#BookBlitz “The Ultra Betrayal (A Conor Thorn Novel, Book Two)” by Glenn Dyer

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A Conor Thorn Novel, Book Two

Thriller, Historical Thriller, Military Thriller

Released: June 9, 2020

Publisher: TMR Press

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 One man’s dark deal with the Nazis could bring the Allies to their knees..

Autumn, 1942. Rule breaker OSS Agent Conor Thorn is assigned a mission to
help the Allied war effort when a key Swedish cryptographer stationed in
England goes missing. Thorn is determined to find him before critical
information falls into enemy hands, but when his MI6 colleague vanishes
trailing the code-breaker to Stockholm, Thorn is plunged yet again into a
sinister Nazi conspiracy.

Can Thorn stop prized secrets from triggering more wartime carnage?

 The Ultra Betrayal is the second novel in the thrilling Conor Thorn spy
series. If you like harrowing historical drama, riveting espionage, and
fast-paced action, then you’ll love Glenn Dyer’s well-researched WW II
adventure.

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 Other Books in the Conor Thorn Thriller Series

The Torch Betrayal

A Conor Thorn Novel, Book One

Publisher: TMR Press

Released: January 2018

A disgraced agent. A missing battle plan. Will he find redemption or damage
the Allies beyond repair?

London, 1942. OSS Agent Conor Thorn is desperate for a second chance. After
a botched mission in Tangier, Thorn knows failure is not an option. When
confidential directives for Operation Torch, the invasion of North Africa,
go missing, the agent must recover the plans before the Nazis thwart the
crucial mission.

Thorn teams up with MI6 agent Emily Bright to seek out the traitor in their
midst. Untangling the web of suspects leads them to Nazi sympathizers,
double-crossing Soviet spies, and Vatican clergymen with motives of their
own. As their mission grows more and more dangerous, Thorn and Bright have
one chance to retrieve the document before it falls into enemy hands,
leaving countless Allied troops in danger.

 The Torch Betrayal is a high-stakes WWII thriller inspired by true
events.

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Excerpt

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

1915 Hours, Friday, October 30, 1942

Lysekil Harbor, Lysekil, Sweden

Conor and Emily shared a wooden crate in the back of the truck. Eve and
Gunnar did the same. They had been on the road for ten minutes when the
truck made a right turn and pulled to a stop. Conor pushed the rear canvas
flap aside and saw that they had arrived at a gas station. Bobby came to the
back of the truck.

“The driver said that he has to fill up for his deliveries tomorrow
morning. That’s his routine. It won’t take long.”

“Long enough for a phone call?”

“I guess.”

Conor hopped down and headed inside the station’s office. There
wasn’t anyone inside, so he laid a few krona on the desk, dialed the
Grand Hotel, and asked for Gus Karlson.

“Are you there yet?” Karlson asked.

“Close. Maybe another fifteen, twenty minutes. Any fallout from our
fishing trip?”

“Quite a lot. Tolberg visited us. The C Bureau is pretty grumpy. The
body count at the Andersson house was out of hand, as far as they’re
concerned. They say that quite a few people from all three legations are
going to be sent home. I might be one of them.”

“Wait, you said three legations?”

“There were three dead Russians at the house, along with one
German.”

“How did the Russians get involved?”

“They have eyes and ears everywhere, Conor.”

A man in a grease-smeared coverall walked into the office through a rear
door. He held his hands up as if to say, What the hell?

Conor pointed at the coins on the desk.

The man shrugged and sat down.

“Could they have been a competing buyer for Lind’s
intelligence?” Conor believed that, once the war was over, the shotgun
marriage that was the relationship between the Americans, Brits, and Soviets
wouldn’t last long.

“Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Any sign of Eklof or Stuben?”

“Actually, they have been noticeably absent of late.”

“That’s not necessarily good news.” Conor saw Bobby
waving at him from the cab of the truck. “Gotta get going, Gus. Keep
your head down.”

