First Chapters: Brandon Massey, Karen Dionne, Tish Cohen

Special Thanks to our first set of October Roastees!! For your weekend viewing pleasure, here are first chapters from each of their books!!

Brandon Massey's DON'T EVER TELL

The night that changed Joshua Moore's life began, ironically, with a party.

On Sunday, December 16, Joshua and his wife, Rachel, hosted a holiday get-together at their home in south metro Atlanta. Over twenty people, a lively blend of family and friends, crowded into the four-bedroom house. It was their first time holding an event at their home since they had moved in five months ago, and Joshua's head was spinning from all the activity.
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Karen Dionne's FREEZING POINT

The wind howled around the solitary trawler like an angry god. Inside the wheelhouse, Ben Maki braced his feet as an errant wave hit broadside and the trawler listed heavily to starboard. Sleet spattered the windows on the port side. White patches of sea ice told him they were close. He gripped the back of the first mate’s chair and glanced at the captain.
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Tish Cohen's INSIDE OUT GIRL

The stench in his daughter’s darkened room nearly brought Len to his knees. Nothing quite pierced the nostrils like the harsh tang of death. Especially death four days later. Len held his breath as he threw back the curtains and leaned down over the bed.
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Brandon Massey: DON'T EVER TELL

The night that changed Joshua Moore's life began, ironically, with a party.

On Sunday, December 16, Joshua and his wife, Rachel, hosted a holiday get-together at their home in south metro Atlanta. Over twenty people, a lively blend of family and friends, crowded into the four-bedroom house. It was their first time holding an event at their home since they had moved in five months ago, and Joshua's head was spinning from all the activity.

People gathered in the family room, dining room, kitchen, living room, and hallway, eating, drinking, talking, and laughing. The dining room had been turned into a buffet, featuring a full spread of appetizers, desserts, and beverages such as crab cakes, hot wings, egg rolls, meatballs, pasta salad, peel-and-eat shrimp, cheeses, cookies, cakes, fruit punch, soda, wine, and a glass bowl brimming with rum-spiced eggnog. Holiday music played over the in-house stereo system, loud enough to enliven the mood but low enough to encourage conversation.

"You look dazed," Eddie Barnes said. Standing in the living room beside a seven-foot high Christmas tree that dwarfed his slight frame, Eddie nursed a glass of eggnog. "Take a load off and chill for a sec."

"Good idea." Careful not to spill his soda, Joshua sat on one of the new microfiber sofas they had purchased upon moving in. He stretched his legs in front of him-which, at his height of six feet five, was a considerable length. "I can't remember the last time I threw a party."

"I do," Eddie said. "Sixteenth birthday. In your parents' basement. I was the deejay, remember? Mixmaster E?"

"Man, that was a long time ago. Sixteen years?"

Eddie bobbed his clean-shaven head. "We're getting old, dawg. Married with kids and shit."

"Speak for yourself. I don't have any kids."

"They're on the way. See how much Rachel's been talking to Ariel? She's getting child-rearing tips, trust me. Look at 'em." Eddie motioned with his glass.

Joshua looked over his shoulder. Dressed in a red sweater, green slacks, and a cute Santa cap, Rachel was in the hallway speaking to Ariel, Eddie's wife. Ariel bounced their three-year-old son on her hip with practiced ease, while their six-year-old daughter pranced around them. Tanisha May, Rachel's business partner, was also part of the group. The two as-yet childless women resembled chicks taking lessons from a mother hen.

Joshua shrugged. "We're in no rush to have kids. We only got married six months ago. We're planning to just enjoy being married, do some traveling, you know."

"What's that saying? Man plans-God laughs. You never know what life'll hit you with. Be ready."
"You must've tipped some extra rum into that glass. You're talking crazy."

"I joke, but fatherhood is cool, Josh." Eddie gazed at his young children with a proud smile.

"Makes you grow up real quick. Can you honestly say, right now, that you would die for someone else?"

Joshua looked at Rachel again. As sometimes happened when he regarded her, his heart kicked, an almost painfully poignant feeling.

"I'd die for my wife," he said.

"Most definitely. Now take that same feeling that you'd sacrifice it all for her, and multiply it by ten-that's how you'll feel when you have children."

"How'd you feel when Ariel was pregnant?"

"Tired as hell. She'd be snoring so loud and rolling around in the bed so much I got maybe two hours of sleep a night. Sometimes I had to sleep in the guest room."

"Seriously? What else?"

"When she was walking around with my babies growing in her? Dude, if you had looked at her the wrong way, I might have jacked you. Some superman, protective thing kicks in. I didn't want her to go anywhere alone. Didn't want her to drive or lift anything. I was sort of tripping out for a minute."

