Showing posts with label Frances Paul. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frances Paul. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 2, 2024

Book Blitz! Sea of Scars by Frances Paul ~ Excerpt and #Giveaway! #SeaOfScars @XpressoTours

 

Sea of Scars by Frances Paul
Publication date: October 1st 2024
Genres: Adult, Romance

I lost everything. My job. My family. My life…my sanity.

In Frances Paul’s poignant and gripping novel, Sea of Scars, we are introduced to a protagonist who has hit rock bottom. His story is one of loss and despair, but also of hope and redemption. As we gear up for the much-anticipated relaunch of this compelling tale, let’s delve into the heart-wrenching journey that awaits readers.

A Story of Loss and Redemption

Sea of Scars tells the story of Zachary Reid, a man who has lost everything: his wife, his kids, and his honor, suffering a dishonorable discharge from the Marines. In his quest to prove his strength and resilience, he only managed to dig a deeper hole of despair, leading to devastating consequences for those he loved most. His refusal to seek the help he so desperately needed caused irreparable damage, leaving him in a sea of regret and guilt.

A Glimmer of Hope

Just as he starts to believe that life has abandoned him, he encounters Courtney Peterson—a stunning woman with a tumultuous history and scars that reflect his own. Their shared damage is profound, prompting him to question whether their bond represents true hope or mutual downfall. Yet, amidst these doubts, Courtney infuses his spirit with fresh vitality, sparking a faint hope that perhaps, he has received a second opportunity to amend his life.

Themes of Strength and Vulnerability

Frances Paul masterfully weaves themes of strength and vulnerability throughout Sea of Scars. The protagonist’s journey is a powerful reminder that acknowledging our weaknesses and seeking help is a true sign of strength. Courtney’s character serves as a beacon of hope, showing that even the most broken among us can find healing and redemption.

Why You Should Read Sea of Scars

The upcoming relaunch of Sea of Scars is more than just a second release; it’s an opportunity for new readers to discover a deeply moving story and for previous readers to reconnect with its powerful themes. This novel is perfect for anyone who has faced their own battles with loss and pain, and for those who believe in the power of second chances.

In addition to the relaunch of the print and digital versions, Sea of Scars will now be available as an audiobook, performed by the talented James Leitch. Leitch’s voice brings a new dimension to the story, capturing the raw emotions and complexities of each character with remarkable dedication. His performance is sure to enhance the reader’s experience, making the journey through “Sea of Scars” even more immersive and impactful.

Frances Paul’s Sea of Scars is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. It is a story that will resonate with anyone who has ever struggled to overcome their own personal demons.

Mark your calendars and get ready to experience the transformative journey of Sea of Scars. This is a story that will stay with you long after you’ve turned the final page, and with James Leitch’s captivating narration, the audiobook promises to be an unforgettable experience.

Goodreads | Amazon

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EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
~ Norman Cousins

Silence filled the room, lingering for several minutes— longer than in their previous sessions. Dr. Bailey Clark glanced at the wall clock across from her seat. This was their fifth session, and nothing had changed since their first. His reluctance to open up wasn’t surprising, given her experience with severe cases like his. These therapy sessions weren’t his choice; they were court- ordered. Though she could report him as uncooperative, that wouldn’t heal his illness or solve any problems. His panic attacks and extreme anxiety could escalate into something more dangerous, and it was her responsibility to prevent that if possible.

“Zachary, this is our fifth session, and we haven’t made any headway. At some point, you’ll need to trust me. I am not here to simply report your progress to the court. I am truly alarmed and worried about you,” Dr. Clark expressed as cautiously as she could to avoid him walking out, as he did on his last visit.
She closed her notepad, removed the glasses that sat at the bridge of her pointy nose, and set them aside, hoping the gesture would create some level of comfort and trust between them.

“We can start small, as I suggested on your last visit. Let’s talk about Alison. How did you meet her?” Her voice was now measured, almost a whisper.

Her gestures loosened her client’s tense demeanor. He sighed and took his focus off the blank wall he’d been gawking at for the past fifteen minutes.

In an uncanny way, the soft gray wall brought him a sense of solace. “College, right before I enlisted.” He eyed his hands, now clasped together. “We dated for a year before we eloped. She was pregnant with our first kid. I was deployed to Western Asia on a peaceful mission before Amelia was born.”

