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Excerpt Reveal: My Three Dogs by W. Bruce Cameron

My Three DogsMy Three Dogs is a charming and heartfelt new novel from the #1 bestselling author of A Dog’s Purpose, about humankind’s best, most loyal friends, and a wonderful adventure of love and finding home.

When a tragic accident separates three dogs from their human, they find themselves up for adoption — separately. But Riggs, a dedicated, loyal Australian Shepherd, refuses to see his family torn apart. After the exuberant and fun-loving doodle Archie and quick-witted Jack Russell Luna are taken to new homes, Riggs’ powerful herding instincts send him on a journey to bring his pack back together again.

Cameron’s signature style shines in this whirlwind of a novel that showcases how determination, instinct, and love can make a family whole once more.

My Three Dogs will be available on October 29th, 2024. Please enjoy the following excerpt!


CHAPTER ONE

The morning air brought Archie the scent of freshly cut wood, a peculiar odor with which he had become very familiar over the past several weeks. Barely out of the puppy stage, the six- month-old Labradoodle was too young to really remember the snow from earlier in the year. For him, the strong Colorado sun had always warmed his brown fur and of late had even become a little uncomfortable. A thin tree nearby was struggling to fully leaf out and provided scant shade. He contemplated scratching at the dirt to try to excavate down to cooler soils, but felt too lethargic in that moment to move.

Archie didn’t like being alone and wished anyone or anything would come along to relieve the tedium, but today was much like the day before and the day before that. Sharp percussions punc- tured the stillness, but the dog was accustomed to the noise and didn’t so much as flick an ear. The man with a name that sounded to Archie like “Face” was doing something inside a structure sev- eral yards away. Other men were there, too, and handed long pieces of wood to each other and carried heavy tools and would sit and eat at least once in the middle of the day. They spoke to each other continuously, but rarely to Archie.

Archie was connected to a short chain that drew furrows in the soil when he dragged it over to his water bowl. Sometimes he drank without thirst as a way to relieve his boredom.

Archie yawned and stood up, shaking his curly fur. A fragment of memory came back to him. He’d been dreaming. His dream concerned the first man he had lived with, a man named Norton.

Norton was very friendly and played with Archie every day. Archie could still remember, though, the time when all the play ended. Norton had come and knelt and held Archie’s head in his hands, staring into his eyes. Something about that occasion had stilled Archie, and he ceased his puppylike capering and gazed back at Norton.

“I am going to be leaving you now, Archie. I’m so sorry,” Nor- ton had intoned solemnly. “I may not be coming back for a long time. You’ll be living with my brother, Damien. He’ll take good care of you. Okay, Archie?”

Archie had heard a question associated with his name, but had understood nothing else other than the odd, vague sense that something weighty and grave was happening. He wagged when Norton stood and embraced the man people called Face. “Take care,” Face said. And then Norton left, and Archie never saw him again. Instead, Archie went to live with Face.

Face was not much like Norton, though they carried similar odors. Human skin gave off a distinctive smell when frequently baked in the sun, and both men had darkly tanned faces and arms. But where Norton had laughed a lot and was very amused when Archie would pounce on tossed balls or thrown sticks, Face didn’t seem to have time or inclination for any games like that. He rarely spoke to Archie, but he did bring him every day to this place of banging wood and buzzing machines. When it rained, Archie lay in the resulting mud, and it clung to his snarled fur. When it was hot, like today, he sprawled out in the sun and panted.

With Norton, Archie had slept inside on a bed. With Face, Archie went home and was led into the backyard, where a chain very similar to the one he was wearing would be affixed to his collar, and then he would remain there overnight. This was the life of a dog, and Archie just accepted it.

Archie felt abandoned on the end of his chain. He could smell his own feces nearby. Norton always scooped up his leavings, but Face just left them lying there in the dirt. This was something else Archie had to accept.

He had gone back to lying down, yawning, not so much sleepy as just exhausted by the sheer inactivity, when his ears picked up the sound of a vehicle bumping its way up the short, rut- ted driveway to where all the other trucks were parked. Archie raised his head, curious. The vehicle stopped, and a cloud of dust pursued it and then overcame it, settling on the gleaming finish.

There was a creak, and a man stood up out of the truck, a man Archie had never smelled before. He took a couple of steps forward, his hands on his hips, watching Face and Face’s friends working. Then the new man turned and looked at Archie.

*      *      *

Riggs watched in irritation as Luna attacked yet another dog toy, a stuffed lamb with a missing ear. Luna went after the thing as if in a fight for her life. A five-year-old, quick-moving Jack Russell, she more than outmatched Riggs’s own energy. Australian shepherds are far from lazy dogs, but after six years of living with Liam, Riggs had become accustomed to a simple life of patiently waiting for their person to come home before going berserk. Luna, it seemed, simply couldn’t suppress the need to move.

Most days, after lying in her dog bed for a little bit, Luna would suddenly go at her toys, growling, jumping on them, even throwing them across the room and then racing after them as if the animals had assumed actual life and run away from her predatory pursuit.

Riggs was not sure why it bothered him that Luna played like this. There was a disorder to the whole thing, something that offended Riggs’s basic sensibilities. The toys were now scattered around on the rug as Luna gave up on the lamb and suddenly went after a small, brown, monkey-faced animal that had long ago lost its shape to dog teeth.

Luna kept glancing at Riggs as if trying to entice him into helping her with her assault. Riggs just watched, feeling his ir- ritation grow. He knew that when Liam came home, he would patiently round up the scattered dog toys and put them all back in the basket. Why didn’t Luna understand that the basket was where the stuffed animals belonged?

Just as abruptly as she had pounced, Luna decided to put an end to the mayhem. Abandoning the monkey, she ran and nimbly jumped on the sofa, ignoring Riggs’s glare.

Dogs were not supposed to be on the couch. This had been made very clear by both Liam and Sabrina. Though Sabrina had only been around for a few winter-summer cycles, she was as in charge as Liam as far as Riggs was concerned. If she didn’t want Luna on the couch, Luna should obey her. That was just good dog behavior.

From her raised position, Luna triumphantly surveyed the room. Her gaze managed to avoid meeting Riggs’s eyes. Then her attention became riveted on a stuffed cow that was lying like a corpse on a throw rug. Riggs knew what she was going to do before she did, watching the excitement spread through her muscular little body like an electric current. She tensed, lower- ing herself, and then, with a quick burst of speed, Luna dove off the couch and charged at the cow, her nails scrambling across the hardwood floor as she built momentum. When she pounced, her forward motion pushed both the rug and the stuffed cow under an easy chair. She turned and stared at Riggs in disbelief. What had just happened?

Riggs wasn’t sure why the stuffed cow was now under the chair, nor did he have much interest in what Luna proposed to do about it. It was her fault.

Riggs watched as Luna circled the chair, sniffing frantically at her prey. She tried lying down and shoving her face toward the stuffed animal. Her teeth fell just short of snagging one of the cow’s limbs. She circled a few more times, clearly frustrated. Riggs watched with his usual disapproval. What did Luna pro- pose to do? She kept snorting as she jammed her face as close to the cow as she could manage. Then she sat back, her eyes bright, cocking her head.

Was she now pondering how to tip over the chair? Riggs didn’t know but thought that even if the two of them worked together, they would find such a task physically impossible, and anyway, there was no way the two of them were going to work together. Riggs simply refused to participate in her silly games. Sabrina would be especially aggrieved if she came home to find the furniture upended.

Luna eased forward, put her front paws on the throw rug, and began digging at it, pulling it with her forelimbs. She pulled and heaved, tugging with her teeth.

It seemed pretty pointless, but then Riggs watched in aston- ishment as the rug came out from underneath the chair, pulling the stuffed cow with it.

When Luna jumped on the toy, she turned and faced Riggs in absolute triumph.

Unwilling to give her any satisfaction at all, Riggs looked away, put down his head, sighed, and closed his eyes. His senses told him they were a long way from having either Sabrina or Liam come home. Luna’s antics were just one of those things Riggs had to accept.

*      *      *

Archie saw exciting potential in everything, and the arrival of this new man was no exception. When their gazes locked, Archie wagged his tail vigorously, pawing a little bit at the air, indicating to this new person that he should know that the most fun dog anyone could ever imagine was straining right there at the end of this chain, ready to play, ready to chase balls, ready to go for car rides or do anything else any human could think of.

