Add to your TBR list Mobster’s Bones Troy and Alessandra’s Story from the Mobster Series by Amy Rachiele
Book 1 in Series is Mobster’s Girl Download a sample
Add to your TBR list Mobster’s Bones Troy and Alessandra’s Story from the Mobster Series by Amy Rachiele
Book 1 in Series is Mobster’s Girl Download a sample
Who says horror stories have to be long to be terrifying? In this collection of flash fiction stories, murder is done out of habit, impulsively, framed on someone else, and carefully planned and executed.
“This was Melony’s first night shift at the fast food brunch. Melony’s boss had made her clean the entire kitchen and it was her anger for him that helped her finish the job instead of collapsing on the floor. She couldn’t wait to finish as soon as possible so she could go back home.
She isn’t afraid of walking alone in the streets at 2 a.m. in the middle of winter. Everyone must have fallen asleep by now. Even psychos prefer their warm bed to a murder on a cold winter night.
But cold is making her fasten her pace. If she keeps it up, she will be home in 10 minutes and crawl into her warm bed. “You can do this, you can do this,” she keeps whispering to the little voice inside her head, whining that she can’t do it.
What is that noise behind her? Footsteps? No, it can’t be. She’s sure of that; however, she’s not turning back to check it out. She is fastening her pace even more.
But the noise behind her is not stopping…”
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Gripping my chest is the only way to hold myself together or what’s left of me will fall out. The past week has enlightened me on one thing-I don’t care.
Megan, Mobster’s Girl
I didn’t even hesitate. I took two strides and blasted him in the face with my fist. He was ready for it this time-unlike in church. He tried to hit me back but I ducked and smashed him again.
Antonio, Mobster’s Girl
You can’t help what family you’re born into or what lies they keep from you. You can’t help it if they mold and shape you just the way they wanted. Are monsters born or made?
Antonio and Megan have a timeless issue. They were told to stay away from each other. They try, they really do. But they are drawn to each other.
Antonio is eighteen and the up and coming mob boss of Palmetto, New Jersey. Megan is a girl uprooted from the grassy plains of Ireland at the age of five. Now she’s seventeen and faced with horrors she never thought existed.
“May I kiss you, Miss Sybrina?”
Darkening irises show me the fire that burns under her skin. She wants me, just as much as I want her. Her entire body stiffens except her head, which nods very subtly yes. I reach out my arm to caress her around the waist, hauling her close to me. I stare into her eyes that are distinctly thirsty with need, using my hand to tip her head up and lean down, pressing my lips to hers. My need is triumphant, reveling in the sensation, kicking away the blandness that tortures my spirit and replaced by sweet berries in springtime. A flood of core memories stabs at the vibrancy awakened in me. The touching and kissing become ravenous, stronger than bloodlust. Sybrina is wild with passion… for me. My hold tightens and my hands roam, wanting more. It is a feverish awareness that in all my long years I have never experienced.
An alarm whirrs in the deep recess of my mind. Sybrina is fighting against me. The cloud of passion pops like a boil. Audible now is her struggle to be free of me.
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The story is set in the 1800’s and the way that Amy has written it makes you transport back to that time and how lives were lived etc and get a feel for the characters and visualise them. What I really enjoyed about this story is that it wasn’t rushed and I feel the historical timing of the book has been very well researched.
I really could not put this book down and I would love to see future books within this as I feel there is so much more that can be done with these characters
I must say that this another fine read from Amy the book is very believable and makes you fall in love with the characters! I am giving this book a well earned 5 stars. I’m sat here now happily waiting for more from this very talented writer!
My advise is to go and get this book on release day you will not be disappointed and while you are the check out her other books!
This is an interesting aspect of the American Military that gets very little coverage. Author has most definitely been there and done that – he gets the feel exactly right; just ask any 811X0.
Anyone who enjoys well-crafted military fiction, and any past or present USAF Security Specialist should thoroughly enjoy this book.
Now, would like to see something about the missile field side of the house.
Tango Yankee Sar’nt Hobbs.
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I stopped in Arkansas after leaving New York City and my married life of 22 years. Little did I know the course my life was about to take… Meet Pepper: She likes poetry, Eric Clapton, Furry handcuffs and Hot Candle Wax. Novella #1 here.
My waitress wore an oval name tag on her uniform dress on which the name “Pepper” was stamped in black letters. She appeared to be around 28 years old and bore no ring on her left hand. Her hair was long, fine, brownish and was held back in a loose pony tail by a scrunchy. This gave her an innocent, yet devious look as she smiled and lowered her eyes shortly after mine met hers. As I’d said I have been practiced holding my gaze on the hardened population of New York City women for years. It’s a powerful thing to hold a gaze with a woman until she looks away. It is especially powerful when coupled with a slight smile and if she decides to break contact in a downward motion. A sign of submission; I like that.
