Foot Soldiers

By Paddy Bostock

Action/Humour, 452 pages

Cover art by Richard Stroud

Blurb: Outraged at the market economic policies adopted by their university, the Podiatry department kidnap a senior academic in protest. The chance coincidence of the interests of the gutter press, Welsh Freedom Fighters, and a Prime Minister struggling for re-election ensures a minor campus story escalates into cataclysmic national proportions.

Excerpt: Professor Marvyn "Clyde" Zinkin was furious, an increasingly frequent phenomenon since his move to the UK, and one that was starting to cause him concern. Stateside, his blood-pressure had been consistently described by doctors as that of a "resting athlete," but now he reckoned it closely resembled that of a kangaroo ice-dancing.

"Whaddya mean the Podricyclists ain't buying it?" he spat at Dr. Malcolm Moon, the bearer of bad tidings, who was teetering at the edge of the Presidential-style cherrywood desk, his bony, blanched knuckles pressed into the gleaming surface for support, wondering how long he would be able to hold onto his breakfast.

"The hell they ain't. The other damn Ps bought it and so will they," Clyde bellowed, jerking his tanned quarterback frame forwards from its high-backed, black-leather swivel so the Charlton Heston torso beneath his white button-down shirt covered the major part of the desktop, and the ice-blue eyes above the remoulded nose and the cosmetic Rock Hudson cleft chin were only withering inches away from Dr. Moon's watery yellow irises.

"An' you better believe it, Mal. Toe-pickers?" he said, springing from his chair, grabbing a remote from the back pocket of his specially imported Lee jeans-the ones that built America-and marching across to his full-wall, Power Point display on which, alphabetically arranged, were all the subjects he had already axed from the university's once wide-ranging offer.

"Philosophics bought it," he told the cringing don, who had begun to gulp much in the manner of a haddock out of water. "Psychiatrosis bought it. Psychologomy bought it. Pekingese bought it..."

Cantonese, Professor Zinkin," Malcolm corrected, pedantry surfacing even in his current anguish.

"Political Studies bought it. Practically all the goddammed Ps bought it. An' now you're here to tell me Podricyclists ain't buying it?" Clyde fumed, oblivious to the intervention and zapping at the remote to indicate the spaces where once seminal subjects featured as death masks and PODIATRY was lit up in red with a skull and crossbones flashing over it in black.

"They are very reluctant, Professor, given the potential financial benefits they claim to be inherent in the treatment of feet, and also the principle of the matter," Moon said before his knees gave way and he collapsed onto the single wooden stool Zinkin allowed for petitioners on the opposite side of the Presidential cherrywood number.

"The As bought it…Angly Saxonics, Anthropologism, Archaeologics…all those guys went for the deal big ways. The Bs...the Cs...the Ds, all the way through to the goddam Ps," Clyde said, whipping the remote along the defunct subject line of his projection-analysis screen. "So why not the goddam Podricyclicists?" he barked, returning to his swivel, appraising his computer briefly before hitting the auto-piss-off button on a series of e-mails, and then staring down at Malcolm Moon.

"Did I say you could sit, Mal?"

"I felt I needed to, sir."

"'Nother weak-kneed Brit, huh? You guys gonna be the death of me.

Forbidden Legacy

By A. W. Lambert

Action/Adventure 388 pages

Cover art by Pat Evans

Background photo by A. W. Lambert

ISBN 978-1-61309-095-4   $7.50

ISBN 978-1-61309-908-7   $12.95

Blurb:

When a remote farmhouse burglary results in the death of one of the two elderly sisters living there the police are led to believe only a few trinkets were stolen. But then the surviving sister seeks out Theo Stern and admits that during the raid a priceless painting was also taken. But why were the police kept in the dark? She confides all to Stern, swearing him to secrecy and begging for his help to retrieve the painting.

Stern’s encounters danger at every turn when his investigations lead him from a wealthy, influential French banker with links to the French underworld to a vicious London abduction and a twenty-year reign of unsolved crimes in the UK?

Excerpt:

Woodford, a large suburban town in northeast London, occupies the northwestern part of the London Borough of Redbridge. It is located approximately 9.5 miles northeast of Charing Cross, supports its own railway station with links into the centre of London via the Central Line and sits conveniently a little more than two miles from the feed onto the M11motorway.

The motel is situated just a short walk from the railway station. The room is small, measuring little more than a dozen feet square. It houses a bed, alongside which sits a bedside cabinet carrying a shaded lamp, a narrow chest of drawers and a single chair pinched into one corner. Even though an extractor fan hums continually, the sickly aroma of elicit cigarette smoke and stale alcohol combined with hastily sprayed air freshener, hangs in an uncomfortably humid atmosphere.

Today the room has been booked for just a couple of hours and the signature on the motel register is not the real name of the guest, but that is of no consequence to a bored desk clerk, who is more than happy to pocket the full daily rate in cash for just a couple of hours nobody else will ever know about.

Ronnie Price, the real name of the guest, is a jovial, forty-five year old Liverpudlian. He stands no more than five ten in his stocking feet and weighs a little under ten stone; this probably because, to him, food is not of great priority and also because he smokes like a trooper. Price works as a driver on the London underground system and has never missed a day’s work since he was first employed there. He is well-liked by his work mates and is considered by his employers as a conscientious, first class employee and a model citizen. And indeed that’s what he is. In the daytime. At night, however, Price assumes a very different persona. He is, and has been for almost twenty years, what is colloquially known as a cat burglar, one who specialises in entering houses at the dead of night, with a particular forte for high windows and skylights.

