Posts Tagged ‘BLOG TOUR’

Zoom Fatigue? Why We Need the Under-30 Crowd More Than Ever!

My world was rocked recently. One of my students said one little sentence that grabbed my attention and shook it like a dog battling for his bone.

I was in a Zoom conversation with some grad students. We were chatting about technology and small groups, particularly how they develop, evolve and grow. And that’s when he said it. He had a large survey of various ages in his church and had come to an alarming conclusion:

“The under-30 crowd have no issues with digital formats and cyber communication.”

At first glance that might not seem too revolutionary. Okay, so what? But don’t overlook the “no issues” part. That’s what rattled my brain. I think he’s right. And that’s a huge problem. Think about it. Who’s making most of the critical choices and definitive decisions right now in your business, your school, your organization or your church? My guess is that person or those persons are all over the age of thirty.

Ouch. Do I have your attention now? Good.

For those born since 1990—the Net, iTech and emerging Robo Generations—there is little to no disturbance in their worlds when it comes to learning or working or interacting via the Internet.

You can’t say that about the older generations. I work with two life groups through my church. We moved to Zoom for our gatherings nearly a month ago and I still have hold outs. I still have people who inform me they prefer “live and in person” events. They don’t want to use digital formats and diss cyber communication. I have a few that refuse to get on Facebook and a couple who claim they don’t have the technology to connect (they do but they don’t want to learn how to use it).

I hear no such complaints from the under-30 crowd. They’re not just surviving in this new Covid-19 cyber cultural landscape, they are thriving. It’s like they were made for a streaming cloud culture and, in a way, they were.

The Internet is their utility. Online is their highway. Digital is their format.

The Visual Generations were born between 1940 and 1990.  They grew up tattooed by television tech. The Personal Computer/Cell Phone generation (b. 1980-2000) is a bridge generation. The older members of this cohort tend to retain their visual preferences while the younger ones lean toward the digital. These latter individuals are currently all under 30.

Visual generations matured with technology that arrived visually.

They learned, worked, worshipped, played and interacted via the “eye” gates. They channeled their entertainment through a tube. They consumed video games like Pacman dots. They dined on cable television’s increasing menu. Its why visual generations can struggle with digital formats, even digital visual formats like Zoom, Facetime and other video chat technologies. The visual generations—influenced by television (satellite, cable) and television parallel techs (video games, VCR/DVR)—prefer a world through a screen.

They want to watch and learn, watch and worship, watch and do business. And they prefer in-person (touch) events, classes, services and activities.

Digital formats are too fast and fluid for these visual generations. The older the person, the more they struggle to handle the bits and bytes of our cyber culture. It’s probably why we don’t want them necessarily calling all the shots right now. The best thing a school or business or church could do is hire someone under-30 to help them navigate these virtual worlds. My younger students show little “Zoom” fatigue, for example. My older students do. Younger generations swim naturally in this fast and fluid streams. They fly free in cloud technologies. Those over 30 are proving they can adapt, even adopt with limitation, but it’s not a natural thing.

The older you are, the harder you have to work to learn, play and worship online.

This Covid-19 virus is opening a new box without corners, walls, tops or bottoms.  Actually it’s reimagining a world without boxes. We’ve all seen this day coming.

And the under-30 crowd is handling it just fine.

They were born for this moment.

Maybe we need to listen to them.

We are uniquely shaped by innovations that influenced us during our “coming of age” years between 10 and 25.
It is the technological interactions in our adolescence and college
years that guide our generational frames more than anything else, not the day we were born.We are generations of technology. We are GenTech.
– Dr. Rick Chromey

Join us for this tour from Jun 2  to Jun 29, 2020!

Book Details:

Book Title:  GenTech: An American Story of Technology, Change and Who We Really Are by Dr. Rick Chromey
Category:  Adult Non-fiction 18 yrs +,  328 pages
Genre:  History / Cultural & Technical History
Publisher:  Morgan James Publishing
Release date:   May 26, 2020
Content Rating:  G : This is a non-fiction book about our technical history and how it has shaped our culture.