The man named Face walked out of the construction project, smacked his hands on his pants, and came forward with one hand extended. The new man reached out and shook it.

“You’re Liam?” Face asked.

The man nodded, glanced one more time at Archie, and then turned back to talk to Face. “I am. And you’re Face?” he asked tentatively.

Face nodded. “Name’s Damien Fascatti, but people just call me Face. Almost thought your call was a joke—who puts money down on a place sight unseen? But that’s your business.” He turned and gestured to the structure. “Well, there she is. Fram- ing’s just about done. Plumbing, electrical, everything’s ahead of schedule, if you can believe it. Got a good crew this time. Come on in. I’ll show you around.”

The two men moved toward the half-built structure, but be- fore stepping inside, the new man turned and locked eyes with Archie.

For some reason, Archie shivered.


Click below to pre-order your copy of My Three Dogs, available October 29th, 2024!

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Forge Thrillers To Get You in the Spirit for Spooky Season

Now that September is here, we’re sure you’ve started to see Halloween decor hit shelves in all the stores you frequent. Scary movies are popping up as “suggested for you” when you’re hunting for your next watch on Netflix. Food brands are releasing the spook-ified versions of your favorite treats. Your “for you page” is filling up with videos of content creators who are showing the latest trends for the upcoming spooky season. And we bet the wheels are already turning in your head as you gather ideas for what your Halloween costume will be this year! As the temperature begins to drop, the excitement for fall is on the rise. And we have a perfect list of books for you to dip into that will further get you in the mood for the arrival of spooky season! Check out these thrillers from Forge that are sure to send chills down your spine!


A Good Family by Matt Goldman

A Good Family

Katie Kuhlmann’s marriage is falling apart. But she has a secure job, her children are healthy, and her house, a new construction in the prestigious Country Club neighborhood of Edina, Minnesota, is beautiful. She can almost ignore the way her husband, Jack, has been acting–constantly checking his phone, not going to work, disappearing from the house only to show up again without explanation.

Tension in the Kuhlmann house only gets worse when Adam “Bagman” Ross, a mutual friend from college, happens to be in the neighborhood and in need of a place to stay. Jack is quick to welcome him into the sanctity of their home, but Jack’s strange behavior only gets worse, and Katie fears their new guest is also harboring a dark secret. As she begins to uncover the truth, she realizes that something is terribly wrong–and she must race to protect her family as danger closes in.

Devil’s Kitchen by Candice Fox

Devil's Kitchen

The firefighting crew of Engine 99 has spent years rushing fearlessly into the hot zone of major fires across New York City. This tight-knit, four person unit has faced danger head-on, saving countless lives and stopping raging fires before they can cause major destruction.

They’ve also stolen millions from banks, jewelry stores, and art galleries. Under the cover of saving the city, these men have used their knowledge and specialist equipment to become the most successful heist crew on the East Coast.

Andy Nearland, the newest member of Engine 99, is good at keeping secrets. She’s been brought on to help with their biggest job ever—hitting New York’s largest private storage facility, an expensive treasure trove for the rich and famous.

She’s also an undercover operative, charged with bringing the crew to justice.

Keeping Andy’s true motives hidden proves more and more dangerous as tempers flare and loyalties are tested. And as the clock counts down to the crew’s most daring heist yet, her cover might just go up in flames…

One Wrong Word by Hank Phillippi Ryan

One Wrong Word

One wrong word can ruin your life. And no one knows that better than savvy crisis management expert Arden Ward. Problem is, she’s now forced to handle a shocking crisis of her own. Unfairly accused of having an affair with a powerful client, Arden’s life and dreams are about to crash and burn. Then, Arden is given an ultimatum. She has just two weeks to save her career and her reputation.

Is Cordelia Bannister the answer to her prayers?

Cordelia needs Arden’s help for her husband Ned, a Boston real estate mogul. Though he was recently acquitted in a fatal drunk driving accident, his reputation is ruined, and the fallout is devastating not only to the Bannisters’ lives, but the lives of their two adorable children.

Arden devotes her skill and determination –and maybe her final days on the job–to helping this shattered family, but soon, revelations begin to emerge about what really happened the night of the accident. And then—another car crash throws Ned back into the spotlight.

This case is Arden’s final chance to protect her own future and clear her name. But the more she tries to untangle the truth, the more she’s haunted by one disturbing question—what if she’s also protecting a killer?

Gossip. Lies. Rumors. Words like that can hurt you. And Arden knows the reality. Sometimes one wrong word can kill.

Such a Lovely Family by Aggie Blum Thompson

Such a Lovely Family

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom in Washington, D.C., and the Calhouns are in the midst of hosting their annual party to celebrate the best of the spring season. With a house full of friends, neighbors, and their beloved three adult children, the Calhouns are expecting another picture-perfect event. But a brutal murder in the middle of the celebration transforms the yearly gathering into a homicide scene, and all the guests into suspects.

Behind their façade of perfection, the Calhoun family has been keeping some very dark secrets. Parents who use money and emotional manipulation to control their children. Two sons, one the black sheep who is desperate to outrun mistakes he’s made, and the other a new father, willing to risk everything to protect his child. And a daughter: an Instagram influencer who refuses to face the truth about the man she married.

As the investigation heats up, family tensions build, and alliances shift. Long-buried resentments surface, forcing the Calhouns to face their darkest secrets before it’s too late.

Deep Freeze by Michael C. Grumley

Deep Freeze

The accident came quickly. With no warning. In the dead of night, a precipitous plunge into a freezing river trapped everyone inside the bus. It was then that Army veteran John Reiff’s life came to an end. Extinguished in the sudden rush of frigid water.

There was no expectation of survival. None. Let alone waking up beneath blinding hospital lights. Struggling to move, or see, or even breathe. But the doctors assure him that everything is normal. That things will improve. And yet, he has a strange feeling that there’s something they’re not telling him.

As Reiff’s mind and body gradually recover, he becomes certain that the doctors are lying to him. One by one, puzzle pieces are slowly falling into place, and he soon realizes that things are not at all what they seem. Critical information is being kept from him. Secrets. Supposedly for his own good. But who is doing this? Why? And the most important question: can he keep himself alive long enough to uncover the truth?

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FALL-ing for Forge: Forge’s Fall Lineup!

With summer winding down, crisp autumn days are right around the corner. And that means we have some wonderful new books coming your way! It’s (almost) time to don your flannel shirts, order your pumpkin spice lattes, and snuggle up under a cozy blanket as you crack open all the books that’ll have you fall-ing for Forge!:


Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen

Rough Pages

Private Detective Evander “Andy” Mills has been drawn back to the Lavender House estate for a missing person case. Pat, the family butler, has been volunteering for a book service, one that specializes in mailing queer books to a carefully guarded list of subscribers. With bookseller Howard Salzberger gone suspiciously missing along with his address book, everyone on that list, including some of Andy’s closest friends, is now in danger.

Coming 10.1.24!

My Three Dogs by W. Bruce Cameron

My Three Dogs

My Three Dogs is a charming and heartfelt new novel from the #1 bestselling author of A Dog’s Purpose, about humankind’s best, most loyal friends, and a wonderful adventure of love and finding home. Cameron’s signature style shines in this whirlwind of a novel that showcases how determination, instinct, and love can make a family whole once more.

Coming 10.29.24!

Elmer Kelton’s The Familiar Stranger by Steve Kelton and John Bradshaw

Elmer Kelton's The Familiar Stranger

Elmer Kelton’s Hewey Calloway, one of the best-loved cowboys in all of Western fiction, returns in this novel of his middling years, as he looks for work—but not too much work—in 1904 West Texas.

Coming 12.3.24!

Now in Paperback:

The Murder of Andrew Johnson by Burt Solomon

The Murder of Andrew Johnson

The next John Hay historical thriller from award-winning political journalist Burt Solomon, this time focused on one of America’s most controversial presidents: Andrew Johnson.

Coming 9.10.24!

Valley of Refuge by John Teschner

Valley of Refuge

In this high-stakes, character-driven thriller, a Hawaiian family must decide the future of their ancestral land when a tech billionaire decides he wants it for himself, and won’t take no for an answer.

Coming 10.1.24!

