#BookTour “Landslide” by Adam Sikes

Landslide by Adam Sikes BannerNovember 14 – December 9, 2022 Virtual Book Tour


book cover



International Arms—Private Military Companies—Corruption at Every Turn

U.S. Marine veteran Mason Hackett moved to London to start his life over, and he’s done his best to convince himself that what happened fifteen years ago doesn’t matter—the people he killed, the men he lost, the lives he ruined. But when Mason sees the face of a dead friend flash on a television screen and then receives a mysterious email referencing a CIA operation gone bad, he can no longer ignore his inner demons.

Driven by loyalty and a need to uncover the truth, Mason launches on a perilous journey from the Czech Republic to Romania toward the war-torn separatist region in eastern Ukraine to honor a fifteen-year-old promise. The answers he seeks—the fate of a friend and his connection to the underworld of international arms dealers and defense corporations—throw Mason into the cauldron of a covert war where no one can be trusted.

Praise for Landslide:

“Sikes imbues the emotionally complex Mason with a palpable sense of grief. Readers will look forward to his further adventures.”

Publishers Weekly

Landslide is not only a gripping geo-political thriller, but a morally-complex tale. It grapples with fraught questions of both individual and national loyalty as well as killing and the grim realities of war. I read this book over the course of two-white knuckled days that I won’t soon forget. Adam Sikes is a huge talent.”

Elliot Ackerman, New York Times best-selling author

“Adam Sikes is the consummate storyteller. What a fast-moving train Landslide is, a real rollercoaster of a ride, gripping, emotional and thought-provoking. I enjoyed every thrilling second. This is good stuff!”

J. Randy Taraborrelli, New York Times best-selling author

“A gem of a read with mach-speed mayhem, loaded with rich detail from a writer who knows what he’s talking about.”

Steve Berry, New York Times best-selling author

“With an irresistible hook that grabs you from the get-go, Landslide is an action-packed, nonstop espionage thrill ride that will keep you furiously turning the pages. Marine Corps veteran and former intelligence officer Adam Sikes delivers a fast-paced, gritty, supercharged read.”

Andrew Kaplan, New York Times best-selling author

Landslide is a seismic quake of an international, high-stakes thriller in the grand tradition of Daniel Silva, Brad Thor, and Brad Taylor. Adam Sikes has penned a seminal effort that’s bracingly effective in its portrayal of current geopolitical dynamics through the eyes of former Marine, and current expatriate, Mason Hackett. A terrific tapestry of a tale with the kind of stitching that would make the likes of Alistair MacLean and Frederick Forsyth take notice.”

Jon Land, USA Today best-selling author

Book Details:

Genre: Spy Thriller

Published by: Oceanview Publishing

Publication Date: September 2022

Number of Pages: 368

ISBN: 9781608095049 (ISBN10: 1608095045)

Series: A Mason Hackett Espionage Thriller, #1

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Oceanview Publishing


Author Bio:

Adam Sikes

Adam Sikes is a novelist and freelance writer. He is a graduate of Georgetown University with a degree in International Politics and a Masters in History. Prior to taking up the pen, he served in the US Marine Corps with combat tours in the Balkans, Iraq, and elsewhere in the Middle East. Following the Marines, Adam joined the CIA and conducted operations in Central Asia, East Africa, and Europe. He is the author of the international thriller Landslide and is the co-author of Open Skies: My Life as Afghanistan’s First Female Pilot. He lives in Southern California.

Catch Up With Adam Sikes:
BookBub – @sikesar
Instagram – @Adam_R_Sikes
Twitter – @Adam_R_Sikes


Tour Participants!

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaway entries!



This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Adam Sikes. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.


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#BlogTour “Kiss of the Assassin” by Joylene Nowell Butler

Today let me introduce you to an intriguing new release, KISS OF THE ASSASSIN, by author Joylene Nowell Butler.

by Joylene Nowell Butler

◊ Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc (March 23, 2022)
◊ Paperback: 424 pages
◊Language‏: English
* File size: ‎ 1138 KB
* Text-to-Speech: ‎ Enabled
* Screen Reader: ‎ Supported

Marina Antonovna, a Soviet spy, and Mateo Arcusa, an American homicide lieutenant first meet in Cambodia during the Vietnam War as enemies. Fearful that the most powerful man in the Soviet Union, KGB Chairman Vladimir Kurenkov, has ordered her death, Marina risks everything to defect to the United States.


She promises Mateo that her days as an assassin are over. Vladimir is determined to do whatever it takes to bring her back and, by threatening Mateo’s life, forces Marina to break her promise.



the Author: Joylene Nowell Butler

Joylene Butler lives with her husband in the tiny village of Cluculz
Lake in central B.C… She is the author of three suspense novels and a contributor to one anthology.

