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Book Feature: I Have Faith by Davin Whitehurst

I Have FaithTitle: I Have Faith
Author: Davin Whitehurst
Publisher: Childlike Faith Publishing
Pages: 26
Genre:  Children

Are you ready to get your child excited about faith? “I Have Faith” puts your child right in the footsteps of Danny as he begins to learn about faith. Danny and his older brother have been wanting a dog, but both know their parents don’t think they are ready for a dog. When Danny’s mom begins teaching him what the bible says about faith, he puts his faith into action. After praying and releasing his faith for a dog, doubt and even his best friend keep telling him that he will never get a dog. Over time Danny never loses his faith in the promises of God and finds that God is faithful and that faith works. Come along on this journey that is a real life event that took place in the author’s life as a child.

This book has great illustrations that support a wonderful story about finding faith in God. As you are teaching your child about principals in the bible; this book will help you teach faith. What a wonderful experience it is when we can see our children begin to develop their faith in God, and grow from a tiny mustard seed to a firmly planted tree. The back of the book has a parent/child discussion which will help children gain understanding in faith and some scriptures that Danny’s mom used to get him excited about faith.

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Book Excerpt:

I Have Faith BTB first page

“Hi! My name is Danny.” This is how I learned to trust God and believe His word.

It’s called faith, and you have faith too.

About the Author

Davin WhitehurstDavin Whitehurst lives in the beautiful high desert of Southern Arizona with his wife and son. He is releasing his first book “I have Faith” in May of 2016 but has so many more that are in the making. The motivation behind the books are deeply rooted from in his own past. He is a living testimony of Proverbs 22:6. Growing up in Southwest Kansas and in a Christian household, he was trained up in the way he should go. By the time he became a teenager, Davin turned away from God and left church. Fast forward into his late twenties and God brought him back with a powerful calling. He and his family have been faithfully serving at Seed of Abraham Christian Center International for over seven years now. Proof that when we teach our children the way they should go. When they get older, they know where to turn and will not depart from God. Davin wants each book written to be a resource that parents have to help train their children in the way they should go. He writes stories in a simple way that will be fun and practical for every child. He wants children to get excited about faith and the things of God.

His latest release is the children’s book, I Have Faith.

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Book Blast! Eastern Wisdom Western Soul by Richard Singer

 

We’re happy to be hosting Richard Singer’s EASTERN WISDOM WESTERN SOUL Book Blast today! Please leave a comment or question to let him know you stopped by!

 

About the Book:
Title:
Eastern Wisdom Western Soul
Author: Richard Singer
Publisher: Devorss and Compan
Pages: 200
Genre: Spirituality

Spiritual enlightenment from the Far East has taught the world that true happiness and peace come from within—a wisdom that transcends time and boundaries. As each new generation struggles to find happiness in an ever-changing world overrun by technology and media, few take the inward path to deep, long-lasting peace.

Richard Singer, a psychotherapist, has studied hundreds of Eastern-based writings and given them new life in today’s world for people looking to apply this wisdom to the stressful and frustrating aspects of the 21st century. Based on the words of Gandhi, the Dalai Lama, Buddha, Lao-Tzu, and others, Richard Singer has illuminated some of the most profound Eastern quotes with 111 meditations and contemporary applications. Each selection acts as a seed that he expands upon to create a practical meditation for a real-life situation,
enabling you to recognize and accept the inner peace of your true being . . . right here, right now.

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Book Excerpt:

Mindfulness is the secret of life. A life lived mindfully is a life lived
full of peace, tranquility, joy, bliss, ecstasy and compassion. Mindfulness is
our direct link to the Universe. It is the solution that we as human beings
have been seeking outside ourselves since the beginning of modern times. The
simple practice of mindfulness has been around for thousands of years; however most
human beings discard this approach to life and instead search for more complex
and intellectual philosophies or techniques. Unfortunately, this external
journey never resolves itself. There are many individuals and texts available
that also complicate and over analyze mindfulness. It seems that our ego is
programmed to complicate even the simplest solutions. Mindfulness is meant to
be simple, yet a profound way to live. This present centered solution allows us
to live authentic lives.

So, what exactly is mindfulness and how do you
apply it to your life? Mindfulness is a specific form of meditation or simply
put awareness of the moment. There are many different forms of meditation,
however we are going to specifically focus on mindfulness meditation, which
this author believe to be the most practical and pure meditative exercise.
Mindfulness involves directly participating in each moment as it occurs with
complete awareness of your present experience. Life only exists in the Here and
Now when practicing mindfulness. The moment we experience is pure and
unadulterated. Mindfulness is a “living” meditation that you can
practice each second of your precious life. There is no need to escape to a
secluded place, as you can engage in mindfulness anywhere and at anytime, no
matter what is happening around you.