"Sounds like it. Anyway, like I said, it'll be a while before Rachel and I get to that point."

"Do some traveling, yeah. Get your money right. Spend some more time getting to know each other."

"We already know each other pretty well, or else we wouldn't have gotten married."

"Nah, dawg. You're only six months in-you don't know each other yet. Talk to me after ten years."

"There you go." Joshua shook his head. "Newlyweds don't get any respect."

"It's all relative. My folks have been married damn near forty years, and they look at me and Ariel like we just met yesterday."

"I hear you. Hey, be back in a minute-I'm gonna grab another crab cake before they're all gone."
Joshua started to rise off the couch-and spilled his soda. Cola splashed onto the beige carpet. He swore under his breath and looked around for a napkin.

"I'll take care of that," Rachel said, suddenly beside him with a delicate hand on his arm.

"Sorry. You know how clumsy I can be."

"Don't say that, baby." She took a wadded napkin and pressed it against the darkening damp spot on the carpet. "Can you get some more ice out of the garage, please? Tanisha wants to make some strawberry daiquiris."

"Sure."

"Thanks, love."

Joshua glanced at Eddie, who had followed their interaction with amusement, and headed to the garage to fetch a bag of ice from the freezer. Eddie, he knew, could remember a time when his spilling a drink at a party would have provoked a hurtful remark from whoever happened to be his girlfriend at the moment. He had been dating since he was a teenager, but Rachel was the first woman who truly loved him for who he was, clumsiness and all.

Sometimes, he honestly wondered how she had fallen in love with him in the first place. He was no one special. He wasn't rich-he was a freelance graphic designer, and earned a reasonable but unremarkable income. He wasn't particularly handsome-though he was tall and husky, he wore thick glasses to correct a bad case of astigmatism, which back in the day his classmates had teasingly called "Coke bottles." And he sure as hell wasn't suave-no man with a knack for knocking over drinks, bumping into people, or dropping dishes could be considered smooth by any stretch of the imagination.

Further mystifying him was the fact that she, by comparison, was perfect. Sweet-hearted. Intelligent. Successful in her chosen profession as a hair salon owner and stylist. Supportive of his goals, and pursuing goals of her own. And not to overlook, she was absolutely fine-five feet six, with big pretty brown eyes, smooth skin the color of honey, and a body that would have roused the pulse of a dead man. Although he had often dreamed of finding a woman like Rachel, it had seemed one of those farfetched fantasies, like one might have of hitting the lottery some day.

But somehow, he had found her-and when he had told Eddie that he would die for her, he meant it.

Around nine, the last guest departed, and blessed calm took over the house. Joshua collapsed on the love seat in the family room, legs too tired to stand any more.

A minute later, Rachel entered from the kitchen. She eased onto his lap, languidly stretched her arms above her head, and released a deep sigh.

"Finally, we can relax," she said.

Coco, the three-year-old Chihuahua that Rachel had brought to their relationship, scampered across the room and leaped onto Joshua's lap, too. Restless from being caged upstairs during the party, the dog whined and tried to kiss Joshua on the mouth, and he gently nudged her away.

"Daddy doesn't want to give you smooches now, sweetie," Rachel said. She plucked Coco off his chest and tucked the dog against her breast like a purse. "Daddy's saving his kisses forMommy."
Tail wagging, the dog looked at Joshua longingly.

"I think she needs a boyfriend," he said. "Anyway, what do you think about the party? I thought it was a hit."

"Me, too. It was a lot of work, but everyone seemed to have a good time."

He studied her face. Although she had channeled her energies into hosting the party, he'd had the nagging sense that she was distracted by something. A couple of times during the event, he'd noticed her off to herself, not speaking to anyone, her gaze clouded, as if she were deeply immersed in thought.

Now, however, her eyes only looked tired.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Just wrung out."

"Too bad tomorrow's Monday. I'd love to sleep in."

"Oh, you're funny. You can sleep in, Mr. I Work from Home. I have to get up at the ass crack of dawn and open a salon."

"I meant I'd love to sleep in together." He touched her leg.

"Oh?" Mischief sparkled in her eyes.

"I'd like one of those long, lazy mornings. Hugging, cuddling."

"Hugging, cuddling, and other bedroom activities."

"Something like that."

"I can tell Tanisha I'll be in late and have someone cover my appointments." She set Coco on the floor. Then she placed her hand on his groin, and slowly began to massage.

"But why wait until tomorrow morning to get started?" she asked.

"You're not too tired?"

"Are you?" She squeezed him.

He groaned.

"Let's go upstairs."

"Let's not."

She began to pull her sweater over her head.

Although he thought he had a healthy sex drive, she was often insatiable. He knew she had been with men before him-though he didn't know how many and didn't care to ask-but he often got the sense that with him, she felt free to express herself in ways that she never had before. As if with him, she was free for the first time in her life.

