The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic

The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Cover Reveal of Murmansk!

The 5th book in the Adventures of Gabriel Celtic series is set for release on July 18th, 2015!

In celebration, I am giving you the first look at the new cover for Murmansk!

After saving mankind from the Antichrist in his last adventure, (The Book of Gabriel), Gabe is finding it hard to discover a new niche for his life. Now happily married to his oldest friend as well as being a new grandpa besides, he is nevertheless anxious about his future.

The sudden appearance of the strange little man at his door quickly changes that however. 

Patrick McGruder is a mysterious man that is secretive about what he actually does. Be that as it may, he offers Gabe and his crew a job…in Russia! Although Gabe is not at all confident that they are the right people for the mission, McGruder assures them that he has been “watching” them for quite awhile and has the utmost confidence in their abilities.

Finally accepting the offer, they set off on their adventure…only to discover the simple project that they had been promised quickly turn into a protracted battle for life and death!

I have a couple more deals too!

Murmansk is on sale now! You can pre-order Murmansk on all retail sites for only $2.99 until release day!

Here are the links!

Available for pre-order @ Smashwords
Available for pre-order @ Amazon
Available for pre-order @ Barnes and Noble
Available for pre-order @ Kobo
Available for pre-order @ iBooks


In conjunction with the release of Murmansk, I have made Gabriel's Revenge FREE!

Now you can get both Murder! Too Close To Home and Gabriel's Revenge for free! Find out what all of the fuss is about on this series by picking up the first two stories for #FREE!

You can find Murder! here:

Copyright 2015 J.T. Lewis

Quote of the day 6-30

Dreams come true. Without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them.

John Updike

Monday, June 29, 2015

Minute Mystery Monday ~ Dead But Rich

A man is lying dead in a room. 

Beside him there is a large pile of gold and jewels on the floor, a chandelier is attached to the ceiling of the opulent room, and a large open window is letting in all of the elements.

It is doubtful that a detective will ever show up in the room to investigate.

Who is the man, where is he, and why won't law enforcement be coming there to investigate?

Find the answer HERE

Quote of the day 6-29

It is often said that before you die your life flashes before your eyes. It is in fact true. It's called living.


Terry Pratchett

Friday, June 26, 2015

Murmansk! Chapters 32, 33, & 34

I've promised to post some chapters every week from my new, upcoming International Thriller...Murmansk! Hope you enjoy this week's offering!

Available at a savings on pre-order now at Amazon, Kobo, iBooks, Smashwords, and Barnes and Noble (See links at the bottom)