Instead of presenting the reader with one rigid definition of mindfulness, a
few but concise definitions will be presented below drawn from the wisdom of
various experts and practitioners of mindfulness.

Jon Kabat-Zinn, the best selling author of Wherever You Go There You Are and
the creator of Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction, describes mindfulness
meditation as “paying attention in a particular way; on purpose, in the
present moment and non-judgmentally.”

Levey and Levey in their magnificent book, Simple Meditation and Relaxation,
state ” Mindfulness liberates us from memories of the past and fantasies
of the future by bringing reality of the present moment clearly into
focus.” They also express that “mindfulness makes us aware of life’s
everyday miracles.”

In one of the ancient Buddhist commentaries, it is stated that mindfulness
is “presence of mind, attentiveness to the present… ”

Stephen Levine, author of A Gradual Awakening, says that mindfulness is a
” moment to moment awareness of whatever arises, whatever
exists.”

Meditation teacher and author Sylvia Boorstein states that mindfulness is
having ” the aware, balanced acceptance of present experience. It is not
more complicated than that. It is opening to or receiving the present moment,
pleasant or unpleasant, just as it is, without either clinging to or rejecting
it.”

These simple yet profound use diverse expression and terminology, but what
they all share in common is that mindfulness is being completely and fully
present for life. It is being aware of what is going on within and around you
in each moment of your miraculous existence. We simply practice awareness
without judgment, accepting our thoughts and emotions exactly as they are.

As you may have noticed mindfulness is a simple
yet, powerful way to live our lives. Its simply being Right Here, Right Now:
immersing your entire being in the present moment and fully experiencing your
life. That’s it! It really is that straight forward. It is not necessary to
over analyze, intellectualize, or complicate what it is to be mindful. Of
course our ego wants to distract us in any way possible, but don’t allow this.
Recognize the presence of your ego, say hello, and then calmly dismiss it. All
there is to being mindful is to Simply Be. While there are plenty more advanced
explanations on this topic available for you to further explore if you desire;
what has been described here is the simple and pure essence of mindfulness
meditation.

As you leave this article and continue your journey of mindful living or if
you are just beginning, this writer suggests that you dive into the ocean
of Now and intimately acquaint
yourself with the pleasure of what is directly in front of you. As expressed in
the Zen tradition, “When eating, eta and when walking, walk.”

Are you Right Here, Right Now? If not, center yourself and experience the
bliss and ecstasy of the eternal moment. Enjoy your journey!

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About the Author

Richard Singer is first of all a real human being who is quite faulty and still struggles with life on a daily basis. He is a recovering drug addict and alcoholic that once was homeless, hopeless and penniless. However, on a worldly basis, he is an award winning author, trained psychotherapist, adjunct professor, and most importantly a seeker of truth. He continuously searches for wisdom to use in his life, as well as helping other human beings in their precious journey. He has studied Eastern Psychology, Buddhist Healing, and Non-Violence at the Doctoral Level; in addition, he has spent years devoted to the study of wisdom recorded throughout history. He seeks to impart this knowledge to the world through his writing. His primary purpose is to benefit humanity in any way possible.

Richard states that My books are not only for reading, they are meant to be lived. Richard has written two meditation books and co-authored an inspirational children’s book.He consistently supports human beings in their search for purpose and passion in life. Richard passionately believes in equality among all human beings. “After all we only have one race; the Human Race.”

He has been featured in many magazines, on various radio and television shows including BBC News in London and his books have been widely reviewed specifically by Library Journal, Martha Stewart’s Body and Soul Magazine and many other review forums.

Richard has twin boys that reside in the Cayman Islands. Mathew and Alexander are his life. Mr. Singer loves to read, write, travel, and engage in anything spontaneous and adventure filled. He has driven across the United States several times and traveled many places in the world. Cuba remains his favorite country to visit. He continuously strives to embrace each unique moment of life by applying Mindfulness Meditation to all moments. Mindfulness is a “living meditation” that we never stop applying to our lives.

Richard is open to questions, suggestions, or simply having a conversation.

You may contact him at RSinger9999@gmail.com.