Book Description:

Every twenty years a new generation rises, but who and what defines these generations? And could current generational tags mislead and miss the point? In this insightful analysis of technology history since 1900, Dr. Rick Chromey offers a fresh perspective for understanding what makes a generation tick and differ from others. Within GenTech, readers learn how every generation uniquely interacts with particular technologies that define historical temperament and personality and why current generational labels are more fluid than fixed, and more loopy than linear. Consequently, three major generational constellations emerge, each containing four, twenty-year generations that overlap, merge, and blend:

  • The Audio Generations (1900-1950):
    Transportation-Telephone Generation (1900-1920), Motion Picture Generation (1910-1930), Radio Generation (1920 1940), Vinyl Record Generation (1930-1950)
  • The Visual Generations (1940-1990): Television Generation (1940-1960), Space Generation (1950-1970), Gamer Generation (1960-1980) and Cable Television Generation (1970-1990)
  • The Digital Generations (1980-2000): Personal
    Computer-Cell Phone Generation (1980-2000), Net Generation (1990-2010), iTech Generation (2000-2020), and Robotics Generation (2010-2030). Dive in and revel in this exciting, compelling, and novel perspective to understanding recent American generations with GenTech.

 

Official Scheduled Release Date is May 26, 2020.
Pre-Order Now:
Amazon.com ~ Barnes & Noble ~ IndieBound
BAM ~ Powell‘s ~ Indigo ~ Rediscovered Books

 

Meet the Author:  

Rick Chromey is a cultural explorer, social historian and generational futurist. He’s also served as a pastor, professor, speaker/trainer, and consultant. In 2017, he founded MANNA! Educational Services International to inspire and equip leaders, teachers, pastors, and parents. Rick has a doctorate in leadership and the emerging culture; and travels the U.S. and world to speak on culture, faith, history, education, and leadership topics. He has authored over a dozen books on leadership, natural motivation, creative communication, and classroom management. He lives with his wife, Linda, in Meridian, Idaho.

 

Connect with the Author:

website ~youtube ~ facebook ~ twitter ~ instagram

Tour Schedule:
June 2 – Bless Their Hearts Mom – book review / guest post / giveaway
June 2 – Book Corner News and Reviews – book review / giveaway
June 3 – Jazzy Book Reviews – book spotlight / author interview / giveaway
June 3 – Books for Books – book spotlight
June 4 – Locks, Hooks and Books – book review / giveaway
June 4 – Stephanie Jane – book spotlight / giveaway
June 5 – T’s Stuff – book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
June 8 – Books and Zebras – book review
June 9 – Svetlanas reads and views – book review
June 9 – Sefina Hawke’s Books – book spotlight
June 10 – 411 On Books, Authors, And Publishing News – book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
June 10 – Reader’s Cozy Corner – book review / giveaway
June 10 – Mowgli with a book – book review
June 11 – Splashes of Joy – book review / author interview / giveaway
June 12 –Nighttime Reading Center – book review / giveaway
June 15 –The avid Reader – book review / giveaway
June 17 – Library of Clean Reads – book review / giveaway
June 19 – Buried Under Books – book review / guest post / giveaway
June 22 – Rockin’ Book Reviews – book review / giveaway
June 24 – Olio by Marilyn – book spotlight / author interview
June 24 – Olio by Marilyn – book review / giveaway
June 29 – Adventurous Jessy – book review / giveaway

Enter the Giveaway:

CLICK HERE TO ENTER

 

 

The Occult Persuasion and the Anarchist's Solution by Lisa de Nikolits Banner

The Occult Persuasion and the Anarchist’s Solution

by Lisa de Nikolits

on Tour March 1-31, 2020

Synopsis:

The Occult Persuasion and the Anarchist's Solution by Lisa de Nikolits The Occult Persuasion and the Anarchist’s Solution is about a couple experiencing a crisis. The husband, Lyndon, loses his job as editor of a financial magazine. Neither are happy with aging. Lyndon has gotten by with charm and frozen emotions. The wife, Margaux, has no idea how angry she is with him for his detachment. It is her idea to sell the house and just travel. But he is not coping well with retirement, so he simply walks off a ferry in Australia and leaves her. He steals a cat (well, he steals an expensive SUV that happens to have a cat onboard) and he flees Sydney, ending up in Apollo Bay, a few hours south-west of Melbourne, where he falls in with a group of anarchists and punk rockers in a tattoo parlour, planning revolution. Meanwhile, Margaux sits tight in Sydney with no idea of where her husband might be or what happened. She moves into the red-light Kings Cross area, befriending the owner of the hostel, a seventy-year-old ex-cop drag queen from Saint John, New Brunswick, and waits to hear from her husband. When she learns that her husband is fine, she is consumed by wrath and she invokes the angry spirit of an evil nurse, a key player in the terrible Chelmsworth sleep therapy in which many patients died (historical fact). While Lyndon gets in touch with his original career ambition to become an artist and wrestles with anarchism versus capitalism, Margaux learns to deal with her rage. A serio-comedic thriller about a couple who embark on an unintentionally life-changing around-the-world adventure, The Occult Persuasion and the Anarchist’s Solution is about the meaning of life, healing from old wounds, romantic love at all ages, and how love and passion can make a difference, at any age.

