-huh.” Her smirk seemed flirtatious rather than judgmental.

“And what’s so wrong with being a homemaker? That’s the politically correct term these days, right?”

Charlie shrugged as she scraped a glop of Miracle Whip from the jar and plopped it into the giant mixing bowl. “Nothing’s wrong with it for those who choose to live their lives that way. But me? Never.” She sighed and returned to mixing the salad, this time more vigorously than before. “My mom always seemed so bored, like the greatest thing she could do in life was play second fiddle to me, Mandy, and Dad. Who wants to do that? Life is for the living, and I intend to seize every second of mine.”

“So you became a teacher not out of any great calling, but because you wanted summers off?” He was being judgmental again—not the best way to make friends.

Charlie didn’t seem to mind his question. In fact, this topic brought fire to her eyes, and he liked that.

“Summer vacations are a huge perk, but no. I love teaching. Gives me an excuse to share my love of reading with others. And, when I can, I travel. Like this summer, I toured Italy for two weeks, and I also took a mini vacation down to San Francisco. When I ran out of money, I was able to travel through the pages of one great book after the next. It’s not such a bad life, you know.”

“I didn’t say it was bad. It sounds great, actually.”

“Yup.” She sliced through a loaf of asiago bread.

He didn’t want this conversation to end. Charlie was opening up to him so beautifully rather than trying to ask him questions about his life—the answers to which made him come across as boring.

“Sometimes, I think I might work too much. Like my whole life is about my job.”

She turned away from the counter and pointed her bread knife in his direction. “Because you’re afraid.”

“No, not afraid. A workaholic, maybe, but not afraid.”

“You seemed pretty afraid when Rugby and I left the trail yesterday.”

“That’s different. I was trying to—”

“You were afraid.” She set the knife down on the counter and pivoted to face him head on now.

He didn’t know what to say, but, luckily, Charlie hadn’t finished speaking yet.

“There’s no point in being afraid of life. When I want something, I make it happen. I don’t spend forever agonizing over the pros and cons, trying to convince myself I shouldn’t want what I want. I just… do it.”

Wait, what’s that expression in her eyes? Is she…?

Ethan didn’t have long to figure out the meaning behind her glance, because in an instant Charlie had cleared the gap between them and was leaning over the counter, pressing her lips to his.

His mind raced with a million thoughts, but none of them was “should we be doing this?” Kissing Charlie—or rather allowing her to kiss him—felt so… right.

Her lips parted, and she reached around to run a hand through his hair. When she gave a little tug, his erection swelled and pressed against the zipper of his jeans.

God, this was hot.

Without thinking, he cupped her face in his hands and pulled her closer until she was on top of the counter, and he was standing, her breasts pressed into his upper chest as she kissed him from above.

WOOF! WOOF! YIP!

Charlie pulled away and peered past him toward the other side of the house. “The dogs.”

Ethan turned, too, and saw Tuck and Rugby whimpering and scratching at the door.

She hopped off the counter and let the dogs back in, and just like that, the moment ended.

  Click here to download the entire book: Darby Davenport’s Walk Away with Me (A Loving Nature Novella)>>>

Kindle Nation Bargain Book Alert: Love a Good Mystery or Suspense? Be Sure to Check Out A GUILTY MIND – The Psychological Suspense with 4.9 Stars & Only $2.99 on Kindle!

A Guilty Mind

by Kellie Larsen Murphy

4.9 stars – 32 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

To the outside world , George Vandenberg has it all–wealth, social standing, and a beautiful wife and family. But George is teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown, haunted by the memory of the woman he once loved and “accidentally” killed.

When his psychiatrist turns up dead, brutally stabbed to death in his office, George emerges as the primary suspect even as he becomes a target himself. To prove his innocence, George must face his doubting wife, an unyielding detective determined to find the truth, and the past he’s been unable to forget.

Reviews

“I equate it to Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl, but an easier, more intriguing read.” Laura Bell, Amazon Reader

“A Guilty Mind is every murder mystery reader’s delight. The book’s subtle foreshadowing brings out the detective in ALL of us. But read carefully because Kellie Larsen Murphy can dish out the Red herrings as well as Agatha Christie.” M.C.V. Egan, Author of Bridge of Deaths

“At various junctures, I thought I had this mystery figured out only to be blown away by the ending. For those with an affinity for the Richmond-DC corridor, so much the better… Read it, enjoy it, tell a friend.” Chris G., Amazon Reader

About The Author

Kellie Larsen Murphy is a freelance writer who has worked in both the banking and publishing industries. In recent years, she has written on a variety of subjects and been featured frequently in several mid-Atlantic magazines. Her debut novel, A Guilty Mind, is the first in a series featuring Detective Michael Cancini. The second in the series, Stay of Execution, will be available in 2013. Kellie lives in Richmond, Virginia, with her husband, four children, and two dogs. She would be happy to hear from readers through her website, www.kellielarsenmurphy.com.
(This is a sponsored post.)

Kindle Daily Deals For Tuesday, Apr. 23 – New Bestsellers, Including Sara Shepard’s Pretty Little Liars, All at Bargain Prices! plus Pardu Ponnapalli’s Just a Bunch of Crazy Ideas

But first, a word from … Today’s Sponsor

Just a Bunch of Crazy Ideas

by Pardu Ponnapalli

4.6 stars – 48 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

This is the 3rd edition of this book. The 3rd edition contains an additional chapter on Japan, the tsunami and nuclear reactor safety. This book is about thoughts and ideas on a wide range of subjects. The topics include building a space elevator, new approaches to space travel, Star Trek reboot themes, ideas for energy conservation, what to do about our federal debt, modifying the game of chess and others. The following provides a quick overview of the chapters. Note that a Spanish edition of this book is available at Amazon sites (Solo un monton de Ideas Locas) :

Chapter 1 Space Elevator
Chaper 2 Alternative Energies and Energy Conservation
Chapter 3 More Thoughts on Energy Conservation
Chapter 4 Gas Stations and filling up
Chapter 5 Luggage and Airplanes
Chapter 6 Thoughts on Chess
Chapter 7 Thoughts on Ice Hockey
Chapter 8 Thoughts on Cat Litter
Chapter 9 Our National Debt and Defecit
Chapter 10 I am overweight and so are most Americans
Chapter 11 Star Trek and Reboot
Chapter 12 Thoughts about Laptops
Chapter 13 Thoughts about Space Exploration
Chapter 14 Thoughts on the Stock Market
Chapter 15 Automatic Inform Systems for IT Workers
Chapter 16 Hikers who hurt themselves
Chapter 17 How to improve dishwashers
Chapter 18 Japan, the tsunami and nuclear reactor safety