For more on Joylene and her writing, visit her website and blog, as well as connect with her on Goodreads, Facebook, Twitter, and Amazon.



“…He flicked his goggles to his forehead, wiped at the sweat under his eyes, dismissed the strange smell introduced into the air and, under a three-quarter moon, watched Samo replace his goggles and slowly stand. They were six hours from extraction. General Vien glanced back at Mateo. Mateo nodded, and a smile of satisfaction crossed the General’s face. He rose and looked east. They were ten klicks from Cambodian’s border, ten klicks from affluence. Why shouldn’t Vien feel cocky?

Mateo glanced back at the men at his flank and faced Vien again. A single bullet buzzed past his ear. Then the air danced. He dropped to the ground. General Vien collapsed. Blood squirted from the gaping wound in his neck. Mateo crabbed toward him. Where the hell were the others? Bandage. Pressure bandage—Christ, the package wouldn’t open—Teeth. Teeth!

He saw the terror in the general’s expression and coaxed him not to speak. But Vien’s eyes pleaded. He looked like a man cheated, and reached up grabbing Mateo’s collar.

“General, hang on. Doc’s on his way.”

Mateo crammed the pressure bandage against Vien’s wound. Blood soaked his hand. Up ahead, the returning hammer of fire from mixed[…]”


Excerpt From: Joylene Nowell Butler. “Kiss of the Assassin.” iBooks.


 Thanks so much for stopping by today during Joylene’s visit. Doesn’t this sound like an intriguing book, especially for the times we are in?



#BookTour “Winter Dawn” by Alex Callister

WinterDawn copy

Congratulations to author Alex Callister on the release of the highly anticipated prequel in the Winter series, Winter Dawn! Read on for more info and a chance to win a $25 Amazon e-gift card and some book swag!


Winter Dawn (Winter #3)

Publication Date: January 24th, 2022

Genre: Thriller/ Spy Thriller/ Strong Female Lead

It is darkest before the dawn..

A hunt to the death. An all-seeing executioner. An unlikely hero.

From the author of the #1 best selling Audible Thriller of the Year comes a totally gripping crime thriller with heart-pounding suspense.

A New York Senator is being hunted.

With the world watching, she has been chosen as Colosseum’s next victim. No one can look away from the chilling new reality show, which awards a huge cash prize to the first person to assassinate its target. No-where is safe. No-one can be trusted. But just when her brutal death seems inevitable, an arrogant 21-year-old arrives from London to protect her. Now Winter is all that stands between the Senator and Colosseum. As dawn creeps in, time is running out for Winter to unravel the riddle at the heart of this sinister game: who is the shadowy Adjudicator of Colosseum, and what is his ultimate purpose?

Meet Winter: she’s the audacious, hyper-intelligent GCHQ agent with more notches on her bed post than James Bond and more hacking cred than Lisbeth Salander. Winter Dawn is the beginning of the Winter series, journeying back to the start of her story. This time, she’s grappling with Colosseum: a sinister online phenomenon that has gripped the world. It promises a massive cash prize to the successful hunter of its victims, unleashing an unstoppable tide of violence – and the world’s authorities are powerless to prevent it.

When a New York Senator is targeted, Winter is called in to protect her. But with all the world watching, there’s nowhere to hide. No one has ever survived Colosseum. It’s the winter solstice, and as they journey together into the dark heart of the longest night, they soon discover that nothing about Colosseum is what it seems. There are rules, and there is a purpose, if only they can solve the riddle in time. Colosseum is more than a hunt: it’s a challenge. Targets must face their darkest fear, or die at dawn.

Add to Goodreads

Available on ebook, Paperback, Audiobook, AudioCD

Also on Amazon US

About the Author


Alex has spent her career charting the rise of the internet and is fascinated by the dark web and its potential to facilitate crime. An action movie fan, her books are full of cult references. Her kick-ass heroine, Winter, was inspired by Bond, Bourne, John Wick, Vin Diesel, Jack Reacher and many others.

Alex has a history degree, a certificate in creative writing and a murderous imagination. She writes when she gets a chance, which is mainly at night between 10pm and 2am at home in London, with her three Bengal tigers.

WINTER DARK was the Audible Thriller of the Year 2019.

A. Callister | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

Winter Series


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#BookTour “Heart of Hope and Fear (The Order of the Crystal Daggers #3)” by C.S. Johnson

HeartofHopeandFear copy

Welcome to the tour for the gorgeous final installment in The Order of the Crystal Daggers series by C.S. Johnson, called Heart of Hope and Fear. Read on for more details and a chance to win hardcover editions of the entire trilogy!!!

3 Heart of Hope and Fear front cover preview

Heart of Hope and Fear (The Order of the Crystal Daggers #3)

Publication Date: December 2nd, 2021

Genre: Historical Romance/ Historical Fantasy/ Spy Trilogy

In a moment of desperation and desire, one girl takes a leap of faith to secure the future of her nation — and save her family.