“That’s interesting,” Dr. Clark said. “What was the motivation behind your enlistment?”

“My grandfather was a SEAL, a Lieutenant Commander in the US Navy. So was my great- grandfather. My father was a Marine, Brigadier General. Both served our great nation well. It was tough growing up in a family with such high expectations. From the day I was born, I was groomed to serve my country. I guess that was all the motivation I needed. Their life’s mission was accomplished when I enlisted after my eighteenth birthday.”

“Are you in contact with them?”

“That would be hard to do since they both passed away before I was deployed on my first mission.”

“Sorry to hear that. Your mother, any siblings?”

Zachary shook his head, recalling his lonely childhood being an awkward little boy who spent most of his days trapped in a treehouse playing with his military soldier toy kit. Having a fear of rejection by both sexes, making friends wasn’t his forte. He was safer trapped in his own world of seclusion. His father wasn’t an easy man to love or please, and Zachary lived in fear of disappointing him, hence his decision to enlist, hoping to please the old man. His father suffered from alcoholism and constantly ridiculed him no matter how hard he worked to appease him. When he was home, he indulged in activities that initiated violence against both Zachary and his mother. It was a story that was too painful for him to relive or communicate.

Observing his hesitation to discuss his childhood, Dr. Clark smartly took another approach. “Tell me about your first mission. Your time in Western Asia.”

Zachary slouched onto the couch and continued to eye his hands. “It only lasted a year. It was exactly as the name conveyed, peaceful. We spent days and nights patrolling small villages and protecting them from their own, the local rebels. We had an agreement with these insurgents to stay away from innocent civilians. A few of us were left behind to ensure that they kept their end of the deal. I remember thinking how tedious the mission was. I was prepared for combat, a more active operation. That dangerous duty I had dreamed of partaking in since I was a little boy playing with my military playset. So, I thought…” His expression turned somber once more.

“I don’t want to push you too hard…”

“I’d like to get this over with. You want to know about my last mission?”

“If you are up for it.” Dr. Clark picked up her notepad and clicked the back of her pen.

“It was exactly what I asked for. I served two tours before I got my other-than-honorable discharge. It was a difficult time for my family. After my first tour, I could barely sleep at night without visualizing the men I killed in combat. The vicious, ungodly, gory crimes I witnessed. The cries of women that’d lost their husbands and sons.

I suffered from severe PTSD, yet nobody cared. They only cared about defending the borders, destroying the rebels, sending you out to kill, kill, and kill. I knew I couldn’t complain because it was exactly what I wanted. I soon realized otherwise. This couldn’t possibly be the life my father and grandfather expected me to live. My mind was sick after my first kill. It was a man you could probably say deserved it. He was a member of a group that terrorized the villagers. Killed men, children, and raped their women, though killing him didn’t bring me solace but rather triggered my first stage of depression. On my second tour, I saw my colleagues being blown into pieces. Do you know what the burning of human flesh smells like? Their screams, the squeals, like wounded animals, the horror in their voices. Why was I so lucky to be alive? Is it even luck to live with such disturbing images in my mind daily?” He hunched forward and grimaced, looking utterly disheartened.

“One night, my dear friend and colleague Sgt. Pierce and I were patrolling the borders a few miles from our base. After an hour on duty, we heard gunshots coming from the base. We abandoned the post and rushed to investigate.” Zachary paused, swallowing a lump of grief. He heaved a sigh, then rubbed the back of his neck in a frantic motion. He gazed at his trembling hands and continued without meeting Dr. Clark’s eyes. “The base was ablaze, and we could hear the screams of our men as bombs detonated from all sides. I saw one of our corporals running in hysterical circles, his body engulfed in flames. I rushed to help him, but by the time I reached his side, a bullet had already pierced his head. I had to drop for cover. That was the moment I got separated from Pierce. The chaos was overwhelming, and I couldn’t see what was happening. I took down a couple of enemies as I searched for the rest of my comrades…but what I saw…” His voice trembled.

The anguish in Zachary’s voice was something Dr. Clark hadn’t encountered before. Though she’d counseled many returnees and veterans in the past, there was something uniquely haunting about his pain. It stirred a deep resolve within her to go beyond her usual efforts and truly help him through his suffering.

