Nancy S. Thompson Presents Against Orders: A Gripping Conspiracy Thriller - Watch for Next Book Coming Soon!

Before sitting down, I took a deep breath and shook out my hands as I paced Renaldo’s small work area. “Why are you so nervous?” I asked myself, then closed my eyes before answering, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because your father appears to be selling weapons of mass destruction to terrorists.” A bitter laugh erupted at the absurdity of the situation.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love my father. I truly did. But Dad was a control freak. I’d studied enough psychology in college to understand he had many of the classic criteria for Narcissistic Personality Disorder*, often considered the archetypal CEO signature, and, sadly, what makes them, and my father, so successful. Yet he was charming, enough to manipulate just about anyone into doing just about anything. If they didn’t comply, he’d humiliate them, without shame or remorse. He’d exploit every frailty to get what he wanted, and was proud of it, because he was successful and powerful and no one ever challenged him. He’d be called a sociopath if it weren’t for his ability to love. He genuinely cared for my mom and me. Yet I’d always believed there was someone in his past, someone special, unlike anyone before or since, someone he loved but lost. I asked him once after catching him with that wistful look on his face, and, for a moment, he looked like he might shed a tear, but he recovered and denied it. I even asked my mother, and her reaction was similar. Made me wonder if this woman who didn’t exist had anything to do with how my father had ultimately turned out. But while I loved him, I wasn’t willing to endure what my mom had, his need to dominate, control, and demand total loyalty. That became obvious with every crush I’d had since I was fifteen. But the captain was different. My father had chosen him for me. And he was someone my dad would envy for a number of reasons, his military service most notably. Dad admired the brave souls who served our country, so I understood his interest in the captain. Thinking back on the info I remembered concerning my new bodyguard, I became curious, as well. And who could resist talking about themselves when someone else was so interested, right? That could be my way in. But I had to be contrite first if he was ever to believe my regard was genuine. To that end, I went in search of the dashing Captain Esprit. No time like the present since I had no idea how susceptible he’d be or how long it might take to compromise him. Knowing how seriously he took his job, I chose his one day off to get the ball rolling. Since I knew nothing about his personal life, I started chatting with his detail backup, Cyril, a cheerful-looking fellow, and one of the few men Captain Esprit seemed to trust and like. “Cyril?” I said as he scouted the food court at the U-Dub’s Husky Den. “Yes, Miss Lasette?” he replied with a glance over his shoulder. “Would you mind sitting down with me? I’ll buy dinner, and we can eat while I ask your advice about something.” He nodded to his team member nearby, then said, “I’d be happy to. Let me secure a table. Go ahead and grab me a spinach salad. My wife says I need to eat better.” He patted his stomach, which was pretty damn lean for such a large man. I grabbed our food, paid, and joined Cyril in the far corner near an emergency exit. He helped unload the tray, but instead of digging in, he sat back in his chair and cracked a jovial smile, the white of his teeth in stark contrast to the smooth darkness of his skin. Though an intimidating giant, Cyril was gentle, kind, and soft-spoken, and I both liked and trusted him. “What’s on your mind, Miss Lasette?” he asked, his southern drawl smooth as honey. “Cyril, it’s been over a month. I hope you feel comfortable enough to use my given name.” He grinned. “Sure thing, Miss Reina. Now, what can I help you with?” I started in on my salad and motioned for him to do the same. It was easier to keep my attention on the food rather than meeting Cyril’s eyes. “It’s Captain Esprit.” “Ah, a very good man,” he said after swallowing a bite. “It’s no secret we haven’t gotten off on the best foot. Not that I blame him. As team leader, he’s been caught in the middle of my feud with my father.” I glanced at Cyril to gauge his reaction, but I saw no judgment. “I admit, I’ve been acting poorly, hoping the captain would reconsider and move on. It’s common knowledge I don’t want a security detail following my every move.” “But necessary, Miss Reina. There’re all kinds of crazies out there, jus’ waitin’ to stir up trouble, hear their names on the news, ‘specially when it comes to pol’tics. Your daddy’s a target now, which puts you at risk. Collateral damage. It’s the skipper’s job to see that doesn’t happen, and he takes it very seriously.” “I understand. And I want to trust him as much as you, my father, and the rest of my team. It’s just that…he’s more or less in charge of my life right now, and yet, I know so little about him. With all the tension between us, I doubt he’d open up if I asked. I just want to feel at ease about him, to know what kind of man he is. “The day I met Captain Esprit, my father told me a little about him, but I refused to listen, hoping I’d get my way and he’d back off. Now, I’m stuck in this position for at least the next year, feeling vulnerable to the one person sworn to protect me, all because I don’t know enough about him. Can you see how unnerving that is, to know nothing of the man who holds my life in his hands?” Cyril pushed the remains of his lunch aside and swiped a napkin across his lips, then rested his elbows on the table with his hands knotted together. “Sure, I guess I can understand that. So, what d’you wanna know?” “Anything. Everything. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing. I’m not asking for any deep, dark secrets. I just want to know the man better.” He relaxed back in his seat, and over the next hour, I learned about Captain Kynan Esprit’s past, his time in the Marines and the incidents behind many of his commendations. Then there were his years in the Secret Service and the scandal he was scapegoated for, all professional aspects easily confirmed with a little research, but nothing personal I could use. The captain and Cyril had met in the Corps, served together in Iraq, and grew close during Kynan’s last days there, then even more so after his discharge. While Cyril explained he couldn’t share any details—Top Secret, he said—he’d helped pull the captain out of a horrendous situation during his last mission. They considered their friendship sacred, to such a point he felt he couldn’t share much without permission. Frustrating, but I respected him for that. “Any advice on how to approach him?” I asked. “I don’t want to continue with this strained relationship. It’s too much work to constantly fight.” Cyril rested his warm fingers along my forearm. “Apologize, Miss Reina. And treat him with the dignity and respect he deserves. That’s all anyone wants really. The captain’s a good man. Honest. Hard-workin’. Give him a chance to prove it to you.” He ended with the kind smile I was so used to. “Thanks, Cyril, I will,” I said and paused. “In fact…I’d like to get started right away. Do you know where he is?” “On a Thursday night? Probably down at Kells.” “That Irish pub in Post Alley?” “The very one.” I wiggled my brow. “You know, I haven’t been down to Pike Place in months. Care for a little sightseeing?” “Oh, Miss Reina, that whole area down there’s a zoo of tourists.” “Better bring Felix then. Come on, let’s go.”

