NIck is back! One Way Out (Nick Seven Book 9) by Tim Smith -- #Romance #Suspense #NewRelease

Blurb

Blackmail, kidnapping, stalking, death threats…some days, you just can’t win!

Lauren Scott is a wealthy widow with a lot of embarrassing secrets. Her late husband, a convicted stock swindler, died under mysterious circumstances, just as he was about to name names in Federal court. His legacy supposedly includes a list of VIPs who attended sex parties on a private Caribbean island, among other things. Now Lauren has become the target of too many people who think she holds the secrets he once kept, and they just might kill her for them.

She calls on her friends, former CIA spies Nick Seven and Felicia Hagens, for help. Despite initial misgivings, they agree to assist her. But their laidback Florida Keys life is quickly disrupted by those in hot pursuit, including a zealous podcaster who is making Lauren’s private life public, a Treasury agent, victims of her late husband’s Ponzi scheme, and a Southern governor who has his eye on the White House.

Looks like there might be trouble brewing in paradise.

Review Snippets

“He’s as cool as a Pina Colada on a Key West beach, he’s the kind of guy your mother wouldn’t let you play with, and he’s every bad guy’s worst nightmare. Nick Seven is back in “One Way Out,” another fast-paced romantic adventure from award-winning, bestselling author Tim Smith.” –T. M. Savage, Impact Weekly

“This is a sexy, stylish thriller with a savvy, no-nonsense hero.” – L.A. Johnson, Midwest Book Review

“Nick Seven is our man for the 21st century. Nick hangs out in Key Largo and you will, too, when you join Nick and Felicia in their latest adventure. Three cheers for Seven!” – Don Wright, syndicated columnist.

Excerpt

The scent of patchouli from a burning candle permeated Nick and Felicia’s bedroom, accompanied by smooth piano jazz from the stereo. The room was dark, and the window was open to let in fresh night air along with the sound of waves gently hitting the seawall in the channel. Nick lay on his back with one arm behind his head on the pillow, his eyes closed, enjoying the peacefulness. Felicia curled up next to him, her naked body close to his while gently running her fingers over his bare chest. He relaxed under her gentle touch.

“This is nice,” Nick muttered.

“Very relaxing,” she softly concurred.

“You always like to burn scented candles when we’re trying to unwind,” he observed. “How do you decide which scent?”

“If we’re really tense, I’ll burn somethin’ like this or ocean breeze. If it’s to freshen a stuffy room, it might be apple cinnamon. Around Christmas time, I’ll burn evergreen or pine.”

“Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“How do you decide which music to play?”

“Depends on what we’re doing. If I’m working on something or we’re just hanging around the house, it’s Miles Davis, Count Basie, or Buddy Rich. If we’re having a romantic evening, I like piano music like this. Or maybe Sinatra, Dean Martin, or Nat Cole.”

“Yeah, you always seem to match the music with the mood.”

“Thank you. I try not to play Louis Prima when we’re feeling intimate.”

Felicia laughed. “Yeah, all that jump, jive, and wail stuff would be distractin’.”

Nick rolled over and placed his palm on Felicia’s cheek. They stared into each other’s eyes while moving closer until their lips met. Nick gently kissed her. She returned his passion, massaging his lips with hers. Their tongues dueled in a sensuous erotic dance as their kissing became more intense and passionate. Nick’s hand strayed to Felicia’s firm breast and cupped it, gently massaging her nipple until it was as hard as a gumdrop.

Felicia exhaled a deep contented breath. “Wow.”

He kissed her. “You’re the most passionate lover.”

“I always knew you’d be a good lover. Even before we sealed the deal the first time.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because you’re a good kisser. Where you have one, you have the other.”

Nick reached up and brushed back a strand of hair from her sweaty forehead. “You mean after we kissed the first time, even though I didn’t make a move, you knew what kind of lover I’d be?”

“Mm-hmm. Surprised?”

“Astonished. You must tell me your secret someday.”

She kissed him. “Some things are better left unspoken.”

