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Assassination Blog Tour - Carolyn Arnold

Book Overview:

Raymond Hunter’s dark past has returned and demands one final favor.  Now fifteen years later, settled as an accountant and family man, he assumed life would be calm.  He thought wrong. The Italian Mafia wants him back.

The directions were simple:  Kill Governor Behler and be out for good.

Despite the odd request since the Mafia typically respects dignitaries, in order to protect his family, Raymond has no choice but to accept the job. He picks the date and location—Niagara Falls, New York—two hundred and forty miles away.  But by the time he returns home, he finds out the assassination attempt failed, his family has been kidnapped, and he has twenty-four hours to set things right if he wants to see them again.

With time running out, Raymond discovers the real reason they wanted Behler dead and finds out he’s placed himself and his family right in the middle of a mafia power struggle. What he doesn’t realize is that law enforcement is also closing in.

Assassination of a Dignitary by Carolyn Arnold

Excerpt of Chapter 2

I stood in the cover of darkness, tucked into a corner untouched by the glow of a street light or motion-sensor spotlight. The house was a two-story brick but only home to one man.

A man stood vigil in the corner of the porch. There would be at least one more out back. If Christian hadn’t changed, both men would be carrying AK-47s.

But there would be no need to disturb them.

My heart fluttered with the adrenaline rush that used to fuel my soul on a regular basis as I contemplated the ascent to the second floor. There were two large windows that would serve as a means to propel myself upward. The brick’s mortar had become deeply inset over the years and allowed for a good toe hold. I could have done things the easy way: placed a call and accepted the mission. But I needed to prove that I wasn’t one to mess with either. He violated my home; I would his.

I hoisted my legs onto the bottom window sill and spent a moment thankful I had kept in good physical shape. I stood there, braced in front of the window, back to the world, vulnerable. I heard something ruffle and realized the two guards were moving around. I froze there while I struggled to study their movements by sound. My heartbeat thumped in my eardrums and made it hard to hear. I had to recall my breathing technique. I had to tell myself that I had nothing to lose, just like before. But so much had changed since then. Brenda’s and the kids’ faces skipped through my thoughts, and I closed my eyes willing them to obscurity.

The men were still moving around. I strained to hear. As I focused, my heartbeat relaxed in my ears and receded into a dull hum.

Carlos…pssstt Carlos.” Continue Reading…

Snippet for Snippet’s sake

DebE —  July 19, 2012 — 6 Comments


So, you guys know I’m not organized enough to have special days for special kinds of posts (I call it being creative … You know, writing whatever my inspiration tells me to write) but I know sometimes other bloggers share bits of their WiPs(eseses – uh oh … maybe my coffee was a touch stronger than necessary), and I just felt like sharing a scene.

Um, yeah … that’s all the intro I can think of. So here goes:

Leaving yet another small town behind, Jonas swung from Chino’s back and punched a tree.

Things were not going well. They had been zigzagging through every Turhmos town that lay roughly between Brurun and Duffirk – that city being the capital of Turhmos. Jonas suspected that was where Braph was, but there was no telling for sure. He could just as easily hide in a small town, if he found the right one. Granted, small town folk were more likely to talk and be suspicious of the kind of activity Braph got up to, but it wasn’t impossible. And so, they had been checking, with nothing to show for it. There hadn’t even been sightings.

Jonas punched the tree again. Bark and blood went flying – he might have been super strong, but his skin wasn’t impenetrable.

“Hey, Jonas.” Hisham slid from his own horse and tried to stop Jonas taking another swing. But Jonas went Syakaran on him and swung even faster and harder preventing Hisham grabbing his arm.

The tree creaked, and pain shot up Jonas’ arm. He bent over, cradling the limb, then shaking out his hand, all the while cursing profusely and stamping a foot. It was a hard-won victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“That’s not helping, man,” said Hisham, placing a hand on Jonas’ back. “We’re doin’ the best we can.”

Jonas took a moment to breathe through his curses. Then he straightened, stretching and clenching the injured hand. He’d scraped his knuckles good and jarred his bones, but nothing was broken. If he’d been alone in a room, he might have been pacing and throwing things. Nature didn’t always offer a decent alternative. But punching a tree was close.

Jonas looked at Hisham thinking he would just agree with his friend, climb back on his horse, and they would carry on. But when he looked up, all he wanted to do was punch something – someone – else, and Hisham didn’t deserve it.

Jonas turned from his friend, striding several frustrated paces, muttering incoherently, cursing Braph, cursing Turhmos, cursing himself for leaving Llew, cursing Llew for not just letting him be and staying put inside where she was safe, cursing Lord Tovias for not having an estate secure against Braph . . . He walked away from and back to Hisham several times, muttering and cursing, muttering and cursing. And finally stopped, puffing out a deep breath, in front of his friend.

“I know,” he said. “But it’s not enough. Braph can fly.”

The usual “I’m open for constructive” criticism invitation applies. Of course, scenes out of the middle of the story might not work as well as I think they do out of context, but oh well.