author, books, Cereal Authors, Crime, Fiction, Rachel Rueben, Romance, Thriller

Fedelta 2: Race Against The Clock

Fedelta 2_
Image by Nile via Pixabay

 

Warning: Strong Language and Content

As Cassie’s life hung in the balance, Amato was turning up the heat on the thugs they arrested in the bistro raid.  To his surprise they brought in a familiar face, and it was just the thing this case needed.  Anthony Vello, was a mob associate with no loyalties, in essence, he was a rat and not a very smart one.  Anthony used to loan shark, and steal for his bosses but he got caught up too many times in the system.  It did something to him, he wasn’t the hardass he used to be.  Prison will do that to a man, and now that he was pushing his fifties, he was most likely terrified of doing time.  Amato personally watched as members of the Cosimo family would refer to him as Big Pussy, that character from the Sopranos.  It had to irk him a little if not, infuriate Anthony, after all, he took many for the team.  Amato wondered, if he would still protect his bosses?  There was only one way to find out, leaning back in his chair, Amato, began the interrogation, “State your name for the record.”

Crossing his arms, he said, “Ant-nee Vello”

“Mr. Vello, have you been informed as to why you’re here?”

“Yeah, they said summin’ bout a murder.” Anthony answered then began laughing.

“Mr. Vello, what’s so funny?”

Trying to straighten his face, Anthony answered, “U’s guys, are trying to set us up.”

“Mr. Vello I can assure you no one here is trying to set you up.”

“Oh yeah, then how come that bitch Destiny ain’t here wit us?”

“Destiny who?” asked Amato.

“Stephano’s broad.”

Now he was getting somewhere, intrigued Amato asked, “Does this Destiny have a last name?”

“I don’t remember, they said she used to do tricks at the Sapphire Club on 9th.  Damn shame, she told Stephano she was some sort of model.  Pfft.” He said rolling his eyes and chuckling, “She had him hypnotized or summin’.”  Taking notes, Amato was going to be sure to look this up in the database.  If what Anthony was saying was true, this Destiny chick had to have been booked for prostitution at some point, but that was only if he was telling the truth.

Amato had reason to believe that Anthony was only playing the game, just to keep his head above water.  There was so much more that he knew and was part of but Amato had to stay focused, Cohen said he wanted answers and so he was going to get them.  “Who else is working with Destiny?” he asked.

“Dunno.” Anthony answered.

“Bullshit!” Amato said after rolling his eyes. “If you think I’m gonna believe that some stripper is shot calling you’re out of your mind.”

“Believe what you wanna, I said enough.” And he was right, Anthony threw Amato enough crumbs to distance himself from the murder charges.  Hell, at this point he couldn’t even get him on conspiracy charges.  So Amato pushed, “It’s common knowledge that women aren’t allowed in the mob.”

Not impressed with Amato, Anthony said, “What can I say, it’s a new day.”

Losing his patience Amato growled “Who called the hit?”

“I dunno.”
“So you’re taking orders from ‘dunno’.  Amato said shrugging his shoulders in an over exaggerated way. “Come Anthony, you can do better than that.”

“Can I have a lawyer?” Anthony said, ending the interview.  It was like a bucket of cold water for a detective but he wasn’t a cop, he was an agent and agents had more leeway when interviewing suspects.  “Okay, Anthony you can see a lawyer but these processing papers are tricky for us to hang on to. You know what I mean?”  Confused Anthony just looked on while Amato started packing up his things.  “If something were to happen to these papers, well, nobody’s gonna know where to put you in the jail.”  This was a vague threat and Anthony didn’t take it lightly. If he ended up in the wrong cell block that could mean death.  His brother was killed while being processed at Ricker’s Island.  As he stood in line waiting to be given his bedding and toiletries, he was stabbed in the neck by a Cosimo who just happened to be in the next line.  “God damit, it ain’t never enough for u’s.  What more do you want?”

“No you didn’t.”

After that the only sound in the room was the buzzing from the clock on the wall.  Amato noticed Anthony breathing really hard as he struggled to stay loyal to his boss.  Fixated on his face, Amato watched the anguish of a man who had to finally stand on his own.  No bosses, no crew, no help.  As his walls shattered, Anthony covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath, “If I say anything, I want immunity.”

“I swear, if you give us the boss, you won’t have to face the death penalty.”

“Aiight, Danny Marchesi, ordered the hit on Stephano and Cassandra.”

