Thursday, September 12, 2019

September 12, 2019 0

#BookTour :: Justice Gone by N. Lombardi Jr.



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:


Next, just as Emily had predicted, came a member of the Crime Scene Investigation Unit from the New Jersey State Patrol; however, she had been wrong about the photos because this was the time that Fiske had been planning to introduce them. They were given to the jury to pass around among themselves, and naturally the shock value was not wasted on them, most of the members displaying expressions of disgust as they looked at the graphic pictures.
The witness, a tall man in his forties with his soft brown
hair parted classically on his left side, and wearing tortoiseshell glasses, confirmed what Cavaluzzi had previously testified to regarding the evidence gathered. The prosecution took a risk by emphasizing the shoe print found in the woods outside Puente’s house, comparing it to the prints they had cast from the combat boots Darfield was wearing when he was captured. For this, the witness was allowed to get out of the witness stand and enter the “well, that empty, sacrosanct space between the bench and the jury, a space that can only be entered with permission.
As you can see, the expert said, pointing to a projected image on a screen next to the court reporters table, “If we compare the casts, were struck by the extraordinary match in patterns. They are no doubt the same type of boot, the standard issue military boots used in the Marines.”
“Thank you, Dr. Robert.”
Dr. Robert put down his pointer on the prosecution’s table and returned to his seat in the witness box.
“Cross?”
Bodine stood up, having already made the decision to go into his Stevie Wonder–Ray Charles routine of looking off into odd angles. He started by turning his head toward the upper left, rather than the expected straight ahead, a move that practically assures throwing the witness off-balance, a shady trick Bodine learned early on in his career. “Dr. Robert, do you know exactly the date and approximate time that this shoe print was made?” he asked, looking up at the left corner of the ceiling.
“No, of course not. That’s a ridiculous question.”
Bodine swiveled his head to face straight ahead and raised his eyebrows above his dark sunglasses. “Oh, is it? I thought perhaps it would be important to know when that print was made. Wouldn’t you?”
Dr. Robert remained quiet for a few seconds, regretting his rash reply.Yes, of course.”
Now Bodine aimed his head toward the right corner of the ceiling. You have any means of determining that? Chemical tests?”
“No, not exactly…we rely on…” “Radioactive dating?”
Once again the witness was lockjawed, a tightly shut angry expression on his face. Are you trying to make a mockery of forensics work, Mr. Bodine?”
Now Bodine snapped his head back to face where he knew the witness box was, his black sunglasses focused intently on Dr. Robert. I don’t think you know the rules here. I ask the questions, you answer them. Answer the question!”
“Objection!”
“Overruled. Witness will answer.” “No. No such testing exists.”
“What kind of soil was the shoe print found in?” “Clay-type soil.”
I should think it was dry at the time you examined the shoe print, yes?”
“In most places, yes.”
“But it was a good print though, wasn’t it? I mean in terms of depth into the soil and the details of the sole markings?”
Yes, it was an excellent sample.”
“Is clay a good material for holding shoe print samples for a length of time, let’s say, as opposed to sand?”
“Under most circumstances, I would say that is true, clay is an excellent preserver of prints.”
“But, of course, the clay would have to be wet when the print was made, yes?”
Yes, of course.”
“When it’s dry, it’s difficult to leave a good print, is that correct?’
“Correct.”
“So, whoever made that print, made it when the ground was wet?
“That’s a fair assumption.”
Emily handed her father a sheet of paper, which Bodine then held up in the air. Your Honor, this is a copy of Defense Exhibit 1, which the State has already received during the discovery phase. I ask permission for the witness to examine it.”
The bailiff came, took the sheet of paper, and handed it over to the witness.
Bodine, now ceasing his blind celebrity pantomime, focused his head right at Dr. Robert. “That is the record of rain days obtained from the New Jersey meteorological department. I’m sure you recall that we had a very bad drought last summer; the record you are looking at shows that the last day it rained before those men were killed was thirty-three days prior. In other words, according to the discussion we just had about wet clay, the print could only have been made about a month before those men were killed. Is that the conclusion that you would reach?”
Dr. Robert squirmed in the witness chair. “Not necessarily. If there was a constant shade it might remain moist.”
“When you say constant, you mean throughout the day, from sunrise to sunset, yes?”
Dr. Robert hesitated for a second, before admitting, Yes.” “Was that the case here?”
“When I examined the print and made the cast, there was some shade, yes.”
And what time of the day was that?” “I have to refer to my notes.”
“Just tell us approximately.” About seven o’clock.”
“That’s nearly sunset for late August, isn’t it?” “I suppose so.”
“So you can’t be sure if there’s any shade there during the heat of the day?”
“No.”
“Thank you. Now let’s talk about the pattern of the print you found. Do you know the brand name or model of the boots Mr. Darfield was wearing when he was arrested, based on the pattern?”
“Danner USMC, RAT, Hot Weather.” “RAT, rat?”
“Rugged All Terrain. The model is the most common one worn by our men and women serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. It’s a unisex boot. He smiled lamely, as if he just made a joke.
Tell me, Dr. Robert, these military boots, are they available in retail stores, say, what they call, Army-Navy shops?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Gotcha, you silly liar! Are you sure?”
“Objection, Your Honor,Fiske shouted, “the witness has already answered the question.”
“Sustained.”
“Sorry,Bodine said in mock apology, I just want to be clear on this, and an I don’t think so is not enough. So let me put it in another way. Dr. Robert, are you telling me that I myself, an ordinary person, could not purchase these shoes at a retail outlet, even on the internet?”
I think they would be hard to find.”
Bodine turned and, right on cue, Emily handed him a pair of combat boots, his right hand instinctively receiving them, as if this were a practiced act, but then dropping them to remind the jury of his blindness, which was made more emphatic when Emily went underneath the table to retrieve them and tenderly put them in his wavering hands.
“Dr. Robert, I want you to examine these shoes. Permission to approach the witness.”
“Denied. Hand them to the bailiff.”
The bailiff took the shoes and gave them to Dr. Robert. “Tell me, are these boots similar?”
Dr. Robert took each shoe in turn, examining the soles while doing a lot of squinting. I would say, similar, yes, but not exact.”
“How similar?”
“Objection, Your Honor. He’s asking a vague question that can only have a vague reply, causing the witness to speculate.”
The judge scratched his chin. “Speculate? No, I don’t think so. Overruled. Witness, answer the question.”
Very similar.”
Bodine made a slight turn to face in a direction he intuitively knew was where the judge was perched. Your Honor, if it pleases the court, I would like to admit these as Defense Exhibit
2. I would further request that a cast be made of the soles for comparison with State’s exhibits 2A and B, so that the jury can examine for themselves. The bailiff took the shoes and placed them on the exhibit table.
“Objection! These items should have been disclosed during discovery!”
“My investigator just bought them last evening, Bodine said snidely. “I’m admitting the receipt as well, from Sullivan’s Fish and Game Shop in Scranton, with yesterday’s date recorded.”
Fiske snarled, but said nothing. In his head though, a little voice said, Sneaky bastard, he arranged the purchase weeks ago, with the understanding of picking them up today and asking for the receipt.
“No more questions, Your Honor.” “Witness, you are excused.”
Dr. Robert got out of the witness box, crossed the well, opened the little gate of the bar, and exited the courtroom with a briskness that displayed his foul mood.
The judge addressed the courtroom. “I’m going to order a recess for lunch. Court adjourns until one o’clock. He banged his gavel and everyone made a move to leave.