Reviews
“Pardu S. Ponnapalli, an IT specialist with a doctorate in physics, has devised ingenious and potentially world-changing ways to improve things. Many of Ponnapalli’s essays are intellectually challenging, short, well written and entertaining.” – Patty Sutherland, Foreword Clarion Review June 2011

“Ponnapalli’s crazy (impulsive, but fun and thought provoking) ideas cover some timely and popular topics; U.S debt and defecit, overweight, stock market, space exploration, alternative energies, cat litter and more. The book is easy to read.” – Recommended & Reviewed in The Mindquest Review of Books, by Lightword Publishing, August 2011

“The essays were well-written and mostly thought through. Based on his personal experience, they were enlightening and at times, laughable. More importantly, they make the reader take the time to think about our future, ponder on the problems, and look for the solutions we need.” – Teri Davis, BestSellersWorld.com, July, 2011

“Some of my fondest memories of university were those informal gab sessions in the common room. Just a Bunch of Crazy Ideas reminds me of those times.”Just a Bunch of Crazy Ideas presents some good ideas and some not so good ideas. Take them as you will. Laugh at them or be inspired by them.” – Tami Brady, TCM Reviews, July 22, 2011
“The act of brainstorming can result in new ideas and surprising results. The author ends each chapter with the words, “Discuss and enjoy!” That is exactly what the reader of this “bunch of crazy ideas” will do.” – Libby Grandy, The US Review of Books

Each day’s Kindle Daily Deal is sponsored by one paid title on Kindle Nation. We encourage you to support our sponsors and thank you for considering them.

and now … Today’s Kindle Daily Deal!

Click on the image below

Screen Shot 2013-04-23 at 6.57.07 AM

Three Books in One — All for Just 99 Cents!

Don’t miss today’s Kindle Nation Daily eBook of the Day from KND Fave Mainak Dhar!

Alice in Deadland: The Complete Trilogy

by Mainak Dhar
<%title%>

 

4.3 stars – 38 Reviews
Or currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members Via the Kindle Lending Library
Text-to-Speech: Enabled

 

Here’s the set-up:
Now also available – Hunting The Snark, the latest adventure in the Alice in Deadland series.

Alice in Deadland was released in November 2011 and quickly became an Amazon.com bestseller, selling more than 50,000 copies in its first three months. It was followed by its sequel, ‘Through The Looking Glass’ and ‘Off With Their Heads’, the prequel to Alice in Deadland. Now, get all three novels in the Alice in Deadland Trilogy in one single omnibus edition and immerse yourself in this bestselling adventure.

Alice in Deadland

Civilization as we know it ended more than fifteen years ago, leaving as it’s legacy barren wastelands called the Deadland and a new terror for the humans who survived- hordes of undead Biters.

Fifteen year-old Alice has spent her entire life in the Deadland, her education consisting of how best to use guns and knives in the ongoing war for survival against the Biters. One day, Alice spots a Biter disappearing into a hole in the ground and follows it, in search of fabled underground Biter bases.

What Alice discovers there propels her into an action-packed adventure that changes her life and that of all humans in the Deadland forever. An adventure where she learns the terrible conspiracy behind the ruin of humanity, the truth behind the origin of the Biters, and the prophecy the mysterious Biter Queen believes Alice is destined to fulfill.

A prophecy based on the charred remains of the last book in the Deadland- a book called Alice in Wonderland.

Through The Looking Glass: Alice in Deadland Book II

More than two years have passed since Alice followed a Biter with bunny ears down a hole, triggering events that forever changed her life and that of everyone in the Deadland. The Red Guards have been fought to a standstill; Alice has restored some measure of peace between humans and Biters; and under Alice, humans have laid the foundations of the first large, organized community since The Rising- a city called Wonderland.

That peace is shattered in a series of vicious Biter attacks and Alice finds herself shunned by the very people she helped liberate. Now she must re-enter the Deadland to unravel this new conspiracy that threatens Wonderland. Doing so will mean coming face to face with her most deadly adversary ever- the Red Queen.

Off With Their Heads: The Prequel to Alice in Deadland

A few months before Alice was born and fifteen years before the dramatic events depicted in Alice in Deadland, there was The Rising. A few days that destroyed human civilization as we know it, reducing much of the world to a radioactive wasteland teeming with hordes of undead Biters and controlled by a shadowy Central Committee.

Off With Their Heads brings to life the final harrowing days of The Rising through four shorts, each depicting events through the eyes of one pivotal character in the Alice in Deadland series. See how Dr. Protima became the Queen of the Biters; feel the pain of a young man’s sacrifice as he becomes the bunny-eared Biter whom Alice later follows down a hole; follow the rise of Chen from a conflicted young Chinese Army officer to a General in the Red Guards; and finally share in the dramatic escape of Alice’s parents from a city overrun by Biters.

More About the Author

Mainak Dhar

Biography

Mainak Dhar is a cubicle dweller by day and author by night. His first `published’ work was a stapled collection of Maths solutions and poems (he figured nobody would pay for his poems alone) he sold to his classmates in Grade 7, and spent the proceeds on ice cream and comics. Mainak was a bestselling author in his native India with titles published by major houses like Penguin and Random House and with one of his novels (Herogiri) being made into a major motion picture. In early 2011, he began to use Amazon to reach international readers through his ebooks and became one of the leading independent authors in the world with more than 100,000 books sold in his first year. He has thirteen books to his credit including the bestselling Alice in Deadland trilogy. Learn more about him and contact him at mainakdhar.com.