Prague, 1871

Despite the many demands that come with being a member of the Order of the Crystal Daggers, Eleanora Svobodová has plenty of reasons to celebrate. With Lumiere’s capture and Lady Penelope’s reluctant acceptance of Ferdy, not even Ben’s painful ire can completely diminish her joy.

But just as the future begins to look bright, the past catches up to Eleanora and the other members of the Order.

For as they investigate Karl’s disappearance, Eleanora learns the shocking secret about her mother’s final mission—and Lady Penelope’s treachery—just as the Emperor heads to Bohemia to conduct a special tripartite council, despite the threat to his life.

Can Eleanora and the Order find a way to save the kingdom? And even if they do, will they be able to survive a new betrayal from among their ranks?

Full of surprising twists and turns, Heart of Hope and Fear is the final book in The Order of the Crystal Daggers, a historical romance spy trilogy from C. S. Johnson.

Add to Goodreads


Louis Valoris chuckled as he stirred his tea with a spoon. “I do believe it is time we were formally introduced, Lady Eleanora.”

“It’s you,” I whispered, shaking my head in shame.

“I must say, you look so much like your mother. Even in the moonlight, I would’ve sworn it was her ghost if Lumiere hadn’t found you and your brother last year.”

“Eleanora.” Lady Penelope scowled over at me.

I gave her an apologetic look, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. She’d warned me before Louis was crafty and full of cunning, and I’d been completely caught off guard.

“I must commend you on her progress, Pepé,” Louis continued. “But she’s still very naïve, and that’s dangerous, especially for one who carries the weapon of the Order, yet none of its secrets. How do you know she won’t betray you when she learns the truth?”

“Eleanora is a loyal member of the Order,” Lady Penelope said, her voice full of resignation instead of pride. “She will not betray me.”

“It would be nice to see her live up to her mother’s legacy.”

At his disparaging tone, rage and fury rocked through me to my core. Lumiere had told me less than an hour ago how Louis had a hand in poisoning my mother and killing Nassara—and now I knew he’d used Xiana to fulfill his plans.

“The dead deserve some respect, Louis,” Lady Penelope warned, speaking before I could yell at him. “I’d rather talk of the present than the past, now that we’ve arrived at our final rendezvous.”

She reached down and pulled out her own violet-colored dagger in one hand and a pistol in the other.

Purchase Here!

About the Author

S. Johnson is the award-winning, genre-hopping author of several novels, including young adult sci-fi and fantasy adventures such as the Starlight Chronicles series, the Once Upon a Princess saga, and the Divine Space Pirates trilogy. With a gift for sarcasm and an apologetic heart, she currently lives in Atlanta with her family. Find out more at http://www.csjohnson.me.

CS Johnson | Facebook | Kofi

Giveaway: Click the link below for a chance to win a hardcover set of The Order of the Crystal Daggers Trilogy!

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#Excerpt “Ghosts of Guatemala” by Collin Glavac


Spy Thriller

Date Published: 11-25-2019


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Who can you trust when corruption and danger are a way of life?

The CIA never left Latin America, and is facing catastrophic blackmail at the hands of an erratic Guatemalan drug lord: the infamous patrón of
Antigua – Pablo Puentes. Desperate for a swift solution, the agency calls in their black operative fixer: John Carpenter.

John is a cold-blooded professional ready for the job. But the mission doesn’t have a simple fix. Pablo has a disastrous kill switch in place.

John is still haunted by the mysterious death of his best friend who died on a far too similar mission, and now is uncertain about how much he can trust his handler or his sensual partner.

Back at the agency, tensions are running hot as the stench of corruption is growing to a boiling point. If things aren’t put to rights – and soon – the entire mission will go up in flames and take the CIA down with it.

Only John Carpenter can bring this drug lord to justice and get the answers he deserves.

Because this mission is personal…

If you like the relentless tension of Daniel Silva and the gritty reality of Lee Child then you’ll love this first book in

the John Carpenter Trilogy!





The gunshot slammed into Brian’s chest with the force of a charging bull. It hadn’t been the first time he’d been shot. But he’d also never taken a direct hit in the torso or lost any vitals before. The slug threw him against the veranda door he had just snuck through, smashing glass and raking his arms as he crumpled painfully onto his back.

He managed not to moan – he was a professional even in the worst situations – but he couldn’t stop himself from hyperventilating. He was in shock. He knew he was in shock. He tried to kick it. Clear his mind, focus on the task at hand. He’d been shot. He needed to eliminate the threat. He had to finish the mission.

The searing pain was beginning to drip into his system now, a slow whine that overtook his adrenaline and as his pain tolerance started to be overwhelmed, he wanted to cry out, desperate for reprieve.

