Is Drowned by Fear out yet?
Have you finished the next book? These are the two most common questions I am getting right now.
I am actively working on writing the final installment of the Woodmere Trilogy.
Editors are lined up to review it at the beginning of June 2014.
I am as excited to put this book out as you are to read it!
Here is a sneak peek into Drowned by Fear
The blindfold covering not just his eyes, but from the top of his forehead to the top of his upper lip, was removed. Relief briefly filled his lungs with fresh air. The putrid stench permeating from the rag still lingered in his sinuses, but was quickly dissipating with every breath. As his nose cleared, so did his thoughts.
Where am I? Looking around was pointless; for although the blindfold had been removed, he remained blind to his surrounds without light.
Think, he silently commanded of his mind.
Dressed as Mr. Thornton, Mason had gone out to meet Greasy Gill in the warehouse district of Minneapolis. With the revival of the industrial park into a thriving art epicenter complete with new condos, meeting in the North Loop was becoming risky. With Mr. Vaughn’s latest venture, art thefts from this area were the next logical step after residential thefts. That is if thievery was still his objective.
That’s why the last crew was left to the prosecutors. The marks had been so carefully planned. The only chance of capture was if they had been tipped off. Lights above his head briefly flickered to the rhythm of his thoughts before being plunged into the darkness once more. But why am I here?
A damp rag had covered his nose and mouth as strong arms encircled him like a bear. Breathing underwater would have been less of a struggle. He thought hard about the faint odor on the cloth. It was the smell of unconsciousness.
Chloroform. The faint smell of it dissipates long before the effect on its victim wears off. With shaky balance, he stood and began feeling his way around. A rough brick surface was cold and left his hands with a moist slimy residue. By why?
This question always remained. Why had the book been taken? Why had he been taken? Why had Mr. Vaughn taken an interest in him all those years ago? Why?
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” A voice said from his left. “Those boys get a little carried away when they are told they get to drug someone.”
“Who are you? Where am I? What do you want?” he demanded of the unidentified darkness.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Those are the wrong questions.” The reply seemed to be circling him. “So much was invested in you and that’s the best you can come up with?”
Turning his back to the wall Mason strained his ears to the silence. A casual scrape of a shoe came from his right followed by another. Someone was walking towards him. Expectations of his abilities caused his mind to falter.
Why can’t there be light? How am I going to get out of here? What do I do once I am free? Can I ever be free of Mr. Vaughn? Questions of his current situation, some pertinent while others were not, followed close behind the panic squeezing his throat like anaphylactic shock.
“While you get your thoughts and breathing under control, let’s talk about something else. How’s your wife and new baby?” That question caused Mason to stop breathing entirely. “I heard it’s a baby girl.”
“H-how did you hear about my d-d-daughter?” Mason managed to stuttered in a hoarse whisper.
“I know more than you could possible imagine.” A warm breath on his left ear came with the voice. “Sometimes it is best to let one’s child get away with little things to build confidence and trust. As a father you need to learn this. I let you keep that silly little book because you did a good job. Prison is not a desirable vacation destination. But now you are learning of things you are not meant to know. To help you out, the bottom feeder you have been associating with has been returned to his natural habitat.”
Closing his mouth, Mason knew where he was. The surface of the brick walls should have told him sooner, but he hadn’t been thinking clearly. This was the warehouse of execution near the St. Anthony Falls.
A place where murder can easily be passed off as suicide.
“Take good care of your daughter or in a few years I will need to add her to my collection, just like your niece Autumn.” As the man behind the threat began to back away, Mason’s ear felt as cold as his soul. “Success has a price, remember that.”
I would love to hear your comments about that little taste.Hinges creaked as a heavy steel door was opened. A silhouette of black was revealed by the light streaming in from behind. The sound of rushing water drowned out the sound of footsteps approaching from the far back corner. As Mason stepped away from the wall to get a better look at the features of the dark figure, a rag was placed over his face as arms trapped him from behind. The slightly sweet smell of unconsciousness once again overtook him.
What do you think is going to happen in the third book?