Chapter 32
December 11. 2000

I stood on the plateau facing the weather, letting the biting wind blow stinging specks of ice and snow into my face. I needed the pain at that moment…I needed something to remind me I was still alive.
I had just gotten off of the phone with the Russian man, and had been told that we were being held for an additional ransom. When that ransom had been paid, they would release us and reunite us with Abby.
The only problem was…I didn’t believe him.
They had already lied once when they hadn’t released the girl for the money we brought on the plane.
Now we were supposed to hang tight until someone else ponied up even more money to be rescued?
“Shit!” I shouted frustratingly as I turned to make my way back to the shack. I had to check on Preacher, as well as see if I could find a flashlight.
The man had also said that the phone was blocked to any other numbers than his, but invited me to call him anytime! He had imparted that knowledge with a hearty laugh of course.
Before the man who called himself Ivan had hung up however, he had added that he had stashed some supplies for us to use one mile to the west.
Of course, he had supplemented, if you don’t claim them soon, they will be buried under a meter of snow.
Entering the shack, I went immediately to Preacher to check on him.
He looked like hell!
Pale as the moon, some of the sweat on his face was starting to freeze. My heart pounded in my chest at the sight of him. He had lost a lot of blood, a reality that I had apparently stopped by the looks of his bandage, but what else could I do?
Rubbing my hand on my forehead, I tried searching my memory for any useful information that I might have picked up over the years.
He needed more warmth.
I moved across the room and picked up the portable heater, moving it closer to his location. I also knew I needed to get him off of the cold, concrete floor.
But how?
One would think there would be some sort of bed available in a building like this, but I couldn’t find any. Maybe they had brought cots with them when they came and took them back with them when they left.
There were however, plenty of what we used to call space blankets…thin but supposedly highly insulated sheets made of a stiff plastic material.
Suddenly I remembered something I had seen outside. Rushing back out into the frigid blackness, I waited a moment to let my eyes acclimate to the darkness. Luckily, the stars overhead were enough to give off a small glow to the area.
Scanning the vicinity, my eyes finally caught sight of what I was after.
Frozen together, I had to kick them apart, freeing four of them before I started dragging them back to the building. Once I had them inside I started stacking them next to Preacher. Stacking two close to his head, I placed the other two by his feet. Finding four more blankets, I laid them over the pallets.
Now for the hard part!
“Hey buddy, I’m going to try and move you onto these pallets,” I mumbled to Preacher, “Hopefully without hurting you.”
Straddling his head and on my knees, I snaked my arms around his shoulders and through his arm pits…and heaved.
Barely moving his weight off of the floor, I slid him over a few inches only before I had to let him down.
I barely had the edge of one shoulder on the pallet!
Taking a short break, I reassessed.
I hated to do it, but he was too heavy for me to lift…I was going to have to roll him onto the pallets.
Kneeling in the middle of the pallet/bed, I reached forward and grabbed his belt in one hand and his good arm in the other.
Heaving back for all I was worth, we both grunted with the effort until I had his right hip and shoulder firmly on the edge of the pallet.
Moving to his legs, I lifted both of them onto the pallet as far as I could get them before moving back to the middle of the bed.
One more good pull should do it…maybe…
Clasping his belt in my left hand, I opted for his coat instead of his arm for my right so that I wouldn’t pull on his wound.
Letting out a loud yell, I pulled for all I was worth and finally got him rolled onto the pallets. Quickly checking his bandage, I couldn’t see where any fresh blood had erupted through the bandage. The extreme cold was probably helping him in that respect.
Catching my breath, I put some more blankets on top of him before going to look for a flashlight. Finding two that worked, I moved back toward Preacher, readying myself to go get the supplies.
Then another thought hit me…a very important thought.
Preacher had lost a lot of blood…he would need liquid to replenish his body.
Moving back into the laboratory area, I found the closest thing to a pan that we had…a large Pyrex beaker.
Heading outside again, I packed as much of the looser snow into the beaker that I could and brought it back into the hut. Setting it beside the portable stove, I hoped that it would melt before I got back. If not I would set it on top of the stove then.
Kneeling next to Preacher, I looked down on my unconscious friend, the guilt at getting him into this tugging at my soul.
“I’m sorry I got you into this old buddy,” I whispered, pulling his blankets over his head to conserve heat. “I’ll do my best to get you out of here.”
With that, I picked up my flashlights and made my way outside. Not knowing where in the world I really was, I looked to the sky, soon finding the little dipper…and then the North Star.
If I’m looking at the North Star, west should be to my left…I think.
Sighing in frustration, I turned toward what I assumed was west and looked ahead.
There was nothing to focus on!
There were no trees or mountains to use as guides…nothing to focus on so I could keep a straight path.
In the throes of certain failure, I still took that first step…and then the next.
In the end, it wouldn’t matter if I failed…we were dead if I couldn’t find the supplies and get them back here…and soon!

Chapter 33
December 11, 2000

You shot her?” Michael asked unbelievingly. “You hardly ever get in the field Patrick…how was it that you took the shot?”
McGruder shrugged, “I was down a man already, with only one operative left. I went in to help with the comms and to coordinate the evac. She surprised us while we were waiting for the chopper…shot my man between the eyes…we had rescued a young hostage…her gun was aimed at him…”
“I reacted,” he finally continued after a few moments.
“And you said you shot her in the head?”
McGruder shrugged again. “That I hit her in the head I have no doubt…that it was a kill shot I am now understandably unsure of.”
“Tell me about her,” Michael urged, his intense blue eyes wide with interest, “This woman you thought you ended.”
McGruder took a long sip of coffee before answering, seeming to gather the information in his mind that he had long ago filed away.
“Noon Byrk,” he finally uttered. “The coldest, most heartless woman I have ever had the misfortune to go up against.”
Sighing loudly, McGruder sat back in his seat to continue, resigned now to telling the whole story.
“Originally from Sweden, she was…or is of mixed origins…both Scandinavian and Asian. The combination gives her an odd…yet sexually appealing look that she would use to her advantage in her dealings with men.”
“And her dealings involved?” Michael questioned.
McGruder glanced at Michael, seeming somewhat surprised that he had spoken.
“Art theft…originally. Her standard modus operandi was to get close to rich men with big collections. Once ensconced in the household, she would study the ins and outs of the security…biding her time until she could make off with as many of the pieces as she felt she could move quickly.”
“But that changed?”
McGruder nodded, “Indeed. One day when she left with her paintings, she took one of the owner’s children with her.”
McGruder looked up at Michael again. “She found it was much easier to claim a ransom than to fence the art.”
Michael Montana nodded, his mind studying the situation.
“Where were you…when this happened?”
McGruder thought for a moment before answering. “Along the northeast tip of Norway…close to the village of Kiberg.”
“Where were your operatives when they were taken?” Michael continued.
“Unknown where they were actually taken, but they were on their way to Murmansk.”
“Right down the road from that part of Norway if memory serves,” Michael continued, deep in thought. “It’s another fact that conveniently points toward your chosen suspect.”
McGruder nodded. “There is one more fact that you should know about her.”
“What’s that?” Michael questioned distractedly.
“She almost always gets the ransom she demands…but historically…it’s only fifty/fifty whether you ever see the hostages again…alive anyway.”