Book Details:

Genre: Suspense Thriller Published by: Inanna Poetry & Fiction Series Publication Date: September 30th 2019 Number of Pages: 300 ISBN: 1771336498 (ISBN13: 9781771336499) Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Margaux My husband has fallen overboard into the black sea of the Sydney Harbour. Panic stops my breath as if a cork has been shoved down my throat and I run from one side of the ferry to the other and back, but, just like the last time I checked, he’s not there. It’s close to midnight and the Sydney Harbour is a tar pit of roiling waves, churning and chopping. I lean over the railing, trying to see him in the water, searching for an out-stretched arm but the ferry is moving too quickly. Half a dozen people onboard look at me curiously and I can see them thinking nuts, she’s nuts, don’t make eye contact. I can’t breathe for panic and I am panting like a dog, making horrible sounds. I grab the deckhand by the arm. I try to form words but I can hardly talk and all I can say is husband, gone, must have fallen overboard and I point towards the thick molasses water. The deckhand is kind. He doesn’t call me a raving lunatic. He helps me check the ferry from stern to bow, starboard to port, not once but twice. He asks for my husband’s cell phone number and he dials it on speaker. It goes straight to messages. I’ve already tried, with the same response. Hiya, Lyndon here, do the necessary or forever hold your peace. “He’s fallen overboard,” I say. “We have to send out a rescue party. We have to find him.” *** Lyndon I’m driving on the wrong side of the road. Except of course for them, it’s the right side. I am driving a stolen car and I must concentrate, I can’t afford to get into an accident. For the most part, this car just about drives itself. I got lucky, what kind of idiot leaves a brand-new Jeep running while she gets a coffee? I was standing there, about to sip my skinny flat white when this rich suburban ditz comes along, parks right in front of me, leaps out and rushes into the coffee shop. It’s not like I was looking for a car to steal, of course not, but when she showed up, I knew what I had to do. I sidled around the car, opened the door and shot into the driver’s seat, quickly pulling the door closed. The air con was an arctic blast and I was chilled in seconds. Where was the off-switch? But more importantly, I had to get the hell out of Dodge. I pulled out into the traffic, bracing for sirens, flashing lights and my imminent arrest but there was just the usual Sydney gridlock. I threaded in between the cars, glancing in the rearview mirror and looking for a furious blonde in hot pursuit, shaking her fist and dialling 911 but there was no sign of her. I fumbled with the car’s buttons and levers, driving with one hand, and I managed to turn off the air con. I opened my window and let the warm summer wind blast into the car, washing it clean of the cold, burnt air. But where was I going? A quick decision was necessary. I called up a map of Australia in my mind. I’d studied it long enough before this trip, losing myself in the tongue-twisting Aboriginal names like Woollara, Woolloomoolo and Wollongong and wishing that I didn’t have to go at all. But, here I was, and I had a choice. I could go north east or south west. But the north east Gold Coast sounded cheap and nasty so Melbourne won the coin toss. I was about to take the turnoff for the Hume highway when I realized that highways might have cameras, whereas the smaller roads would not and I decided to navigate by the compass on the dashboard and stay off the radar as much as possible. I had the sudden worry that the car might have a tracker but I figured that if it did, there wasn’t much I could do about it. I felt strangely free and yet resigned at the same time. I checked the gas tank. Full. I didn’t have to worry about that. In fact, for the first time in ages, I didn’t have to worry about anything at all. I was free. Free from all the societal and familial shackles and manacles. I pounded the steering wheel with my fist and I grinned a Jack Nicholson crazy-man smile – yes, I’m doing the Jack-man proud! I’ve been bowed and beaten and nearly broken but not for one second longer! I’ve finally taken control. I released all the windows in the car to get the full volume of the sweet-scented, hot Australian summer and I leaned back in my luxurious seat to savour my moment of triumph. I didn’t let the bastards grind me down! I reached for my skinny flat white and took a satisfying gulp. Say what you will about the Australians, they make great coffee. I took another slug and nearly choked because at that moment, a scream pierced my eardrums and my scrotum clenched so far back in my body I was convinced I’d lost my balls for life. I choked down the mouthful of coffee and shoved the cup into the holder. Another ungodly ear-piercing howl filled into the air and I nearly swerved off the road. I white-knuckled the car into submission and tried to steady my heart which was