Author Adom Sample

Courting Moon: Vampyre’s Desire
The Bloods Passion Saga
Book One
Adom Sample

Genre: Fantasy / Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Adom Sample

Date of Publication: March 15, 2020

Word Count: 88,500

Cover Artist: OA Book Covers

Tagline: Where There Is Love . . . Death Follows.

Book Description:

Those in power are suppressing the truth, and it all stems from the Coven of Vampyres strict law: Human and Vampyre fraternization—strictly forbidden. When living in a society where love, passion, and desire are restricted it isn't long before someone dissents. I just never thought that someone would be me.

The day I met him, the vampyre Sebastian of Orias, everything changed. Never in my life did I think someone like him, the son of a Count, would pursue a human like me. But he did. He stalked me . . . and now he wants me.

We chose to break the rules, defy the Coven, and embrace this connection, regardless of the dangers that may unfold. However, I fear that our passion may reveal secrets the Coven is willing to kill to protect.

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Excerpt:

The dark meadows and midnight air blast through her hair giving off a scent that would attract any Vampyre for miles. It was there he sensed her. It was there he could no longer deny himself the pleasure of getting to know who she was. The rules were set, and the laws were written, but none of that could keep him restrained. Not anymore.

His emotions fluttered, leaving him no other choice. He must take that chance, regardless of the prospect of rejection. For months, he watched her, lurking in the shadows of their lands, never giving thought as to what would happen if he were to be discovered. It was a risk he was more than willing to take, if only just to get a second glance of her beauty.

He was, after all, the son of a count, and he knew the rules better than anyone. Fraternization between Vampyre and human was strictly forbidden. The rules were imprinted in his brain from birth, but he had to choose differently. Was it her human frailty or the smell of her blood that drew him there every night? Whatever this enchanting spell was that led him to her lands took total control, forcing him to do things he thought he’d never do.

Romantic love was forbidden and after months of obsessing over this human woman, he was beginning to understand why. All rational thought escaped his mind whenever he was near her. The erratic and irrational impulses that made him sneak out of his room, cross the neutral territory, and enter their lands each night had overwhelmed him. He’d lost control, yet refused to do anything about it. This was who he wanted to be.

Henceforth, that night in the dark meadows, basking in the midnight air, he made his approach. Would she welcome him or fear him? What stories would she have heard about his kind that could force her to be reluctant by his presence? He had no choice, for it was too late to turn back now. She was alone, and he would never have an opportunity like this again. He pushed back the bushes, taking slow steps toward her. Hesitant, he thought about turning around and forgetting about her. He knew where this would lead. Still, he interjects his reason and pushes aside all logic, giving in to his wanting desire.

“Hello,” he whispered softly from behind. She froze. She knew the end was near. She knew the Vampyre creeping up behind her would make her his supper if she didn’t run, and quick. Without thought, she took off screaming for her life. Her action to his bold move didn’t surprise him at all; the only thing that entered his mind was how beautiful she looked when she ran away. He didn’t pursue right away. He stood there paralyzed, fearful that he would be discovered.

If anyone heard her screaming it would be the end of him. Before she could get too far, he headed her off, and in a flash was right in front of her. They had collided. She ran right into him. The touch of her soft warm skin sent a sense of inner peace and tranquility through this entire body.

They had their arms wrapped around each other like lovers in need. That sensual gaze he gave her forced the fear to melt away only to be replaced with apprehension and embarrassment.

“I will not harm you,” he said in a passionate whisper.

“What do you want from me?” Her voice trembled.

“Simple conversation.”

“You mean to kill me?”

“Of course not. But far be it for me to make you my meal someday.”

“Who are you?” She gave him an uneasy glance.

He stared into her eyes and smiled, brushing his fingers through her soft, long hair. And thus that single encounter, that bold embrace set forth the path they would go through together; placing things in motions that would tear the very boundaries of everything they’d ever known. Forever.     

About the Author:

Adom Sample is an independent author who enjoys reading and writing romance, erotic, and paranormal stories. Writing is his passion and he lives to give others ideas and inspire stories to push the limits of creativity.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Adomwrites   

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AdomSampleAuthor/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14234506.Adom_Sample

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/adomwriting/

Website: http://www.adomsample.com/

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-Xrg-KIemfGUMlO9NM8Dbg/featured

#52WeeksofGratitude - week 26

Someone You Got to Meet

I got to meet Arnold Schwarzenegger once. I actually got to sat next to him on a couch and eat dinner (my life is weird sometimes).

