Guest Author Jody Wallace Excerpt from THE WHOLE TRUTH

I’m so pleased to have my friend Jody Wallace here today with an excerpt from her new book THE WHOLE TRUTH.

Whole Truth - 600THE WHOLE TRUTH

(Book One of the Supercharged Files)
by Jody Wallace
Release Date: Early November 2013
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Length: Long Novel (100K+)
Rating: PG-13 (cussing, violence and sexxoring)
From: Meankitty Publishing
Cover: James at http://www.goonwrite.com/

Buy Links: AmazonSmashwords

A human lie detector is hired to unmask a mole but discovers her powers can’t protect her when even the bad guys are superpowered.

Cleopatra Giancarlo is different from your average twenty something career girl. For one thing, she knows when people lie because she can see the truth in their shadows. For another, she doesn’t use her power for good. Or evil. After repeated failures to help others, she mostly just uses it to get deals at Bloomingdale’s. She fears what the government would do if they discovered her ability, yet she longs to find out if there are people like her out there. If there’s anything more she could be.

She gets her wish when two strangers whisk her away from her old life and introduce her to the world of suprasensors. John Arlin and Samantha Grooms represent an organization called YuriCorp, one of many privately-owned firms that employ supras like Cleo to increase their profit margin. Any of these firms would be thrilled to have Cleo on staff, and their methods of recruitment aren’t always friendly.

But even in the world of supras, Cleo doesn’t get to be normal. Her new boss wants her to go undercover and seek traitors in the company ranks. Her new friends know what she can do and how to work around it. And her new assignment might end up with her in a coma–or worse.

**

And the excerpt:

Chapter 1
I see shadows. But not dead people.

When they found me, they weren’t ninjas, just garden-variety men in black. Excuse me, people in black. The frustrating part wasn’t that they invaded my home but that I should have been expecting it. After all, I’m the only person I’ve ever met who can do what I can do. Besides write advertising copy. Anybody can do that as long as they have a penchant for buzz words and hyperbole.

No, as far as I know, I’m the only freak like me in existence. I should have been ready for this to happen. I should have had a bag packed, with stylish travel wear and airline-friendly cosmetics.

But I didn’t. They caught me completely unaware. I’m stupid that way, even if I can discover any truth by asking the right questions.

I got home from another late night, after a normal week at work, if there is such a thing. I unlocked the door, cursed it when it stuck, and had almost kicked it shut when I noticed them.

A man and woman I’d never seen before were in my living room watching my newest indulgent purchase. Wait, technically that would be my new Kate Spade purse. While it’s sparkly, it doesn’t do any tricks worth staring at. They were watching my widescreen TV.

The man rose when he noticed me, as if he always stood when a female entered the room. He inhaled audibly but made no sudden moves.

Had I surprised their….illicit TV viewing?

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” I asked from the safety of the foyer. I would have taken off without asking questions, but they didn’t seem aggressive. I mean, they’d been absorbed in Andy Griffith.

The man’s lips parted slightly. Then he gave a sharp nod.

“Cleopatra Giancarlo?” he asked, smoothing the lapel of his expensive suit.

“Maybe.” I propped the door open with my toe, tensed to run. “Maybe not.”

“I see you were working late again, Miss Giancarlo,” he said.

“Working late isn’t a crime.” Unless you were a mobster or something. When the man didn’t respond, I continued.

“Who are you people?” Let them try to claim they were friends. Let them try to lie to me. I didn’t step away from the door.

The man glanced at the woman. She shrugged.

“My name is John Arlin. This is my partner, Samantha Graves. We’re happy to meet you, Miss Giancarlo.”

Their actual names, and they were honestly happy to meet me.

Samantha reclined against the arm of my sofa with my cat—my cat!—in her lap. I hoped Boris got hairballs all over her spiffy tweed.

She smiled at me. Her teeth were unnaturally white. “Shut the door,” she said. “You’re letting in mosquitoes.”

