Book 2 of the A Conspiracy of Betrayal series introduces another savvy young attorney whose life is upended simply for doing her job.
When Drew Bradley, a partner in the law firm she works for, is murdered on a New York street, senior associate, Asia Blythe, is assigned some of his high-profile cases, but given few details and little access to case files. She’s also offered her dream, the opportunity to buy-in as a partner, but as she delves deeper into Drew’s cases, Asia is torn between accepting the offer and completing the mysterious cases that hint at illegal activities and international crime.
Assisted by the firm’s private investigator—and love interest—Sam Flynn, Asia seeks only to protect the firm… and her career. But when Sam reaches out to a friend for help with the international aspects of the case, we meet global security expert, Jaxon Brandt, again from book 1. He gets involved because the shadowy Grigory Petrov is one of Asia’s new clients.
Asia doesn’t see a way out of the dangerous web they have pulled her into, but when an attempt is made on her life, she’s shaken but determined to see the case through no matter where it leads.
Good writing, an intricate plot, and strong characters made this a one-sitting read. Asia is tenacious and confident, and she and Sam have good chemistry, but my special nod goes to Sylvia, Asia’s administrative assistant, who comes off as a gossip but in fact, finds out the info she needs to watch Asia’s back.
With cases involving cryptocurrency, biological weapons, and DNA manipulation, Spider Hunting is a fast-paced, smart, legal thriller. Reading book one first isn’t necessary to enjoy book two, but I recommend it to understand the full global reach of the bad actors involved.
Enjoy!
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It’s never what it seems.
A murder of a high-profile law partner on a Manhattan street should have made the front page of the news. And yet it didn’t. Drew Bradley’s murder was treated as just another senseless crime and relegated to page four of the evening edition. But what if the press had been privy to the fact that the murder was actually an assassination?
As the partners at Lannister and Stewart scramble to fill the vacuum left by Drew Bradley’s sudden death, Asia Blythe, a rising star in the firm is offered his coveted position. But this golden opportunity that brings with it power, prestige, and unlimited financial rewards demands adherence to a code. A code of allegiance to the firm with no exceptions. Catapulted into the world of genetically modified designer babies and state-sponsored espionage, is Asia prepared to deal with the intrigues of a world that will threaten her life and shatter her illusions?
Kathleen McGillick is an author of fast paced mystery, suspense and thriller novels. Her fascination with the genre reaches back to her childhood when she read every Nancy Drew book she could find. This, one could say, laid the foundation for her future love of all things mystery and who dun it’s.
Although she has lived in Georgia for over thirty-five years and is practicing attorney in the Metro Atlanta, she will always call New York her home.
When writing her novels she draws from her extensive experience in the medical and legal field to weave her twisted plot lines. Kathleen counts herself an ardent student of art history which allows her to add a dash of art to her novels adding to the mystery of the story.
As a young person her dream was to become an English literature teacher. Although life took her on a different path, one might say she found her way back to her early love of books by spending her time now writing them.
I didn’t choose the role of single dad…it chose me. I’ve been picking up the broken pieces my wife left when she walked out on my daughter and me. The last thing I’m looking for is a relationship.
But when Sutton Wright starts spending more time in my hometown, my daughter isn’t the only one curious about the beautiful country music star. She adds sunshine into my grey life, and being with her reminds me of the man I once was.
Our lives are destined to take different paths, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my daughter from the spotlight, even if it means giving up my second chance.
Fabiola Francisco loves the simplicity—and kick—of scotch on the rocks. She follows Hemingway’s philosophy—write drunk, edit sober. She writes women’s fiction and contemporary romance, dipping her pen into new adult and young adult. Her moods guide her writing, taking her anywhere from sassy and sexy romances to dark and emotion-filled love stories.
Writing has always been a part of her life, penning her own life struggles as a form of therapy through poetry. She still stays true to her first love, poems, while weaving longer stories with strong heroines and honest heroes. She aims to get readers thinking about life and love while experiencing her characters’ journeys.
