A Little Taste of City of Lies
A Gripping Tale of Identity, Crime, and Survival… Claire Preston, a script reader for a Hollywood movie studio, has recently lost her mother. Discovering she was adopted as a baby, she goes on a perilous quest for her true identity.
Assisted by her mentor, the seasoned private investigator, Jake Sterling, Claire delves deeper into her past, only to unearth a labyrinth of secrets more daunting than she ever envisioned. Soon, she finds herself in the crosshairs of a ruthless serial killer—an ex-Nazi fugitive evading justice for decades.
As Claire confronts her heritage, grapples with danger, and races against time to evade the clutches of a deadly predator, she finds herself wondering: Is uncovering the truth in a city of lies even possible?
Experience the chilling twists and turns of a tale where identity, mystery, and survival converge in the heart of 1968 Los Angeles.
Another Taste
The Sounds of
Silence
The streets were dark with something more than night.
~Raymond
Chandler
Hollywood, April 1968
“Of all the dirty rotten maggoty things to do. That’s my twist. You stole my ending,” Claire Preston hissed at the movie screen.
The story about a woman going missing and the authorities arresting her abusive husband for murder had seemed familiar from the opening credits. His going to prison for life and swearing his innocence, with no one—not even his lawyer—believing him anything but guilty. Then the dramatic twist. Her showing up on screen alive at the end, twenty-five years later, in the visiting room at the prison and driving the knife home. The motive and name of the movie: Retribution. The woman had lost her unborn baby from the ongoing abuse and could never have another, more than enough motive to do the nasty. And all Claire’s idea.
A plot she’d skimmed as a script reader from the seemingly endless slush pile over at New Pictures Studio. Someone had used her notes to save the lame script from the dustbin.
“Is there a problem here?” The usher shone a flashlight directly in her face, giving her a new target.
You bet your sweet ass there’s a problem. “No problem. I was just leaving.” It wasn’t fair to take out her ire on the pimply-faced attendant in his ill-fitting burgundy jacket.
She fumed all the way down the red carpeted aisle to the street exit before shoving the cold metal door open with more force than strictly necessary, more upset with herself for letting it get to her, than by what she’d just witnessed.
The door clanked closed behind her, and the cool, moist air instantly enveloped her like a heavy embrace. An unusual turn of weather for LA in the fall, but welcomed. Maybe it would head off the usual rash of fires? She tugged the collar of her coat closed and yanked the belt tight around her waist. No credit for the idea, okay, she could live with that. But they could have at least said thank you or done something—taken her out for a drink or a decent meal or sent her flowers. Instead, they’re pretending it never happened.
Not cool.
She got into her white Ford Fairlane in front of the Starlight Theatre at the headwaters of the Los Angeles River and headed west toward the Sunset Strip and her small apartment on Sycamore Avenue. Why had she bothered to stop and see the movie her friend Serena had insisted she’d like? Now she had to live with knowing what the studio was capable of. But then again, knowledge was power.
She pulled out a Salem cigarette, slipped it between her lips, then punched in the knob for the electric heater on the dash. When it was ready, she applied the red-hot wire to the tip while drawing the soothing heat deep into her lungs, feeling the head rush, before letting it escape into a series of satisfying smoke rings.
The sun was dying a slow death, making her squint in self-defense. The glare kept her from seeing what needed to be seen, a black dog streaking out in front of her car on the bridge. She braked hard, catching sight of it at the last second, slamming her left foot right down to the floorboards, the cigarette flying out of her mouth.
Her body slammed forward, the seat belt cutting painfully into her chest. The vehicle lurched sideways and into the path of another vehicle, eastbound. The blacktop vanished. Unable to comprehend the speed at which her world had imploded, Claire was helpless, the vehicle air born. Something wet dripped into her eyes, stinging, and making her blink rapidly in efforts to see clearly.
“Oh my god!” The words burst from numb lips, her hands clutching at the steering wheel in horror.
The car slammed into the water a few seconds later, a river swollen and angry from a torrential rainstorm earlier in the day. Terrified, she watched the water rising around her. She struggled to undo her seat belt, but her hands shook so badly it seemed an impossible challenge.
More about the January
January Bain firmly believes that stories unite us, that good stories help us to discover the commonality of the human experience by supporting values, empathy and understanding. January writes with her heart, mind, and soul, hoping that her novels will touch your life, giving you moments of freedom as you fly with her to other worlds.
.jpg)
The award-winning author has had the pleasure of select novels
being turned into games, while her work is also available in different
languages.
January and her husband live in rural Canada on peaceful acreage
where a variety of wildlife comes to visit regularly and expects to be fed and
paid attention to.
Blog Address - http://januarybainjourney.blogspot.ca/
Twitter Name – https://twitter.com/JanuaryBain
Facebook Page – https://www.facebook.com/january.bain
Any other social media -
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6437282.January_Bain
http://www.instagram.com/@january.bain)
Buy link for City of Lies: amazon.com/City-Lies-Hardboiled-January-Bain-ebook/dp/B0CW1G1SKG/ref=sr_1_1
Follow entire tour here.
https://goddessfishpromotions.
And, yes, there is a giveaway.
Thank you so much for featuring CITY OF LIES today.
ReplyDeleteClaire sounds like a very interesting character!!
ReplyDeleteThis looks awesome! Thanks so much for sharing.
ReplyDelete