Showing posts with label new release. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new release. Show all posts

Tuesday, 21 March 2017

WORKING STIFFS . . . Out today!

Release day:

Driven Press is excited to welcome Scott Bell and his latest novel

Working Stiffs

. . . available now. 



At a time when civil liberties have been eroded and unemployment has exceeded Great Depression levels, nanotechnology provides the ability to reanimate the recently dead. Far from zombies, but nothing like their former selves, “Revivants” are a ready source of cheap labor able to perform simple, routine tasks. Great news for some sectors, but for many, the economic and social impact is devastating.
Enter Joe Warren—an unemployed college dropout, who is self-absorbed and disinterested in the world’s problems. All Joe wants is a job, food on his table, and a cure for his girlfriend’s lingering illness. What Joe gets is a stint in jail with a bunch of self-proclaimed freedom fighters, and coerced to become an informant by federal government agents.
Joe is forced to examine his me-first attitude, and in the process learns that some things just might be worth fighting—or dying—for.

Exclusive excerpt:

Corpus Interruptus


“How far do you think he’ll get?” Homeland Agent Maravich used his pinkie to circle the inside of his nostril.
Across the street from the Huateng Tower, in what was once the Magnificent Mile Marriott but was now a deserted hulk harboring junkies, alkies, and lice, Agents Ramirez and Maravich followed Joseph Warren’s antics on a portable vid screen. Scratchy audio buzzed from tiny speakers. An inset window indicated the subject’s position in real-time and read out his vital stats in a tiny scroll at the bottom.
“Far enough to hang himself.” Ramirez leaned over the monitor, set up on what was once the circular bar in the Marriott’s lobby. He refused to let any part of his body other than the soles of his shoes touch any surface in the derelict building. Water dripped and things skittered in the dark corners of the open space, long since stripped of fixtures and covered in a layer of filth deep as cake icing.
A team of six TAC officers in full gear held position near the boarded-up entrance. A chain hung from a hole in the plywood, its lock a thing of distant memory. The glut of street people lurking in the lobby had slunk away like feral dogs when Ramirez and his fellow agents shoved open the damp and rotting barrier and flashed lights around the interior. Ramirez perceived them hovering in the shadows the way a ship’s captain sensed bad weather over the horizon.
“So what is it about this dingleberry?” Maravich studied the small screen, his Eastern European ancestry evident in the flat planes and angles of his face. “This Warren guy, he ain’t much.”
“He’s going to get us in.”
“You think?”
“Warren is the only person I’ve ever seen get close to MacCauley who wasn’t one of her fanatics.”
“And you think that’s enough?”
On the screen, Warren accessed the security door and the camera view switched to inside the room. Ramirez smirked as their subject tapped his way through the building’s security features.
“There’s more to Warren than meets the eye,” he told Maravich. “He’s a survivor. I get a lever on him; he’ll do what we need.”
“You say so.” Maravich shrugged. He snorted and spat across the bar. “I think the guy’s a chump.”
“He is. But he’s our chump. He’ll get us in, and we’ll run down these terrorist fucks once and for all. These assholes think they can tear down the foundation of this country and destroy the United States government. I will not, under any circumstances, allow that to happen. If I have to sacrifice a hundred Joseph Warrens, it’ll be a small price to pay.”

Working Stiffs . . . available now!


Paperback available from:

US$15.99


More info:

www.drivenpress.net

and Goodreads:


Working Stiffs


Author:

Scott Bell holds a degree in criminal justice from North Texas State University and has enjoyed careers in both asset protection as well as sales. With the kids grown and time on his hands, Scott turned back to his first love—writing. His short stories have been published in The Western OnlineCast of Wonders, and in the anthology, DesolationYeager's Law, published in 2015, was his first novel, with its sequel, Yeager's Mission, published in 2016. April's Fool was also published in 2016.
When he’s not writing, Scott is on the eternal quest to answer the question: What would John Wayne do?

Find Scott at:

Sunday, 7 August 2016

#samplesunday - THE DOLL HARVEST

It's #samplesunday at Driven Press today, and we're showcasing our latest release: suspense novel The Doll Harvest by Ron Savage.




The twins say I’m perfect and rare. “We had to look very hard to find someone like you." I am admired.

On the steps of her quiet brownstone, Nettie Harnell smells the sickly sweet scent of chloroform moments before she is abducted. When she awakens she’s in a dark basement chained to a post with nothing but memories of her mother and Paris to keep her company while she awaits her fate.
There is a shortage of medical donors in Philly, not that Carl and Vern Wachoski consider it a problem—it’s another business opportunity. Taking without permission has turned out to be incredibly lucrative, especially with Carl’s motto being “waste not, want not.” But Carl’s arrogance could cost them everything if they don’t watch out.
Dutch Harnell is no stranger to depression since the tragic and violent death of his wife and son thirteen years before. Now it’s time for Dutch to pull himself together to save his one remaining family member, Nettie. With the help of Kapil Talpur, a young graduate student who witnessed the abduction, he finds himself drawn deeper into a world of greed and intrigue, where they can trust no one but themselves.


