Into the Fire

It seems the ones who know are . . . Only the Dead

                                   

Only the Dead by Jack Carr is Book 6 in The James Reece Thriller Series. 

Lovers of this series, be sure to read the Preface before diving into the story. Jack wrote those words as an introduction to this book in the series which will delve into the process of plans, actions, and consequences while highlighting the passage of time and the secret emotional struggle. 

Before I review this sixth book, I want to commend Jack Carr for his bravery in writing this story. It's as contemporary as a thriller can possibly be addressing many of the deepest issues of our day attacking the generational foundations of these issues straight up. It's gutsy, unquestionable, and will be revelatory for many of its readers. Yes, of course, he takes some liberties, but I would suggest if the truth be known, outside of not naming actual current people, the liberties are few. I want to thank him for daring to define and address the current dilemmas that have been brewing and ongoing for a long, long time. 

****Potential Spoilers****

In Book 5 James Reece was taken away in cuffs by the FBI from his Montana household and accused of assassinating the President. As the pages of Book 6 open, we learn he is in solitary confinement, darkness, naked, fed maybe twice a day through an opening to his concrete cell. He has lost the ability to determine how long he's been incarcerated with absolutely no light to attempt to define day and night. At some point, he is taken out of that cell, allowed to clean up, and some explanation follows given to him by his CIA associate/boss Vic Rodriguez. 

****Potential Spoilers Concluded****

Readers of the series will remember "Alice", the quantum computer in the secret lower echelons of a government facility who was rather fond of James Reece. "She" played a part in clearing his name but has gone dark. From this moment on, the past plays a very important part of the present and begins a long, hard journey for James Reece to uncover what his deceased father has secretly provided for him - if he can figure it all out. 

Needless to say, it's a brutal path leading to some startling conclusions, and the road to definitive answers is a bloody and deadly one with a critical message from James' dad: "Trust no one." 

Jack does a brilliant job of casting aspersions on each character trying to figure out the mystery Tom Reece has left for his son as James has no choice but to trust a small group of men and one older woman who knew or were close to his dad. 

Only the Dead is a fascinating story with a lot of truth in fictional form. Written superbly by Jack Carr, this thriller is so much more than just a story. For new readers, I highly recommend you start at Book One to understand the history and motivation of James Reece, but IF you can't do that for whatever reason, this is a must-read book. 

Truly, thank you, Jack. 

 

Father, it's a brutal world right now, but then it has been since The Fall of Man. Please guard and protect Jack as he continues to write and reveal things most of us will never know or experience. Thank you for his courage. Please bless him and his family and keep them safe from all harm. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 
                    

Tuesday Tunes

       

                          Glory Hallelujah!

 

Father, Your Truth Is Marching On. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

 

We honor them . . .

                       

Freedom isn't free. We honor those who gave it all. Thank you is not enough. Their sacrifice will always matter. 

Memorial Day 2023 

 

Lord God, thank you is never enough for this One Nation under God in the Name of Jesus. 

 

Sunday's Offerings

 

     He [Jesus] said to them: "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by His own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

 

     Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them. 

 

Acts 1:7-8 (NIV)

Acts 2:2-4 (NIV)

Back in the day . . .

                     

Many years ago at The Flying Horseshoe Dude Ranch in the Teanaway Valley, Washington state. The filly's name was Minnie-Ha-Ha and she was a lovely horse to ride. My BFF and I went for three summers, for one week the first year, and two for the remaining two years. Some of the best times of my early life. Loved it. 

 

Father, thank you for my precious childhood. No words are adequate to express how thankful I am. The memories are beyond wonderful. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Favorite Phrases

                                         

Do you have particular phrases you enjoy using? I do. One of my absolute favorites is this one because it "fits": "comfortable in my own skin". It took me a long time to get to this place of comfort, but I made it. 

Another simple one: "the go-to person" signifying a problem solver, dependable, easy to count on for what is needed.

How about the descriptive "scatter-brain" or "running around like a chicken with its head cut off"? Incredibly descriptive of having too many things to do and no idea where to start or how to best do them.

How about the visual and tactile expression "smooth as silk"? So many applications for this versatile phrase. 

This one was used by a friend. Not very complimentary, but I confess I laughed: "Dumber than a box of rocks" or how about "Dumber than dirt"? 

It took me a while to warm up to this little two-word phrase, but I confess I really like it now because it makes me think of toughness in both men and women, a description they've earned because of what they can do in hard situations. I tend to think of those in the military when I hear it and everyone knows that whoever is labeled with these two words is not to be trifled with. So here it is: "Bad Ass". (It will offend those who for some reason have decided that "ass" is a cuss word when it's not. Yes, it can used in vulgar ways, but I still like this phrase when it's used in appreciation for tough individuals.) 