About the Author

Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author of romantic mystery/thrillers and contemporary erotic romance. His novels featuring former CIA agent Nick Seven have garnered several awards and international critical praise. He is also a freelance writer, blogger, editor and photographer. When he isn’t pursuing those interests, he can be found in the Florida Keys, doing research in between parasailing and seeking out the perfect Mojito.

Links

Amazon: 

One Way Out (Nick Seven Book 9) - Kindle edition by Smith, Tim. Romance Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

eXtasy Books:

One Way Out (extasybooks.com)

Author page (AllAuthor):

Tim Smith, Author | Books | Series | Interview | Deals | Newsletter | Contact | Site | AllAuthor

Instagram:

Tim Smith (@timsmithauthor) • Instagram photos and videos 

Channeling Raymond Chandler – #Crime #Mystery #Historical @JanuaryBain

Blurb

A gripping tale of identity, crime, and survival…

Claire Preston, a script reader for a Hollywood movie studio, has recently lost her mother. Discovering she was adopted as a baby, she goes on a perilous quest for her true identity.

Assisted by her mentor, the seasoned private investigator, Jake Sterling, Claire delves deeper into her past, only to unearth a labyrinth of secrets more daunting than she ever envisioned. Soon, she finds herself in the crosshairs of a ruthless serial killer—an ex-Nazi fugitive evading justice for decades.

As Claire confronts her heritage, grapples with danger, and races against time to evade the clutches of a deadly predator, she finds herself wondering: Is uncovering the truth in a city of lies even possible?

Experience the chilling twists and turns of a tale where identity, mystery, and survival converge in the heart of 1968 Los Angeles.

Excerpt: Still Waters Run Deep

I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn’t care who knew it. I was everything the well-dressed private detective ought to be.

~Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep

Hollywood, October 1968

“Nice family.” The young woman who had introduced herself as Claire Preston crossed her shapely legs and nodded at the prominently displayed photo on his desk.

“I like to think so,” Jake Sterling said, his tone noncommittal. His new client was a looker while he was Mr. Average, average height, average looks, only things not average were his dogged search for the truth and his ability to take a hit, bullet or otherwise. But for once he wished he hadn’t bothered to set out the picture of a smiling woman and her two-point-three kids.

“I hope you’re better at being a private eye than you are at finding out that your wife cheats on you, with any man willing to shell out a dollar ninety-five at the five and dime.” She raised a sardonic eyebrow before shifting her weight to her other hip. And very trim hips they were. But apparently her brain was even sharper. He had bought the photograph from Woolworths for exactly a buck ninety-five.

“The truth will set you free, John 8:32,” Bishop squawked twice, adding a little sidestep on the wooden dowel for emphasis, preening with self-importance. His shimmery green feathers caught the shafts of light drifting through the venetian blinds, adding an unholy glow.

“Optimistic, isn’t he?” His possible new client took out a pack of Salems and nudged one out from its snug location with long slender fingers, the tips varnished to a high-gloss red. It made him want to slip into a matching convertible, turn up the music on the rebel song, “I Fought the Law” by the Bobby Fuller Four, and hand the redhead a mickey of lemon gin.

He couldn’t hold back the chuckle this time, though it escaped sounding more like a strangled snort. She had him dead to rights. He picked up his lighter, leaned forward in tandem with her, and lit the tip of her cigarette. She laid cool fingers against his hand to keep the light steady.

“Bishop has an uncanny way of pointing out my shortcoming. Just like my father intended, no doubt.”

“Rather conflicts with the motto on your business card. Nothing but the truth.” She inhaled, filling admirable lungs, and blew out such a perfect concentric smoke ring he had to stop himself from applauding.

He picked up the offending item from the scarred top of the old mahogany desktop he was proud to be sitting behind. His father had spent thirty years slaving over it selling insurance, week in and week out. He slipped the eight by ten photo in the top drawer, face down. “Clients like a family man. Care for a drink, Miss Preston?”

She shrugged shapely pale shoulders but didn’t turn him down. “Claire, please. It’s five p.m. somewhere, if that matters. Who’s the parrot named after?”