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First Chapter Reveal: Scar Tissue by MC Domovitch

Scar TissueTitle: Scar Tissue
Author: MC Domovitch
Publisher: Lansen Publishing
Pages: 396
Genre: Romantic Suspense/Thriller/Paranormal

When successful model Ciara Cain wakes up in hospital, remembering nothing of the weeks she has been missing, her only clues are the ugly words carved into her skin. According to the police she was a victim of the Cutter, a serial killer who has already murdered three women. For her protection the police and her doctors give a press conference, announcing that because her amnesia is organically caused, her memory loss is permanent. But, whether her memory returns or not is anybody’s guess.
Overnight, Ciara’s glamorous life is gone. Her scars have killed both her modelling career and her relationship with her rich boyfriend. With nothing to keep her in New York, she returns to her home town of Seattle, moves in with her sister and goes about building a new life. But when her sister lets it slip that Ciara’s memory is returning, the killer comes after her again. If Ciara is to stay alive, she must keep one step ahead of the Cutter.

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Chapter One:

 

I don’t want to die.

That single thought pounded through her mind as she hurtled through the woods. The blackness had dropped all at once, and now the trees were merely darker shadows against a dark night. The rain came down hard. Lightning cracked, sounding so much like a gunshot that she muffled a scream. But she had not been hit. She was still alive. She ran on.

Branches and bushes whipped at her, scratching her arms and legs. She tripped over an exposed root and crashed to the ground, but was back on her feet in an instant.

A brilliant flash of lightening was followed by thunder. Ka-boom. Everything that had been black a moment ago became white. Had she been spotted? No, surely not.

A crunching sound came from her right. She whipped her head toward it and picked up her pace. Her breathing was ragged, short puffs of steam in the frigid April air. It couldn’t have been more than fifty degrees. Sweat and rain mixed with the dirt and blood from her countless wounds and ran down her face and neck in rivulets. Thanks to the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she was numb to the cold and the pain, but she would feel it later—if she got out of here alive.

Please God, let me live.

But she’d had no real food for days, no water except the occasional sip. Her body couldn’t keep going much longer. She was close to collapsing.

Must. Keep. Going.

If she wanted to stay alive, she needed to put as much distance as possible between herself and her captor. She had no idea how long she’d been running or in which direction she was going. Had her kidnapper even noticed she’d escaped? Was that monster already on her trail, getting closer with every passing second? A horrendous thought came to her. She could be running in a circle, her every step bringing her closer to her jailer. A sob escaped her throat.

Dear God. Please. Please.

She squinted, trying to see through the inky night. There had to be a road, a house, something, and then she saw them. Some distance away there were lights, and her last vestiges of hope crashed.

Flashlights.

Had a posse been formed? Were they closing in on her? In her panic, she tripped and came down hard, again. This time she thought she might have broken an arm. She was crying now. She’d come so close. But she would be caught. And she would die.

She looked up at the lights moving through the trees, and blinked. Could her imagination be playing tricks on her? She stared, and in moment of clarity she understood. Those weren’t flashlights. They were headlights. Headlights meant cars, and cars meant a road. Just ahead, maybe a few hundred yards farther, lay safety.

She had to keep going. She struggled to her feet, cradling her sore arm. She made her way, pushing through brambles and bushes until she came to a steep embankment. She crawled up and then over the guardrail. A car whizzed by, blaring its horn.

“Wait. Stop!” she yelled at the next one when it was still a distance away, but it drove by too. “Help me!” she shouted after it. She limped into the road, determined to make the next one stop. Tires screeched. There was a thud. And then she went flying through the air, coming to a bone-crushing thump on the hard pavement.

Through the mist in her mind she heard the sound of running footsteps, then a woman’s voice. “Oh, my God. Is she dead?”

A man’s voice, pleading. “I swear. It wasn’t my fault. She ran right in front of me.”

The woman again. “I think she’s still breathing. Call an ambulance. Now!” She leaned into her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The words came to her from a great distance, growing further and further away, until they were only a faint echo. She drifted into nothingness.

 

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Book Spotlight: Cocktails and Mock-Tales by Julianne McLean and Mark Lynch

 

We’re happy to be hosting Julianne McLean and Mark Lynch’s new humor book, Cocktails and Mock-Tales!
About the Book:
Title:
Cocktales & Mock-Tales
Authors: Julianne McLean & Mark Lynch
Publisher: ASJ Publishing
Pages: 90
Genre: Humor

 

Cocktails and Mock- Tales is not just about alcoholic beverages. The book is about sensations that tickle your tastebuds and humour that tickles your fancy. It includes non-alcoholic beverages that the whole family can enjoy and even herbal recipes for the adventurous.
Have one extremely tall high ball glass and a giant cocktail shaker at the ready.
Ingredients:
Unlimited centilitres of wit and humour
9 cl or 3oz titillating snippets of history and gossip
Add flavours of exotic destinations
A dusting of spice mixed with satire
Several centilitres of high spirits (optional)
Shake with vigour. Garnish with an open mind and your own sense of humour
Now you are ready to truly laugh and savour Cocktails and Mock Tales!
Amaze your friends and family with your knowledge of the origins of international beverages and excite their tastebuds with these exotic
sensations.