Chapter 34
December 11, 2000

When Raven and Snake entered the kitchen an hour later, they found a concerned looking May with the phone to her ear as she wrote on a notepad.
“When?” she questioned before noting something on the pad.
“That’s good…thank you for calling Patrick…PLEASE keep me informed.”
Hanging up the phone with trembling hands, May turned to face her friends.
“They’ve been abducted,” she announced in a shaky voice, “They are mounting a rescue operation…”
Snake was instantly beside her as her legs started to give out.
“I’m here May,” Snake assured her, grasping her arm as Raven pulled one of the kitchen chairs behind her.
“Let her down in the chair,” Raven ordered softly as she grabbed the other arm to help ease her down.
Immediately Raven was on her knees in front of her friend, pulling her into a hug.
“I’ll get some water,” Snake uttered as he turned toward the sink.
Pulling away from May again, Raven caught her eye. “Tell us what you know May…we’re here to help.”
Nodding, May took a deep breath before speaking.
“Patrick called…someone over there has captured Gabe…captured them. They said they would release Gabe and the others as soon as Patrick presents himself to them…he is to give his life for theirs.”
“Son of a bitch,” Snake whispered unbelievingly.
Raven was also shaken up, pulling another kitchen chair over in front of May and setting down in it.
“He was very honest with me,” May continued then, “He said he will offer himself up to them…but he doesn’t believe they will honor their word. He has a plan though…another operative…a friend of his…”
May’s eyes moved to the floor as a sob escaped her lips.
Grasping May’s hand in hers, Raven tried to console her.
“It sounds like they are doing everything they can May…”
May’s eyes rose to meet her friend’s.
“I talked him into this,” she barely whispered, “If I hadn’t opened my mouth…”
“You can’t think like that!” Raven was on her knees again, gently holding May’s chin, their eyes locked on each other. “You know Gabe…You know he couldn’t pass up something like this! None of them could!”
May shook her head weakly. “I know you’re right…I know it. I just…I feel so helpless!”
“Did he say anything else May,” Snake asked quietly, “any other details?”
May shrugged, “Only that they are leaving tonight…and that he thinks it is someone from his past that has them…said she used to be an art thief…”
“Did he mention a name?” Snake interrupted immediately.
Nodding, May lifted the notepad from her lap. “A woman…he called her Noon…”
“Noon Byrk?” Snake gasped, “Is that the name he mentioned?”
May nodded.
“Shit!” Snake breathed before looking back at the women. “I need to use your phone.”
Not waiting for an answer, he strode across the kitchen and lifted the receiver, immediately dialing in a number.
“Snake?” Raven asked as he dialed.
Glancing over at her momentarily, his eyes then moved back to the buttons as he finished punching in the number.
“As you can imagine,” he started as he held the receiver to his ear, “The world of art thievery is rather small…smaller than you would expect.”
A voice on the line claimed his attention. “Is he in?”
Nodding at the reply, he moved his attention back to Raven and May.
“I have contacts all over the world…I’m pretty sure I can find someone that knows where she is.”
Raven smiled, “That’s fabulous!”
“Yeah, I’ll wait,” Snake uttered into the phone distractedly, his eyes moving back to the women in front of him.
“Finding her isn’t our biggest problem,” he said then, “In fact, that may be relatively simple.”
Raven caught the ominous undertone in his voice, glancing momentarily to May before turning back to him.
“What is our biggest problem then Snake?”
Averting his eyes to the floor for a few seconds, he finally raised them to confront the two women before him.

“Our biggest problem is that Noon Byrk is the most ruthless bitch I’ve ever come across.”

Copyright 2015 J.T. Lewis

Available for pre-order @ Smashwords
Available for pre-order @ Amazon
Available for pre-order @ Barnes and Noble
Available for pre-order @ Kobo
Available for pre-order @ iBooks

Quote of the day 6-26

What is Man? Man is a noisome bacillus whom Our Heavenly Father created because

he was disappointed in the monkey


Mark Twain

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Quote of the day 6-25

It’s not worth doing something unless someone, somewhere, would much rather you

weren’t doing it


Terry Pratchett

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Quote of the day 6-24

The season of failure is the best time for sowing the seeds of success

Paramahansa Yogananda

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Monday, June 22, 2015

Minute Mystery Monday ~ The Unknown Relation

A boy and his father are injured in a car accident. Both are taken to a hospital. The father dies upon arrival, but the boy lives and is taken to surgery. A grey-haired, bespectacled surgeon walks in, takes a look at the boy and says, "I cannot operate on this boy — he's my son."

How is this possible?

You can find the answer HERE!

Quote of the day 6-22

Lost time is never found again

Benjamin Franklin

Friday, June 19, 2015

Murmansk! Chapters 29, 30, & 31

I've promised to post some chapters every week from my new, upcoming International Thriller...Murmansk! Hope you enjoy this week's offering!