“What I saw will live with me for the rest of my miserable life. Scorching bodies of my colleagues, heads blown off, some decapitated. No one survived the ambush. I was obviously outnumbered, couldn’t do anything except hide like a coward. The rogues dismantled our properties and celebrated their accomplishment. They piled up the corpses of my men, bodies on bodies. Some relieved themselves on the corpses while others spat on them. A while later, a man yelled a few words in their local dialect, and the rest cheered while firing shots in the air. They dragged my friend Sgt. Pierce on the ground while he pleaded for his life.

There was nothing I could do other than whimper in the dark like the weakling I was. He was executed seconds later, beheaded while he pled.”

Zachary paused and exhaled sharply. “The executioner just tossed his head on top of the pile of bodies they had collected.”

Dr. Clark cleared her throat as she absorbed Zachary’s horrifying experience. “Do you want to take a break? We can continue in your next session. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” In truth, she needed a break from the gory details herself.

“Do you not understand what I’m saying to you, Dr. Clark? Overwhelming is when your command sergeant tells you the day after witnessing something so barbaric to get back on the field and do your job like nothing happened. It’s just another day. No time to mourn the fallen or receive proper counseling. I was sick, weak, not physically but mentally and spiritually after that ordeal. I snuck out to bars and drank every single night, even while on duty. My judgment was impaired. I didn’t know the difference between an ally and a foe. I blamed every person that crossed my path. I once strangled a man to near death because all I saw were the faces of the animals that killed my comrades. After getting into fights with my team members and the locals on a regular basis and ignoring all the warnings that were issued out to me, I was sent home. Tossed to the side like garbage. I was unmanageable, and for justifiable reasons. That’s it. They throw you back into the world, damaged or not. I couldn’t sleep, eat, or make love to my wife. My kids became strangers. My anger escalated, and yelling became a norm in my home. Everyone tiptoed around me, even my own kids. They are the enemies now. When I get my episodes, which are regularly, Alison becomes the target, and she’s been the target for the past six months. She does it well. Conceals the pain, bruises, and makes all kinds of excuses for my shameful behavior. Until recently. She couldn’t take it anymore. Now she’s seeking a divorce and, no doubt, sole custody of the kids. She is taking the one good thing I have left in this cruel world. I’m drowning, and there’s no coming back from this. So, I don’t care what you tell the courts. I’m not your charity case, so quit trying to fix something that is beyond repair. I see what you are doing, and it’s senseless.”

“You are not my charity case, and I apologize if I gave you that impression. You cannot give up and run from your problems. I get it, you might never recover from that experience, but you could try. At least for the sake of your kids.” Dr. Clark rose to her feet and treaded toward her desk. She drew a card from the Rolodex and turned back to him.

Zachary wore a permanent frown, lost in his obscure thoughts. His posture suggested defeat, and his demeanor advocated violence. He had potential to cause more havoc, and not only to his wife and kids, but to the public. There had been many cases in the news about lone gunmen, conspiracy theorists, militias, and people with depression and mental illness who caused so much grief in the world. She didn’t want to wake up one day to see the face of her patient on the news. The blood of innocent souls would be on her hands. This was a curse she couldn’t live with. She refused to give the court a reason to lock him away when there was hope. A lot of work, nonetheless she was confident.

Am I overreaching? She often questioned her sanity when faced with such complex cases. “Zachary, how would you feel about participating in a group treatment program with other servicemen with similar issues as yours? Before you say no, hear me out. The program provides a safe environment for patients to become more socially associated with others, and it offers the opportunity to build trust. Before any change can occur, we must restore your lack of faith. It wouldn’t take your pain away, I know that. As humans, we have moments when we lose all hope and are unable to believe in second chances. Relationships turn sour, people die, and we lose courage. Life is about breaking barriers and pushing through uncertainties. My words might seem trivial now, but we must begin somewhere, believing you’ll overcome this. From similar cases, I’ve learned that one-on-one treatment isn’t as effective as people often think. In group programs, you’ll interact with others who truly understand what you’re going through because they’ve lived it. I’d be lying if I said I knew exactly how you feel—despite all my degrees, I lack that personal experience. If you choose to participate, I’ll continue working with you throughout the program.”

Zachary was quiet, contemplating her proposal. The doctor was right; he was lost, living in extreme paranoia and unable to love and protect his family. He witnessed violence way before he enlisted. He felt destitute and deserted, and that needed to change. Alison was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and now she detested his very existence. While he might not be able to win her back, he could at least try. He stood and nodded at Dr. Clark.

