Excerpt, Giveaways, Interviews

Interview of Ed Lin featuring Snakes Can’t Run w/a rafflecopter giveaway! @robertchow

Snakes Can’t Run

by Ed Lin


GENRE:   FICTION/Mystery & Thriller



Set in New York City in 1976, Snakes Can’t Run finds NYPD detective Robert Chow still haunted by the horrors of his past and relegated to tedious undercover work. When the bodies of two undocumented Chinese men are found under the Brooklyn Bridge underpass, Chow is drawn into the case. Most of the officers in his precinct are concerned with a terrorist group targeting the police, but Chow’s investigation puts him on the trail of a ring of ruthless human smugglers who call themselves the snakeheads. As Chow gets closer to solving the murder, dangerous truths about his own family’s past begin to emerge. Steeped in retro urban attitude, and ripe with commentary on minorities’ roles in American society, this gritty procedural will appeal to fans of George Pelecanos and S.J. Rozan.


Excerpt Two:

By the time I got to Henry Street under the Manhattan Bridge overpass, one black-and-white and one unmarked police car were already there.

Peepshow was standing at the edge of the crime scene, twirling his baton, the one thing he could do without fucking up. “Keep moving, keep moving!” he yelled to the murmuring Chinese people. He touched his cap when he saw me. I nodded back.

Two bodies, Asian men in their twenties, lay on their sides. Both had their hands tied behind them with wire. They didn’t look fresh, and one man’s tattoo behind his ears stood out in sharp contrast to the white bloodless flesh of his neck.

I walked up to English, but before I could say anything he put a hand on my shoulde.r

“These fucking bag monkeys won’t let me past the tape,” he said, pointing out the forensic team collecting samples around the bodies.

“They’re just trying to do their job right.”

“I’ll do their job for them right now. These guys died from gunshot wounds and the bodies were dumped here. You can analyze for blood type all you want, but you can’t find the criminals looking down a microscope.”

“I hear you.”

“You know what solves crimes?”


“Shoe leather. Walking around and asking questions.”

“All right.”

“Chow,” he said, coming in closer. “You see the guy in the crowd in the red knit shirt smoking a cigarette?”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing better than to look immediately.

“I don’t like his face. Too smug.”

“I’ll follow him.”

Welcome Ed Lin! Please start off by telling us a little about yourself.

Hello, good to be here! Well, I was a punk-rock kid and I had wanted to get something like a new Velvet Underground band together but I could never find the right personalities to stick it out, so here I am writing books! I love spicy foods but I’m allergic to seafood. I like cold weather but I also like walking barefoot in the grass. Chunky’s better than creamy.

Is Snakes Can’t Run a single title, or part of a series?

It’s a part of a series that follows the life and evolution/devolution of the narrator, NYPD detective Robert Chow.

What were your inspirations for the story?

I was thinking about issues of immigration and documentation and I transferred part of the conversation to New York’s Chinatown in the 1970s. Nothing was PC among cops then. They said and did anything they wanted to.

Please share your setting for Snakes Can’t Run. Have you ever lived or visited there? If so, what did you like most?

New York City in the 1970s. It’s shortly after the city nearly went bankrupt. Garbage is piling up in the streets, cops are facing public charges of corruption even as their ranks are thinned by dwindling city coffers. Crime is rampant. Who knows what’s going on in Chinatown? Only Robert Chow.

When did the writing bug first bite?

I’ve wanted to write since I first learned to write. I’ve always wanted to tell and be told stories.

Who are you favorite authors, book/series?

Decorum dictates that I restrict my answer to dead authors! Dashiell Hammett, Chester Himes, Norbert Davis, Charles Willeford, James T. Farrell, Shirley Jackson and Dorothy B. Hughes all come to mind,

If you could have an author roundtable discussion with any authors, who would you invite?

Lou Reed, Toni Morrison, Amy Tan, Bob Mould and Iceberg Slim. I sure wouldn’t say much, I’d want to listen to them talk about their habits, what they like to read and their favorite foods.

Do you have any hobbies or special things you like to do in your spare time?

I enjoy using and souping up old Apple Powerbooks. I install solid-state drives and increase memories. It’s sorta like a guy who works on cars in his garage.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve heard or seen?