“I could say the same thing to you. By the way, you taking good care
of Ramsay’s Volvo?”

Conor dropped the phone in the cradle, gave the man a quick nod, and walked
out to the truck. Conor stepped up into the cab and sat next to Bobby. He
wanted to study the lay of the land as they made their approach to the
harbor area.

Less than fifteen minutes later, they were driving along a road that ran
beside a long wharf. The dockside was lit by a sparse number of
streetlights. Three fishing trawlers were tied up along the wharf, all of
their pilothouses lit up and their navigation lights on. Conor could see a
few men washing down the decks with hoses. The driver pulled into a dirt lot
adjacent to a long, three-story warehouse. At the near end was a sign for a
fishmonger, most likely the driver’s boss. Farther down the quay,
Conor could make out the shape of a motor gun boat tied up close to a single
railcar. According to the extraction plan, it was motor gun boat 622, the
Fairmile D. The Dog Boat. The same one that he and Donovan saw demonstrating
high-speed maneuvers in the Thames. All armaments were removed from sight,
and extra fuel was supposed to be on board. It was to fly the red ensign of
a merchantman, crewed by trawler men from Hull. The captain, a man called
Peter Scott, was former Royal Navy.

A sedan parked near the gun boat caught his attention. Conor couldn’t
make out who or how many people were inside, but he knew they were enjoying
cigarettes given the smoke drifting out the open windows.

The driver of the truck cut the engine, placed the keys in the visor, and
said something to Bobby.

“What’s up?” Conor asked.

“Our friend here is going home to his family. He says we can stay in
the truck as long as we like.”

Conor looked at his watch: 1934 hours. “Tell him we’ll be
moving on in a few minutes. And thank him for the ride.”

The driver jumped down from the cab and headed up a sloping road toward the
center of town.

“What now?” Bobby asked.

“Do you see that car parked down near the railcar and the gun
boat?”

“Yeah.”

“Not sure who they are, but the chances that they’re keeping an
eye on our transportation out of Sweden is good. The problem is, they
can’t see us board or we’ll never get out of here.”

“So do we wait them out?”

“No time for that.” Conor got out and went to the rear of the
truck.

Emily was sitting on the crate, gun held loosely in her lap. Eve and Gunnar
were dozing. Gunnar’s hands were still bound behind his back.

“Emily, I’m going to drive us down to the dock where the gun
boat is tied up. As soon as I stop, get moving and board.”

“Understood.” At that moment, Eve and Gunnar woke up.

“And for good measure, get the gag back in Gunnar’s
mouth.”

Conor walked around to the driver’s-side door, jumped up, started the
truck, and pulled out of the lot.

“You going to tell me what your plan is at any point?” Bobby
asked.

“Once I get rid of our visitors, we board the boat. Not
complicated.”

Bobby said something, but Conor couldn’t make it out over the sound
of the truck’s engine. He kept the truck in first gear as he set it on
a direct path to the rear of the sedan. The truck’s headlights
revealed two men turning around in their seats to watch the truck coming
toward them. Conor glanced over at the motor gun boat and saw someone in the
pilothouse, as well as a plume of dark exhaust spouting from the
boat’s stern.

Ten feet from the sedan, the passenger-side door opened, and he punched the
gas. The force of metal on metal closed the door. The truck picked up some
speed as it began to push the sedan toward the end of the wharf, but
progress slowed as it fought the braking power of the car. More gas and the
sedan and truck neared the end of the quay. The sedan balanced on the
wharf’s edge momentarily before tumbling into the harbor.

“Let’s go.”

Conor jumped out of the cab and rushed to the back of the truck. Emily was
on the ground, helping Eve jump down. Gunnar was right behind her. With the
truck engine silent, the throaty sound of the motor gun boat’s engines
filled the night. Conor was last to board.

“Get them below, Emily. Bobby, tell the captain that now would be a
good time to shove off. Those two guys might be good swimmers.”