Relieved, she passed the group counselor’s contact information to him. “You won’t regret this, Zachary.”

“Let’s hope not.”

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About the author

Born and raised in Accra, Ghana and now living in Cincinnati, Ohio. A banker, wife and mother of two amazing kids. She finds writing to be a great passion of hers and a path she was born to follow. She began by writing short stories at a young age. Now, she has four published books and working on a few more projects. She’s a crazy tea lover, loves to travel, eat, and enjoys learning about different cultures. Authors she is inspired by are Sidney Sheldon, Nora Roberts and Jeffrey Archer. Hope you enjoy her books as greatly as she enjoyed producing them.

Connect with Frances

Website | Goodreads | Facebook | Instagram | TikTok


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Thursday, June 18, 2020

A Widow’s Tale by Frances Paul ~ My Thoughts #AWidowsTale


A Widow’s Tale by Frances Paul
Publication date: January 21st 2020
Genres: Adult, Suspense, Thriller

A trained killer. One kill list. A world of hurt.

In this novel, author Frances Paul introduces a complex and driven young lady determined to uncover the truth surrounding the murders of her parents and to bring to justice the people responsible for the cruel act.

Karina Navarre, a Cuban national, lived a life that would be described as anything but easy. After witnessing the brutal murder of her parents, Karina’s life spiraled out of control, until a former KGB officer agreed to take her under his wing and train her.

Eight years later, the girl who has been discarded and forgotten is introduced to the underworld – resilient and ready to take her life back. But when tragedy strikes again, Karina turns into a force to be reckoned with, a woman out for revenge.

Fueled by her grief, Karina sets off on a breathtaking journey of twists and turns, fighting in a world where women are deemed inferior. But she’s determined to avenge the deaths of those she lost, even if that means risking everything including her own life in the process. Karina Navarre has a list, and she’s crossing off names…one by bloody one.

Thrilling, unpredictable, fast-paced, and powered by a grieved widow’s inexorable sense of duty.


My thoughts about A Widow's Tale ~~

(I love to note the first lines of the books I'm reading. First lines can really grab a reader's attention and I love seeing where the author takes the reader after their first line.)

First line—"'This is fantastic, Princesa?' 'Yes, papa. I saved the best for last.' 'I see that.' Carlos much admired his daughter's painting of their old house in Trelew, Argentina."

First of all, I just have to mention this cover. Isn't it intriguing? It sure captured my attention. 

And then there was the first chapter. Wow! That sure grabbed my attention too. What a way to start off a story. 

Karina is only ten years old when she silently watches as her parents are killed right in front of her. The bad men left her alive..... which was a big mistake on their part. Revenge is what drives this little girl her entire life. 

I have to admit that this type of book is not my usual reading material but the cover and the synopsis drew me in. This story kept me engaged until the very end. I'm glad I took a chance on a book that made me take step outside of my comfort zone. 

A Widow's Tale is full of intrigue, revenge, evil, and love. Twists and betrayals will definitely keep you turning the pages. 

I received an ARC of A Widow's Tale from Goodreads and this is my honest opinion.

About the author

Frances Paul

Born and raised in Accra, Ghana and now living in Cincinnati, Ohio. A banker, wife and mother of two amazing kids. She finds writing to be a great passion of hers and a path she was born to follow. She began by writing short stories at a young age. Now, she has four published books and working on a few more projects. She's a crazy tea lover, loves to travel, eat, and enjoys learning about different cultures. Authors she is inspired by are Sidney Sheldon, Nora Roberts and Jeffrey Archer. Hope you enjoy her books as greatly as she enjoyed producing them. ~ Goodreads

Connect with Frances 
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Be sure to check the sidebar for all of my current giveaways!

Sunday, March 1, 2020

Book Blitz! A Widow's Tale by Frances Paul ~ Excerpt and a #Giveaway!


A Widow's Tale


A Widow’s Tale by Frances Paul
Publication date: January 21st 2020
Genres: Adult, Suspense, Thriller

A trained killer. One kill list. A world of hurt.

In this novel, author Frances Paul introduces a complex and driven young lady determined to uncover the truth surrounding the murders of her parents and to bring to justice the people responsible for the cruel act.

Karina Navarre, a Cuban national, lived a life that would be described as anything but easy. After witnessing the brutal murder of her parents, Karina’s life spiraled out of control, until a former KGB officer agreed to take her under his wing and train her.