pounding so hard that my eyeballs were popping. What in god’s name was that? There was a demon in the car? Oh my god, don’t tell me it’s a baby. I stole a car with a baby in it, didn’t I? I glanced into the back, fully expecting to see a baby staring at me with accusing eyes. It’s one thing to be a car thief – which, I’ll have you know I am not – but a kidnapper? My insides sloshed back and forth as if I’d swallowed the green mush that Margaux made me eat instead of breakfast, hoping to get my weight gain under control. I have that same bitter taste in my mouth now as I prepare to meet the gaze of the stolen baby. The baby strapped into the car seat, pursing its little Chuckie-doll monster mouth and getting ready to let loose another of those horrifying screams. But there is no baby. There is no car seat. No Chuckie. Relief washes over me and my balls ungrip a millimeter. At least I am not a child thief, I am not a kidnapper. I can breathe again. Thank god. There is, however, a large grey box on the back seat. A cat box. I take my eyes off the road for a moment and swing around to look at the box. Yes, it’s a cat box. I have kidnapped a cat. I have catnapped. I am a cat-thieving felon. I am sixty years old and I am a cat thief. It is one thing to steal a car, but it is quite another to steal a cat. You do not steal cats. Top of the range Jeeps, yes, that is somewhat acceptable, although of course, I am not a car-thief by profession or nature although deep down, I must be one, since I appropriated the car with such natural ease. I have been a car thief for my entire life, only I never knew it until now. But I am not, nor ever will be, a cat thief. Thoughts fill my mind like dust devils and whirling dervishes and I force my eyes back onto the road. I must focus. Self-recriminations and internal philosophical debates are of little use to me now, I must think. But another eardrum-destroying howl fills the car, as if a hundred geese are being mauled by a pack of wild dogs. And then, pigs are tortured and they squeal and honk and attack each other in a frenzy and it’s all I can do to keep the car moving in a straight line. My hands are shaking and sweat pours off me and I am stuck to the leather seat I was admiring only moments before. What in the blazers is that box? Is a cat even capable of making sounds like that? I need to pull over and dump the box. Nothing in the world should make a noise like that, not even Lizzie Borden’s family as they were chopped up by her nasty axe-wielding little hand. And why is the cat suddenly so distraught when it was utterly silent when I made off with the car? Why is it howling now, a good half an hour later? I scramble for solutions, which is pretty hard to do when devilish sounds are turning the mushy insides of my bowels to ice despite the summer heat which is flooding the car. Ice… which in turn which makes me recall the air con – the car was like a refrigerator when I took it – could it be that the creature wanted the air conditioning back on? Another yowl fills the tiny area and I’m about to pull over and pitch the box out but there are cars in front of me and behind me and I can’t stop – where did all this traffic suddenly come from? Pulling over is not an option. I fumble with the buttons on the steering wheel and manage to close the windows. I punch the air con up to the max, full blast. The cat is still squealing and hissing and I pound the steering wheel with my fist. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, cat,” I shout into the back of the car and I give a low growling moan, trying to quell the beast into submission. I can’t count the years since I’ve raised my voice. I’ve never raised my voice to my children, or my wife and certainly not my staff members. “Shut up! Shut up!” I increase the volume of my chant and my growl turns into a scream which sounds rusty at first, a bit squeaky and I’m certainly no match for the cat who is still putting me to shame. “Shut up! Stop it, eyyyyyyy yayyyyy!” I put some force behind it and soon I am reaching down into my lungs and my gut and it feels fantastic and I grin like Jack while I scream. It takes me a while to notice that the cat has gone quiet and the only sound in the car is coming from me. Feeling remarkably stupid, I stop shouting and all I can hear is frigid air blasting into the confines of the car. I am covered in goose bumps but the cat is silent. I was correct. The cat loves the air con. I clear my throat and readjust my body in the seat and try to reorganize my thoughts and myself after my unexpectedly exhilarating screamfest. I wonder if I should carry on screaming for the fun of it but I have lost momentum. The car is as cold as mortuary’s freezer. That’s why the woman left the car running when she went to get her coffee. To keep the cat happy. That must be some cat. *** Excerpt from The Occult Persuasion and the Anarchist’s Solution by xx. Copyright 2019 by Lisa de Nikolits. Reproduced with permission from Lisa de Nikolits. All rights reserved.
 

