Author Archives: Staff

Book Excerpt

(The setting: January, after midnight, on a lake near Jackson Hole, Wyoming.)
. . . . He resumed trailing. Suddenly another set of tracks appeared—crossing beneath the first set. Smaller tracks; the Iceman!
Ben took the new course, following the long arc until the larger prints paralleled it. The two converged. He squatted over them for a moment then followed the smaller set. Suddenly the soles of Arctic boots appeared, toes in the snow. He rushed to the prone figure. “Iceman!” No response. Around the head crimson seeped into the white fluff. He bent over the body, searching for wounds. The kill was fresh.
Ben rolled the body over: Entry wound at the bridge of the nose. Unglazed eyes stared up at him. Despite the temperature the corpse’s throat was warm, the arms limp. He opened the heavy jacket and searched the pockets. No ID. No watch, money, anything. Gone! The envelope of information, promised him, was absent. No papers. The fingertips had been surgically removed.
Snow crunched behind him. He bolted and turned, his gloved thumb pulling the hammer back on the automatic. A light flicked on behind him. He raised his own while shielding his face with the other hand.
“Hello, Ben” the intruder said in an octave above the wind.
“Jesus! What the hell . . . ?
Behind the collar and below the hat a pair of blue eyes glared. “We couldn’t let this happen, Ben.”
“We?” Lowering the pistol, Ben stalled, his thoughts blurred.
Two suppressed flashes burst above the tall figure’s coat pocket, stabbing the darkness, burning flesh. Ben reeled backwards, falling over the dead messenger. The assassin unscrewed the hot silencer and dropped it into his coat pocket, then bent over the dying agent and unzipped the fleece jacket. “Sorry, Ben. It’s the nature of the beast.” He relieved the agent of personals. “Where’s the envelope, Ben?”
Ben coughed blood. “You . . . bastard.”
“You dropped it, Ben?” he demanded. Ben was gone. He pushed the dead agent’s Glock and remote into his own pockets and pulled a glove off a hand. The cold steel blade cut through fingers easily. “It’s the nature of the beast, Ben.

The Buzz

Given Greenwell’s extensive background in the classified security arena, it is no wonder he wrote such a compelling novel. From the opening chapter, he sets into motion the intrigue and clandestine operations that are occurring within our own United States. Most books of this genre have a setting in a foreign county, but this story puts the reader in the center of the inner sanctum of some of the highest ranking elected officials in our government. He carefully introduces a complex set of characters engaged in secret operations within our own country driven by the need of a rogue senator trying to make the world right outside of the current policies of written laws. He paints a picture of behind the door political funding kept out of sight by shroud manipulations to operate Team Zebra on a special project. He skillfully describes the settings from Jackson Hole, Lake Tahoe to Biloxi keeping the characters in focus on their mission. There is one operative that knows how to quash the rogue operations and assumes a special identity in “project 7.” This kind of book is so realistic that it leaves the reader with the haunting thought “that it can happen in real life.” Throughout the book the characters are real people involved in their own lives coping with their own feelings, needs and thoughts. The tone and tint of this book is just right given the recent United States government security disclosures. I totally recommend Dale Greenwell’s Code: Team Zebra (project 7) as the ☆☆☆☆☆ book of 2014 as a must read. Have some time because you won’t be able to put it down or stop turning the pages.

L Lee Parmeter Author “War Stories and Little White Lies.” 9 January, 2014.

How To Purchase

Code: Team Zebra is available through our bookstore.

About The Author

You can learn more about Dale Greenwell on his author page.

Book Excerpt

This morning started out so well, I thought I was on a roll. I hoped the rest of the day would be as great. It wasn’t, but how could I know it would be raining bodies before noon.

I put on one of my best business suits. It’s a dark, dark gray pin stripe. The jacket is double-breasted and the slit skirt doesn’t quite make it down to mid-thigh. I’ve never been turned down during an interview, but it never hurts to flash a bit of leg at a male interviewer. It’s fun to watch where their eyes wander during the discussion. A lot of men have trouble looking a woman in the eye. More often they are gazing at the assets a good bit south of the face.

I was heading for Little Rock’s Midtown Atrium Towers Building, a new expanse of glass and steel in the downtown area. In keeping with the new architecture, an atrium reaches to the top between two buildings. I would be talking to a Wayne Harmon at Cyber-Technology, a computer and internet consulting firm.

At quarter past nine, fifteen minutes before my appointment, I walked through the huge glass doors, which opened for me with an automatic whoosh. The main floor entrance was through a curved glass wall going up all twelve floors. A similar wall of glass faced me from the rear of the lobby and the sign over the far doorway read: Parking Garage. I glanced around the lobby at the large planter areas replete with foliage and flowers. There were even a couple of imported palm trees; far from native to Arkansas. Buildings stretched upward to my left and to my right. The structure smelled like a new building. The faint but pungent aroma left from new carpet glued to the floor drifted past me. I checked the directory and learned Cyber-Technology was in Tower B, the one on the right.

The elevators were glass and brass clinging to the walls of the atrium.
It would be an interesting ride — I’m not afraid of heights, but I don’t like looking straight down at nothing between me and a sudden stop at the bottom. I was almost across the lobby when I heard the shout from behind me.