Eight years later, the girl who has been discarded and forgotten is introduced to the underworld – resilient and ready to take her life back. But when tragedy strikes again, Karina turns into a force to be reckoned with, a woman out for revenge.

Fueled by her grief, Karina sets off on a breathtaking journey of twists and turns, fighting in a world where women are deemed inferior. But she’s determined to avenge the deaths of those she lost, even if that means risking everything including her own life in the process. Karina Navarre has a list, and she’s crossing off names…one by bloody one.

Thrilling, unpredictable, fast-paced, and powered by a grieved widow’s inexorable sense of duty.



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Excerpt

Prologue
New Year’s Eve
1996
Santiago del Estero, Argentina

“This is fantastic, Princesa?”

“Yes, papa. I saved the best for last.”

“I see that.” Carlos much admired his daughter’s painting of their old house in Trelew, Argentina. In front of the house stood Bella, Karina’s dog. A Maltese who passed a year prior. Bella was an old dog, fifteen years old when she passed away. She was part of the Navarre family and played a major role in Karina’s upbringing. She took the death harder than anyone.

“This is your late Christmas and New Year’s present.” Karina explained to her father.

“It was worth the wait.” Carlos carried his ten-year old in his arms and kissed her temple. Gloria Navarre strolled into the living room with two champagne flutes and offered one to her husband.

“You know what we need to do before the clock strikes midnight?”

“What?” Karina looked up at her mom expectantly.

“Share our New Year’s resolutions.”

“What is a New Year’s resolution?” Asked a puzzled Karina, still seated on her father’s lap.

“It’s a promise you make to yourself to start doing something good or stop doing something bad in the New Year.”

Karina thought to herself for a moment, “I promise to share more.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Gloria grinned.

“…and eat all the veggies you sneak into my meals.” Karina quickly added.

Both Gloria and Carlos laughed.

“Let’s set realistic goals.” Teased Carlos.

“What about you, mama?”

A sudden thud behind the door seized Carlos’s attention. He would have ignored it as nothing more than his paranoia playing tricks on him if a second and much louder thud did not follow the first. He quickly stood, forcing Karina off his lap. He edged toward the windows and the first clue he discovered was the foot of one of his guards sticking out in the hallway.

He instantly paled. Gloria noticing her husband’s predicament, placed her finger to her lips, a sign of silence to Karina. She grabbed her daughter’s shoulders and forced her underneath the sofa.

Bang! The door suddenly swung open. Five men garbed in black and carrying weapons marched in with steady steps. They each had blades tucked inside their belts, except for one. The leader! He stepped away from the group, distancing himself from the masses and demonstrating his authority with self-importance. He wore a tailored dark suit and dark dress shirt. His shoes were polished to a gloss. All five men were dressed sharply, but the leader stood out. Gloria Navarre stood terrified, shuddering with terror behind her husband. Karina sensing danger remained unmoving. The ten-year old knew exactly what to do as she had been rehearsing for years with her mother. Gloria always cautioned her, there are many monsters in the world that’d want to hurt us because of who we are and what we represent and she must be ready when and if that occurred. Though Karina never believed or understood her, she went along with the exercise anyway to pacify her mother’s fears. Be as silent as the grave, her mom had told her. Under no circumstance should you reveal yourself or let the enemy know where you are hiding and tonight she did just that. She couldn’t see the faces of the beasts that invaded their home, but she saw their shoes. Her eyes were fixated on the glossier pair. It stood right in front of her father’s bare feet.

“Carlos Navarre,” a deep voice said, probably from the man with the shiny feet, “this was easier than I thought it’d be.” his cold chortle filled the noiseless room.

“Mrs. Navarre.” his voice was deeply aggrieved.

“Tomas?” her father’s voice responded, “You’ve some nerves storming into my home as if you own me. What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, be careful now.” The deep voice warned, “It’s a new day. You lost before the battle began. I am taking over your empire and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me. Your men, at least those in the building are all gone. You are done, Navarre. If you’re as wise as you have in the past portrayed yourself to be, you’ll be reciting your final prayers, pleading for clemency for your soul before I squeeze this trigger.”

“You traitorous bastard. Tell me, what coerced you to act against the hand that has fed you all these years? You were nothing. I made you and this is how you repay me?”