For More Information

  • Cocktails & Mock-Tales is available at Amazon.
  • Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

Book Excerpt:

Daiquiri
The daiquiri is a family of cocktails of which the primary ingredients are white rum, lime or lemon juice and sugar.
The drink was supposedly invented by American mining engineer Jennings Cox who was in partying and experimenting in Cuba at the time
of the Spanish American War. Daiquiri is also the name of a beach and an iron ore mine near Santiago in Cuba.
Serves 1
6cl white rum
3cl lime juice
2cl sugar syrup
Sugar on the rim of the glass.
Pour the ingredients into a cocktail shaker with ice cubes.
Shake well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
Strawberry Daiquiri Mock-tail
Serves1
2 large strawberries
1⁄4 cup of white sugar
1 tablespoon of lemon juice
¾ cup of chilled lemon lime soda
4 ice cubes
In a blender, mix the strawberries, sugar, lemon juice and lime soda. Add the ice and blend until smooth. Pour into a chilled Tom Collins
glass. Garnish with a slice of lime or lemon.

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About the Authors

 

Julianne has created & organized targeted national launches, press coverage, television appearances, publicity events and community service affiliations for a varied range of entities including: “Masai Barefoot Technology” – therapeutic footwear company; award-winning cartoonist Mark Lynch’s book – “How Green is MyPlanet” with forewords from Spike Milligan and David Suzuki; best-selling recipe book, “Barbies for Blokes” with recipes from celebrities such as Peter Brock, Jeff Fenech and Guy Leech and the sequel “More Barbies for Blokes” (These later
publications were co-authored by Julianne); John Gill, eight times World Martial Arts Champion and Hornsby Council’s sports complexes that won the national award for “Best Swim School Promotion”. Julianne has just produced directed and written a DVD for Holland America Cruise lines based on their exercise programs and is publishing her new book “Cocktails and Mock Tales”.
Visit Julianne McLean on Facebook!

Mark Lynch our Australian cartoonist, describes himself as being born “sometime in the middle of the last century.”

After doing a variety of Jobs, Mark became a QANTAS Flight attendant and he quips that “the next nineteen years of his life resembled an exotic beer commercial set in a variety of world- wide locations”.
Mark was editorial cartoonist for the leading publication, “The Australian” newspaper. His work has been enjoyed in more publications than you could count, ranging from Australian dailies, even ‘Le News Switzerland”. Mark’s cartoons appear in a variety of forms and diversity
world-wide including video screens in the Berlin and Munich subway system where they are seen by 1.5 million people a day.
Mark is the recipient of 48 international and Australian cartoon awards!
Mark lives in Sydney with his lovely wife, Jenny, and two sons and to learn more about Mark and see further cartoons, visit www.cartoons-a-plenty.com
http://www.pumpupyourbook.com

 

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First Chapter Reveal: Floor 21 by Jason Luthor

Floor 21

Title: Floor 21
Author: Jason Luthor
Publisher: Scout Press
Pages: 355
Genre: Sci-fi/Dystopian

The last of humanity is trapped at the top of an isolated apartment tower with no memory of how they got there or why. All travel beneath Floor 21 is forbidden, and nobody can ever recall seeing the ground floor. Beneath Floor 21, a sickness known as the Creep infests that halls of the Tower. A biological mass that grows stronger in reaction to people’s fear and anger, the Creep prey’s on people by causing them to hallucinate until they’re in a state of panicking, before finally growing strong enough to lash out and consume them. Only a small team known as Scavengers are allowed to go beneath Floor 21 to pillage the lower levels in search of food and supplies.

Jackie is a brilliant young girl that lives far above the infection and who rarely has to worry about facing any harm. However, her intense curiosity drives her to investigate the bottom floors and the Creep. To deal with her own anxiety and insecurities, she documents her experiences on a personal recorder as she explores the secrets of the Tower. During the course of her investigation, Jackie will find herself at odds with Tower Authority, which safeguards what remains of humanity, as she attempts to determine what created the Creep, how humanity became trapped at the top of the Tower, and whether anyone knows if escape is even possible.

For More Information

  • Floor 21 is available at Amazon.
  • Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

First Chapter:

THE GIRL’S STORY

Recording One

My name is Jackie, and it’s not so bad living here. Seriously. At least, I don’t think so anyway, but I guess it’s hard to say. Then again, I’ve never really been anywhere else. I’ve rarely even been below Floor 12. My parents won’t let me. They say things get bad down there, so I have to stay up here, on the higher levels.