Standing up, Amato said in his most professional voice, “Thank you for your cooperation in our investigation, I’ll be sending you back to holding until we work something out with the DA.”  Seeing Anthony’s body almost deflate as he realized what he was really doing, Amato repeated his promise, “If you testify, you will most likely be put in witness protection and you won’t have to worry about retaliation.” Not like it mattered to him, the life that Anthony knew before was over, no matter how things turned out.  Amato couldn’t bring any comfort to him because there wasn’t anything he could do.  All he could do right now was find Danny and Destiny before they carried out their hit.  That’s if they didn’t do it already.  Amato knew the pressure was on both Danny and Destiny to flee New York and they were most likely heading off to some country without an extradition treaty.  No matter how he looked at it, time was running out for Cassie.

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author, books, Cereal Authors, Crime, Fiction, Rachel Rueben, Romance, Thriller

Fedelta 2: Memories of St. John

xocolat atelier (1)
Image by Pixel2013 via Pixabay

 

As Cassie tried to fight her way back to consciousness, she forced herself to open her eyes.  When she did a shooting pain griped the left side of her head.  She moaned in agony and writhed in pain in the chair.  Taking a deep breath, she found it hard to inhale because of a broken nose.  Tilting her head just a bit made her see stars from the concussion she received when she hit the concrete floor of the basement.  It took a long while for her to get her bearings, but when she did she recognized exactly where she was.  Cassie also remembered who was responsible for her current predicament.  Even in her weakened state, her first thought was revenge.  At least the beatdown didn’t kill her spirit even though it was slowly killing her body.  She forced herself to not focus on the pain, instead, throwing all her mental energy into figuring out an escape.  Things didn’t look good for her, they had zip tied both arms and legs to a chair and duct tape was fixed across her mouth.  She couldn’t make a sound, let alone move, which was going to make escaping difficult at best.  The only thing she could hope for right now was for Amato and the Feds to swoop in and rescue her but that was unlikely.  Law enforcement was always a day late and a dollar short when it came to these sorts of things.  She never thought in a million years that she would prefer jail to a bullet in the head but she had something to live for.  Now it was up to her mentally challenged heroes in blue to find her and save her.

The more she thought about it, the more hopeless it felt.  Her arms were beginning to feel numb from the lack of circulation and a part of her wanted this to all be over with.  As her thoughts turned dark, Cassie wondered was there a special prayer you were supposed to say before you were murdered?  The Catholics always had a saint for everything stemming from; illness, employment, and even betrayal.  She remembered her father having a medallion of St. John of the Cross, who was the patron saint of betrayals.  Though he rarely went to church, he took the whole saints and angels thing seriously.  He had medallions and even prayer books all dedicated to the saints.  What was the point, Cassie asked her brain which brought up the memory? None of this brought any comfort to Cassandra who felt like the clock was ticking away.  What if this was her time?  Well she thought. at least she went down fighting like a soldier in a war where the enemies and battlefield were always changing.  It was a miracle she lasted this long.  Yet there was still a piece of her that wanted to live just to stick it to her enemies.

author, books, Cereal Authors, Fiction, Rachel Rueben, Romance, Thriller

Fedelta 2: Uneasy Alliance

xocolat atelier
Image via Marcelbr via Pixabay

Warning: Strong language and content.  

Meanwhile in the old townhouse that Stephano shared with Destiny, she and Danny were putting the final touches on their soirée.  With only their most loyal soldiers, their crew was cut down to size after the Fed raid.  Danny promised them if anyone got caught up in the Fed’s net, he would spring them from jail.  It was a promise he had no intention of keeping, because after this live execution, he and Destiny were leaving the country.  They would have no choice, he knew they wouldn’t be popular after this stunt.  Though he was dead, Stephano still commanded respect and his loyalists would make sure to take out his killers.  It had to be known by now that he was one of the gunmen.  The Alunni had their own people placed in the all of the major police precincts and were probably already shining up their guns for retribution.  His mistake was not getting full support when he did the deed.  That was his own fault for letting Destiny pressure him into making a move that he wasn’t ready for.

He was going to have to lay down the law when the coast cleared, he couldn’t have some chick bossing him around.  When this was all said and done, he would have one less enemy at his back.  Whatever happened, this had to work or they would both be dead.  Fenetti was too dangerous to let live.  She took down the Cosimos and they are still reeling from her betrayal.  It was unlikely they would ever recover.  “Hey! Snap outta of it!” Destiny yelled from across the room.  Embarrassed that he had been caught daydreaming, he yelled right back, “What?”

“I set up the cameras, and the chairs.”

Looking at his right hand man Tommy, he nodded his head and ol’ Tommy was off to the bedroom where they had Casssie tied up.  She was carried, right to the chair in front of the camera.

Clapping her hands, Destiny was as giddy as a school girl with a new vibrator.  “This is perfect, I sent out the invites, I hope enough people show.”

“Look babe,” Danny began, “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Don’t you dare, we agreed!” she snapped while sticking her acrylic nail in his face, “I helped you, now it’s your turn to return the favor.”

“Alright, but you’d better hurry this up, if they catch up with us, we’re as good as dead.”

