STAN SCHATT AND NEW RELEASE, SILENT PARTNER

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Stan will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

SILENT PARTNER is a paranormal mystery, a police procedure novel with a female detective that will remind you of Harry Bosch, a ghost story that suggests what lies beyond death, and a comic look at a tabloid where the “truth” is whatever sells.

Enjoy an excerpt of SILENT PARTNER:


“Duh. Of course I am, but I’m also the one who tripped you. Give me some credit for that. I think it’s like a hundred years of bad karma if you let the person you’re protecting get killed.”

“You’re protecting me? How come you didn’t keep me from being shot?”

“Give me a break. I told you that I’m new to this. The bullet only nicked your butt; so don’t make a federal case out of it. If I hadn’t tripped you,
you’d be paralyzed. You should be grateful to me.”

Josh felt a cold shiver run up his spine.

“Then you’re dead?”

“We don’t refer to it that way. We like to say that we’ve moved to another plane.”

“How come I can see you?”

Andy smiled thinly.

“You Harrells have a gift. Everyone has a guardian angel, but only certain people can see us. It’s easier in a way for us if you can’t see us.”

“You’ll keep anything bad from happening to me?”

“There’s such a thing as free will, my dear. I can only help you so much.

If it’s your time, then it’s lights out. Now that you’re thirty, things are going to get a lot harder.”

“What do you mean?”

Josh had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and it wasn’t the alcohol.

“A lot of things are going to change for you now. As I said, you Harrells are gifted, although some of your relatives thought of it as a curse.”

“I don’t believe this. You mean my father really did see someone? He wasn’t crazy?”

“Of course he saw someone. I hope you don’t throw your full glass of whiskey at me the way he threw his at his guardian.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You’re asking too many questions. Just take my word that everything’s relative, including time.”

“What do you want?”


About the Author:

Stan Schatt grew up in Phoenix, Arizona and now resides in Carlsbad, California. He has written thirty-five books on a wide variety of subjects ranging from fiction to technology. He is co-author of JOURNEY TO A DIFFERENT DIMENSION, an Amazon bestseller. He also authored EGYPT RISING, a YA novel focusing on a teen’s experience in Egypt at the time of the Egyptian revolution of 2011. This novel contains paranormal elements including a secret buried under the Sphinx. The paranormal mystery SILENT PARTNER is Schatt’s latest novel.

He has led several careers including futurist and executive for many of the world’s leading technology market research firms, police department administrator, autopsy assistant, software trainer, Telecommunications Department Chairman, and English professor. He taught at Tokyo University as a Fulbright exchange professor. His non-fiction includes books on such diverse topics as strategies for changing careers for a green industry job, studies of Michael Connelly and Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., network and data communications technology, telecommunications, computer programming.

http://www.pen-l.com/SilentPartner.html

http://www.stanschatt.com

http://www.twitter.com/stanschatt



a Rafflecopter giveaway

THANK YOU TO LOYAL READERS!

Last week when I offered readers the gift of a free copy of my new cozy mystery, DIGGING FOR DEATH, I belatedly realized there were terrible formatting problems. My sincere apology! I immediately corrected the error, but to atone I’m once again offering the book FREE. Yep, free cozy mystery giveaway Monday, June 11, through Tuesday, June 12 on Amazon Kindle. One thing I would very much appreciate is IF you like the book, please put a favorable review on Amazon. If you hate the book (how could you hate my baby?) then please keep it a secret except to email me why so I can perhaps correct any plot errors in the next book.

The book’s protagonist is Heather Cameron, 28-years-old, who manages her family’s garden center and landscape firm. Her master’s degree from Texas A&M qualifies her to do a great job, but she is compelled to prove herself to her grandparents. Heather’s parents died when she was eight, and her grandparents, Meg and Richard Gillentine, along with her great-grandmother, Elizabeth “Gigi” Gamble Gillentine, raised her. Helping Heather is her assistant manager, Miguel Diaz, and her shop manager and best friend, Chelsea Bedford. Heather is excited that she scored a plum landscaping job, but the client’s husband is the meanest man in town, Vance Rockwell. What a jerk he is.  