Don’t get me wrong; I mean, I wish I didn’t have to. Things get kind of boring, walking the same halls every day. I’m always trying to find something new to do, but it’s kinda hard when you’ve lived your whole life in the same tower. Sometimes I’ll wander up to the rooftop, where we have the gardens. That’s where all of our food comes from, so we all take turns planting and harvesting. I don’t mind the work, actually, unless it means pulling carrots. Those suckers are really hard to yank out of the dirt.

When I think of it, it’s actually kind of annoying having to go to the rooftop, and not just because of the work. It’s really more about what we have to pass by as we head up there. So, the top level of the Tower is Floor 1. None of us are allowed inside, so every time we go up the stairs, we’re forced to stare at that big, golden number—the number “1” that sits on the locked entry door. I really wish I knew what was inside, but you know, nobody’s allowed in. Instead, we just have to pass by every few days when it’s our turn to work the gardens. You might as well string some candy in front of my face and tell me I’m not allowed to eat it.

Of course, you can’t just pick vegetables all day. That gets boring quick. Besides, most of the time I’m in school. Well, school’s probably too strong a word for it. We meet most days of the week in the library on Floor 6. Our teacher, Mrs. Bloom, tries to lead class the best she can. It’s just too bad our books aren’t great. A lot of them are about to fall apart, and most of them were scavenged from the lower floors. I’m not talking about something like Floors 13 or 14. I’m not even talking about Floor 21. I mean the books were taken from way down below . . . like, as far down as Floor 30.

I know, right? I can’t believe it myself. That’s what we have the Scavengers for, though. Without them we’d never get new books or supplies. They’re pretty much the bravest people in the Tower. They say that anyone who makes it onto a scavenging team is the type that could have been a police officer or even a soldier before all this happened. I mean, that makes sense. They wear all that riot gear, and it looks like they know how to fight. Sucks, though, since as tough as they are, every once in a while we lose one of them. That just goes with the territory of being a Scavenger.

Point is, life is only livable because of them since it’s not like we’re rolling in things to do. Sometimes I’ll sit around in the lobby with the other kids and watch movies on the Blu-Ray player, but that doesn’t always work. For instance, if it’s a really cloudy day, then the solar panels on the roof will die out, which always sucks for everyone. If we want light then, we have to burn candles, and we don’t have many of those. Then again, we don’t really have lightbulbs, either. Well, we have a few. Want to take a guess where we get those from? Yeah. Scavengers. We get everything from them.

I kinda always wanted to be one. Who wouldn’t want to be? They get to see stuff from a long time ago, before we had to live on the top of the Tower. Speaking of that, nobody really talks about the Before, and I’m not even sure how much anyone knows about it. I guess it makes sense to think that once upon a time we lived on the lower floors. Maybe even the ground . . . if there is a ground. I’ve never met anyone that’s seen it, not even the Scavengers, and they’ve been farther down the Tower than anyone.

When you stop and think about it, I mean, our lives don’t make sense. We couldn’t have always lived up here, right? It gets me pretty antsy thinking about it because, I mean, this is a tower, so we had to have come up the stairs at some point. Didn’t we?

I don’t know, and thinking about it gets me frustrated. When I’m in this kind of mood, I go to the rooftop and look out. You can actually see other towers rising up in the distance. Some aren’t even that far from ours. I stare at them, and I’m just like . . . is anybody over there? Is anybody looking back at me? Does anybody know or remember we’re trapped in this place?

Or are we all that’s left?

After I’ve gotten myself sufficiently depressed, I’ll stare over the edge of the roof, trying to see how far below I can look. Thing is, it’s impossible to see much. This tower just vanishes into the Darkness. Nobody, and I mean nobody, even knows why. It’s just blackness down there.

Oh, about Floor 12. Yeah, that’s where the Creep really starts. The Creep? It’s this . . . gunk. Super-disgusting stuff that you shouldn’t touch because it makes you feel weird, and the lower down the Tower you go, the more you see it. It starts to cover the walls, and it’s kinda gross. It’s really slick, like saliva, and it looks all muscle-y. Almost alive. Good thing you don’t have to worry about it when you’re higher than Floor 11. Still, I wonder what it is. We all do. I know that when you touch it, you can start hallucinating. I did once. Well, okay, I’m lying. I’ve touched it a few times when I’ve been on the lower levels, which is why my parents made the rule that I couldn’t head down there in the first place. I mean, I don’t pay attention to them, but I get why they don’t want me going that far below into the Tower. The Creep makes you see . . . things. Shadowy things. Sometimes they’re right in front of you, but most of the time, they’re in the corner of your eye. They say that by Floor 21, you don’t even have to touch the Creep to hallucinate, which is a total trip. Must suck to live down there.