There was no one here to help him. If a mission went wrong, if someone was captured or killed, there would be no rescue. That’s how The Firm’s agent’s operated. That was how they kept the United States government far away from any political fallout. And besides, they never made mistakes.

Brian crawled painfully to cover, feeling blood smear against shards of glass against the floor. He pressed a hand to his chest, not bothering to look at how bad the wound was. He didn’t need to look at it. He knew what that kind of bloodflow through his gloves meant. He managed to pull himself next to a cabinet, leaning his back against the wood and tried to calm his breath. His sigh turned into a cough. He raised his other hand instinctively to cover his mouth and he found he hadn’t dropped his gun when he’d fallen. He held the reliable Beretta in white knuckled fingers that refused to let go, shaking from the effort of his training that refused to abandon him against all odds.

He looked down at the glass. Some of it had been decorated with a metal coating. He placed his gun in his lap and retrieved a large piece, angling it to see where his attacker was hiding. It was dark and his vision was beginning to blur. His thoughts began to wander.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be a simple hit. Kill the head of an Antiguan drug cartel. Snatch some information off a computer while he was at it. An upper level operative had confided in him that something was wrong with this cartel. Something about corruption. Something way above petty drug wars and trafficking operations.

He had slipped past security. Gotten into the estate. His target should have been here, caught unawares. A silent chuckle escaped him. Had he gotten that rusty? He coughed up blood.

As if to answer his unspoken questions, a figure emerged from the darkness. Brian watched it through the mirrored glass, but it was getting increasingly difficult to concentrate. The man was a large figure; imposing, he held a handgun and even as his consciousness ebbed and flowed, Brian couldn’t help but admire what a well-tailored suit he was wearing. He always tried to be an optimist. The man continued to walk toward Brian’s hiding place, waving the handgun as he spoke. His low voice pierced the darkness.

“Looks like my deal is better than your deal, mamón. I almost feel bad. But business is business.”

That was his target, no doubt about it. Sandor Puentes. But Brian didn’t understand what the man was saying. He couldn’t piece anything together. His mind was a fog. In his final moments, bleeding out, desperately attempting to complete at least part of his mission, Brian thought of his best friend John Carpenter, and the painstaking Spanish lesson he’d received. He’d wanted to master at least one good swear word.

Que te folle un pez!” Brian cried, bursting from behind the cabinet and preparing to unload his magazine into Sandor Puentes, brutal cartel boss of Antigua, probably one of the largest sex traffickers in all of Latin America. I hope you get fucked by a fish!

All people deserved justice. Some people’s justice was death.

Gunshots tore through the air like vengeance.


“In here!” Juan Puentes yelled to the guards. Where were the guards?

He had heard his mother and father yelling, and gunshots. The deals they had made with the other cartels were holding strong. Who could be attacking them? His heart pounded in his chest, his soul itched for battle. If there was trouble, he would protect his family. He clutched his shotgun and bounded into the foyer where he was sure the commotion was. Guards flooded the room alongside him, some shining flashlights. Idiotas, Juan thought, pushing a guard out of the way. He flicked on the light switch, turning on the lavish electric chandelier.

Pablo and Isabella, his uncle and mother were in the room, holding each other, shaking and weeping. Juan stared at them in shock. His eyes drifted over to his father’s desk, and he saw a handgun resting idly there. He was hardly aware of anything else until his uncle spoke and pointed near the door.

“I’m sorry, sobrino. Nephew. Truly, I am.”

A man dressed all in black laid in a bloody heap on the floor. Blood and broken glass were everywhere. Juan didn’t understand.

“I suppose it is not sobrino, anymore, mi hijo,” Pablo’s words hung, foreign in Juan’s ears. My son.

It was then that Juan saw.

Sandor Puentes, his strong and determined father – his loving father – lay beside the other man, his forehead blown apart, mouth twisted in a sneer.

Juan let out a wail, overwhelmed by the sight of his father, firing his shotgun into the air. The ornate chandelier exploded in a shower of glass and crystal. Its shattered remains fell all around him as darkness covered the room once more.

Chapter 1


One hundred people a week are murdered in Guatemala. It is one of the most dangerous countries in the world, yet Antigua is known for its safety. That was because many cartels kept their children in Antigua. Teenage guards held shotguns guarding storefronts. They were never robbed. Who would be stupid enough to commit a crime with cartels keeping the city peaceful?

The government and local authorities were corrupt. This was known. Everything was owned and run by economic elites known as the oligarcas familias. The family of oligarchs. Mostly everyone else was poor.

Yet Antigua was called the ‘jewel of Guatemala’ because of its beauty.

Pablo Puentes believed in Antigua.