Here’s a blurb about DIGGING FOR DEATH:

Garden center manager Heather Cameron is DIGGING FOR DEATH to prove her old family friend, mentor, and employee, Walter Sims, is innocent of murdering the meanest man in town. Heather can’t trust the police to find the real killer when all clues point to poor Walter. The dead man was beaten to death with Walter’s shovel several hours after they were overheard arguing, and the two men had a long history of enmity. Walter definitely looks guilty, but Heather is sure—well, almost positive—okay, she certainly hopes her friend and mentor is innocent.
  Heather is compelled to scour the fictional North Central Texas town of Gamble Grove to exonerate her old friend. She’s encouraged when the new police detective in town, Kurt Steele, shows interest in helping her look for clues. The deeper Heather digs into the dead man’s life, the more she justifies his ruthless reputation. Walter is indicted, but police begin to suspect the victim’s stepson as murderer. Heather is convinced the stepson couldn’t have murdered anyone either—although it’s clear no love was lost between the two men. The attempted murder of the victim’s real son creates a new twist. Can Heather solve the murder without becoming the killer’s next victim?

Here’s an excerpt:

Lining the Rockwell’s drive nearest the new garden plot were a fire engine, an ambulance, a van, what was probably an unmarked police car, two black and whites and—dang, wouldn't you know it?—the Gillentine Gardens truck. The muscles in my stomach were like vise grips clenched on my insides as I drove past the other vehicles and parked. Sickly dread overwhelmed me at what I might find.

I wanted to turn my car around and drive home and run up to my bed and pull the covers over my head. No such luxury for me. I climbed out of my car and strode quickly toward the crowd, swallowing down fear’s metallic taste in my mouth.

Container rose bushes destined for Bootsy Rockwell's garden almost filled the garden center’s staked-bed truck. Miguel Diaz sat on the truck’s bed with his feet dangling off the end. Steve Harris sat beside him. Bad vibes shot through me. A uniformed policeman and another man stood talking to Miguel. Miguel looked ashen and ill, but he nodded to me. Steve said nothing, merely hung his head.

"Hello, Heather." Miguel shook his head, despair evident in his sad brown eyes. "It's really bad."

"What's happened?"

The officer turned to me. "You know the whereabouts of Walter Sims?"

"He's supposed to be at the garden center. What's happened?" I repeated my question.

Steve looked up, but said nothing.

Miguel looked as if he were trying to send me some sort of signal. "Heather, it's—“

The man in plainclothes quieted Miguel with a glance as he stepped forward. Good heavens, what a giant. Must be six-four with shoulders broad as our truck. Even a long, tall Texas gal like myself had to look up to meet his gaze.

Whoa. What a gaze it was. Worried and puzzled as I was, I couldn’t fail to notice his eyes were delphinium blue and his dark hair the color of moist peat moss was cut short. He wasn’t GQ handsome, but definitely attractive.

"I take it you're Miss Cameron? I'm Detective Kurt Steele and this officer is Sergeant Jack Winston. We need to ask you a few questions."

"Not until I know what's happened. Why are you questioning Mr. Diaz and Mr. Harris?" Darn, stress must have fried my mind. I couldn’t believe I refused a detective.

"Vance Rockwell was murdered early this morning with Walter Sim’s shovel. We want to speak with Mr. Sims. No one here seems to know where he is.” He paused. “Do you?"

Rockwell dead and Walter missing? Panic rose with the bile in my throat.

No, please don’t let Walter be the killer.

At that moment, paramedics wheeled a gurney bearing a black body bag past the truck and loaded it into the ambulance. Oh Lord, Rockwell dead from Walter’s shovel? And Walter hated him.

Carole King was in my head, and the earth really did move. Dropping away from my feet, leaving me drifting. The sky tumbled down. Swirling, everything was swirling. Spiraling around me. I thought I might throw up or pass out—or both.

The detective stepped forward and grabbed my arm, anchoring me in the mixed up universe. "Miss Cameron? Maybe you should sit on the truck by Diaz and Harris."

