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Tuesday, 12 November 2019

The Sinners

The Sinners by Sourabh Mukherjee

~ Release Day Blitz ~

12th November


The Sinners by Sourabh Mukherjee


About the Book:


Vikram Oberoi is found dead in his penthouse. A few hours ago, his involvement in a sex scandal in NexGen Technologies made headlines across the world.


Who is behind the sinister conspiracy that destroyed Vikram Oberoi, the philandering India Head of NexGen? Rivals within and outside the firm? One of his many jilted lovers or the miffed wife? A mysterious conspirator laying out honey traps to sabotage his plans? Or, is it the ghost of a sinful past that continues to haunt the Oberois?


The Sinners is a fast-paced thriller with a shocking twist that unravels against the backdrop of corporate warfare, illicit relationships and ruthless seduction games.





Book Links:

Read an Excerpt:
Agastya picked up the call from a private number after the third
ring, taking his eyes off the monitor in front of him.

“Is this Agastya Bakshi?”

“Yes… who’s this?”

“Agastya, my apologies for calling you late. I assure you this won’t
take too long. But, we need to talk in private. Where are you right now?” The
male voice at the other end of the line sounded authoritative. Agastya could
not recall having heard the voice earlier.

Agastya looked around the near-empty office and said, “I am at
work, but we can talk. Not too many people around at this time of the night.” His
curiosity, by this time, was at its peak.

It was past eleven. It was the third time that week that Agastya had
to work through the night. Hired a couple of years back, his work as an engineer
in the Network and Systems Division of NexGen kept him rooted in front of
computer screens through his days and very often, his nights. Agastya did not
have much of a social life. A clumsy desk littered with pizza crumbs, empty cartons
and soda cans, and a paunch growing at an alarming rate – that was what his life
had been reduced to. But, he did not complain. Agastya loved his job.

“Great! Then let’s talk business. I’m sorry I cannot disclose my
name. I belong to a private investigation agency that’s currently looking into
the dealings of the company you are working for. There are reports of certain
financial irregularities in the business.”

Agastya sat up straight in his chair.

“Okay! But, what - what do you want from me?” Agastya asked tentatively. “I work in Network and Systems. I
don’t think you have the right number!”

“Agastya, I know who I am talking to,” there was an almost
imperceptible hint of annoyance in the voice of the man at the other end of the
line. He went on, “We need access to the e-mail accounts of some of the top
guys in your company to check their correspondences. And I’ve been told that you
are the right man for the job.”

Agastya took a sip of the cola that had already gone flat.

“Why - why me? You can
speak to my Manager in the morning. He -“

The voice at the other end of the line did not let him finish.

“Agastya, this is a covert operation and we are a private agency.
We cannot turn up at your office with an order to gain access to these
accounts. Also, right now, we’re not sure how many of the big guys are involved
and in what ways. For all you know, your boss – the Systems Manager you are
referring to - might as well be a party! Let’s not forget that, he has access
to all records of transactions. We do not want anyone getting alert and
tampering with the data we are looking for. We cannot risk exposure. It’ll take
us some time to complete the basic investigation. And I’d really appreciate
your cooperation while we are at it. Once we have enough evidence at our
disposal, we will make this official.”

Agastya thought for a few minutes. The whole thing could be a
hoax, for all it’s worth!

“Look… how do I trust you?”

“I knew you’re going to ask, Agastya. We’ll be completely
transparent with you. One of my agents will get in touch with you. You’ll be
working with her. I want you to hand over the details to her in person. This is for reasons of
safety. And also, to make sure that you put faces to names. We want to win your
trust and make sure that you are
comfortable working with us because, as I said, this investigation isn’t going
to get over in a day. We’ll need to work together for a while.”

“I - I’ll need to think this through. What’s in it for me?”

“We’ll most certainly compensate for your time and your
cooperation. And I can assure you that, you will have no reason to complain
about the money. Don’t worry about that,” the voice sounded reassuring. Agastya
did a quick mental calculation of the remaining EMIs for his new car. Almost at
the same time, the full front-page advertisement of the upcoming apartment complex
in South Mumbai flashed before his eyes.

The voice continued, “So I gather we’re good to go here, right?”

Agastya mumbled an uncertain “Well…”

The voice did not seem to care.

“Thanks for your co-operation, Agastya. Ruchika will get in touch
with you shortly. Have a good rest of the night at work.” The man hung up.