Pablo was slightly shorter than average and had a squatter frame, olive-brown skin and beady eyes. Anyone would recognize him as a Mayan. He was proud of this. He was one of the many whose descendants had originally flourished before Spanish conquest and colonialism had wiped the existing civilizations and created an underclass that lasted even today. But unlike the majority of Mayans in Guatemala who were poor and destitute, Pablo was wealthier than the city itself.

He lived on Cortega street, one of the richest neighbourhoods in the city, boasting a line of trees decorating either end, shading passersby from the sun. His estate was at the end of the street, vast and with ten foot walls, keeping itself hidden away from peering eyes. Vines crawled up the towering walls and were lined with barbed wire. It surrounded the largest courtyard in Antigua. Guards wearing camouflage uniforms and colored berets patrolled the walls and the dozens of long hallways and luxury suites. They held wicked Remington Model 870 tac-14 shotguns.

It had been two weeks since his brother Sandor Puentes had been killed. Pablo Puentes was now the new head of one of the largest cartels in Guatemala, and today would solidify his position more than anything he had done so far. But there was no wealth without danger.

Tío, please,” Juan Puentes pleaded, folding his arms to stop himself from using them as he spoke. He was trying to live up to his station, and be the strong imposing man his father had been. “Blackmail has never been our business. Business is our business, no? What am I missing here?” His beret spun slightly as he shook his head. It was white, the only one among the others holding that color, distinguishing him as el comandante. Many guards in the room wore the new black berets marking them as Pablo’s chosen men while still others sported the red berets of common guards.

Pablo couldn’t have been more opposite, wearing a polo shirt with white and cream pants made of cotton. He sat with his legs spread wide and comfortable, elbows resting on the massive oak table. He radiated power.

“You are right Juan. Business is our business. Every opportunity seized.” Pablo raised a fist and clenched it. “You are thinking of money. This is a small thing to think about. I have money. You have money. We all have money. But now I have something no one else does.”

“Then keep it. Don’t give it away.”

Pablo smiled and shook his head like a man who refused to share a secret. “To become invincible, I must declare war.”

“Yes, but tío, this opens another front in a war we don’t need to-”

“And there is no need to call me tío. Uncle. I much prefer being your father.”

Juan grew quiet. After his father Sandor died Pablo had quickly married Isabella, Juan’s mother. Pablo was now both his uncle and stepfather.

Isabella sat beside Juan cradling a laptop. Her slender frame was cloaked in a loose, blood-red dress. She gave her son a look of sympathy then spoke softly to Pablo.

“Juan is right that these are not simple cartels, or even politicians to threaten or bribe, mi amor.”

Pablo pointed an index finger down at the table and opened his mouth to make a point but Isabella continued.

“I am not saying no. You decided this. Juan is simply being cautious. There is a reason he heads your security.”

“I am not being cautious,” Juan snapped, immediately regretting the rudeness shown to his mother as he caught her glare. He touched her shoulder lightly in unspoken apology, before turning back to Pablo. “I am asking you to be more ambitious. There is more we can do with this information.”

Pablo raised a hand to cut off Juan’s protests. It was clear Isabella would not sway him either. He had decided. Pablo reached for a small gray cell phone lying in the middle of the table. He opened it solemnly and handed it over to Isabella.

Isabella’s eyes flicked from her laptop screen to the phone. She punched in a number then handed the phone back to Pablo.

They waited as it rang.

Pablo did not put the phone on speaker for the benefit of his wife or stepson. He shared so much with them and kept few things even from his guards. He had a reputation of being strangely open and keeping little to no privacy. Yet even Pablo wanted this conversation to be kept from his family. This moment would be his own. He held the phone close to his ear.

The line continued to ring.

Juan pursed his lips, eyes fixated on the phone. Isabella’s face was a mask, unreadable.

There was a click. Static, then a breath.

“Go ahead.” The voice on the other end was hard and flat, and full of contempt.

Pablo smiled. His voice would not be the one they expected, and he reveled in this revealed surprise; the tension before a magician turns his hand.

“Your man is dead,”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“But perhaps you already knew that.”

Some static and a shuffling sound.

“Who is this?” It was a different voice now. Another man’s voice, hard, short, strong. A voice that gave commands instead of taking them.

“They call me the patrón of Antigua,” Pablo continued. “I have always liked the title.”

“Pablo Puentes.”

He was surprised how quickly the man had identified him. He had hoped for a little more playfulness in this exchange. “It seems you have heard of me.”

There was a brief pause, and Pablo thought he could hear the chattering of a computer keyboard. The voice spoke again.

“We know you front one of the largest illicit cartels in Latin America, dealing primarily in cocaine and sex trafficking. You extort protection money from half of Antigua. Money laundering. We know you have members of the oligarcha familia on your payroll – the respected López family voted to suppress the anti-corruption commission. We know you are currently located at 117 Cortega street. We know your wife Isabella Muñoz 43, and stepson, Juan Puentes, 27, and son Pablito Puentes, 8.”

