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Friday, March 8, 2019

The Tursiops Syndrome by John C. Waite - Book Tour - Book Sale - Guest Post - Giveaway - Enter Daily!


Hello lovelies!  It gives me great pleasure today to host John C. Waite and his new book, “The Tursiops Syndrome”!  For other stops on his Goddess Fish Promotions Book Tour, please click on the banner above or any of the images in this post.

Be sure to make it to the end of this post to enter to win a $50 Nuts.com Gift Card!!!  Also, come back daily to interact with John and to increase your chances of winning!

This book is on SALE during the book tour for ONLY $0.99!!!  See below for more details.

Thanks for stopping by!  Wishing you lots of luck in this fabulous giveaway!


The Tursiops Syndrome
by John C. Waite

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GENRE: Thriller

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BLURB:

How do you get a nuke into the heart of the city? Maybe a dolphin can help. From Author John Waite, the tale of a police detective who matches wits with a mad scientist and terrorists intent on destroying America. When detective Hickory Logan joins Park Ranger Kevin Whitehead investigating the mysterious death of a dolphin she finds herself sucked into a far deeper whirlpool. Can she and Kevin stop the tide of terror that threatens to kill thousands or will they be fodder for a nuclear fireball?

A newspaper review described Tursiops thus: "The writing is, well, wonderful. Waite has a gift for dialogue and story-telling, and his plot is adventurous and perfectly paced. "

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EXCERPT ONE:

Red Logan hunkered down next to the Humvee's left front wheel. He folded his lanky frame in several places to assure that the vehicle shielded him from rifle fire emanating from the house a hundred feet away.

A furious fusillade had greeted A-Company, first battalion, 407th Special Forces when their vehicles pulled to a halt in front of what was a rather strange building for northern Afghanistan. In the early morning darkness it looked for all the world like a California ranch-style home.

But there was no BMW parked in the driveway.

The firefight lasted less than fifteen minutes. There was only an occasional round pinging off the slate-riddled soil and infrequent bursts of automatic fire keeping the soldiers from charging the structure. Red wondered why the squads weren’t using some of the heavier weapons. He knew the unit armament included shoulder-fired missiles and a Carl Gustav 84-mm recoilless rifle but so far, the big stuff had been silent.

The tip had placed Azam al-Zawahiri, Al-Qaeda's chief organizer for nine-eleven, in the house.

Numerous such tips over the past two years had come to nothing. Most of them originated in minds overly-motivated to garner the twenty million American dollars offered for the capture of several of the world’s most wanted terrorists.

At least one Osama bin Laden look-alike had been found dead. And it took weeks before authorities identified the body.  The man had been killed and left in a house to which an Afghan citizen directed U.S. forces. Not only did he not get the reward he sought, but his countrymen also jailed him for mutilating the corpse by cutting off its hands and feet.

Army intelligence, a title Red thought oxymoronic, had considered tonight’s tip more credible than most since it had come in anonymously. The tipster hadn’t mentioned the reward. So the Special Forces unit had headed out in the predawn darkness for a two-hour drive north from Kabul into the mountainous terrain.

“Red?”

The voice belonged to the figure squeezed into the wheel well behind him.

He could barely see Jessie’s sinewy shape, strangely gawky where the video camera and its now-dark lights rested on her right thigh.

“Yeah, what?” he whispered.

“Should I get some video?” Jessie asked, cocking her left hand back over her shoulder.

“Hell no. We're reporters, not soldiers. CNN's not paying us to get shot. Just keep your ass down. There's nothing to shoot."

Before he could finish his sentence, an amplified Afghan voice rang out from the vicinity of the lead Humvee, imploring the occupants of the house to surrender. The answer was a three-shot rifle volley, the rounds pinging off the hard-pack and whining away into the darkness.

“Now,” Jessie said, pushing past Red and swinging the camera onto her shoulder, leaning on the Hummer’s hood.

“No.” Red yelled, trying to pull her to the ground. But it was too late. The light on Jessie’s camera flared brilliantly then died in a crash of glass and the harsh double bark of a Kalashnikov. The rounds zinged away into the darkness, but Red heard in the report the crunch of bone.

“Jessie.” he screamed.

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GUEST POST:

I like strong women.

Hickory Logan, a detective in the Pensacola police department, drives the plot in The Tursiops Syndrome. She takes no guff, as readers will see in a couple of the action scenes that move the plot. Her male counterpart is no slouch either. Together they face an ominous task that takes them from Florida to coastal Mexico, to a Washington DC riverfront, where the bad guys are plotting to detonate a nuclear device.