Amazon Author Rankbeta

#73 in Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Horror
* * *

And here, in the comfort of your own browser, is your free sample of Alice in Deadland: The Complete Trilogy by Mainak Dhar:

Free Thriller of The Week Excerpt Featuring M.H. Burton’s Mixed Foursome (The Zach Roper Golf Mysteries volumes 1-4)

On Friday we announced that M.H. Burton’s Mixed Foursome (The Zach Roper Golf Mysteries volumes 1-4) is our Thriller of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the thriller, mystery, and suspense categories: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Thriller excerpt:

Or currently FREE for Amazon Prime Members Via the Kindle Lending Library
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:
Zach Roper is on the ball, and on the case. Murder seems to follow the retired Seattle police detective as he struggles to win a berth on the PGA Champions Tour. Will he solve the crime? Will he make the cut? Read on….
“Mixed Foursome” includes 4 of Zach’s cases-
1. “Murder in the Deep Rough-A corpse in the woods on number four attracts Zach’s attention before the first ball is teed.
2. “Murder on the 19th Hole”-This time it’s a Thai ‘princess’ who attracts his attention. The corpse shows up later.
3. “Murder Takes a Mulligan”-Zach and the ‘princess’ team up for golf and deadly politics in Thailand.
4. “Murder Goes to the Green”-Zach and the ‘princess’ again out to hustle a few bucks from the super-rich on the golf course, when the richest of the them all goes missing

And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free excerpt:

Murder on the 19th Hole

 

 

  1. 1.              An Invitation

 

It was nearly more than two years since Zach Roper declared his retirement from detective work in order to concentrate on making it as a professional golfer.  While he had stuck to his promise he had been unable to fully realize his aspiration.  He had neither made the Champions Tour as intended nor completely failed to make it.  He was on a sort of Champions Tour taxi squad, called at a few days’ notice to fill in for someone with a wrenched knee, a bad back, or an extra thump in their heartbeat that required hospital observation.  Since this was an over-50 crowd fill-ins were often needed and he had answered the call a dozen and a half times during the last two seasons with decidedly mixed results.  A few top-twenty finishes which had earned him return invitations, dozen modest paychecks, and several embarrassing dead last finishes.

 

In addition there were a number of second-string events.  Smaller cities, much smaller purses, like the November tournament in Tucson Les Bowman had got him after he won the Northland Invitational at Iron Ridge.  Alas, no more $200,000 paydays!  Iron Ridge had not turned out to be the launch pad to a stellar career.  It looked increasingly like it was a flash in the pan.

 

‘I may be down, but I’m not quite out yet.  I’ve got Les’ Tucson thing again this November, my third straight appearance, 5th place and $35,000 last year, but more than two months away and nothing scheduled until then.’  he winced.

 

He climbed down off the little Fordson tractor leaving it and the gang-mower it had been towing to cool down in the shade of a big old pine.  Shading his eyes with his right hand he gazed down the neatly trimmed fairway to the small, heavily bunkered green 200 yards away.  ‘Almost as good as the real thing’ He thought ‘I’ve got it just about the way I want it.  Now I may finally be able to stop all this mowing and get in a little practice on my one-hole personal golf course.  Three-hole, really, the same green approached from three different directions, my own innovation.  Maybe I should take up golf course design’.

 

He had just grabbed an ice-cold beer from the fridge and collapsed onto the teak bench on the cabin’s back porch when the phone rang.  Wearily he rose to answer it.

 

“Zach, is that you?  Been trying to get you but your cell doesn’t seem to work…Les Bowman here.”

 

“Oh, Les, sorry, you’ve got to use my land line.  No bars here on this part of San Juan Island.  The ridge behind my cabin blocks the signal.  Hope you haven’t been trying too long.”

 

“Not long.  Glad I got you.  I’ll have to make a note about the phone for the future.”

 

“Did I hear you say future?  Could I have one?  In golf, that is.  It has been a pretty tough year and I’ve had way too much time to think about it.”

 

“You’re not the only one.  I’ve had a rotten year too.  Needed my second knee replaced so I had it done last February.  First one went super.  This one didn’t.  I’m still limping around six months later, whole season busted.”

 

“Sorry about that, Les.  I shouldn’t have been so selfish.  Did you get my ‘Get Well’ card and emails?”

 

“Yeah, but the ‘get well’ part didn’t work, however, Zach, I’ve got a new groove now, at least for one shot, promoting a tournament!  You won’t be able to guess where.”

 

“Ahh…Timbuktu?  Pyongyang?”

 

“Not far off.  Iron Ridge!”

 

“Did I hear that right?, The ‘Iron Ridge’ in Minnesota?  Or is there more than one?”

 

“The Iron Ridge in Minnesota.”

 

“I thought it was bankrupt, closed, kaput.  What happened?”

 

“A lot, a whole hell of a lot, auctioned off at a St. Louis County Sheriff’s Sale for back taxes, bought by a couple of Minnesota buddies of mine with more money than sense, reclaimed from the bush and reopened this year.”

 

“And the Northland Invitational Tournament revived?”

 

“Not exactly, a “Battle of the Sexes” Tournament in its place and you are invited.  You gotta’ come.  You’re the defending champion, sort of.”

 

“When?, and what the devil is a “Battle of the Sexes” Tournament?”

 

“The ‘when’ is the easy part, third week of September, three days, the 18th through the 20th.  Can you come?”

 

“Ahem, let me check my busy schedule…ahhh…yes.”

 

“OK, I’m putting you down.  Come as early as you want.  Tomorrow would be all right with me.  Oh, and the ‘sexes’ part.  You know the Ryder Cup format?”

 

“Sure, two teams, match play…one ball, two ball, head-to-head singles on the final day.  Is that it?”

 

“Right on.  Same as the Ryder Cup, but instead of US versus World, guys versus gals.”

 

“You’re kidding, is that anything anyone would want to watch?”

 

“Don’t know, but we’re going to find out, got some big names, especially on the women’s side.”

 

“Oh, I get it, Billie Jean King versus that old fart, Bobby Riggs, except golf.”

 

“Don’t be such a male chauvinist pig, Zach.  There are some big names on the men’s side too, though the men’s lineup is a bit longer in the tooth.  We’re taking strictly over-50 for the men, over-40 for the ladies.  They don’t have a Senior Tour so it was easier to get bigger names.”

 

“Is there any kind of handicapping involved?”

 

“None, men play off the longest of the Pro tees and women off the regular women’s tees, a one hundred yard difference on most of the long holes.”

 

“Sounds fair, Black Course I suppose.  That would give them quite an advantage, better angles on some of those narrow fairways, but hell, from close to the green they’re as good as we are, maybe better.”

 

“My thinking entirely, and it is the Black Course.  We’ve made it even tougher than it was the last time you played it.”

 

“Names, you said, so name ’em…gals first.  I can’t say I ever paid all that much attention to the LPGA, but maybe I’ll remember a few.”

 

“How about Judy Sanchez?”

 

“Oh, yeah, the fiery Latina with the double-wide butt, she could really smack ’em.  Won just about everything in sight, didn’t she?  Now that’s a big name.”