She is continuously creating stories as she daydreams. Her other loves are country music, exploring the outdoors, and reading.
“Fate hunts us down in our sleep.” Clay Conover, retired Marine officer turned corporate trainer has successfully re-careered and has a long-term plan. A plan grounded in a sense of duty, loyalty, and tempered by clear-eyed realism. Unfortunately, Clay’s plan doesn’t account for the hiring of Sheera Prasad. Young, hungry and ambitious, Sheera has an agenda of her own.
In the collision of wills that follows, Clay is confronted with a choice that will define him, not simply professionally but personally. Will he take the ethical high road, or opt for self-serving rathionalization? West of Tomorrow is an intelligent romance, laced with corporate intrigue, betrayal and the undiscovered phoenix living in all of us.
Excerept 1—In which Clay Conover’s past rmeinds him of who he is.
Chapter 1—Saturdays Never Lie
Saturday, October 17, 2009
The rain drumming on his helmet began subtly, rising in a crescendo Lt. Clay Conover had come to recognize only too well—overwhelming sound, drowning thought. Monsoon in Cambodia.
Late afternoon sucked the light out of the triple canopy, muting everything to shadow. Shadow that slithered into his thoughts, tugging subtly on his mood. A look back confirmed third squad following in trace, greasy orange mud sucking at their boots. Clay checked the progress of second squad up ahead—soundless apparitions navigating the downpour. It would be dark in an hour.
To his left, first squad’s nearest fire team struggled through tangles of liana vines, prompting Clay to move forward to adjust second squad’s rate of advance. Even before he got close, Corporal Knickerson glanced back. Clay signaled him to slow the advance, pointing to first squad, bogged down in heavier undergrowth.
Knickerson nodded, scrambling forward to match his squad’s pace to that of first’s. Should’ve made first squad base, Clay thought.
The rain subsided to a drizzle, making Clay’s breathing seem unnaturally loud. His pack straps dug into his soggy, rain-soaked armpits, raw now from days of chafing friction. His neck was stiff from the weight of his brain bucket and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been dry or when he’d been so tired. Static from the radio startled him back to alertness.
“Six this is deuce, over,” Thompson listened a moment. “Wait one.” Thompson’s gangly form covered the twenty feet between them in under five seconds. “It’s the Skipper,” he said, passing Clay the handset.
“Six Actual, this is Two Actual.”
“Two Actual, hold at the ORP. SitRep on arrival,” Capt. Mortensen commanded.
“Two Actual roger.” Waving Thompson to follow, Clay caught up with Corporal Knickerson to update his orders. In the forty minutes it took to reach the Objective Rally Point, the rain started and stopped twice. Clay halted second squad at the ORP, squinting through the waning light to confirm first squad had also stopped. Partially hidden by ground foliage and the gathering gloom, Clay could just make out the nearest fire team.
Third squad, ghostly in the jungle twilight, was closing up. Ramirez, the squad leader appeared in a sparser patch of undergrowth and Clay held up his fist, pointed at his eyes then back in the direction they’d come.
Ramirez nodded. Clay could count on him to tie his squad in with the other two. They could refine their positioning later, if necessary.
Clay took the handset from Thompson. “Seductive Snake Six, this is Two Actual. At the RP…all secure.” He headed for the left flank, waving his radio operator to follow.
Less that thirty-five meters over, they caught sight of Lance Corporal Brown, Clay’s youngest squad leader. Hunkered behind a decayed log next to his radio operator, Brown held the handset to his ear, beneath the rim of his helmet. Thompson’s radio crackled with static.
Brown heard it and rolled over. Eyes wide, he came to a low crouch on his knees, frantically waving them down. On his way to the mud, Clay heard the first round catch Thompson with a sickening smack, followed by the angry crack of its passage. More distant, the hollow thump of mortar rounds leaving their tubes came to his ears. The left flank erupted in pin points of light and the rattle of small arms fire.
