The Palm Reader by Christopher Bowron Book Tour and Giveaway :)
The Palm Reader
Jackson
Walker #2
by
Christopher Bowron
Genre:
Thriller, Suspense
“… fantastic
characters and a truly spellbinding plot—the best book in its genre
I have ever read.” —Susan
Keefe, TheColumbiaReview.com
“A
gripping thriller, which excels in unusual twists and turns,
explorations of family heritage and truths, and one man’s ongoing
journey as he explores new connections and threats to his
life.” —Diane
Donovan, Midwest Book Review
Jackson
Walker once again faces his demons in this haunting sequel to Devil
in the Grass. Now
working as an investigative lawyer for Peter Robertson, Jack teams
with Janie Callaghan to solve the disappearance of a sleazy client
specializing in taboo pornography. Meanwhile the evil head of the
Church of Satan weaves an intricate web to lure Walker as the
sacrificial lamb in an Everglades Black Mass ritual.
LOLITA
SHIFTED HER LARGE frame in the overstuffed chair and l oked across
the small round table at her client. It had been a long day and she
slept little the night before. The room glowed softly, lit by an
overabundance of randomly placed candles, the decor heavy and full of
warm colors. Her cat, Princess, sat on a chair in the corner preening
her black fur.
Lolita
gently took the woman’s small, white hands into her large black
palms, engulfing them in warmth. She rubbed the tops with her thumbs,
pulling the client into her presence, Lolita’s voice soothing and
deep. She turned the hands over, examining them carefully. Each set
of hands showed their own story. Sometimes that story came to her as
a vision, and sometimes she had to rely on the creases and lines to
divine the truth.
The
spirits felt strong the past few days, and she was startled by what
she saw. Lolita closed her eyes, not wanting her turned up whites to
scare her customer. Once the vision passed, she opened her eyes and
examined the lines in the woman’s palms, not really taking notice.
Lolita tried to come to terms with what she needed to tell her. Sandy
Templeton, twenty-six years old, lived in Bonita Springs. She’d
been given an hour’s time with Lolita by her friends as a wedding
shower gift, which was very common. Lolita, by her own admission,
could be wrong in her palmistry and even her tarot readings from time
to time, but the visions never failed her.
She
placed Sandy’s hands palms down on the table.
“Sweetheart,”
she said in her South Floridian drawl, “I rarely do this, as I need
the money, but this is important. I’m going to give you your gift
card back and I want you to make an appointment to come back and see
me.”
“But—”
“Sweetheart,
your fiancé . . . is he tall with dirty-blond hair, and a scar under
his right eye?”
“Why
yes, ma’am.” Fear crept over her pretty face.
“Is
he planning on going over water in the near future?”
Hesitating,
she grew paler by the second. “He’s gonna go fishing with his
buddies this evening after work.”
“Sweetheart,
I want you to go now, and when he comes home, I want you to make love
to him like you’ve never loved a man before. I want you to take
your time and ease into making him not want to leave the house. Do
you follow?”
“Yes
ma’am. What is it?”
“Will
he be on the water tomorrow?”
“No.
We have plans. He won’t be happy.”
“Let
me put it this way: No one will be happy if you let him walk out that
door tonight. I want you to go now and shine up that pretty little
white ass and shake it for all it’s worth.”
*
* * *
Lolita
turned the deadbolt on the door after the young woman left. She
didn’t like doing what she’d just done. Sandy would probably be
able to seduce and keep her future husband from leaving and there
would be no way of proving the vision would have come to fruition.
Sandy would think her a crazy old black lady and never come back. It
would be a smudge on Lolita’s reputation. She shook her head and
went back into the parlor, picking up her tarot cards. Lolita eased
her large posterior back
into
her old, rickety chair.
She
had seen the drowning of Sandy’s future husband. The vision
appeared abruptly and was gone within seconds. What appeared
immediately after the first vison seemed clearly unrelated to the
young woman—an augury jumping over the drowning fisherman. No less
important, but the calling appeared
stronger.
Lolita knew better than to ignore the spirits. She saw two more
deaths, one being her own.