He reached into his bottom drawer and drew out the mickey of Jim Beam and two tumblers. Filled both with three fingers worth, half emptying the bottle, then handed one across the desk. Their fingers brushed again as she took it from him. “From a quote. It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window.”

“Good thing I’m a redhead. Raymond Chandler, Farewell, My Lovely. You as big a fan as your father?”

“It seemed like a nice neighborhood to have bad habits in.”

About the Author

January Bain firmly believes that stories unite us, that good stories help us to discover the commonality of the human experience by supporting values, empathy and understanding. January writes with her heart, mind, and soul, hoping that her novels will touch your life, giving you moments of freedom as you fly with her to other worlds.

The award-winning author has had the pleasure of select novels being turned into games, while her work is also available in different languages.

January and her husband live in rural Canada on peaceful acreage where a variety of wildlife comes to visit regularly and expects to be fed and paid attention to.

Blog Address - http://januarybainjourney.blogspot.ca/

Twitter Name – https://twitter.com/JanuaryBain

Facebook Page – https://www.facebook.com/january.bain

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6437282.January_Bain

Instagram - http://www.instagram.com/@january.bain

Buy link for City of Lies:  

https://amazon.com/City-Lies-Hardboiled-January-Bain-ebook/dp/B0CW1G1SKG/ref=sr_1_1

January Bain will award a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner.

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Is an alien the only one she can trust? #ShapeShifter #Alien #CopRomance @AlexanderLyndi

Blurb

A rash of mutated bodies discovered on planet Andaan reveals that someone is killing women in an attempt to turn them into reptiles. Taskforce agent Kylie Sanderson’s passion for her job drives her to discover why this is happening, who's behind the murders, and how to prevent more grotesque deaths.

Shapeshifting alien Griff comes to Andaan to stop his brethren from their deadly experiments. As one of the Okonnan lizard people, he struggles to gain Kylie's trust and to prove that his goal is the same as hers. In her eyes, Griff is an untested enemy.

When Kylie is abducted and subjected to the transformation process, the only one who tries to rescue her is Griff. On the run together with no support, can Kylie and Griff solve the mysteries of her past? How will Kylie deal with a very different passion competing with the one she holds for the job that means so much to her?

Buy Links

Paperback at Amazon • Paperback at Barnes & Noble • Hardback at Barnes & Noble • eBook at Amazon Kindle • eBook at Apple Books • eBook at Barnes & Noble • eBook at Kobo • eBook at Smashwords

Book Trailer 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hoa4rQmjBWA

Excerpt

After Kylie’s third drink, she found herself able to shut out the memories of the photos and the dumpsters, at least temporarily. She let the music seep deep into her, sitting in a pleasant haze. Background noise filtered in, the conversations making her feel she wasn’t alone. Cops knew how to treat other cops, especially on the worst days.

As she took another shot, she noticed a man at a table near the door stared at her, dissecting her in a way that felt not like he was undressing her, but more like he looked past her skin, into her psyche, or perhaps her soul. Kylie stared back, putting a forbidding expression on her face. Usually, that was enough to scare off a would-be masher. But it didn’t seem to faze this one.

The man’s persistence triggered a defensive response, and she lost interest in the alcohol. She left twelve plat coins on the counter, enough to cover her tab and something for Lin, and then headed for the door.

As she approached the man’s table, he stood up. “Please join me,” he said.

“No, thanks, I’m on my way out.”

“Please,” he said firmly. She stopped to look at him. That glance froze her steps. His eyes were the exact yellow tone of the dead woman’s. Exact.

She surveyed the room, but no one seemed to be paying attention. One gesture from her would have garnered assistance, but those eyes compelled her to wait. “Why should I?”

His voice softened. “I have information that could be of use to you.”

“Then perhaps you should come to the Cendiary. That’s where SIRT’s camped while this investigation is going on.” Her mind clicked along frantically trying to reject the half bottle of alcohol she’d consumed. There was something about this man, something about him. His eyes, but more than that. Taller than most men, and broad-shouldered. Hair, perfectly combed, his skin, without a blemish. Not even the hint of an old scar. Clothing, unremarkable. Hands, not quite perfectly proportioned, his fingers a little long, the nails even but lengthy for a man.

