The Lost Child
by Thomas Grant Bruso
GENRE: Contemporary Crime/Thriller
Buy link: Publisher
Newspaper reporter Luke Sorenson has recently moved to a new town
in upstate New York. Despite the change in scenery, Luke cannot run away from a
brutal, harrowing past driven by the death of his only child, Emily.
Soon,
Luke is propelled into a dangerous case of child abduction, an eerie reminder
of losing his daughter. An eight-year-old boy named Daniel Hadley is kidnapped
from his own bedroom and it is Luke, battling his own demons, who is assigned
the story of the year.
As
pieces of Luke’s mysterious, violent past are revealed, so are the sinister
secrets to his daughter’s demise, sending Luke into a tailspin of heavy
drinking and self-torment.
The
search for Daniel is on, but it may be too late for everyone involved.
Excerpt
Two:
Chapter One
One year later
Eight-year-old Daniel Thompson Hadley, a boy who dreams of
becoming a NASCAR champ someday, pedals down Olive Way on his new birthday
bicycle.
A light September wind ruffles his sandy-brown hair. Six
houses down, his mother and father watch from the stoop of their Victorian
home, eyes intent on the erratic movement of their only child.
“Not too far,” Penny Hadley warns him over the rim of her
tea mug.
Peter looks down at his wife and whispers softly, “He’s
fine. Let him be a kid.”
She tugs the collar of her winter coat closed as if it will
keep her warm from the chill and gazes up at the sky. “It’s getting dark.”
Peter tucks his hands into his pants pockets, slightly put
off. “Let him enjoy his new wheels, Pen.”
She scoffs at her husband’s remark. “Daniel. Daniel Hadley.
Come back right now,” she calls.
But young Daniel does not hear his mother’s voice. By this
time, he is at the end of the unlit street, hidden in the shadows of the
Jettisons’ ash tree. The elderly couple, close friends of the Hadleys, sit on
their porch swing beneath a yolk-yellow light. Betty busies her fingers
knitting Wendell a cozy afghan. Wendell sips his usual nightcap: scotch on the
rocks.
“Did you hear your mom and dad, Daniel?” Mrs. Jettison calls
out.
Wendell touches her arm, shaking his head. “Don’t bother.
Kids will be kids.”
“Wendell, please. It gets dark sooner these nights.” She
grips the arm of the swing and heaves herself to her feet. She stumbles, crying
in mild pain against arthritis in her knees and legs. She ambles over to the
edge of the wraparound porch. “You hear me, Daniel? Your mother and father said
not too far.”
The young boy turns his eyes up to the raspy voice of his
neighbor in a you-are-not-my-parent stare. He continues across the neighbors’
unkempt lawns, strewn with late fall leaves, to the adjacent apartment
complexes a few houses down.
He wheels along, whistling against a windy night, in
astonishment at his newborn freedom. The gears of his bicycle rattle around the
corner, fading down the street.
Penny feels a pinprick of tears at the corners of her eyes
as she races down the street, tea sloshing over the rim of her mug. Peter can’t
catch up. Not after his triple bypass surgery five months ago. He follows a few
feet behind his wife, wheezing, blathering obscenities under his breath. The
heat of his sweat-glossed face stops him from running.
“Daniel!” Trembling, he fingers beads of sweat out of his
eyes.
The Jettisons stare down at the sidewalk as Penny and Peter
pass the house in a moonlit blur.
Tense with frustration, Penny glances up at the couple,
scared-looking, panting. “Did you see Daniel?”
Mr. Jettison mumbles something Penny can’t quite hear. His
wife points a finger down the street. “I think he went that way, dear.”
The stricken mother yields at the end of Palmer Street and
Olive Way and gazes around the neighborhood she has called home for the last
eight years. Daniel is nowhere in sight.
She runs into the middle of the four-way intersection, looks
behind cars and in neighbors’ front yards. She stands on her tiptoes to see
over the tops of hedgerows and crouches to peek behind rhododendrons and
quinces. Daniel is known to carry his hide-and-seek games too far, she knows.
Tonight, though, is different. Her exasperated breath and beating heart tell
her something is wrong.
She kneads the side of her neck. “Daniel!” Ugly images of a
lost child invade her thoughts.
Peter pants closely behind her like an obedient dog. His
unsteady hand skims the top of her shoulder. “Where is Danny? Where’s my son?”
He peers around frantically, calling out for Daniel.
The panicked expression on Penny’s sour face and the
discomforting rhythm of her voice tells him she doesn’t have an answer.
The sudden sound of a thrumming bicycle chain stirs the air,
and Daniel appears around the corner. And the bold escapee knows, as he pedals
closer toward his parents, noticing their scared wide eyes, that he has
frightened them. He knows he is in big trouble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GIVEAWAY
Thomas Grant Bruso will be awarding a
$10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the
tour.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Thomas Grant
Bruso knew he wanted to be a writer at an early age. He has been a voracious
reader of genre fiction since childhood.
His literary
inspirations are Ray Bradbury, Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Jim Grimsley, Karin
Fossum, and Joyce Carol Oates.
Bruso loves
animals, reading books, and writing fiction, and prefers Sudoku to crossword
puzzles.
In another
life, he was a freelance writer and wrote for magazines and newspapers. In
college, he won the Hermon H. Doh Sonnet Competition. Now, he writes and
publishes fiction and reviews books for his hometown newspaper, The
Press-Republican.
He lives in
upstate New York.
Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/thomgrantbruso?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Eauthor
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thomasgrantbrusoauthor/?hl=en
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8591689.Thomas_Grant_Bruso
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/thomasgrantbruso/
9 comments:
Thanks for featuring my latest novel! And to all the readers: Happy reading!
Thank you for hosting today!
What's the best part about being an author?
Good afternoon, what are some of your favorite crime thriller book or TV series?
Hi, Traciem. Great question! The best part of being an author (for me) is creating places I'd like to visit. In "The Lost Child," the newspaper world was a solid part of my twenties, a long ago when I used to write as a freelance writer. So, I got to incorporate that life again from Luke Sorensen's tenacious POV. Another excellent quality I reap from writing is entertaining people through the power of words and story-building. If you read the book, the characters will stay with you, as they did for me after all these years. Thanks for your question.
I look forward to reading this.
The excerpt sounds a little chilling, especially with what's to come.
Hi, Sherry! Thanks for your comment and support. Happy reading!
Hi, Kim. The Lost Child is a roller coaster ride full of twists, turns, and conclusions you will not see coming. I hope you get a chance to read it.
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