Available at a savings on pre-order now at Amazon, Kobo, iBooks, Smashwords, and Barnes and Noble (See links at the bottom)

Chapter 29
December 11, 2000

I shoved the hand full of gauze pads against Preacher’s shoulder and applied pressure.
“Hold on buddy, it went through and through, we just need to get the bleeding stopped.”
Preacher’s pain was evident in the film of sweat on his forehead, his breathing short and shallow. Wrapping his shoulder tightly with tape, I was relieved when I saw that it had seemed to slow the flow.
Luckily for both of us, Preacher had passed out from the pain of the alcohol when I poured it over his wound. That had allowed me to remove his coat and cut off his shirt without him feeling any additional pain.
An additional stroke of luck was the bullet going clear through the shoulder. As long as I could get the bleeding stopped and keep the wound clean, he should be ok until we got him to a hospital.
If we could get him to a hospital!
Covering him with several blankets, I went to check on the heating unit I had found and started earlier. I could see by the condensation showing at the bottom of the tank that we were about to run out of propane.
Dammit I whispered, angry at getting my friend into this…Angry at getting myself into this!
What was this anyway?
I had been mulling it over since my mind had snapped back to consciousness. Who would take all of the trouble to gas us on a plane, and dump us here in this apparently remote hut?
Looking at my surroundings, I sensed that it was some sort of scientific outpost. And since our original destination had been above the Arctic Circle, I could only assume that this was used to study some facet of the arctic environment…in the summertime!
Although it looked to be well-constructed and insulated, it was apparently not suitable to the environment we now found ourselves in…the arctic winter.
Feeling a chill, I reached down and picked up the parka I had discarded when I had been working on Preacher. Sinking my hands deep into the pockets for warmth, my right hand bumped into the phone…as well as the piece of paper I had shoved in there earlier.
Pulling out the now crumpled paper, I spread it out and read the neat, block lettering.

You will need to step outside to use this. Use speed dial 1.

Pulling the hood over my head, I walked out of the shack and onto the barren, snow-covered plateau outside. Distractedly, I realized that it was close to the first day of winter…the shortest day of the year.
But there had probably been no sun here today…we were already in the depths of arctic winter here.
Pulling the phone out of the parka’s pocket, I noticed it was a satellite phone. I had never used one of those before. Unfolding the antenna, I powered it up and waited for it to find a satellite when I heard a beep.
Looking down at the device, it told me that there was a picture message coming in. Clicking on the icon, the screen filled with the image of Abby, looking back over her shoulder toward the camera. It would appear that she was acting as some sort of server at some establishment, but that wasn’t the worst part of the picture.
The picture had been taken through what appeared to be the scope of a rifle…the crosshairs converging on her heart!
Punching the speed dial, I waited anxiously for someone to pick up, holding the phone to my ear, I could barely hear the ring tone over the biting wind beating at my face.
“Da?” A heavy, Russian voice finally answered rather smugly.
I waited a few seconds before I said anything, exerting I suppose the last vestiges of my failing rebellion.
“Ok,” I finally said into the phone, “You have my attention.”