“It was kind of…musical, don’t you think?” I said. He snorted then turned onto his side and ran his finger across my cheek. “A virtual symphony.” He leaned in and kissed me like we’d been reunited after a long separation then laid his head back down and stared into my eyes. “I could make music with you forever, Reina.” I sucked in a short breath. “What does that mean?” “I think you know.” “Maybe, but you should tell me anyway…just to be perfectly clear, so we’re on the same page of sheet music…so to speak.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he continued to gaze at me. “I might not have an extensive history in the romance department, but I think what I’m feeling is…love.”

First, be prepared to get to know our main character in the worst ways possible, as he goes through trauma that many soldiers receive during "service" to our country... Because this book proves that when you are trying to act in an honorable way to fulfill your duties, you may find that strictly following orders will place unbelievable stress on a man...who...cares...

Take, for instance, a Captain who is just finishing out and clearing his unit when he hears a young girl screaming and then sees her being dragged into a hut. Most good guys would immediately act to help. Yet it would be against orders... Worse, when he notifies his best friend who is also leading the evacuation, he talks him into helping... It was the time when terrorists were known for killing the enemy by beheading... Yes, that was done while the Captain was also being beaten...

The second job was in Secret Service back home, but as he learned about what he would be doing, he was also being told that what he had done on his last mission--disobeying orders and the results--he learned that he would be watched carefully when handling anything in the future... So that when, a 7-year-old daughter of the vice-resident had specifically asked for him to be part of her guard instead of another man she really didn't like, for several reasons, it was approved, with conditions... But, what do you do with a young girl who obviously has turned to you in complete trust to keep her safe... and then have her kidnapped when there were rumors about inappropriate connection...and her mother had refused to have him around her? Again, the Captain disobeyed orders and ran to the location where the little girl was last seen, considered the methods he had trained her to ensure she could be safe when he wasn't there... and immediately went to where he thought she might be... Only to have her come out to face a gunman aiming at her... Another death, but it wasn't his charge... He killed the man who had been aiming his gun...

Some might say that it was because of his excellent work in saving the little girl that he was once again reassigned. The Captain wasn't too sure about that. This time a presidential candidate wanted him on duty as his daughter's personal guard. Only thing was, she was 28, absolutely did not want a guard following her, and the Captain decided she was a rich snob and that he was once against stucked with a penalty...

This time the Captain was prepared and he set the rules, one of which would be that he would choose his guard team, but knew that he would be walking a tight rope as it was well known that there would be many who would look to the family of a presidential candidate as a potential source of leverage... Which did happen... Her father then decided to send them to a location far away and well guarded to live until after the election... Needless to say that the daughter was quite upset, had bad memories of that location, and was angry she had no control over her own life... But she had begun to trust the Captain... Because, of course, when two people are located where few people would be, that could lead to...

But while the personal lives of Captain Esprit and Miss Lassette were forced into being through the political campaign of her father, readers will watch as, in the background, questionable political decisions begin to be taken surrounding the Captain... Were these actions to control his life so that he'd be forced to do whatever he was assigned to do? Or, as often occurs, were those actually involved in criminal activities, the type that felt that nobody was smart enough to realize what was actually happening?

The Captain was already thinking of conspiracies. But it wasn't until the relocation to Spain occurred, and there was so much free time, that exploration of all of the buildings, including what was called a shed, but which was actually filled with both valuables as well as records, that the two, who had now become friends, leading to more, got busy going through those records and discovering that, perhaps, the candidate for the presidency was involved in major criminal deals that could lead to future danger for the world...

Folks, I even had to check to see when this book was published (2024). For me, and perhaps actually intended to do so by the author, the fact that this turned out to be a political thriller was, in my mind, too familiar and followed closely the reality we've been horrified by for the past decade. Was in coincidentally that actions, such as blackmail, lies, subordinates being forced to act based on authority of their boss(es)? The only salvation was that a hero and a concerned daughter came together to learn more about what was actually happening; and, consequently to fall in love...

As the book moves forwarded all of the bad actors are revealed who were either bad guys or who have been forced by blackmail to do things they didn't plan to do, for the sake of...greed by the true leader. Action becomes fast and dangerous as individuals are after both the Captain and the presidntial candidate's daughter... One bright spot was that the Captail was able to call upon his fellow marines who had rescued him during that last mission, and readers can watch as loyalty, earned and not demanded, is the basis of true leadership... 

I got so caught up matching fiction with reality that I immediately downloaded the next book... So watch for my thought on what happens then! This "could" be a must-read for those who need to really understand just how corruption can indeed occur within our government...

GABixlerReviews

The Rat Pack Investigated in CNN's Jake Tapper Political Fun Farce...The Devil May Dance 2nd Book With Charlie and Margaret Marder

 

Ahead, the members of the Rat Pack and their hangers-on were oblivious to the Marders’ concerns; they were soaked in bourbon, singing, laughing, and loudly gossiping about ghosts as they stumbled around the graveyard. Charlie and Margaret could make out pieces of their conversations. 