Conor heard the car before he saw it, but the headlights quickly found him
on the aft section of the deck. The car skidded to a stop under a
streetlight. The driver got out, then the passenger. Eklof.

Conor reached for his Colt, but before he could raise it, Eklof fired off
two rounds. A deckhand on the foredeck tossed the last line into the water
and took cover behind the craft’s superstructure. As the gun boat
started to drift from the quay, Conor fired two rounds, shattering the
window of the door that Eklof was using as cover. The driver began firing as
well, rounds whizzing over Conor’s head. Bobby and Emily started
firing from the bridge, and soon the driver fell to the ground behind his
door.

As the gun boat pulled forward, Eklof sprinted toward the stern. Conor
pulled the trigger of his Colt, but the gun’s slide snapped back,
signaling an empty magazine. He dropped the gun on the deck as Eklof leaped
and landed on the aft deck, losing his balance due to the accelerating boat,
which, luckily, kept him from firing accurately. Before he could regain his
balance, Conor raced toward him. Jumping, he planted both feet into
Eklof’s chest. Eklof’s pistol flew into the air and landed in
the boat’s prop wash, while Conor landed on his back, knocking the air
from his lungs.

Eklof struggled to his feet, also gasping for air. He charged Conor, who
had barely gotten to his feet, and landed on him. Eklof wrapped his arms
around his chest, pinning Conor’s upper arms against his body. Eklof
landed one headbutt, then another. Conor’s vision blurred. He raised
his right arm and, before Eklof could launch another headbutt, grabbed the
man’s ear and ripped it from his head; blood gushed, covering
Conor’s hand, and Eklof let out a scream as he rolled off Conor and
grabbed the side of his head. Conor, his head pounding from the headbutts,
rolled on top of Eklof, grabbed his hair, and started pounding his head on
the deck.

“You. Don’t. Ever. Hit. A. Woman,” Conor screamed. Each
word was punctuated with Eklof’s head slamming into the deck. Blood
pooled under it, and his eye patch had come loose. The eye socket looked
like a dried peach pit.

Conor heard Eklof’s short, hoarse breaths, and he rolled off the man,
grabbed his legs, and dragged him toward the stern, letting his body slip
into the churning water with no fanfare, no emotion.

When Conor turned, he noticed a commotion on the port side of the
wheelhouse. Emily was bent over a body. He ran forward, the motor gun boat
picking up speed. When he reached Emily, he saw that she was tending to a
wounded man. Bobby Heugle.

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About the Author

GLENN DYER is a former commercial television executive whose career spanned thirty-seven years. That career took him to cities such as Salt Lake City, Dallas, Washington, DC, and Denver. He returned to Park City, Utah in retirement in 2013 and began writing full-time. He has long been captivated by the events of World War II and couples this fascination with his passion for historical thrillers with the publication of The Torch Betrayal and The
Ultra Betrayal, both books in the Conor Thorn Series. He and his wife Chris
have three children, all of whom live too far away. Visit his website at
http://www.glenndyer.net and follow him on Twitter @duffy_dyer and Instagram
@glennduffydyer.

 

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#FREE “All Lies (Lies Mystery Book 1)” by Andrew Cunningham

GREAT SERIES – GRAB BOOK 1!!!

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“Don’t miss this one. You’ll find mystery, suspense, adventure, and even romance.”Mystery Suspense Reviews

A seemingly innocent date gone tragically wrong plunges Del Honeycutt into a web of murder, lies, greed, and a hidden fortune dating back to a crime committed 85 years earlier by his great-grandfather.

Accompanied by Sabrina, the sister of Del’s brutally murdered date, a violent journey of discovery and fear begins. Pursued by vicious killers intent on eliminating anyone with knowledge of the 85-year-old crime, their only hope of survival is to find the reason behind the original crime and why, decades later, someone is still willing to kill to keep it hidden.