Clay sprinted for his radio operator, dove prone and dragged him over on his back. Dead. He pried the handset loose and keyed it. Also dead. The first mortar rounds impacted close by and his gut jumped to the concussion, as his ears rang and went cottony.
From the flank, muzzle flashes winked in eerie, malicious quiet through the gathering darkness. The shadowy forms of the Peoples’ Army rose from spider holes, firing AK-47s that seemed not to miss.
Another mortar round impacted near Brown, blowing off his helmet to reveal a blood-soaked death mask. Brown stared at him reproachfully, with missing eyes Clay could nevertheless feel.
The throaty chuckle of a diesel starting up rose above the din. Tanks? When the hell did the PA get tanks? The engine noise swelled to the accompaniment of strengthening wind and the incongruous beep of a back-up alarm.
Clay came awake to the drone of the fan he used for white noise and the continued beep of a back-up alarm somewhere outside. Tow truck. He lay there, his chest jumping to each beat of his heart. As it slowed, the nightmare he’d always feared but had never quite materialized retreated.
But now as then, he remembered the endless wait that night for Kinseth’s medevac bird—his assurances as the morphine kicked in that the bird was on the way, knowing it would arrive too late.
He thought of the long, flight home from his first overseas tour, laced with a confusion of hope, disillusionment and dread.
After a cup of coffee, Clay stretched and prepared for his pre-dawn run. Seated on his front porch, he garroted his ghosts in the laces of his running shoes.
About the Author
Dirk came within a cat’s whisker of never publishing. Through two
frenetic professional careers first as a Marine officer and then as a
corporate trainer, he started way more stories than he finished, until full
retirement left him with the focused attention he needed. West of Tomorrow,
his first novel draws on his experience with the military, corporate America
and the unpredictable nature of life.
Since then, he has published Best-Case Scenario, Act I of Nyra’s
Journey a New Adult romance, Through the Windshield, Drive-by Lives an
anthology of short stories and Tier Zero, Vol. I of The Knolan Cycle. He
currently lives in Laguna Niguel where he surfs, snow skis in the
winter and facilitates an author’s critique group.
FBI Agent Joseph Trammell retires to a beachfront home on a Georgia island.
Six months later, PI Red Farlow finds him dying in a pool of blood. Someone shot him four times. Five shell casings litter the floor. Drops of blood lead out of the house and onto East Beach on St. Simons Island. Red sets out to find out who killed Joe Trammell and why.
Did the local drug and arms smuggler hire a hit? And who caught the fifth bullet?
Farlow wades into the murky water of intrigue, conflicting love affairs, and danger as he tracks down the killer. It’s not exactly a relaxing day at the beach.
About the Author
W.F. Ranew is a former newspaper reporter, editor, and communication executive. He started his journalism career covering sports, police, and city council meetings at his hometown newspaper, The Quitman Free Press. He also worked as a reporter and editor for several regional dailies: The Augusta (Ga.) Chronicle, The Florida Times-Union, and The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
Ranew has written two previous novels: Schoolhouse Man and Candyman’s Sorrow. He lives with his wife in Atlanta and St. Simons Island, Ga.
Haunted by his discovery of a beloved neighbor’s body floating lifeless in the lake where he’s fishing, 16-year-old Benjamin Baum is convinced she was murdered despite her death being deemed an accident. While those around him tire of his fixation on finding a supposed killer, Ben’s alienation leads to drinking and the reader begins to wonder if he’s a reliable narrator. The plot takes a shocking twist, revealing the terrifying reality that things are not what they seem—that, beneath a façade of prosperity and contentment, darkness lurks.
About the Author
Adam Pelzman was born in Seattle, raised in northern New Jersey, and has spent most of his life in New York City. He studied Russian literature at the University of Pennsylvania and went to law school at UCLA. His first novel, Troika, was published by Penguin (Amy Einhorn Books). He is also the author of The Papaya King, which Kirkus Reviews described as “entrancing,” “deeply memorable” and “devilishly smart social commentary.” The Boy and the Lake, set in New Jersey during the late 1960s, is his third novel.
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