Up on the Woof Top by Spencer Quinn

Up on the Woof Top

Chet the dog, “the most lovable narrator in all of crime fiction” (Boston Globe) and his human partner Bernie Little find themselves high in the mountains this holiday season to help Dame Ariadne Carlisle, a renowned author of bestselling Christmas mysteries, find Rudy, her lead reindeer and good luck charm, who has gone missing.

Coming 1o.22.24!

Dead West by Matt Goldman

Dead West

In the words of Lee Child on Gone to Dust, “I want more of Nils Shapiro.” New York Times-bestselling and Emmy Award-winning author Matt Goldman happily obliges by bringing the Minneapolis private detective back for another thrilling, standalone adventure in Dead West.

Coming 11.5.24!

Elmer Kelton’s The Unlikely Lawman Created by Elmer Kelton; Written by Steve Kelton

Elmer Kelton's The Unlikely Lawman

Elmer Kelton’s Hewey Calloway, one of the best-loved cowboys in all of Western fiction, returns in this novel of his middling years, as he looks for work—but not too much work—in 1904 West Texas.

Coming 11.5.24!

Deep Freeze by Michael C. Grumley

Deep Freeze

From the bestselling author of the Breakthrough series: In his next near-future thriller, Michael C. Grumley explores humanity’s thirst for immortality—at any cost…

“A fast-paced juggernaut of a story, where revelations pile upon revelations, building to a stunning conclusion that will leave readers clamoring for more.” —James Rollins, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Sigma Force series

Coming 11.19.24!

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Notes from K’wan on Passion for the Heist

Passion for the HeistA crime would bring them together, grief would bind them and love would make them famous.

Parish “Pain” Wells is a man freshly reintroduced to society, after serving time in state prison. Prior to his fall, Pain had been a heist man who showed the promise of someone who could go on to be a legend. His trajectory changed on the night he had made the mistake of accepting a ride from a friend, and found himself behind bars for the one crime he hadn’t committed. Several years later, Pain returns home to a world that wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire. The only one who still remains in his corner is his ailing grandmother. It’s for her sake that Pain tries to stay on the straight and narrow. He’s tired of breaking her heart and vows to be a good grandson, but when her medical bills start mounting he finds himself backed into a corner. He needs money, fast, and there’s only one way he knows how to get it.

Since her parents died and Passion Adams found herself a ward of her estranged uncle, a gangster who everyone calls Uncle Joe, her life has been on a constant downward spiral. She moves like a ghost from one day to the next, numbing her pain with drugs and alcohol, while seeking thrills in unsavory places. One morning Passion finds herself the victim of a robbery and the thieves snatch from her the only thing of value that she has left in the world, a locket containing the ashes of her deceased parents. Passion is devastated, fearing she would never see the locket again until it shows up later in the hands of a handsome stranger, who brings something into Passion’s life that has eluded her since the death of her parents… hope.

The two broken souls find themselves inescapably drawn into each other’s orbits, and begin their journey of finding lives outside the ones of poverty and sorrow that their worlds had condemned them to. But when shadows from both their pasts threaten their happiness, Passion and Pain set out on an adventure that would make them hunted by law enforcement and celebrated by the underworld. What initially starts out as a mission of vindication quickly turns into a fight for survival.

Read onwards to see K’wan’s notes on Passion for the Heist, including inspiration, what he’s currently loving, a playlist, and tips for aspiring writers!


by K’wan:

My Inspiration Behind Passion for the Heist:

The Inspiration behind Passion for the Heist? I don’t know if I can narrow it down to one thing, or instance, but it was Nina Simone who gave the book its soul. She has a song called “Black Bird,” which I love. I felt like the lyrics were articulating the story I was putting tougher. The character names (Pain, Lil Sorrow, Lonley, etc) were taken from the song. 

Five things I’m loving right now (outside of my family, obviously):

  1. House of The Dragon (though season 2 left me feeling incomplete)
  2. Discovering new authors. I’ve come across some hidden gems. 
  3. Getting back into cooking. I used to do it a lot and post the finished products on my socials, but I fell off for a time. 
  4. Screenwriting. It’s a welcome reset for my brain in between novels.
  5. Becoming more familiar with social media. I’ve always known how to do the basics, general posts and stuff, but technology has come a long way since the MySpace days. There’s a ton of different things I’ve found advantageous both in business and personally. I’m a junkie for learning about new things, so I’m kind of trying to catch up on that. 

Playlist:

I have a playlist for Passion that my readers can check out on my Apple music page, as I have playlists for a lot of my books. For Passion for the Heist, I’ll share the essentials: 

  • NY State of Mind by Nas
  • Shakey Dog by Ghostface
  • Black Bird by Nina Simone
  • Crash This Train by Joshua James
  • Come Join The Murder by The White Buffalo & The Forrest Rangers
  • Things Done Changed by Biggie
  • Gimmie the Loot by Biggie
  • Take it Back by Wu Tang
  • Dread Loc by Meshell Ndegeocello (that’s Passion’s theme)

Tips for aspiring writers:

To master anything, you must first be a student of it. Respect the craft. Writing isn’t a thing you do, it’s something you have to obsess over. Most importantly, always write from your heart and not what you think people want to read. 

My personal experiences are channeled in the stories, but using people, places and things I’ve encountered in life to give my character true souls—it’s what makes them real. I’ve walked a lot of these places I write about and have interacted with the people. Art should always imitate life.  


Click below to pre-order your copy of Passion for the Heist, available August 27th, 2024!

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Excerpt Reveal: Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen

Rough PagesSet in atmospheric 1950s San Francisco, Rough Pages asks who is allowed to tell their own stories, and how far would you go to seek out the truth.

Private Detective Evander “Andy” Mills has been drawn back to the Lavender House estate for a missing person case. Pat, the family butler, has been volunteering for a book service, one that specializes in mailing queer books to a carefully guarded list of subscribers. With bookseller Howard Salzberger gone suspiciously missing along with his address book, everyone on that list, including some of Andy’s closest friends, is now in danger.

A search of Howard’s bookstore reveals that someone wanted to stop him and his co-owner, Dorothea Lamb, from sending out their next book. The evidence points not just to the Feds, but to the Mafia, who would be happy to use the subscriber list for blackmail.

Andy has to maneuver through both the government and the criminal world, all while dealing with a nosy reporter who remembers him from his days as a police detective and wants to know why he’s no longer a cop. With his own secrets closing in on him, can Andy find the list before all the lives on it are at risk?

Rough Pages will be available on October 1st, 2024. Please enjoy the following excerpt!


CHAPTER ONE

“You ready for this?” Elsie asks. We’re standing over her car—a gold Jaguar convertible—both of us looking down at it like it’s a body laid out for viewing in church and not just sitting in the garage under her bar. “It’s been a while.”

“I wanted to give them some time without me,” I say. “I’m bad memories.”

There’s no body here, but if there were, we’d be bringing it back to life.

“Nine months is a longer time than some. I thought you were never going back, honestly,” she says, sliding over the door and into the driver’s seat, the pants of her sapphire-blue suit not even catching on the edge. I don’t tell her I never thought I would, either. I figured they’d be happier without me, that the invitations were just out of politeness. But now I need to return. Not for the family, though—something I can’t tell Elsie.

“I guess it’s just been long enough.” I try to get into the car like she did but my foot catches and I tumble in, my head landing in her lap. She bursts out laughing. That’s Elsie, she’s always laugh- ing. She makes for a good landlord in that way.

“Really don’t want to go, huh?” she asks, tucking her black bob behind her ears.

“Just my feet,” I say, righting myself. “The rest of me can’t wait.”

She smirks and pulls out fast, leaving the garage under the Ruby and heading out into San Francisco.

“I hope they don’t think of death when they see me.” I’m sur- prised when I say it. I hadn’t meant for that thought to escape my head.

She laughs in the wind like I’m being funny. Around us the buildings are rising up like the fingers of a closing fist, the sun low enough on the horizon the sky is going yellow.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she says. “They don’t remember you with death. That was Alice. She was the murderer. You were the one who caught her.” They—the whole family. The one Elsie is a part of, even if she doesn’t live there. I met them nine months ago, spring of ’52. A queer family out at a private estate, safe from the world, they thought, until one of them was murdered.

