A Different Kind of Fire & Fury: Revenge Book Blast

Blurb:

Detective Michelle Velasquez kicks ass with the Santa Fe Police Department, and she’ll need all her moxie May, 2013 as she’s assigned two cases which may be related. She’s assigned a vicious rape case of Maria Acevedo, an intern with the Jones Financial Group, as she gets a call from an old friend, Richard Stanberry III. He’s intent on re-connecting, but she’s suspicious of his motives for good reason.

As she digs into Maria Acevedo’s rape case, she’s assigned a thirty year old murder case of her former friend, Susie Murphy, who happened to be Richard Stanberry III’s girlfriend at the time of her murder. If Detective Velasquez wants to solve both cases, she’s going to have to put her life on the line to uncover some dark secrets that some prefer to stay buried.

Excerpt:

“Has he given you problems before?”

         

“I’m new.”

         

“Are you afraid to tell me who he is?” She nodded in the affirmative.

         

“I wasn’t a person to him. Just a body to poke his dick into for my humiliation.”

         

“If you tell me who he is, I can arrest him, and you’ll never have to worry about him again.”

Tears started down her cheeks. “Can you tell me why you are so scared of him?”

         

She said, “Because he threatened me.”

         

“But you called the Police?”

         

“No. The cleaning crew came in, after closing hours, and found me. I begged them not to call you, but they did.”

         

“I’m glad they did.”

         

“Please don’t make me tell you who he was. He’ll destroy me.”

         

I said, “You know most rapists threaten their victims to keep them quiet, but they seldom follow through.” As I said it, I didn’t believe a word of it because to confront your attacker would not be easy. I’d shoot the bastard where it counted, if I ever got raped before I’d get dragged through the system. She continued to shake her head from side to side, so I said, “Why don’t we do this. I’ll take you to St. Francis Hospital, and we’ll process the evidence. You don’t need to make a decision, at the moment, on disclosing his identity. If in the future you change your mind, we have the evidence.”

         

“I don’t think there will be evidence because he used protection.”

         

“We need photographic evidence of your injuries plus he may have left a hair or two behind.” She shook her head faster, so I said, “It’s just a few photos. Nothing too obtrusive,” but they were anything but. If she named her rapist, her life would no longer be private. But without evidence, I had no chance of an arrest. “Let me take you to the hospital. I’ll call a rape counselor for you to talk to. It’s confidential between you and her.” She nodded. I’d get the son of a bitch because he wasn’t going to get away with destroying Maria Acevedo’s life. #Timesup

         

I rode with her in the ambulance, to St. Francis Hospital, where I stayed with her through the abysmal experience. They loaded her onto a gurney. They cut her clothes off and replaced them with a gown. Wrapped in a blanket to keep her warm, they shuffled her from room to room.

Once they reached the examination room, they had her stand. They removed the blanket and gown as the nurse held a ruler to the different abrasions while they photographed them. They swabbed her vagina and anus and gave her various shots and pills. After the shots were administered, they aimed a Canon between her legs. Once they had sufficient pictures, they inserted long beaks inside her and smeared her vagina with blue paint to check for abrasions. When they finished, they let her shower.

         

Her rapist wasn’t a novice, so I would check the database for any similar reported attacks. Otto and I went home after her rape counselor showed up. I’d get the son of a bitch because the arrogant prick thought he was entitled to take what he wanted, but he didn’t know that I would get the final say. I would be Maria Acevedo’s avenger. Scumbags like her rapist understood one thing, you had to punch back.

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Author Bio and Links:

I'm a debut author who has long had an interest in crime thrillers and an interest in criminal psychology, specifically, sexual assault. I was stalked two times in my 20's and had to relocate both times as I barely escaped rape both times. I used those experiences in creating one of my fictional characters in the book.

I'm an avid outdoor enthusiast and a lover of animals. I own 5 dogs and have horses, too. They're my babies.

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Moonlight City Drive VBT

Blurb:

11:18 p.m. Subject is checking into the Desert Palms Motel, accompanied by an unknown female.

Snapshot in the parking lot. Man and woman embrace. Betrayal, I see it every day, like my own reflection in the mirror staring back at me. Another case, another bottle of booze, life is no longer a mystery to me …

… Because I’m the private eye, hot on your trail; the top gun for hire. You’ll find me lurking in the shadows, always searching for a clue. I’m the bulletproof detective. I got my eye on you …

What’s a little sin under the covers, what’s a little blood between lovers? What’s a little death to be discovered, cold stiff body under the covers?

I’m digging you a desert grave, underneath the burning sun. You won’t be found by anyone. Vultures circle in the sky, and you, my dear, are the reason why.

… I was always easily influenced.