Chapter 30
December 11, 2000
3:00 AM

Patrick McGruder held his brimmed hat to his head to keep it from flying off in the wash of the helicopter settling onto the landing pad.
Touching down, the rear door slid open and a duffle bag flew out of the opening, followed closely by a thin, dark-haired man. Leaning down to pick up the duffle, he waved over his shoulder as the helicopter lifted off again and turned back the way it had come.
As the noise faded into the background, the man pulled up in front of Patrick and offered his hand.
“Good to see you again Patrick.”
“Thank you for coming so quickly Montana,” McGruder responded while shaking the other man’s hand. “I have a bit of a dilemma I’m afraid.”
Michael Montana grinned, remembering McGruder’s penchant for always calling him by his last name.
Bringing his hand up to rest on McGruder’s shoulder, they made their way to the elevator. “It’s probably nothing we haven’t faced before old friend.”
“Possibly,” McGruder uttered as he pushed the button for his floor, “But a kidnapped girl, captured operatives and a demand to present myself to secure their freedom is at the very least…rare.”
Michael Montana whistled. “Yeah, that’s a five gallon bucket just packed full of shit!”
“Agreed,” McGruder replied soberly as the elevator doors opened. “Would you care for some coffee Montana?”
“Love some,” Michael responded as his eyes took in the massive computer power before him. “Still on the cutting edge of everything I see,” he added with a smile. “You always did like your toys!”
“I do indeed,” McGruder replied, allowing a small grin to cross his lips before taking his seat in one of the padded chairs. “Have a seat, we have much to discuss.”
Michael got comfortable in the leather chair, watching his host intently as he did. The older man’s face was starting to show its age, pain and fatigue now evident where it never had been before.
“The pain is getting worse I see,” Michael spoke softly to his old friend, “You know they do have drugs that will help with that.”
McGruder waved away his concern before picking up the carafe and pouring out two cups of coffee.
“Makes me feel wonky…You know as well as anyone that sharpness of mind is our biggest asset in this business.
Michael nodded silently, picking up his cup and taking a sip while watching his friend over the rim.
“Good coffee Patrick,” Michael replied after his sip, holding his cup in front of him and sniffing the aroma. “You’ll have to give me your secret.”
Patrick smiled, “I’ll email it to you…once we finish this project.”
If we finish this project you mean?”
Patrick shrugged, “Always a minor concern in this business I guess….if we finish the project then.”
“So bring me up to speed,” Michael prodded, “Who do they have and what’s your plan to get them back?”
McGruder leaned back in his seat. “The original kidnap victim is a little girl…ten years old…daughter of an old friend, Frank Rascoff. We have been doing business together for years.”
“And the operatives…anyone I know?”
McGruder shook his head, “No one you know Montana, they are new to the business. They’re a small group, but with incredible skills that I have been watching for quite some time.”
Michael didn’t seem convinced. “Not that I don’t trust your skills at attracting new talent Patrick, but with a bunch of newbies in the mix, this may be infinitely harder than you think to rectify.”
McGruder smiled through his pain. “They are newbies only to the extent that they now do work for me. I have the utmost confidence in the Celtic clan Montana. I can’t help but think they will be more a help than a hindrance in our efforts to get them back.”
“The Celtic clan…you mean like a family?” gasped. “You hired a whole family?”
“An extraordinary family Montana, one that I had no qualms about sending into the field.”
“Even though they got themselves captured in one of their first missions?” Michael continued, doubt still showing on his face.
McGruder met Michael’s stare squarely with one of his own. “However they were captured…I myself made all of the arrangements. It was a simple ransom exchange. What I could not know at the time was that someone was apparently gunning for me.”
Michael blew out a breath in resignation. “Ok, if someone were after you they would have had to be on their A game. Probably wouldn’t have mattered who your operatives were in that case…I can fly with that.”
Sitting forward in his seat, Michael rested his elbows on his knees as he prepared his next query.
“So, first question…do you have an idea of who it is that has come after you? And second question…do you have a plan to counteract this bad guy?”
“In answer to your second question,” McGruder replied seriously, “I have a rough idea, but wanted to tap into your expertise to fully develop it.”
Michael sat back in his seat, mulling over McGruder’s answer.
“Ok, no problem there, what about the first question?”
“I have had the computer develop a list of the most likely suspects. One sticks out above all of the rest as the doer.”
“So we go with that one as the leader of the opposition?” Michael questioned.
“Normally I would say yes in a heartbeat…except for one…minute detail.”
“What’s that?” Michael asked, leaning forward in his seat again. “What’s the tiny detail?”
McGruder also sat forward in his seat, locking eyes with Michael Montana.
“That detail, old friend, is that she was supposed to be dead…killed in 1998 as a matter of fact.”
“Maybe whoever exterminated her got it wrong,” Michael replied thoughtfully. “Who was it that supposedly killed her anyway?”
McGruder was silent for a few seconds before he responded.
“I did,” he finally answered, his eyes focused on Michael’s. “I shot her in the head and watched her fall from a hundred foot cliff into the Barents Sea.”

Chapter 31
December 11, 2000

Abby fell onto the cot, exhausted.
It had been one long night full or lecherous, old, two-fisted drunks…and it was only a Monday!
She couldn’t imagine what this place was like on a weekend…and she hoped she never had to find out.
The thought that she could be here that long moved her mind to worry.
Where was Gabe?
Why am I here?
Ya Su then entered her thoughts as she bit back a sudden and overwhelming sadness. This was the first real separation from her daughter since she had entered her life, and Abby’s heart was aching at the separation.
“I miss you Raven May Celtic,” she whispered as a tear made its way down her cheek. “I wish I were there with you right now…”