“We’ll be fine,” she said glaring at him, “Grow a set.” And with that she left the room while Danny burned with embarrassment.  This was the second time she had disrespected him in front of his crew and she was going to have to pay for that.  Maybe he would leave her at the border when he fled?  He smiled at the idea but kept his mouth shut.  He couldn’t trust anyone with his real plans.  Heck, he didn’t even really know what those plans were yet.  He had a private plane all gassed up and ready to go anywhere in the world but first he had to finish Fenetti.  Later on, he’d deal with Destiny.

books, Cereal Authors, Crime, Fiction, Rachel Rueben, Romance, Thriller

Fedelta 2: In The Belly Of The Beast

In The Belly Of The Beast
Image by James Timothy Peters via Pixabay

When they got to the station downtown, they were allotted an interrogation room to conduct business.  Before they started on their first suspect, Jimmy disappeared to do his part in the investigation.  As the officers brought in their first suspect, Amato watched as they cuffed him to the chair.  After he was settled, Amato began to read his file aloud in front of him, “Gianvanni Polenzi, 53, Brooklyn Heights.  Says here; burglary, armed robbery, assault, and attempted murder which you are still awaiting trial.  Tisk, tisk.” Throwing the file on the conference table, he sat up in his chair and looked him dead in the eye and said, “I’m not gonna bullshit you, if you aren’t careful, you’ll be putting yourself right in the middle of a murder investigation.  You don’t want that, considering you’re already about to be put on trial for another murder.  You see, judges and juries don’t like psychopaths.”  The Gianvanni rolled his eyes in front of him, pissing off Amato. “Look shit stain, I’m gonna find out where your boss is and when I do, I’ll be sure to send you all first class to hell.”  Not impressed, Gianvanni stared at him, defiant and silent.

As Amato was going through the proper channels, Jimmy was going the alternate route and suiting up to go undercover in the holding area.  Using his tools of the trade, he went to what was called, the green room, an area where officers went to transform themselves, kind of like a Hollywood dressing room.  Inside were wigs, prosthetics, and makeup.  Having decided on a more ethnic look, Jimmy grabbed a kufi, a type of headwear which some Muslims used as a sign of persecution.  He has worn this disguise before so the jailers and some of the regular inmates would be familiar with him.  He needed that credibility.  The mafiosos he was dealing with were old hats and could smell a cop a mile away.  If they were suspicious, that could put his life in danger.  He had heard stories of undercovers being stabbed in the neck, and one being thrown from a second story floor and onto a commissary area.  He wasn’t gonna let that happen to him.  So he put the kufi on his head, and began his transformation into someone who could blend in seamlessly.  As he looked into the mirror he saw his face was missing something, and so gave himself a scar on the left cheek.  When he was done, he looked different enough to move through the jail population without setting off any alarms.  All he had to do was put on his baggy, hunter green pants and white t-shirt and he was all set.  When he was done, Jimmy signaled for one of the rookies to escort him to his new abode, next to the Alunni thugs and began surveillance.

As the door slid open, Jimmy noticed he would be cohabitating with another inmate.  He was a scruffy, and thin tattooed man.  Studying his face, Jimmy ascertained that he was in his forties or late thirties.  His face looked worn and the gang tattoos didn’t help him look any younger or healthier.  As soon as the door slammed behind him, Jimmy began unpacking, “Whaddaya in for?” asked the tattooed man.  “Armed robbery,” Jimmy answered. “Oh yeah, note or gun?” the man asked.  This was a way inmates tested newbies, it was their way to gauge how dangerous an individual was.  It was also for bragging rights.  The more violent the crime, the more impressive you seemed.  Although Jimmy wasn’t looking to be a seen as a serial killer, he also didn’t want to be seen as a punk, so he answered, “Gun.”  Unfurling his sheets and blanket, Jimmy began making his bed while the man continued checking him out.  “What crew ya ride wit?”

“Me, myself and I,” Jimmy responded.

The man laughed at the response and said, “Betta watch out, the fools up in here are all cliqued up.”

“Yeah?” Jimmy asked.

“Yep, they dropped off two mafia dudes next door a few hours ago.”

As he tucked in the sheets and blanket, he declared, “I just mind my own damn business and do my time.  I’ll be okay, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

Intrigued the man asked, “So you an OG (original gangster), huh?”

Snickering, Jimmy smiled then said, “Yeah, I’m a veteran.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jeremiah”

“Leo, like the lion.”

“Okay Leo, what’s the deal with these mafia dudes?”

“Dunno maaaan,” he said looking rather uncomfortable.

Jimmy figured, he wasn’t be truthful but if he was going to get the truth from him he needed to earn Leo’s trust.  But how was he going to make that happen?  His answer came twenty minutes later when the guards started delivering dinner straight to the cells. Since most of the inmates on the cell block were considered the worst of the worst, they had to eat inside their cells.  They were too dangerous to have running around free, however, the drug addicts, dealers and thieves were allowed to have dinner outside their cells.