Agastya looked disbelievingly at his phone. Agastya wondered if he
should call someone and discuss. The next moment, he decided against it. The
man did sound like he meant business. And, in any case, Agastya was the one in
charge. He was the one who had access to the data the agency was asking for. He
was willing to give it a shot if the money was good. If, at any point in time,
he had any reason to doubt the authenticity of the agency, he could always step
back. Maybe even report the guy to appropriate authorities. He could always
make an honest confession.

He put the phone down on his desk and went back to monitoring the
data backup jobs. In a couple of minutes, his phone buzzed.

“Hey, this is Ruchika” – said the Whatsapp message.

About the Author:
Sourabh is the author of two psychological thriller novels The Colours of Passion: Unravelling Dark Secrets behind the Limelight (Readomania) and  In the Shadows of Death: A Detective Agni Mitra Thriller (Srishti Publishers and Distributors); Romance Shorts, a collection of dark-romance short stories; a 2-part series Beyond 22 Yards (Srishti Publishers and Distributors) on stories of Love and Crime from the world of cricket and a 7-part series of short stories titled It’s All About Love (Srishti Publishers and Distributors). The titles in the series are The Gift, The Cookery Show and a Love Story, A Special Day, Masks, An Autumn Turmoil, The Hunt, The Death Wish.


A keen observer of human behaviour and cultural diversities, Sourabh loves travelling and has travelled widely across five continents. An avid reader of fiction, Sourabh is equally passionate about photography, movies and music.


Connect with the Author:




Giveaway:

A Paperback Copy of The Sinners by Sourabh Mukherjee.

Open till 25th November, 2019
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Saturday, 14 September 2019

Justice Gone

About the Book:


When a homeless war veteran is beaten to death by the police, stormy protests ensue, engulfing a small New Jersey town. Soon after, three cops are gunned down.

A multi-state manhunt is underway for a cop killer on the loose. And Dr. Tessa Thorpe, a veteran's counselor, is caught up in the chase.

Donald Darfield, an African-American Iraqi war vet, war-time buddy of the beaten man, and one of Tessa's patients, is holed up in a mountain cabin. Tessa, acting on instinct, sets off to find him, but the swarm of law enforcement officers gets there first, leading to Darfield's dramatic capture.

Now, the only people separating him from the lethal needle of state justice are Tessa and ageing blind lawyer, Nathaniel Bodine. Can they untangle the web tightening around Darfield in time, when the press and the justice system are baying for revenge?


Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon




  

Winner of Three Awards:

2019 American Fiction Award

National Indie Excellency Award - Best Legal Thriller of 2019

Silver Medal Winner 2019 - Readers' Favorites Awards

Chosen by Wiki.ezvid.com among their list of 10 Gripping and Intelligent Legal Thrillers


Reviews for Justice Gone:

The courtroom scenes are wonderfully written...the characters are well described and the author paints a picture of each in the mind of the reader...Strong plot, strong characters and a strong writing style that I really enjoyed. This one is a definite "thumbs-up." Strongly recommend! I look forward to reading additional works by N. Lombardi, Jr.

Kim M Aalaie, Author's Den


One of my favorite suspense novels of the year. It will make you question the legal system.

The Eclectic Review


The courtroom action is excellent, trimmed to the most gripping parts of the trial, with plenty of emotional impact...a fairly realistic portrayal of the way small-town US society works...a fast-moving story with plenty of dramatic moments, and a big twist in the final pages.

Crime Review 


Read an Excerpt:




The expected law enforcement professionals responded to
Angel
a Fratollini’s 911 call—not all at once, but in prompt succession. Two patrol units  showed
 up,  followed
 shortly by
an ambulance with two paramedics who approached the prone body and attempted to find a pulse  before
 looking  at
eac
h other and shaking
their heads. Not long after, Bruntfield Homicide Detectives Cavaluzzi and Ryan arrived, already aware of the identity of the deceased as one of the officers involved in
the Felson beating, and immediately examined the car and the
dead body slumped in its trunk before calling in the crime scene forensics squad. Having done that, they entered the
hous
e to interview
Mrs. Fratollini. They had hardly exchanged
introduction
s when someone from the Medical Examiners Office had
turned up, interrupting the questioning. Following him was the Crime Scene Investigation
Unit from the New Jersey State
Police
, who had accepted
the request for help from Len Peterson, acting chief of police for Bruntfield Township. A photographer, a fingerprint specialist, and
a crime
scene mapper from the same unit joined their Bruntfield
counterparts.
It was only then that Cavaluzzi and Ryan were able to sit
dow
n and have a chat with Mrs. Fratollini.
She had heard him pull up, she told them, heard him get out and open the trunk of the car. Then she thought she heard her
husband say something, to which she replied,
What?
but got no response. As she was in the middle of a TV show, she sat
down again on the couch. After fifteen minutes, when Mr. Fratollini had still not entered the house, she went outside to see what he was up to, and
that’
s when she
disco
vered her husband flopped inside the trunk,
and all that blood!”
At that
point
, Mrs. Fratollini lost her
contro
l and wept.
While tryin
g to calm her down, Cavaluzzi got a call on his mobile. The story
he got over the phone was that an evening paperboy
had seen a body on the ground in a pool of blood, and had raced home
to promptly tell his mother, who in turn had promptly
calle
d the police. And would you believe it? What seemed to be yet another chillingly similar shooting had taken place just a few miles from this one!
And so they all exited the scene in the order they had come, proceeding to 74 Elmore Lane. Cavaluzzi, in the unmarked car that
Ryan was driving, had the instinct to call the Motor Vehicle Department to get an ID that matched that address: John Fox. He went into emergency mode and grabbed for his cell phone.
“Hello, Chief Peterson, have all
unit
s proceed to the house of Rafael Puente…look up his address…and all the other officers involved in the Felson incident…send all available units to those residences!”
But by the time two of the available units got to where
Puent
e lived, he and his dog had been dead for at least an hour. Orders had by then already been given to cover the homes of the
remaining three officers involved in Jay Felson’s death, who were so far spared a similar fate. A dragnet
that encircled all six sites was implemented by both the Bruntfield police and the
New Jersey State Troopers, with barricades set up on all the exit roads out of town. Everyone was stopped,
told to get out, and interrogated. Bruntfield units patrolling the side streets
haule
d in any suspicious
person they saw, but all of them were eventually
released after irrefutably ruling them out
as
suspects.
It seemed that the perpetrator had already fled, staying one step
ahea
d of his pursuers.

Murders are the stuff of local news. Nobody could have been more
exuberant about
suc
h events than the press
an
d TV people who regularly
make a living from the dark side of human behavior. They swarmed over the story like ants on a ham sandwich dropped in the woods. As expected, it was received
as a gem of a headline, not only by the Bruntfield
Daily
, but also by
regiona
l papers such as the New York Post, the New York Daily News, and the Philadelphia Inquirer. And this time,
becaus
e of the extraordinary act of pulling off three similar murders within a few hours—the victims, cops, no less—the story even made it to the front pages of the New York Times and the Washington
Post
.
Tessa sat and stared at the newspaper in front of her, silent
tear
s streaming down her cheeks. Ten minutes perhaps, she sat
ther
e quietly anguished
before she dumped her face onto the
newspape
r and began to sob. Her worst fears had materialized. She lifted her face up a few inches,
opened the paper, and wrapped it around her head insulating
herself like an ostrich submerging
it
s head in the sand, bawling away. She felt someone touching her hands and looked up with black newsprint smudged all over her face to see Ed, Penny, and Casey standing
before her with
equall
y mournful faces.


Meanwhile, a hundred miles to the
west, at the same time that Tessa was crying into her newspaper, Bruntfield was
practically on lockdown. A shelter-in-place order was in effect, meaning in
simple terms, stay where you are and don’t leave until further notice.
Checkpoints prevented people from entering or leaving the areas of the crime
scenes, as well as the neighborhoods of the three other ex-officers, even
though those men were apparently being protectively sequestered by the
authorities in undisclosed locations. Schools were closed, not only in
Bruntfield, but in the nearby townships as well. People locked their doors and
windows and slept with the lights on. The police, through the news anchors of
local television, advised everyone to keep all garage doors and sheds closed
and secured. Gun owners had their weapons locked and loaded. Law enforcement
officers were everywhere to be seen.


About the Author:

N. Lombardi Jr, the N for Nicholas, has spent over half his life in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East, working as a groundwater geologist. Nick can speak five languages: Swahili, Thai, Lao, Chinese, and Khmer (Cambodian).

In 1997, while visiting Lao People's Democratic Republic, he witnessed the remnants of a secret war that had been waged for nine years, among which were children wounded from leftover cluster bombs. Driven by what he saw, he worked on The Plain of Jars for the next eight years.

Nick maintains a website with content that spans most aspects of the novel: The Secret War, Laotian culture, Buddhism etc.

His second novel, Journey Towards a Falling Sun, is set in the wild frontier of northern Kenya.

His latest novel, Justice Gone was inspired by the fatal beating of a homeless man by police.

Nick now lives in Phnom Penh, Cambodia


Follow the Author:

Website * Goodreads * Amazon




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