I was 21, and was working at an art gallery in Las Vegas. He attended an event we held, and I did as well. Our owner had a small buffet set up in his office for the workers to come in and take a dinner break during the event. My time comes to take a break, I walk in and the only empty space to sit was right next to Arnold on the couch. So, he must have seen my hesitation because he patted the seat. LOL!

I didn’t talk to him much, but it was a nice gesture on his part, and I get some bragging rights.

Love and Peace,

Kay

Why do this?

To exercise fingers on the keyboard.

It’s only one post a week.

Positivity is a great energy conductor.

I have lots to be grateful for!

It’ll be fun! (maybe?)

Join me, if you dare.

Author Janice Detrie

A Glint in Her Ice
Gaston the Poodle Mystery
Book Two
Janice Detrie

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Publisher: Janice Detrie

Date of Publication: April 7, 2020

ISBN: 978-0-9987342-1-7978-0-9987342-1-7

ASIN:   0998734217

Number of pages: 231

Word Count:  78,683

Cover Artist:  Eric Labacz

Tagline:  Vlad Chomsky invites his new love Beatrice on a romantic river cruise, but his eccentric landlady, Sandra Tooksbury, and her ill-tempered poodle, Gaston, finagle their way on board and embroil him in a jewel heist.

Book Description:

Professor Vlad Chomsky needs a break after saving the town of Crawford, Wisconsin from terrorists, and he knows exactly how to get the rest and relaxation he needs—a romantic Rhine River cruise with the lovely librarian Beatrice Krup.

Vlad imagines sharing his passion for history with Beatrice as they tour the castles, museums, and cathedrals of Germany, while spending warm spring evenings together watching the river glide by—without his ex-wife and kids, and especially without his elderly landlady Sandra Tooksbury, her friend and handyman Norm, and her feisty toy poodle,  Gaston. Yes, Gaston helped Vlad save Crawford, but he doesn’t need a crowd watching—and offering advice—as he takes his relationship to Beatrice “to the next level.”

But Vlad has forgotten Norm and Sandra’s ability to show up just when they aren’t wanted and is dismayed when Sandra hoodwinks her way on board the cruise, Norm and Gaston in tow.

When Norm becomes the prime suspect in a diamond heist, Vlad’s hopes for a quite, romantic cruise are shattered. Will Gaston and the gang discover the real thief in time? And will finally have a chance to “pop the question” to Beatrice?

This is the second adventure of Vlad, Gaston the Poodle, and all of their friends. You can find out more about them in Jan Detrie’s first book, The Seven Ten Split.

Amazon

Excerpt:

It couldn’t be!” Vlad exclaimed, and he pushed himself into the crowd. But it was.

Below him, Sandra Tooksbury in the aged flesh pointed to the crumpled vest adorning Gaston with bold lettering. The overweight poodle with the dingy white fur wagged his tail but showed no sign of retreating from the gangplank.

“Can’t you read, young man? It says ‘Service Dog’ on his harness. This dog is a highly trained service dog. MY service dog,” she declared. “He accompanies me wherever I go because of my disability.”

The attendant grew flushed but said firmly, “Like I said, madam, no dogs are allowed on board the ship.”

“I was told by the young man who made my reservation that service dogs were allowed on board ship.”

“That dog doesn’t look like any service dog I’ve ever seen,” sneered the older crewmember manning the gangplank. “He looks like a clown dog escaped from the circus.”

“I’ll have you know, young man, I’m prone to having seizures, and this service dog warns me and my traveling companion when I’m about to lose consciousness,” Sandra said indignantly.

“Your traveling companion? Who might that be?” asked the crewmember.

Vlad groaned as Norm pushed his way through the throng bottlenecked at the gangplank and planted himself next to Sandra, resting his fists on his hips.

“I’m her traveling companion. I’m trained in first aid procedures, and I know what to do when her service dog gives the warning,” he declared.

“If that fat mongrel is a service dog, then I’m Angela Merkel,” snorted the older man.

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, sir. I’ve long retired from show business but I still have friends in high places. You don’t want to tangle with talk show stars. They’ll smear your cruise line all over the Internet,” Sandra threatened. “Check me out on YouTube. My dog and I are celebrities.”

