Read on to see how your could WIN a free e-copy of this week’s featured novel, the brand-new espionage thriller
By Caleb Pirtle III
PAULINE SAT IN silence on the sofa as the hours dragged slowly from morning to late afternoon.
The clock might as well have stopped.
It no longer had any meaning.
Just a tick.
Then a tock.
And time, which would outlive them all, stepped off the edge of the earth and would never be recovered again.
It fell into yesterday.
It would never see tomorrow.
It was lost, gone on a one-way street that ran forever and might run into a dead end before dark, and time had taken Pauline with it.
She had the guilt of murder hanging heavy on her conscience.
She had watched his face as he moved toward her, a red mask of rage, his veins pulsating on the side of his head, his pupils dilating, eyes turning from dark to a deeper shade of black.
His hands were huge, his fingernails torn ragged, packed with blood and dirt.
His naked and bloated body was awash with sweat.
Pauline could not forget the grin that tore across his face as though it had been scarred by a hacksaw.
His pale lips wrapped themselves around a mouthful of yellowed teeth, each filed sharply to a point.
On more than one occasion, Petrov had bragged about biting the nipples off a woman’s breast before throwing her broken body back out on the street.
Pauline did not doubt his story for a moment.
The first bullet had staggered him.
He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Maybe if the slug had only erased that sick and wicked grin off his face, she would not have fired again.
Petrov’s death was self-defense, she told herself.
She had no choice.
It was a law as old as the first light to touch a barren earth.
Kill.
Or be killed.
She had borne the brunt of Nikolay’s anger for the final time.
He would never touch her again.
She would no longer bear the bruises delivered by his fists.
But did it really matter?
Who would believe her?
A judge?
Pauline knew she would never see a judge.
Her trial would take place in either a back alley some night while a splinter of moonlight touched her face or on the cold, winter shores of the Ukraine River while a bitter rain tried to wash the demons from her tortured soul.
One bullet.
Her skull would crack.
Would she see death before death found her?
Spies did not die with honor.
They just died.
Were buried.
And soon forgotten.
It was as if they had never left their footprints upon the same dirt that would hold their graves.
Pauline felt isolated.
She was alone.
She couldn’t run.
There was no place to go.
They would find her.
The Russians had eyes in every corner of the city.
They were watching.
Always watching.
They were watching her.
Her life began in one flicker of firelight and would end in another.
About Rainy Night to Die
Roland Sand is the quiet assassin. His missions for intelligence agencies are those no one else wants to tackle. The reason is simple. Sand is expendable. If he doesn’t return, he won’t be missed. His name is erased. It’s as though he never existed.
Sand is sent to Ukraine to smuggle out a beautiful lounge jazz singer who, for years, has been smuggling Russian secrets back to MI-6’s home office in Great Britain. Her contact in London has been compromised. He is found floating in the Thames River. Sand must extricate Pauline Bellerose before the Russians trace the stolen secrets back to her and place a noose around her neck.
He has twenty-four hours to find the singer and remove her to safety. If she is caught, he dies.
A ship is waiting in the fog off the coast of Odessa. Time is running out. He must reach the ship at the appointed hour, or it will leave without them. In the secret world of espionage, the window of escape is narrow and closing all the time. The midnight storm is the only place to hide.
The Russians are waiting on the road to sea. Sand can’t outrun them. He can’t outfight them. He must outwit them. Otherwise, he’s trapped, and it’s a rainy night to die.
Find it on Amazon.
Win a free copy
Caleb Pirtle will give a free e-copy of Rainy Night to Die to one person who can identify Roland Sand’s identifying feature. Leave your answer in the Comments below.
Caleb Pirtle III
began his career writing about history and travel. He learned quickly, however, that what happens is never as important as those who make it happen. Many of those people have made their way into his novels.
Pirtle is the author of more than 80 published books, including the noir suspense thrillers, Secrets of the Dead, Conspiracy of Lies, Place of Skulls, and Night Side of Dark. He has also written two noir thrillers, Lovely Night to Die and Rainy Night to Die.
Other historical novels include Back Side of a Blue Moon, winner of the Beverly Hills Book Award and Best of Texas Book Award, and Bad Side of a Wicked Moon. He has written such nonfiction award winners as XIT: The American Cowboy, Callaway Gardens: the Unending Season, The Grandest Day, Echoes from Forgotten Streets, Spirit of a Winner, and Gamble in the Devil’s Chalk.
Pirtle lives at Hideaway Lake in East Texas with his wife, Linda, who is the author of three cozy mysteries.
Discipline was beautiful, even when it hurt.
grew up on the island of Kaua`i in Hawaii. A mental health therapist, Toby’s career that has informed the depth and complexity of the characters in her mystery, thriller and romance books.
By Alan McDermott
About Here the Truth Lies 
was literally raised with books: his grandfather ran a mobile library in Birmingham, UK and his parents inherited a random selection of the books. Once he discovered a trove of well-used titles from Zane Gray’s Riders of the Purple Sage, HG Wells’ The Invisible Man and Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities to more obscure stuff, he was hooked.