“I was there for one of the worst parts of their lives.”

“You helped them get through one of the worst parts of their lives,” she corrects. “And now you get to be there for some of the good ones. You earned that. They believe it, even if you don’t. I believe it.”

I don’t say anything. Maybe she’s right. It was my first case, the case that saved me, showed me what living a real queer life— even if a secret one behind closed gates—could look like. I found the murderer in their midst, saved the Lamontaine soap empire. But that meant dredging up a lot, picking at everyone’s lives, all while they were already in pain. I wouldn’t want to remember me, if I were them. And now they have a new baby—adopted by Henry and Margo to the outside world, who thinks they’re the couple. But really, adopted by all of them—Elsie, Margo’s girl- friend, and Cliff, Henry’s boyfriend, and Pearl, Henry’s mother, if not by blood. It’ll be a strange life for the baby, keeping that secret. If it doesn’t get out before she can talk.

Elsie reaches forward to turn on the radio. Eddie Fisher is crooning “Anytime.” Elsie starts singing along.

“For someone who runs so many musical acts,” I say, “people would think you have a better voice.”

“I don’t sing around people. Only friends. And how about you, big shot? You can identify any song from the first few notes, spend all your money on records, and I’ve never heard you sing.”

I blush. “I’m worse than you.”

“Sing with me,” she says. And what the hell, I do. We’re both terrible, howling over Eddie, as she drives us across the bridge and out of the city. We keep singing with the next song and the one after that, until I feel hoarse. Then I just watch the ocean go by on my right, the sun sinking into it like a copper penny thrown in a wishing well. I wonder how much they’ve all changed. I wonder if they all really want me there, or if it’s just Pearl again, extending an invitation for everyone without asking them.

And I wonder why Pat, the family butler and now my good friend, called me, and said he needed me to come, his voice a hushed whisper into the phone, scared, before he said not to tell anyone.

When Elsie pulls up to the gate, I get out to open it, and the smell of flowers hits me, familiar and comforting and sad all at once. Even in February, they bloom.

I was so worried about them being ready to see me, I realize I never wondered if I’m ready to see them. I pull the gate open, wait for Elsie to drive through, and close it again, making sure to lock it. The estate looks mostly the same. Flowers everywhere, glowing in the pink light of sunset. They sway toward me, and I don’t know if it’s a welcome or a warning. This is where my story started, after all. Well, my latest story. Lavender House, Pearl hiring me for my first case, meeting Elsie, becoming a PI over her gay club, starting to try to have a real life again. This was even the case I met Gene, my boyfriend, on. So much started here, and I’m grateful to it, but looking out on it, I wonder if this is somehow a bookend. If now it’s going to take back everything it gave me.

“Stop staring and get in,” Elsie says from the car. I follow her order and she drives us down to the roundabout. The house seems the same—a beautiful, huge art deco thing, surrounded by flow- ers of all colors, especially lavender. The driveway is white stones, which look silvery in the dark. The fountain at the center of the roundabout isn’t scorched anymore; they must have fixed that. It gleams and sprays arcs of water in every direction, like a flower. I never got to see it working before. It’s pretty. The sound of the water is peaceful.

Pearl comes out of the house first, her arms wide, a smile on her face. She looks the same: sixties, short, with short black hair, in a yellow blouse and white skirt.

“We finally got you here,” she says, hugging me before I’m even done getting out of the car. I glance up at the windows of the house. They’re curtained, but light shines through. No shad- ows standing in them this time.

“It’s good to see you,” I say.

“Elsie says you’re doing well, and I appreciated your Christmas letter,” she says. “But you should have come sooner.”
“I wanted to give you time, and then the baby—”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Andy.”

“He’s worried you’ll look at him and see death,” Elsie says, from the other side of the car.

Pearl’s face goes blank with shock for a moment, and I almost want to turn to Elsie, glaring, and tell her to take me back home. But then there’s a flicker of honesty, relief on Pearl’s face—yes, she does look at me and see death. After all, her wife died less than a year ago. She blinks, shakes her head.

“I see more than that, Andy.” She doesn’t lie, at least. “I see a new chapter for all of us. You included. And I see someone who looks like he hasn’t had a good meal in months. Elsie, what are you feeding him?”

“I don’t feed him,” Elsie says, headed to the door. “I just water him.”

Pearl throws her head back and cackles at that one.

“Well, come in, come in, come in . . .” She turns, waving me toward the door. Pat is standing there, waiting.

“Can I get a minute to say hi to Pat?” I ask, keeping a smile on. “I know he’s about to go help in the kitchen, so if this is my only moment . . .”

“He’ll be with us after dinner, he’s practically our nanny,” Pearl says as we walk to the door. Pat gives me a tight hug. “Oh, but sure, it would be rude if the first time he spoke to you he was serving you dinner.”

She goes inside, and Elsie follows, giving us a curious look. Then it’s Pat and me standing outside. The landing in front of the door has a beautiful art deco curve over it, and it casts both of us in shadow. Pat’s always been slender, but he seems thinner than before, his pale skin gaunt in the dark, his eyes wide. He’s in his fifties, but handsome, with high, delicate cheekbones and usually a wry smile. Not tonight, though.

“What’s going on?” I ask in a low voice.

“Thank god you’re here,” he says, barely a whisper, as he fum- bles in his pocket then takes out some cigarettes. I get out my case and light one for him before he drops them all on the ground.

“Pat? They’re going to be wondering.”

Pat was probably the first real welcome here. Pearl was kind, but she was hiring me for a job. Pat was honest—about my past, what people thought of me. He was sympathetic, and welcomed me despite everything; my being a cop until just a few days before meeting him, and my having been cold to him at the bars, cold to everyone in the community unless I wanted to be alone and naked with them. Hell, even then. Pat taking me under his wing was more than I deserved. He was funny, too, often singing and always smiling. That all seems gone now though, replaced with the kind of raw fear I’ve seen in the faces of clients before.

“You in trouble?” I ask.

“Maybe,” he says, looking at the ground, then at his cigarette. “But worse, if I am, then so is everyone in this house.”

“What?” I ask, my body cold.

He doesn’t say anything and instead inhales deeply on the cig- arette, then coughs. I realize I’ve never seen him smoke before. He coughs for a moment longer, while I wait. Finally, he looks at me.

“You know how I like to read,” he says, and I nod, thinking of his room upstairs, every wall a shelf filled with books, every table covered in them. “Well, on my day off, I usually help out at Walt’s, the bookshop up in North Beach.”

I shake my head; I don’t know it. “Help out?”

“The owners are gay. Howard and DeeDee, old old friends, both loved books, so they opened the place years ago. They stocked a lot of gay titles, so I got friendly with them, and last year they decided to start a book service, you know, sending members one book a month that’s hard to get otherwise, or maybe trying to publish some new ones themselves.”

“A book service?” I say, wondering how that could be so much trouble.

“There’s a publisher who’s been selling gay books through the mail for years, Greenberg. Sold over a hundred thousand cop- ies of The Invisible Glass. People want queer books, Andy. Don- ald Webster Cory, remember, who wrote The Homosexual in America—he started his own book service with the same idea, and so Howard and DeeDee thought, why not us, too? Just in Cal- ifornia, for people who came into the shop, people we knew . . . at first.”

“Isn’t Greenberg the one being sued by the post office? Looking at jail time, maybe.” The smoke curls from his cigarette, fading as it reaches out to the garden outside our little alcove, like it can’t escape.

Pat looks down at his hands again. “Yes. But that’s why it’s so important, Andy. These are our stories, and we need to read them, no matter what the government says. We need to read them so we know there are more of us out there, a community waiting. One guy wrote in, some college kid in Fresno, said he found a slip to sign up in a book in another store, and he signed up immediately. He’s never met another homosexual, and these stories are . . .” Pat dabs his eyes. “Howard wrote him back. He writes all of them back, so they don’t feel alone.”

I nod. “Okay. I get why this is important.” I’ve never been much of a reader, but maybe if I’d read more when I was on the force, I wouldn’t have felt quite so alone. “So what’s the danger?”

“The shop has been closed for at least a week and DeeDee and Howard haven’t been answering their phones, either. I went by on my day off, and no one was there. I’m worried. They hardly ever close this long, and never without telling me.” He takes an- other drag on the cigarette and looks at it as if he thought it would taste better.