There goes Wallace Beery. He won an Oscar too, Frank! Remember he and a couple mobsters beat that guy to death at the Troc? 

Suzan Ball. Lucille’s cousin. Twenty-one? Cancer. Bit parts. Aladdin and His Lamp. 

Here’s the Garden of Memory. Some reverence, folks, Bogie is over there. Bogart, Sinatra’s hero, was credited with coining the term Rat Pack to describe an altogether different group of friends, but both the term and Bogie’s beloved Lauren Bacall had been posthumously co-opted by his protégé Sinatra. 

Charlie and Margaret headed back, and the snatches of conversation soon grew too distant for them to hear. They made their way over the hills on narrow paved roads to the parking lot. The others held their breath. Above them hung a half-moon, about which Sinatra started to sing: Something, something, man in the moon something, something, baboon, something, something swoon… Everyone exhaled; the wind had blown his dark mood away with the clouds.

 Lawford led the pack in a charge up the hill as Martin sang a song mocking the very young girlfriend of Sinatra’s rival Elvis Presley. “Are you lonesome tonight?” he crooned. “Are you horny tonight? Have you reached puberty yet, my dear girl?” Sinatra cackled. He’d hosted the television special Welcome Home, Elvis, after Presley’s discharge from the army, but Sinatra made no secret of the fact that he found most rock and roll deplorable; he thought the music was written and performed by cretinous goons, and Presley was the gooniest of them all. 

Charlie and Margaret walked slowly, bringing up the rear. Margaret sighed, seeming annoyed. “Stop pretending that this isn’t a little cool,” Charlie said, indicating the scene—they were hanging with icons of the zeitgeist, boozing in a celebrity graveyard in the middle of the night. 

“Ring-a-ding-ding,” said Margaret dryly. The crack of a gunshot echoed across the grass. It took Charlie and Margaret a moment to make out what was going on: Davis was firing Fat Tony’s gun at a grave. Or, more precisely, at the sculpted angel on top of a crypt. “What th—” said Margaret, poking Charlie in the ribs. 

“I think ‘Who the’ is more like it,” Lawford said to Margaret. “Doyle, the guy buried there, was a producer who screwed Sammy back when he was touring the country on the Chitlin’ Circuit with his dad and uncle.” Charlie looked at the crypt. He didn’t recognize the name. Davis yelled, “Son of a bitch!” as he fired off another round. The angel’s head exploded. “There ya go, Smoky!” Martin cheered. He ashed his cigarette on a freshly dug grave, then took a swig from a paper cup. “I’m not done yet,” Davis said, pulling the trigger once more. The blast hit the cherub in the crotch, shattering the statue. One of the pieces of concrete clipped Charlie. 

“Oof,” he said, grabbing his shoulder. 

“Honey!” Margaret cried. “I’m fine,” he said, rubbing the bruise. “Oh, man,” Davis said. “I am so, so sorry.” Davis was soused but clearly concerned. He made his way precariously toward Charlie, wobbly and contrite. The singer was a wee man, not even five foot five, all bone and sinew, maybe ninety pounds dressed for winter. 

“It’s nothing,” Charlie said.

Earlier, Margaret, the ever-prepared former Girl Scout, had stashed the small first-aid kit she brought with her on all family excursions in the trunk of their rented white 1962 Impala convertible. 

“We’re missing all the fun,” Charlie said as a gunshot followed by the pop of an exploding light bulb cracked in the distance. “I’m really fine, honey.” 

“Sure sounds like fun,” Margaret said as she held out her hand for the keys. Charlie reluctantly produced them. She inserted the key and opened the trunk while Charlie looked to the hills, where the echoes of crooning and guffaws sounded almost like local wildlife.  

“Yumpin’ Yiminy, now it’s a clambake!” yelled Sinatra. “More booze!” Another bottle materialized as the pack continued its run through the cemetery, minus Giancana and Fat Tony, who’d turned to walk back to their car. 

Charlie and Margaret stayed in place, leaning on a thick, slightly cracked tombstone. “Irish exit,” Charlie said, motioning toward the departing mobsters.

Then Margaret screamed. From the gauzy illumination of a distant streetlamp, Charlie saw the shape in the trunk, a big shape. It was a body. Charlie stepped closer. He recognized the face, as did Margaret, who turned away. He looked with horror at the woman that they’d last seen days before and that he’d seen quite a bit of in the past few weeks. Her eyes were two bloody caverns; they must have been shot out. There was some brain and bone residue in the trunk but not enough to suggest she had been shot there. Her mouth was agape, her jaw helplessly, horrifically slack. Charlie and Margaret stood frozen until the sudden arrival of the Rat Pack, who apparently had raced over in response to Margaret’s shriek. 

Sinatra looked into the trunk. “Charlie,” he said. “Just what the hell have you done?”

In the past few years Margaret was often reminded of the army’s slogan that “every man has his breaking point.” She was constantly looking for ways to prevent Charlie from reaching his. Whatever the doctors were labeling it, combat exhaustion or combat neurosis or battle fatigue, Margaret knew it would be with him forever. Beyond that, his life in Congress, where he’d been for almost a decade now, was infinitely frustrating—accomplishing anything good required Sisyphean efforts, while ethical compromises were everywhere. And at some point along the way, Charlie found that the constant fundraising and glad-handing to stay in office for his New York constituents had begun to eclipse the work itself...

After the heavy and complex first book, Tapper took a lighter theme to close out the political life of Charlie and Margaret Marder. I call it a farce, even though some of it might be true. A decade had passed and Margaret was constantly watching how Charlie was dealing with the pressure, and, even though Charlie was trying to hide it from her, his increasing need to use alcohol to keep him going.

So when another favor was requested, which involved the simple task of being a consultant on an upcoming movie, both seemed to think it was a good way to fill up time between sessions and maybe do a little vacationing... The Movie was called "The Manchurian Candidate" and Sinatra was to play the lead...