May watched the baby’s eyes slowly close. Soon the sucking on the bottle’s nipple also ceased. Gently pulling the bottle out of the baby’s mouth, May then laid her granddaughter on her towel-covered shoulder.
Patting lightly on the baby’s back, May rose from the chair and made her way to the crib. Waiting for the soft burp she knew had to come; she then lay Ya Su on her back and covered her with a couple of blankets.
As May then rested her hand on the baby’s belly, a small smile graced her lips.
Her eyes however, were a different story.
Worry had edged its way into them.
It was a worry formed not from any doubts about Gabe and Abby’s abilities…or even Preacher’s. What worried her most was the fact that she hadn’t heard from them since they had left.
May had been in on the planning of this mission, and knew that there was always the worry that cell phones wouldn’t always work in different countries. But she also knew Abby and Gabe.
Gabe was her best friend…her oldest friend. They were also newlyweds. On top of that, Abby was a new mother…a doting mother that hadn’t been away from her daughter for more than a few hours up to this point.
She knew they would find a way to call home…if they could…
Not only that, the mission should have been a cake walk. A simple exchange of money for the life of the hostage…they had estimated 8 hours at most on the ground.
May did the math in her head again…one more time…the thirtieth time that day.
The best-case scenario had been forty hours round trip…worst case…forty-eight.
It had now been sixty…and still no word.
Making her way back to the kitchen, May did a beeline for the phone. Lifting the receiver, she hesitated.
Her initial thought had been to call McGruder, but now she vacillated.
Why hadn’t he himself called?
Maybe he was in on whatever this was.
Could she trust him?
May sighed when that thought struck her. It had been her own words that had pushed the group to accept McGruder’s proposal after all. She had observed the man’s professionalism…felt his trust.
Was she so ready to dismiss her earlier feeling the first time something went wrong?
She hung up the phone again and moved to the counter to pour herself some tea.
Maybe she was overreacting. After all, McGruder’s operatives work for him in a professional and secretive capacity. As such, he was under no obligation to keep the families of those operatives advised on the status of an operation.
Still…she hadn’t heard from Gabe…and the project, while secretive, hadn’t been classified.
Setting down her cup, she once again stood and made her way to the phone. Punching in the memorized number, she waited anxiously for the other party to answer.
When they did, she had but two words to say.
“Gabe’s late.”

Copyright 2015 J.T. Lewis

Available for pre-order @ Smashwords
Available for pre-order @ Amazon
Available for pre-order @ Barnes and Noble
Available for pre-order @ Kobo
Available for pre-order @ iBooks

Quote of the day 6-19

The best things in life are unexpected - because there were no expectations

Eli Khamarov

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Quote of the day 6-18

The biggest communication problem is we do not listen to understand.

We listen to reply.




Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

A Little Bragging?...Maybe...

I just received my review from Reader's Favorite for The Book of Gabriel and I a word...Blown Away! :-)

Ok, I know that was two words, but it's not every day that one receives such high praise for one's work. Check out this AWESOME 5-Star review submitted by Rabia Tanveer!

Book Review
Reviewed by  for Readers' Favorite

In The Book of Gabriel by J.T. Lewis, Gabriel Celtic is back and this time he saves the world! Archaeologist Julien Taylor comes across some ancient scrolls during an expedition in present day Iraq. These scrolls are not ordinary scrolls; they predict the end of the world, but also mention the only man who can stop it. Gabriel Celtic. When Gabe learns about it from his old friend, he refuses to believe it, but all the signs point to him and he cannot deny his destiny. However, when Gabe and his family are attacked in their own home, he knows that he has to take some action and he needs to do it fast. He is forced to believe the prophecy and now he is fighting against the man who calls himself The Wolf. If he does not do anything, many innocent people can die. And if he does something, he puts his family at risk. What should he do when he is standing at an impasse? Is he strong enough to stop the monster before it destroys the world?

If you had asked me a few days ago who J.T. Lewis is, I would have said: who? Now, I don't know if I will ever forget this amazing writer. I don't know how I have not read the Gabriel Celtic series. As a first time reader, I have no complaints. Lewis tied the loose ends together pretty well and, even though I have not read the previous books in the series, I had no problems understanding the past references. As the characters are well developed and thoughtfully created, I loved them and understood them without any issues. Now I'm going to read the previous books in the series because if this book is so good, they are bound to be great as well.

Quote of the day 6-16

To live will be an awfully big adventure


Peter Pan


Monday, June 15, 2015

Minute Mystery Monday- The Man in The Mask!

Jim Bob is ready to go home, but he can't because there is a man in a mask blocking his way.

Who is that masked man and why won't he let Jim Bob go home?

Find the answer HERE!

Quote of the day 6-15

Pride is concerned with who is right. Humility is concerned with what is right.


Ezra Taft Benson


Friday, June 12, 2015

Murmansk! Chapters 26, 27, and 28

Every week or so I will be putting up an advance chapter or two of my newest International Thriller...

Murmansk! You can of course find the earlier chapters further down the page.The book should be

 published around July of this year!