“It seems you know quite a lot about me.”

“We even know you killed your brother Sandor Puentes. Does Isabella know that, Pablo? What about Juan? Mr. Puentes, this is an office of the United States of America’s Central Intelligence Agency. We don’t know a lot about you. We know everything about you.”

Pablo had to admit, some of this was concerning. But a fire was lit in his mind and though Pablo’s fists clenched, his smile did not waver. Instead, if anything, his determination was steeled. His voice cut the air like a knife.

“Do you know about this, Mr. Central Intelligence Agency?”

Pablo turned to Isabella, smiling, and nodded to her. She smiled back and took his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. Then she took a breath, shook herself, and sent a simple email to the man they were speaking with.

Pablo waited patiently. There was the sound of keyboards now – he was sure there was more than one – and hushed whispers saying something incoherent. Finally, the voice replied.

“You think you’re clever Puentes. You’re not. We know about this.”

Pablo put one of his hands up, as if making a sign of surrender, even though the man on the other end of the line couldn’t see. He was enjoying himself. “Alright, alright. It seems there are no secrets. This is good. I hate secrets.” Pablo leaned forward in his chair and bared his teeth. “I’m sure the American people know about this if it is no secret.”

“If you send any of this information to the-”

“It is too bad you cannot do anything.”

“Pablo, it appears you misunderstand the sheer power of the United States of America. Within hours, a Reaper drone loaded with Hellfire air-to-ground missiles can be called to strike wherever we choose around the globe. Its blast is a focused fifty-foot kill radius. You and your family can run. We don’t miss. It doesn’t leave dirt in its crater because the thousand-degree Fahrenheit chemical reactions are too hot. It makes glass. I have 117 Cortega street prepared for a priority cue. All I have to do is give the word.”

“I don’t think the Guatemalan government would like that very much, or the United Nations for that matter.”

“For Christ’s sake we bankroll the United Nations. All I have to do,” the man broke up the sentence for emphasis, “is give. The. Word. Do you know what the word is Pablo? The word is go. I know my drone pilots personally. Maybe they should get to know you too.”

“My brother used to say it’s not what you do, it’s who you know.”


“I disagreed with him. It is what you do. That is why he is dead and I am alive. Señor, I have a very long list of emails for respected American journalists who are very good writers, and they write for very curious citizens. If I am killed, these journalists will receive the same information I sent to you.”

More silence. Pablo considered for a moment that the line was dead. He continued anyway.

“My brother did not know what I could do. But you, you know what I can do. Perhaps you will be safe.”

The silence continued for a moment, then there came a sound of exasperation.

“What do you want? What bizarre stroke of madness made you think you could get something out of this?”

Pablo shrugged. “Maybe send some money. Maybe send some favors.” He leaned forward again. “But whatever you do or do not do does not matter. You cannot kill me. That is what you did not know. Now. You. Do.”

He ended the call. Pablo snapped the small cell phone in two pieces and tossed the remains on the table in front of him. Juan let out a breath of air through his teeth. Pablo gave him a sideways glance and winked. He probably hadn’t liked the way he had spoken about his late father. But Juan was his son now. He would be stronger. Juan would be part of something much bigger now.

Isabella stroked his leg, bringing him out of his reflections. “You have become the most powerful man in Guatemala, mi amor.”

“No,” said Pablo, stroking her cheek, although she wasn’t wrong. “I have become the most powerful man in America.”


About the Author

Collin Glavac is a Canadian born actor and writer who lives in the province of Ontario Canada. He has written, directed and acted in two original stage plays, In Real Life, and LoveSpell. He completed his Dramatic and Liberal Arts B.A. and M.A at Brock University.

Ghosts of Guatemala is his first novel.

Collin loves hearing from readers, so please don’t hesitate to contact him by email at: collinglavac@gmail.com.


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#BlogTour “The Moscow Whisper” by Michael Jenkins


Welcome to the blog tour for action-packed, spy thriller The Moscow Whisper by Michael Jenkins!

50370038._SX318_The Moscow Whisper

Publication Date: June 12th, 2020

Genre: Thriller/ Espionage/ Action/ Spy Thriller

Publisher: Failsafe Thrillers

Length: 407 Pages

‘Sometimes you have to enter the death zone to save the innocent ’

A top-secret clique of former spies meet for dinner to hatch a plan to murder a competitor, not knowing that they are under surveillance from a covert arm of British Intelligence. Hours later, with bodies strewn across a terrace, a piece of secret intelligence reveals an international plot of colossal magnitude.

For disgraced agent Sean Richardson, this is the beginning of a deniable mission to infiltrate and disrupt a group of Russian mercenaries who are working clandestinely to take over a nation state.