The  Favor: The Kennedy  Family wanted to know just how close and involved Sinatra was to the Mob! And  would his involvement with the presidential candidate be a burden or a good thing...

So Charlie and Margaret were often at the set while the film was being made, with Charlie giving his feedback related to what happens in particular political-related scenes...

And for the rest of the time, Charlie was spending lots of time enjoying the partying that always seemed to be going on... Even when he was at a party, without Margaret, he enjoyed himself, except he was soon placed into another situation when one of the beauties that always was around wound up in the hot tub with Charlie...and a picture was snapped! Fear of its going public was bad enough, but when the girl was found in Charlie's car trunk, he was once again afraid--afraid he was guilty of murder and would spend the rest of the days in prison for a crime he didn't remember, but could have(?) done... Finally, drinking so much, Margaret got involved and Charlie shared it all!

In the meantime, Frank was making changes to his home, doing everything possible to ensure Jack Kennedy's comfort and all that he could possibly need when visiting with his friend, Frank...

[Talking with Robert] Charlie had to smile at the excess. “You don’t want the president to stay there?” Throughout the 1960 election, Sinatra and the Rat Pack had gone all in for Kennedy, and the campaign had been only too happy to capitalize on the fame, the glamour, the money. Sinatra had even rerecorded his Oscar-winning song “High Hopes,” written by Sinatra songmeister Jimmy Van Heusen, with new lyrics: Everyone is voting for Jack ’Cause he’s got what all the rest lack Everyone wants to back—Jack Jack is on the right track! 

As if reading Charlie’s mind, Kennedy shrugged. “When I started at Justice, an agent asked me how he could be expected to go after Mob bosses when my brother’s most famous supporter is paisans with a bunch of them. I took his point. Unfortunately, the FBI doesn’t have any evidence supporting the rumors that Frank is mobbed up, but now he shows up in this wiretap.”

In fact, the majority of the book is in casual settings with various members of the Rat Pack, partying... So, here's some of the music at those times...

“Our crew’s in the back,” Lawford said, pointing. Live jazz played in one of the rooms; the Daisy had so many, it was hard to keep track. Charlie recognized the tune: “Pfrancing,” from Someday My Prince Will Come. He polished off his bourbon in one gulp and began to lose himself in the tempo and the strutting trumpet solo, which sounded to him like a man crying. “It’s like Miles Davis himself is here,” Margaret said. She was trying to keep cool, but she had her hand on his arm, and he could tell she was a bit thrilled. They followed Lawford through the crowd of stars, ogling in every direction...

“Congressman, this one is a keeper,” Sinatra said, pointing at Margaret. “C’mon! Let’s get some swinging music going in here!” He raised his glass and held it up to Margaret. From the speakers came a rapid race of trumpets and trombones, soon interrupted by Sinatra’s voice singing an old Mexican song from the 1930s that he’d covered in May and released on Swing Along with Me in June. Granada, I’m falling under your spell And if you could speak, what a fascinating tale you would tell…

“Sure looks like him from here,” Charlie said. He pushed his chair back from their tiny square table (dinner and two-drink minimum, $5.95 per person, not a room for people without some means). “I’m going to go over there and check it out.” “You sure that’s a good idea?” Margaret asked. “No, but I suspect a middle-aged white guy will blend better at this stag party than either of you.” “Point, Charlie,” said Street. “What is this thing called love?” Sinatra sang. Onstage, he and Martin slouched on stools, drinks in hand. “Frank, if you don’t know, then we’re all in trouble,” Martin quipped. Then, in a singsongy voice: “Did you ever see a Jew-jitsu?” “I did,” Sinatra responded, raising his hand. Davis, who had considered himself a Jew since the 1950s and had formally converted earlier this year, ran onto the stage in mock offense. “Be fair!” Davis barked at Martin as Sinatra pretended to hold him back.

Charlie’s heart sank as he again imagined his once indomitable father alone and hopeless. “We need to get something to the AG about—” He gestured toward Sinatra, who was in the midst of the intro to “Luck Be a Lady.” “They won’t even let Charlie talk tohim on the phone,” Margaret said. “They really seem to relish being bastards, the Kennedys,” Charlie said. “The good news is, the prison doctors told me they don’t think it was a heart attack after all.” “If it wasn’t a heart attack, then what was it?” Street asked. “I don’t know; they don’t know,” Charlie said. “Nothing life-threatening, they don’t think. They also ruled out a stroke. But he isn’t talking.” They all sat sadly at the table. “Why is he at the Tombs anyway—isn’t that a city jail?” Street asked. “Feds have a wing,” Charlie said. “And the AG gets a lot of leeway.”

By the Way, there is no song, "The Devil May Dance"--it was a title created by the author...

Charlie and Margaret, ten years from the first possible death sentence for Charlie are also worried about his father who was arrested and Charlie has not been able to visit. Stress grows and it was time to take the offense and find out exactly what was going on! Politics always seems to be...messy...doesn't it? Me, I enjoyed the music more than anything. I found, even though they were all friends, I was offended by the racial slurs constantly in their comedy... But then, I'm not much for comedy at the expense of...anybody... Guess my empathy gets in the way...

I enjoyed this much more than the first book, simply because of the setting. Sure the mob was there in many scenes, but it didn't necessarily seem like they were involved politically, even though that was the purpose of Charlie and Margaret's involvement. Have to admit that I was more impressed with Margaret as a character. She was a strong woman who still loved her husband, even though he was not doing well in dealing with the politics of, seemingly, every part of their life... But the ending was satisfactory, if not thrilling or spectacular... From a historical perspective, it was indeed a trip back into the 50s, with The Rat Pack leading in bringing music into so much of the book! It's worth my recommendation for you to check it out!