Excerpt:

Smith twisted the key as hard as he could and heard a popping noise as the locking mechanism finally gave way. He pushed open his office door and entered the dark room. He tossed his keys onto his desk; they slid a short distance before a stack of time-faded papers and case-file folders abruptly stopped them.

Flicking the light switch, the room illuminated with an anemic-brown glow from the single dusty bulb. He took a step toward the coffee percolator on the windowsill, and his toe caught the corner of a tied-up pile of newspapers dating back at least ten years.

Smith exhaled loudly with a frustrated grunt and kneeled beside the newspaper bundle; the air escaping from his lungs carried the stench of day-old consumed alcohol, topped off with more last night that led to closing time this morning. He really hadn’t slept. He napped for a couple hours, then came here. He removed the Swiss Army knife from his pants and cut the twine, freeing the newspapers, watching as they avalanched to the floor.

He used his palm to shuffle and smear the newspapers around his office floor. His gaze quickly scanned his name plastered on all the headlines, praising the ex-deputy-now-turned-private-eye for all the scum he had gotten off the street, as well as locating abducted kids, reuniting long-lost biological parents of orphans, and exposing spouses who may have forgotten their vows. Smith had seen more than he cared to remember while he had been a sheriff’s deputy and could now safely check the box marked Seen It All since becoming a private eye.

Background of the book

Moonlight City Drive is a rock-fiction novelization of Dog Fashion Disco’s album Adultery. (Rock fiction is turning an album or a song into a novel or short story, like when a novel is adapted into a film. And like turning a novel into a film, the reader doesn’t ever need to know anything about the source material to understand or enjoy the book.) The album ambiguously follows a private detective circa 1940s Las Vegas while he’s on the trail of a Jack-the-Ripper style killer. So, I took that concept, used the lyrics of the album as my outline and story arc, and then expanded on it to create a full-length novel. The novel is a Dick Tracy meets Sin City crime noir, with sprinkles of romance and supernatural happenings. After making sure that I had all the plot points from the album’s lyrics included in my outline, I was able to expand on the character’s backgrounds and let the storyline breathe on its own.

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Author Bio and Links:

Brian Paone was born and raised in the Salem, Massachusetts area. Brian has, thus far, published four novels: a memoir about being friends with a drug-addicted rock star, Dreams are Unfinished Thoughts; a macabre cerebral-horror novel, Welcome to Parkview; a time-travel romance novel, Yours Truly, 2095, (which was nominated for a Hugo Award, though it did not make the finalists); and a supernatural, crime-noir detective novel, Moonlight City Drive. Along with his four novels, Brian has published three short stories: “Outside of Heaven,” which is featured in the anthology, A Matter of Words; “The Whaler’s Dues,” which is featured in the anthology, A Journey of Words; and “Anesthetize (or A Dream Played in Reverse on Piano Keys),” which is featured in the anthology, A Haunting of Words. Brian is also a vocalist and has released seven albums with his four bands: Yellow #1, Drop Kick Jesus, The Grave Machine, and Transpose. He is married to a US Naval Officer, and they have four children. Brian is also a police officer and has been working in law enforcement since 2002. He is a self-proclaimed roller coaster junkie, a New England Patriots fanatic, and his favorite color is burnt orange. For more information on all his books and music, visit www.BrianPaone.com

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Birthday Presents VBT

Blurb:

For Tracey, life has become a nightmare. Kidnapped from a nightclub in Boulder, Colorado, brutalized and raped by the killer known as Crimson, he's held captive alongside Kyle, a young man Crimson keeps chained to his bed and is slowly torturing to death. Though Tracey manages to escape with Kyle's help, he is forced to leave Kyle behind.

Gene has never stopped looking for his brother Kyle, abducted from a nightclub seven months previously. The case breaks open when Tracey comes forward, claiming to have knowledge of the whereabouts of Crimson's hideout.

A manhunt begins, but Crimson's birthday has come and gone, and he will kill again.

Excerpt:

Gene knuckled his tired eyes and yawned audibly in the large room crammed with desks and files and very few detectives. No one came in on a Sunday unless absolutely necessary, or in his case, unable to stay away. His gaze wandered again to the closed door of the office on the far end of the room. Craig was in there with the rest of the Target Crime Team. He'd gotten a call a short time ago saying an eyewitness over in Pine Bluff had seen Kyle alive no less than two days ago. God.

Hope trembled in Gene's chest despite Craig's cautionary words that Kyle hadn't been found yet. But this was the closest they'd come since Kyle's disappearance last November. And Gene had the bastard's knife. Hopefully forensics could get something off it, fingerprints or a serial number, anything to link it to a name so they could track him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. Craig had been furious with him when he found out Gene had been prowling nightclubs again. But what was he to do? No one else was looking for Kyle. Craig claimed Gene jeopardized his investigation. Fuck that. Kyle was his brother and he wasn't about to give up on him. And Gene was careful, only going on his nights off. If he happened to stumble on the kidnapper…

The front entrance thumped open and he glanced in that direction, then dropped his gaze to the papers on his desk, scowling. Just what he needed… A low whistle from one of the detectives walking in made his blood boil.