Shuffling
the cards, she thought about her question until the vision appeared
crystal clear. A tall man with dark hair— Seminole blood. Strange
how the Seminoles often crept into her head. They were strong in
spirit. She’d heard of an old Indian man who lived on the southern
edge of the Everglades. She made a pact with herself to bless him
with her presence one day.
The
young man she envisioned lived locally, somewhat famous for a recent
endeavor. He appeared to be in grave danger. She saw his grisly
death, a death that needed to be averted. The man looked to be
destined for greatness, a champion of South Florida. The vision was
conflicted, depicting both their endings, but neither was clear; she
saw a vague, this-or-that vision. Most
dangerous. She shivered.
She
flipped over the first card. Strength. Yes, she’d seen strength in
the young man’s face. His grounding and past? Solid. The Seven of
Wands . . . Yes, there will
be a battle, which can be won, but how will I be involved? There
was no doubt she would be. He would spurn her—she would need to be
persistent. Lolita sipped her tea, now quite cold. She turned the
next card. The Fool, inverted. Is
he apathetic? Do I dare get involved?
She
clearly needed to, but the card indicated that the quaere,
or “seeker,” appeared foolhardy, a risk-taker. She didn’t have
money to lose, so there was little risk monetarily. She flipped
again. The Queen of Swords. There would be a battle of wits.
Very
interesting.
One
last card, and when she flipped it, her hand went to her mouth.
The
Devil.
*
* * *
Lolita
gathered the cards together and blew out the many candles spread
about the small house, which served as both her place of business and
her home. The spirits didn’t need any more encouragement today. A
cold sweat formed on her brow and moistened her shirt. Who
is this person? Going downstairs,
she
turned on her desktop and searched for a while, turning up loose ends
and improbabilities. After an hour, she switched tactics and typed
Paranormal/Ft. Myers
celebrities. She went on a tangent relating to Satanism
for a good half an hour before she struck gold. An article in the
Miami Herald mentioned
a Jackson Walker, part Seminole, who brought down a South Florida
cult, the Church of Set. Two seconds after she saw Walker’s
picture, she knew him to be her target.
It
began to fall into place. Lolita remembered him as the hero who took
down the witch Henrietta LePley. Smiling, Lolita muttered to herself,
“Anyone who has the balls to take on that woman deserves to be
saved.” This was not Lolita’s first encounter with the woman.
She’d seen her a few times, and each time her inner voice told her
to steer clear of the witch!
That was Henrietta—malevolent to the core, vindictive,
evil—a plethora of bad words might describe her. Lolita shivered,
crossing herself
to
ask for a blessing even though she wasn’t Catholic.
It
was uncommon for the visions to appear in pictures.
When
the future was painted for her, she would be foolish to ignore it.
She felt blessed on most occasions to be close with the spirits.
Conversely, she felt wary whenever the omen appeared dangerous. If
Jackson Walker was tied up with the Church of Satan or Set, whichever
demigod one preferred, he would be a sketchy person to be around.
Possibly deadly.
Christopher Bowron has always loved a great story, and possesses a unique gift of the magic to tell one. He can be described as a “thriller writer, with a mysterious undertone,” who can take his readers on believable journeys to the sharp edge of reality and the paranormal. The use of seat belts is optional while reading his work, but you may need to buckle up and hold on tight from time to time.
Christopher’s
roots are Canadian, and his two children make the fifth generation of
his family to live in Niagara-on-the-Lake Ontario. His other
home in Southwest Florida, in an area of everglades and ocean,
provided him with ammunition for his imagination. This inspired his
love of writing, and became the backdrop in the creation of his first
published, best-selling novel. “Devil In The Grass” and
soon to be released sequel “The Palm Reader.”
He is fortunate to
be able to live his own personal great story, which includes
graduating from Brock University with a Bachelor of Arts in History,
creating a wonderful family and life, running a successful real
estate brokerage, having the opportunities to enjoy fine wine, sports
and getting away to do some salt water fishing in Florida whenever
possible.
Follow
the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!
Comments
Post a Comment