But Sabrina is concealing a monstrous lie of her own. Is she who she says she is?

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#AudioBookBlogTour “The Judge’s Demon” by K.M. Pfeifer

Author: K.M. Pfeifer

Narrator: Gerard Marquez

Length: 8 hours and 8 minutes

Series: The Demons Inside, Book 1

Publisher: K.M. Pfeifer

Released: Jul. 9, 2019

Genre: Historical Thriller

The Hunchback of Notre Dame meets The Handmaid’s Tale and YOU in this twisted rendition of history.

Claude is stricken by tragedy, and all fingers point at the Gypsies as the nation divides, and an empire falls. He is the king’s best man and has been given orders to rid France of all their problems.

He promised peace.

Amidst his role in a barbaric hunt and corrupt justice system, Claude finds himself drawn to a young girl of this minority race and consumes himself with her and his own ideas of who she should be for him.

They gave him power.

Paranoia and twisted delusion begin to bind Claude’s double life as a charming official, able to justify his every crime to his followers, but also a criminal narcissist with a blood obsession.

Now their new world must be paid for.

Will his desires for the girl soften his heart? Or will the Judge’s Demon of hatred add fuel to the fire in his search for the leader of the rebellion rising against him?

Warning: graphic violence including torture, abuse, and rape.

 

 

Pfeifer once lived on a school bus! Well, she still does, but she had so much fun with that building project that she’s doing it again, only bigger! From buses to quirky bookshelves to words on paper, Khris loves crafting things together with passion and creativity using whatever tools are on hand. Her personal experiences working with the elderly and ill in their final months has also taught her so much about history and the human mindset. She has mixed those timeless narratives with a unique perspective that walks a line between thriller and mystery with a dash of romance to reach the largest audience possible in her writings, and hopes to share that experience with everyone that needs to hear these views and stories.

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Narrator Bio

Gerard got his start at an early age, performing with various Opera companies and teams throughout Australia. After moving to America as an adult he made the transition into musical theater, and voice-over. Gerard has worked with various Opera and Musical theater companies throughout southern California and LA. Gerard has been working as a narrator and voice actor for the last few years now, and can’t wait to help bring the listeners in to K.M. Pfeifer’s dark Parisian world.

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Claude and Marie

  • What is your full name? Do you have a nickname?

-Claude- It’s James Claude Fontaine, but few know my first name.

-Marie- Marie Victoria Adams… Fontaine now. I’m still adjusting to that.

  • Do you have any siblings?

-Claude- my father fathered another child, but I don’t speak much on that.

-Marie- I have three sisters, Giselle, Valerie, and Cordelia. I was the second born.

  • How would you describe your childhood?

-Claude- I’d say there was nothing about my childhood that wasn’t already mapped out before my birth. My father held high expectations and was not kind if everything wasn’t precisely done. Some would say he was a cruel man, but I always understood my purpose and accepted the greater good that would be in my life.

-Marie- It was so much fun! Papa was a musician, and a really good one. He would take us to all of his concertos. My sisters and I loved dressing up. When I started playing the cello, we traveled even more. I even played in front of the king once. We saw so many beautiful places and met a lot of friendly people. I often miss those days.

  • Who is your best friend?

-Claude- Charles and Joseph. We all grew up around each other. We make the perfect team in our careers. I would trust them with my life and secrets.

-Marie- Growing up it was always my younger sister Val. we’ve always been close. In the last few years I would say Rosa. I don’t feel like there’s anything I couldn’t come to her with. She has made life bearable.

  • Claude mentioned secrets before, what is the most private thing you’re willing to share?

-Claude- I think we’re done here.

-Marie- I snuck out a few times, mostly at night, but a couple of times during the day. It was a really fun time.