 

“Sure is, but a non-playing team captain like me.  I’m out due to bad knees, Judy due to excess poundage.”

 

“Too fat!, they always said she was too fat, bad for the image of the Ladies tour, now that’s sexist!  Good thing a slim waistline was never required on the Men’s tour.”

 

“Especially the Champions Tour.” laughed Les.

 

“Who else?”

 

“Ginger Schwartz.”

 

“Boy, that’s going back a long way.  She must be seventy.  Didn’t she play with Sam Snead and Bobby Jones?  What did they call her?  Something like ‘Miss Everything, three times over’?”

 

“Not that far back, Zach.  She’s only two years older that I am, and yes, she did win every LPGA tournament in her day, at least three times, and she’s still got game, doesn’t look a day older than she did when she retired fifteen years ago.”

 

“That I can believe, tall, close to six foot as I remember, and homely, she looked like one of those Depression-era photos of Okie migrants.”

 

“Not that bad, Zach, though she is from Oklahoma.  Still tall and thin, but with a backbone made of steel and a long smooth powerful swing.  You want eye candy, Zach?  We’ve got Pam Hamilton!”

 

“Oh, wow, the blond bombshell.  How could I forget her!, the big tits, the marvelous ass, and the signature pony-tail, enough to give a man a wet dream both coming and going.”

 

“You’re awful, Zach.  You’re going to have to watch your language around these girls.  They’re all as sharp with their tongues as they are with their clubs.”

 

“And you’re going to have your hands full Judy Sanchez.  She’s the sharpest of the lot.”

 

“That’s what the TV folks are hoping.  I just hope I can hold my own against her.”

 

“Any more big names?”

 

“Ulrika Swanson.”

 

“Another home run, but she can hardly be forty, didn’t play that long.  Did she even play ten years?”

 

“Not quite, only nine starting at age 20, didn’t make much of a splash until she was 24, then she won everything there was for four or five years and returned to her native Sweden under a cloud.  Hasn’t played publicly since, so far as I know, but she’s got an agent in Stockholm and he says she’s coming.  We’re keeping our fingers crossed.”

 

“You were right about the big names, Les, some of the biggest.  What about the guys?”

 

“Not quite so big.  Colin Guthrie, Dave Dekalb, Texas Tommy Talbot.”

 

“You’re right, a little underwhelming.  Well, old Colin won the British Open and a lot of tournaments in Europe.  Texas Tommy won at least a dozen times on the PGA tour, though never a major as I recall.  And Dave, well, he was a big name, but more as a baseball player than as a golfer.  So how many are there on each team?”

 

“Ten on a team, doubles the first two days.  Four teams each.  Two players sit out on each side, then one-on-one on Sunday.  Eight matches, again two sit out, one point for a win, half-a-point for a drawn match.  Sixteen points total.  $75,000 for playing, win or lose.  Thought you’d like that.  $15,000 for each point you win, another $15,000 for being on the winning team.”

 

“That’s big bucks for match play!”

 

“Pretty big, the sponsors are taking a real roll of the dice here, new format, not the top names, especially on the men’s side, and we don’t know what kind of attention the gals will attract.  It’s been a long time since most of them have been in the headlines.”

 

“So who are the sponsors?”

 

“Superior Mutual Funds, a big outfit in the upper Midwest, and Jean Ducharme, the French cosmetics giant, they’re both looking to give themselves a bigger footprint in the world market.  The Golf Channel is carrying us all three days.  They’re very enthusiastic.  Think it could bring some much-needed sex appeal and pizazz to the staid old game of golf.”

 

“I hope it does, and you can count me in as one of the ‘little names’.  I’ll be out in a week to do some practicing.  I’m looking forward to returning to good old Iron Ridge.”

 

 

 

  1. 2.              Leaving Home:

 

 

Zach was in a light-hearted mood as he de-pressurized the water system and zipped-up the little San Juan Island cabin for yet another of his forays into the land of golf.  ‘Some day I’m going to come back here and stay for more than two weeks’  he thought to himself  ‘Maybe for the rest of my life if my game doesn’t improve, but what would be so bad about that?  A small but cozy place, no frills, only the essentials of life, that’s my style.  Live on my Seattle PD pension.  That wouldn’t be so bad, someday, but not yet.’.

 

He wheeled the Dodge Caravan down his long narrow driveway and found his one-lane drive blocked by a Volvo station wagon coming in the other direction.  An overdressed, somewhat overweight, young woman got out and made her way as briskly to his car door as her high heels and the poor, lumpy quality of the locally-dug gravel would permit.

 

“Are you Mr. Zachary Roper?” she asked brightly.

 

“I am, and I’m in somewhat of a hurry.  Don’t want to miss the ferry to Anacortes.”  Zach frowned.

 

“Just a moment of your time, Mr. Roper, I’m Sally Wainright, Inter-Island Realty, I understand you own this forty acre tract of land.”

 

“Congratulations, Miz Wainwright, you know how to read a San Juan County plat-book.  You and a dozen others of your tribe who have been up here these last two or three years.  No I don’t want to sell it.  Not all of it.  Not part of it.  Not any of it.  Not now.  Not ever.  Does that answer your questions?”

 

“Well, Mr. Roper…uhh…I just wanted to let you know …uhh…that with island property in as great a demand as it currently is…”

 

“No, Miz Wainright.  I don’t want to know about the current demand for island property.  You see, Miz Wainright, I am a very wealthy and extremely eccentric professional golfer.  I live in my own little 40-acre fantasy world, sort of like Michael Jackson, and I don’t want to see that world disturbed.  So remove your person and your fricking Volvo before you discover that in addition to being eccentric, I am also prone to acts of irrational violence.”

 

She retreated quickly breaking a heel and leaving the shoe behind.  The Volvo zigzagged back down the driveway in reverse bouncing in and out of the roadside ditch several times as Zach pursued in his Caravan never more than a few feet from her front bumper.  ‘I don’t think that one will be back again.’ he mused with some satisfaction. ‘

 

He was late for the inter-island ferry but he didn’t mind that much.  He quaffed a couple of draft beers at the faux Irish brew pub that had a deck overlooking snug little Friday Harbor.  It was after Labor Day so the tourist crush was over.  ‘Too bad I’m leaving.  The island will be so pleasant now that the crowds are gone.’  The late ferry slipped in and whisked him away to Anacortes as the sun set over the Pacific.  ‘Tomorrow morning it will be off across the Cascades, the Rockies, through Glacier Park and then on across the vast prairies to the western edge of the North woods, to Iron Ridge Country Club and the ‘Battle of the Sexes’.’