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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Saturday, August 10, 2019

August 10, 2019 0

#BlogTour :: The Missing Fairy Princess by Walter Salvadore Pereira

The Missing Fairy Princess by Walter Salvadore Pereira

~ Book Tour~
11th to 17th August

About the Book:
“The Missing Fairy Princess” is the story of a 16-year-old fairy princess pitted against a powerful witch. The witch has stolen a potent new mantra developed by a colleague, ruthlessly snuffing out a brilliantly innovative mind.  She then hatches an elaborate plot to frame an adversary for her misdeed.  Her intention is to exact sweet revenge from her foe and at the same time, get away with the theft.  The victim, caught in her vicious web, is doomed to disgrace and a life sentence on a harsh penal colony. Meanwhile, the witch learns from her crystal ball, about an imminent threat from a fairy princess wearing a pink tiara.  To ward off that threat she kidnaps the fairy princess, wipes her memory clean and then turns her into a two-year-old girl.  

Unfortunately for the culprit, she has goofed up by kidnapping the wrong fairy princess, Merlyn, instead of Ashlyn, her twin.  The mistake turns out to be the undoing of the witch because Ashlyn proves to be her nemesis.  The brilliant fairy princess exposes the cobweb of misleading evidence fabricated by the witch, ultimately unmasking her.

If you love mystery, whodunit, with a dash of magical realism and sci-fi, this book is for you.

Book Links:


Cleanliness


“Cleanliness” ~ a topic which has featured so prominently in Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s speeches whenever he addressed gatherings across the country, Swachh Bharat!

Despite the rigorous drive by the central government, it is disheartening that except in small pockets, the larger picture that emerges is that there has been no appreciable improvement.

Why is it so difficult to inculcate the habit of cleanliness in us Indians?  This question gives rise to a plethora of others.  Is it inborn and so deep-rooted that it has become uncorrectable?  Have we been always like this and have fallen into a rut!

