Thursday, January 7, 2010

Nominated on the Pre-Editors and Editors polls

My book Scarlet Myst has been nominated on P&E under thriller novels. I would really appreciate your votes.

Read a review for this book...

Read an Excerpt-
Mysti knocked on the hard oak door leading to Malachi’s office. She always hated coming up here; it reminded her of her father’s office. He wouldn’t accept the fact his daughter preferred to strip rather than take his dirty money. Mysti, also known as Erin Caelan, was the illegitimate daughter of Robert Caelan and a prostitute named Lola. Robert was for all intents and purposes a business man, of sorts. The kind of business where you piss him off, you end up wearing cement shoes in the Tirade River. So it was only natural that Mysti would end up with the Scarlet Arms. As Malachi, the head of the Arms, had once noted, killing was in her blood as much as fucking was.
The Scarlet Arms was a brothel for the rich and wanna be rich of the city. Underneath that front was a hidden organization of assassins. The girls would kill their own grandmothers for enough money. Erin was pretty sure if her father knew that, then he’d feel different about her chosen profession. As far as her family and friends knew she worked for the Scarlet Kitty, a strip joint, which was also owned by the Arms.
From behind the door came a muffled greeting-- “Come in.”
Erin entered the office; it was one of the larger ones with a nice view of the river. Not that Erin wanted to see the city’s dumping pot on a daily basis, but it could be pretty at times. Almost everything in the office was wood. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with some of the rarest and most exotic books in the city. Malachi’s vice was books; he collected almost everything he could get his hands on, the older and mustier the better. Few of the girls knew that, or cared, as long as they got their check every week. Erin, on the other hand, made it a point to learn everything about the man she worked for. Call it being careful. Call it being paranoid. Call it being the daughter of a mobster. Call it whatever the hell you wanted, but she wasn’t going to end up at the bottom of the previously mentioned river because she chose the wrong Joe Shmoe to work for.
The chair in front of Malachi’s desk was a black leather number, and worn smooth from years of use. The person sitting in that chair caused Erin to stop dead in her tracks. Well she’d be damned. Bobby ‘the Pit Bull’ Caelan, her own darling daddy, smiled at her as she stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment. Since when did the Arms do business with the mob?
Finding her voice, she muttered, “So you’re just letting any one into the Arms now huh, Mal?”
Bobby looked at Malachi. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

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Thank you!
Jade Twilight
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