 

As he drove through lake-dotted northern Minnesota Roper began thinking about what he might find when he reached Iron Ridge.  True he had been back to Minnesota twice to appear as a witness in two of the six trials spawned by his investigative work there two years earlier.  He wondered what had happened to some of those people during the 16 months since his last contact.  He knew that Jake Aslesen, convicted for hiring the murder of  Iron Ridge owner Al Smith, plus attempted murder, and embezzlement of $950,000 in Iron Ridge funds, was in federal prison and would probably stay there for the rest of his natural life.  He knew that Doug Westerling, Al Smith’s partner, had been convicted of fraud and grand theft and had already served out his one-year sentence.  Was his co-conspirator in investigation, Eric Wang, still a St. Louis County Sheriff’s Deputy?  He hoped not.  Eric was too good and too bright for such a low-powered job.   Was Al’s widowed wife Diana Smith clean and sober?  Or even one of the two?  Was Beau Jacobs still alive?  He must be, he was enough of a celebrity that his death would  have gotten at least some public notice, and how about the hired killers?, Erlandson and Flores.  He knew they had been tried and found guilty, but nothing beyond that.

 

 

  1. 3.              Return to Iron Ridge:

 

 

He saw few changes as he rolled into the parking lot.  Nothing he could see to the course from his vantage point.  The huge hotel that perched atop the ridge behind the course appeared to be abandoned.  Les Bowman came out to greet him even before he reached the information desk.

 

“Nothing has changed around here from what I can see, Les, except the hotel.  It looks pretty grim.”

 

“It’s closed, wasn’t part of our deal.  We only bought the course and the clubhouse.  Nobody wants it.  Didn’t you see the new hotel the Ojibway built as a part of their casino complex in town?”

 

“No, I didn’t come that way, came straight from the west.”

 

“Not as fancy as the old hotel was in its heyday but plenty of rooms for golfers and gamblers, and, since we’re no longer aiming for the super-rich, it’ll do.”

 

“…And the ski operation?”

 

“Still hanging fire, it didn’t sell at the auction but the Ojibway are thinking of taking it over once they get their casino running smoothly.”

 

“So then a lot has changed around here.”

 

“Some has, out on the course too, you can’t see it from here, some additional bunkers, nasty ones, on the Black, some new plantings blocking off approaches that were too easy.”

 

“Too easy?, I don’t remember anything too easy on the Black.

 

“Any of your ‘big names’ here yet?  Or am I the first.” laughed Roper.

 

“Most of the gals are here already.  You’ll meet them tonight.  They’re having a get-together.  It has been years since many of them have played in any kind of money competition.  They say they came early to work on their games, but I think the socializing is more important to them than the golf.  Ulrika Swanson is the only one of the big names missing.  I’m still holding my breath on her.  Not many of the guys yet.  Most of the big names are out at Philadelphia and won’t be coming in until that tournament is over, but a few of…shall we say the lesser names are around.”

 

“Like me.” smiled Roper “So how’s the knee?”

 

“Better, as long as the weather stays warm.”

 

“How’s Judy?”

 

“Delightful, you’ll meet her tonight, if not sooner.  She’s all over the place, constantly in motion.”

 

“I thought you said she was slowed by…uhh..”

 

“Not so as you would notice.  Claims she can’t see the ball because her belly sticks out too far, but I don’t believe it.  The Golf Channel guys think they may tape us playing a few holes together as part of a promotional package and I think we’re both up to it.”

 

 

  1. 4.              Party Time

 

 

Roper practiced that afternoon.  The party that night was a noisy, animated bash.  The liquor flowed freely enough to loosen up the predominantly female crowd, not that they needed that much loosening.  Most stayed reasonably sober, though the beauteous Pam Hamilton did appear to be a bit unsteady before the festivities ended.  Roper remained silent throughout.  Taking it all in, sharing in their good humor though not actively participating in it.  It was obvious that no one knew who he was.  Why should they?  He knew who most of the women were and he was impressed, a very handsome, in many cases even sexy-looking assembly, and not just Pam Hamilton, a few inches broader in all directions but still a knockout.  Even Judy Sanchez looked gorgeous.  A good forty pounds heavier than she had been during the fattest of her playing days, but still a charmer with a beautiful face, broad curves, a flirty, girlish attitude and a razor-sharp wit.

 

There were some of the women Roper didn’t know, however.  One in particular intrigued him.  She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he had seen her before.

 

“Do you know who that is?  Over there in the far corner next to Ginger Schwartz, the little Asian chick?”  He asked Craig Levander, a fellow Champions Tour taxi squadder and one of the few men he knew.

 

“Beats the hell out of me, the gals all call her ‘princess’ or ‘the princess’.  They all seem to know her.  At least the older ones do.”

 

“I’m not going to rest until I find out who she is.  She just looks interesting, time to put on my detective hat.  It shouldn’t take me long.”

 

 

  1. 5.              Meeting the Princess

 

 

It didn’t take long at all.  The very next morning Roper found her out on the terrace having breakfast with the luscious Pam Hamilton, both of them chowing down with unladylike enthusiasm.  He had only a cup of black coffee in hand, was going to drink it before sampling the breakfast buffet, decided he couldn’t pass up such a great opportunity.

 

“Mind if I sit down for a minute?”

 

“Not at all.  You’re not interrupting our conversation as we’re too busy stuffing our faces.” beamed Pam.  “The Princess” eyed Roper coolly but said nothing.

 

“I’m a great admirer of yours, your golf , that is,  Miss Hamilton” Roper started unsteadily.  “You were a great star while I was a Seattle PD flatfoot fantasizing that I could make it on the Pro tour.  Now I’m a retired flatfoot who has made it about half way onto the Pro tour.”

 

“Admire as much of me as you like, golf or otherwise, Mr….ahh.”

 

“Roper, Zach Roper.”

 

“The golfing detective,” purred the Princess “I read all about you.  You even made the news in Thailand.  Well, this is a pleasure, though you clearly don’t have a clue as to who I am, big sister Pam, why don’t you formally introduce me to this nice sexy man.”