Chapter 26
December 10, 2000

Something was wrong.
Worry etched on his features, McGruder clicked his way around his data center aimlessly, unable to sit even in the face of his advancing pain and exhaustion.
Savior was overdue to check in.
In point of fact, they should be well on their way back by now, but he had not heard from them since shortly after they took to the air yesterday.
Although he had been in communication with the pilot until just before they had landed, he too had now gone silent.
Adding to his worries, he had just gotten off of the phone with the charter company he had used for the jet. Although they wouldn’t admit that anything was wrong, McGruder could now sense the tension in the voice of his contact there.
“Such a simple mission,” McGruder mumbled to himself. “What the hell could have gone wrong?”
He gave a quick thought to contacting May Celtic to see if she had heard from Gabriel, but dismissed the thought immediately. If she hadn’t heard from him, it would only lead to more worry.
Right now, this was his worry alone, and he would keep it that way for as long as he could.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden buzzing in his pocket. Pulling out the secure cell phone, his heart dropped when he recognized the number.
Frank Rascoff…the girl’s father.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any news for you yet Frank,” McGruder spoke when he connected the call. “I should know something soon though.”
Silence greeted him for a few seconds before the other man spoke.
“I have received a text,” the other man finally uttered sadly; “They have taken your operatives.”
Shock coursed through McGruder’s veins, his exhaustion forgotten.
“What do they want now?” he asked immediately, his years of working in this field taking over his actions.
“They want you,” the man finally uttered, fear making his voice croak. “They have given you forty-eight hours to fly to Murmansk, or they will kill everyone!”

Chapter 27
December 10, 2000

I woke up shivering and in total blackness, feeling cold to my very core.
I could feel my foggy mind trying to make sense of the frigid darkness surrounding me with little success.
Someone moaned a few feet away.
Not thinking about any danger that may be lurking in the inky blackness, not thinking of much of anything really, I rolled onto my belly and started crawling toward the noise. Something rolled off my stomach when I turned over, but I let it lay where it fell as I made my way numbly toward the repeated moaning sound.
I jerked my hand back quickly when it brushed against something ahead of me on the floor. Sliding it slowly forward again, I stopped when the object again touched my hand.
Nothing happened when I touched it…no alarms sounded…no animals with snarling teeth attacked.
Since there had been no negative reaction, I started running my fingers up it, trying to identify what was blocking my path.
A shoe? Or more precisely…a boot.
I quickly found a leg attached to the boot and slowly moved toward what I assumed would be the head. A weak moan confirmed my hypothesis when I reached the top of the body.
Still reeling, my mind continued to refuse to wrap itself around any concrete thought. The body was alive however, of that much I was sure.
Sitting on the floor next to the body I closed my eyes and tried to think about my situation.
It was cold here, and dark.
The floor was concrete.
There was a man or woman on the concrete, lying there…apparently in pain…
My head buzzed suddenly, the pain causing me to wince.
I brought my hands to my head to try and hold in my brain…but after a minute, the pain subsided.
The Plane!
I remembered! We were riding in a jet…Preacher, Abby and I!
But then…something happened…
“What happened?” I mumbled aloud as I tried to muddle through my thoughts.
Moaning again.
“Preacher?” I called out into the darkness as recognition flamed in my mind. Rolling onto my knees, I crawled toward the noise. “Preacher…is that you?”
The answering moan confirmed it in my now marginally functioning mind. I moved my hand to his head and further confirmed his identity when I felt the eye patch. Probing gently, I used my fingers to try and identify any injuries, stopping at the wet spot on the shoulder.
“Shit!” I whispered when my fingers brushed through the sticky blood, my mind now on full alert.
“Hold on buddy,” I said as I turned and headed back to my original spot. I had remembered something rolling off of me when I had first moved.
Maybe it was a flashlight!
Whatever it was, it skittered away when my hand accidentally pushed it across the slick concrete. Cursing under my breath, I followed the noise and eventually found it again…but it wasn’t a flashlight.
It felt like a phone!
While I really needed a light at that moment, a phone is never a bad thing to have.
“Duh!” I called out to the empty room when I realized that the screen would put out at least some type of light. I started punching buttons to turn it on, only to find that it was wrapped in some sort of paper. Quickly ripping off the paper, I shoved it into my coat pocket before continuing my button-pushing session.
Finally it beeped! The display on the phone started scrolling through various screens as I stood up and looked around.
Even the small screen of the phone lit up my surroundings amazingly well. Immediately my eyes landed on a lantern hung from a pole across the room. Making my way there, I could see it was a propane-powered camp lantern.
But I needed matches!
As I started looking for something to light it with the screen on the phone went dark.
Hoping it had just timed out, I pushed a button on the face of the phone. The room was again lit in the eerie glow of the screen.
Pulling open doors and drawers in the cabinets surrounding me, I finally came across a box of large, wooden kitchen matches. Walking back to the lantern, I struck a match and inserted it into the glass as I turned the knob for the propane.
As the flame touched the cloth mantle, a sputter of blue flame took hold. As I watched intently, the glow grew brighter and brighter until I knew it was going to hold. Pushing the phone into my pocket, I started looking for any kind of medical supplies.
I finally spotted a large box hung on the wall sporting a green cross on its cover. Crossing the room quickly, I lifter the first aid kit off of its hangers and made my way back to Preacher.
“Hold on buddy,” I encouraged when I got back to where he lay. Setting down the kit, I leaned in and started slowly unzipping his coat and moving it aside.
Preacher moaned again just with me doing that!
I could now see the hole plainly in his shirt…the bullet hole.
Crap I thought to myself helplessly as I opened the case. It was an extensive first aid kit thankfully, designed for an installation with several people.
I doubt they ever had gunshots in mind when they designed it though.
Finding a bottle of alcohol, I removed it from the kit and unscrewed the cap. Noticing some tongue depressors, I pulled out four and stacked them together before leaning toward Preacher.
“I need you to bite down on this,” I explained as I held the stacked wood in front of his lips, “It’s gonna hurt like hell!”
Nodding slightly, Preacher opened his mouth and allowed me to set the wood crossways in his mouth before he clamped down on them weakly.
Here goes nothing, I breathed quietly before tipping the bottle.
The room suddenly filled with the loudest scream I have ever heard.