I’ve experienced a ghost! I lived one summer in a haunted farmhouse all by myself. A big snoring sound would come out of one of the empty bedrooms opposite mine. It didn’t happen every night but when it did it was a peaceful entity. If it had said, “Get out!” I woulda been so outta there!

What is the one thing that you would tell an inspiring writer to do?

Don’t try to rush to publication. Take as much time writing and revising as possible. Make it the best story/novel you can before you even tell anyone else about it.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Ed Lin, a native New Yorker of Taiwanese and Chinese descent, is the first author to win three Asian American Literary Awards and is an all-around standup kinda guy. His books include Waylaid and This Is a Bust, both published by Kaya Press in 2002 and 2007, respectively. Snakes Can’t Run and One Red Bastard, which both continue the story of Robert Chow set in This Is a Bust, were published by Minotaur Books. His latest book, Ghost Month, a Taipei-based mystery, was published by Soho Crime in July 2014. Lin lives in Brooklyn with his wife, actress Cindy Cheung, and son.


Twitter: https://twitter.com/robertchow

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Ed-Lin-80513225734

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/edlinforpresident/

Website: http://www.edlinforpresident.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/112827.Ed_Lin

Buy Links: https://www.harpercollins.com/cr-123754/ed-lin-1






Ed Lin will be awarding a limited edition print copy of the book to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Excerpt, Giveaways

Excerpt from Deadspeak 2 (Part 2 of the Deadspeak Mysteries) by Ruth Bainbridge w/a rafflecopter giveaway!


by Ruth Bainbridge


GENRE:  Mystery/thriller



DEADSPEAK2. The chilling new entry in the Deadspeak Mystery Series

Things look different when you’re dead.

It’s Halloween and a group of teens throw a party at Harbinger Falls’ most celebrated haunted estate. It’s all fun and games until a session with a Ouija board guides the partygoers to the body of a young girl hidden in the attic. 

Detective Kimberly Trent is assigned the case and quickly discovers that all is not as it seems. First, there’s the connection between the death and a string of petnappings terrorizing the neighborhood. Then there’s the suicide note that only leaves more questions than answers. A visit from Kimberly’s ghostly friend Griff Lindon sheds an unwelcome light. It seems she’s had a run in with the newly deceased who tells her she’s been murdered. 

This is the second in The Deadspeak Mysteries. The entries are meant to be read in sequential order and do not standalone. In each book, you’ll find a new murder for Kimberly Trent to solve. You’ll also find the continuing search for who murdered Kim’s sister Elizabeth. Each book will take you closer and closer to finding out the identity of The Hex Killer, the serial killer who ended Elizabeth’s short life. It will also bring you to the heart of the evil that’s come back to life to wreak revenge. 


Excerpt Two:

“A missing cat, sir?”

The shower with Max had turned into a lot more than earning a gold star in good hygiene. The afterglow of lovemaking stayed with her throughout breakfast, and the drive to work. It lasted right up until her talk with Captain Brody Walcott.

He never failed to quash thoughts not related to work.

What the hell was up with him anyway? How dare he propose such a ridiculous idea? After she’d helped solve the biggest case in Harbinger Falls’ history, he wanted her to find a cat?

“Not one, Kim—several. And not just cats. Dogs and cats are disappearing with regularity and people are not happy.”

“Tell them to call Animal Control,” she lashed.

“Animal Control deals with strays, not family pets that are stolen.”

It was a joke. It had to be a joke. She searched his dark eyes, but there were no signs it was.

“I don’t care! Give it to Cinder!” she blurted, tossing the picture of Smoky across the desk. It skidded to a halt at the roughened hands of her illustrious leader.

“Kim!” The angry tone shot through her; she bolted upright in her chair, “I know you think you’re a big detective and that this is beneath you, but there’s been over thirty dogs and fifteen cats abducted since September. There’s no accurate record since officers on this force have the same attitude you do.”

“And what attitude would that be, sir?”

“That pets aren’t important and that the police only deal with important things. Well, pets are important! Especially now that a few missing pets have turned into a pandemic.”

“Sir, I understand that they’re important to the family, but—”

“Detective Trent, do you really think you know everything? Read up on the statistical link between abuse of animals and serial killers, then come back and tell me your opinion.”