Still, I wonder. I wonder about this all the time, actually. I wonder about what’s below Floor 21.

Um, Mom told me I should start recording my thoughts when I’m in these kind of moods, so this one might be short. I mean duh, it’s my first one. At first when she said I should record myself, I was like, okay, no. Because she’s crazy, and I don’t want to seem crazy, too. That’s no exaggeration by the way. I mean, she’s been a total whacko ever since I turned thirteen. Also, I mean, who cares about what I have to say? It’s not like I’m ever going to listen to this.

But . . . here I am. Probably because I really am going as crazy as her, but also because I go nuts thinking about how nobody else cares that we’re trapped here. I get it, we’re alive, so we should be grateful. But do you know how insane it makes me being the one person asking “why” when everyone else is acting like this is just the way things are? God.

Anyway, guess I’ll try to keep this up. I’m supposed to meet with Allison tonight. Don’t know what we’ll do. Try to find a new movie in the Blu-Ray collection, I guess. I think one of the boys said the Scavengers hauled up a game system from the Deep Creep. I haven’t seen one since I was a kid. The last one we had broke when I was, like, ten. That’s what? Seven years. Dang. I’d really like to play a video game again.

 

 

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Book Spotlight: Al-thar by Sean Dow

Al-TharTitle: Al-thar
Author: Sean Dow
Publisher: Two Harbors Press
Pages: 466
Genre: Thriller

In Al-thar, (Arabic:revenge) Brent is living a tranquil life on the peaceful Philippine island of Masbate. But the FBI’s witness protection plan is not enough when you have destroyed the plans of the world’s most feared terrorist group-an assassin is on the way, and his plans are far worse than a simple bullet in the head.

With the violent destruction of his new island home, Dr. Holcomb is once again thrust into danger, this time on an international level. There are only two outcomes in this new high-stakes match, Brent’s painful and public death and the destruction of America’s, or the death of Saadullah Abul Ka-beir, and his council.

Brent brings together his cast of memorable friends from A Leafy Green World as he devises the greatest deception ever imagined. The action goes at a break-neck pace from the Philippines to Washington, D.C., and from a remote valley in Pakistan to the jungles of Sierra Leone in this novel that has been described as almost too real, and too timely.

 

For More Information

  • Al-thar is available at Amazon.
  • Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

Book Excerpt:

Washington, DC

 

“What the hell?” thought Tony Rossi.

Rossi, newly advanced to assistant director the FBI was coming home from yet another late night at the Hoover Building when the stoplight in front of him changed. There had been no hint of yellow, just a straight shot from green to red.

Tony had been absorbed, thinking about the conversation he had just finished with his liaison at the CIA. They had been picking up more chatter than usual. Whether it would be stateside or on foreign soil was anyone’s guess, but it looked like something was on the horizon, something big. Tony’s thoughts had also been drifting to Anne-Marie. For the second time this week, he had been forced to call off a planned evening—he wondered how much longer she would put up with this.

With the sudden light change, the limo in front had slammed to a halt, its nose just into the intersection. With his mind elsewhere, and the anticipation of the light staying green, Tony rammed into its back with barely a moment on the brakes. He was shocked by the force of the airbag, but was grateful just the same. Shaking off the daze, he looked through his windshield at the car in front of him.

Son-of-a-fucking-bitch! he thought, slamming his hand on the wheel. Who in the hell did I just run into? He had noticed earlier that the car had government plates, and he knew they didn’t give limos to run-of-the-mill, first-term senators or other no-name low-level officials, only to those who had risen through the ranks—this was going to be a very long evening.

 

Tony had no idea, when he took the assistant director position Mike Townsend had left at the FBI, that his world would be so disrupted. He enjoyed the responsibility but he might have passed had he known how much effect it would have on the rest of his life. He couldn’t even find the time to do his own laundry these days, having to hire out even such a simple, basic chore, and his personal relationships had come to a near complete halt.

On a social level, Mike had had it easy when he had the job. Having lost his wife to breast cancer years earlier, and with no intent to fill that empty spot in his life, he had no distractions. That had lasted until he had nearly poisoned Ginger Roberts, the senator in charge of the judiciary committee. In an effort to calm her one stormy winter morning, Mike had given her a near coma-inducing dose of an expensive single-barrel whiskey. The bottle had been given to Mike as a bribe. In an unusual twist of fate, an act that could have ended his career had instead started a relationship that was likely to lead to a proposal of marriage. The thought made Tony smile—maybe there was still hope for him to find someone, as well.

An indignant driver got out of the limousine, looking as if he was ready for a fight.

Shit! Tony thought, shaking his head. Just what I don’t need.