Weird, but that was the impression he had.

At some point, they made their way upstairs to the master bedroom. Exhausted, they fell asleep, lying against each other like spoons in a drawer.

Later that night, he awoke to Rachel screaming.

Buy from Amazon

Thursday's Special Is...Don't Ever Tell!

DON'T EVER TELL by Brandon Massey

Buy From Amazon

"The talented Mr. Massey has the rare knack of grabbing the reader early and not letting go. In this relentlessly gripping novel the hold only gets tighter as the pages turn. Massey knows how to ratchet up the suspense. Tell everyone that DON'T EVER TELL is a crackling good thriller."—John Lutz, New York Times Bestselling Author

"Put the kids to bed, let the cat out, throw another log on the fire, you will not stop turning the pages of Brandon Massey's DON'T EVER TELL until you've gobbled every last morsel. A diabolical rocket sled of a book, this story is deceptively simple, carefully crafted out of lean, mean prose; but the pay-off is shattering--a tour de force of psychological suspense. Old grudges, dark secrets, and a ticking time bomb of a villain add up to an irresistible read. Highly recommended."—Jay Bonansinga, National Bestselling Author

Read the following excerpt, and answer the questions that follow for a chance to win a free copy of "Don't Ever Tell." Or, stop by and chat with Brandon!!!

Excerpt:

Tim Price was watching television behind the counter when Joshua entered the electronics shop. His mop of brown hair even more disheveled than usual—and that was saying a lot—Tim smoked a cigarette and sipped coffee from a Styrofoam cup. He scowled at Joshua’s entrance.

“Hey, man,” Joshua said.

“You back already?” Tim asked.

That day, Tim wore a long black tee shirt that read, in giant red and green text, “It’s a Black Thing—You Wouldn’t Understand.”

“Interesting shirt,” Joshua said.

“It’s a vintage shirt, dude. From like the 80s. Classic.”

Joshua heard a Public Enemy song playing on the stereo at low volume. His memory of the track’s title was fuzzy, but he thought it was “Fight the Power.”

“Is this Black Pride Day in Price Electronics?” Joshua asked.

“I appreciate all cultures, my brother,” Tim said and nodded sagely. He blew out a ring of smoke and grinned.

“Whatever. I need your help again.”

“With?”

Joshua placed the satchel on the counter and opened it. He withdrew the laptop and the cell phone.

“First, I need access to this computer. When I turn it on, I get stuck at the log on screen when it asks me for a password.”

Tim took a puff on his smoke, frowned.

“You don’t know your own password? Even when I’m at my most stoned, I remember my freakin’ passwords, dude.”

“This isn’t my computer. It’s my wife’s.”

“Then, duh? Why not ask her the password?”

He was not about to tell Tim what had happened. Although Tim was a friend, they had never shared details of their private lives with each other. Theirs was mostly a friendship that revolved around their work and hobbies.

“She’s not around for me to ask,” Joshua said.

“Your lady creeping around on you?”

“What?”

“Okay, it’s none of my business. But if you want some advice . . .”

“You ever been married, Tim?”

Tim blinked. “You crazy? Hell, no, that’s like, legalized bondage.”

“Exactly. So no, I don’t want any advice.”

“Suit yourself.” Tim shrugged, slid the laptop toward him and raised the lid. “What’re you looking for on here?”

“I need to look through some files. I’m not exactly sure which ones yet.”

“This is highly unethical, you know,” Tim said. “Invading your wife’s privacy and all. You one of those ultra-jealous, stalker husbands? Like that guy in that Julia Roberts movie, Sleeping with the Enemy or whatever?”

“It’s for a good reason, Tim, I promise.”

Squinting at Joshua, Tim tapped ashes into a tray that looked like a hollowed-out mouse pad.

“All right, look,” he said, “I can probably get in, but it’s not gonna help you much if she trashed all the files. She might’ve covered her tracks or whatever. I can recover deleted files, but that can get a little hairy.”

“Let’s deal with that later. I just want to get on the system and see what I find.”

Tim pointed at the cell phone with his cigarette. “What about that?”

“It has a password, too.”

“Damn, your wife is like, super private with her stuff. Who puts a password on a freakin’ cell phone?”

“She did.”

“What the heck is she hiding, man? Like, government secrets or something?”

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Questions:

1) How many hours of television does Brandon watch each day?
2) Make up your own t-shirt slogan: stick within the categories of books, writers, vegetarians, Brandon, or small, furry animals
3) Ahhh…. Marital advice. The gift that keeps on giving. Share a piece of advice that has helped you or a loved one enjoy bliss (PG-rated please!)