“Then you think—”

“What I think is that we either have a dog fighting operation or—”

“Or?” she prodded as he paused and took a swallow of black coffee.

“Or that a very sick individual in our community may develop into something way more terrifying.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Born in the idyllic, sleepy town of Ithaca, NY, Ruth Bainbridge has been a lover of mysteries for her entire life.


Ever since a child, she has consumed detective stories at regular intervals, becoming enamored with all the superstars of crime. She loved nothing more than to match wits with the likes of Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple, Thomas Pitt, Lord Peter Wimsey, Richard Jury, and Edward X Delaney, becoming inspired by their brilliance. Hoping to emulate her writing idol’s achievements in dreaming up such characters, she started composing her own short stories.


However, life interfered with her plans of becoming the next hopeful to try a life of crime—on paper at least. Devoting herself to her marriage and the raising of four children, the empty nest syndrome gave her the impetus to return to her first love—murder.


Amazon Author Page: bit.ly/bainbridgeauthorpage

Website: http://tinyurl.com/ruthbainbridgenewsletter-com

Twitter: @Ruth_Mysteries

Website: http://ruthbainbridgemysteries.blogspot.com/






The author will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly chosen commenter.

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Excerpt, Giveaways, Spotlight

Excerpt from James R. Hannibal’s Shadow Catcher (Nick Baron Series #1) w/a $20 GC rafflecopter giveaway!



Shadow Catcher

by James R. Hannibal


From James R. Hannibal—a veteran combat pilot with Top Secret clearance from the U.S. government—comes an electrifying high-tech thriller in the great tradition of Tom Clancy…

Over ten years ago, Air Force major Nick Baron was part of a failed special ops mission that left a B-2 stealth bomber at the bottom of the Persian Gulf. Now, leading his men—the Triple Seven Chase team—Baron must find the bomber and dispose of it for good before any unfriendly nation can steal the onboard technology for its own purposes. But as the team embarks on its mission, there are greater dangers waiting.


When the CIA intercepts a call signal from an operative in China long thought dead, the Triple Seven Chase team is given the perilous task of retrieving the lone soldier from deep within the Chinese wilderness. There is only one plane for such a dangerous mission: the Shadow Catcher, a plane with capabilities beyond anything that has ever flown.


What Baron and his men don’t know is that the enemy is already among them—and that the Shadow Catcher itself may be the ultimate prize.


Excerpt One:


From Chapter 1




March 18, 2013


A lone Westerner weaved his way along the crowded sidewalk in front of the Souk Sharq in Kuwait City, suffering the uneasy glances and occasional loathing glares of the locals. They did not bother him; with his flaxen hair and fair skin, such looks were unavoidable. On another day, he might have indulged his audience by slowing to gaze up at the beautiful souk, playing the part of the wandering tourist, admiring the high towers and ornate arches that hearkened back to the glory days of the Persian Empire. But not today. There was no time.


For ten years, the objective had lain hidden, dormant. For ten years, the secret had remained sealed in its watery vault. Now that he was back, he felt like that seal had been broken, as if his mere presence in the Persian Gulf had started a race against an unknown enemy. And somehow he knew he was already behind.


Once inside the souk, Air Force major Nick Baron moved into the shadow of a pillar. Now free from the usual disdainful looks, he let his steel blue eyes slowly drift over the crowd, scanning the potpourri of faces for something much more dangerous: recognition. He found none. Finally satisfied that he was not being watched or followed, he turned his attention to finding his teammate. It did not take long.


Nick slowly shook his head and sighed.


Major Drake Merigold stood in the center of the Grand Corridor at the base of a beautiful two-story water clock, staring up at the Jules Vernian sculpture with his mouth slightly agape. He wore an orange and blue Hawaiian shirt that hung untucked over his khaki shorts. He could not have stood out more amid the drab garb of the locals if he had worn a fluffy red wig and big floppy shoes.


The two field operatives of the Triple Seven Chase squadron had arrived on separate flights, on separate carriers, under assumed names. Each had used a unique, indirect route to reach the souk, where they were supposed to quietly join up before heading out into the gulf to meet the rest of the team. The stakes of this mission demanded strict adherence to the principles of covert movement. But then how could Drake be expected to fully grasp the stakes? No one had told him the real reason they were here.