I backed onto the porch, only to notice a gigantic man in a dark suit step out of a vehicle at the curb. He was nearly twice as tall as the car. He waved.

Safer inside or outside?

Outside lurked their giant. Inside I could see their masks if they lied. I went in, closed the door, and held my keychain at the ready. I’d read somewhere you could stab people in the eyeball with your key to incapacitate them. Provided you had the guts to do so.

“Please don’t feel threatened. We just want to talk.” John adjusted a sleeve and glanced at his watch. His dark jacket parted to reveal a crisp white dress shirt and…

Did I see a holster?

“You’re in my house without my permission. I feel threatened.” I inched into the room, toward the phone, my cell having disappeared in the depths of my work satchel three days ago. I knew it was there because I could call myself. I just couldn’t find the damn thing.

“I apologize for that. Time has become critical, and it was expedient to meet you in private, instead of making an appointment.”

Was it true? I squinted, trying to detect the shadow that formed around the faces of any liars in my line of vision. No darkening. He was being honest.

It occurred to me that John and Samantha could be the people who wanted to buy the house from my landlord. The old coot threatened to sell the place out from under me every time I complained about the parking lot, if you could call a ten foot wide section of rubble a parking lot.

John continued. “Dinner’s in the fridge. Pastrami and jack on sourdough.”

Good guess…but the sandwich put him out of the running for home buyer. “You didn’t break into my house to talk sandwiches. Why are you here?”

“We have some information for you about an opportunity,” he said. “Will you hear us out?” He had yet to display a mask, the shadow veneer that appeared in front of a liar’s face, which did ease my nerves. That didn’t mean I was going to let my guard down.

“Cut the solicitous crap. What do you want? My television?” I doubted it, because their car outside wasn’t big enough to transport it, but bravado seemed smarter than fear. “Take it, I have renter’s insurance.”

He stepped closer, and I became aware of the fact he was tall, not to mention built. I was short. Could I key-poke his eye or not? More like his throat. Wasn’t the spot between your collarbones vulnerable? I patted my non-key-holding hand against my breastbone to check, my heavy work satchel thumping my hip.

John picked up my cordless telephone from the bookcase next to the couch and extended it to me. “The minute we make you nervous, dial the police.”

“I’m nervous right now.” I pressed various areas on my throat to test which was most stickable. Nervous people did that, protected their throats, or their boobs. I guess they were protecting their hearts, not their boobs.

“Sorry.” He tilted his head down. “Would you prefer to eat first? You must be hungry. We got the sandwich from Mazio’s.”

How could they know my favorite eatery was a dive three blocks down on the east end?

***************************************************************************************************************

jodywJody Wallace grew up in the South in a very rural area. She went to school a long time and ended up with a Master’s Degree in Creative Writing. Her resume includes college English instructor, technical documents editor, market analyst, web designer, and general all around pain in the butt. One of her many alter egos is “The Grammar Wench”, which should give you an indication of her character. She is a terrible packrat and likes to amass vintage clothing, books, Asian-inspired kitchenware, gnomes, and other items that threaten to force her family out of the house. She also likes cats. A lot. (VS sez: That’s a good thing since she is the owner of the legendary Meankitty!!!)

Ms. Wallace’s approach to writing is to tell as many outlandish lies as she can get her readers to swallow. Her dream is to be moderately well-paid for this service. You can also find several of her books under the pen name Ellie Marvel.

Advertisements

Jody Wallace & MeanKitty “Cattify” Priestess of the Nile!

I’ve been honored today to have the famous MeanKitty perform “cattification” on my novel – enjoy!

The Story

Drawn to her abandoned temple on the banks of the Nile by an enchanting odor like tuna and cheese combined, Pretty-Kitty the Cattian goddess is even more cat-tivated by the sight of the can opener herself…and her TWO opposable thumbs. Appearing to the human as an absolutely divine housecat, Pretty-Kitty learns the human is Mewys, a descendant of her last can-opening priestess. Though filled with hunger, Pretty-Kitty believes Mewys deserves to be more than just a can opener. Perhaps even…a back scratcher. Or a best spot on the couch butt warmer. Or perhaps even a door opener/closer/opener/closer. But the rules that govern the Cattian pantheon forbid anything beyond a food-oriented relationship between a Great One and a human.