Acting covertly as an illicit arms trafficker, Sean is dropped into a deadly cauldron of terrorists and high-tech weaponry that will take a nation down. As the bullets fly and the chaos rains in, can Sean take down the merchants of death…..or has he finally met his match?

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One of my favourite extracts from the novel where Sean has to act with guile and stealth to hack into his targets home computer. A nervous espisode, as capture would mean death from the brutal Russian mercenary. 

At exactly eight o’clock in the evening, Dozich’s internal CCTV system was infiltrated by The Court’s hackers sitting at their dimly lit consoles somewhere in the quiet Suffolk countryside. Sean’s phone began to vibrate – sure enough, right on time. Jack messaged him on TextSecure and the phone came alive with a green screen showing three dots flickering. ‘Good to go. All stations on standby.’

The Court’s hackers had inserted a Trojan worm deep into the servers of the villa, which quickly propagated laterally to gain the privileged access rights to the CCTV system. The hackers took control of each of the internal cameras that would provide sight of Sean making his way to the rooms he would search.

‘I’ll be back in an hour,’ he said to Yelena. ‘If anyone comes and asks where I am, text me, and tell them I’m on the loo.’

‘I can come along and keep an eye out for you while you’re in the room you know. It’s my father’s house and if anything goes wrong, I’ll be able to tell a story far better than you at being caught mooching around like a jewel thief.’

‘Funny that, Jack set my legend up to show I was once an amateur thief.’

Had Sean seen the anxious look on Jack’s face back at The Court, he may have taken her up on the offer to tag along. But no. he needed to do this work alone. He stepped outside the door knowing the corridor cameras were now under the control of The Court hackers who had digitally manipulated the imagery being seen by Dozich’s security operators deep in the basement of the villa. He then sent a text to Jugsy: ‘Land the drone on Dozich’s balcony. Five minutes.’

Within three minutes, Sean had turned a key to enter the spacious office which was located on the first floor of the villa. He’d memorised the plans of the villa and the layout of Dozich’s office with the help of Yelena who had managed to coax the information from the housekeeper as well as the location of the spare key that her father always left in the vase opposite the door.

As Sean started to rummage the room, he still couldn’t work out why Yelena had been so accommodating, so helpful. Almost from the very beginning when he first caught her half naked in that room in Tuscany. Since that moment, it had not been at all difficult to extract information from her. Indeed, she even steered him straight to the Albanian thug. Why, he wondered?

His phone began to ring. The signal that the drone was now inbound and imminent. Sean walked over to the terrace, released the latch on the sliding door, and stepped out to be confronted by a buzzing quadcopter two feet ahead of him at head height. He imagined Jugsy grinning at him through the onboard camera, so he decided to give him the finger. Following a smile at the ugly whirring beast, he grabbed a small black pouch from a cradle below the drone’s belly. He gave a thumbs up into the eye of the onboard camera, and watched it lift quickly before silently peeling off into the night to land on the roof of the villa.

Sean pointed his penlight towards the large white desk that sat neatly in the corner of the room with two twenty-inch screens and a desktop computer. He gazed briefly at the three large pictures behind Dozich’s desk. His gaze turned into serious study. Something had caught his eye. One picture had three men dressed in Spetsnaz fatigues and Dozich holding an AK47. It looked like it was taken in Afghanistan. Dozich was stood next to a man Sean recognised. It was a much younger Sergei. The Russian spy Jack had recruited and the man he had met only a year ago in the very conference room that Jack was now sat in. Sean’s nape began to tingle. What if Sergei had played Jack all along? Surely this is too much of a coincidence for Sergei, the lead officer for a Russian illegals programme in the UK, to be a military friend of Dozich?

Sean took a photo of the wall mounted picture with his smartphone and beamed it back to Jack using the secure photo app specially designed for Court operations. He muttered a few words to himself about moles and how Swartz might have been compromised, before sitting at the desk. The computer screen was alive with a background picture of a mountain view. He tapped the return button to bring up the password box. He then stood up and walked around the room once more until he finally found what he was after. A small second desktop machine with a laptop beside it on a small table next to an open fireplace. Sean instinctively knew that Dozich would probably use the laptop for emails and internet transmissions, whilst he kept his main desktop machine isolated from any intruders who would hack into his machine via the internet. Operational security for organised crime lords in the digital world was a must, and one that Dozich would take seriously.

Sean tapped the number into his phone that he’d been given by Jack to speak to a Court operator in the operations room back in Suffolk. The hacker would help him get into the machine to search and retrieve all of the files of Dozich’s illicit trade, his financial connections and any connecting evidence to Sir Rhys.

‘Sean? Can you hear me? My name’s Bill?’

‘Yes, I can, I’m in front of the machine, go ahead.’