He had hoped to call Anne-Marie, apologize, and see if she could be talked into a late date, or at least a chocolate malt at Tiny’s. Now he’d be lucky if he got to his apartment in time to microwave a frozen gourmet treat from his well-stocked freezer before collapsing into bed, alone.

He rolled his window down, readying himself for the tongue lashing he was about to receive, when, in a freeze-frame moment, the driver’s head exploded—one moment angry, but normal, and the next, an eruption of gore. His tuxedo clad body hung briefly, like a prop from a Hollywood horror movie, before collapsing to the ground with the sound of his last breath escaping from the ruin.

Tony was instantly back to his military training. He dove across the front seat of his Bronco and rolled out the passenger door onto the pavement, positioning himself behind the front wheel after a quick assessment to make sure that his back was clear. Satisfied, he jumped up, ready to rush to the aid of the VIP in the limousine.

His car was rocked by bullets the moment he stood. His windshield starred, then exploded as more bullets whizzed past his head. Still more tore through the door panel, whining like angry wasps as they went past. They’re shooting at me, he realized, not the man in the limo!

A sedan accelerated through the intersection. It turned and aimed straight at him. Tony leaped just before it arrived, cartwheeling over the hood of his Bronco and landing heavily on his hip and shoulder. The sedan crashed right where he had crouched moments earlier, the impact causing the SUV to rise up on two tires before pausing a moment and settling back down with a protesting noise. He was safe from the sedan, but now directly in the original line of fire.

Bullets sparked off the pavement around his feet. Others punched into his Ford, some missing him by inches. Tony couldn’t see the shooters, but knew he’d be dead if he didn’t do something, and right away. With assailants on both sides there were no good choices but staying in this exposed position was definitely the worst of his options. He raced around the back of his truck, gun up, to confront the attackers in the car.

The driver was out of commission, slumped over the steering wheel, but the rear doors were already opening: two, no, three assailants.

Tony had a brief moment where he had the advantage as they were scrambling to get out. He emptied his magazine, squeezing the trigger until the firing pin landed on an empty chamber. It was not the fire discipline they had trained into him, but all three attackers were down.

In a move he had practiced so many times that it was fixed into muscle memory, he ejected the spent magazine and rammed home a fresh one. It was his last. He hadn’t expected a firefight in downtown DC, and he hadn’t come prepared for one.

He turned to face the others—it was one pistol against an unknown number of assailants. From the way the bullets punched through his car, Tony knew they must be armed with rifles—he would have only one chance, to flee. The Bronco was out of commission, leaving the limo as his only hope. If the keys were still in the ignition he might make it. If not, he’d take out as many as he could and then join his father on the wall of honor at the bureau.

The passenger-side door was locked, exactly as Tony had suspected, but he had to check. He raced around the front, firing blindly as he went, and dove through the driver’s door, slamming it shut as his right hand searched for the ignition. The keys were there, still in their slot, and the limousine started immediately. He reached for the selector but a strong arm wrapped around his neck just before he could drop the car into gear. His passenger must have mistaken him for one of the assailants!

Through his dimming vision, Tony could see the real attackers coming. He punched backward as hard as he could, repeatedly hitting the side of the passenger’s head, but each blow he landed was weaker than the one before, showing no effect. In a last-ditch effort, he seized a finger, bending it backward until it snapped. His passenger howled in pain, loosening his grip enough for Tony to get a breath.

“Let go, dammit! Let go or we’re both dead.”

Panicked like a drowning swimmer, the passenger immediately tried to re-establish his death grip but Tony was ready for him this time. He got his left arm up next to his throat, blocking the choke and giving him time to mount a better defense. He was about to turn to face the backseat when one of the attackers arrived at the window. He was armed with an AK-type weapon and was bringing it to bear, a triumphant smile on his face.

There was no time for Tony to reach his own weapon, and no time to free himself enough to drive away from the threat. This was how his life would end, on a grimy, oil-slicked street in the suburbs of Washington, DC, with Styrofoam cups and fast-food wrappers blowing around his corpse. A phalanx of sightseers would arrive, attracted by the gunfire and hoping to get a glimpse before the police had the area walled off. It wasn’t the way he’d planned to go, but then most people don’t get to choose, do they? The truly sad part was that he was just beginning to salvage his life from the ruins it had become after his divorce—the hope and promise that had appeared on the horizon were now to be snatched away.

He looked up to face his attacker—at least he would see who was about to kill him.

Two shots rang out, so close together that they sounded more like one. The attacker stopped, a puzzled look on his face. He fell against the door and then slowly slipped down to the ground, leaving a blood trail along the glass. A man in a business suit stepped up. He was on the passenger side of the limousine, and he had a large caliber revolver, which he held in a practiced way.