Survivor Guilt and PTSD

Survivor Guilt: A mental condition that occurs when a person believes they have done something wrong by surviving a traumatic event when others did not. –Wikipedia

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder: A mental disorder that can develop after a person is exposed to a traumatic event, such as sexual assault, warfare, traffic collisions, or other threats on a person's life. The disorder is characterized by three main types of symptoms:

• Re-experiencing the trauma through intrusive distressing recollections of the event, flashbacks, and nightmares.
• Emotional numbness and avoidance of places, people, and activities that are reminders of the trauma.
• Increased arousal such as difficulty sleeping and concentrating, feeling jumpy, and being easily irritated and angered.  –Wikipedia

BIRTHDAY PRESENTS is the story of a serial killer who kidnaps and tortures his victims and the people fighting to stop him. Kyle is the young man he’s kept alive the longest, but Tracey escaped him, and we spend the story watching Tracey deal with his PTSD and learning how to have a ‘normal’ life once again.

Survivors Guilt:

"But you escaped," Andi prompted.

Tracey trembled head to foot, the horror coming back. "Sometimes Crimson would take off my cuff so I could help position Kyle. He likes to hurt him, I don't know why." Tears choked his voice and Tracey swallowed them down, needing to finish before the anguish tore him apart. "Crimson likes Kyle sobbing when he takes him." He drew a shaky breath. "Kyle's dying. We both knew it. So we made plans."

He found it hard to continue. "Crimson let me loose, then turned to Kyle. But that night we fought him. Kyle clawed at his face, I scratched his eye. I don't think he was aware of me when I slipped from the bed. Kyle looked at me, but then Crimson bit his collarbone. I still hear his screams."

Tracey covered his face as it all came back, and screamed into his hands, echoing Kyle's shrieks in his head. A red haze filled him mind. It would never be over! Sobbing, he couldn't catch his breath, and it was a long while before the softly spoken words of the counselor broke the chaos inside him.

PTSD:

1. Re-experiencing the trauma…

He'd begun to doze off, the uneasiness of a bad dream creeping up on him, when movement beside him startled him awake. God! What was it? He scrambled to sit up, terror momentarily blinding him. He'd fight Crimson off this time—

"Tracey! It's okay. You're safe."

What? The conference room swept back into focus. Daniel stood next to the couch while Gene looked at him in concern from the table. Shit. He rubbed his face with his hands, feeling sick.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd fallen asleep," Daniel apologized, dismayed.

"Don't worry about it." Tracey rubbed his hands over his jeans, straightened his shirt. He must look a mess and he would kill for a shower and soft bed, anything to distract him from what was happening in the forest at that very moment.

2. Emotional numbness…

They didn't speak on the way to the parking lot, Tracey sliding into the passenger seat after Daniel unlocked the Jeep. Daniel took his place behind the steering wheel, heart thumping. "You don't have to do this," he said to Tracey's averted profile.

"Yes, I really do." Tracey looked at him and the bleakness in his eyes broke Daniel's heart. Then he squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath. "If I'm going out tonight, I'll need clothes and make-up. Will you loan me some money and a ride to Fort Collins? There's a store there with the best leathers."

"Of course." Daniel watched him, but Tracey's eyes skittered away and he stared out the side window. Daniel turned on the ignition and shifted the Jeep into gear, exiting onto the street. Of course Tracey distanced himself. Daniel had been expecting it. But he'd hoped it wouldn't come until much later in the evening.

3. Increased arousal such as difficulty sleeping and concentrating…

Tracey fingered the coat covering him. Daniel must have lain it over him at some point while he slept. He glanced at him and caught his worried expression. Daniel smiled encouragingly but Tracey let his gaze slide away. He absently scraped chipped nail polish from his thumb, watched the rose flakes drift to the floor. It was nice to have someone there, on his side, but he hoped the guy knew he'd have to settle for friendship. No one better fucking touch him.

He huddled under the borrowed coat as a sense of sadness and loss came over him. He wasn't the same person he had been three weeks ago. He missed the confident, sometimes conceited and bratty guy he'd been. The one who'd boldly painted these nails. Now he jumped at everything, always afraid, timid. He didn't like this person very much.

As you can see, Tracey has a long way to go, but with the support and love from his friends, he survives and slowly learns to relish life once again.

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Author Bio and Links:

Dianne is the author of paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, m/m romance, the occasional thriller, and anything else that comes to mind. She lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. She says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee warming her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.

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