When Jimmy got his meal, he had no clue what it was.  Inspecting it with the plastic fork, he cut a small piece off and sniffed it.  “What the hell is this?” Jimmy exclaimed at something grey covered in a thin brown sauce.  “It’s Salisbury steak.”

“You shitting me?”

“Nah man, it ain’t that bad, all ya gotta do is dip it in your mash potatoes and it cancels the whole thing out.”

Even though he was starving, Jimmy wasn’t that hungry and so he offered his tray to his new cellie.  Without even looking, Leo grabbed it and placed the tray next to his on the bed and continued chowing down.  Jimmy wasn’t sure if he was an addict or homeless by the way he ate.  Since he was gaunt looking, Jimmy assumed addict, so he began to casually ask questions.  “So Leo, what are you in for?”

“Like you, armed robbery.”

However, Jimmy wasn’t buying it, “Yeah, bank or store?”

“Neither, I robbed some old bitch in front of the 7-twelve.”

That sounded like a junkie move but Jimmy didn’t say anything, he needed Leo to like him, like him enough to talk to him.  Continuing the conversation, Jimmy asked, “Gun or knife?”

“Nope, copper pipe.” He said talking with his mouth full.  As he took a sip of his little milk, he began laughing, “That old bag didn’t see it coming.  I mean WHACK!” he said while reenacting the crime, “She was on her ass before she knew what was going on.”  Jimmy felt the hairs on his neck stand up when he realized Leo was a psychopath.  Faintly, he laughed right along with Leo and even encouraged him, “I bet she didn’t see that shit coming?”

“Not at all.  And funny thing is, she kinda looked like my aunt Ronnie.” He said loudly as food flew out of his mouth.  This wasn’t going to be pretty, if he was going to get Leo to talk, he needed to get on his level.  It was quite a distance to stoop but Leo didn’t seem all that dangerous—now.  If Jimmy could keep him entertained, he knew he could get Leo to spill any secrets he may have.  Boredom and a personality disorder were things he could work with, he was an awesome interrogator, all Jimmy needed was an angle.

As Jimmy was wondering about his next move, two guards appeared next door and announced that they were taking both inmates to homicide.  Homicide?  This was confusing to Jimmy, was Fenetti dead?

books, Cereal Authors, Crime, Rachel Rueben, Romance, Thriller, Uncategorized

Fedelta 2: Salvation

Salvation
Image by Artistic Operations via Pixabay

 

When help began arriving, Jimmy briefed both the agents and police on weapons, as well as the layout of the building and the amount of people in the building.  As they were devising a plan to raid the building and rescue Cassandra, Cohen, finally arrived to take charge or at least pretend to.  Jimmy kept his mouth shut as he watched Einstein repeat what was said by the senior officers all while acting like it was his idea.  Feeling the effects of the taser, Jimmy assumed the adrenaline was finally wearing off.  His head hurt and his ribs ached every time he took a deep breath.  Determined to see this mission through, he sucked it up, he wasn’t about to let Cohen screw any of this up.  If he so much as saw him going left, Jimmy would be there to knock him back right.

Just as these thoughts entered his head he saw out of the corner of his eye, a white Kia.  “Oh thank God,” Jimmy said out loud.  Finally, he didn’t feel so alone.  Seeing Amato’s face as he pulled up and park three cars down, Jimmy went up to meet him.  As he got to the car he noticed the gentleman in the back.  “I’ll fill you in later,” he said before Jimmy could even ask.  Seeing Amato, Special Agent Cohen marched right toward him, “I thought I dismissed you, Agent,” he declared.

“Yeah, about that” Amato said closing the door to the Kia, “I ran into someone really interesting”.  Walking right past Cohen, he went up to an old grizzly vet from the force, and asked him to keep an eye on the suspect in the backseat. “What are you doing?” Agent Cohen asked rather annoyed.

“I’m about to go into enemy territory,”

“No, you’re not!”

“We’re going to wait on SWAT to raid the building, capture Fenetti, and whatever else is crawling around in that cesspool.”

“It’ll take forever for SWAT to show, you know that, that’s why I have my little passport right here,” he said pointing to Devon, the man in the back seat.

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing but you’re not going in there!”

“Cohen, the suspect has offered to assist in our investigation and can literally get us in the front door.” The sergeant in charge heard the argument between Amato and Cohen, and his interest was piqued.