“Maybe there was an emergency?” I ask.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m talking to you. I’m worried that the government found out, the post office told them, and . . . sending obscene material through the mail is a federal offense, right?” He lets the cigarette fall from his hand and it lands with a splatter of red embers. He stomps it out.

“Sure, but how would that be bad for you, or the family?”

He swallows and looks up at me. Pat is usually so filled with mirth and mischief, but now he looks truly scared. “Don’t you get it? We mail subscribers the books. That means we need . . . their names, addresses . . .” He turns away, steps out of the alcove down onto the roundabout. The stones crunch under his feet and the light from the house hits him, pale and yellow. I follow him down.

“There’s a list,” I say, realizing. “A list of homosexuals.” As we walk from the house, the smell of smoke fades and the flowers’ perfume becomes stronger, overwhelming.

Pat nods. “Hundreds. And I’m on it. And I mail the ‘illicit material,’ too. If the government finds out and decides to investigate . . .” He stares up at the sky.

“They could figure out everyone here. And then the adoption . . .” It hits me all at once. Adoption is tricky. The government investi- gates the families. The Lamontaines must have had to play pretend for a long time just for the adoption to go through. If the govern- ment finds out the family employs a homosexual, even if they pre- tend they didn’t know . . . I swallow.

He nods, looking back at the house and then walking along the side of it. There are bare trees here, with long, thin branches. I remember they bloomed pink, once. When we’ve reached the side of the house, he steps off the roundabout onto the grass and kicks it. “They’ll take her away. I’m so sorry, Andy. I just . . .” He looks down again and starts crying. I reach forward to put my hand on Pat’s shoulder.

“Okay, Pat. I’ll look into it. And if they do have the list, I’ll figure out how to make sure the family stays safe.”

He reaches out and clutches my hand tightly in his. “Thank you, Andy. I’m so scared. What if I’ve ruined everything?”

I don’t say anything. I don’t have the words to tell him that maybe he has.


Click below to pre-order your copy of Rough Pages, available October 1st, 2024!

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‘Forge’ Your Perfect Summer BBQ!

Nothing beats grabbing a book on a sunny day, settling in, cracking it open, and relaxing the day away by getting lost within the pages. It’s essentially the human equivalent of being a house-cat. But you know what would take your reading day over the top? If you had the perfect food and drink to pair with your sensational summer reads! We’ve got you covered there, cool cats. Read onwards to see what we suggest you match up with your summer reading list so that you can ‘forge’ your perfect summer BBQ!


Masquerade by O.O. Sangoyomi

Jollof Rice Recipe

What to Eat: Set in West Africa, we think a traditional West African cusiene would be most fitting. Jollof rice is a one-pot dish that originated in West Africa and is now popular across the continent. It’s made with rice, tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, chili peppers, garlic, ginger, and spices like cumin and paprika, and often served with grilled meats or fish.

zobo drink

What to Drink: Staying on theme, a popular West African beverage that would pair nicely here is Zobo: A drink made with hibiscus leaves, ginger, pineapple, and simple syrup that’s popular in Nigeria and throughout West Africa. This drink is especially fitting for the summertime, as it has a light, fruity, and refreshing flavor!

A Certain Kind of Starlight by Heather Webber

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What to Eat: Heather is the queen of sweet Southern charm, so it only makes sense for us to pair this magical book with a dessert! Plus this book features a family bakery, so reading it will definitely put you in the mood to eat something sweet! Take a look at this guest post written by author Heather Webber herself that outlines some delicious treats you can make to pair with this book! Might we suggest the strawberry shortcake? It’s a classic summer staple, and will truly hit the spot!

Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri Poured into a Stemless Wine Glass

What to Drink: A sweet read calls for a sweet drink (can you sense a general theme here?), so we think a frozen strawberry daiquiri would really be the icing on the cake.

Passion for the Heist by K’wan

Close up of a glass of passion fruit mousse.

What to Eat: As the title and one of the main character’s names suggests, something made with ‘passion’ would be best suited for this gripping book. This passion fruit mousse recipe is creamy, tangy, fresh, and a truly perfect treat to bring along to the summer BBQ!

Passion Fruit And Mint Cooler on a serving dish

What to Drink: Staying true to theme, we suggest pairing this book with a delicious passion fruit drink, such as this passion fruit and mint cooler. It’ll be super refreshing to sip on something like this to help you cool down as you lounge out the sweltering sun!

A Farewell to Arfs by Spencer Quinn

Hamburgers in a serving tray with fries

What to eat: Chet and Bernie, the best human and dog duo around, are big fans of eating at Burger Heaven. So we suggest you fire up the grill and make a burger for yourself to chow down on as you read this book!

Coca-Cola Soft Drink

What to drink: To pair with your burger, we feel an all-American classic Coca-Cola is the perfect way to go.

Desperation Reef by T. Jefferson Parker

Grilled Shrimp Tacos With Creamy Cilantro Sauce Recipe by Tasty

What to eat: This book centers around a big-wave surfing competition that takes place on the Pacific coastline, so we think seafood is definitely the way to go here! Try pairing it with this incredibly delicious grilled shrimp tacos with creamy cilantro sauce recipe. It’s zesty, tasty, and one of the best meals to make during the summertime.

Diced Pineapple, Pineapple Juice, Coco Lopez Coconut Cream, White Rum, Dark Rum.

What to Drink: Since this story largely centers around surfing, a sweet beach beverage is what you’ll want to pair with this thrilling read! And nothing screams ‘beach’ and ‘summer’ more than sipping on a delectable Piña Colada. This drink will truly put the ‘chill’ in ‘chilling by the ocean!’

Raw Dog by Jamie Loftus

Sensational Hot Dog Trio

What to Eat: We’d be completely remiss if we didn’t include Raw Dog on this list: the ultimate guide to hot dogs; a beloved staple food at summer BBQs across the Unites States in the summertime! It’s all within the name: Raw Dog is a book all about hot dogs, so obviously that’s the very food you need to pair with this book!

What to Drink: Hot dogs simply wouldn’t be the magnificent creations they are without the help of the condiments that compliment them. Many people have heated debates about what the best type of hot dog is (a New York dog, a Chicago dog, a Boston Dog; the list goes on!) but we think we can all agree on the fact that any superior hot dog is the one adorned with our favorite condiment sidekicks. So a fun (albeit unique) drink that features an actual condiment is the best option here! Try sippin’ on a pickle martini while you make your way through Raw Dog!

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TJ Klune’s Farewell to the Wolves

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brothersong

As the release of the final installment, Brothersong, draws near, beloved author TJ Klune reflects on the journey of his much-adored Green Creek series. Klune bids farewell to the characters and stories that have captured the hearts of readers worldwide. Join us as he shares his thoughts and emotions on concluding this remarkable saga, offering fans a heartfelt glimpse into the end of an era.

Read TJ Klune’s piece below, and make sure to pre-order your copy of Brothersong, coming 7/30/2024


by TJ Klune

Ten years ago, in 2014, I started to write a story about a place called Green Creek, and the people who called the town home. It wasn’t meant to be a paranormal fantasy book. Instead, I wanted to write a queer take on Romeo and Juliet about two families who were at odds with each other. And then I decided to make it about werewolves, for some reason. I don’t know. Just go with it.

Brothersong is the finale of a series that I did not expect to write when I first began Wolfsong a decade ago. But the more I spent time with these characters, the more I learned about them, the more I wanted to stay in that world. Yes, it meant breaking hearts and piling angst on top of angst and yet, I knew the characters could handle it, so long as they had each other.

After all, isn’t that true to life?

Through Wolfsong and then Ravensong and Heartsong, I got to do something very cool: I was able to follow the same characters for literal years of their lives. Think about it: when Wolfsong opens, Ox Matheson is just a boy. By the time the series finishes, he’s a man in his thirties. I watched him grow up, make mistakes and learn from them, become the man I always knew he’d be. It was and remains a unique experience in my writing. I’ve never written such an extended period of time involving specific characters before. It taught me a lot. It also made me want to bang my head against the nearest hard surface every now and then.