Guest Post:

Why Should Readers Read The Occult Persuasiona and The Anarchist’s Solution?

Why indeed? This is perhaps the best question out there!  Well, to start with, it’s a one-of-a-kind punk-themed suspense thriller that combines the winning elements of many bestselling novels. It’s a picaresque thriller with elements of punk rock, combined with domestic thriller intrigue, aspects of esoteric spirituality, unexpected adventures and a brand new cast of unique, hilarious, and relatable characters.

And the book came about under most unusual circumstances! On a trip to Australia, I thought my husband had fallen overboard into Sydney Harbour. In fact, I missed the ferry stop! But I truly thought he was gone. And in that moment, a hundred scenarios flashed across my mind. None of them made it into the book but the seed was sown and I reaped it with all my might!

On the same trip, we visited Balmain and it was there, at the abandoned Rozelle Asylum for the Criminally Insane, (ironically now home to the Sydney International Festival of Authors, among other things), that I felt the presence of the evil Nurse Nancy.

Research into the asylum led to the discovery of the Chelmsford Sleep Therapy which tied in perfectly to the book.

Add to that the fact that I’ve always loved Sid Vicious (who doesn’t?!) and have always wanted to write about him, I studied tarot, focusing on Liz Worth’s book (with her permission), Going Beyond the Little White Book: A Contemporary Guide to Tarot

Also, I wondered about the statue of the Virgin Mary at Coogee for many years and I’ve wanted to work that into a story, as well as the lives of the drag queens in Kings Cross. I lived in Sydney for two years and I wanted to use the city as a backdrop for quite some time.

I also tried to research throwing a roll of toilet paper off the Sydney Harbour Bridge but, contrary to my work of fiction, there are cameras and steel fencing everywhere you look! So me and my roll of toilet paper didn’t get to actually try the experiment but I did the math and the toilet paper protest could, in theory, work!

And I wondered in as store full of anarchists, in Newtown – they frightened and fascinated me!

I figure all of that makes for a really fascinating read and that’s why I think readers will love this book!

Thank you for having me as a guest on your blog and I very much hope your readers will pick up a copy of The Occult Persuasion and the Anarchist’s Solution today!

 

Author Bio:

Lisa de Nikolits Lisa de Nikolits is the internationally-acclaimed, award-winning author of nine novels: The Hungry Mirror, West of Wawa, A Glittering Chaos, The Witchdoctor’s Bones, Between The Cracks She Fell, The Nearly Girl, No Fury Like That, Rotten Peaches and The Occult Persuasion and the Anarchist’s Solution (all Inanna) No Fury Like That was published in Italian in 2019 by Edizione Le Assassine under the title Una furia dell’altro mondo. Her short fiction and poetry have also been published in various anthologies and journals across the country. She is a member of the Mesdames of Mayhem, the Crime Writers of Canada, Sisters in Crime, and the International Thriller Writers. Originally from South Africa, Lisa de Nikolits came to Canada in 2000. She lives and writes in Toronto.

Catch Up With Lisa de Nikolits On: LisadeNikolitsWriter.com, Goodreads, BookBub, Instagram, Twitter, & Facebook!