“Magnum PI called,” said Nick, joining his comrade at the water clock. “He wants his shirt back.”


Drake nodded, still looking up. “It’s called hiding in plain sight, boss.” He was nearly a head taller than Nick, with broad shoulders to match and chiseled Greek features. With his flawless dark hair and obnoxious shirt, he looked like a movie star about to go on a cruise rather than a military operative. He glanced around the wide corridor, pulling the loud shirt away from his body and fanning it to take advantage of the air-conditioning. “They did a good job rebuilding. The last time we were here, an Iraqi missile had just crashed through the ceiling. You’d never know that there was once a huge crater right where we’re standing.”


“They’ve had ten years to fix it,” said Nick. “We’ve been away a long time.”


For the first time since Nick had stepped out of the shadows, Drake looked him straight in the eyes. “So, why are we back?”


Nick dropped his eyes from Drake’s to check his watch. “The others should be reaching the rendezvous point soon. It’s time we got out there.”


Drake frowned. “You’re starting to act like the colonel.”


“Just pick up your bag and let’s go.”


Nick shifted the strap of the duffel bag that hung over his shoulder and started walking toward the central rear archway, the exit to the marina. Like Drake, he wore civilian clothes to hide his military affiliation, although his choices were a little more understated. His dark gray button-down shirt hung loose on his shoulders, masking the solid build beneath. Both men carried civilian duffel bags with enough gear to get them through a few days on the water, just as Colonel Walker had directed.


Warm salty air rushed over him as Nick pushed open the glass double doors. He started down the stairs to the wooden boardwalk, where several docks extended out into the gulf. Each had room for twenty small craft and each was nearly full, a forest of masts and canvas. Other than the whip and snap of the sails in the gentle breeze, all seemed quiet. Nick felt the temptation to relax.


The doors to the Grand Corridor clicked closed behind him, wrenching his senses away from the pleasant atmosphere. He paused halfway down the stairs. Scanning farther down the docks, he spied a pair of locals in the common white thaubs and keffiyehs. He watched them for a few moments as they prepared to launch a blue and white runabout, probably for an evening pleasure cruise. They looked harmless.


At the end of the third dock, he found a black dinghy waiting at the prescribed slip. He held it fast and tossed in their bags while Drake jumped on board and prepped the motor.


Within minutes, Drake had the throttle fully open, accelerating out into the open waters of the Persian Gulf. Every so often, he steered into a wave, sending white spray over the bow and onto Nick.


“I know you’re doing that on purpose,” said Nick, wiping the oily gulf water from his face.


“Just trying to lighten the mood,” replied Drake. “You gotta learn to relax, boss.”


“I’ll relax when the mission is complete and the team is safely back at Romeo Seven.”


“You know that ain’t true.”


Nick refused to respond. He was in no mood for friendly ribbing, and he feared that in a few hours’ time, Drake’s usual jovial temper would sour as well. Before the day was over, Drake would accuse him of betrayal, and he would have every right to.


Twenty minutes later, another craft appeared on the horizon. Despite his fears, Nick managed a thin smile. The commander of the Triple Seven Chase was well known in the covert ops community as an acquisitions wizard. Colonel Richard T. Walker had just pulled another rabbit out of his pointy hat, and this time she was a big one.

Nick estimated the vessel to be at least 250 feet long with a 50-foot beam. She looked fresh from the dry dock, with unblemished white paint and a thick red stripe along the rails. She was well equipped too, with three golf-ball-style radomes amidships and a docking station jutting out from the rear beneath two heavy salvage cranes.


“Illustro ex Caliga,” read Nick, squinting at the black lettering near the bow of the craft.


“It means ‘Illustrious Sea Monkey,’” said Drake.


“I don’t believe you.”


“Good call.” Drake scratched his chin in thought. “If I remember my Latin correctly, it means ‘Illumination out of Darkness.’” He guided the dinghy to the aft station, cutting his speed to a crawl and then inching into position in an agonizingly slow attempt at docking.