 

“Wow, your juices are really flowing for such an early hour, Princess. Mr Zach Roper, may I introduce Sutsada Nammontree  AKA ‘Sister Soo’,  AKA ‘The Thai Princess’, the most famous Thai woman golfer never to win an LPGA event in 14 years on the tour.”

 

“Many thanks for your predictably insulting introduction Sister Pammy, but alas it’s all true.  I played 14 years and never won a thing, never finished better than third, but like a good dutiful Thai woman I saved all my money and went back home when the LPGA decided that I had lost my looks…and lived happily ever after, until now, when the prospect of hard cash has lured me out of retirement.”

 

“Charmed I’m sure” Roper replied “A real Thai princess, that’s a first for me.”

 

Both Pam and the Princess exploded in laughter at his remark scattering scrambled eggs and a half-eaten strip of bacon onto the clear glass tabletop.

 

“Have I said something wrong?” asked a concerned Roper.

 

“No, not really.” coughed Pam wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.  “You tell him, Princess.  It’s your story.”

 

“Only in my girlish dreams was I ever a princess.  A princess who grew up in a small poor village with the smell of pig shit in her nostrils, some princess” her laugh had a clear bell-like quality to it.  “My daddy ran the local rice mill and the miller gets to keep the rice husks, which pigs love.  So millers always raise hogs, next to the rice mill, which was next to our house, a princess who learned to slop hogs as soon as she could walk and  long before she ever swung a golf club.”

 

“So how did you ever come to be called ‘the Princess’?  And how did you ever learn how to play golf?”

 

“The first part is easy.  I had an agent, he was also my husband for a while, he brought me to the States and helped get me onto the LPGA tour.  He thought being a ‘Thai Princess’ would be good public relations.  He was right, they ate it up.  As for golf, that’s a more complicated story.  My family had some money.  Not a lot, but enough to send me to a girl’s school in Chieng Mai run by some American Methodist Missionaries.  There I learned English, Christianity, and ladylike behavior.  I kept the English and ditched the rest.  That English was enough to get me into Chieng Mai University where I was studying to be a school teacher, something I’m sure I would have been a complete failure at, when my ‘Prince’ arrived…and he was a real Prince… a titled descendant of the kings of Chieng Mai who ruled the small, but prosperous, kingdom until 1824 when it was absorbed into Siam, which later became Thailand.  A real Cinderella story, except for one small detail, he already had a wife, a nice boring blue-blooded one.  What he wanted was a mistress.  Mistress was a move up for me so I took it.  He was an avid golfer so he taught me.  Soon I could beat the pants off him.  He used to take me to some of Thailand’s aristocratic watering holes like Hua Hin, on the sea shore, where the King has one of his palaces and there’s a dandy golf course.  He even set me up there as his ‘kept woman’, hundreds of miles away from Chieng Mai so I wouldn’t embarrass him.  He would come down every month or so ‘on business’.  I hung out at the Country Club.  Played a lot of golf and drank like a fish when I wasn’t playing, got so good that I started hustling some of the club members.  I had great confidence in my game.  I could even beat them when I was drunk, so long as they were drunker.  Then a new man came into my life, an American golfer, playing the Asian tour and in Hua Hin for a tournament.  He thought he was good enough to make the PGA.  He though I was pretty hot too, both on and off the course.  I married him and he brought me to the States.  He never did make it onto the PGA tour, but I made it onto the LPGA with his help.  My Pro career was better than our marriage which eventually broke up.  I sobered up, more or less.  He drank too much, bounced around as a club pro.  I don’t know where he is now.  We had a daughter.  I sent her to Thailand for my parents to raise after our breakup.  I sent money and kept playing the LPGA as long as they would have me.  My daughter is 20 now and I’m back here in the States for the first time in 14 years, enjoying every minute of it, and we haven’t even started playing yet.”

 

Pam had been looking on with a sly grin on her face.  “I’m off to the driving range boys and girls.  My slice was terrible during yesterday’s practice round.  I’ve got to fix it before I go out again.”

 

“But Pam, we’re set for 9:15 on the Black.” the Princess interjected.

 

“Take Mr. Roper here along with you.  Maybe he can give you a few pointers, but before you go get him to eat a proper breakfast, and get seconds for yourself.  You’ll need a couple of extra pounds of fat to burn for energy once the serious golfing begins.  I’ve got my fat reserve already.”

 

‘I can’t believe how well this is working out’, thought Roper, the two of them chatted on.  Roper got himself a heaping plateful of breakfast and the Princess got herself a heaping plateful of crisp hash browns.

 

“I just love ’em, seems such a simple dish but you never get them in Thailand, great for my fat reserves.”

 

Roper nodded smilingly.  None of the Princess’s fat reserves were in evidence and he was sure that it would take more than a heaping plateful of hash browns before they made so much as a cameo appearance.

 

“By the way, what should I call you?  You can call me Zach.”

 

“OK, Tsaak”  she pronounced the ‘a’  of ‘Zach’ as an ‘ah’ and her Z’s with a fuzzy half ‘s’ sound and a slight wrinkling of her snubbed nose which showed that she was trying hard to mimic him. ”You can call me anything you like.  I’m not particular.”

 

“Then I’ll call you ‘Princess’ if you don’t mind.  In view of the great story of what an un-princess like princess you are.”

 

“Glad you liked the story.”

 

“I like a lot more than the story.”

 

She didn’t reply but returned a look that said ‘the same goes for me too’, or at least that’s what Roper thought it said.

 

 

  1. 6.              The Princess Comes out Swinging:

 

 

Just before 9:00 they started for the tee.  “Want to take a cart?” asked Roper.

 

“No, I always walk unless I’m made to do otherwise.”

 

“Me too, a woman after my own heart.”

 

Roper had sent a decent shot down the middle of the fairway and was now observing the Princess on the Ladies tee.  She was all business and concentration.  Carefully aligning herself, taking only a single practice swing without full extension.  Then the real thing, and what a beautiful sight it was.  Back-swing coiling around her limber body until she nearly hit herself in the butt with the club head, then uncoiling, sweeping forward, a quick snap of her hips as club struck ball, continuing its forward arc in a follow through that didn’t end until the club head had made a complete circuit on its axis.

 

“Did you see where my ball went, Tsaak?  I lost it in the sun.”

 

“No” he said blushing.  He would have added ‘What ball?  I was too busy watching your marvelous swing and your amazing little body’ if he had been telling the truth.  “I’m sure it’s right down the middle, and long, very long.  What a great…ahh…swing you have Princess.”