Mewys is attracted to the incredibly beautiful housecat, who arouses devotion in her that no human or animal ever has. Especially those perfect little white paws and long, elegant whiskers. But with a limited number of cheese cubes and no hope of ever leaving her village to get more, she dares not dream of a relationship once the cheese and tuna are gone—or love.

Pretty-Kitty takes every opportunity to visit Mewys and snarf up the chow, taxing her resolve to make Mewys to stick to preparing fish. And when she jumps into Mewys’s lap, their mutual desire to pet and be petted must be sated. But can love between a human and a Great One survive the ultimate test of the evil crocodogs?

Chapter One:

The old abandoned temple with the awesome sunspots remained one of her favorite places along the Nile, overlooking the river from a small bluff, with a deserted beach below. Pretty-Kitty (the prettiest Cattien Goddess) stood gazing across the disgustingly wet water at bronze- and black-spotted evil crocodogs panting in the final rays of the setting sun. A breathtaking mix of colors stained the sky as a lesser Cattien Goddess, Nuit, spread her cloak across the heavens, sprinkling the black velvet with star-like laser pointer dots.

A tantalizing odor rose from the beach below the bluff. Pretty-Kitty recognized the scent of a familiar cat treat, tuna, given new meaning by the hypnotizing addition of cheeeeeeeeese.

 Pretty-Kitty licked her lips. I must see the source of this odor. It’s cast some kind of spell over me.

She strolled along the path from the ruins toward the beach. After pausing to chase a leaf, lick her butt and take a quick nap, she took the last turn on the trail and walked out on the sand to find the source of the odor. It was a human woman. She waded in the water, casting a small fishing net and retrieving it, every once in a while picking out a wriggling silver fish and throwing it into a waiting basket on the beach.

Her opposable thumbs flashed into view when she raised her hands. She had kilted her skirt to her thighs, revealing legs that would show claw marks well. Long ebony hair practically made for attacking was caught behind her ears with combs in the shape of seashells.

Wouldn’t I like to take those combs out and see her hair tumble down—so I could leap on it?

Pretty-Kitty must have made some sound. The woman stopped catching fish and wheeled, taking an involuntary step deeper into the river at the sight of Pretty-Kitty’s 8 lbs of magnificence. Her face paled under her tan and her eyes opened wide as she staggered, caught by an eddy of the current.

“Meow. Mrow!” Pretty-Kitty licked one paw, claws out, and purred. “Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

The woman laid one hand on her throat, toying with an amulet on a thong that would be better served as a chasing-string. “You startled me, kitty.” Poised to bolt, the woman appeared wary, probably planning an attempt to run past Pretty-Kitty.

“Mew?” Pretty-Kitty kicked sand off a back foot and ambled to the basket of fish for a sniff. The net drifted lazily in a whirlpool; the human reached out and caught it, lifting the tangled strands from the river.

“Oh, I see! You want some fine tuna, kitty.” She came to the bank hastily and emptied the net into the basket. “The river runs muddy at this time of the year. Some of these fish might not taste good until I filet them and add the cheese.”

Pretty-Kitty glanced at the fish. Oh yes, I can see they aren’t yet suited for a noblecat. She followed the woman to the prep area, well out of reach since the clumsy two-legger splashed through tiny waves with her net. “Mrah. Meow.”

While waiting for the woman to clean her a fish, Pretty-Kitty frowned at the Nile crocodogs lying deceptively immobile on the opposite bank, then glanced at the human. “Hissssss.”

One of the animals twitched. Pretty-Kitty glared at it. The creature met her eyes for a second, a strand of gross drool hanging from its mouth, then settled onto the sand.