In the meantime, I'd like to share a little bit of the words directly from the author, Jack Tapper, about today's political division...

A personal note: 

I know many of you don't have the time I have to follow what is happening, by watching multiple sites for news information. At the same time, I must point out that it is only through Americans themselves that we can...and hopefully will...maintain our democracy. Right now, I have decided to go to the polls on May 17th, the day before I go in for hip surgery, BECAUSE I DON'T TRUST WHAT THE REPUBLICANS HAVE DONE AND MAY DO TO PREVENT MAIL BALLOTS FROM BEING CORRECTLY COUNTED.  

We all saw Trump's Big Lie that the presidential election was not real...that it was a big lie! And republicans are doing everything to change or manipulate voting activities to try to again force questions regarding who wins in the primaries! YOU must help ensure that our democracy--the privilege to vote, is not made into a farce once again... lies controlled by the republican party that is infecting our nation... 

Book Readers Heaven will do all that it can to share the truth. I care little about politics, as my comments on Tapper's two books have shown. I do care about the rights of ALL PEOPLE TO BE EQUAL... 

Will you help me? SEARCH OUT THE TRUTH ABOUT YOUR CANDIDATES...

SEARCH OUT THE TRUTH ABOUT WHAT IS BEING TAUGHT IN SCHOOLS...DO NOT LISTEN TO REPUBLICAN CANDIDATES THAT ARE LYING TO INCITE AGAINST MISINFORMATION AND/OR making OUTRIGHT LIES!

REMEMBER IF REPUBLICANS SUCCEED IN BANNING ALL THE BOOKS THAT THEY WANT TO, THEN RECOGNIZE THAT ONLY WHITE MALE REPUBLICANS WILL BE TOTALLY HAPPY... and Free...

That is not what Democracy is or was in America... Please do everything you can to learn who speaks truth and responds to our constitutional rights in all ways...

Meet Dex! A Middle-School Chef! By Sheri Lynn Fishbach...

Looking at all the ingredients he had lined up for today's menu made Dex feel better. There was just no way to look at a ripe, red tomato without smiling. If was an example of nature's perfection and he knew how to show it the respect it deserved. He looked at the clock and grimaced, realizing he was running behind schedule...He took a try of piping hot cookies out of the oven and Marla snatched one. She sat down at the kitchen table, careful not to get in his way. There was a very big wheelbarrow in the middle of the kitchen, but Dex was used to working around it. He had no choice. It was his portable restaurant. The wheelbarrow didn't slow him down a bit. Marla was as unfazed by the wheelbarrow as was her son.

"A lot of orders today," Marla said, looking around the kitchen. "Is something special going on?" She didn't seem particularly interested. Most of her attention was being given to carefully rolling off her beauty gloves.

"Not really, I think people are telling people, that's all."

"That's the way any good business starts." Marta took a bite of her cookie. "It's word of mouth," she said as she took another bite, "And in a word--outstanding!"

Dex looked at his mother appreciatively. Growing up in a restaurant had made her a tough critic. If something didn't taste right she wasn't shy about making her pinion known and whether he liked it or not, she was usually right. He took both jalapeno raisin cookies and wasabi tuna parmesan subs off his debut menu when she said they tasted like hot, smelly feet. Come combinations, he was learning, sounded better in theory than in practice...

~~~

If you are one of those kids or teens that love food and food shows, as the book cover says, I guarantee that you are going to enjoy meeting Dex! I've been told that the book is part of a package now being developed which includes a screenplay, a TV pilot, and a title track song... Plans call for celebrity chefs in a variety of roles will be involved... But let's first get to know Dex and what he's been doing thus far in his life...

Dex was fortunate to be a member of a family who owned a restaurant and, of course, everybody was involved in some way... At the age of four, he was right there in the kitchen with his Poppy who patiently talked with him and guided him in learning how to do things there in the kitchen... I can just imagine his young thinking--I'm hungry. What sounds good to eat? And experimenting with food combinations until he found what was quite delicious!

If only Dex would have been there the day that everything changed. But nobody even knew that it had until years later... There had been a theft there in the kitchen...The theft of a very important recipe that had been developed by Poppy himself...

Poppy had since died and his grandmother was trying to hold on to the restaurant, although she had not shared the financial problems with the rest of the family... Dex was in middle school, already industriously working at his chosen career - Chef... 

To start, he'd begun a gourmet lunch menu that he sold out of a wheelbarrow on his lawn.  He got up early every morning, made everything he needed for the day, and had it made, and sold, before he headed to school! His customers came in by car, bus and he also had standing orders for many of them... He was succeeding and becoming more well known...

But Dex wasn't a success at school--at least in the areas that counted to him! He had a serious crush on a young lady, Sarah, who was now involved with a jock, with muscles...That's all Dex could think about--if he just had some muscles, so he was saving his money from his food sales to buy an expensive machine to help! 

Until then, he spent most of his time with two friends, Kyle and Liza and soon Lisa brings Jordy into the group... All of them love Dex's food and help whenever needed, especially Kyle... When Dex and Sarah was paired in their cooking class, it was at least the beginning... and the beginning led to Sarah, in an emergency, asking Dex to fill in to handle the stir fry table at her Bat-mitzah... Since I'd never been to a Bat-mitzah, I checked out what it was like...

So instead of being a guest, Dex was working...cooking for the crowd that was attending Sarah's special event. Ahhhh, but a man was attending that event and saw that Dex was drawing a crowd of people as he was responding to their food requests! And he liked what he saw! And the rest, of course, is history, since Dex was next offered his own network TV show!

Exciting yes, but Dex was extremely nervous, so he scheduled a rehearsal with his friends at home so that he could get used to an audience...

Dex stood behind the kitchen counter assembling a line of ingredients and utensils. His rehearsal had to be authentic and he knew cooking shows always had than kind of stuff prepared in advance. That was the secret behind a meal made on TV being ready to serve in a half hour. Dex knew that with all the chopping and measuring he needed to do, he would have to add on at least another half hour. 
The only thing he decided to save for his audience was the chopping. He knew people liked to watch a chef dice onions, grate ginger, and smash garlic. Maybe it was the speed and precision, or maybe they were waiting to see a professional make a mistake. He had to admit when Geema forced him to watch figure-skating, he counted on someone doing a butt-flop.
But that wasn't going to happen to him. There would be no flopping of any kind. He had gone over the recipe a dozen times and he was more than ready to cook...
"What's she doing here?"
"You like her. I invited her." Liza smirked and gave Dex a little pinch on the cheek. "You can thank me later, doughboy."
"I will," Dex groaned, with a nervous smile. He walked behind the counter and took a few deep breaths hoping to quiet what felt like an octopus clawing at his gut. Just start, he murmured to himself. Pick up a spoon, an onion, grate some garlic; do anything but stare at Sarah...
"Meatballs!" he shouted, realizing his little misstep. After a moment of hyperventilation, he continued. "Let's go back to the sauce," he said, regaining composure. "Now when you make tomato sauce, be sure to use the right utensils. I've got my own favorite wooden spoon, right here. My Poppy gave it to me."
Dex lowered the spoon toward the pot, but a surge of hot steam burned his fingers. "OW!" he yelped, letting go.
The spoon plopped into the boiling pot, and red hot tomato sauce splattered all over the counter and his apron. Dex did a pained dance as some of the burning sauce hit his head, and he smacked himself a few times to get it off. Jordy couldn't contain his laughter and Liza punched him on the arm...
"I can't do this!" Dex pounded his fists on the counter...
~~~