Sandra opened her purse and began rummaging through its contents, scattering used tissues, a half-eaten Mars bar, and several restaurant receipts on the ground. “Here it is. The headline story from The New York Times. ‘Dog Brings Down Terrorist.’”

She thrust the Crawford Daily Gazette in the crewmember’s face.

“Madam, this is not The New York Times,” he said. “It’s some small-town paper.”

“Don’t you get smart with me. The New York paper ran the story, too. It was all over the country. My dog is famous.”

“I don’t dispute that, madam, but famous or not, I can’t go against the ship’s policy.” said the man, running a meaty hand through his thinning hair. “I could lose my job.”

“Then I demand to talk to your captain. You can check with Laurant in reservations. He told me my service dog was allowed on board with me.”

Just then Vlad felt a burly man in an immaculate white uniform push past him, captain insignia gleaming.

“What seems to be the problem, Seaman Klaus?” he growled.

“This elderly lady wants to bring her dog on board, and I told her that’s not possible,” his voice rose to a whine.

“He’s a service dog, Captain. I need him to warn Norm here when I’m about to have a seizure. I was informed service dogs are allowed.” Sandra thrust out her chin defiantly.

The captain scratched his head before he spoke.  “I’ll check with headquarters, madam, if you’ll just step aside and let the other guests through.” He looked at the disgruntled passengers behind her and Norm.

Vlad saw Sandra flick her index finger at Gaston. Immediately, he began to bark loudly. Not just loud but frenzied barking, so extreme that his body shook, belly fat undulating like waves on the nearby river. He jumped on Norm, grabbing his pant leg with his teeth and dragging him close to Sandra.

As if on cue, Sandra emitted a loud moan. She jerked her head backwards, and her body went rigid. She toppled like a Northern Pine felled by a lumberjack straight into Norm’s outstretched arms.

“She’s having one of her attacks!” Norm shouted. “Stand back. Give her some air.” He gently lowered her onto the grassy bank alongside the ship and began wildly waving his Green Bay Packers cap in front of her face.

A lady shrieked, “Is there a doctor here?”

Gaston’s barks turned into pitiful howls as he sat on his haunches next to her.

“I’m her guardian! Let me through!” Vlad exclaimed as he pushed through the crowd and rushed down the gangplank. He knelt beside her and reached for her wrist. He could see the blue veins standing out in her frail arm, a tangled network, and felt for her artery with his fingertips. Her pulse felt strong, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“She’s had a mild heart attack before, but her pulse seems all right.” he said to the captain standing nearby.

Sandra let out another little moan, and her eyes fluttered open. “Where am I?” she mumbled. “What happened?” Then she closed them again.

“Ya had another one of yer spells,’’ Norm said. “But yer all right. Gaston let me know just in time to catch you.” The dog’s howls changed to a whine as he stuck his head under her limp hand.

Another moan and then her blue eyes opened wide. “My goodness, Vlad, is that you?” She struggled to sit up.

 “What are you doing here? The last thing I remember is some rude fellow arguing with me about boarding the ship. Then everything went dark. I must have had a seizure.”

Every eye in the gathering crowd now turned to the reddening crewmember and glared at him.

About the Author:

Janice Detrie lives in Watertown, Wisconsin, with her husband Michael and her cat who thinks he’s a dog. A former literacy coordinator, her reading tastes are eclectic, everything from biography to mystery to the classics to nonfiction. She enjoys traveling and theater. She has two children and two grandchildren. A Glint in Her Ice is her second book featuring Vlad and Gaston.

https://janicedetrie.com

https://twitter.com/janicedetrie

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16622949.Janice_Detrie

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#52WeeksofGratitude - week 25

Education

One thing I’ve learned in 46 years is that a piece of paper can do little to prove your intelligence. I’ve known brilliant people that dropped out of high school, and complete buttheads with multiple degrees from prestigious universities.

Education is the sum of all experiences in life. You must be adventurous, open minded and brave.

Never believe that you are fully educated, because you are not. There is always something left to learn.

Love and Peace,

Kay

Why do this?

To exercise fingers on the keyboard.

It’s only one post a week.

Positivity is a great energy conductor.

I have lots to be grateful for!

It’ll be fun! (maybe?)

Join me, if you dare.