“No. I need to talk to you now.” His gaze continued to dance with hers describing a tango rather than something more casual..

She blinked and looked away. “This isn’t a good time, friend.”

He cocked his head, a, thin eyebrow raised. “You consider me your friend?”

His hesitation made her miss a beat, too. She hadn’t meant…’Friend’ was just a name to call someone she didn’t know, of course. “No, I don’t consider you my friend.” She frowned. “You can come to the Cendiary in the morning.” She turned to go, found her wrist caught in an iron grip.

When she looked over her shoulder, tugging on her captured hand, he held no apology in his eyes, no welcoming smile on his lips. He nodded to the empty chair beside his. “I need to talk with you, Investigator Kylie Sanderson. Please hear what I have to say. Before any more females are damaged or killed.”

About the Author

Lyndi Alexander always dreamed of faraway worlds and interesting alien contacts. She lives as a post-modern hippie in Asheville, North Carolina, a single mother of her last child of seven, a daughter on the autism spectrum, finding that every day feels a lot like first contact with a new species.

Author Links

Website and Blog https://lyndialexander.wordpress.com/

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lyndialexander13/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4185290.Lyndi_Alexander

Amazon Author Page

https://www.amazon.com/Lyndi-Alexander/e/B005GDYPU2/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/lyndi-alexander

Smashwords | Lyndi Alexander https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/lyndialexander

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/alexander_lyndi/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AlexanderLyndi or @AlexanderLyndi

A werewolf’s history – #Shifter #PNR #MFRWHooks

For today’s Book Hooks blog hop, I’m sharing another exclusive excerpt from my recently released paranormal erotic romance Fangs, Fur and the Single Girl. In this bit, we learn more about the history of the lone wolf shifter Zack Kane.

Enjoy!

Blurb

A tragically attractive vampire, a hunky wolf-man and a skeptical but susceptible career gal. What could possibly go wrong?

Bianca Sorenson understands obsession. Her phenomenally successful Vamp magazine feeds the popular fascination with the undead. The city is full of fanatics who want to believe vampires are real. Bianca knows that’s a fantasy. Then a blond, blue-eyed blood drinker walks into her office looking for a model’s job and turns her universe upside down. Jim Bush hasn’t been a vampire for long, but his terrible history and seductive hunger undermine Bianca’s single-minded ambition and her cherished self-control.

Trying to escape from Jim’s disturbing influence, she collides with a shaggy giant of a man whose mere presence inspires irresistible lust. When Zack Kane reveals that he’s a wolf shifter and claims Bianca as his mate, she finds herself on the horns of a supernatural dilemma. How can she resolve her feelings for her two mutually hostile lovers while defusing a city-wide conflict between the vampire clique and the werewolf pack?

Fans of Twilight: get ready for a wilder ride than you ever imagined!

The Hook

They found a quiet coffee shop around the corner. Bianca ordered a bagel with cream cheese and a double espresso. Zack had biscotti and a glass of milk. At six p.m., the place was mostly empty. They sat at a little corner table, their knees touching. If she focused, Bianca could make herself experience that minimal contact as comforting rather than arousing.

“So—tell me about your childhood, Zack. Where did you grow up? How did you get into the pet business?”

“Why are you asking me questions?” Zack scowled. “I thought you were going to tell me about the silver-haired stranger!”

“It’s relevant to my story. Believe me. Please.”

“Oh, alright.” He took a sip of his milk, then leaned back in his chair. “According to the records, my mother abandoned me on the doorstep of an orphanage in Queens. I grew up surrounded by other children nobody wanted.”

He paused. Bianca nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“It wasn’t such a terrible life. We had decent food and clothing, and went to school with the other kids in the neighborhood. But I always knew I was different. Everyone else felt it, too.