The Buzz

John Achor draws the audience into the mystery immediately with “raining bodies”. The reader’s curosity is hooked as the story progresses with the addition of friends to help solve the mystery. A growing romance with the police detective holds the reader’s attention as the killers are tracked through the evolving story. I enjoyed every page and would recommend it to all who read mysteries. I’m looking forward to more Casey Fremont books. Thank you, Mr. Achor.~ 5-Star Review, Rita Dortch, Amazon

I’ve been a fan of mystery stories for 50 years, mostly by authors such as Arthur Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes) and Agatha Christie (Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple). Almost all of their stories took place in England back in the late 1800’s and early to mid 1900’s. So I really wondered how I would react to John Achor’s ‘One, Two, Kill a few’ featuring a female sleuth and in the modern day setting of Little Rock, Arkansas. I was to wonder no more as I approached the end of chapter 1.

This was a refreshing twist to the old mysteries I had read many times over and was used to. It was interesting seeing Casey Freemont get mixed up with some murders and try to solve them with the help of her ‘accomplice’ friends. As she gets closer to the truth she proves to have more guts and courage than would expect from a gal who’s idle thoughts are mainly directed to finding ways to get a man in bed with her. Romance novel fans, there’s something in the book for you too!

John Achor’s first attempt at a mystery novel is a huge success in my mind. And as his popularity grows I recommend you buy this first book at the bargain basement price of $2.99 (A lot of ‘bang’ for the buck). The price will surely go up if he cranks out any more Casey Freemont mysteries as good as this one. ~5-Star Review, Bob Betts, Amazon

How To Purchase

One, Two – Kill a Few is available through our bookstore.

About The Author

You can learn more about John Achor through his interview and connect with him on his author page.

Book Excerpt

After a brief pause to steady his nerves, he stood straight and walked deliberately toward the bus. Its folding front door stood open and he could already hear the grunts and groans from within – the death throes of his marriage.

Carol looked up first. Six identical cots flanked the center aisle, three on each side, beginning at the rear and stretching three-quarters of the vehicle’s length forward. Trap stopped at the top step, unable to continue. His weight had rocked the bus and caught her attention. Her eyes flew wide as saucers, staring at her husband over her lover’s naked back. Her mouth moved but words failed her, like a television with the sound muted. They lay on the cot in the far right corner.

Anger dislodged the lump in Trap’s throat. Blood boiled in his veins, searing him from head to toe with a rage the likes of which he had never known. At the same time he wanted to cry – to fall to his knees and beg her to come to him, but it was too late for tears. He took another step and stood at the mouth of the aisle. It felt like the entrance of a tunnel into a house of horrors, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the walk. Without realizing it, he moved his right hand to the butt of his gun. Finally, her lover realized something was wrong and looked at her face, then back over his shoulder. Trap looked into the young face and realized it was worse than he had thought.

Carol’s lover sprang from her like a cat from a hot stove. He was young, maybe eighteen. Probably one of her students. He grabbed his jeans from the floor and stumbled back against the emergency door. A white skirt with large blue flowers clung to the leg of the jeans as he hopped on his left foot and stabbed at the blue denim with his right. It was the same skirt Carol had been wearing the day Trap came home early and surprised her. The young man’s foot found its way through. Carol’s skirt fell to the floor.

“So this is why you taught summer school,” Trap said through clenched teeth, barely audible. He took a step, then another, his feet heavy, like in a dream. It felt like walking in waist-deep water. Lover boy switched to his right foot and stabbed at his pants with the left. The bus shook from his effort. Terror burned in his eyes, like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car. Trap felt himself losing control but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. Every fiber of his being wanted to put a bullet in the young man’s chest. All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared him for the emotional storm that consumed him. He tasted blood and realized he had bitten through his bottom lip.

“Don’t,” Carol said. She was sitting up now, with her knees drawn tight against her naked breasts. Her back pressed against the metal corner of the bus. Eighty degrees outside and she was shivering. “Don’t do it.”

The Buzz

“The novel opens with a prologue depicting the final hours of Dale’s trial in a seemingly corrupt courtroom with an arrogant sheriff and a gun-toting judge, combined with an inexperienced court-appointed lawyer and a gallery that’s clearly out for Dale’s blood. The scene resonates with the reader, leaving the distinct impression that Dale did not receive a fair and impartial trial. The reader’s sympathies are tested from the beginning, though, by Dale’s recklessly irresponsible choices and behavior – indeed, at times he appears to be his own worst enemy.” — Tamara D. Blackwell, Mississippi Library Association

Carl’s books just keep getting better. I really liked his first two and he hasn’t disappointed with his latest. The characters are very real and the suspense keeps you wanting to read without putting the book down. I recommend everyone read this and all of his novels.~ 5-Star Review, Granny 48, Amazon

Wow! I loved this book. I liked the real feel of the characters and the twist and turns of their lives. I liked that every time I thought I knew what was about to happen I was wrong. And every time I thought I knew who the killer was I was wrong. I have read Carl’s The Night Train and Norton Road and his books just get better and better. In my opinion Carl Purdon is going to be right on up there with Dee Henderson, Lynette Eason and Terri Blackstock in a very short time. I can hardly wait for his next book!~ 5-Star Review, Leann Goodin, Amazon

How To Purchase

You can download the first chapter and purchase “Blinders” through our bookstore.

About The Author

Carl Purdon lives in Pontotoc, Mississippi with his wife and two of their four children. Carl grew up wanting to write novels. In 2012 he published THE NIGHT TRAIN, the story of an abused boy who runs away in search of a normal life.

In 2013 he released NORTON ROAD, the story of Pap Jones. Mischievous. Cagey. Until his antics pit him against an ex-cop bent on putting him in his place.

In 2014, Carl released his third novel, BLINDERS, which probes the gray area between right and wrong.

Carl writes contemporary/mainstream fiction with a Southern flavor he calls ‘Homegrown Fiction’.