Author Avery Kilpatrick

Hurricane Vignette

Avery Kilpatrick

Genre: Poetry, Inspirational, Women Poets

Publisher: Avery Kilpatrick

Date of Publication: June 18, 2020

ASIN: B088KTYWPS

Number of pages: 64 pages

Word Count: 4,354

Cover Artist: Anna Claire Garrard

Book Description:

From debut poet and author Avery Kilpatrick, Hurricane Vignette tells the story of a difficult time in her life—a time of struggle, depression, suicide, recovery, and triumph. This poetry collection is a personal diary of Kilpatrick’s most inner thoughts and her journey of healing.

These poems are filled with raw emotion and contain sensitive subjects such as suicide, depression, and anxiety. However, like most stories, there is a happy ending—a moment of clarity that evokes peace and victory over the chaos of life.

Amazon

An Artist’s Cage

 Sculptors

     and painters—bringers

       of life and molds.

    Fingers feather over

   their lines and angles,

providing guiding hands

for Da Vinci or Shakespeare,

Aetion or Nikosthenes—

the Muses helped bring their

inspirations to life. A cage of color

and stone inescapable—unbreakable—

placed in a gallery for all to see.

A pillar that others should strive to achieve the

        perfection of the woman:

traditional chocolate hair with

        a lean, willowed figure,

cherry lips, painted face, shining eyes, and smiles.

The pinnacle of a natural standard of beauty—

        pretty, nice, braindead, submissive,

who relies on the Father,

       their Creator—or the Husband.

All independence erased by

       white paint or another block of clay. 

And the Muses, beautiful

       women who guided men,

 developed the cage, building a masterful

piece of iron, entrapping their fellow sisters.

About the Author:

Avery Kilpatrick was born in Flowood, Mississippi, in April 1996. Raised in a small town in the Mississippi Delta, she has a fondness for nature and the cotton fields that create Southern snow pastures in the fall. After writing her first novel when she was thirteen, Avery decided to pursue her dream as an author at a young age.

An alumnus of Delta State University in Cleveland, Mississippi, Avery graduated with a Bachelor’s in English. She also worked on the student-run newspaper, The Delta Statement, during her four-year career at Delta State as copy-editor and Editor-in-Chief.

Avery currently lives in a ranch-style home in her hometown in Greenwood, Mississippi. The mother of three fur babies, Cinnamon the spoiled cat, Ginger the rambunctious old lady, and Remington a.k.a. Remi the service dog, Avery has enough fur from shedding animals to make a fourth pet. When Avery isn’t busy writing her next novel, she goes on walks with her mother and dogs, watches Outlander or Criminal Minds on Netflix, or can be found curled up on the couch with Cinnamon reading a good book.

Newsletter Sign-up: https://averykilpatrick.com/newsletter-signup

Website: https://averykilpatrick.com/

Blog: https://averykilpatrick.com/blog

Twitter: https://twitter.com/avekilpatrick

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/averykilpatrickauthor/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/averykilpatrickauthor

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/ap/x2QoXZ/Avery-Kilpatrick

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#52WeeksofGratitude - week 24

A Book You Learned From

“Cry of the Kalahari” by Mark and Delia Owens is by far my favorite book ever. I did a book report on it in grade school, and it made a profound impression on me. As newlyweds, the Owens’s left America with little to nothing, to pursue their dream of studying African wildlife on the Kalahari. How incredibly brave of them! Their leap of faith turned into a lifelong quest for animal and human rights, and many, many interesting side trips along that route. I admire them.

Please check out their amazing, and TRUE, tales of adventure.

Love and Peace,

Kay

Why do this?

To exercise fingers on the keyboard.

It’s only one post a week.

Positivity is a great energy conductor.

I have lots to be grateful for!

It’ll be fun! (maybe?)

Join me, if you dare.

Author Wren Valentino

Join the Facebook Party June 12 at 1PM EST

Fast Beat
Wren Valentino

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Blue Dasher Press

Date of Publication: May 29, 2020

ASIN:

Word Count: 15,000

Cover Artist: James at GoOnWrite.com

Book Description:

After her long-time dance partner Tony is injured, Cassidy Downs has only a matter of weeks to find a new partner to remain eligible to compete in the All City Dance Off.

When she discovers Giovanni, a talented and classically trained member of a dance conservatory, Cassidy convinces him to become her new partner despite his reluctance to do so.

As the competition nears, neither Cassidy nor Giovanni can deny the strong attraction building between them.