And look, I know that people want more of these characters. They want to see what happens after the final page. To be honest, I’ve considered it. I’ve thought about writing another book or three in this series, but something has always stopped me. To write more in this world would mean putting the Bennett pack through more shit, and I have to wonder: when is enough enough? Undoubtedly, I could spin some tale about the aftermath of the first four books, and what it looks like when the wolf world attempts to move on from kings and queens.

Let’s nip this in the bud right here, shall we? I won’t write another book in this series. I’ve told the story I wanted to tell. Each book has its own meaning, its own purpose, while the overarching story plays out by the very end. I tied up most of the threads I thought needed to be tied up, and the ones that aren’t, well. I think it’s always good to leave a bit of mystery behind.

I have favorite parts of each book. I love Wolfsong because it allowed me to try a different type of way to tell a story. I love Ravensong because having two jerks in their forties get a second chance at life and love is so, so important. I love Heartsong because of how much it messed with the perception readers had of the series.

And I love Brothersong because of Carter and Gavin. Carter, who showed he had limitless depth to his heart and soul. Gavin, who fought the monster within to try and find his place in the world. Isn’t that just so human of them? Regardless of whatever else they are, those two (and all the others) are so wonderfully and heartbreakingly human. And even more, they act like people do: the good, the bad, and the ugly. How many times did you want to scream at the characters for the decisions they made? A few times? A dozen times? Isn’t that life?

I thought my time with Green Creek was over. And then Tor came knocking, and the books found new life, new readers, new people to cry over those fuckin’ werewolves. Many of you did it on public transportation—which, you know, is a choice. You think I’m joking, but I’m not. Out of everything I’ve written, I’ve heard from more readers about this series when they chose to read it on a bus or a train or a taxi or a plane. Why do you like sobbing in public?!? (That is not kinkshaming.)

Thank you. Thank you for loving these characters as much as I do. Thank you for inviting them in, going on a journey with them, and feeling as protective of them as I do. It’s funny: I never expected these books to go as far as they have. If you’d have told me in 2014 that ten years on I’d be gearing up for the last book to come out (again), I’d have thought you out of your mind. I’m very lucky to do what I do. And any success I’ve had is in no small part due to the readers who go on these adventures with me. One last time, shall we? One last time into Green Creek (and the world beyond). One last time to see the pack come together to protect their home from forces that would take everything from them. I have a feeling they’re about to kick some major ass.

packpackpack

Check out The Green Creek Series and pre-order the new hardcover edition of Brothersong—available on July 30, 2024!

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5 Forge Books That’ll Cool You Down in this Summer Heat!

As temperatures hit record highs across the globe this summer, everyone is searching for ways to cool off. Whether you’re camping out in front of the A/C or sipping chilled drinks by the pool, Forge has the perfect summer lineup to help you beat the heat. If you’re searching for stories that will send shivers down your spine on the hottest days, here is a list of refreshing books you should add to your TBR!


DESPERATION REEF by T. Jefferson Parker

Desperation Reef

Jen Stonebreaker hasn’t entered into a big-wave surfing competition since witnessing her husband’s tragic death twenty-five years ago at the Monsters of the Mavericks. Now, Jen is ready to tackle those same Monsters with her twin sons Casey and Brock, who have become competitive surfers in a perilous sport.

When he’s not riding waves, modeling for surfing magazines, or posting viral content for his many fans, Casey Stonebreaker spends his days helping with the family restaurant — catching fish in the morning and bartending at night. Casey’s love for the ocean and his willingness to expose illegal poachers on his platforms puts him on a collision course with a crime syndicate eager to destroy anyone threatening their business.

Outspoken Brock Stonebreaker couldn’t be more different from his twin. The founder of Breath of Life, a church and rescue mission that assists with natural disasters that no one else will touch, Brock has lived an adventurous and sometimes violent life. Not everyone appreciates the work that Brock’s Breath of Life mission accomplishes, and threats to destroy his mission—and his family—swirl around him.

As the big-wave contest draws closer, a huge, late fall swell is headed toward the Pacific coastline. Jen’s fears gnaw at her — fear for herself, for her sons, for what this competition will mean for the rest of her life.

DEEP FREEZE by Michael C. Grumley

Deep Freeze

The accident came quickly. With no warning. In the dead of night, a precipitous plunge into a freezing river trapped everyone inside the bus. It was then that Army veteran John Reiff’s life came to an end. Extinguished in the sudden rush of frigid water.

There was no expectation of survival. None. Let alone waking up beneath blinding hospital lights. Struggling to move, or see, or even breathe. But the doctors assure him that everything is normal. That things will improve. And yet, he has a strange feeling that there’s something they’re not telling him.

As Reiff’s mind and body gradually recover, he becomes certain that the doctors are lying to him. One by one, puzzle pieces are slowly falling into place, and he soon realizes that things are not at all what they seem. Critical information is being kept from him. Secrets. Supposedly for his own good. But who is doing this? Why? And the most important question: can he keep himself alive long enough to uncover the truth?

BROKEN ICE by Matt Goldman

Broken Ice

Nils Shapiro has been hired to find missing Linnea Engstrom, a teenager from the small northern hockey town of Warroad, MN. Most of Warroad is in Minneapolis for the state high school hockey tournament, and Linnea never returned from last night’s game. Linnea’s friend Haley Housch is also missing—and soon found dead.

Shot through the arm with an arrow at the Haley Housch crime scene, only the quick work of medical examiner Char Northagen saves Nil’s life.

Nils should be in the hospital recovering from his near fatal injury, but he knows that the clock is ticking. Linnea could be anywhere, and someone doesn’t want her found. Is Linnea a victim, or is she playing a dangerous game? As bodies start piling up, the clues lead Nils and Ellegaard north to Warroad, a small, quiet town with many secrets to hide.

A BATHROOM BOOK FOR PEOPLE NOT POOPING OR PEEING BUT USING THE BATHROOM AS AN ESCAPE by Joe Pera and Joe Bennett

A Bathroom Book for People Not Pooping or Peeing but Using the Bathroom as an Escape

Joe Pera goes to the bathroom a lot. And his friend, Joe Bennett, does too. They both have small bladders but more often it’s just to get a moment of quiet, a break from work, or because it’s the only way they know how to politely end conversations.

So they created a functional meditative guide to help people who suffer from social anxiety and deal with it in this very particular way. Although, it’s a comedic book, the goal is to help these readers:

  1. Relax
  2. Recharge
  3. Rejoin the world outside of the bathroom

It’s also fun entertainment for people simply hiding in the bathroom to avoid doing work.

A Bathroom Book for People Not Pooping or Peeing But Using the Bathroom as an Escape will be waiting in the bathroom like a beacon for anxious readers looking to feel calm, confident, and less alone.

DECEMBER ‘41 by William Martin

December '41

On the day after Pearl Harbor, shocked Americans gather around their radios to hear Franklin Roosevelt declare war. In Los Angeles, a German agent named Martin Browning is planning to kill FDR on the night he lights the National Christmas Tree. Who will stop him? Relentless FBI Agent Frank Carter? Kevin Cusack, a Hollywood script reader who also spies on the German Bund of Los Angeles, and becomes a suspect himself? Or Vivian Hopewell, the aspiring actress who signs on to play Martin Browning’s wife and cannot help but fall in love with him?

The clock is ticking. The tracks are laid. The train of narrow escapes, mistaken identities, and shocking deaths is right on schedule. It’s a thrilling ride that will sweep you from the back lots of Hollywood to the speeding Super Chief to that solemn Christmas Eve, when twenty thousand people gather on the South Lawn of the White House and the lives of Franklin Roosevelt and his surprise guest, Winston Churchill, hang in the balance.

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Excerpt Reveal: Passion for the Heist by K’wan

Passion for the HeistA crime would bring them together, grief would bind them and love would make them famous.

Parish “Pain” Wells is a man freshly reintroduced to society, after serving time in state prison. Prior to his fall, Pain had been a heist man who showed the promise of someone who could go on to be a legend. His trajectory changed on the night he had made the mistake of accepting a ride from a friend, and found himself behind bars for the one crime he hadn’t committed. Several years later, Pain returns home to a world that wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire. The only one who still remains in his corner is his ailing grandmother. It’s for her sake that Pain tries to stay on the straight and narrow. He’s tired of breaking her heart and vows to be a good grandson, but when her medical bills start mounting he finds himself backed into a corner. He needs money, fast, and there’s only one way he knows how to get it.