Please enjoy this sample chapter from the book . . .



March 2016
Center City, Philadelphia

Nettie first met her friend Kapil Talpur three years ago, just after her return from Paris. He’d collapsed in an alleyway next to her home in Center City, Philly. The young man looked emaciated. She had taken him to a restaurant and bought him a meal; the gesture turned into an enduring friendship. Nettie was walking toward her Locust Street brownstone now and thinking about this sweet, thoughtful guy, his gratitude for that long ago dinner . . .

“Thank you a thousand times,” he’d told her. So Kapil.

“Once is plenty,” she had said.

Kapil Talpur was from Mumbai and had just lost his fellowship then, while in the third year of a doctorate program at the University of Pennsylvania, something to do with particle physics. Financial assistance had been promised in the “not too distant” future, and he’d started a new job at a nearby convenience store to make ends meet until he could go back to school. Three years later and Kapil was still working in the same store.

Sometimes Nettie would see her friend on her way home, though not tonight, apparently. She hoped he was doing well.

The young man always asked how her father was getting along. Kapil didn’t understand why the reverend was living in a retirement community at such an early age.

“Paris didn’t help him,” she’d said. It sounded flippant, uncaring. Nettie had wanted to say, “I feel completely helpless and I don’t know how to dig him out of his terrible sadness.” But she thought that would be too much for any friend to hear.

Nettie turned and crossed Locust, climbing the four concrete steps to the front door of the brownstone. That was when someone behind her cupped her nose and mouth with a wet cloth.

The cloth smelled sweet. It had the sort of smell that left her feeling nauseous. Like any moment she could get a serious case of the hurls. God she hated throwing up. Chloroform, that was her thought. How long do I have? When does this shit knock me out? What’re they gonna do, rape me? Her mom’s story: the two boys down by the Schuylkill River.

Like mom, like daughter.

Nettie kept trying to break free, kicking her legs into the cold night air. The man holding her was amazingly strong for his size. She’d gotten a glimpse of him, the guy and his weird friend. They were frail looking men—tall but very frail.

And no, not his friend.

How could Nettie have thought friend? Brothersyes, of course. More than that, the two of them are twins. Or I’m seeing double? They’re like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. But they weren’t fat like the Tweedles. These guys were skinny, very skinny.

Her legs had started going weak, and her brain felt as if it was floating inside her skull. She felt a sharp quick sting in the crook of her arm. A needle, that was her thought. The needle stayed in her arm for five or ten seconds. He’s stealing my blood? Who in the hell takes somebody on the steps of her own home and steals her blood? Nettie was twenty-six and lived alone. She knew a person needed to be careful in Philly, especially Center City. A subcompact Beretta Px4 was in her leather handbag. Now the handbag lay on the step. How priceless, so much for being prepared. Her bag had dropped when the man grabbed her.

“Don’t bruise anything,” one twin said.

“Does she look bruised?”

“It doesn’t show immediately.”

“Shut up, Carl.”

“Hey, no names. Jesus.”

“Relax. She won’t be taking out an ad.”

Before one of the twins had pressed the cloth over Nettie’s nose and mouth, she’d been thinking about making a cup of dark chocolate coco and watching The Maltese Falcon on TCM with her beloved Mr. Muggles, the most spoiled cat in the Delaware Valley. She thought a movie about a bird would keep him interested.

The two men shoved her into the back of a Chrysler Town & Country station wagon. She noticed a rusted left front fender. The wagon had a pea green top and hood. The sides were a phony mahogany wood. She saw the thing during her last moments of consciousness. The wagon smelled like week old laundry and stale fries.

Who drives this, anymore? she thought. Late 80s’ crap, ’88, ’89.

Nettie knew her cars. It was genetic or what-have-you; she got it from her dad who could’ve told you the date and make of any car on God’s highway. Crazy what a person thinks. Oh shit, gypsies, that was what she thought. I’ve been captured by gypsies.

Nettie blacked out.


$3.99
Limited time - ebook only.


The Doll Harvest is available now.


Buy Links

Paperback

Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

eBook



Ron Savage was a senior staff psychologist at a state mental health facility in Virginia and also had a private practice. Ron is the author of seven novels and two volumes of short stories, and has published more than 125 stories worldwide. He is the recipient of the Editor’s Circle Award in Best New Writing and was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Ron is a member of PEN America and has also been a guest fiction editor for Crazyhorse. Some of his publications can be found in Film Comment, the North American ReviewShenandoah, the Baltimore Review, and the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

Find Ron Savage at:


Facebook:

Twitter:
@DoctorRonz



#samplesunday is a great opportunity for you to get a look at our books. Make sure to follow us on Twitter to get notice of when: @DrivenPress



Sunday, 31 July 2016

THE DOLL HARVEST - Release Day.

The Doll Harvest

Driven Press welcomes suspense novel The Doll Harvest by Ron Savage to our catalogue. It is available in paperback and e-book formats world-wide today.



Blurb

The twins say I’m perfect and rare. “We had to look very hard to find someone like you.” I am admired.

