I have my advance reader copies in PDF format for Deadly Liaisons.  I am offering an e-copy to the first five people who respond with their email address and agree to do an honest review in exchange.

To whet your appetite, here’s the first page:

October, 1938

Water ran over the top of Declan Cavanaugh’s shoes as he dashed across St. Mark’s Square in front of the Basilica. Two o’clock in the afternoon meant high tide this time of year in Venice. It wasn’t an ideal time to be chasing the flunky of a vampire through the streets to try to find the demon’s lair, but what was a man to do?

It was blind luck to stumble upon the short, gnomish creature in that Murano glass shop. Declan went in initially to purchase a new pen, but as soon as he laid eyes on the man he knew could lead him to his prey, all thoughts of a blue glass writing implement fled his mind. Making a lunge for the other man wasn’t the best plan, but Declan had been so stunned to see him, he hadn’t taken time to think through what he should do. He’d acted on instinct instead.

Declan regretted the loss of a portion of the shopkeeper’s inventory, but it couldn’t be helped. As soon as the smaller man noticed Declan, the wretched devil tossed a number of items at his pursuer to try to slow Declan’s progress. A few paperweights found their target. Declan’s head throbbed, but he kept moving. A bit of blood trickled down the side of his face. With each step, the pain in his cranium intensified. Thud, thud, thud.

When the flunky shoved the door open and ran into the street, Declan followed. Promising himself to return to the shop later to make things right with the owner, Declan kept up his pursuit.

At the rate the two men were running, staying on the boards the city’s fathers had devised to try to keep the citizens dry proved to be impossible.

Each time his foot slipped off the boards, splashes of water hit the hem of Declan’s pants and covered his brogans. Great, another pair of ruined shoes. A fleeting thought of gratitude for leaving the Italian suede shoes in his hotel room dashed across his brain. They were costly and the ones he wore would be easily replaced. A bright spot in the day for sure.

The gnome kept going. Declan wondered where the little man got his energy. For sure the shorter chap could move fast. Declan gasped for breath, but he couldn’t afford to slow down. He needed to find and capture Ambrose Schumacher.