“Oh, I’m not afraid. I’m protected.” The human was busy folding the net and packing it into a compartment in the lid of her fish creel. She didn’t even spare a moment to consider the stinky canine predators across the water.

Pretty-Kitty hacked up a hairball to cover her instinctive laugh. “Hork, hork, hork.” SPLORCH.

The two-legger stood briskly, raised her chin and tugged the amulet free of her dress. It was a small green stone crocodog hanging on a frayed black leather thong. “My great-grandmother was the last can-opening priestess of the temple on the bluff above.”

Pretty-Kitty’s whiskers twitched. She wanted the amulet. “Meow?”

The girl unlooped the cord from her neck and dangled it up and down. “Great-Grandmother told me the amulet was blessed by the Crocodog God himself and would protect me from the creatures.”

Crocodog’s blessing was as reliable as the idiot himself, which is to say, not. Nor was that his temple, as his temple was more of a small structure in a back yard with a peaked roof and… Okay, it was a doghouse. Had Great-Grandmother already been senile when she’d told everyone she’d been a can opener for that mutt Crocodog?

Pretty-Kitty batted at the amulet, whacking the tiny figurine with her perfect, white paw. “Mew.” She momentarily hooked the pendant in her claws, then ceased to acknowledge its existence.

When the human refastened the amulet, the stone pendant fell between her nap-worthy breasts. She unkilted her skirts and the simple dress fell to her ankles. As she bent to lift her basket of fish, Pretty-Kitty put a paw hand atop her fingers on the handle. She gave Pretty-Kitty a wide-eyed glance but stepped aside to let her sniff the fish some more.

“Take your time, kitty. I’m going to sit in the shade and eat my dinner now.” She pointed at the nearby grove of palms. “Would you care to join me?”

“Meow!”

She peeked back at Pretty-Kitty while she walked. Eventually she smiled shyly. “I’m grateful for the company. My name is Mewys.” She stood nearly as tall as a tree, unusual in a female, but Pretty-Kitty found it distinctly attractive. That meant the two-legger could reach more stuff. Her face was lovely, a little feline and browned by the sun, which set off her sparkling black eyes. She was all soft curves made for laying upon and smooth skin made for kneading—Pretty-Kitty’s paws stirred with eagerness but she restrained herself.

She seems to be an innocent maiden, with no dog smell despite her stupid reliance on Crocodog’s amulet, of good family by her educated speech, not a woman to be lightly trifled with for an afternoon. Pretty-Kitty should snag a fish and leave, but….

She realized she was standing rooted to one spot without even inspecting the fish, lost in admiration of what the woman’s lap would feel like. Shaking her head, she started sniffing again. “Mewwwwww.”

“You are very choosy for a cat who has come to this place, which is known more for the Crocodog God.” Mewys slanted a look at her sideways and chuckled. “Is your person a merchant? Is your ship anchored somewhere nearby?” Not waiting for an answer, she sank bonelessly under the tallest palm. Lifting a shawl that lay draped there across some wicker hampers, she pulled out a hard roll filled with meat and cheese.

Ahhhhh. So that was the source of the odor. Pretty-Kitty deserted the stinking fish creel on the sand and found a spot to sit safely in the shade. She lowered herself into sitting position and sharpened her claws on the tree, tail whipping around behind her. The meat on that roll smelled much better than the raw fish! “Purrrrrrrrrr.”

Mewys blinked and raised her eyebrows, clearly not understanding. What did you expect from a human who wore a Crocodog necklace? Pretty-Kitty hadn’t precisely demanded the meat off the roll, but it appeared she might have to.

“Did you come to see the temple ruins?” Mewys asked.

Pretty-Kitty crouched and readied herself. The pounce took her as far as she needed to go–right onto Mewys’s lunch.

VS sez you can find Jody Wallace, author of the recently released Pack & Coven from Carina Press,  at her website or on twitter at @jodywallace