 

Giveaway!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Lisa de Nikolits. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on March 1, 2020 and runs through April 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.
CLICK HERE for the Rafflecopter giveaway  

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

Death and Betrayal by Seeley James Banner

Death and Betrayal

by Seeley James

on Tour February 17 – March 20, 2020

Synopsis:

Death and Betrayal by Seeley James
Jacob Stearne, ex Army Ranger and current Sabel Security operative, is about to propose to his girl when he discovers that “next generation” weapons are being shipped to our enemies. Some factions in the US government ask him to find the perpetrators while others work to make sure he fails. His intended fiancé does not understand his disappearance and he can’t give an explanation. When Jacob sets out to expose the billionaire intending to auction off national secrets, he is fired, expelled, and hunted by the government that once awarded him medals. If he ever wants to return to his homeland, he must insert himself into the dangerous world of technology smugglers. It’s a place where only the aggressive and ruthless survive. In the cutthroat world of modern-day pirates, every breath he takes may be his last. He must ask himself, can he outsmart the most corrupt billionaires in history before democracy is destroyed? Can he lose the woman he loves to save the nation?

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller Published by: Machined Media Publication Date: February 18th 2020 Number of Pages: 300 ISBN: 978-1-7333467-2-6 Series: Sabel Security Thriller #8 Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

The man they called Ra stood on the Savannah’s main deck, staring hatred into the eyes of the general’s emissary. The smug bastard needed to learn a hard lesson about respect. Ra took several deep breaths, tamping down his growing agitation without betraying his emotions. The general had a good deal of money to spend. Ra held the emissary’s gaze as he cooled off. He said, “We’re talking about an auction for the most advanced weapon system the world has ever seen. An auction the general could easily win. What concerns could he possibly have?” Ra resisted the urge to glance over the sea toward Monaco’s harbor. He was dying to see if his darling’s tender was on its way back from town, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted. “The general does not believe you have what you claim.” The emissary said in his heavily accented English. He gestured with his arms wide, encompassing Ra’s superyacht. “I do not see it here on your little skiff.” Behind his left shoulder, the emissary’s sycophantic lieutenant made an insolent face to match his boss. The dig was childish. Ra had the biggest yacht in Monaco, a present to himself after making billions in commodities. Too big to dock in the harbor. Sure, it was post-season, and the Numina would drop anchor due east of him in a few weeks. Until then, the Savannah reigned supreme. He felt like gutting the slimy emissary for his rudeness. Instead, he smoothed his Kiton sport coat and puffed up his thin frame. “Don’t be a fool,” Ra sneered. “If I kept Alvaria onboard, sleezy generals from around the world would send commandos to take it from me. In case that’s what you’re thinking, rest assured, I have security. We call them ‘the dogs.’ You’ve met two of them.” He gestured to two bulky men in black suits standing close by. “Fido and Rover. Spot keeps watch with a rifle in case someone approaches uninvited. There are more. I have a whole kennel.” Ra turned his back on his guests and checked the harbor. He couldn’t wait for his darling to return but he needed to conclude this delicate business before then. He didn’t want her to see the kind of men he dealt with. The emissary wore a ludicrous uniform without insignia yet festooned with medals. His black hair was greased straight back with what might’ve been motor oil. The lieutenant dressed and groomed himself to match. The very definition of a toady. “The general does not believe the system can do what you claim,” the emissary said. “Oh, my misguided friend. Alvaria is the stuff of autocrats’ dreams.” Ra laid his hands on the railing, keeping his focus out to sea. “Imagine what it can do. At the push of a button, a hundred drones leap into the air, locate their target, and annihilate whoever you choose. Each drone on a single-purpose mission, never stopping until one of them achieves the objective.” He straightened up and turned to face the emissary. “No more political rivals. No more annoying reporters asking inconvenient questions. No more adversaries across your western border. Everyone doing as they’re told, all under the general’s control. As it should be. It’s science fiction—and it’s here today. If your general doesn’t want to bid on it, he won’t get to see the show we have scheduled.” “The general is skeptical you can obtain this system.” The emissary crossed his arms and widened his stance. “The Americans have impenetrable security.” “I stand on my reputation. Many times your poor general has failed to pay me in a timely manner, yet I have never failed to deliver what he needs. From rocket launchers to automatic rifles, they arrived on time and under budget. He would still be a lieutenant were it not for me making good on my promises. He knows damn well my word is gold. My plan has been