It’s the final day of my fantastic, Bewitching tour. For my piece de resistance, I’m over at Fangtastic Books with the lovely Roxanne Rhoads and a guest post featuring the paranormal partners of S.E.R.A.’s fairy godmothers from The S.E.R.A. Files Volume I. This is your very last chance to enter the giveaway on this tour, so what are you waiting for?!
On the second-last...yes it’s nearly over (sob!) day of my Bewitching Tour I’m at Pembroke Sinclair’s (what a fantastic name!) blog.
I’m at two stops today on my Bewitching Tour. At the first stop, I’m visiting Ms Snarky Mom where a few glasses of wine were had while we discussed effective ways to avoid our offspring - there was a post about The S.E.R.A. Files as well!
We tried to keep the snark going, but when you’re in agreement on beverages and children, it’s hard to avoid the good cheer. Plus, it’s almost Christmas.
My second stop is at Nicky Peacock’s blog, where she wrote a lovely review of The S.E.R.A. Files Volume I. Find out what she thought of the Scary Fairies...
Al Capone at the Blanche Hotel
by Linda Bennett Pennell
Genre: Historical fiction with romantic elements
Heat level: N/A
Al Capone at the Blanche Hotel tells a story of lives unfolding in different centuries, but linked and irrevocably altered by a series of murders in 1930.
Lake City, Florida, June, 1930: Al Capone checks in for an unusually long stay at the Blanche Hotel, a nice enough joint for an insignificant little whistle stop. The following night, young Jack Blevins witnesses a body being dumped heralding the summer of violence to come. One-by-one, people controlling county vice activities swing from KKK ropes. No moonshine distributor, gaming operator, or brothel madam, black or white, is safe from the Klan's self-righteous vigilantism. Jack's older sister Meg, a waitress at the Blanche, and her fiancé, a sheriff’s deputy, discover reasons to believe the lynchings are cover for a much larger ambition than simply ridding the county of vice. Someone, possibly backed by Capone, has secret plans for filling the voids created by the killings. But as the body count grows and crosses burn, they come to realize this knowledge may get all of them killed.
Gainesville, Florida, August, 2011: Liz Reams, an up and coming young academic specializing in the history of American crime, impulsively moves across the continent to follow a man who convinces her of his devotion yet refuses to say the three simple words I love you. Despite entreaties of friends and family, she is attracted to edginess and a certain type of glamour in her men, both living and historical. Her personal life is an emotional roller coaster, but her career options suddenly blossom beyond all expectation, creating a very different type of stress. To deal with it all, Liz loses herself in her professional passion, original research into the life and times of her favorite bad boy, Al Capone. What she discovers about 1930’s summer of violence, and herself in the process, leaves her reeling at first and then changed forever.
June 14, 1930
Jack jammed a finger into each ear and swallowed hard. Any other time, he wouldn’t even notice the stupid sound. The river always sorta slurped just before it pulled stuff underground.
His stomach heaved again. Maybe he shouldn’t look either, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the circling current. When the head slipped under the water, the toe end lifted up. Slowly the tarpaulin wrapped body, at least that’s what it sure looked like, went completely vertical. It bobbed around a few times and finally gurgled its way down the sinkhole. Then everything went quiet . . . peaceful . . . crazily normal. Crickets sawed away again. An ole granddaddy bullfrog croaked his lonesomeness into the sultry midnight air.
Crouched in the shelter of a large palmetto clump, Jack’s muscles quivered and sweat rolled into his eyes, but he remained stock-still. His heart hammered like he had just finished the fifty yard dash, but that was nothing to what Zeke was probably feeling. He was still just a little kid in lots of ways.
When creeping damp warmed the soles of Jack’s bare feet, he grimaced and glanced sideways. Zeke looked back with eyes the size of saucers and mouthed the words I’m sorry. Jack shook his head then wrinkled his nose as the odor of ammonia and damp earth drifted up. He’d always heard that fear produced its own peculiar odor, but nobody ever said how close you had to be to actually smell it. He prayed you had to be real close; otherwise, he and Zeke were in big trouble.
The stranger standing on the riverbank stared out over the water for so long Jack wondered if the man thought the body might suddenly come flying up out of the sinkhole and float back upriver against the current. Funny, the things that popped into your head when you were scared witless.