“You are a weak man, Navarre. You call yourself the boss. The Don.” he said with a slight chuckle, “You are a joke, a phony. We did all your dirty work while you sat on your high horse and collected. I don’t answer to weak men, not anymore.”

“You’ll never survive in our world with this kind of betrayal under your belt. No one will trust you. Think very hard about what you are doing.”

“Oh, I have. See, while you were seated on your throne, filling your belly from our blood and sweat, I was preparing for this defining moment. I’ve looked forward to this day for a very long time.” he crowed with insolence.

“You were always in my home, seated at my table with my family, breaking bread and today you kiss me on my cheek?” Carlos said incredulously.

“You give me too much credit. I am no Judas. You sealed your fate, Carlos. I am just here to ensure your crossover goes smoothly.” he released the safety on the gun and aimed it at Carlos’s head. That was the moment little Karina realized she knew the monster. She thought the voice sounded familiar but her feeble nerves had compromised her brain. It was her father’s good friend, Uncle Tomas, but why’d he do this? She mused.

“This is absurd, Tomas. This is between us. Let my wife go, and we can handle this as men.”

“As you wish.” Tomas said right before a loud ear-piercing sound filled the room. Within seconds, her mother’s eyes were gazing directly at her. Blood streaming down her temple. Her eyes were wide open but appeared lifeless and Karina knew right away that her mother was gone.

A deep agonizing scream from her father erupted through the room.

“There it is. I let her go. Now we handle this as men.” Tomas motioned with his weapon between him and Carlos.

Still staring into her mother’s cold eyes, Karina whimpered in absolute silence. Unceasing tears poured down her face, spilling over her hands. “Mummy?” she mouthed.

“I’ll destroy you, Tomas.” her father said, right before another dreadful sound emitted and just as she feared, his body slumped on top of her mother’s. She shut her eyes for a moment and sharply inhaled.

The monster’s feet hovered over the corpses for a long moment before he spoke again, “Let’s get out of this rubbish dump.”

“How about the kid?” One of his followers said.

Silence filled the room like an invisible cloud as the men pondered over the question. Heavy footsteps suddenly hurried through the room, then ascended the staircase. Slamming of doors and screams erupted from every corner of the building. With both her hands covering her own mouth to suppress a harrowing scream from sliding out, Karina closed her eyes tightly and prayed. Her little heart raced frenziedly. It was so loud, she feared the men left in the room could hear it too. Be as quiet as the grave. Her mother’s voice echoed in her ears.

“She’s just a stupid girl. What can she do?” Tomas finally said. To some degree, he sounded hesitant, even to himself.

“Tomas?” One of his men protested.

“Do you want to put a bullet into a little girl’s heart?” Anger spewed out of him.

There was no response.

“Or perhaps you want to adopt her?”

Still, no response.

“Leave that dirty little thing. She’ll just turn into a whore like the rest of them if she’s not dead within two years.”

“Did you find the sleazeball?” he snarled, referring to Carlos’s best friend and second in command, Savio Cardozo.

“Not yet.”

“Find him. The takeover is not successful until he is put down.”

The frightening sound of additional bullets filled the room as he shot extra holes into her father to certify his demise.

After some time, the footsteps receded, and she cautiously dragged her body forward to gain a full length view of the monster who destroyed her entire life in one night before he exited the room. Disheartened, she broke down into hysterical tears when she established, it was indeed, Uncle Tomas.

Leuven, Belgium
Present Day

A serene night. The stars shone brightly like diamonds. The full moon hung low, illuminating the path, and casting a glow along her vision as she peered through the night vision scope of Ruby, her sniper rifle. Designed to travel as far as 1.25 miles (2.01 km) to her intended target with no hitches. Tonight, her position from the fat bastard she was contracted forty-eight hours earlier to put down like a sick dog was close to two thousand yards. She sighed, savoring the tranquil moment of the gentle winds blowing through her hair and calming the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

She lived for moments like these. The moment the bullet from her rifle travels undetected through the quiet night and lodges itself at home in the heart or brain. Her reputation to date was unimpeachable. She was considered a Grade A sniper, and listed amongst the top ten of the world’s best snipers. She had no knowledge the true identities of her superiors, or acquainted with their location, nor did she care to know. Her job was to eliminate. Plain and simple. An app was installed on a distinctive phone given to her by the agency, where she received notifications when awarded with a contract. The app was designed to disappear from the phone once a contract has been fulfilled. The details provided were typically the name of the target, location and contract amount, no negotiations. Not that she ever had the need to negotiate. She got paid more than she cared to admit, besides, she hardly needed the money. She hadn’t received a notification in six months. Ruby, her rifle grew restless and so did she. Twice a week during those excruciating six months, she’d dismantle her then put her back together. She repeated the practice daily without breaking a sweat.