 

It was only the first of many great swings Roper witnessed that day including one from behind where he got to see how that ball striking hip snap wiggled her cute little ass.  His game looked crude and clumsy next to hers.  It was all he could do to keep up with her.  They both finished with even par 72s.

 

“Not bad for the first time out.” said Roper.  “Should we sign up for another practice round or..?”

 

“You sign us up for tomorrow morning, the earlier the better.  I love to play in the early morning.”

 

“So do I.  Well then, Princess.  How serious are you about golf?  Do you think we could take the afternoon off to do a little sight-seeing.  I know this area pretty well.  I could be your tour guide.”

 

“Sure, let’s do it.  I’ve been practicing my tiny butt off for three days.  I need a break.  You’re the one who needs the practice.  Maybe you’re not serious enough about golf.” she smiled.

 

“Oh, I am.  It’s just that there are some other things that I’m also serious about.”

 

“Me too.” she said flashing him a sly, crinkly half-smile.

 

 

  1. 7.              On Tour:

 

 

Roper gave the Princess his backwoods tour including the now-infamous Crossroads Tap because she was interested in it.  They did not go inside.  They ended up with an improvised picnic at the abandoned CCC camp with hot dogs and wine chilled in the clear, cool lake.

 

“This is heaven.  Fourteen years I traveled around the States but I was never here, .never anything like it.  I saw a lot of hotel and motel rooms, and a lot of golf courses, but rarely had enough time to take in the sights.  I was so serious in those days, so determined to be a star.  That all seems so silly now and when Ulrika, she was my roomie for her first five years here, when her career took off and she started winning everything, that made me even more determined.  What good did it do me?  And what good did all that winning do Ulrika?”

 

“This isn’t the only scenic spot in the US, Princess.  I even own one, or at least 40 acres of one, out in Puget Sound, on San Juan Island.  Want to visit it?”

 

“You can show me the whole damn USA if you like.  No reason for me to hurry back to Thailand, but what about your Pro career?”

 

“It’s not as if it is going anywhere.  I’ve got to play a gig in Tucson in November and that’s it for this year.  Then maybe you can show me Thailand.  I’m as un-traveled as a person can be.  The only foreign countries I’ve ever been to are Canada and Mexico.  I don’t even have a passport.”

 

They built up the fire and talked all that evening and on into the night.  The two bottles of wine were long gone, but they couldn’t have been more sober.  It all ended with a chaste but delicious kiss at the door to her room in the Casino Hotel as noisy drunks brayed in the background.  ‘Chemistry there is, but no need to hurry it’ thought Roper.  The Princess though the same, but in Thai.

 

 

  1. 8.              Practice Practice:

 

 

Their early morning practice round the next day was more of the same which made it sound boring, but ‘the same’ was so exquisite.  No need to improve on it.  That afternoon they got to be part of the ‘gallery’ as Les and Judy squared off for their video-taped promo.  It was uproarious and ad-libbed.

 

Judy led off with “Well, you crippled old man.  I suppose you want a cart.”

 

“Yes, I thought we might need one, in case you can’t haul your ample derriere up some of those steep hills.”

 

“Don’t worry old fella’.  I can sprint up those hills.”

 

“That would be quite a sight, you sprinting.  Mind if I watch, from a cart, at the top of the hill.”

 

Finally on the tee with Les hitting a straight but short one,  “You looked a little stiff there, Les, guess I’ll have to show you what a fluid swing looks like.”

 

Later, with Judy driving this time, “That goes well beyond fluid, Judy.  I’ve never seen so many moving parts in a golf swing, why some of them are still moving.”

 

“Everyone’s a critic, but I out-drove you by forty yards.  This is my secret.  This is where the power comes from.” she said patting her ass.

 

“That’s what I remember you saying when that ‘power source’ of yours was half its current size.  If it’s true you should be hitting the ball 400 yards by now.”

 

“All you skinny guys are alike, can’t deal with a full-figured woman.”

 

“I’m sure I can find a way to deal with your full figure off the golf course.  I’m just not sure I can handle it on the course.”

 

“Pretty racy stuff.” giggled the Princess “for the Golf Channel.”

 

“They’re trying to expand their market share, think ‘Desperate Old Golf Pros’.” quipped Roper.

 

“If anyone could make that work it would be those two.  They’ve got chemistry.” smiled the Princess.

 

“I hope there’s enough of the ‘chemistry’ so the rest of us can get a taste.”  Roper replied.

 

“Oh, there is, there definitely is.” said the Princess with a twinkle in her black eyes.

 

 

  1. 9.              The Kickoff Dinner:

 

 

The taping was a great success and the day ended with a pre-Tournament dinner.  All the men were now there.  Roper noticed that he and the Princess were not the only “Battle of the Sexes” enemies that had already paired off.  Texas Tommy was squiring the beauteous Pam and Colin Guthrie and Ginger Schwartz cut an odd-looking duo with the squat Colin a good six inches shorter than Ginger even before she put on the towering high heels she was now wearing.  The last seats were just filling as a ripple went through the crowd.  Roper didn’t pick it up, but the Princess whispered in his ear.

 

“Ulrika’s here.  There she is, coming in now.  Oh, my.  She doesn’t look at all good, even from this distance.”

 

The room was hushed as the small dark-haired figure took her seat on the dais.  She was alone.  No escort.  After a brief silence the whispering began.

 

“I thought she was bigger than that.  She’s so tiny.” said Roper.

 

“She was bigger than that.  I think she has shrunk.  Is that possible?  And how can you shrink and get fatter at the same time?  Look at her, that roll of fat that jiggled when she walked in.  She’s flabby, never had so much as an ounce of fat on her body when she was playing on the tour.  She didn’t even have fat where us ladies normally have fat, even when we’re thin.  All muscle, like a body builder.  And those dark glasses, she never wore dark glasses dark in the old days.  I hate to think what she may be hiding.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Booze, it all adds up, the puffiness, the flab, the unhealthy color, the shades.  Normally she didn’t drink, wouldn’t touch a drop.  But every once in a while, when she got into one of her black moods, when she thought things were going badly, or when they really were going badly, I would find her in bed, passed out, with a bottle of vodka.  Or I’d get a call.  She would be in some bar.  Too drunk to make it back to wherever we were staying.  I usually organized the rescue expedition.  I wasn’t strong enough to carry her by myself if she had already passed out by the time I got there.”