Her uniform was traditional white with red fringe, a one piece waitress dress stamped out in some Chinese sweat shop. It appeared to be about half a size small on her and was stretched tightly around her waist and chest forcing her perfectly formed smallish breasts upward to the point of conservative teasing at the neck V which was held in place by a single large and straining white ornamental button. The thick polyester material molded around her just tightly enough to give me an idea of her true frame which was hidden beneath, which was surly firm and spectacular. I felt the unfamiliar sensation of testosterone as it began surging through my body. Before I had signed the divorce papers I had always managed to keep it in check. Now the willpower to do so was no longer needed and I squashed it immediately and with a definite finality.
I began to let nature take its course unchecked. There was no need for restraint anymore. No feeling of guilt. I had removed the governor from my mind’s carburetor. My body was no longer a U-haul van loping down the highway at a prescribed speed limit, it was an iRoc Z and I felt the need to drop the hammer.
Sometimes you have to say: “What the fuck?” “What the fuck” gives you freedom…”
Oh God, it’s that little turd from Risky Business, Booger. No wait, that was Revenge of the Nerds. In Risky Business his name was Miles.
It had been years since Miles had made an appearance. Parts of my brain, and body were awakening from a long winter’s hibernation. A sudden surge of adrenaline flooded my body as I turned to face Pepper at the booth.
You better go easy on that…
Shut up, Oprah.
Time had come to repeat the experiment once more, only this time all the safety equipment was to be removed, no goggles, no gloves, and no thick white lab coat. I was in new territory and I felt a little nervous, unsure of the outcome in a new set of theoretical steps I was to be taking. Reading about all of this for years was one thing, but applying these theories in a practical setting to their intended conclusion was another. But hey, if Theodor Kaluza could teach himself to swim by reading about it this should be a snap for me.
When she reached out to hand me the menu I took it from her intentionally brushing my index finger ever so slightly against inside of her wrist, where the skin was thin with a high concentration of nerve endings. Striking like a stealthy Ninja, she shuttered, then blushed. It was the sign I was looking for.
You see there’s a myth to these Italian and Spanish model types that had invaded Manhattan. They were revered as being some sort of mystical Adonis types, thought have some sort of magic because of their accents, dark hair, and complexions. Rubbish. They have no mysterious magical powers, no greater kung fu. The simple fact is that their culture allows touching in public and ours does not. Basically, they just don’t know any better and call it swank; or is that swag?. I get the two confused. I mean seriously, most of them aren’t even smart enough to figure out what it is that they have.
Touching is exotic, exciting and a sort of cultural taboo that really works to one’s favor here in America, England too so I am told – if executed properly. The key is light feathery contact – less than 2 seconds on the first go. Now for the follow up, make eye contact… speak directly to her left eye, bypass the logical side of her mind on the right, use the pipeline directly to her emotions.
“Wow Pepper, you have really pretty eyes.”
Now I should note: In order for any of this to work you have to be sincere. You simply can’t say one thing and mean another. There’s nothing mystical or magical about it. When you truly believe something and verbalize it the message comes across in your body language that, as I’ve said, women are innately tuned in to. Eighty percent of human communication is done through body language and thus directly to the subconscious, bypassing reason. Pepper truly did have amazingly beautiful light blue eyes, and I projected the shit out of this to her very core, by momentary making them the center of my universe.
She blushed once more and half closed those beautiful blue eyes, smiled and I held eye contact until she looked shyly down at the table, and smiled.
She responded with a quiet and shy: “Thank you.”
Dude, You nailed it!
I can now sit down in the booth.
“Can… can I get you something to drink?”
“I’d like some coffee please.”
Though it was after nine local time it was often a habit of mine to drink one cup of coffee before bed. For some odd reason it seemed to help me sleep better.
Pepper awkwardly spun around and hurried off to the waitress station with a giddy schoolgirl smile on her lips. I enjoyed watching her leave. The waitress uniform really did this view justice. She was tall and thin, well not so much thin as she was athletic. She had a spring in her step that caused her loosely tied long brown hair to flounce about her shoulders in a very attractive way. I’m guessing that she had been a cheerleader. I imagined her shoulder blades naked. For me the sexiest part of a woman is the upper back and lower neck. I’d studied female shoulder blades, upper back, and nape of the neck at length in my reading. In my head I was quite familiar with the correct pressure points and erogenous zones.
I cleared my head by setting up my laptop. It was time I joined the real world by turning my cell phone back on. In my computer bag I also carried a copy of the latest Sage Johnstone novel, Wolf Pup that I placed on the table next to the glass of ice water that had been served by Pepper upon my arrival at this booth. The glass was now profusely sweating in the Arkansas humidity and a ring of clear purified water was pooling around its base. I took a sip and the water tasted oddly strange, different than Brooklyn water.