“Even when I was young, I was drawn to the wilderness. The city felt like a prison. I learned how to sneak out of the orphanage, take the subway over to Manhattan and wander around Central Park. Sometimes I’d stay overnight, wishing I could live there instead of being surrounded by walls of brick and stone.”

The server from behind the counter came by with a broom. Zack waited until the skinny young man had retreated before he resumed.

“I was twelve, just entering puberty, when I changed for the first time.”

“Oh, Zack!”

“Fortunately it happened when I was on one of my midnight visits. The moon was full. I raced around the deserted park, delirious with happiness. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.

“When I shifted back to human form, I was depressed and angry. I wanted to die. I’d never had any real friends, but now the other kids started to actively avoid me. Every time I set my wolf free, it became harder to return to ‘normal’ life. Finally, I ran away for good. I hitched a ride to the Shawangunks and disappeared into the forest to live as the beast I knew I was.”

“Could you—can you control the change?”

“To some extent. The full moon always triggers a shift, but now, if I concentrate, I can make it happen at other times. And strong emotion will sometimes cause me to shift involuntarily.”

“Like you did last night?”

Zack nodded.

“So how did you end up back in the city, running a pet store?”

“When I was sixteen or seventeen, running wild in the Gunks, I stepped into a bear trap. It broke my rear leg. I couldn’t shift back—couldn’t do anything but howl and suffer. Myron found me.”

“Myron?”

“Myron Kane, former owner of the pet shop. Though he lived in the city, he loved the country. He’d go hiking and fishing in the Gunks whenever he could. He rescued me from the trap. As soon as he’d released the jaws from my leg, I shifted back to human form. He didn’t bat an eye.

“He carried me back to his campsite, set my leg, and drove me back to the city in his pickup. When I’d recovered, he gave me a job in the store. Eventually he adopted me. Myron understood who and what I was. It never bothered him. ‘More things in heaven and earth, my boy,’ he’d say with that crooked grin of his. God, I loved that man.”

Zack’s eyes were luminous with unshed tears. Bianca reached across to squeeze his hand, though she understood the limits of compassion.

“He died on one of our jaunts into the mountains. Sudden heart attack.” Zack answered her unasked question. “I carried him back, the way he’d carried me.”

“And he left you the pet store?”

Zack nodded. “He adored animals. Especially dogs. Sometimes I think about getting a place in the country, but keeping the shop alive is my way of saying thanks.”

She still held his hand in hers. He placed his other hand on top.

“Now tell me, Bianca. Who was the man you ate lunch with today? And why does the sight of him make me want to tear him limb from limb?”

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1508-fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CXF755SM

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CXF755SM

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1540924

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl-lisabet-sarai/1145179250?ean=2940167695276

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6480071026

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/210320373-fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl

Add on Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/books/fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl-by-lisabet-sarai

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks!

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Of Outer Gods and Fallen Angels – #Fantasy #Reincarnation #Lovecraft @ReadersRoost

Book Blurb

Fall from grace…

In a twist of fate, these angels have done the unforgivable and have been kicked out. Some are left to roam freely while they plot their revenge. Some are immediately given a new job as a form of punishment. Some are even innocent and try to prove it themselves. But can any of them find their new purpose in the end?

Featuring stories by Michael Paige, Matthew Fryer, Bruno Lombardi, Barend Nieuwstraten III, Kelly Barker, A.E. Lowan, C.L. Hart, and J.E. Feldman.

Of Outer Gods and Fallen Angels by C.L. Hart

Gerry Clifford appears to be simply a small, frail older man who has fallen victim to early-onset dementia.

Yadira Root appears to be an impossibly ancient woman who volunteers her time at the care center where people like Gerry live out their final days.

A conversation between the pair reveals unexpected truths about both of them.

Buy Link

http://books2read.com/DSPFallen

Excerpt

For eons, I have been looking for a way to right the wrongs committed at the time of my birth. I have once again encountered Malak, son of Lucifer; he with his heart burst open like a snowdrop’s pouting petals. However, to my dismay, Malak, the world-builder and shadow-weaver, has forgotten who he was. He is bound to a broken, dying body, although at night, his soul roams free.