Let me see your favorite phrases. 

 

Father, you know my heart. Continue to help me be the one you designed me to be. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.  

 

 

Follow up on Season/Series Finales

               

In "The Equalizer" Robyn McCall (Queen Latifah) is always able to handle the serious trouble that comes her way. Former CIA, she has skills. Deadly skills she prefers not to have to use. Extremely well-cast and acted, it can get a little preachy, but overall it's a well-written thriller-type drama. Harry (computer genius) and his wife Mel (she's a former sniper with all kinds of defensive skills), and Dante (a police detective - on suspension in the finale) unite to help fix sometimes impossible problems for Robyn's diverse clients who need her to find or remedy whatever will solve their needs - people who no one else will or can help. But, in the finale, she and those very important friends are in dire trouble because of a past incident in a foreign country. And the finale leaves us in a terrifying cliffhanger where there appears to be no viable solution for getting this one under control. 

What became my favorite NCIS drama, "NCIS-LA", ended its 14-year run Sunday night in its Series Finale. It was exciting, tear-jerking (for me), and a fitting conclusion to the entertaining drama of some very rewarding seasons of great acting/writing/character development/and occasional laugh out loud moments with each character. (Interesting that "Sam Hanna" appeared in the Season Finale on Monday night's "NCIS Hawaii", saving heroine "Special Agent Jane Tennant".) The final scene of "NCIS-LA" was fitting to conclude the drama, letting the never-ending mystery of Hetty's disappearance end in a continued mystery. 

 

Father, thank you for these amazing actors. Please bless each one of their lives with the absolute knowledge of who you are and how you've given them their incredible abilities. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Tuesday Tunes

         

This has got to be my favorite Elvis song. Really features his crooning voice. Great lyrics. So well done. 

 

Father, only you know our hearts and where we will spend eternity. Thank you for rescuing me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

That time of the year . . .

               

TV Seasons are coming to an end and their finales are often cliffhangers, sometimes heartbreaking, and hopefully always done especially well. In the "heartbreaking" department, one of my favorite new shows "Fire Country" pictured above with its main cast came to an end of their first season. A definite gut-punch. Highly recommend this one. Definitely start from Episode One to get the full effect of this amazing family drama. 

   

"So Help Me Todd" wrapped up its season Thursday night with a shocking last scene and a bit of intrigue from Todd. Extremely well-cast and a mixture of drama, slapstick, life pains, and comedy, this investigative court drama brings laughter and tears in the same episodes. Highly recommend.  

                                     

"NCIS-LA" will end its 14-year run Sunday night in its Series Finale. I've loved this one from start to finish and am so sorry to see it go. Here are the primary characters that have survived cast changes and are at the heart of this action drama with great writing and wonderful character development. It always hurts when the good ones say goodbye. 

           

"The Equalizer" will have its Season Finale Sunday night and there's little doubt it'll be a good one. My guess is there will be a bit of a cliffhanger, but I won't know until I watch it. 

Many people don't watch series television anymore. I find the good ones inspiring. When the writing is noticeably well done, it's a pleasure to watch the characters come to life on the screen. 

 

Father, thank you for the beauty of acting, creating, writing - all the talents you so generously give. May each one know from whom their gifts come. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

 

Sunday's Offerings

    And I saw a beast coming out of the sea. He had ten horns and seven heads, with ten crowns on his horns, and on each head a blasphemous name. The beast I saw resembled a leopard, but had feet like those of a bear and a mouth like that of a lion. The dragon gave the beast his power and his throne and great authority. One of the heads of the beast seemed to have had a fatal would, but the fatal wound had healed. The whole world was astonished and followed the beast. Men worshiped the dragon because he had given authority to the beast, and they also worshiped the beast and asked, "Who is like the beast? Who can make war against him?"

     The beast was given a mouth to utter proud words and blasphemies and to exercise his authority for forty-two months. He opened his mouth to blaspheme God, and to slander his name and his dwelling place and those who live in heaven. He was given power to make war against the saints and to conquer them. And he was given authority over every tribe, people, language, and nation. All inhabitants of the earth will worship the beast -- all whose names have not been written in the book of life belonging to the Lamb that was slain from the creation of the world.

     He who has an ear, let him hear.

          If anyone is to go into captivity,

              into captivity he will go.

          If anyone is to be killed with the sword,

              with the sword he will be killed.