But the sky still tumbled, the earth spiraled around me. I was a kid spinning until I was drunk with dizziness.  Sky flipped places with earth. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

"Yes...Yes, I’d better." With Detective Steele's help, I staggered to the truck. I shrugged off his hand intent on levering myself onto the bed. But I stood there as if in a trance. The detective hoisted me up onto the truck s if I were a kid. I sat there wondering if I were going to pass out.

I felt Miguel’s hand at my neck. “Your head, put it between your knees.”

I did as he instructed, closing my eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. When I straightened, my head was throbbing but the earth and sky had resumed their correct positions.  Sky above, earth below.
Willing my eyes to focus on the detective, I insisted, "Walter wouldn't bash in anyone's head." I prayed I spoke the truth.

Detective Steele referred to his notes. "It appears he and Mr. Rockwell had a heated argument yesterday about a quarter of five. Mr. Sims stalked to the truck—“he pointed at Steve”—where Harris waited, and peeled off."

Drat Walter, coming here when I’d ordered him to stay at the garden center. "If you consider anyone who argued with Rockwell a suspect, you'll be interviewing half the state." I almost included myself but thought better of it. "Besides, you said Walter left."

Sergeant Winston said, "Maybe he returned."

"Phffft." I peered at Detective Steele. "Sounds like you’re grasping at straws. What kind of detective work is that?"

Steele's clenched jaw displayed a small tic.

Oops, I shouldn’t have said that.

He stood directly in front of me and glared. "We just started the investigation. If we had some cooperation, maybe we could wrap this up in time to buy donuts before we take our lunch break."

Way to go, Heather. Not a good idea to annoy the police.

I took another deep breath. At this rate, I’d soon hyperventilate. “There’s no need for sarcasm. I don't know where Walter is, but I know he wouldn't kill anyone, not even Vance Rockwell."

He raised his eyebrows, making his nice blue eyes more noticeable, darn him. "Not even? What does that mean?"

"Rockwell was not a popular man. I imagine you'll find a long, long list of people with motives, detective. Leave Walter alone." I glanced at Miguel slumped beside me and patted his shoulder. "Leave all my employees alone. None of them would have done such a thing."

Detective Steele poised his pen over his notebook. "Where were you just after midnight, Miss Cameron?"

I thought again about his nice blue eyes, but pushed those thoughts aside because of his nasty question. "In my apartment. Asleep."

He raised one eyebrow.

I shot him a glare. "Alone."

"So, you have no alibi?"

"People who live alone never have an alibi. That doesn't mean they're guilty of anything more serious than drinking juice from the carton."

He pulled out a business card and handed it over. "We'll be in touch. Call me if you hear from Mr. Sims."

"Can Mr. Diaz and Mr. Harris go?"

Detective Steele nodded. Miguel and Steve slid off the truck bed to the ground, and Miguel helped me down. While they walked to the truck's cab, the detective speared me with another no-nonsense glare.

"If you hear from Walter Sims, you'll be doing him a favor if you convince him to call us. We need to talk to him, and the sooner the better."

I turned and walked back to my Honda. My heartbeat fluttered and my throat threatened to close so I couldn’t breathe. I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to the car, but I climbed in and turned the ignition.

Here’s the link:
http://www.amazon.com/DIGGING-Heather-Cameron-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B0086PAIDK/ref=sr_1_22?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1338736184&sr=1-22

The next book in the series is DIGGING FOR BONES, but it’s probably not going to be released until 2013. However, I do plan to release DIGGING FOR DEATH in print in the very near future.

And if you enjoy mysteries with a sheriff protagonist, you might also enjoy ALMOST HOME, a Link Dixon mystery.
http://www.amazon.com/Almost-Home-Dixon-Series-ebook/dp/B005J865J8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1339192012&sr=1-1

Happy reading! Thanks for stopping by!

Interview With A Hero

Today's guest is Brendan Hunter, hero of my June release, OUT OF THE BLUE. Please help me welcome him.


CC: Brendan, thank you for joining us today. First, let’s start with your name. Brendan is an unusual name for a hero.