In our first meeting at the care center where he now resides, I approached Malak cautiously, unsure of how he would respond to my presence. Bewildered disorientation had replaced the once alert, inquisitive look in his eyes. Like a spark struggling to ignite, I noted a faint glimmer of recognition, but it was obscured by the murk of confusion overtaking his decaying memory.

"Malak," I said softly as I took his hands in mine. "It's your old friend Yadira. Do you remember who you once were? World-builder, shadow weaver, beloved son of Lucifer."

It was evident from his expression that his mind was seeking an elusive memory. A longing for understanding replaced his puzzlement.

"Who... who am I?" he mumbled, his voice feeble and uncertain. "I feel like fragments of a shattered mirror, lost in a labyrinth of forgotten dreams."

A pang of sympathy pierced my heart. Seeing this brilliant being trapped in a decaying vessel, his bright, inquisitive soul longing for release, was tragic. I took his trembling hand in mine, hoping my touch would serve as an anchor, reconnecting him to his forgotten self.

"Malak, you were once a weaver of worlds, a creator of infinite possibilities," I explained. "Your mind held the secrets of the cosmos, and your hands shaped realms beyond imagination."

Despite the fragility of his body, a spark of ancient power flickered within him as he struggled to break free from the fog of forgetfulness.

"I remember whispers of worlds born from the rhythm of my thoughts," he murmured. "Visions of beauty and darkness once flowed through me like a river of eternal creation."

I continued to paint a picture of his former existence, hoping to unleash the dormant power lying buried deep within.

"Malak, reclaim your identity," I urged. "I will help you mend the fractures in your soul, reuniting the shattered fragments, and restoring the balance disrupted long ago. The broken body that confines you is insignificant compared to the boundless potential within. The key to redemption and rectification lies in you. Please assist me in redressing the wrongs of the past. With you healed and my parents reunited, we will forge a future where your power, reclaimed and revitalized, can help restore balance to the cosmos."

About the Author

C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is described as The Mad Scribe of the Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That Should Not Be.

When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes will be considered palatable.

Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch horrors.

Follow C. L. Hart

C. L. Hart Amazon Author Page

https://bit.ly/CLHartAmazonAuthor

C. L. Hart Newsletter

https://www.subscribepage.com/clhart

Naughty Netherworld Press Blog

http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com

Naughty Netherworld Press Books

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My character, my mirror – #HardBoiledPI #GuestBlog @DanaKingAuthor

By Dana King (Guest Blogger)

I asked my guest today to tell us about the inspiration for his main character Nick Forte, in particular whether Nick resembles him.~ Lisabet

I can safely say Nick Forte includes aspects of my personality; when I first thought of him, Nick Forte was me.

I was in the process of disengaging from my life as a musician when a small controversy broke out about whether an audition had been rigged. I had a little distance by then and decided to have some fun with it, so I wrote a short story about a private detective who had been a trumpet player and was engaged to investigate the audition. All the characters were friends of mine under different names, but I got to be the star, of course. I spent a couple of weeks reading a few Mickey Spillane novels to get some idea of the style and sent hard copies of “Auditioning Can Be Murder” to my friends. They loved it, so I wrote another for my current job at the time, then the next. All were so well received I decided to try my hand at a Nick Forte novel.

So now you’re wondering how many people I’ve killed, as Forte has a handful of notches on his trusty .45. None – yet, honest to God - but that’s about the only part of him that’s not me. We’ll get more into that a little later.

The best feedback I get about the Forte novels concerns the relationship he has with his daughter, Caroline. Forte is a divorced father – like me – with one daughter – like me - who makes every effort to be as involved in her life as he can even though he doesn’t live with her anymore. (You may sense a pattern developing.) Nick spends time with Caroline in every book and, unless the scene has to do with a specific plot point, everything they do together is taken directly, sometimes literally, from things The Sole Heir and I have done. Forte can be a violent prick at times; it’s his relationship with Caroline that not only keeps him grounded but keeps readers rooting for him.

