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.”
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.
I would love to hear your comments about that little taste.
What do you think is going to happen in the third book?
