Kindle Adventures

I like to entertain myself by scrolling through kin lib, back to front, looking for gold in the form of "undiscovered" authors and titles.

(Kinlib.com is an up-to-the-minute list of all free Kindle books. Many of the books listed are always free, but many are free only one day. Today I started one, "Killing Down the Roman Line" by Tim McGregor. I'm only to chapter 3, so I don't know where McGregor's going with his plot, but holy moly - dude can write! I'll review it here when I finish it.)

Anyway . . . but sometimes I want to revisit a favorite writer - like checking in with an old friend, ya  know? And for several months, that "old friend" has been Tim Hallinan, because he hasn't disappointed me yet.

I just finished reading "The Man With No Time", from Hallinan's Simeon Grist series, and his streak continues - it's terrific. One of the many things I like about Hallinan is that he usually offers extras - in the present case, he has Grist mention that his favorite book is "The Dream of the Red Chamber" by Cao Xueqin.

And here's what I love about Kindle. As soon as that title was mentioned, I backed out of "The Man", went wi-fi, searched the Kindle store for "The Dream" and voila - several editions were listed. Found one for $.99, downloaded it, read the first chapter, realized if I went any farther I'd be hooked, and went back to finish "The Man".

Then I started "Killing Down the Roman Line" because the title was intriguing, and, like I said, McGregor is a very talented writer, so I guess I'll have to finish it before I get to "The Dream" . . .

Bleet. So many books, so little time . . .

L. T. Fawkes

COLD SLICE comes to Kindle

The first book of my mystery series Terry Saltz Mysteries, COLD SLICE, is now available on Kindle. $2.99). If you like funny fiction and compelling characters, give COLD SLICE a try. Here's the roll-out:

      I want to tell you a story. It’s a little story about friends, hard work, bad love, and murder. I’m a physical guy. I’m no writer. So getting this story on paper won’t be the easiest thing I’ve ever done. But I’m thinking, how hard can it be? What if I just rock back and fire, like you and me were sitting at my kitchen table having a cup of coffee, shooting the breeze?  I don’t see why that wouldn’t get the job done.

      Here’s me: Terry Saltz. Six-five. Twenty-six. Smart-ass. Long hair tied back with a piece of leather shoelace. Black mustache that tends to turn down at the ends. Plaid flannel shirts, and the elbows on most of them are threadbare or blown out altogether. Old faded jeans, and I didn’t buy ‘em that way. Work boots.

      I’m a carpenter. I build stuff. I like the smell of sawdust. Put me up in the air walking a beam with a hammer in my hand and my tool belt riding low, thumpin’ and bumpin’, and I’m a happy man. Yeah.

      My story started like this: Back in the early nineties I hit a rough patch. I guess I let some things pile up on me and I guess I wasn’t handling the stress or whatever. I got stoned and drunk in a bar one night, trashed the place, hit some guys, got arrested, pleaded guilty, and went to jail.

      Besides the jail time, I got a big old fine, about a bajillion hours of community service, and a shitload of probation. While I was in jail I lost my job, my wife, my truck, and my mobile home. Losing that truck was the part that hurt the most. It was the first vehicle I ever bought new. I loved that truck.

      I thought it was pretty much the end of the line for me. I was a busted, divorced, unemployed loser. Sitting in jail. The future looked like a big ugly brick wall.

L.T. Fawkes Reading Room

L. T. Fawkes Reading Room http://ltfawkes.com/ features fiction by writers from around the world, from short stories to complete novels. Here's an excerpt from Fillmore Rides Again:

“Heiress Gloria Dalrymple,” the mall hair girl breathed, charging at us.  She turned to stare at me. “And you’re . . . ”

“Not,” I said helpfully.

But she had turned her attention back to Gloria.  “What are you doing here?”

Gloria said, “We’re here for the big monkey festival.”

            Well, of course, there’s no such thing as a big monkey festival.  It was Gloria’s subtle way of telling the brassy girl to mind her own business. 

Wow. I came, I saw, I conquered the formatting and deformatting and reformatting, and the first three books of my new series The Fillmore Chronicles are now available on Kindle. Go to the Amazon Kindle Store and search on Fillmore to the Rescue, Fillmore Saves the Day, or Fillmore Rides Again. $2.99. 

Here's an excerpt from Chapter 1 of Fillmore to the Rescue:

“Any calls this morning, Fillmore?”

“No, Miss.”

“Emails?”

I don’t check my email every day.  Sometimes several days go by before I think to check my email.  So Fillmore checks my account regularly, along with his own, and keeps both humming.

He said, “One,” and delicately pushed the printout, which I had failed to notice when I came in, nearer my plate.

“Oh?  Who from?  Read it, would you?”

I sliced another bite of the crepe as he said, “It’s from Mrs. Vanderlay, Miss.”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise.  “Aunt Gazel?”   I moaned.  “Don’t tell me she’s discovered the net.”

“Apparently so, Miss.  You will remember that young Arthur, Jr. has been threatening to show her how to use her email . . . ”

“Please don’t mention that little mutant while I’m eating my breakfast.  Well, what news has the she-troll decided to share with us this morning?”

Even then, I didn’t sense the impending d.  I cringe now, remembering my careless, dismissive attitude.

He scanned the sheet of paper.  As if he hadn’t already read it.

“She’s coming to Arizona, Miss.  She wishes to be retrieved from the airport this afternoon.  Allow me, Miss.”  He stooped to retrieve the fork which had tumbled from my suddenly nerveless fingers.

“What?”

“She wishes . . . ”

“Not to stay with us . . . ”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Not this afternoon . . . ”

“Yes, Miss.  She wishes the periwinkle bedroom to be made ready.”

“Oh, no.”

If I didn’t actually shudder, I certainly felt like shuddering.

“Fillmore, are there any cigarettes in the house?”

“Miss?”

“Cigarettes.  You know, those little white – um – cigaretty things.”

“No, Miss.”

“Maybe a guest left a pack poolside and you grabbed it while you were cleaning up and absentmindedly stashed it in a drawer or something.”

He shook his head.

“There must be some cigarettes somewhere in the house.  Think, Fillmore.  I need a cigarette.”

“You don’t smoke, Miss.”

“I don’t?  I wish I did. 

Fillmore to the Rescue

             Fillmore turned as if he were about to leave the room.

            “Fillmore,” I said sharply.

            “Miss?”

            “How long would it take to make this place look deserted?  Have all the windows boarded up?  Weeds and scrub brush transplanted into the front yard?  Possibly a lot of litter - beer cans and fast food wrappers, that sort of thing -   strewn around the driveway.

            The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly.  In Fillmore’s world, that’s a hearty guffaw. “Would you like me to make arrangements for the additional staff, Miss?”

            I groaned.

FILLMORE TO THE RESCUE

THE FILLMORE CHRONICLES:  BOOK ONE

Now on Kindle - $4.99

Fillmore Rides Again

Clueless young heiress Melly Shrop says, "I don’t know your views on the subj, but I don’t like kids.  See me when you’ve got another decade or so under your belt, is my attitude.  Until then, don’t bother me.  No kids and no pets.  That’s my policy.  And I’ve learned the hard way that there’s no point in being kind to them.  Especially kids.  If you’re kind to them they’ll just attach themselves to you and drain you like vampire bats."

Read "Fillmore Rides Again" at L. T. Fawkes Reading Room, http://ltfawkes.com/

New Novel Excerpt

Just added Parts 1-6 of a gritty suspense novel by Fernando Paez. Go to L. T. Fawkes Reading Room at http://ltfawkes.com/ and look for The Swamp in the book titled Novel Excerpts.