in the works for years. I have all the right people in all the right places. Alvaria will fall into my hands at exactly the right moment. If he does not believe me, he won’t see the demonstration.” Ra paused before making a sympathetic face. “Until his rival uses it to target him.” To his credit, the emissary didn’t flinch. “Think about this,” Ra said. “If Iran acquires Alvaria, they could destroy the ruling classes of Saudi Arabia and Kuwait in an afternoon. The next morning, they could annihilate Iraq’s parliament. Then, they invade. The price of oil skyrockets because they would control 24% of the world’s production. Sanctions are lifted under threat of an oil embargo. And just like that, the Persian Empire is reborn.” The emissary thought while he took a long, deep breath. He pressed a finger to his lips and looked at the deck. After a long moment, he lifted his finger and shook it at Ra. “The general does not like the glimpses of the future you have illuminated. He does not want to participate in your auction. Instead of bidding for it, he will report you to the Americans. That way, no one will have this system.” He paused and smiled. “There will be no resurgent Persian Empire.” Ra flicked a quick glance at Fido, who sprang into action. To the emissary, Ra said, “I am most disappointed to hear you say that. On a different subject, do you recall meeting my man Bonham in a café last month? Bonham is my second-in-command. He offered you money to turn against the general. Ah, I see from your surprise that you do recall the encounter vividly. Well, sport, the problem for you is that when you turned him down, your lieutenant did not.” As the emissary’s surprise turned to shock, his gaze swiveled to his lieutenant. At that moment, Fido knelt at the emissary’s feet and clamped leg irons on his ankles. In disbelief, the emissary looked down at his shackles, then followed the attached chain to find Rover standing at the railing, holding a very large, very heavy stone. “Do you think you can scare—” “You’ve been paid,” Ra said to the emissary’s lieutenant. He held out an old, razor-sharp dagger. “Slit his throat.” The lieutenant stared at Ra in disbelief. “Now?” “Yes, now. Or die with him. Your choice. Ah. You’ve seen the light. Good man. Right here, above the collar. Stand behind him so you don’t get blood on yourself.” As the young man weighed the knife in his hand and moved behind his former boss, Ra took out his phone, set it to video, and pressed record. The knife slashed through the stunned and wordless emissary’s neck. Blood sprayed forward. Rover dropped the rock overboard. The chain’s slack disappeared and yanked the emissary’s body with it, over the railing and into the deep. The young man looked up at Ra, who kept the video rolling. The psychological weight of his first murder began to contort the young lieutenant’s expression. As he pondered his rapidly changing allegiances, he looked down to find Rover placing leg irons on his ankles. Behind him, Fido stood at the railing with another rock. He looked back at Ra and squeaked, “Why? I did what—” “I think it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Ra asked. “You can’t be trusted.” Over his shoulder he saw the tender bearing his darling returning from shore. She would be onboard in five minutes. No time for long goodbyes. He turned back to face the lieutenant as Rover slit the young man’s throat. “There are four more of your kind in the general’s private guard. He’ll be dead by morning, so you’ll be in good company.” The stone dropped. The chain tightened. The lieutenant’s body flew over the railing into the deep. Ra looked at the pool of blood covering the deck. He snapped his fingers. A steward appeared. “You see this ugly mess? Scrub it clean.” *** Excerpt from Death and Betrayal by Seeley James. Copyright 2020 by Seeley James. Reproduced with permission from Machined Media. All rights reserved.

Author Bio:

Seeley James Seeley James’ near-death experiences range from talking a jealous husband into putting the gun down to spinning out on an icy freeway in heavy traffic without touching anything. His resume ranges from washing dishes to global technology management. His personal life ranges from homeless at 17, adopting a 3-year-old at 19, getting married at 37, fathering his last child at 43, hiking the Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim at 59, and taking the occasional nap. Seeley’s writing career began with humble beginnings including publishing short stories in The Battered Suitcase leading to being awarded a Medallion from the Book Readers Appreciation Group. Seeley is best known for his Sabel Security series of thrillers featuring athlete and heiress Pia Sabel and her bodyguard and operative, veteran Jacob Stearne. One of them kicks ass and the other talks to the wrong god. Seeley’s love of creativity began at an early age, growing up at Frank Lloyd Wright’s School of Architecture in Arizona and Wisconsin. He carried his imagination first into a successful career in computer technology sales and marketing, and then to his real love: fiction.

Catch Up With Seeley James On: SeeleyJames.com, Instagram,Twitter, Goodreads, BookBub, & Facebook!

Giveaway!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Seeley James. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on February 17, 2020 and runs through March 22, 2020. Void where prohibited.
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