“No! We’re doing it my way!” Cohen insisted.  However, when the sergeant glared at him, Cohen had to change his tune.  The police were the ones who would have to approach and breech, not the FBI.  Cohen may have been in charge of the manhunt but he wasn’t in charge of anything else.  This became abundantly clear when the Sergeant called all his officers together and began to ask for some spare vests.  Handing them to Amato, he in turn offered his gratitude.  Going back over to his car, he opened the back door and handed the other vest to Devon.  As Amato uncuffed him, he instructed Devon to put it on under his shirt and to zip his hoodie.  Amato in turn put his vest on and buttoned up his jacket then put his gun in his front pocket.  While he dressed, Jimmy briefed him on the best place to enter and where exactly the basement was.

When he was done, Amato slapped Jimmy on the shoulder and saw him wince.  “Get checked out, Jimbo.”

“Thanks mom, but I got some unfinished business first.”

Smiling, Amato turned around and signaled for Devon to step out of the car.  He wasn’t afraid of Devon running away because he had over a dozen officers with guns waiting to pounce if he tried anything shady.  Nobody was in the mood to screw around.  “Come on Devon, time’s a wasting.”  Amato said while several officers and agents began to circle the neighborhood to block off the bistro.  Once Amato and Devon were in, they would block off the street and sidewalk.  Beads of sweat began pouring down Devon’s face.  Amato tried to calm him down and said, “You don’t have to do anything but get me through the front door, after that, you can walk away.”

“Aiiight.” Devon responded.

Knowing that the Alunnis would be guarding this place like a pack of wolves after Jimmy’s escape, Amato, knew he had to play it cool.  Paranoia and gangster didn’t go well together.  That’s why every cop car and law enforcement officer stayed out of sight forming a net around the block.  Amato would have to approach the building without any protection outside of his vest.  If he was having seconds thoughts, it was already too late because within two minutes they were right at the door of Matteo’s Bar & Bistro.  When Devon hesitated, Amato nudged him with his shoulder.  Slowly, Devon extended his hand and wrapped twice on the door.  Immediately, the antique wooden door opened and an old man’s head popped out.  Devon made up some story about needing to see Danny and before you knew it, the door swung wide open.

Stepping inside, Amato looked around and noticed the place was deserted.  There was no indication that there was anything unusual going on, no goons, no guns, no nothing.  Going over to a corner booth, Amato sat down with Devon and gave him his walking papers, “Okay Devon, you did your job, now beat it.” Without a word, Devon got up and left the bistro before anything jumped off.  When the old guy finally disappeared, Amato got up and started snooping around.  If caught, he would simply say he was looking for the men’s room.  As Amato went towards the kitchen, he noticed a hallway to his left and so naturally, he followed it.  The carpet was a taupe color and on it, was what appeared to be blood stains.  Instinctively, he reached for his gun and knelt down to see the blood was fresh.  “Jesus!” Amato said quietly.  Following the trail, he was led to a door much like the one Jimmy described and when he opened it, he saw the stairs leading down.  He had found the basement.  Though he didn’t want to, he followed it all the way down and found it completely empty.  No Cassie, and more importantly, no Danny.  Getting on his phone, he called Cohen, “They’re gone” he said, disappointed.

As soon as he reported back, the cops did their job and swarmed the joint.

The police did a sweep of the building nonetheless as Amato, and Jimmy stood in the basement astonished that the Alunni moved so quickly.  “They might be a small crew, but they’re good.” Amato said.  “Too good,” Jimmy said, “I was gone for less than a half hour and they picked up and found another location, right under our noses.”

“Sounds like they had a plan B.” Amato answered.
Stomping down the stairs with his gray trench coat flapping in the wind, Cohen yelled, “How the hell did this happen?”

“They must’ve got the drop on us somehow,” Amato replied.

“I want answers and I want them on my desk before the end of the day.”

A police officer interrupted their discussion, “Excuse me Special Agent Cohen, what do you want us to do with the suspects we found on the property?”

“Take ‘em downtown and hold ‘em.”

Taking their cue, Amato and Jimmy followed the cops to their cruisers and saw there were about 4 men, all of them middle aged and unlikely to be of any help.  These guys had been in the game too long, and both Jimmy and Amato knew they were hardcore gangsters.  They wouldn’t give anything up even with the threat of prison.  Nonetheless, they had to try and so off they went downtown to get answers.

books, Cereal Authors, Fiction, Rachel Rueben, Uncategorized

Fedelta 2: A Bad Day At The Office

Marielle Price

Image via Pixabay

“Hey Cassie, ya alright?” Jimmy asked softly.  When he got no response, it concerned him.  That’s when he really started to fight in order to free himself.  Using the prong in his belt, he started to slowly began to feel for the pins in the lock.  One by agonizing one, they clicked until the shackle popped at the top of the lock.  It was a miracle, he slid out from under his chains and made his way to Cassie.  She was bleeding from the head and was starting to make gurgling sounds as if she was aspirating on her own blood.  It didn’t seem to him that she was going to make it to Destiny’s public execution party.  He had to get help but in order to do that, he was going to have to leave.  Jimmy didn’t have any doubt in his mind that he could pull it off but he didn’t know if she would be alive when he came back?  Fate didn’t hand him a good hand in this situation but he knew he had to get out, so he began to prepare himself for escape.

