by Kerry Peresta
October 21 – November 15, 2024 Virtual Book Tour
Synopsis:
OLIVIA CALLAHAN SUSPENSE
The victim of a vicious assault six years ago that resulted in a traumatic brain injury, Olivia Callahan is now a private investigator with her own firm. The assault that almost took her life resulted in a spectacular metamorphosis. No longer the shy, passive introvert she once was, she’s become a driving and determined force. However, the lack of impulse control caused by her rewired brain causes her to run toward trouble instead of away from it.
When Olivia sends her colleague, Sherry, to the Florida panhandle to find a missing friend, Hannah; the search takes Sherry into the dark heart of an abusive, hostage situation. The man Hannah married is cruel, dangerous, and well-connected. Olivia reels in her favorite cop—Sergeant Hunter Faraday—for a discreet assist, and it soon becomes clear that Hannah’s new husband is adept at waging war against anything that blocks his way.
While rescuing Hannah is Olivia’s primary goal, her incarcerated ex-husband has other plans. He’s collected friends who support his obsessive need to punish her for her role in his murder conviction, and a time bomb is ticking.
As Olivia and Sherry battle to save Hannah, try to neutralize the fiendish plan of an ex bent on revenge, and endure a terrifying race for their lives through the Florida wetlands; a final betrayal waits patiently in the dark. Smiling.
Praise for The Crushing:
“Fans of Frieda McFadden and Lisa Jewell will stay up past their bedtimes devouring the latest thriller from Kerry Peresta! Haunted by her abusive ex-husband, P.I. Olivia Callahan had better keep her friends close and her enemies closer. Now, if she could only tell them apart. When one of her best friends goes missing in a Florida swamp, the clock is ticking. The suspense winds tighter on every page!”
~ Kelly Oliver, author of the Jessica James Mysteries
“The tension in Kerry Peresta’s The Crushing is off the chain. Chilling! ‘I can beat this,’ the captive whispers from her locked room. ‘I will escape.’ Taut. Gripping. Engrossing. Highly recommended!”
~ Tracy Clark, award-winning author of the Cass Raines Chicago mysteries and the Detective Harriet Foster series.
“Rich details, a strong, character-driven plot, and enough snaky twists and turns to give you vertigo – this fourth entry in Kerry Peresta’s Olivia Callahan series will have you sweating bullets and turning pages like a tornado, leaving you as breathless as a mile sprinter. There’s nothing less simple than a simple missing-persons case, and there are far worse things than gators in the dark, dank Florida boonies. Don’t believe me? Read The Crushing.”
~ J.R. Sanders, Shamus Award winning author of the Nate Ross novels.
Book Details:
Genre: Thriller, Suspense
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: October 15, 2024
Number of Pages: 310
ISBN: 978-1-68512-770-1
Series: Olivia Callahan Suspense, Book Four
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads | Level Best Books
Read an excerpt:
PROLOGUE
Sherry crammed the phone against her ear as she dashed through the thick undergrowth, trudged across boggy marshes, and arrived at a feeder stream.
“Olivia! Olivia?”
Nothing.
“Dammit!” she muttered, shoving her cell back into her pocket. She calculated that the nearest town rested fifteen miles down the highway out here in Florida-cracker country, and holing up until the shooter emerged seemed the best option.
She should’ve known there’d be no service out here.
Where did he go? She scraped mud off her face and rubbed her sunburned cheeks. He actually fired a weapon. On no planet had she ever thought this little trek would become a fight for her life, yet here she stood, hands glued to the trunk of a huge palm, eyes darting back and forth across the marshy, pancake-flat wastelands of inland Florida. Behind her lay a wide body of water surrounded by suspicious-looking marsh grass and, she suspected, alligators…and in front of her lay miles of marshland and bedraggled palms spearing the sky.
Why had she volunteered for this assignment, again?
“I just had to get my investigator’s license,” she muttered. “Maybe I should’ve stayed put as Olivia’s assistant instead of private investigator. This isn’t quite how I envisioned the job.”
She rubbed her calves. How long had she been running? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? An hour? Where was Olivia?
The distant blast of gunfire reached her ears. A bullet sliced through the air and hit the tree she’d wrapped herself around, missing her hand by inches. Sherry felt her stomach freeze into a block of ice.
Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she slid her hand to the paddle holster on her belt, gripped her Smith & Wesson revolver, and released the safety strap. Another crack of gunfire erupted closer this time. She swallowed, hard. A whoosh of air zipped past a mere twelve inches in front of her nose. Sherry dropped to the ground like a stone. The spikey bushes on the ground dug into her arms, her chest, her legs. She located a slight rise about ten feet away, and hastily low-crawled through the weeds on her stomach, edged to the top of the incline, and threw herself over the top.
Breathing hard, she peeked out above the edge. The crack-crack-crack of shots fired caused her to dive for cover. She took a deep breath, wiped the sweat off her palms, and fired back a volley of her own. When silence fell, she relaxed against the incline and tugged out her phone. A signal!
With fumbling fingers, she pressed in Olivia’s number. She waited through one ring, then two, before her call was answered.
“Where are you?” Olivia’s anxious voice demanded. “Are you okay?”
Tears of relief trailed down her cheeks. She rattled off a description of her location. Her gaze trained on the best-case origination of shots fired, she whispered, “Olivia! I found Hannah. She’s exhausted and weak, but I’ve got her.” Sherry listened to Olivia’s instructions. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the airport, but…wait. I hear something,” she whispered, and stuck the phone back in her pocket. She gripped her weapon with both hands.
