I wanted to share this website with everyone as it is another great way to learn about new releases before we go out and purchase them. To gain a better sense of what the programme entails, here's a little blurp from the Read It First Website.
Each weekday morning, we’ll send you a taste of the week’s featured title right to your inbox. By the end of the week, you’ll have read approximately a few chapters, enough to decide whether it is the right book for you…sometimes just before it even hits the stores!
And it’s all completely FREE!
This week the featured title is Eve by Iris Johansen. This is my first encounter with the author and after reading the chapter one yesterday, I'm beginning to like the author's style. Eve is just one book in a three part series. The other books; Quinn and Bonnie and set to release in July and October respectively. Here's chapter one of Eve.
Author: Iris Johansen
Publishers: St Martin's Press (April 19th 2011)
Check out the synopsis here
Malua, SamoaIf you like what you've read and want to begin receiving the Read It First emails, you can visit the website and sign up there.
The explosive was in place beneath the back veranda of the house.
The charge set.
Agent Art Benkman slid behind the garden wall that surrounded the
pool and house and waited.
No mistakes this time. His superior wouldn't tolerate another near
miss. It had been made clear that Black must be destroyed. He was a
monster who knew too much.
No, he'd seen Paul Black go into the house an hour ago. It was the
best time for the kill. Only one person in the house beside that son
of a b itch. A housekeeper who occupied the end bedroom of the
rambling bungalow. He'd seen her light go out two hours ago. She'd
be asleep by now.
No one would survive this blast. He'd had to be sure.
The flames from the blast would probably reach the top of those palm
trees hovering over the roof.
"I've got you, Black," he murmured. "Burn in--"
He was flipped over and was looking up at the man who had sent the
needle-sharp stiletto deep into his back.
Black. But it couldn't be Paul Black. He was in the house.
No, he was here. That dark, devil's face...
"Who sent you?" Black asked. "Who told you I was here?" He was
searching in Benkman's pockets, pulling out his wallet, and the
e-mail that he'd received two days ago. He glanced at it and smiled.
"Very explicit. And you obeyed blindly like a good agent? Never
mind. You don't have to answer. I don't need you now."
"Kill you..." Beckman whispered. "I have to--"
"Die," Black supplied as he picked up Benkman as if he were a child.
"That's all you have to do." He was carrying him over to the house.
"How do you feel about cremation?"
"No!" He started to struggle as panic overcame pain. "Don't leave me
here. It's going to--"
"Blow?" Black dropped him on the floor of the great room. "In about
forty seconds." He looked down at him. "Why don't you see if you can
make it through the French doors and out onto the terrace? You might
survive then." He turned and strolled out of the house.
Benkman rolled over and started to crawl toward the French doors.
The blood was pouring out of the wound as he moved. Weak.
The blood was slippery...
He was dying.
No, he'd be okay. He was always okay. He just had to get out of
this damn house.
So slow. He was moving so slow.
He reached the French doors. Now crawl out onto the veranda. He was
And then he saw Black standing by the garden wall and watching him.
He was smiling.
He tapped his watch.
Too late, Benkman realized frantically. He was too late. Time had
"Don't leave me!" he howled. "Get me out of--"
The house exploded and became an inferno.
"Here's the report, sir. Shall I call Atlanta and give it to her?"
Venable scowled as he looked down at the report that Agent David
Harley had put in front of him. This inquiry was shaping up to be a
king-size headache. Why had he become involved in this mess?
He knew the answer. He liked Joe Quinn and Eve Duncan, and they had
helped the CIA on many occasions. When Catherine Ling had asked him
to pull strings and get this report concerning the death of Eve's
daughter, he'd thought it might be a way to pay back.
He wasn't sure that would be true any longer. Eve Duncan was very
fragile where anything connected to her murdered daughter, Bonnie,
"Is anything wrong?" Agent Harley asked. "I used three sources. It
all checked out. And Catherine Ling is usually very accurate."
And Harley would be careful, Venable thought. He was new, but he was
eager and conscientious.
"No, I'm sure you verified it correctly." He shrugged. "I can just
see a blowup looming on the horizon."
"But Catherine Ling's e-mail said that--"
"I know." Venable held up his hand to stop him. Harley had met
Catherine Ling only once, but he had been dazzled by her. Most men
had the same response to Catherine. She was not only a top CIA
agent, but she was part Caucasian, part Asian, and was one of the
most gorgeous and exotic women Venable had ever met. "Catherine may
be accurate, but that doesn't mean she might not trigger an
explosion. She's ramming her way through every source I have to get
that information, and she's not going to stop."
"Eve Duncan," Harley repeated tentatively, glancing at the report.
"I've heard of her. I saw some photos. Skulls and stuff. She's a
forensic sculptor, isn't she?"
I am an Amazon Affiliate.