 This calls for patient endurance and faithfulness on the part of the saints. 

 

Revelation 13:1-10 (NIV)

     

Friday Five

                           

So. IF you have a particular weakness for certain items that you mostly can't resist when you go shopping, here are five of mine. 

Sunglasses. I have a terrible time resisting sunglasses. I have more than I wear. I know: that's ridiculous. 

Eyeliner. Every time I see a certain shade I wear, I buy it because I can't be sure it's going to be there the next time I need it.

Lipstick. I have to hustle past new shades. I also have more than I can ever wear. It's not right. 

Red Pens. Now I don't have an excess of red pens, but when I see a certain kind I like, well, you know what happens.

Flashlights. I love the military bright multi-faceted kinds. I need to stop.

Here's my bonus confession: Knives. Yes, smaller knives. Sharp pretty dangerous ones. 

 

Father, thank you is never enough for all you've done for me. Never was, will be, or is. Desperate for you, Lord. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

 

Seriously?

 

I'm a serious person. But I love to laugh. Hysterically at times if possible. But, back to being serious. I am. I prefer serious conversations, discussions, questions, topics. If during those engagements, laughing ensues. Bring it on. I'm all in. 

I'm not into surface talk, light and fluffy conversations. And with me, I want it real. Purposeful. Intense is good in some cases - time to exit in others. 

That's not to say I can't be silly because I can. I love to laugh. 

But I truly am a serious person.

If you've visited here and elsewhere where I am, you've seen my self-description: "Passionate: right or wrong" - that's me. 

What about you? Are you easy going? Are you light-hearted? Are you gruff? Are you silly? Who are you? 

 

Father, thank you for how you've made me. Emotional and passionate. Didn't always use it for your glory, that's for sure. But you loved me anyway and rescued me from myself. So grateful for your love, forgiveness, mercy, and grace. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Wednesday's Writings

                       

My current WIP is moving along slowly, but it's moving. As you know, because I've reiterated it an over-the-top amount of times, I don't write genre romances. I write love stories heavy on the romance.

One of the differences I perceive between those two identifiers is this: So many genre romances are built on conflicts, conflicts, conflicts. So many of those conflicts are based on poor communication, silly decisions, and overall denials of how two people genuinely feel about each other - hence: game playing. I hate emotional game-playing in real life and between characters in stories. 

The natural occurring conflicts in relationships usually involve misunderstandings or unintended mistakes. People who want to be in a relationship usually also want to respect the other person and keep certain kinds of joking or sarcasm to a minimum until it's understood what is acceptable or at least tolerable. Learning about someone usually takes some time and willingness to be perceptive and patient. Lasting love isn't built in a day. It's the same with friendship. 

The protagonist in this story has run away from himself. He's sick of what he's been and wants to change, but he really doesn't have quite enough incentive - or even the know-how - to change his nearly lifelong lifestyle. His best friend from their early school years - both of them successful adults in their individual professions - became a Christian several years ago. That didn't sit well with the protagonist, but his best friend only mentioned it that one time. Until . . . 

And so the story goes . . . 

A first-person male POV character study of himself . . . 

 

Father, you know I know apart from you, I can do nothing. I thank you for every good thing in my life. Only you, Lord. Thank you for stories, words, characters, inspiration. Only you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

 

 

 

Tuesday Tunes

           

"Without love, where would you be now?" Great song ("Long Train Running") of many from The Doobie Brothers.

 

Without your love, Lord, we wouldn't exist. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

 

Cruel and . . . Absent Pity

                                                       

Absent Pity by Blake Pierce is Book 1 in the Amber Young Mystery Series.

Amber Young is the editor for the puzzle section of the newspaper where she works for a demanding and overbearing boss. She's gifted in both figuring out complex puzzles, ciphers, crosswords, and codes and in creating them. She's always careful to make her puzzles doable for her readers but not simplistic - even though they seem so to her. She's far more capable of making nearly unsolvable puzzles, but she takes it somewhat easy on those who participate on the puzzle page. 

Her home is filled with puzzles of all kinds, and they pretty much occupy her life. She's attracted to one of the reporters but too shy to let him know. She plays online chess with another puzzle guy who works for a competitor newspaper. 

When a ruthless killer sends what seems like unsolvable puzzles to the local police as a "hint" to where these individual victims are held, the FBI sends Agent Simon Phelps to help solve the case. When Amber sees what is posted, she calls on a help line to let them know they're not getting the puzzle correctly. She's invited in to help solve it.