And Price is every bit as successful at his night-time activities as he is at the day job. He works totally alone and limits himself to just two or maybe three jobs each year, travelling extensively in his spare time, crisscrossing the country in order to survey potentially lucrative targets, preferring mainly rural counties where police numbers are limited. He is scrupulously selective and plans each job meticulously. As a result, no police database holds his name and, despite extensively contributing to almost every county’s unsolved crime list over the years, his face is completely unknown to any law enforcement agency.

Long ago the press had latched onto the story, headlining it as the UK police force’s most embarrassing case since Jack the Ripper. They’d named him “The Shadow” with front page captions such as The Police Again Left Chasing The Shadow and Once Again The Shadow Evaporates After Daring Robbery. Price revelled in the dichotomy; as The Shadow, he was known to almost everyone in the country and yet his identity was completely unknown to anyone.

Energy by Doc Carson

Action Thriller

Cover art by Pat Evans

Ebook or print; 400 pages

What would happen if energy suddenly became free, clean and inexhaustible? The answers may be surprising. It speaks to our wistful sense of escapism from the crushing effects of environmental catastrophe and the inevitability of the economic status quo with a revolutionary ‘magic pill’, but is it really worth it?

Excerpt:

A shadow darted over them, across the road, and shot out onto the lake: a helicopter, a very low helicopter. It came into view for a second through the low, narrow windshield. Their field of vision was too restricted to see the chopper when above them, but they could hear its shrill turbojet engines whistle and the distinctive clapping from the rotor blades. It flew ahead on a straightaway, then spun a hundred and eighty degrees facing them, the menacing rotor disc angled their way as they raced forward. It hovered only a few feet off the ground. Car and copter moved directly at each other with closing speeds in excess of a hundred mph. Richard pumped the brakes, swerved left, right and left again.

They dodged the helicopter, but clearly saw a man aiming a rifle leaning out the left door. Star-patterned sparks erupted from the muzzle. Bullets tore the road’s shoulder, rapidly spewing gravel in a straight line. It was an automatic weapon, Richard realized, and he reopened the throttle and dumped the high octane gasoline into the fuel system. Again, Enzo Ferrari’s creation answered without hesitation, bolting them under the helicopter. Ninety seconds later at that speed, they had reached the outskirts of Mandello del Lario, a modest sized town, but with enough activity and population that their pursuing goblins disappeared.

“My God, they tried to kill us!” Dorothy panted.

Richard, ice cool, turned slightly to her, “It appears so.”

Book 13 in the Heart & Soul sci-fi/futuristic romance series has been released today - Soul of a Predator. It's available in trade paperback and ebook from www.wings-press.com

This story was one that while it wasn't always easy to write (I and my characters fought a lot during this), was one that just had to be told . Shaque and Elyse have been dying to get at each others throats - and I don't mean with warm, sweet kisses! Try daggers...

But there are secrets as always, and when two enemies are forced to work together...well, here's the PR synopsis:

When predator meets predator, they wipe each other out.
The bounty hunter and ex-space pirate/part mutant have unfinished business…a fight to the death. It started over a year ago, it never finished, and it can only end one way.

But first Shaque and Elyse have to work together, going deep into the Outlaw Sector, each with their own agenda, both with one goal - life.
But the consequences will be devastating…
Some secrets should never be revealed…
But in the end, there is no choice…

~*~

Soul of a Predator recently was awarded the CK2S Kwips and Kritiques Recommended Read.

I've had some awesome reviews on it, and here are some:

“This reviewer’s suggestion is, buy SOUL OF A PREDATOR the first day it comes out, take the day off from work and enjoy Ms. Verdenius’ excellent explanation of what happens when two predators meet!”
Brenda Edde, Romance Junkies

“Filled with action-packed scenes, Soul of a Predator is an erotic adventure that will keep you turning the pages and wanting more when the story ends.”
Peggy P. Parsons, ONE STOLEN NIGHT, May 2008

“…a cosmic web of love and suspense to give us another brilliant chapter in this heart pounding series…Get a copy of Soul of a Predator and find the predator within.”
Lydia Funneman, Writers Unlimited

"...sensual heat...heart wrenching...the action is through the roof.... What a book!...a powerful story with so much adventure and passion that one galaxy can’t hold all of it. Readers are guaranteed to find their emotions surging from the opening scene..."
Kelley A. Hartsell, CK2S Kwips and Kritiques

I do love writing about different faceted characters, and making them true to themselves. Shaque and Elyse have always held a fascination for me, because of who and what they are - and they don't change .

There's an excerpt on the Wings ePress website if you're interested, and I'm also going to be one of the Dec Authors at Wings Readers on the 7th and 8th Dec, so if you want to know more about me and my books, pop into Wings Readers and have an email chat with me (I'll be in and out on and off both days, so if I don't answer straight away - I will! I live in Australia and my time zones are different to the US and other parts of the world.)

You can also visit my website http://www.angelaverdenius.com/ for more information on other books and projects

cheers!

Angela