Then he had his first successful show on TV! And that's when the trouble started! The villain of the story appears and starts a campaign to sabotage Dex... and when it still wasn't going right, Dex was blackmailed to sabotage himself!

I've got to admit, I'm not much of a cook, so I was learning about some really strange menu options in this book. You may even want to try some of them, although there are no recipes for readers. But, really, that's not the purpose of this book. Readers are meeting Dex, learning of his expertise, and solving a long-ago mystery that has led to the financial problems that are plaguing the family now. Will they lose their restaurant, what you might call Dex's inheritance--his future sometime when he's older? 

You might have guessed it, but there's a lot of humor throughout the book, some laugh out loud, especially as Dex meets his problems at school... There is a great side story as Dex's sister begins school and complicates matters for Dex, as she decides to make Dex her film project...along with finding herself a nice young man! Another word about the characters. I was pleased to find many different friends for Dex who showed true caring and loyalty to each other. The book definitely is a great example for middle-school and older students, as well as a fantastic introduction of the possible love of cooking that children may find with Dex as their mentor...Dex was even being asked to autograph frying pans! Cool, right?!

Do check this book out for your children in grades 7 and above, although personally, I think some children who are interested in cooking already, even with lower reading skills at this time, could easily find enjoying the book with parents reading along! Highly recommended...

And by the way, on New Year's Eve when everything was over, Dex was right there, doing what he dreamed of doing when the clock struck midnight... Loved it!

GABixlerReviews

Sheri Lynn Fishbach is a New York-based writer and editor who has just published her first novel, DEX, based on her screenplay and TV pilot of the same title. Over the years, Sheri has contributed to local, regional, and national publications including Gannett's the Journal News, the Jewish Reporter, Steppin’ Out, Psychology Tomorrow, and the New York Times network of newspapers. Sheri holds a B.A. in History from SUNY Binghamton, an M.A. in English Education from Brooklyn College, and is a Meisner-trained actress. She has performed in various regional productions and has been a featured voice in local commercials and audiobooks. Sheri has completed several screenplays and two yet-to-be published novels based on her screenplays entitled Lovelines, and her latest, The Plane Truth. A lover of badinage, find her on Facebook for a spirited exchange.

Patchwork People by D. B. Martin Amazing Second Novel in Trilogy!

The black hole engulfed me. With no
love there could be no Kat--like there
had been no Margaret. Whatever
Margaret might have offered me, I
hadn't had the eyes to see it or the will
to accept it...

Murder, blackmail and incest -
what better way for a middle-aged
barrister to start the day?
Tipped for the top, but
anticipating the fall...
!!!

...That was the crux of it. Not blindness to potential danger, or lack of maternal concern. I was angry because of what she'd done to my childhood. She'd taken it away from me. If she'd turned into a 20th century Einstein or Florence Nightingale, my ejection would have had meaning--logic. Nurture the best at the expense of the worst. As it was it had no sense and no recompense. She was the root cause of all the troubles now sprouting like weeds around me. Bloody bitch. Bloody useless bitch! She should have never been born, never existed at all, even as an atom of a strange of chromosomes waiting to line up with their pair.
But then Danny wouldn't have existed either.
And I disgusted myself.
The brandy in the study called but I steadfastly remained where I was. Too easy to lose myself in that, and losing myself wasn't the way to find solutions, or to deal with what was. Face it. You feel nothing for her; you hate her. She was your sister, kith and kin, flesh and bone, blood and body, and you hate her. Even dead, you hate her because she has left you a lasting legacy--it not a living child, a lost past. One you can never change, never hide, never ultimately deny. You were abandoned and never reclaimed. You lived your childhood out in a children's home where your soul was abused as cruelly as your body, and that's why you can feel no remorse, no regret, no pity--nor love. It doesn't exist in you.