Tonight’s kill was greatly required to quench her thirsty dark soul.

In a prone position, lying flat on her stomach with both legs spread apart, her left hand rested casually on the biceps of the right, while her right finger hovered over the trigger. Soft winds whistled in her ears and she heeded attentively. Ruby’s trajectory data was set to its precise setting, and she was anxious to squeeze the trigger her index finger was keenly massaging.

Three black Alfa Romeo SUVs pulled up seconds later. Three men in suits simultaneously jumped down from each vehicle before the target exited the vehicle in the middle. He slickly buttoned his suit jacket, scarcely turning his head to the left. She squeezed the trigger and listened as the bullet traveled in the silence of the night through the calming winds at 1,700 miles (2,735.88 km) per hour. It sliced through the center of his forehead within 2.12 seconds. Bullseye!

In just under three minutes, she’d detached the scope and packed Ruby carefully into its case. Just as she jumped into the backseat of the waiting car that was to transport her to an airstrip to board a private jet, her cellphone vibrated inside the pocket of her jacket. She discarded the red leather gloves shielding her hands from the bitter cold and fetched it. Caller unknown, it read.

“Yes?” she answered with a bit of irritation in her voice.

“It’s Savio.” he said, his tone was grimmer than courteous.

“Why are you calling from an unknown number?” she questioned.

“Are you on your way back home?” he countered her question with another.

“What’s going on?” she repeated the pattern.

He remained silent but his heavy breathing could be heard at the end of the line.

“Savio?” she called, growing impatient. After every kill, she performed a ritual. And that was to sit in silence, meditating for a few seconds and patting herself on the back for a job well done. This ill-timed call hindered with her sacramental process.

“Hurry back. We have a problem.” he cautioned.

“Just spit it out?” she had nothing but ultimate respect for Savio, her father-in-law and late father’s best friend but at this moment, his interruption irritated the energized heartbeat she earned from the excitement she just encountered.

“It’s Thian.”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead!” he whimpered, “Do you hear me? They took my boy.” his voice came in a broken growl.

Her hands fell in her lap. The sudden motion caused the phone to fall and disappear under the front seat. Her stare remained at the back of the headrest in sheer dismay. Her mind bizarrely rid of any thoughts.

“We are here, Ms. Navarre.” Karina heard the indistinct voice of her chauffeur.

She looked up and offered him a blank stare. No idea how long she had been stuck in that stupor state. She assumed a lengthy amount of time as the mileage between her last position and the hangar was just about 40.2 kilometers. Adding up to twenty minutes of oblivion. She gathered her bearings and stepped out of the car, grabbing Ruby from the seat beside her.

The pilot bobbed his head at her as she ascended the airstair toward him but received nothing in return. Once settled in her seat, she stared out the window in silence until the plane was safely in the air. She heaved a silent sigh and stiffened her stance. The nerves in her neck coiled, pulling every vein connecting her inner organs. Her skin inflamed with rage as her body temperature climbed at a reckless rate. She waved away the hostess who approached her with a glass of champagne. BBC news blared through the television hanging from the overhead.

BREAKING NEWS―Petrak Novak, former Czech Prime Minister was assassinated at 21:48 at the front entrance of the Park Inn Hotel where he had been staying for the past two days. No report on whether he was on official duty or a private visit. The Belgian Federal Police team are actively engaged in the hunt for the assassin who might still be in the district. Road blocks have been placed all over the city as the manhunt continues. We will keep you informed as we receive more information on this cowardly act.




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About the author


Born and raised in Accra, Ghana and now living in Cincinnati, Ohio. A banker, wife and mother of two amazing kids. She finds writing to be a great passion of hers and a path she was born to follow. She began by writing short stories at a young age. Now, she has four published books and working on a few more projects. She's a crazy tea lover, loves to travel, eat, and enjoys learning about different cultures. Authors she is inspired by are Sidney Sheldon, Nora Roberts and Jeffrey Archer. Hope you enjoy her books as greatly as she enjoyed producing them.

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