Hickory becomes involved when on a morning beach patrol she finds a porpoise, (Tursiops truncatus) stuck on a sandbar. She elicits the help of National Park Ranger Kevin Whitehead who pitches in to save the distraught animal. Hickory’s intervention leads to adventures she could not have imagined.

The events drag Hickory and Kevin to rural Mexico and into the domain of Dr. James Crabtree, a disillusioned marine scientist who harbors a love of dolphin and a hatred for a federal government official who doesn’t like him, primarily because he once stole the woman he loved.

Hickory’s strengths come to the fore during the investigation when members of an eastern terrorist organization try to steer them away from their objective.

The pair make one almost fatal error and wind up prisoners, trapped on a large research vessel headed up the east coast. Anchored on the Potomac, not far from the nation’s capital, the pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place. They realize the terrorists are planning to detonate a nuclear bomb on the national mall.

The story covers an international gamut, opening in Afghanistan where Hickory’s brother, a television correspondent, is covering an attack an American army unit is conducting to capture a major terrorist leader. In the attack, his camera person, a young woman, is severely injured and has to be airlifted out for treatment.

It is during the wrap-up of this seemingly minor engagement that the
Rangers find evidence that the terrorists possess a nuclear arsenal. Hickory’s brother again joins the action in the final chapters, and helps to close the plot’s circle.

Also driving the plot is my affection for dolphins. I worked my last summer in high school at the Gulfarium in Ft. Walton Beach. While my job was not working directly with the porpoises, I was in constant contact with them. I spent a lot of time in the main tank after hours with the contingent of dolphin. I hitched rides by grabbing a dorsal and pectoral fin, and the dolphin that allowed it seemed to enjoy the interaction.

When a young male died, several divers shed tears, and we conducted a public funeral for the porpoise. Several hundred people witnessed the event. And I have featured dolphin in some of my poetic undertakings, such as the piece that follows.

The Grin
or
Musings on the Mermentau

Verses penned while watching dolphin at play on the lower Mermentau River.

To what purpose
does the porpoise
grin?

Our fishy ocean kith
or kin
gallivanting about the bayou with
its skin
lustrous without Kerri
has narri
a carri
for bad hairri
days.

But the sea, don'cha know
is cold, and damp its flow.
While a lunch of live mullet
may well fill a gullet.

Still warm a dolphin's cockles
ain't. And most, to see, need spectacles
(hence their chirps and giggles).

So, why the grin?

How come the dolphin's chin
meets jaw in ebullient leer?
Sure ain't beer!

But.....
Observe the noble porpoise
in repose.
He seems to drowse, perhaps
to doze.
Then...
Tumescence steals upon his dream
until his libido begins to steam.
From tiny folds he grows
quickly coarse.

My God, but, he's hung like a horse!

Perhaps therein lies the purpose
to the grin
of the porpoise
(chirp...giggle).


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AUTHOR BIO:


Thousands of author John C Waite’s words flew past Alpha Centauri years ago, heading for the center of the galaxy, perhaps sparking an arthropod’s grin in route. Waite, a degreed journalist and retired Merchant Mariner has numerous writing and broadcasting awards to his credit, and millions of words in print and broadcast media. Originally from New Orleans he has called Panhandle Florida his home for fifty years, but still retains a taste for things Creole and Cajun. A recreational and professional sailor, his travels have covered the Caribbean, the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, portions of south and Central America, Canada, Hawaii, Ireland, Britain, and Europe. John resides in Pensacola, Florida. He is a father to four, and grandfather to four.  His books are available on Amazon.

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CONNECT WITH JOHN:

Website:

Email:
johngllgskns@gmail.com

Facebook:

Twitter:

Goodreads Author Page:

Goodreads Book Page:

Amazon Author Page:

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BOOK BUY LINKS & BOOK SALE INFO:

**The Tursiops Syndrome is on SALE during the book tour for ONLY $0.99!!!**

Amazon Kindle eBook:

Amazon Paperback:

Barnes and Noble Paperback:

The Book Depository Paperback:

BAM! Books-A-Million Paperback:

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GIVEAWAY INFO:

John will be awarding a $50 Nuts.com GC to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour.


**This post contains affiliate links and if clicked and a purchase is made, I may receive a small commission to help support this blog.  This does not cost you anything, it just helps pay for all those awesome giveaways on here.**

This contest is sponsored by a third party. Fabulous and Brunette is a registered host of Goddess Fish Promotions.  Prizes are given away by the sponsors and not Fabulous and Brunette. The featured author and Goddess Fish Promotions are solely responsible for the giveaway prize.

4 comments:

  1. Thanks to F&B for hosting. Had to be away most of the day but would welcome any comments or questions...johngllgskns@gmail.com.

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