 

“Sounds awful.”

 

“And that wasn’t the worst of it.  She had often hurt herself, falls, broken glass, or been hurt by someone else, usually a guy, though women beat on her too, and raped her, either rape or consensual sex while she was stewed to the gills.  It’s a fine line sometimes.  She always wanted to forget about it the next day.  Claimed she didn’t remember anything.  Maybe she didn’t.  Maybe she just didn’t want to.  I was a bad example for her as a roomie.  Drank more in a month than she did.  Always celebrated after a tournament whether I had anything to celebrate or not.”

 

“So, how often did she go off on these binges?”

 

“It varied.  She could go two or three months without an incident, then bang!, and always just for one night, never missed a tournament.  I never missed one either, though I showed up loaded a couple of times when I had afternoon tee offs.  Fell into a sand trap once while trying to squat down and line up a putt, that was embarrassing.  Fell flat on my face once while bending over trying to tee up my ball, but that was in a celebrity pro-am in Las Vegas and the three gals who were with me were all as smashed as I was.”

 

“And yet you didn’t have a drinking problem?”

 

“No, I didn’t have any problem drinking at all when I got in the mood for it.  I just didn’t ever go as far as Ulrika did, maybe still does.  If you saw her take a drink you would know that she wouldn’t stop until she passed out.”

 

“And when she started winning?  How could she be that good and still be a drunk?”

 

“I don’t know, but I did hear that they had a psychiatrist working with her and I know that she went for chemical dependency treatment at least once.”

 

“An interesting case.”

 

“Now you’re sounding like a detective, but it’s golf time Tsaaki.  No murders this go round.” she smiled “I will tell you one thing though.  She’s not going to win anything in the shape she’s in.  Lucky we can put two players on the bench each day, but I’m sure they’ll have to put her on the card at least one day.  I feel sorry for her.  It’ll be awful, just awful.”

 

Roper couldn’t get out of his detective mode.  He watched the small, dark, barely moving figure off and on during the dinner and the round of after dinner speeches.  When Judy introduced her she stood up and muttered a few words in a low weak voice that did not reach his ear.  He did notice the loose wobbly roll of fat around her middle that the Princess’s sharp feminine eye had previously detected.  The room cleared within minutes after the last speech ended.  The women, who had been animated and cheerful up to this point, were now subdued, as if chilled by a cold wind coming from the dark, spooky Swede.

 

 

  1. 10.           The Games Begin:

 

 

The “Battle of the Sexes” commenced with a brief ceremony during which the contending teams and their Captains were introduced and the ground rules were read out.  When the team pairings for one-ball were announced Roper was not surprised to find himself in the second foursome, nor that his partner was his fellow taxi squadder Craig Levander.  He was surprised to find that their female opponents were the Princess and Marcia Mullins.  ‘Some strings are surely being pulled’ he thought.  ‘Oh. Well this is the “Battle of the Sexes” so why not!’  Or maybe it was just for the visuals, they were looking for contrast.  Roper at 6-3 and the even taller Craig at 6-5 facing the two shortest women on the ‘enemy’ team, The Princess at 5-2 and Marcia, an inch shorter from the looks of her, stockier than the Princess, a nice curvaceous shape with well-rounded breasts and a broad butt, strong, compact and athletic.   As they waited for the first foursome to go off Roper sidled up next to the Princess and whispered in her ear.  “Who is Marcia Mullins?  She certainly looks good.  Has a great shape, haven’t seen her swing yet.”

 

“Oh, she’s as good as she looks, golfing too.  You’ll find out.” she smiled “She was my roomie for three years after Ulrika hit it big.  Just 19 when she turned Pro.  By that time my hubby/agent had my age down to 23, from an actual 33, so they bunked her in with me.  She had a short Pro career.  Played five years, then quit to make babies, tried for a comeback at 36, with limited success.  Just turned 40, the youngest on our team, was playing some Pro events as recently as last year so she’s not rusty like me, and she’s in marvelous shape.  Five kids and she’s slimmer than she was at 19.  Who’s the big guy?”

 

“Craig Levander, like me, an old fart trying to revive the athletic dreams of his youth, made a pile in computer software, sold his business and lit out for the Champions Tour.  Lots of beef and muscle, hits the ball a ton, wins driving contests, a good, though streaky, putter, short game is erratic.  Watch out, we could be dangerous with him booming ’em off the tee and me handling the approach shots.”

 

A few minutes later the “Battle of the Sexes” was joined.  Craig did not disappoint as he ripped one well over 300 yards off the first tee.  Then Marcia, with a compact, no non-sense swing that matched her taut little body punched one low and string-straight off the Ladies tee that pitched up just 20 yards short of Craig.  Roper lofted a nine iron onto the 430-yard par 4 leaving an uphill 12-footer which Craig sank easily.  Meanwhile the Princess using a ridiculous looking 25-year-old five wood plunked one on 15 feet past the hole.  Marcia’s putt rimmed the cup but didn’t fall.  The boys narrowly won the first hole.  The rest of the match was back and forth.  Neither team getting more than one up.

 

The long narrow par 5 18th arrived.  Roper briefly recalled his amazing victory there two years before, going in one shot down to Les Bowman, hoping for a birdie, a draw and a chance at a playoff when Les put his approach shot into the far back bunker.  In ecstasy when his seven-iron leaped into the hole for an eagle.  This time he and Craig came in one up.  Craig’s drive was long but caught in one of Les’s ‘new plantings’.  Marcia’s was well-placed and safe, but short.  The Princess had been anything but ‘rusty’ so far, driving straight and true, putting crisply, but she was not a long hitter off the fairway so Roper expected that she would leave Marcia a lengthy approach shot.  ‘Just as well’ he thought ‘I’ll be lucky if I get it out of the woods in one, but if I can do it we can still make par, and that should be enough’.   This time she proved his expectations wrong.  He paused to watch her from his shady spot deep in the brush, the back view, his favorite.  She put something extra into it.  The head of the 3-wood actually did touch her tush on the back-swing.  He was sure of it.  The twitch of her butt as club struck ball made him gasp and he felt his cock harden.  He was too far back in the boonies to see where the ball went, even if he had been looking at anything but her.  A happy squeal from Marcia indicated that it must have been good.

Continued….

Click on the title below to download the entire book and keep reading

M.H. Burton’s Mixed Foursome (The Zach Roper Golf Mysteries volumes 1-4)>>>>