This begins the clever and complex journey to saving the lives of women the "Puzzle Killer" has selected to set up in a torturous setting and left to die. Amber is quick to figure out his cipher and works at a frantic pace to try and avoid the obvious and sift through to the hidden clues to get to each one before they die.

Blake Pierce is always good for an intense mystery, and Absent Pity is no exception. If you like the mystery genre with a unique heroine who's truly a brilliant "puzzler", this will be an interesting and entertaining story for you. 

 

Father, thank you for the creativity you've given to us. You didn't have to share it, but your benevolence is never ending. Please continue to bless Blake with more stories for the many readers who love mysteries. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Sunday's Offerings

 

She is clothed with strength and dignity;

   she can laugh at the days to come.

She speaks with wisdom,

   and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

She watches over the affairs of her household

   and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her children arise and call her blessed;

   her husband also, and he praises her:

   "Many women do noble things,

   but you surpass them all."

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;

   but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

Proverbs 31: 25-30 (NIV) 

 

Happy Mother's Day, Beautiful Mothers! 

Excerpt . . . again.

                               

From my novel . . . in a love song

Two

Early June in this small eastern Washington town and the evening was still a bit warm. He inhaled the fresh night air, enjoying the hint of sage smell. Hands in his pressed Levis’ pockets, his self-shined boots took him back the way he came from his new home, a second floor furnished studio apartment in a glorified boarding house where he was grateful to pay the extra for the private bath in his room.

     “Evenin’, Mr. Rivers.” Round in stature with silky silver hair that hung nearly to her waist when it wasn’t pulled away from her face in a tight and tidy bun, Eva Johnson identified him without looking up from her entryway desk she seemed to man 24 hours a day, although he knew she didn’t.

     “Mrs. Johnson. You’re up late,” he replied, headed for the stairs.

     “Uh huh. Sweet dreams, Mr. Rivers.” She glanced up after him, and he smiled at her.

     He unlocked the door and knew it was going to be a long night of tossing and turning. The woman at the bar had taken up residence in his mind’s eye and other places he couldn’t deny. He cussed in frustration.

      Seated on the bed he tugged hard on his boots, removed his socks, and rested his elbows on his knees staring at the floor and his bare feet. Thirty-five years come and gone so quickly. And remained unchanged. That rambling man approach to life hadn’t netted him much other than a good bank account because if there was one constant in his life, it was work. He always worked. Somewhere. Everywhere. He kept working.

     He could’ve flirted with her, he supposed. Demonstrated his interest. Maybe even brought her home with him or went with her. But he thought not. Although he’d never quite understood them, he’d been with enough women to discern a few things about them. Most every one of them wanted some kind of respect but not near as much as they wanted some kind of love. This gal most likely had some guy like himself lay the big line about lovin’ her and then at some point walked out, leavin’ her in tears, feeling used and embarrassed but still in love enough to cry. He’d played that game enough times to know the results, although he’d never quite been able to write “I love you” into the script, and received no pleasure in the hurt he caused while knowing without a doubt it was time to move on.

     And every time he couldn’t help but wonder what this thing called love really felt like.

     He’d been fond of a few of the women in his life going back to his first real girlfriend in his high school years. Sandi Bentley, the cheerleader without a big head on her shoulders, sweet and kind, and built like a woman. They’d been friends as kids, but she moved away in the fifth grade. By the time they were reunited as sophomores at the same high school, he wasn’t a kid anymore in so many ways.

     He lay back on the double bed, his head resting in his hands. He wanted a cigarette, and he hadn’t smoked for probably five years with any consistency, but he kept a pack in his Jeep for times like this, debating whether or not to go get it out of the glove box. The welcome flow of nicotine might slow and subdue his other cravings, relax him enough to get some sleep.

     Pulling himself up, he moved to the tiny open closet to retrieve his tennis shoes, jamming them on his bare feet. Grabbing his keys, he slipped out of his room and tried to tread quietly down the stairs.

     “Not sleepy, Mr. Rivers?”

     He stammered, “Forgot somethin’ in the Jeep.”

     “Uh huh.”

     No one ever seemed able to jar his confidence. Not men of any age or women of any kind. But somehow Eva Johnson, proprietor and night owl, unsettled him with her few words and knowing looks from penetrating pretty hazel eyes. The first time he moseyed up the front steps of this huge old house with the massive wrap around porch sitting back off the cracked concrete road, he admired the lush green lawn and exorbitant foliage in the landscaped grounds surrounding it. Storybook material. When he pulled open the screen door and turned the fancy glass doorknob and walked inside, Eva Johnson was standing in the lobby like she was expecting him.

