Fourteen million dollars in a burned suitcase. Severed body parts of a dead man in a duffel bag. Two hired killers. A drug dealer. Two organized crime kingpins; all chasing two white trash kids from New York down to the deep south as they head for what they think will be safety in Mexico. Put the story together and you have one hell of a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde. Adult content. Sex and violence. FIVE-STAR READERS FAVORITE CHOICE AWARD REVIEW –
The air in the chauffeured SUV hummed with a manufactured excitement, a brittle façade over the collective exhaustion of four men who navigated the concrete canyons of Manhattan. Their lives were a relentless sprint: early mornings fueled by designer coffee, late nights drowning in spreadsheets and legal briefs, the constant thrum of ambition and the gnawing pressure to perform. The city, once a symbol of their success, had become a gilded cage, its relentless energy draining them, its superficial connections leaving them hollow. They craved an escape, not a vacation, but a retreat. A deliberate shedding of the suits.
The destination: the Southern Tier of Upstate New York, a region whispered about in hushed tones by those who sought true solitude, far from the manicured trails and well-trodden paths of more popular wilderness areas. Mike had painted a picture of untamed forests, pristine lakes, and a silence so profound it would be deafening after the ceaseless roar of the city. He’d spoken of challenging hikes, of wrestling with the elements, of building fires with their own hands, of sharing stories under a canopy of stars untainted by light pollution. #Thriller #Drama #Kindle #Audible #Survival
J is a rock legend! She’s a singer, songwriter, and guitarist. J’s music style blends punk, rock, and glam, with a rebellious spirit that’s inspired many. She’s also a pioneering female musician who’s been a huge influence on women in rock. With a career spanning decades, J’s still rocking! But she started out like any of us. She was exposed to music early on. She convinced her parents to let her take guitar lessons at a young age. She formed her first band, in the 1970s with fellow teenage girls and the rest is history…
Beth levered her arms down to scoot up in the bed and nearly banged the stump of her arm against the side of the bed before Cammy stopped her. “Honey… Honey… Your arm. You have to be careful,” Cammy told her. “Oh God,” Beth whispered through her dry lips as she stared down at the stump of her arm. #Horror #Series #Dystopian #Apocalyptic
There were four of them outside the vehicles talking or keeping watch on the parking lot. Bear and Beth, Mac and Billy. When the first one dropped, Billy spun around and clubbed it to the ground. But the rest came so fast that they could not hope to easily and quickly pick them off. #Horror #Series #Dystopian #Apocalyptic
The schematics for the neural network were a symphony of complexity, a testament to the intricate beauty and terrifying potential of the human mind. Emily, hunched over her console, felt a profound connection to the data streams flowing before her. Each line of code, each simulated pathway, represented a step closer to her ultimate goal: the creation of a consciousness untethered by the frailties of the flesh, a mind capable of processing the universe at speeds that would leave organic brains gasping in its wake. #readers #Kindle#Frankenstein #Horror
The Old West is a collection of five western themed stories set in the old west. Come along for an authentic trip through the west, the way it really was.
Jimson Jones, Sarah Johnson, The Cowboy, The Farmers Wife, To Hang a Thief
An excerpt from: Sarah Jones
One starless night, the tranquility of Harmony Creek was irrevocably broken. The rhythmic chirping of crickets was replaced by the terrifying sounds of shattering glass and panicked screams. A nightmare descended upon the peaceful farm. The familiar comfort of home was replaced by a brutal violence, a darkness that would sear itself into Sarah’s memory forever.
By Wendell Sweet One evening, I found myself back at the scene of the car accident—the snow-covered road where my life nearly ended. The scars on my body served as tangible reminders of that brutal night; the emotional scars were far deeper. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind. The cold night air, the harsh sounds of snow crunching under my boots; it all was reminiscent of the night that would nearly cost my life. Standing there, I felt a wave of sadness, a flicker of the old fear, but it quickly subsided. The trauma was still there, woven into the fabric of my being, but it no longer controlled me. I had faced it, processed it, and emerged stronger.
