Today I'm happily showcasing author Eric Matheny's latest crime novel, The Victim. Enjoy the info about the book and the author and Eric's publicist is offering one lucky entrant one Kindle copy of the book.
ISBN-13: 978-1943549115
Publisher: Zharmae
Release Date: 8-17-2015
Length: 484 pp/820KB
Buy It: B&N/Amazon/Kobo
Publisher: Zharmae
Release Date: 8-17-2015
Length: 484 pp/820KB
Buy It: B&N/Amazon/Kobo
OVERVIEW:
Anton Mackey is a man with everything. At
least, he seems to be on the surface. He has a rising career as a private
attorney, a lovely wife, a beautiful daughter; he and his family live in an
idyllic neighborhood that most people dream about. Sure, there are troubles
that plague this family, the same as any other, but all in all things are
looking up. Life is good, and the future is better.
Except Anton has a past, too, and something
has been looming, bearing down on him from that history, just waiting for the
chance to strike. Soon, everything will change, and the life he’s struggled so
hard to build will come crashing down around him.
And the worst part of it all: Anton
Mackey has no one to blame but himself.
Giveaway is for one Kindle e-copy
of The Victim by Eric Matheny
Open Internationally
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Read an excerpt:
Chapter
1
March
16, 2003
Payson,
Arizona
He thought he was dead.
Steam hissed from the crumpled front end of the RV that had folded
accordion-style against the guardrail. His face stung from the punch of the
airbag. His lungs burned from that awful talcum powder that drifted through the
cabin as the bag deflated. The chemical dust, suspended in the air, seemed to
be frozen in time.
His nose was numb and swollen. He tasted blood trickling down the back
of his throat like a cocaine drip. He peered through the cracked windshield,
his eyes adjusting to the reddish glow of a desert sunrise. The crushed-in hood
had jarred upward. The chassis was off balance. The whole vehicle wobbled as he
shifted his weight in his seat.
Oh my God.
He cranked the door handle and heaved his shoulder into it to pop it
off the jamb. He hopped down onto the highway. The winds were heavy and dry,
rustling the sage and scrub oaks that dotted the rugged landscape along the
Beeline Highway. A sliver of fiery light barely illuminated the peaks of the
Mazatal Mountains, which rose and fell against the horizon. Giant saguaros
stood like sentries.
The back half of a red two-door sedan lay beneath the shredded front
tires of the RV. Flattened like an aluminum can. On impact the RV must have
bucked forward, rolling up onto the rear bumper of the smaller car, coming to
rest on its roof. The significant weight of the RV crushed the sedan into
something you might see stacked in a junkyard.
The highway was quiet. Just the rush of hot wind crackling the
delicate spines of the sagebrush. He got his bearings quickly, the initial
shock of the crash having passed. A sobering experience. Literally. Half a
handle of Jack Daniels coursing through his veins had been replaced by
something stronger.
Panic.
He saw long hair, a young female’s. How he could tell her age by the
back of her head, he would never know. Maybe by its length and sheen—bright,
yellow-blond. Slick with blood. Her forehead propped on the steering wheel. The
driver-side window blown out. The windshield was a shattered web.
The man beside her—or boy, he was arguably young—was out cold, his
body positioned in the passenger’s seat in a gimpy, off-kilter fashion. The
passenger side had been thrust into the guardrail, which molded itself to the
frame of the car. His head lolled against the door. Blood leaked from his ear
and ran down his neck.
“Are you okay?” he screamed, although he knew he would get no reply.
His voice resonated throughout the valley. “Hello?”
He braced himself against the ruined front end of the RV. He felt a
surge of bile and whiskey come up in the back of his throat. He heaved forward
but held it in. He was lightheaded.
Oh God,
please let this be a dream. Oh God, please...this can’t be happening, this
can’t be happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening...
Chapter
1
March
16, 2003
Payson,
Arizona
He thought he was dead.
Steam hissed from the crumpled front end of the RV that had folded
accordion-style against the guardrail. His face stung from the punch of the
airbag. His lungs burned from that awful talcum powder that drifted through the
cabin as the bag deflated. The chemical dust, suspended in the air, seemed to
be frozen in time.
His nose was numb and swollen. He tasted blood trickling down the back
of his throat like a cocaine drip. He peered through the cracked windshield,
his eyes adjusting to the reddish glow of a desert sunrise. The crushed-in hood
had jarred upward. The chassis was off balance. The whole vehicle wobbled as he
shifted his weight in his seat.
