Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Meet The Tin Man

They who control the media
control how we perceive the world.

My second novel, a political thriller titled The Tin Man, will be released August 30 by Crushing Hearts & Black Butterfly Publishing.

Here's the blurb:

The last thing Alex Buchanan, the editor-in-chief of a formidable news site, expects as he looks around the newsroom at the bodies of his editors, is that he’ll soon be teaming up with The Ball Buster to solve the crime and stay alive. Well, maybe not the last thing. The last thing he expects is to fall for her or any other woman. Because he’s The Tin Man–a suit of armor without a heart.

Or so he believes…

The Ball Buster is his private nickname for Thea Hamilton, a smart, gutsy, and insecure investigative reporter for The New York News, America’s newspaper of record. They went out once years ago–an unmitigated disaster during which she jumped all over his case about smoking.

When events force them together, they embark on an emotion-charged, high-octane quest for the truth, ending up in bed, but also in the clutches of a sociopathic corporate raider. “Zeus” is obsessed with James Bond and owns a hardcore S & M club in an old fallout shelter. Is he the killer? And, if so, what’s his motive? What he hopes to gain by torturing the journalists is clearer: the proof they’ve uncovered of a corporate takeover scheme that threatens the future of democracy. And he’ll stop at nothing to get it.

Here's an excerpt:

Alex Buchanan, an ex-pat Scot
inspired by Gerard Butler
Buchanan was smoking out among the trees when he heard the gunshots. Turning toward the barn, he saw flames leaping from the roof. Dropping his cigarette, he charged from the underbrush like a bull, thinking only of Thea. Another shot shattered the darkness. He drew his Glock as he trundled across the field. The fire was spreading fast. He reached the barn, choking as he raced inside. The whole place was filled with white smoke.

“Thea!” he screamed, coughing violently. “Thea!”

He raced toward the stairs, grabbed the rail, hoisting himself up two rungs at a time. He frantically searched the loft, but found only her purse. Taking it with him, he stumbled back down.

“Thea! Thea! Where are you?”

Non-stop action and
real-world truths.

The smoke was so thick he couldn’t see a thing. He heard another crack. Outside. Shite, the assassins had found them. But where were they now. And where was she?

He groped his way through the cloud, gasping, choking, eyes stinging, until he found the car. Feeling his way around, he located the driver’s door, got in, and started the engine. He hit the gas. The Toyota lurched forward. He couldn’t see a fucking thing through the smoke. The car crashed through wood, jolting him. The air began to clear as he bounced across the field. The black sedan came into view, speeding toward the road. He eased off the gas, falling back to avoid being seen.

Thea Hamilton:
"What are you waiting for, Tiger?"
Fucking hell. He’d cocked up everything. Now, they had Thea, which was killing him. Anything he could do to save her would endanger her life. Assuming, of course, she was still alive. The possibility she might not be kicked him in the chest, but he reasoned it away. She had to be alive. It only made sense. If she was dead, why take her? He felt better, but not for long. If she was alive, there was a reason. And the only reason he could think of made his stomach turn.

Here's the trailer:

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Writing smexy paranormals with a Celtic twist. Blogging about good books.