Taking his belt he wrapped it around his hand, placing his middle finger through the metal buckle.  It was now a crude set of brass knuckles.  He saw inmates do this kind of stuff in prisons.  To even the odds, he took Cassie’s belt too and connected the lock to the buckle.  He could now use it like a pair of nunchucks.  He was no Bruce Lee but he knew how to inflict damage with his new makeshift weapons.  He pitied whoever he hit, because he was gonna do damage.  He already began coming up with various scenarios in his head as to how this was going to go down.  As he mustered up the courage to head off to war, he wondered if he lost, would they ever find his body?

Slowly, he crept up the basement and made it to the door, which was unlocked.  Destiny and Danny must of forgot to lock it and that was mistake number one.  Quietly, he peeked his head out of the door, and looked up and down the hallway.  There was nobody around, was this a setup?  He never knew the mob to be so messy, when they kidnapped someone, they usually killed them immediately.  There was little mercy and little tolerance for showboating.  He knew that once the other families heard about Danny’s plan there would be consequences, the old school didn’t like attention.  And they didn’t tolerate soldiers crossing the line and killing their bosses and installing themselves as king.  Was this why Danny was riding with such a small crew?  It didn’t matter Jimmy told himself, he had to get through this alive and well enough to make it back home.  Stealthy, he emerged from the door and closed it quietly behind him.  He saw a bright light in the north part of the building, avoiding it, he went south.  He didn’t want any confrontation if possible.  When he got to the end of the hall, he stood still with his knucks ready but again there was no one to be found.  What the hell was going on he thought to himself?

Proceeding into the kitchen he found himself alone and figured the staff of the bistro were sent home while Boris and Natasha executed their evil plan.  Seeing a door, Jimmy bolted towards it and spent a good thirty seconds unlocking the latches and chains.  Within in moments he was outside and he took off southbound towards a tiny alleyway.  Picking up the pace, he got further and further until he almost got to the corner, when a fat guy emerged from nowhere.  Jimmy knew he had to get the drop first before the guy knew what was going on so he didn’t break his stride and went straight at the guy.  When he was at arm’s length, Jimmy saw the guy reach into his waistband, so lunged himself at the guy, hitting him with his belt.  With all the might he could muster he directed the belt, lock and all at the guy’s face.  The surprise attack had the guy flat on his behind and Jimmy jumped on top of him trying to wrestled the gun out of his hand.  It was fast and brutal, Jimmy had no mercy on the poor bastard.  He had him beaten within seconds and his reward was a shiny new gun.  Looking around, he saw no one in sight except a homeless lady digging through the dumpster at the corner.  Casually as he could, Jimmy crossed the street all the while keeping his eyes peeled for anymore Alunni surprises.

With his heart racing, and the adrenaline still flowing Jimmy found the nearest public space which was a furniture store.  There, he startled the cashier who thought the store was being robbed.  He had to explain that he was a cop and needed to use the phone, handing over her cell, she threw it on the counter, still not trusting his story.  When she saw he called 911, her opinion changed.  He asked to be transferred to the department’s dispatch and gave the code words: Tom & Jerry.  Immediately, he was patched through to one of the local dispatchers and when she answered, Jimmy requested to be put through to his supervisor and gave another code word: Argos.  Within seconds he was on the phone with Agent Cohen who was at the office seeing over the manhunt.

“This better be good, I’m in the middle of an impor..”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re busy!”

“Agent Schiavone?”

“Glad you noticed,”

“Where the hell are you?  We’ve been…”  Before Cohen could get the rest of the sentence out, Jimmy began talking over him, “Never mind, I was captured by the Alunnis with Fenetti.”
“What?!?” exclaimed Cohen.

“Bring backup to Matteo’s Bar & Bistro and bring a bus.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, but Fenetti is.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in a..”
At that point Jimmy just hung up, he had neither the time, nor the patience, to deal with Cohen.  He had been through enough without having to play nice with someone he couldn’t respect.  For Jimmy this was just another bad day at the office and the future held no promise that it would get any better.

books, Cereal Authors, Excerpts, Fiction, Rachel Rueben, Romance

Fedelta Book 2: Captured

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Meanwhile at the Matteo’s Bar & Bistro, Jimmy was bound and trapped in the basement of the neighborhood hot spot.  When he first gained consciousness and he didn’t like what he saw.  Every instinct in his body told him this was a mob hit in the making and he had to get out of there.  As Jimmy scanned the room for a door or window, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.  Quickly, he put his head down and pretended to still be unconscious.  The footsteps were slow and purposeful, they were also heavy, either the guy was huge or he was carrying something.  “Careful, the boss said he wanted everything done exactly his way,” a raspy voice said.