On the steps of her quiet brownstone, Nettie Harnell smells the sickly sweet scent of chloroform moments before she is abducted.  When she awakens she’s in a dark basement chained to a post with nothing but memories of her mother and Paris to keep her company while she awaits her fate.

There is a shortage of medical donors in Philly, not that Carl and Vern Wachoski consider it a problem--it’s another business opportunity. Taking without permission has turned out to be incredibly lucrative, especially with Carl’s motto being “waste not, want not.” But Carl’s arrogance could cost them everything if they don’t watch out.

Dutch Harnell is no stranger to depression since the tragic and violent death of his wife and son eleven years before. Now it’s time for Dutch to pull himself together to save his one remaining family member, Nettie. With the help of Kapil Talpur, a young graduate student who witnessed the abduction, he finds himself drawn deeper into a world of greed and intrigue, where they can trust no one but themselves.


Excerpt


In less than two weeks it would be the eleventh anniversary of the shooting at John Parmentar Elementary. On April 2, 2005, a thirteen-year-old boy had walked into a West Philly elementary school with his dad’s submachine gun and five 30-round magazines. Dutch’s daughter was a kid then, two years older than what’s-his-face with the semi-automatic.

When Gunboy finished, he’d killed eleven students, two teachers, and himself. Blood was on everything: the polished gray floors, the mint-green walls. Blood flew onto the students and the teachers who were hiding under desks and behind doors. Later the hiders screamed and dug at the blood on their skin that wasn’t their blood. Later, two of the hiders killed themselves. They were ashamed they had hidden and lived. People who saw Gunboy said he was an overweight kid with scrubbed-pink skin and wild hair. He had on those Woody Allen type of glasses. Black-framed, over-sized. He’d worn an old gray sweatshirt and a pressed pair of chinos.

Reverend Harnell had an activist ministry. Even before the Parmentar attack, he would pack the church bus with parishioners and drive to any incidents that had firearms and damaged children. He wanted stronger regulations and a better way to treat mentally ill kids. Dutch wasn’t one to think every gun owner was going to shoot up the local bar or an elementary school. He didn’t want to change the Constitution, or stop people from protecting themselves and their families. He did think America had a lot of people, and buried in all those people were the fearful and the angry, and a lot of them were armed and looking for the great dark reason.

That he believed with all his heart.

. . . Gunboy, the reverend’s thought. That’s the name he deserves—just Gunboy.

Such a quiet, well-behaved kid—the stuff Dutch had heard. Nettie knew him, played a few video games with him, especially the one where you could steal cars and shoot up the town. People on the TV loved to blame video games for violence—that and movies. His daughter didn’t get it. The TV people liked to grab the easiest things, the things that didn’t get too personal. Oh. And drugs, too. Smoking that J, hittin’ that pipe. God, the horror of The Weed. Nettie had said she didn’t get Gunboy, either. She played the same games and saw the same summer movies, too—all the tough guys and comic book violence.

They were just games. They were just movies.

Nettie had told Dutch how she was like Gunboy, how her hair wouldn’t go right, just like him. And like him, kids made fun of her, too. She had a bad leg that was two and a half inches shorter than the other. The official name was LLD, Leg Length Discrepancy. Certain obtuse people in her class liked to tell “gimp” jokes. They found her deformity amusing. So, yeah, she got how fed up a guy could become, the way your average person could develop a “hey, suck on this” attitude. What she didn’t get was the last part, where you took a gun to school.

How did you leap from here to there?

Some adults and kids said Gunboy talked to himself as he shot people. There were children lying in the halls. Long smears of blood where kids had tried to drag themselves to safer places, but no places like that existed. Gunboy kept saying the same words over and over as he switched almost empty magazines for full ones.

“Double points,” he was reported saying. “Pow, got you! Got you! Got you! Double points.”

He was shooting at everything, people told the police—walls, overhead lights, closed glass and wooden doors. He shot kids and teachers who didn’t move. He shot kids and teachers who ran from him.


One of the teachers Gunboy killed was the reverend’s wife, Bess Harnell. One of the students was the reverend’s eight-year-old son, Saul.

The Doll Harvest is available now.


Buy Links

Paperback

Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

eBook

Driven Press
Amazon US
Amazon UK
iBooks
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Omnilit



Goodreads Giveaway

Here's an opportunity to win a paperback copy of The Doll Harvest on Goodreads. Enter here:



Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Doll Harvest by Ron Savage

The Doll Harvest

by Ron Savage

Giveaway ends August 06, 2016.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter Giveaway

About Ron Savage


Ron Savage was a senior staff psychologist at a state mental health facility in Virginia and also had a private practice. Ron is the author of seven novels and two volumes of short stories, and has published more than 125 stories worldwide. He is the recipient of the Editor’s Circle Award in Best New Writing and was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Ron is a member of PEN America and has also been a guest fiction editor for Crazyhorse. Some of his publications can be found in Film Comment, the North American Review, Shenandoah, the Baltimore Review, and the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

Find Ron Savage at:


Facebook:

Twitter:
@DoctorRonz