 

 

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#Excerpt “A Walking Shadow (Backstage Mysteries Book 1)” by Elizabeth Ireland

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In 1871, Lillian Nolan accepts a small role in Macbeth, and finally fulfills her dream of becoming an actress. That is until the renowned, but venomous, female star of the production is murdered onstage opening night. When her enraged spirit haunts the theatre, Lillian is shocked to discover she can communicate with her. Offered a Faustian bargain in which she will be given talent and expertise way beyond her ability in exchange for uncovering the killer, Lillian can’t resist.

Her quest for the truth causes her to descend into the Underworld, the den of inequity below the streets of Chicago. What Lillian finds soon embroils her in a battle between her passion for performing and control over her own body as it all plays out in a supernatural game of good and evil.

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THE BACKSTAGE MYSTERY SERIES

Tagline: Life upon the wicked stage can be deadly.

Set against the backdrop of the Gilded Age, the Backstage Mystery Series stars Lillian Nolan, an unconventional member of Chicago’s upper class who dreams of a career of fortune and fame in the theatre. Talented and ambitious, she possesses a hidden skill which she is extremely reluctant to use—the ability to communicate with those who have died and now live in the world of “The Beyond.”

The series chronicles her adventures in which she continually becomes enmeshed in solving mysteries which often require her accessing the realm of the paranormal. Filled with an incredible cast of characters—factual, fictional, and sometimes non-physical—who either help or hinder her quest for the truth, the stories take place during a period considered to be the golden age of both acting and spiritualism in America.

EXCERPT

  1. On opening night in the fall of 1871, Irene Davenport, the renowned star of Macbeth is strangled to death by her signature pearls during her final bow.

The applause started to slacken, but Irene did not leave the stage. The main curtain began to close. Taking one final deep bow, she lowered her head almost to the floor and then threw it back in a triumph-filled gesture. Her pearls, following the momentum of that effort, swung back behind her and caught on the scenery. The applause picked up one final time and she decided that now was the moment to leave.

She turned, but, as if caught by an invisible hand, she was yanked back. The scenery moved upwards and was lifted into the fly space. Irene was caught and pulled backwards. The knot in her pearls slipped toward her head and began to tighten around her throat. She felt herself being slowly pulled upward. The pearls dug into her neck and she felt the pressure of each one against her delicate skin.

At first, she was merely surprised and startled. What new disaster is this? she asked herself. She put her right hand up to her neck and tried to loosen the pearls which only drew tighter. All pretenses were then cast aside; she panicked and dropped the roses, as both of her hands reached up to grab the white, translucent noose around her neck. The roses hit the floor, sending several yellow petals floating up and then gently back down to the stage, where they softly landed, abandoned on the scarred floor.

The orchestra, which had been playing background music for the change, stopped abruptly. The applause completely died out, replaced by confusion. The audience watched as Irene’s feet rose from the stage floor, and still the scenery continued to move up and into the fly space. She pulled at her pearls. In blind terror now, she concentrated only on wrenching away the pearls, but was ineffective against the ever tightening noose. Her face lost its actor’s mask and now showed only raw fear. As she struggled and gasped for breath, the audience finally began to comprehend what was taking place. A woman screamed in horror and that was the signal for the entire audience to merge into the aisles in an attempt to exit wherever possible.

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Elizabeth IrelandAuthor Bio  

Elizabeth Ireland discovered her passion for theatre early. After receiving undergraduate and graduate degrees in Theatre, she accepted a teaching position in a vibrant performing arts department at a college in northern Illinois. For ten years, she taught, directed and ran front-of-house operations. American Theatre History—particularly that of the 19th century—has always been of particular interest to her.

She has been a quarter-finalist and a semi-finalist for the Don and Gee Nicholl Fellowship in screenwriting sponsored by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Two of her screenplays have been optioned but remain unproduced. Her nonfiction work, Women of Vision: Ordinary Women, Extraordinary Lives, was published in 2008. Her work has also been published in a collection of paranormal short stories, Paramourtal: Tales of Undying Love and Loving the Undead. She lives in metro Atlanta with her ever-patient husband, and two quirky dachshunds.

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