Forte is also an inveterate smartass; he can’t help himself. It gets him into trouble. Sometimes a lot of trouble. Been there and done that myself, and since I haven’t figured out how not to do that in 68 years, I wouldn’t bet your house payment on me figuring it out anytime soon.

Forte and I also have a keen hatred of injustice, or even unfairness. His reactions are more severe than mine – sure they are; I can get him out of literally anything – but his distaste for such situations is very similar to mine. For example, in Off the Books he notices a man putting something into a woman’s drink while she’s in the restroom. I hope I would do what he does were I ever to see something like that, though it’s safe to say I would not carry it as far.

Nick Forte is so much like me I have mixed emotions about him, but he also serves a purpose. James Ellroy once said Raymond Chandler wrote about the kind of man he hoped he was, while Dashiell Hammett wrote about the kind of man he was afraid he was. I write another series, and Penns River Detective Ben “Doc” Dougherty is the kind of man I hope I’d be if confronted with similar circumstances. Nick Forte is the man I’m afraid I would be. Not evil, but with sometimes unpleasant boundaries. Writing him is fun, but it also makes me think about things I might not otherwise ponder, which includes better problem resolution skills.

Blurb

Nick Forte has lost his detective agency and makes ends meet doing background checks and other paperwork. He pays for everything else through jobs he takes for cash and without any written contract. What starts out as a simple investigation into a traffic accident exposes Forte to people who have truly lost everything and have no viable hope of reclaiming their lives. That doesn’t sit well with Forte, leading him and his friend Goose Satterwhite to take action that ends more violently than anyone expected.

“The return of Chicago private detective Nick Forte, the tough protagonist of two Shamus Award nominated novels, is well worth the wait. Nick’s latest escapade Off The Books—the first in nearly six years—will surely earn additional praise for the acclaimed series.”

~ J.L .Abramo, Shamus Award-winning author of Chasing Charlie Cha

"Nick Forte reminds me of Robert B. Parker's Spenser: a PI with a finely tuned sense of justice who doesn't take anyone's s***. Any fan of hardboiled detective fiction is in for a helluva ride."

~ Chris Rhatigan, former publisher of All Due Respect Books

Excerpt

I told Jason Worthington I’d find his daughter in a week. I surfed the internet and searched flophouses, cathouses, bar rooms, pool rooms, jails, hospitals, morgues, and SRO hotels. Found her in a pay-by-the-hour motel at 10:48 p.m. two days after her father and I spoke.

Worthington would have preferred me to find her alive.

Cindy’s body was warm, the spike still in her arm. She looked as if she’d fallen asleep waiting and didn’t hold my tardiness against me.

I did what any real-life professional investigator would do, and what no fictional private eye would even consider.

I called the police.

The cops kept me at the scene half the night, at the station until dawn. They asked the same questions both places and got the same answers.

“Why were you there?”

“Her father asked me to find her.”

“Why was the father looking for her?”

“My guess would be to keep what happened from happening. You’ll have to ask him yourself to be sure.”

The usual bullshit.

I called Worthington on my way out of the police station. Told him I had news but would prefer to deliver it in person. I didn’t suppose I needed to tell him anything after that, but it wouldn’t hurt to allow him time to prepare before I scarred the rest of his life.

He answered the door already dressed for work. Navy suit, white shirt with French cuffs, gold links. His tie was blue with small designs, maybe horses, gathered in a perfect four-square knot. Red suspenders. A suit coat hung from the newel post behind him. His forehead gleamed beneath a silvery hairline. His teeth were as white and straight as a Klan meeting.

About the Author

Off the Books is Dana King’s sixth Nick Forte private investigator novel. Two of the earlier books (A Small Sacrifice and The Man in the Window) received Shamus Award nominations from the Private Eye Writers of America. Dana also writes the Penns River series of police procedurals set in a small Western Pennsylvania town, as well as one standalone novel, Wild Bill, which is not a Western. His short fiction appears in numerous anthologies and web sites. He is a frequent panelist at conferences and reads at Noirs at Bars from New York to North Carolina.

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