Plenty by Kelly K. Lavender
Fifty Shades of Suspense
Published: June 16, 2015
Can an intense, dark, gritty Thriller be both suspenseful and meaningful? Yes, Plenty, the noir challenge to Fifty, proves the point. In Prosperity Texas, charm begins at the county line–miles of white picket fences dotted with flourishes of bluebonnets, the smell of thriving honeysuckle and a storybook-like town park resplendent with roses, a pond bridge and ducks. Yet, plenty of problems plague Prosperity–political corruption, an influx of illegal drugs, road rage, theft, prostitution and pornography–all of which suits longtime Sheriff Gordon Griffin. All runs according to plan until two women, Camille, a nineteen-year-old naïve wayward young adult, and her recently widowed friend, Jennifer, become threats, to his profit centers of crime. What can two downtrodden women do to rid a tortured town of its misogynistic Machiavellian sheriff and malevolent mayor? Plenty.
Plenty, inspired by Fifty Shades fury, the popular sex kitten-for-a-sadist romance series, and Hunger Games awe captivates as spine-tingling suspense about the risky yet all-important road to self-actualization and happiness. Plenty holds special appeal for resilient, smart, resourceful women who rescue themselves and the men who love them. Plenty infused with spice, a lot of naughty-never nice. Not for the faint of heart or those seeking a slow sleepy time story. Plenty jets along at a jolting James Bond pace.
Excerpt: Chapter 1 Cataclysm
The mesquite brush partially hid his presence. Standing armed, barefoot, and shirtless in the morning sun, he gazed east at the expanse of freeway that stretched in front of him. His ball cap did little to block the sun’s glare. When he raised his left hand to add more shade, his TAC-338A shifted, prompting a smile. A playful touch from a lover not more inviting. He stroked the gun like a wanton man caressing a woman’s curves. His dilated blue eyes, jittery hands, and jerky movements contrasted with the green camo pants of a serious hunter—his fully aroused body in jarring juxtaposition with the assigned task.
“Guns are like art. How can you not like guns?” he questioned rhetorically.
With guns, I can buy the best for my boy Ben. I’ve failed to give him my best as a dad. Got to quit the drugs, the booze, leave the life and the job. Got to try again. Got to do that for him. He deserves better than me. Taking a moment, he cast his eyes down and grimaced.
The morning sun warmed his fingers and glinted off his diamond rings. “Nope, can’t have sparkle,” he muttered aloud as he leaned his weapon against his late-model Toyota Corolla.
With a few pulls, he removed the jewelry, opened the car door and placed it carefully in the console next to his flask. His fingers fluttered then lighted on the flask as a butterfly might flitter then settle on a flower. His eyes darted left and right as if he expected a slap on the hand before he tipped the container. After a quick glance at his watch, he cozied up to a bush near his car and peed on a flowering plant that managed to stretch toward the life-giving sun. Taking a moment to reflect after he zipped his fly, he reached into his front pocket for the wadded tissue used yesterday to wipe his bloody nose, a post-soiree necessity after indulging his insatiable appetite for blow. After one quick swipe to clear his nose, he dropped the tissue and stomped on it, enraged. Being a coke addict not what he’d planned for his life—but then again, neither was contract- killing specialist.
He grabbed his bipod and his rifle, gasping as if burned, before he cuddled his treasure to lie prone on the ground. Deeper breaths escaped his lips as he looked through his new $2,000 scope. The highway lay within range, just four hundred yards away. The brush provided perfect cover for his car and him. His target would be unmistakable—an old blue Ford truck, speckled with Bondo, pulling a flatbed. A scheduled drop would make the task easy. Purvis—too sloppy, too addicted, too stupid to be valuable . . . anymore. Nestling into a spot, the hit man grinned and sighted his gun on the highway in full view. He grimaced for a moment as he realized his hands still trembled.
I’m a little shaky, but I can hit a moving truck. After all, that’s what hit men do.
Plenty by Kelly K. Lavender
* Other Books by Author *
Beautiful Evil Winter
Fifty Shades of Suspense, Book 1
Kelly’s fascination with fiction began in middle school when she entered a book-reading contest and won. As an ardent fan of the resonating narrative and the cliffhanger, she decided to dedicate herself to becoming a skilled writer. When college professors spotlighted her writing in the classroom, it anchored her interest in becoming a novelist.
After earning a business degree, she continued to pursue her education at UCLA, via the UCLA Writers’ Extension Program, where her work earned praise from an Award-Winning Author. A rickety project trip to Russia, to adopt a baby boy, provided the inspiration for her debut novel, Beautiful Evil Winter.
Plenty, my second novel, also earned distinction as a DAN POYNTER’S 2016 GLOBAL EBOOK AWARD BRONZE MEDALIST-FICTION SUSPENSE.
Beautiful Evil Winter
Writers’ League of Texas
UCLA Writers’ Extension Program