Chapter 28
December 10, 2000

Patrick McGruder was beside himself.
Part of it was with worry…about the girl…as well with his operatives.
Gabriel Celtic and his crew were caught up in something that they couldn’t have foreseen…hell, he hadn’t even seen it!
True, it was the nature of the beast…no one had ever said there wouldn’t be dangerous situations.
But this? On their first major project with him?
“I’ll be lucky to get them to work with me again,” he mumbled quietly.
Of course, that assumed that he would get them back at all…and that he himself lived.
But it wasn’t in his nature to give up in these types of situations. He had only lost one operative before, and that had been twenty years ago!
Since then, he had worked hard to keep it from happening again, vetting every facet of a pending operation himself at least three times.
So how had this project gone so awry?
Even now, he had his computers working on a solution…making a list of potential enemies that could have perpetrated this.
And he had made plenty of enemies over the years!
That too was the nature of the beast…he had put many evil people away…or eliminated them…but many had also gotten away.
Clicking across the room on his crutches, he stood in front of the monitor that was working away on his list. There were only two names listed so far. Studying them, he found the likelihood of either of these men throwing something this complex together unlikely.
Sighing, he moved back across the room and let himself tiredly into his padded chair. Reaching for a carafe, he filled a mug with coffee before picking it up and taking a sip. Whether it was the caffeine, or just the warm liquid itself, coffee always helped him think.
Struck with a sudden intriguing thought, he sat up straighter in his chair before calling across the room.
A single tone emanated from the nearest server, letting him know the system was awaiting his orders through the vocal interface.
“Modify current search.”
Again the server beeped in acknowledgement.
“Add these additional search parameters.”
Transferring his thoughts to the computer, he then asked it to proceed with the modified search.
It was an interesting concept that he had just conveyed to the computers, but one that he would be remiss to ignore.
His thoughts moved back to his impending trip. He had already made the arrangement for his flight, using a different charter company of course. But he would not just hand himself over to the enemy…not without some kind of fight. There was no guarantee that they would honor their deal anyway, even if he gave himself up freely.
Reaching for his phone, he punched in a number that he had long ago memorized. After the third ring, a familiar voice answered.
“Patrick McGruder! It’s been too long…how may I help you?”
Patrick couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s ever-present enthusiasm.
“I have an unusual…situation at hand my friend. Are you available to make your way here…quickly?”
There was a short pause in the conversation as his friend’s eidetic mind worked through his present schedule.
“Would four hours work?” the man on the line asked, “Five at the outset?”
“That would be ideal,” McGruder smiled. “I can pick you up at the normal spot?”
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll come in by chopper…save all of that time commuting back and forth from the airport.”
“Splendid,” McGruder grinned, “I’ll have the landing lights on for you.”
“I’ll see you then,” the man responded, “Thanks for calling.”
The line went immediately dead. Setting the phone down, Patrick McGruder felt better by a small measure. He always felt better when he was on the attack instead of just reacting.
Pulling himself up off of his chair, he once again made his way across the room to the monitor with the developing list. There were now five names listed, with the computer indicating it was still working.
Scanning down the names, McGruder’s eyes suddenly held on the last one.
A small smile crept across his lips as he reread the name again.
“Well this is certainly an unexpected surprise.”
Could this even be possible? He thought to himself. I thought for certain that this one was…dead!

 Copyright 2015 J.T. Lewis

Quote of the day 6-12

If you do not think about your future, you cannot have one

John Galsworthy

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Quote of the day 6-11

Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.

Ernest Hemingway

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

A Dangerous Brotherhood

A Dangerous Brotherhood
Lars Frank

Tucked away in an unsuspecting Scandinavian town lies a medieval castle. While that in and of itself is not that unusual in this ancient land of the Norsemen, what the walls hide from the world is the stuff of nightmares.

Ghouls do inhabit the structure to be sure, but not those created by fiction or conjured up in a child’s mind. These particular ghouls are merely men, who fancy themselves superior beings as they dabble in all manner of things untold.

For what these ancient walls hide is the secretive power of an ancient brotherhood…and what they control is…everything!

Copyright 2015 J.T. Lewis
(Excerpt from Murmansk, J.T. Lewis' international thriller due out in July, 2015

Quote of the day 6-9

The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.

Dr. Seuss