“Get the hell out of here,” the man shouted, firing two more shots toward a group of attackers. “There’s more coming!”

There was no way Tony was going to leave his rescuer alone against obviously superior odds. In a fit of strength, he broke away from his backseat passenger and stepped into the fray.

The attackers had not expected an armed response. This was supposed to be a simple hit against an unsuspecting weak American, and in Washington, DC, where no one was supposed to have a firearm. The armed reaction took them by surprise. In their moment of confusion, Tony and his new best friend centered three more with deadly fire, and sent the others running.

Unsure if all the shooters had left, Tony and his Good Samaritan crouched behind the limo. Fortunately, there were no more shots, and the sound of sirens soon reached them, piercing through the night air—a mass shooting in the nation’s capital tended to bring out the troops.

“Thanks, man,” he said to the businessman. “You saved my life.”

“Right place, right time,” he deferred. “Always happy to help.”

He shook Tony’s hand, searching for threats as he did so. Seeing none, he holstered his revolver.

“I probably ought to get going, though,” he added as he stood up. “It’s best if I’m not here when the police arrive.”

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Book Excerpt: A Leafy Green World by Sean Dow

A Leafy Green World

Title: A Leafy Green World
Author: Sean Dow
Publisher: Two Harbors Press
Pages: 449
Genre: Thriller

A Leafy Green World is a fast paced, action packed thriller set in the Pacific Northwest. Dr. Brent Holcomb has moved to Portland in hopes of resurrecting his life and his career. There, he meets Robyn-the girl from his dreams. All is going smoothly until he realizes Robyn and her friends are not what they seem. Now, wrapped up in the murder of an innocent man, and with nowhere to turn, Brent forms a bold plan-a plan that will put him on a dangerous course, aligning himself with domestic terrorists and ultimately, a deeply hidden cell of Islamic terrorists.

For More Information

Book Excerpt:

Upper Dir valley, Pakistan

“How well do you trust him?” asked the voice over the encrypted satellite phone.

Farouk was always amazed at the technology that allowed him to have a clear conversation with someone halfway across the world. It was an honor to have been put through—he was speaking to Saadullah Abul Ka-beir himself, the imam who was guiding the war against the great Satan. He was a merciless warrior, a genius, and a master of planning—the best hope Islam had ever had of ridding the world of the Jews and of bringing in the glorious caliphate, and Farouk was actually being allowed to speak directly to him!

Even with the encryption, he had been instructed not to mention names or give any salutations that could be used to identify the man on the other end. The Americans were always finding ways to listen in on their conversations. The only truly secure communication was by courier, and the time delay involved in that was often unacceptable. Going in person to see the imam was out of the question. It would take almost two days to fly to Peshawar, and from there it was another grueling six hours to reach the blessed valley in Upper Dir where the council was sheltered.

“Six hours, that is, in the daylight,” thought Farouk. Travel now had to be at night. The daytime skies were filled with silent death. So many heroes had died before their appointed time and with nothing to show for their deaths. The Americans struck wherever they pleased; there was no sovereignty, no shelter. Even in his own country, his leaders were forced to live like animals, cowering in damp caves and afraid to show their faces, lest the devils strike from the sky. It was an abomination, but it was also reality—Farouk prayed on a daily basis that he would live long enough to dance upon the graves of the infidels who forced the great leaders to live in such a demeaning manner.

In the meantime, satellite phones had become a necessary risk. They were effective, but information still had to be kept to a minimum, conversations as short as possible, and specifics avoided. No one knew if the enemy could listen in, but even if not, it would probably be only a short time until they could.

“I trust him completely, Sheikh,” Farouk said. “Enough to insist on a chance to bring this information to you. We have the opportunity to achieve the dreams of our people, and in our lifetime. This man is high in the ranks of a group that has lived for years amongst the devils, fighting them constantly, and they have never been penetrated.

“I also worked with his father, a man of great integrity whose efforts are largely responsible for my financial independence. I can say with certainty that this man can be trusted.”

“You realize what will happen to you and your family if you have been deceived?”

“Yes, Sheikh. As always, I put my life in your hands. We are searching his past and will watch everything he does, but I sense the beneficence of Allah in this man.”

“Very well. We will discuss this. In the meantime, continue your vigilance but do not go any further. You have already taken a great chance talking to him. You will find the fires of hell to be a welcome relief if your actions bring any damage to our cause.”

The call ended. No Salam alaikum, no Allah ysalmak, just silence. Silence and a feeling of dread. What if I have let pride interfere with my judgment? Farouk worried. Have I let the lion in the door?

 

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