Turning on one’s phone in this day and age was a snap. All I had to do was log in and enter my new, single person’s credit card number and the 40 dollars for unlimited voice, data, and text would kick in almost immediately. Which would have been great had I remembered to charge the damn thing. I found it to be a friggin’, brick when I retrieved it from my pocket, deader than my sex life had been over the last 18 years.
No matter, I would charge it when I reached my hotel room.
Pepper returned with a tray on which he had balanced a large plastic coffee pot, a cup and saucer, a tiny pitcher of half and half, and a small square porcelain container with assorted packets of sugar and artificial sweeteners. She gingerly set each object down in front of me with great care and poured piping hot black coffee into the coffee cup.
“Have you made your choice?”
“I have…” I paused staring deeply into her sky blue left eye with a slight smile. Once more she blushed and looked down with a slight smile.
You’re really better at this than you think.
Not now, Miles!
“… I’ll have a chicken fried steak with white cream gravy, and french fries. It wouldn’t upset me if a little of gravy spilled over onto the fries.”
After a short delay Pepper began writing on her order pad. She kept eyeing the book.
“I read that book, Wolf Pup. It’s by Sage Johnstone, right?”
You and the other six people this month.
“Why, yes it is.”
I began sipping the coffee Pepper had poured for me.
“I downloaded it on Kindle after I saw it featured in the New York Times indie book review. They gave them four-and-a-half stars… I thought it deserved 5! Oh my God, it was so hot! She’s a genius!”
Immediately the hot coffee I had just sipped bypassed my larynx and dribbled straight into my lungs. I began choking.
OOOOOH! Did she just say the NEW YORK Fuckin’ TIMES!
The Write Romantics have made some lovely friends in the year or so since we started blogging. Some have come along for interviews, others we have met in person at RNA events or through Twitter and Facebook. Many of these lovely new friends of ours have also agreed to be contributors to our charity anthology. We thought it was only right to set up a page on the blog where we could share news from our good friends and tell you a bit about what they’ve been up to since the last time they dropped by…
Carol, who was already a successful journalist and non-fiction author alongside her medical and teaching careers, launched her debut novel earlier this year. Here she tells us what’s been happening since her last visit to the blog:
Linda is one of our wonderful anthology contributors and you can read the sneak peek of her story on the anthology page. Linda’s first novel ‘The Paradise Trees’ was published by Legend Press in February 2013 and her follow-up novel ‘The Cold Cold Sea’ is realised this month. Find out more about Linda here.
‘The Paradise Trees’ - There is someone watching Alicia’s every move. Someone who has a plan of his own. Someone who will not stop until the people he loves most can rest together, in paradise.
‘The Cold Cold Sea’ – No-one can underestimate a mother’s love for her child, and no-one can predict the lengths one will go to, to protect her family.
Merryn Allingham (aka Isabelle Goddard)
The last time Isabelle came to see us on the blog she just had the one name but, as she has so many stories to tell, it turned out one name just wasn’t enough! Isabelle has popped back to tell us all about her alter ego, Merryn, the exciting news about her new novel and her upcoming plans:
I’m no longer writing pure romance or setting my books in the Regency. Instead I’ve moved on a few years to Victorian England and changed genre, too – to mystery and suspense with a sprinkling of romance. A new genre deserves a new name and so Merryn Allingham has come into being. ‘The Crystal Cage’ is the first Allingham novel and tells the story of a long-lost tragedy, and the way echoes from the past can powerfully influence the life of a modern day heroine. The next few books will see another move timewise, a suspense trilogy set in India and wartime London during the 1930s and 1940s. I’ve found that I love writing mystery along with romance, and love dipping into different time periods. I expect Merryn will be around for quite some time!
Kerry first came to see us in the early days of the blog, to tell us all about her self-published novel then call ‘The Class Ceiling’. Since then, Kerry has secured herself an agent and book deal with Avon Harper Collins – wonderful news! Her debut novel is now titled ‘The School Gate Survival Guide’ and is available now in e-book form, with the paperback out on 11 September 2014. Kerry will be coming back to see us on the blog in October, to tell us all about her follow-up novel and what life is like as a published author.
Amazon link: http://bit.ly/SchoolGate
Kerry’s Author page: http://www.kerryfisherauthor.com
Daniel has published one book and his writing has appeared in Burningword, Wild Quarterly, Paragraph Planet, ExFic, The Vending Machine Press, and The Bolt Magazine. He’s received four writing awards including first place in San Jose State University’s Nonfiction Short Story Contest. He also received a Gold Key for nonfiction, the highest regional honor, from Scholastic’s Art and Writing Awards. Daniel worked as manager of marketing at Ginosko Literary Journal and he’s founder of This Very Breath Journal.