     “Don’t know how long you’re gonna stay, but it might be awhile? I have one room left with a bath in it. Cost you more, but I figure you don’t mind what it costs.” She’d walked over to her desk then and handed him a map of the available rooms with the daily and monthly rates, placing a red X on the one with the private bathroom.

     The lawn and flowers stopped at the back of the house where there was ample asphalt parking for guests who roomed there short or long term.

     Now he stepped down the front steps and around the inlaid river rock walkway at the side of the massive house to the back where his old Wrangler with its oxidized paint displaying an unidentifiable color and 350,000 plus miles waited topless and of course unlocked in the farthest spot from the back door which was secured every night at 9 o’clock. He went directly to the passenger side, reached over to the glove box and grabbed his probably stale pack of Winstons, removing one and lighting it with a faded blue Bic lighter. Leaning against his rig, he smoked and breathed in the night air. The frogs and insects sang a busy melody while his eyes scanned the sky and found more stars than he’d seen in a lot of months and a moon almost full. The chill began to creep into the early morning hour and through the cotton of his western-cut baby blue shirt.

     After taking his last drag, he made sure his tennis shoe ground the life of the cigarette to an absolute death. The scent of alfalfa reached his nose, and he took a deep whiff of one of his favorite smells. Without a hint he felt tears in his eyes and he swore in a whisper, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes. Closing the door of his Jeep, he walked swiftly back to the entrance of Eva’s Inn, figuring she’d still be there but hoping she wasn’t.

     Only the low glow from a wall sconce remained in the lobby as he trudged up the stairs.

                                     

Father, you give me the stories and I write them down. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

Who is the . . . Broker of Lies

                                                        

Broker of Lies by Steven James begins A Travis Brock Thriller Series. 

Travis Brock works for the Pentagon under Colonel Clarke as a high-level redactor. His eidetic memory will prove to be a necessary asset as he makes it personal when he takes on the discovery of who set the fire to his house that killed his wife Sienna. A year and a half later with the facial and other scars to prove he survived the fire that took the life of his wife who he tried to rescue but couldn't, he's no closer to finding out who set it when an unusual FOIA request arrives on his desk from Homeland Security and Red Team leader Nathan Lassiter. What he sees is an impossible acrostic, and in order to understand it he needs to contact a member of the Red Team who's been taken into custody at the airport. 

From this moment on, as is typical in the stories of Steven James, the complex mystery is slowly revealed by introducing the many players in their tangle of agendas. Brock and the Red Team member (Flower Girl) wrestle their way out of a dangerous situation but find themselves in even more danger while being deemed potential traitors and terrorists. The only thing they've been able to know for sure is they need to get to Tennessee for a particular conference about the fragile position of the nuclear power plants in the USA, their potential for being hacked, and what is necessary to eliminate that danger. What they find at the conference is nothing but more real danger and trouble, especially when they're separated to tackle different aspects of the multiple problems.

Broker of Lies begins as a mystery, laying the background and the trail for the hunt which turns out to be multi-faceted. Along about Chapter 16 or so, the story morphs to a thriller as James elevates the threats and clarifies who's leading the packs of villains. He concludes the chilling journey with an ugly twist I didn't see coming. Better readers than I might've figured it out, but it wasn't until just before the reveal that I got it. Will be waiting for the second in the series, and, like Brock will be, I'll be hoping for justice. 

 

Father, you've gifted and blessed Steven James immensely. Please continue to give him what he needs to continue to do what you've called him to do. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

"Writing" movies . . .

         

I'd be willing to guess that most writers of love stories/romance novels picture their hero and heroine and who they envision playing them in a movie. 

Maybe not most, but some. I don't select an actor for all of my novels, but I definitely have a picture of my hero - even more than for my heroine.

I've always wanted to write my novels to give the reader a "visual" experience - like watching a film. 

So, just for fun, I'm going to tell you who would be the perfect actor for Dale Rivers in my novel . . . in a love song.

His name is Max Thieriot. You might know him from the new series "Fire Country" where he plays Bode Leone, and before that he was also in "SEAL Team" with David Boreanaz and other strong character actors plus other series and movies. 

                          

                             

                                           

 

Father, thank you for writers, musicians, actors, and the creative artists to whom you've given talents and gifts. May each one know they got it all from you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

 

 

 

Tuesday Tunes

           

A solid group (The Association) with a lot of hits, "Never My Love" being one of the prettier songs in this love song category. Hope you enjoy it. 

 

Father, you are Love. We can't really grasp it without you. Thank you is never enough for yours for us. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.