Oh my God.
He cranked the door handle and heaved his shoulder into it to pop it
off the jamb. He hopped down onto the highway. The winds were heavy and dry,
rustling the sage and scrub oaks that dotted the rugged landscape along the
Beeline Highway. A sliver of fiery light barely illuminated the peaks of the
Mazatal Mountains, which rose and fell against the horizon. Giant saguaros
stood like sentries.
The back half of a red two-door sedan lay beneath the shredded front
tires of the RV. Flattened like an aluminum can. On impact the RV must have
bucked forward, rolling up onto the rear bumper of the smaller car, coming to
rest on its roof. The significant weight of the RV crushed the sedan into
something you might see stacked in a junkyard.
The highway was quiet. Just the rush of hot wind crackling the
delicate spines of the sagebrush. He got his bearings quickly, the initial
shock of the crash having passed. A sobering experience. Literally. Half a
handle of Jack Daniels coursing through his veins had been replaced by
something stronger.
Panic.
He saw long hair, a young female’s. How he could tell her age by the
back of her head, he would never know. Maybe by its length and sheen—bright,
yellow-blond. Slick with blood. Her forehead propped on the steering wheel. The
driver-side window blown out. The windshield was a shattered web.
The man beside her—or boy, he was arguably young—was out cold, his
body positioned in the passenger’s seat in a gimpy, off-kilter fashion. The
passenger side had been thrust into the guardrail, which molded itself to the
frame of the car. His head lolled against the door. Blood leaked from his ear
and ran down his neck.
“Are you okay?” he screamed, although he knew he would get no reply.
His voice resonated throughout the valley. “Hello?”
He braced himself against the ruined front end of the RV. He felt a
surge of bile and whiskey come up in the back of his throat. He heaved forward
but held it in. He was lightheaded.
Oh God,
please let this be a dream. Oh God, please...this can’t be happening, this
can’t be happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening...
Praise for The Victim:
“The Victim
by Eric Matheny has a fast moving pace and a skillfully conceived plot with
quite a few twists and turns… A page turner, this legal thriller has all the
elements to hold reader interest from the first page to the last.” - Reviewed
by ReadersFavorite.com
“An
astounding legal thriller that is full of surprise, mystery and moral dilemma.
Matheny may well be the next Scott Turow.” – Reviewed by BestThrillers.com
Connect with Eric - Website - Facebook - Twitter- Goodreads
MEET ERIC:
Eric Matheny
was born in Los Angeles, California, where he lived until he went away to
college at Arizona State University. At ASU he was president of Theta Chi
Fraternity. He graduated with a degree in political science and moved to Miami,
Florida, to attend law school at St. Thomas University. During his third year
of law school, he interned for the Miami-Dade State Attorney's Office, where he
worked as a prosecutor upon graduation. In 2009, he went into private practice
as a criminal defense attorney. He is a solo practitioner representing clients
in Miami-Dade County, Florida, and Broward County, Florida. He has handled
everything from DUI to murder.
In his free
time, Eric enjoys writing crime fiction, drawing from his experience working in
the legal system. He published his debut novel Home in 2004, which centers around a successful drug dealer catering to
the rich in Orange County. His second novel Lockdown, published in 2005, follows a law student trying to prove that an
inmate serving a life sentence in one of California’s toughest prisons might
actually be innocent. Eric’s latest novel The
Victim, is a tense, fast-paced, legal thriller/psychological suspense novel
that centers around a young defense attorney whose horrifying misdeed from his
college days comes back to haunt him. It was published by Zharmae in August
2015 and is available for sale on Amazon.
Eric lives
outside of Fort Lauderdale with his wife and two young sons.
To learn
more, go to http://www.ericmathenybooks.com/
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a Rafflecopter giveaway
Ooo this sounds good! I loved that first line!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this Debbie and have a great weekend!
Thanks Ali, have a super holiday. Are you doing anything fun?
DeleteNow THAT's how you write a blurb. What did he do? What did she do?
ReplyDeleteYou gotta tell us if in case you're reading this book.
I know right. Thanks Braine :)
DeleteI need to read more crime novels. I'm trying this last part of the year to touch base with old genres again. :D
ReplyDeleteI know how you feel Anna
DeleteSounds like a good crime thriller.
ReplyDeleteIt does doesn't it :)
Delete