“I know what I’m doin,’” answered a very annoyed and out of breath accomplice.  Jimmy listened hard for any other voices or footsteps but heard none.  He still couldn’t be certain there were only two of them, for all he knew there could be ten more thugs upstairs.  Escape wasn’t looking good.  As Jimmy listened on, he heard dragging sounds then a thud, quickly, he peeked and saw a body being dragged across the floor.  His heart raced as he tried to discern whether this person was dead or alive.  Did it really matter?  There was nothing he could do, he was chained up like a dog which meant, this poor SOB was on his own.  Closing his eyes again, he kept his head down and made sure not to move.  As the men took off for God knows where, Jimmy was left alone with a body in the middle of the basement floor.

It was only after the door closed did Jimmy dare to open his eyes again.  Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down and looked around for a way to get out of his chains.  To his disappointment, the room was completely bare, these guys were smart and weren’t taking any chances.  They seemed to have thought of everything; the windows were covered, the door was steel, and there were shackles on the floor as well as chains hanging from the ceiling.  However the most disturbing part of the décor were the drain traps on the floor.  It was becoming crystal clear to Jimmy; this place was a slaughterhouse.  Like cattle, he and his new roommate were going to be butchered.  This was not how he imagined his life ending.

 

Dellani Oakes, JD Holiday, Karen Vaughan, Marta Moran Bishop, Rachel Rueben, Viv Drewa, What's Write for Me

Red River Radio Presents What’s Write for Me with JD, Karen, Marta, and Viv

Join Us TODAY from 4-6 PM EST

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Once in awhile, Christina and Dellani like to relax a little. With Thanksgiving over and Christmas to come, they decided to talk to a few good friends and share words of wisdom about every author’s nightmare, marketing. To that end, he invited our friends to sit down, share a hot beverage, and chat for a couple of hours. Without further adieu, let’s meet our guests!

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First up, my creative cohost, Christina Giguere. When she’s not saving the day as a virtual assistant, Christina Giguere likes to write. Her alter ego, Rachel Rueben has a blog called: Writing By The Seat Of My Pants for self-published authors where she discusses publishing news and tips for indie authors.She also has a free book called: Self-Publishing Hacks: What The Other Authors Already Know available on the blog.However her latest book is called: Social Media Hacks: An Authors Guide To Navigating Social Media.

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Next in line is author and illustrator J.D. Holiday. JD has five books. Four children’s books: Janoose The Goose, Janoose And The Fall Feather Fair, The Spy Game- all picture books, a chapter book for six to nine year olds called, The Great Snowball Escapade, and an eclectic collections of short stories for adults in Stories & Imaginings For The Reading Spot. JD has been a radio show host where she interviewed a wide variety of authors, including all of the authors in this group. She gave Dellani her infamous “If your character had a theme song, what would it be?” question.

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Our third guest is author and radio show host, Karen Vaughan. Karen lives in Peterborough, Ontario with her husband Jim and a cat named JJ who has plenty of catitude! Karen started her literary journey in 2005 when she was home on sick leave and was tired of starting at the four walls or twiddling her thumbs. An idea for what would become DEAD ON ARRIVAL popped in to her head and the feisty 30 something character Laura wouldn’t leave her alone til her story was written. Laura took a break from pestering the poor author, so she could write a free-standing novel DEAD COMIC STANDING.Soon Laura was on the campaign to get Karen back to what would become the Laura and Gerry series.It now has 7 books, the latest being DEAD TO WRITES.Karen is the proud mom of one, step-mom of 4 grown kids, and 2 grandchildren. While not writing her fingers to the bone she hosts WRITERS ROUND TABLE the second Tuesday of each month. She is also a partner with Viv Drewa in OWL & PUSSYCAT PROMOTIONS, promoting independent authors. Karen is a standup comedian who does her routine for local talent nights and loves reading, crafts and drawing.

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Our fourth guest is Marta Moran Bishop, who says, “I started out as a child!” (writing, that is) Truthfully, my mother dragged me kicking and screaming to write chapters for Keeping The Upper Paw, but I didn’t really begin to work at writing until my mother was dying and we read her the short poems my Grandmother Helen Springer Moran wrote in the nineteen thirties, she loved them so much that after she passed away, I took them, extended them and wrote others and Wee Three: A Mother’s Love in Verse was born. Now I have 2 children’s poetry books, a novel called Dinky: The Nurse Mare’s Foal, the story of the first year of our rescue foal’s life told from his point of view, 4 adult poetry books, a dystopian series called The Divide, and four other novellas and five short stories. I write both poetry, (adult and children’s) stories of animals, the paranormal, dystopian, and many other things.