‘OK, this won’t take long. First off, there are two pensticks in the black pouch. Both will be required to perform this attack which should take less than five minutes. The blue stick will be used to create a live USB that will boot on the laptop while, the yellow stick holds the payload that will then be executed on the device. It will infiltrate the machine and search for the password hash. Place the blue one in now.’

Sean drew the blue pen drive from his jeans pocket and placed it into the USB drive. ‘Done,’ he said waiting impatiently for the next instruction.

‘OK, now on the pen drive is a small switch. Turn it on so a green light flashes once before going solid after five seconds.’

‘Done, what’s next.’

‘Just sit back for about three minutes or so. It’ll boot on the laptop and also sniff for the drone sat above you on the roof, and once it’s connected, we’ll have a transmission frequency to extract the data we need.’

Available on Amazon

About the Author


I started climbing at 13, survived being lost in Snowdonia at 14, nearly drowned at 15, and then joined the Army at 16. Risk and adventure was built into my DNA and I feel very fortunate to have served the majority of my working career as an intelligence officer within Defence Intelligence, and as an explosive ordnance disposal officer and military surveyor within the Corps of Royal Engineers.

I feel privileged to have served for twenty-eight years in the British Army as a soldier and officer, working in Defence Intelligence and Counter-Terrorist Bomb Disposal operations, rising through the ranks to complete my service as a major. I served across the globe on numerous military operations as well as extensive travel and adventure on many major mountaineering and exploration expeditions that I led or was involved in.

I was awarded the Geographic Medal by the Royal Geographical Society for mountain exploration and served on the screening committee of the Mount Everest Foundation charity for many years. It was humbling after so many years of service when I was awarded the MBE for services to counter-terrorism in 2007.

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#Excerpt “The Lazarus Charter” by Tony Bassett

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(Teacher Bob Shaw is suspicious about the new life being led by his friend, Professor Gus Morley.  Although Morley and his bodyguard Ryan Benjamin warn him off, Bob is still curious and follows the two men for a mile and a half through the streets of Fitzrovia).

‘Breathless after running the last few metres, I reached the same turning beneath a stucco entrance arch. I found myself in a smart mews – a street where, decades ago, coachmen and grooms would have kept horses and carriages.

As I squinted at the street sign, saying: ‘Hamelin Mews,’ I was just in time to observe the pair entering a quaint two-storey Victorian house twenty metres ahead of me on the right.

Curiosity overcame my fears. I walked cautiously down the cobbled street until I reached the entrance. Bright mauve wisteria clambered beside the front door and curled above the ground floor windows. To the left of the black door was a shiny gold-coloured plaque proclaiming: ‘Hamelin Clinic.’

There were no further details about the nature of the enterprise conducted within. Perhaps Gus had had a hospital operation and was receiving follow-up treatment here, I thought. I went to the window and peered through one of the square panes. It looked like a small office with a reception desk.

Suddenly, Ryan’s menacing face appeared behind the glass, baring his teeth like a fighting dog.

It was time to leave. I raced back towards the arch, but within seconds felt a powerful hand gripping my shoulder.

I spun round, ready to fight back, but my assailant – Ryan – struck me hard on the jaw, a blow which sent me sprawling onto the ground.

I quickly recovered, leaped to my feet and swung a punch at Ryan, directly hitting the left side of his head, but he hardly flinched and responded by jabbing me forcibly in the stomach.

Winded by the man for the second time and doubled up in pain, I must have staggered about in front of him like a stumbling hunchback. Then he pummelled my body with a series of further blows until I collapsed on the ground and passed out.’



Bob Shaw is baffled to see a man in a brown coat at a bustling Underground station. Surely it can’t be his friend, the scientist Professor Morley? Morley perished weeks before in a blazing car. Is the man an impostor or did his friend fake his death?

This fascinating and ingenious thriller tells of Bob’s battle to find out the truth, helped by his wife Anne.  They are confronted by ruthless enemies and forced to flee their home in this fast-paced spy thriller from the author of Smile Of The Stowaway.

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About Tony BassettTony Bassett

Tony Bassett, who was born in West Kent, grew up wanting to be a writer from the age of nine when he edited a school magazine. After attending Hull University where he won a `Time-Life’ magazine student journalism award, he spent six years working as a journalist in Sidcup, Worcester and Cardiff before moving to Fleet Street. Tony spent 37 years working for the national press, mainly for the `Sunday People’ where he worked both for the newsdesk and the investigations department. He helped cover the Jeremy Thorpe trial for the `Evening Standard’, broke the news in the `Sun’ of Bill Wyman’s plans to marry Mandy Smith and found evidence for the `Sunday People’ of Rod Stewart’s secret love child. On one occasion, while working for `The People’, he took an escaped gangster back to prison.

His first book, Smile Of The Stowaway, is one of four crime novels Tony has written over the past three years.  He has five grown-up children and eleven grandchildren.  He lives in South East London with his partner, Lin.

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