Minutes passed. Sherry tried to breathe.
Something shuffled through the grass. Her eyes sliced left, right.
The shuffling stopped.
The hum of cicadas intensified. She swatted at mosquitoes. Sweat trickled down her face.
Sherry adjusted her grip on her sidearm.
She strained to hear more footsteps, but only heard the faint squawk of herons and hoot of owls. The setting sun left a red slash on the horizon. Bats dipped and swooped above her.
She lowered her weapon, puzzled. Had one of her prior shots wounded her target?
Taking her time, she rose from her niche behind the incline.
A single shot burst from her adversary’s weapon and sizzled through the air.
She cried out in pain. The bullet had nicked her, the sting of a monster wasp. She groped her waist with her free hand and lifted it away wet with blood. Rage rushed through her chest and down her arms. She planted her legs wide and emptied her weapon in the direction of the shooter.
The phone in her pocket vibrated with a text as she reloaded.
Another bullet clipped her in the shoulder.
The sound of sirens wailed in the distance.
She collapsed.
***
Excerpt from The Crushing by Kerry Peresta. Copyright 2024 by Kerry Peresta. Reproduced with permission from Kerry Peresta. All rights reserved.
Guest Post
If the Thrill is Gone
The question of what genre I’d write was settled ten years ago, when my first agent held my hand through her comprehensive editing process and told me gently, ‘You can make this manuscript women’s fiction or you can make it suspense, but you can’t do both’.
I gave this statement a lot of thought. What did my personal lane look like? I’d written magazine articles, short stories, even a humor column, all of which held snarky women’s-fictionesque bits in them. But, a deep dive into the dark side held a draw so intense I could not ignore it. Though I loved writing humor or a cute women’s fiction short story, I would question myself about what I’d written. Did it hold a reader’s attention? Did it make people laugh? Will they relate to what I wrote regarding these characters’ relationships? What if readers don’t appreciate or understand my sense of humor? What if they just ‘don’t get it’?
In stark contrast, when I slid into my “start” position to begin a gory scene, I was riveted. Picture a Formula One race car driver, hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, sitting low and sleek in his metal missile, thinking about only one thing – the start signal. Now, picture me at my desk in the same position, hands at ten and two over my keyboard, my mouth slightly open in anticipation, my pulse speeding up, riveted to one thing – how to make the gore and gristle authentic. For instance, if guns are involved and someone is shot, how does the blood erupt? Does it trickle? Spurt? Does it gush? Where will the blood pool, and how large is the stain? What color is it as it dries? How does it smell? Within the grisly world of cliff-hangers and life-or-death scenarios, I’m off to the races, my fingers pounding my keyboard so hard I wonder how it survives. Let’s not even talk about the thrill I experience when I write about a brain injury, which lobes are affected, the lingering deficits, and how it can make my character even more dark and interesting. Even better than that, describing an autopsy. Ahh. The autopsy scene sent me into raptures.
During these golden moments, I don’t second-guess myself about what a reader may or may not think. I’m on glorious auto-pilot, and don’t even care. Maybe this is my voice, which is a sad state of affairs and I may have serial-killer tendencies, but it’s apparent that the choice to write stay-up-all-night thrillers exhilarates me, and writing something tame and decidedly non-dangerous does not.
However.
The dangerous aspects must occur against a high-contrast backdrop of a story about normal, though flawed, people. Their families. Their dreams. Their new careers. Romantic relationships. The fun of it happens somewhere around chapter four, when my twisted brain swerves off the road onto a dark and overgrown path. I’m left to sit back, stare at what I’ve written, bite a fingernail and wonder why this detour happened. How am I going to thread this needle into a plot twist that works? Where is the motivation for this character’s strange behavior? Is it dangerous? Does it make me breathlessly want to turn the page? Where the heck am I going with this?
The writing journey is often like a high-speed chase, but it can also be as satisfying and serene as a Sunday afternoon drive. I am forever grateful to the agent that inspired me to pick a lane, and try not to veer from it. I’ve learned that if the thrill is gone, I need to get off the median and back into the right lane.
I’d love to hear from you! If you’d like to stay in touch, visit my website, here.
Author Bio:
Kerry Peresta is a suspense novelist, and her releases include The Deadening, The Rising, The Torching, and The Crushing, books one-four in the Olivia Callahan Suspense series; and Back Before Dawn, a standalone thriller, all published by Level Best Books Publishing. Her magazine articles have appeared in Hilton Head’s Local Life Magazine, The Bluffton Breeze, Lady Lowcountry, and Island Events Magazine. She spent twenty-five years in advertising as an account manager, creative director, editor, and copywriter. She is past chapter president of the Maryland Writers’ Association and a current member and presenter of Hilton Head Island Writers’ Network, South Carolina Writers Association, Pat Conroy Literary Center, International Thriller Writers, and the Sisters in Crime organization. Kerry is the mother of four adult kids, a flock of grandkids, and three cats. She and her husband moved to Hilton Head Island in 2015.
Catch Up With Kerry Peresta:
kerryperesta.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @kerryperesta
Amazon Author Page
Instagram – @kerryperesta
Twitter/X – @kerryperesta
Facebook Author Page
Facebook Personal Page
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