Amazon

Excerpt:

The text message came in right at the end of the lunch rush. Cassidy felt her phone buzz in the front pocket of her apron. She reached for it on instinct. She glanced down, saw the words, and stopped in her tracks.

Come quickly. Tony is hurt.

Ducking out of view of the slow-eating customers, Cassidy sought refuge in the cluttered breakroom, which consisted of nothing more than a rickety table, two beaten-up chairs, and a dead clock on the wall that hadn’t told time in over a year.

Too nervous to sit, Cassidy paced while waiting for Tasha to answer her phone. Tension filled her muscles as she moved.

Finally.

“Hello?”

Cassidy froze. “Tasha? What happened? Is he okay?”

“No,” she said. “No, he’s not. It’s bad.” Knowing Tasha for most of her life, Cassidy knew it was a serious situation from the wavering tone in Tasha’s voice.

Cassidy tightened her grip on the phone. “Tell me,” she said. Her breath felt like it was caught in her lungs. She closed her eyes, imagining the worst but hoping for the best.

“You’re not going to believe this, but he got jumped.”

Cassidy opened her eyes. “What? By who?”

“Who do you think? It was The Firemakers.”

“Are you sure?”

“Cassidy, he had over two hundred bucks in cash on him. They didn’t touch the money. They went for his knee. They wanted to make sure he’d never dance again. And he won’t. Tony didn’t deserve this. We both know he’s a good guy.”

“He’s my best friend,” Cassidy said. A wave of emotion crept into her throat. Her eyes filled with tears. Not one to show her feelings, she stopped herself from crying. “And the best dance partner I’ve ever had. What am I gonna do? The competition is in two weeks.”

“He’s asking for you,” Tasha said. “We’re at County. How fast can you get here?”

Cassidy let out a long breath. Her body was still tense, but shock was setting in. How could this happen? “I’ll ask April to cover the rest of my shift,” she explained. “She still owes me from Christmas Eve.”

“Time to collect,” said Tasha. “And probably time to find a new partner.”

Cassidy shook her head. “I can’t.” she said. “That’s impossible.”

Tasha took a breath before she spoke. “Is it?”

About the Author:

Wren Valentino is an author, playwright, poet, and screenwriter. He writes in multiple genres, primarily contemporary romance with an international setting. Wren graduated magna cum laude from Oglethorpe University in Atlanta with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Communications and English. He earned an MFA in Creative Writing at Queens University of Charlotte in North Carolina. He is a member of Gothic Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America. He loves film noir, white chocolate, classic cartoons, koalas, Julie London records, Nancy Drew, the Peanuts gang, Disney villains, all things Tiki, Italy, and everything written by Jane Austen.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WrenValentino12

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/wrenvalentino

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/wrenvalentino/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/wrenvalentino/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WrenValentino

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#52WeeksofGratitude - week 23

Favorite Physical Trait

Eyes are the windows to the soul, right? I suppose it’s not very surprising to say that eyes are my favorite physical trait of someone, because they usually top most people’s list of favorite traits.

Love and Peace,

Kay

Why do this?

To exercise fingers on the keyboard.

It’s only one post a week.

Positivity is a great energy conductor.

I have lots to be grateful for!

It’ll be fun! (maybe?)

Join me, if you dare.

Author Rick Van Etten

The Killer in the Woods
A Robert Vance Novel
Book One
Rick Van Etten

Genre:  Crime Fiction/Mystery

Publisher:  Proud Point Press

Date of Publication:  June 1, 2020

ISBN:  978-1-7348269-0-6

ASIN: B087Y9ND2M

Number of pages:  254

Word Count:  78,000

Cover Artist:  Eric Labacz

Book Description: 

ROBERT VANCE IS A MAN WITH A SECRET…

Robert Vance is a magazine editor who works from home and lives in a house full of books. His neighbors think of him as a quiet, unassuming man. His passion for pheasant hunting with Preacher, his German wirehaired pointer, is typical of sportsmen living in the Midwest. But what isn’t so typical—and what his neighbors don’t know—is that occasionally Robert hunts something besides pheasants.

Robert hates bullies and injustice. When someone has a problem with either, he or she can hire Robert to make the situation right.

But Robert isn’t—in his own mind—just a contract killer. He lives by a set of rules that dictate who, where, and why he can kill. So when a well-meaning citizen discovers Robert’s latest target and winds up being charged with the killing, Robert must take steps to ensure the man’s freedom.