Certainly, not!  History attests that for bygone centuries India had an unblemished record as a much admired country.  Our hospitality matched our wealth and surroundings.  Our famed structures like Taj Mahal and Qutub Minar attracted visitors from all over the world, praising our land.  Given such a glorious background, how does one explain the degeneration to present abysmal depths?

Also, one mustn’t forget that the issues of overall cleanliness and environment damage although distinctly separate, are definitely correlated.  One has to take a look at the pathetic condition of our famed river of Ganga which at places reeks of raw sewage, despite 22,000 crores claimed to have been spent during the last four years.  In Mumbai, the Mithi river has been reduced to an open sewer and is an eye sore, again after humongous amounts of public money supposedly spent on cleaning it.

Those born in 30’s and 40’s would agree with me that the conditions in those days weren’t as pathetic like those one sees today.  There is a plausible theory that the industrialization was the cause of the fast deterioration.  If that indeed is the case, then it inevitably gives rise to a serious question; one of dereliction of duty. Unquestionably, the finger of blame points squarely at the watchdog authorities, including the governments at the centre and the states.  Were they so consumed in their eternal fights for power that ‘minor’ issues such as the blatant environment damage taking place so openly all over the country, were ignored overriding the persistent grave warnings from the environmentalists.  In the process, some of those politicians succeeded in turning the national calamity to their advantage, abetting the defaulters by fraudulent means by lining their own pockets. 

I am sure we could discuss this issue for hours, but at the end, it would emerge as a classic example of the ‘fence feeding on the crop’!  The present policy of the ‘carrot and stick’ hardly has shown a worthwhile improvement.  It seems imperative that sterner and punitive measures are called for.  

I cannot resist the temptation of quoting an interesting anecdote. There is the proven case of a tiny state in the Far East which was struggling to come to terms with filth and squalour and a true visionary leader transformed it into a country which is now proud of its environmental achievements.  Many years ago, a visitor stepped out of the International Airport and even as he was looking for a cab, succumbed to the habit of spitting.  In the blink of an eye, a marshal materialized and gave the man a receipt for 500 dollars in local currency, pointing to a prominent notice prohibiting spitting.  Apparently, there was further misery in store for the despondent visitor.  Another marshal handed him a pail and a groom and ordered him to clean a stretch of around 100 feet as a token punishment.

There is a colloquial saying that you cannot expect one’s hand to produce the results what a stick alone can do. May be it is time for our authorities to shift gears and adopt tougher legislation to discipline the legions of errant citizens blatantly spitting and littering.  Many years ago, it was a common sight to see people urinating at dark corners, with the result one had to block one’s nostrils while passing such stinking spots.  Subsequently, someone came up with a brilliant idea of putting up ceramic tiles with the picture of prominent deities at such places, the results were noteworthy.  Unfortunately, the idea didn’t have the desired results in curbing spitting.

Mere sloganeering will not help!  The change has to take place at the grassroots level. The parents and teachers have a greater role to play in moulding the young minds.  A recent advertisement on TV comes to mind where a child sees her mother throw a wrapper in a park and replicates it later at a public place.  The rebuke from mother has the kid saying the former did exactly the same thing in the park, causing acute embarrassing as well as realization of her folly in the mother.  It pains one to see even educated youngsters indulging in wanton littering from the trains, buses or cars involving plastic bottles, wrappers and plastic sachets with little regard to the environmental damage they are causing.  That also applies to the disgusting habit of spitting which we have formed maybe due to of our pan-chewing habit.

I can recall yet another significant effect of the role of the teacher.  My granddaughter was in the first grade then.  One day we saw her coming home inconsolable, tears rolling down her cheeks even though she had left her class a good 10-15 minutes earlier.  The reason as it transpired was that the teacher has explained to the class how unscrupulous builder were irresponsibly cutting down trees to make way for new buildings, thereby destroying what the nature has taken centuries to build.  Such was the impact on the young mind of a five-year-old that she was prepared to take part into a demonstration against the errant builders.

Precious moments are ticking and with every passing minute, the mankind is racing towards an inevitable tryst with doom.  The nature sounded a number of loud warnings, but if we stupidly continue to ignore them, we would be dropping the proverbial axe on our own feet.


About the Author:
After spending over 25 years in the Middle East, the author, aged 75, now leads a retired life.  He lives with his wife and son in Thane, near Mumbai. He has been passionate about writing from his early days.  His first book was a fast-paced sci-fi novel titled “This Nightmare is for Real”, was self-published. That was followed by a historical fiction titled “Bheem – The Sage of Madhavpur”, again a self-publication.  A third book, a fairy tale titled “The Missing Fairy Princess” which was published on Kindle Select during the first week of June 2019, while a fourth on the oft-discussed topic of cross-border terrorism titled “The Carnivore has a Heart” is slated for publication shortly thereafter again on Kindle Select.

Contact the Author:




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