It’s not what you think. Regardless of my tenured years, and personally qualifying as being over the danged hill, I’m talking about a different hill. Picture an arc, or a mountain. Then imagine the journey. You know, the writing a book journey. I’ve been working on my next novel, INVISIBLE SURVEILLANCE, which is the sequel to POWERLESS CONSENT, for over a year now. I know, I know, far too long.
I feel like I’ve trudged up the hill carrying my sled. Along the journey, I struggled to keep my footing, rubbed out the ache in my shoulders, and was out of commission with a mild case of writer’s frostbite for at least two months. In spite of that, I’ve survived the sagging middle, gleefully filled in all the plot holes, knocked out several record-word-count-days and can proudly say that I can see the finish line.
Now that I’ve caught my breath and got a great grip my sled, I’m ready to slide all the way to the end.
INVISIBLE SURVEILLANCE – The Inspirational/Romantic Suspense continuation of POWERLESS CONSENT.
Insert Hero: Jack Oakes, the CIA agent/loner who’s found his match.
Insert Heroine: Callie Hunter – Invisible Surveillance director who’s finally been rescued.
Insert the unthinkable…Rick Powell is back.
Here’s a sneak peek at page one.
Cambria, California – October 22nd – 10:07 a.m.
Ten seconds before the knife penetrated him, Jack Oakes accepted the fact he was about to die. Being a CIA Agent, he’d had his share of scuffles, but he’d never looked pure evil in the eye.
He yelled hoping to deter the inevitable. The blade puncturing his gut hurt like hell. His shirt blossomed a bright red before his eyes. With every ounce of strength he had, he wrestled with the handcuffs. No doubt his wrists were bloody, too. The sweat dripping from his brow stung his eyes yet managed to steady his senses. He blinked until he had clear sight. Shackled by fear and totally powerless, he peered into the eyes of his assailant. He wanted to kick the SOB but his legs felt like bricks and wouldn’t move. A buzzing sound hummed in his ears and he felt outside of himself. That couldn’t be good.
Jack’s head bounced back and hit the wall at the sound of gun fire. Another surge of pain bit into his stomach as the blade released. His assailant fell back in a whoosh with the knife still clutched in his hand.
“Jack!” Her trembling voice echoed from the doorway.
Although she ran toward him, she appeared to grow farther away. Farther and farther than he could understand.
Coming soon! Say a little prayer that I make my deadline!