Since her parents died and Passion Adams found herself a ward of her estranged uncle, a gangster who everyone calls Uncle Joe, her life has been on a constant downward spiral. She moves like a ghost from one day to the next, numbing her pain with drugs and alcohol, while seeking thrills in unsavory places. One morning Passion finds herself the victim of a robbery and the thieves snatch from her the only thing of value that she has left in the world, a locket containing the ashes of her deceased parents. Passion is devastated, fearing she would never see the locket again until it shows up later in the hands of a handsome stranger, who brings something into Passion’s life that has eluded her since the death of her parents… hope.

The two broken souls find themselves inescapably drawn into each other’s orbits, and begin their journey of finding lives outside the ones of poverty and sorrow that their worlds had condemned them to. But when shadows from both their pasts threaten their happiness, Passion and Pain set out on an adventure that would make them hunted by law enforcement and celebrated by the underworld. What initially starts out as a mission of vindication quickly turns into a fight for survival.

Passion for the Heist will be available on August 27th, 2024. Please enjoy the following excerpt!


CHAPTER ONE

Percy Wells, known to those who had found themselves on the wrong end of his skill set as Pain, was no stranger to violence. In fact, his earliest memories of life had been born of violence. One that stood out to him was when his father had laid his mother out with a short right hook. Seeing his father lay hands on his mother wasn’t an unusual thing. The few times he could ever remember his father sparing enough time to come around his mother, they were either fighting, getting high, or fucking. Sometimes all three in one visit.

Pain would’ve been lying if he told you that he could remember what had prompted his father to strike his mother that particular time. What made this situation remarkable was the speed of the strike and the amount of blood it drew. It was akin to watching a rattlesnake tag an unsuspecting rodent. The gash opened by the punch was a small one, but it bled like his father had hit an artery in his mother’s head. That day was one of only three or four times Pain could remember ever seeing the man who creamed in his mother and passed on not only his name, but the generational curse he carried. Pain was born into and had lived with violence all his life, but none of it was quite like what he currently found himself in the middle of.

There were over a dozen men clustered into the common area shared by the unit of the prison Pain had occupied for the last eight months of his four-year stretch. He used the word occupied instead of resided because the latter would’ve implied he could even fathom the thought of ever looking at prison as somewhere he’d gotten comfortable enough to make a home of. As far as he was concerned the few correctional facilities he’d passed through during his bid were simply temporary stops on the road he found himself on. Now that he’d traveled it once, he knew where the potholes were and would be able to avoid them if, God forbid, he ever had the misfortune of coming that way again.

Fists flew while homemade blades flashed in the dim yellow lights that hung from the ceiling of the unit. A good portion of the men who were in the common area that day were engaged in a hellish battle that teetered along the lines of becoming a riot, had the numbers been greater. Those who weren’t getting into it did their best to try and avoid being mistaken for an enemy of one of the opposing sides and attacked by accident, or try to keep from being splashed by the blood that seemed to be flying everywhere. It was no easy task for the neutral parties because as far as the active combatants were concerned, anybody that wasn’t on one of their sides was fair game. When the stakes you were playing for were life and death, there were no gray areas.

To Pain’s right, a man yowled. Pain turned in time to see his belly being ripped open with a jagged screwdriver that was wielded by another inmate. The wails of the wounded were deafening in his ears, and twice he almost slipped in the blood that was rapidly coating the floors. If he had to describe the situation in a word it would’ve been chaos. What made it worse was that this was a chaos of his own making. Pain had been the match that ignited this powder keg.

A shadow descended over Pain, cast by a man who stood around six-five with a body mass that easily tipped the scales at three hundred pounds. His ugly face was one that was familiar to Pain. He had never bothered to learn the man’s Christian name, but he was known to inmates and guards alike as Brute. The moniker spoke to his character because for all intents and purposes that’s just what he was, a brute. In every facility he’d been a guest of, he survived by preying on both the weak and the strong. He wasn’t particular about whose food he ate, so long as he went to bed full every night. In Brute’s hand was a length of shaved pipe that had been pried from a bathroom sink, flattened on one end and sharpened to a razor’s edge. The homemade weapon dripped with the blood of the inmates Brute had carved through during the battle to be granted a private audience with Pain. The men who he had cut down were little more than collateral damage, but his beef with Pain was personal. The hateful glare Brute leveled at him said as much.

Had it been a movie this would’ve been the part where the hero and villain exchange some well-scripted banter about what had brought them to that point, but this wasn’t an action film. It was real life. There were only five words spoken, all by Brute, but they carried the weight of everything that was going on around them: “You owe me a kiss.” Then it was lit!

Brute moved with a speed that should’ve been impossible for a man his size. Pain barely avoided the strike from the pipe/spear that was thrust at his face. The blow had been meant to blind him, but missed its mark. A coolness settled in Pain’s cheek, just below his left eye. Then the burning kicked in. Pain knew that he was cut, but didn’t have the chance to assess the damage before Brute was back at him. This time he went for Pain’s gut in an attempt to impale him. The spear met with some resistance when it contacted the body armor under Pain’s shirt. The armor was comprised of nothing more than duct tape and the jackets of a few hardcover books Pain had stolen from the prison library. The book covers kept Brute’s spear from emptying Pain’s insides, but didn’t stop the point from piercing the fat of Pain’s stomach.

Brute smirked triumphantly before driving his weight at Pain, forcing him against the nearest wall. The more pressure he applied, the deeper Pain could feel the spear pushing into his gut. There was no question that he was about to become another notch on Brute’s belt. As his wound leaked, his life began to flash before his eyes. He thought of all the things he had done, as well as the things he would never do and the people he would never see again. His eyes latched onto an image of his grandma reaching out to him. He’d never have a chance to thank her for all she’d done for him. No . . . he couldn’t go out . . . not like this.

As if by an act of sorcery, a weapon appeared in Pain’s hand. It was a bedspring that had been hammered as straight as it could be and sharpened into a needle-like point. The end was wrapped in toilet tissue and held to the spring by layers of heavy tape, which allowed a more secure grip. Pain studied it for a brief moment as if trying to figure out what it was and where it had come from. Then the homemade weapon spoke a single word that would make everything clear to Pain: Live.

Moving as if animated by some unseen force, Pain raised his hand and drove the bedspring into Brute’s neck. The bigger man paused as if trying to determine if he had just been stung by a bee or a mosquito. Pain didn’t leave him long to wonder. He ripped the coil from Brute’s neck and hit him again. This time it was in the forearm, which got him to slacken his grip on the spear. Pain ignored the fire in his belly and cheek and went into survival mode. He hit Brute over and over with the coil, striking him in the face, chest, arms, whichever parts of his body he could get to. Brute was so flustered he abandoned his spear and rushed at Pain. He managed to grab Pain around the throat and began choking him, sending them both falling to the ground. The whole way down, Pain kept hitting him with the bed spring. There was so much blood that there was no way of telling where Pain’s injuries began and Brute’s ended.

He couldn’t remember how it had happened, but somehow Pain found himself on top of Brute, straddling his chest. Fighting was going on all around him, but Pain shut it out. His focus was locked on Brute. The big man’s once-white T-shirt was now stained deep red. He was bleeding from the wounds gifted him. Brute was broken and probably not long for the world unless he received immediate medical attention. The king of the cellblock had finally been dethroned. It was done.

There was a moment of hesitation on Pain’s part until his eyes met Brute’s. Even on the threshold of death, there was still defiance in his predatory glare. Pain’s brain was suddenly flooded with the memories of the injustices he and so many others had suffered at the hands of the bully. There was only one way to purge his brand of evil from the world. Pain raised the hand holding the bed coil, poised for the killing blow, and struck with everything he had. Had his blow rung true it would’ve punctured Brute’s brain and ended him for all time, but this was not to be.