BH: Hmm, have you heard of Brenda Fraser? Saint Brendan, patron saint of sailors?  Nevermind, I was named after my father and am actually Brendan Hunter IV. My dad was called Trey, but I’ve always used my full name. The Brendan came because our Hunter family once lived in Galway, which is where Saint Brendan founded his monastery.

CC: I beg your pardon, I meant no offense. It’s a very nice name. I believe you grew up on a cooperative farm.

BH: You can call it whatever you wish, it was a hippie commune that evolved with the times. You don’t find people named Moonshadow or Prairie Flower on your average farm. For that matter, my own mom is named Blossom. I left there when I was a kid.

CC: What precipitated the change and where did you go?

BH: When I was ten, my dad was shot while trying to rob a convenience store. I have a lot of baggage from that event and I don't want to get into it here. Dad's parents—my grandparents—had never spoken to me until that time. They swooped in and told me I was the last of the Hunter line and it was my duty to excel and make the most of myself. They convinced me my mom would be better off without me.

CC: How tragic for you and for your mom.

BH: Better believe it. That was a rough time. At the same time they told me my mom would be better off with me living with them, they told my mom they could help me more than she ever could. My grandparents told me they’d find Mom a job in a health food store, which was what she’d always wanted. The catch was that I had to come with them or they wouldn’t help my mom.

CC: They wanted you pretty badly, didn’t they?

BH: Not me really, just the product of their genes. After the first few days I understood why my dad had run away and joined the commune, um, I mean the cooperative farm. They were rigid people with narrow minds. They had a great home filled with wonderful art and antiques, but there was no joy in them or their home—only rules. But, to make sure my mom had what she wanted, I agreed to their terms.

CC: What were those terms?

BH: I had to go to the so-called “best” schools. There was no chance to take the classes that interested me. My grandparents decided everything. Before then, my mom had home schooled me and had done a tremendous job. I was ahead of the class my age when I started prep school. Then I went to Yale. When I finished Yale with my master’s in business, I believed I’d fulfilled my obligation.

CC: What did you do to let your grandparents know your feelings?

BH: (Laughs) I told them I was entering the Dallas Police Academy. They were livid, of course. Threatened to cut me out of their will—as if I cared.

CC: Did they retaliate toward your mom?

BH: Oh, yes, did they ever! She lost her job, but she soon found another near me. We were reunited and loved it. Soon my grandparents were in a fatal car crash. They hadn’t had time to change their will, or else that was just a threat, because I inherited their entire estate. Man, they had more than I’d ever dreamed, but they were so selfish they didn’t even leave a legacy to servants who’d worked for them for thirty years. I took care of that, as well as some charities and such.

CC: I guess the business degree came in handy with the estate to manage.

BH: Yes, but I found a friend who helps me with it, a lawyer I went to school with. Between us, the amount has grown even though I’ve given a lot away. The first thing I did was buy my mom her own health food store in Radford Springs. That’s where I found a job in the police force. Great place to live. Then I bought Mom a home on the shores of Possum Kingdom Lake. She’d always wanted to live overlooking a lake. When we saw that house, we knew it was The One.

CC: Possum Kingdom Lake is a lovely place. You were very generous to your mom.

BH: Hey, a guy has to take care of his mom. But I bought myself a nice condo in Radford Springs, only a few blocks from the police station. Very conventient.

CC: You like police work better than being a financier?

BH: You bet. I like making a difference in the world. I'm a detective now and have risen pretty fast. Some guys think my money made a difference. I don't think so. I've worked hard and take pride in my job. The worst part of it was losing my partner, Larry Farris, in a drive-by shooting that left me too wounded to attend his funeral. That was tough.

CC: Brendan, I'm so sorry. Please accept my condolences. What about your heroine, Deirdre Dougherty?

BH: Ah, now that's a pleasant question. At first I thought Deirdre was crazy. She soon proved me wrong.

CC: Sounds intriguing, Brendan. Thanks for stopping by today. Is there anything else you’d like to tell readers?

BH: Only that if they want to read more about Deirdre and me, they should buy OUT OF THE BLUE from The Wild Rose Press.

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/

Also available at http://www.amazon.com/