Patchwork People

By D. B. Martin

The second novel in Martin's Trilogy got even more exciting...and twisted! This family drama makes one of the best psychological suspense books I've read...Do read my review of the first book if you haven't already, but Martin spends a few chapters in the second book to also help bring readers up to date. But honestly, reading the first book makes a better introduction about the mire into which readers will be taken in Patchwork People. If you love this genre as much as I do, then consider this a must-read...

The newspaper had nudged
the card up against the
portrait shot of Margaret
that still adorned my desk
for appearances' sake. The
card was identical to the ones
I'd had sent out as invitations
to her funeral tomorrow. She
smile ingenuously back at me.
RIP - gone but hardly forgotten
the tricky little bitch...
~~~

I found I had great sympathy and empathy for the main character Lawrence Juste. He's a Queen Counsel of the Bar of England and has, or had, aspirations for a promotion. But that was before... Before his wife was killed in an accident. Before he was on a case for a young boy. Before he was attracted to the boy's social worker and succumbed to his desires. Before his family from whom he'd been estranged came out of the woodwork...

"Are we really in trouble?"
"It wouldn't take much. We
certainly can't have any
more unplanned expense.
Francis may be out of action
for some time so his income
stream will be nil, and he'll
need his account reserve
to cover him whilst he's not
working, but Jeremy must
have been bleeding us for
months so it's virtually
non-existent. You and I may
end up having to bankroll
him if he's off for too long.
Jeremy's broke--although
at least that may make him
stay home alone for a while,
and you are about to commit
professional suicide if you're
not bloody careful. I'm just
stuck in the middle of it all."
~~~

And then there was the fact that his legal firm was failing and he was accused of emptying the main account! By using his wife's card... Heather, one of his partners was quick to step in and call him on it, but after they had talked and he explained what was happening, she agreed to help, but not without making sure she knew exactly what was happening at all times, even trying to use her niece as one of his guards...LOL... That didn't last long, even though she had suggested if he had to, to sleep with her rather than "the little social worker..."  

"That bully is related to a judge who
provided me with the money to study
for the bar in the first place--as long as
I don't discredit him in any way. If I do,
the terms of his will enforce repayment
with compound interest over thirty years.
Move over Jeremy--I'll be bankrupt too."
I didn't tell Heather the reason he'd
provided me with it--she might be hard-
nosed and pointy-toed in her Manolo
Blahniks, but she was also squeamish -
and a homophobe. "But John Wemmick
isn't owning up to the connection.
Now, I could make it public, but then
I would be forcing his hand without
knowing why he's keeping it secret,
and that may open up another can of
worms, with me potentially one of
them."
"Wriggling like bait on a hook."
~~~

It was Danny who was the only one who seemed "regular" people. You know what I mean... he said what he wanted to say and didn't hold back, unless he was afraid... He had, strangely, wound up in Lawrence's heart and Danny was soon the primary issue as he was trying to wade through all that was happening...

Especially, when Danny's mother was murdered. in Lawrence's house! Danny's mother? Lawrence's sister! The one he hated. 

I picked the phone up and put it straight back down. My stomach churned when I started to put together the words
and sentiments to walk the fine line I was going to have to
balance on with Kat. I already had one set of secrets
hidden from her - the possibility of being Danny's father.
I didn't add incestuously - but there it was, eating away a
home in my brain for my integrity to fall through. Now I
would also have to somehow keep from her the fact that she would be a secret herself. After our conversation at the
hospital when we first found out about Danny's
haemophilia, it had been clear she might want more than
a brief affair - a lot more. And so she should.
!!!

Because she had been picked to stay with the family, while Lawrence went into a home where everything terrible that could happen...did...

To make things even worse, he was now routinely receiving incriminating notes, warning him that it was coming soon...

The rat has had its day in court, but now the piper wants to be paid - like with all good business transactions. Honour amongst thieves, Lawrence. I'll be in touch soon. J

A spooky thing about these notes were that they were written on the funeral cards that he'd used for his wife's funeral notification! Immediately he decided that J was for his long-term enemy from school years who, wanted the money back that his father had once given to Lawrence...

But before long, there was a fire in his home, arson, and Lawrence was confused since he now had no way to even consider giving any portion of that money back. Still somebody was blackmailing him and there were certainly a few things in his past that, if they came out, could ruin his future...

And then there is Win, his oldest brother, who had been one of the boys who had started everything when he was young, had a working connection with Jiggers but who also seemed to be trying to bring the family back together, even though Lawrence couldn't really trust him.

"So who was the real murderer?'
"I dunno, but I can guess. Ask Molly - Margaret, whatever you want to call her."
"I can't, she'd dead."
"Yeah, and probably best left that way. No-one else gets hurt then."
It was inappropriate anywhere now she was dead, but infinitely so on the scene of a murder case over ten years old. But there it was - and that made Margaret a candidate for murderer too. I pulled the photo from the run of papers and forced myself to study it properly despite the mental recoil from what it represented. I needed to get used to facing unpleasant facts without repulsion if I was going to get to the truth--a truth which, no doubt was going to be far from pleasant however it panned out...

~~~

Lawrence Juste, a man who changed his name to rid himself of any connection to his former family and his tormented past, is now being forced to not only face his past but see's his present life unfolding patch by patch as pieces are torn a piece at a time from his mind. Will he be able to become the professional he has been trained to be, exclude his emotional upheavals that are hitting one right after the other, to save himself, his firm, his career--and maybe heal some of the wounds with the family members who seem to be willing to accept him back into their lives? What I can tell you is that it can only get worse before it gets better--if it does, that is... 

Kat has now proven to be patched in to the police, having turned over evidence she had promised him to keep... His older sister has died and it was only by accident that he chose to visit her that day...and received the box she had left for him, only to have it burned in his house fire...