“Well, that was ugly, Merigold,” said a booming voice from above. An imposing figure leaned against the rail of the upper deck. With his gray crew cut and perpetual scowl, Colonel Walker carried the aura of a man in full US Army service dress, even when wearing a golf shirt and khakis.


“Hey, I fly airplanes, not boats,” retorted Drake, slapping the tubular black hull of the dinghy. “I’m used to touching down on a solid surface at a hundred and fifty knots, not wallowing in to a moving target at five. You should be glad I didn’t ram this thing into your little rental here.”


Walker ignored Drake’s attempt to bait him. “Hurry up, gentlemen,” he said. “We have a lot of work to do before dark.”


“And what work is that, sir?” asked Drake, hopping onto the ship’s dock to secure the dinghy.


The colonel’s usual scowl faded into a grim smile. “Preparing to raise a ghost from our past, Major Merigold,” he said. “Preparing to raise a ghost from our past.”



AUTHOR Bio and Links:James R. Hannibal



James R. Hannibal is a former US Air Force Stealth Bomber pilot with over a thousand hours of combat experience including over-watch, close air support, and HVI captures. He graduated from the US Air Force Academy in 1997 with a bachelors of science in Middle


Eastern Studies and earned a masters of science from Central Missouri State University in Aviation Safety Sciences. His flying career included the A-10 Warthog, B-2 Stealth Bomber, MQ-1 Predator, T-38 Talon, T-37 Tweet, and the Boeing 737, 757, and 767. When he is not flying or writing thrillers, James occasionally reviews for the New York Journal of Books.


Buy links:


Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00G3L6N6K/


B&N – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shadow-maker-james-r-hannibal/1117225112


IndieBound  – www.indiebound.org/book/9780425266885


Kobo – http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/shadow-maker-1


BAM – http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Shadow-Catcher/James-R-Hannibal/Q601624991


Powell’s – http://www.powells.com/biblio/62-9780425266908-0


Walmart – http://www.walmart.com/ip/31893105


Publisher – http://www.penguin.com/book/shadow-maker-by-james-r-hannibal/9780425266892


Social Media:


Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/JamesRHannibal


Twitter – http://twitter.com/JamesRHannibal


Website – http://stealthcommand.com/


Shadow Maker:


How far will collateral damage from a CIA drone strike reach?


When a suicide bomber shatters the peace of a winter afternoon on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., former pilot and undercover Cerberus operative Nick Baron receives an eerie invitation from the chess app on his phone—a mysterious figure named The Emissary wants to play.


Nick and his covert unit—the Triple Seven Chase team—soon find themselves drawn into battle against an unknown opponent who has resurrected an ancient order of assassins: the legendary Hashashin. And there is a long-awaited prophecy being fulfilled by a series of violent attacks which may culminate in a final apocalypse over Jerusalem.


As the Triple Seven fight to stop each attack, Nick tries to keep The Emissary on the hook by playing their digital chess game. The lines between the game and the fight begin to blur, as every time Nick loses a piece on the board, he loses one of his men. And if Nick cannot find a way to stop the terrorist mastermind, a checkmate may kill millions…




After the towers fall on 9/11, Lieutenant Nick Baron and the rest of the 81st Fighter Squadron are desperate for action. But CENTCOM puts them on the sidelines, leaving the young Warthog pilots restless—and reckless. Then the unthinkable happens. During a high-risk training flight, a rookie wingman slams into the ground.


In the darkness that follows, Nick wonders if he will ever learn to trust a wingman again—or even learn to trust himself. He will soon find out. Despite the black mark on his record, Nick’s application to the elite Stealth Wing is approved. A recruiter for a new covert team has taken note of Nick’s unique combination of skills. Suddenly Nick is swept into Operation Cerberus—a top secret mission that will take him from a harrowing flight over a black testing facility to a fight for his life on the Iraqi Dunes.


“Hannibal brings together a terrific mix of real air technology with intrigue and nonstop action. A true suspenseful story that will keep you turning the pages until the exciting finale; it really is a great tale.”—Clive Cussler


“Get out of the way, Nelson DeMille. Brad Thor—you’ve got competition!”—Raymond Benson


“A feast for thriller lovers!”—Grant Blackwood, New York Times bestselling author of The Kill Switch

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