STEPS THAT WILL MOST LIKELY INVOLVE KILLING AGAIN…

Amazon

Excerpt Chapter 1

The money is good, but that’s not why I do it.

Kill people, I mean. That’s what I do, and I’m very good at it. And yes, the compensation is usually more than adequate.

But don’t start jumping to conclusions. I’m not a spook. I’m not some ex-Agency, ultra-ultra-deep-cover, government-trained assassin who got my start in the military and, having discovered a unique talent, couldn’t let it go. Nor was I ever encouraged by my “Uncle” to put my special skills to use for the common good, in which capacity I might still have the occasional brush-up with colleagues who might or might not be among the so-called good guys and might or might not be people I should trust.

No. I don’t play at espionage. I don’t call secret phone numbers and get my orders from people who use lots of acronyms and won’t allow their names to be spoken aloud on an open line, and I don’t have hidden files tucked away somewhere that I can use as leverage if I find myself running afoul of a power player. I never served in the military, and the extent of my contact with the government consists of filing my income taxes every year, renewing the registration on my SUV and voting in the occasional election. The few times I’ve been called for jury duty I’ve managed to get myself excused.

Sounds pretty dull, doesn’t it? You’re right; it is. And that’s by design.

If you saw me on the street or in a restaurant or a shopping mall or an airport—and there’s a reasonable chance you have seen me in some of those places—you’d most likely give me no more than a passing glance. There’s quite a bit about me that’s just plain average—size, looks, clothing. I wear glasses, and my hair is getting thin on top.

I dress comfortably and rather conservatively. I recently became eligible for Social Security—I’m old enough to have served in Vietnam, but I was in college at the time and my number in the draft lottery was high enough to keep me there.

I don’t go out of my way to attract attention, but neither do I live an introverted, reclusive life. I’m not married, but I date casually, and I occasionally get invited to parties and cookouts and can hold my own in a conversation on a variety of subjects. People usually laugh at my jokes, and I keep myself reasonably well informed about most current events. I read extensively, and my house is full of books.

I also have a Browning gun vault full of shotguns, but those are primarily related to my regular job—I’m the editor of an outdoor sporting magazine, a “hook and bullet rag,” as such publications are irreverently referred to within the publishing industry. I’m a bird hunter by avocation, and a six-year-old German wirehaired pointer named Preacher—for Clint Eastwood’s grizzled character in the movie Pale Rider—shares my home.

Sometimes I use one of my shotguns for something besides upland game or waterfowl. That’s a safe enough practice, as I’ll explain later. When a shotgun is too large for the job at hand—when it’s necessary to get up close and personal to the target, in other words—I’ll occasionally use a handgun. But I never keep these after the job is finished. That’s Rule Number 3.

I travel a good bit for my job—I get quite a few invitations from advertisers throughout the hunting season, and by taking advantage of these invitations I’ve hunted in many locations and at many top-drawer facilities around the world. Sometimes—not frequently, but once in a while—my two jobs overlap. The advertiser picks up the tab for my hunt (in exchange for some editorial ink), and by staying an extra day or two—usually on the pretext of visiting an old childhood friend or a seldom-seen relative and always at my own expense—I manage to take care of the other assignment while I’m at it. It doesn’t happen that way very often, but it’s convenient when it does.

OK, so if I really don’t do it for the money, why do I do it?

Simple.

There are two things I can’t abide in this world—a bully, and injustice.

The two often go hand in hand, and when I encounter either, I bristle. When someone else has a problem with either, he or she will sometimes seek me out to make the situation right.

Over the years, I’ve become very good at this. And that’s my real motivation—the feeling of satisfaction that comes from having done a job well, righted a wrong, balanced the scales or eliminated an oppressive threat.

It’s my way of leaving the world a little better place than I found it.

About the Author:

Rick Van Etten is a former college English instructor, corporate communications professional and retired magazine editor whose numerous articles and features have appeared in Gun Dog, Wing and Shot, Sports Afield, Ducks Unlimited, Game and Fish, Petersen’s Hunting, Farm and Ranch Living and Reader’s Digest. An Illinois native and lifelong upland bird hunter, Rick now lives in Iowa with a middle-aged Irish setter and an elderly tortoiseshell cat. The Killer in the Woods is his first novel.

Website: https://proudpointpress.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Rick-Van-Etten/e/B087Z4VHVV/