Deeper and Deeper and Deeper. The whole book is a tantalizing tease for readers to pick apart, one patch, one color at a time. Will anybody remain once too many patches have been removed. Let me put it this way...Here's one reader who can't wait to see how this Trilogy finishes! Brilliant illustration of the psychology of people and how our minds can both conceal, reveal...and hide, even from ourselves... Amazing Novel!

GABixlerReviews

D. B. Martin - Author

A Note from BRH...The copy I received was the UK version. As soon as I saw it, I thought of the beauty of body painting. So even though the US version was changed, I decided to use what I had picked out...Hope you enjoy since they complement the patchwork effect of all of us, don't you think?

Was it Real? Or Just a Game? Either Way Reckless Disregard MUST Be Proven...By Robert Rotstein...Loved It!

"I'm Felicity, and this is my story." Her
voice is singsong, kind of like a canary.
It's a story of love and betrayal. And blood.
My blood."
With her head still facing the viewer, she turns her
body sideways and rests her right forearm on the bar,
her green eyes narrowing to sultry slits.

By Robert Rotstein
Author of Corrupt Practices

Reckless Disregard

A Parker Stern Novel

""Did you ever get lost? So lost you can't find
your way our of the darkness? I did. One day..."
She sits up with a start, places an index finger to
her lower lip, and shakes her head vigorously,
each computer-generated dreadlock swaying
swaying in perfect rhythm to her movements.
Nobody but Poniard can make a game seem so real.

"That's sooo wrong," she says in her flury voice. "That's what they want you to think. But it's a lie. I didn't get lost at all. I was taken. Abducted by William the Conqueror and his band of thugs. You see, in this game, you not only know what the crime was, you know who committed it. But this game's not over. It's just beginning. All you have to do is find out how it all happened. Easy, huh? Hardly. An unattainable goal, because you can't rescue me. But there's an answer to what happened to me, I assure you. Let me show you something."

Felicity sits in a booth alone, sipping a glass of amber liquid. Everything in the scene is old fashioned. Felicity's hair, auburn now, is piled on top of her head. She wears a black jacket over a tight black dress. The scene starts with a classic rock song, Money for Nothing. He knows from an Internet search that the song must have happened in the eighties, a clue. One of the things that make Poniard's games so hard to beat is that you often have to get outside knowledge to advance from level to level...

~~~

The game is far from over! And if you have no or little experience playing videos, fortunately there are various characters, such as the 10-year-old boy, Brighton, that's playing as the book opens... Even more of importance, he wounds up playing a great part as the book is ending...but that's quite a bit further! If you're wondering why so much time is spent on the games, well that's the basis upon which the legal case is taking place!

The game, Abduction, has been created by a well-known, established gamer who goes by the handle Poniard,,, The villain is the character called William the Conqueror... It is an actual nickname that is known for an extremely wealth movie mogul,

He is not happy! He has filed suit against Poniard...

I've spent the last twenty-five years trying to keep
this secret. My celebrity almost ruined me, and I
don't want it back, not even a vestige of it. I'm a
lawyer...I closely guard the truth about my past
and have kept it secret through luck and hard work
mostly luck...
~~~

Hopefully you read the opening novel of this series, starring Parker Stern (Click above to read my review if not). I can guarantee there is no overlap in this one! Whew, it is so complex and amazingly drawn together that you might think you are actually playing the game and can't get past the first level!

When you do it, though, you'll definitely know it because letters start flying right outside the game scene!

Parker Stern is a great lawyer, but he burnt out! Well, you all know why I immediately became a fan, having gone through it myself on the job. Parker became crippled--fearful of entering the courtroom. He became a mediator so that he wouldn't have to try cases any more. Stern's negative response was worthless because Poniard knew how good he was...and had a piece of information that could be used to blackmail Stern...and he played that card almost immediately.

The firm where Parker was working was upset when he took on this case, especially when "characters" from the game started hanging around (i.e., fans dressed as characters) and finally was part of a major disruption and Parker was fired...so was his secretary. He offered her a job with him and then called one of his former researchers to help...

Essentially what Poniard accused William the Conqueror was for the disappearance, and probable murder of Felicity (in the game) who was once an actress, said to be involved with William. Of course, William's lawyers initially began to claim they'd never known her and were seeking that all games be collected and destroyed! The key thing is that Poniard refused to identify himself in any way, or at any time, even when required by court procedures. Somehow Parker was always able to figure out how that could be permitted but, there was no way he could get around:

Reckless Disregard n. grossly negligent without concern for danger to others. Actually reckless disregard is redundant since reckless means there is a disregard for safety. Copyright © 1981-2005 by Gerald N. Hill and Kathleen T. Hill. All Rights reserved.

You have probably figured out that in order to have any change with this case, Parker must, essentially, prove that William is guilty... And so they proceed to do that... But then one of them is murdered! And more potential witnesses are found dead!

One interestingly little twist is that Parker is face-to-face with his lover who is now the trial lawyer for William...Of course, that is fun to watch! You didn't need to ask that, now did you?

But this is even more complicated personally...See if you can guess who else is connected to that trial lawyer!

As you can see, the more investigation that occurs, the more past lies are being found of William's past...His embarrassment can't stop it though--neither can all the money he has... It's all being unraveled! 

But...what is? Because the twists and turns in this novel are many and complex...some discovered through the game, others found in deep dark archives or from those people still living after all the time has passed! And nobody is going to know what they discover!

Don't Miss This One if You're a Gamer! Or a Fan of Legal Thrillers!!!


GABixlerReviews

This is a Puddly Poniard
It's the only connection I found...maybe Poniard is done with games????

About the Author

ROBERT ROTSTEIN, an entertainment attorney with over thirty years' experience in the industry, is the author of Corrupt Practices, the first Parker Stern novel. He's represented all of the major motion picture studios and many well-known writers, producers, directors, and musicians. He lives with his family in Los Angeles, California.

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