The man removed a rag from his pocket and mopped his face. He paused, looked upstream, then turned and stared into the surrounding forest. As his gaze swept over their hiding place, Jack held his breath and prayed, but he could feel Zeke’s chest rising and falling in ragged jerks so he slipped his hand onto Zeke’s arm. Under the gentle pressure of Jack’s fingers, Zeke’s muscles trembled and jumped beneath his soft ebony skin. When Zeke licked his lips and parted them like he was about to yell out, Jack clapped a hand over the open mouth and wrapped his other arm around Zeke’s upper body, pulling him close and holding him tight. Zeke’s heart pounded against the bib of his overalls like it might jump clean out of his chest.
With one final look ‘round at the river and forest, the stranger strode to the hand crank of a Model T. The engine caught momentarily, then spluttered and died. A stream of profanity split the quiet night. The crank handle jerked from its shaft and slammed back into place. More grinding and more swearing followed until the thing finally coughed to life for good and a car door slammed. Only then did Jack relax his hold on Zeke.
“I want outta here. I wanna go home,” Zeke whispered hoarsely.
Lucky Zeke. Before Meg left home to move into town, Jack would have felt the same way. Now he didn’t care if he ever went home.
Jack cocked an ear in the Ford’s direction. “Hush so I can listen. I think he’s gone, but we’re gonna belly crawl in the opposite direction just to be sure we ain’t seen.”
“Through that briar patch? I ain’t got on no shoes or shirt.”
“Me neither. Come on. Don’t be such a baby.”
“I ain’t no baby,” Zeke hissed as he scrambled after Jack.
When the pine forest thinned out, Jack raised up on his knees for a look around. Without a word, Zeke jumped to his feet and started toward the road. Jack grabbed a strap on Zeke’s overalls and snatched him back onto his bottom.
“You taken complete leave of your senses?” Wiping sweat out of his eyes, Jack pushed his shaggy blonde hair to one side. “Check it out before you go bustin’ into the open.”
“Why you so bossy all the time? I ain’t stupid, ya know. Just cause you turned twelve don’t make you all growed up.”
Zeke’s lower lip stuck out, trembling a little. Whether it was from fear or anger, Jack wasn’t sure. Probably both. Peering into the night, he strained for the flash of headlights. Nothing but bright moonlight illuminated the road’s deep white sand. Finally confident that no vehicles were abroad, he grabbed Zeke’s hand and pulled him to his feet. With one final glance left, then right, they leapt onto the single lane track and ran like the devil was on their tails.
Find Linda Bennett Pennell at the following links:
Facebook, Website, Twitter, Buy Link
Day 3 of my tour, and to celebrate I have 3 stops!
I’m dropping by Claire’s gorgeous blog today to offer a penny for her thoughts and find out the latest in nail polish and beauty products as well as featuring The S.E.R.A. Files Volume I, where I’m sharing snippets from each character’s point of view.
After a quick snack and cold drink, I’m over to Leanne’s blog to look up some of her random reviews (because you can never have too big a TBR pile!). I’ll be offering up some more tasty excerpts from the characters of The S.E.R.A. Files Vol 1.
Things get a little steamier (get a load of those gorgeous guys) over at my third stop for the day. What a way to finish off day three of the tour! There are the excerpts from The S.E.R.A. Files Vol I if you missed them at the last stop and there’ll be a naughty review from Ms Hotties (coming soon). Don’t forget to enter the giveaway!
Only one stop on today’s tour, but it’s with the lovely and delightful, Adrienne deWolfe. I know this excellent writer so I’m doubly thrilled to be able to share the inspiration that started The S.E.R.A. Files volumes and why I decided to start a fight between an angel and a Fairy Godmother.
First off, I’m doing an interview with Wenona. Check out the excellent recycled gift ideas on the site and don’t forget to enter the giveaway for an Amazon gift card or The S.E.R.A. Files!
Then I’ll be popping over to Amanda to say hello and offer another chance to enter my Bewitching virtual tour giveaway.
Despite being ill on the last part of my previous tour - I enjoyed it so much I’m doing another one!
Teaming up with Bewitching Tours and the lovely Roxanne Rhoads, we’re visiting some fantastic hosts and there are more giveaways - a chance to win an Amazon gift card and a digital copy of The S.E.R.A. Files Volume I. So jump on your broomsticks and join me for a whole ton of fun!
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C.T. Green likes to write paranormal and science fiction romance, stroke cats and drink chai lattes.