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Fifth is author Viv Drewa. Viv is a Michigan native who has enjoyed reading and writing since 1963. Though she studied medicinal chemistry at the University of Michigan her passion has always been writing. She was awarded third place for her nonfiction short story about her grandfather’s escape from Poland. Later, she rewrote this story and was published in the “Polish American Journal” as “”From the Pages of Grandfather’s Life” and recently had it published again on Amazon.com

Viv took creative and journalism courses to help in her transition to fulfill her dream of becoming a writer. She worked as an intern for Port Huron’s ‘The Times Herald”, and also wrote, edited and did the layout or the Blue Water Multiple Sclerosis newsletter “Thumb Prints.”

She has started Owl and Pussycat Book Promotions to help her fellow authors by providing affordable services.

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Finally, Dellani Oakes, an author and radio show host. I don’t talk about myself much, but since I’m going to be more relaxed than usual, let me tell you a bit about myself. I am a married mother of four, with two beautiful granddaughters.

In college, my father, who was a PhD in English, and a University Press editor, handed me a stack of papers for a book he was editing, and said, “This is the worst thing every written, so I need your help. You can recognize what’s wrong, even if you don’t know why, and you can correct it.” That and a blue pencil, were my introduction into editing. It was a good trial by fire. I can still hear his voice in my head when I edit. “You don’t need that. It’s crap!”

I have been writing stories since I learned how. Before that, I was telling them. I became a published author in 2008, with my historical novel, Indian Summer. I am an author, mostly of romantic suspense, but I have branched out to romance, sci-fi, historical romance, fantasy, and murder mysteries. My most recent novel is So Much It Hurts released by Tirgearr Publishing.

Listen Live or at Your Leisure

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Fedelta Book 2: Into The Night

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Following behind, Amato resealed the apartment and began coming up with his story as to why he and Jimmy were here in the first place.  While Jimmy left the building he saw a white van coming slowly down the street.  Not thinking too much of it, he waited on the curb until the vehicle passed.  Instead it came to a complete stop, hearing the door roll back, his heart stopped, as three masked men jumped out of the van and tasered him before he could even reach for his gun.  Amato could only look on horror from the lobby as they dragged his unconscious partner into the van.  “Son of a bitch!” Amato growled as he fumbled to get his gun.  Running to the front door, he made it to the sidewalk and shot at the white van but it was all in vain.  The patrolmen also stumbled to react quickly enough and before they could even start their car, the van had already turned the corner and were out of their sight.  Angry, Amato threatened the patrolmen, “Find them or it’s your ass!”

Not one to sit back and twiddle his thumbs, Amato got in his Kia and followed the chaos.  Sadly, there was no use, the van was gone, as was Jimmy.  So much for walking away Amato thought.  Immediately, Amato went into action and called headquarters to his old boss to advise him about the situation.  “Track his phone, the GPS has got to still be on,” Amato pleaded.  Within ten minutes the entire neighborhood was swarming with Feds and local law enforcement.  As the flashing blue and red lights reflected off the shiny glass door, it magnified the intensity of the beams nearly blinding Amato.  Right there on the spot, the investigators bombarded him with questions about the appearance of the men as well as the description of the van.  Calmly he answered their questions in the hopes that it would help them find Jimmy.  Regretting having ever gotten involved in this case, Amato started to question his motives.  Why was it so important to find Stephano’s killer?  Why did he care about where Cassandra had fled?

His answer appeared in the street, dressed in his street clothes, Special Agent Cohen walked towards Amato.  He began firing off questions, “What the hell is going on? How did some street thugs outmaneuver two FBI agents?”  Immediately Amato could feel every muscle in his body getting tense.  Taking a deep breath, Amato answered Cohen’s questions and only those questions.  He never mentioned the results of his own investigation nor did he speak of his methods.  He didn’t trust Cohen, not with this investigation and certainly not with Jimmy’s life.  Amato would not give what was not earned.  When Cohen was done with Amato, he tried to put together what was going on, was this a ransom attempt or terrorism?  There were parts of Jimmy’s personnel file that were still classified, it’s very possible he was working some pretty important case.

Seeing Cohen just sitting there, Amato grew agitated and took charge of the investigation going back to the apartment building where he found the manager and requested to see any and all security footage.  Flashing his badge he was able to get the manager’s cooperation and was escorted to a small room next to the broom closet.  Only one camera was facing the front of the building and it caught everything.  Rewinding and replaying, Amato was able to finally pause the video and get a look at the kidnappers.  There was one in particular who looked rather familiar but he couldn’t be sure since the man was wearing a ski-mask.  Taking a zip file of the footage from the manager, he went back to the office to see if forensics could help him clear up the fuzziness of the image.  So far, it wasn’t looking good for Jimmy.