An unseen hand grabbed Pain by the wrist and pulled him from the giant just before the blade contacted his skull. Pain landed on his back and before he could right himself, the body of a fallen combatant landed on top of him. This was followed by another and then another and so on, to the point where Pain found himself trapped under the weight of the men. It was suddenly very hard to breathe, and for a time Pain experienced what it must’ve felt like to drown. Only he wasn’t drowning in water, but in blood. There was a sliver of light at the end of the dark tunnel of flesh that he was trapped in. An outstretched hand beckoned to him. Without thought, Pain grabbed the hand and held on for dear life. Slowly, he found himself being pulled free, and when he broke the surface of bodies he inhaled the precious life-giving air. Pain was thankful to whichever angel of mercy had pulled him free and was about to tell him as much, when he found himself pulled into a reverse choke hold. He struggled but could not budge the muscular arm that was crushing his windpipe. With some effort he managed to turn his head enough to get a glimpse of whomever was strangling him. Who he saw was no angel of mercy, but a demon.

Brute stood behind him wearing a sinister grin and flashing a mouth full of bloodied teeth. He leaned in and pressed his blood- stained cheek against Pain’s, his breath hot and foul. He ran his course tongue over Pain’s ear before whispering into it: “Now, about that kiss.”

*   *   *

Pain was awakened by the sounds of his own screams ringing in his ears. He instinctively leapt to his feet, ready to continue the fight for life or death that he had been locked in. Yet when he looked around he didn’t find Brute, as he was expecting, but an older man wearing a bus driver’s uniform.

“Take it easy, buddy. I was just trying to tell you that this was the last stop.” The bus driver finally found his voice. He was no longer touching Pain’s arm, and had moved himself to a safer distance.

The words came out like gibberish to Pain, as the sleep fog was only slowly rolling back from his brain, but his survival instincts were moving much faster. Near-feral eyes flashed to a point just beyond the bus driver. A woman had paused in her exiting of the bus to see what would become of the crazed man in the back seat. She wasn’t alone. There were at least a dozen pairs of eyes on him with looks that ranged from confusion to fear. Two young girls seated near the front of the bus were even recording him with their camera phones while trading snickers. Pain felt like an animal on display.

“Did you hear what I said?” the bus driver asked calmly.

Pain didn’t answer right away. He was still half expecting the mirage of being on a bus to fade and to discover that he was still behind the wall. His gaze went beyond the bus driver and focused on the road-stained windshield of the bus. Just outside, above the thickening traffic, the sun was just rising over a skyline that Pain knew all too well. “No more locked doors,” was all Pain offered in way of a response.

Pain brushed past the startled driver and through the gawking people toward the exit. He almost twisted his ankle and fell in his haste to get off the bus. The smells and sounds of the hectic city seemed to assault him all at once, making him feel like he was suffering from sensory overload. He had been caged so long that feeling the cool predawn air on his face felt like an extension of the nightmare he had been having on the bus. “No more locked doors,” he repeated like a mantra. When Pain looked up and saw the night sky had begun to fade, and the sun was just about to announce its presence, he felt his eyes moisten in joy. It wasn’t a nightmare, but a dream. After years of incarceration, Pain was really home.


Click below to pre-order your copy of Passion for the Heist, available August 27th, 2024!

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Music, Sound, the Chet and Bernie Playlist, and A Farewell to Arfs by Spencer Quinn

A Farewell to ArfsSpencer Quinn’s A Farewell to Arfs ups the ante in the action-packed and witty New York Times and USA Today bestselling series that Stephen King calls “without a doubt the most original mystery series currently available.”

Chet the dog, “the most lovable narrator in all of crime fiction” (Boston Globe) and his human partner PI Bernie Little are on to a new case, and this time they’re entangled in a web of crime unlike anything they’ve ever seen before.

Their elderly next door neighbor, Mr. Parsons, thought he was doing the right thing by loaning his ne’er do well son, Billy, some money to help get himself settled. But soon, Mr. Parsons discovers that his entire life savings is gone. A run-of-the-mill scam? Bernie isn’t so sure that the case is that simple, but it’s Chet who senses what they’re really up against.

Only Billy knows the truth, but he’s disappeared. Can Chet and Bernie track him down before it’s too late? Someone else is also in the hunt, an enemy with a mysterious, cutting-edge power who will test Chet and Bernie to their limit—or maybe beyond. Even poker, not the kind of game they’re good at, plays a role.

Read onwards to see the incredible playlist you can jam out to while reading Spencer Quinn’s upcoming novel, A Farewell to Arfs!


By Spencer Quinn (Peter Abrahams):

Music, Sound, the Chet and Bernie Playlist, and A Farewell to Arfs

We seem to be in an era of scams—in our personal lives and perhaps in other societal regions. When it comes to personal scams there’s a new development, namely the use of artificial intelligence to replicate the voice of, say, a relative in trouble. AI is already good at this and of course getting better all the time. Okay. That’s by way of background. The Chet and Bernie mystery series is narrated by Chet, partner of Bernie, the private eye. Chet’s a dog. But not a talking dog! He’s as purely canine as I can make him. That makes him an unreliable narrator in some ways—alright, many—but a super-reliable narrator in others. One of those super-reliable categories is sound. Anyone who knows dogs knows they hear like we do not, both better and more richly. Therefore sound—and smell, of course—play a much bigger role in the Chet and Bernie series than they do in most other fiction. Which is part of the fun!

But forget fun. One day I was out on my bike ride, my mind wandering aimlessly—maybe its go-to state—when I suddenly thought: would Chet be fooled by an AI replicated voice? AI is built on human input, oceans of it. Chet swims in different waters. Aha, I thought to myself. And that was the genesis of A Farewell to Arfs, the new Chet and Bernie novel in a series designed—with no help from AI—to be read in any order.

If there was a totem pole of human sound, music would be at the top, in my opinion. Bernie is a music lover, given to singing—usually when he and Chet are alone, although also sometimes at parties when he’s had perhaps one too many. Three songs are mentioned in A Farewell to Arfs: “Death Don’t Have No Mercy” by Rev. Gary Davis; “God Walks These Dark Hills” by Iris Dement; and “If You Were Mine” by Billie Holiday. That last one is Chet’s favorite on account of Roy Eldridge’s dazzling trumpet solo that closes it out, the trumpet doing special things to Chet’s ears. Here’s a little snippet about that from A Farewell to Arfs. Chet and Bernie are watching Bernie’s son Charlie’s soccer practice. Charlie’s friend Esmé is also on the team. Malachi is her dad and he and Bernie have met before—at a Christmas party of which Bernie has only vague memories.

“You played Roy Eldridge’s trumpet solo from ‘If You Were Mine’?” Bernie said.

“At your request,” Malachi said. “And you handled Billie Holiday’s vocal.”

“Good grief,” said Bernie, meaning he must have forgotten how well he’d done. “But you played great, if I remember.”

“Not disgraceful,” Malachi said. “For an amateur. I’ve got no illusions about that. But I’ve always loved music. Not to sound too pompous—one of my failings, recently pointed out by Esmé but my wife agreed immediately—it’s my belief that music reveals the beauty of math even to folks who hate it.”

Bernie thought that over. “Esmé was saying something about this. You’re a mathematician?”

“Applied,” said Malachi, losing me completely, although I was already there.

Speaking of music, a Chet and Bernie fan named Mike Farley has compiled a Spotify playlist composed mostly of songs from the series. I’m so grateful for that, and for the high level of engagement readers seem to have with C&B. Here’s Mike’s Spotify list, the annotations all his:

Chet and Bernie Tribute – MikeF126, V1.

  1. If You Were Mine,” Billie Holiday. Roy Eldridge on trumpet
  2. Rock the Casbah”– Remastered.” The Clash
  3. In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” – Single [short] Version,” Iron Butterfly
  4. Death Don’t Have No Mercy’” Rev. Gary Davis
  5. The Sky Is Crying,” Elmore James
  6. Sway-2009 Mix,” The Rolling Stones
  7. It Hurts Me Too,” Elmore James, Chief Records version
  8. Lonesome 77203,” Billy Don Burns
  9. Done Somebody Wrong,” Elmore James
  10. Can’t Cash My Checks.” Jamey Johnson
  11. Sea of Heartbreak,” Jimmy Buffet/George Strait version
  12. Metal Firecracker,” Lucinda Williams
  13. Chain of Fools,” Aretha Franklin
  14. Song for Chet,” Peter Abrahams, Mitch Watkins, Gene Elders, et al
  15. Surfin’ USA,” The Beach Boys
  16. Pontiac Blues – Live.” Sonny Boy Williamson and The Yardbirds

Enjoy!


Click below to pre-order your copy of A Farewell to Arfs, available August 6th, 2024!

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