Category: Action/Thriller Publisher: Dog Ear Publishing
ISBN-10: 1457535726
Type: Fiction
Pages: 272
Copyright: May 1, 2015
ISBN-13: 9781457535727
It's kind of like Jason Bourne meets the Good Wife in the West Wing.
Successful, sexy attorney Nicole Charbonneau feels content with her life and career as a star at a powerful law firm in Washington, DC. She is blind, however, to the circumstances that will put her at the center of a web of deceit, murder, power plays and conspiracies. Across the ocean, British MI-6 Agent Sean Adkins is tracking a cold-blooded assassin known as the Serpent, who’s been hired to kill President Andrews. The Serpent cares only for the millions he’ll get, not why the powerful group of men wants Andrews killed.
The Serpent, a master of disguise, completes his job, but will it be his last? Sean will stop at nothing to get revenge, which includes setting a trap. Nicole, through her work and her connection with Robert Jenkins, a powerful young senator who happens to head the Intelligence Committee, pieces together who hired the assassin. Will the senator reveal to the public all he knows, or will revealing the identities of the powerful businessmen, politicians and government officials be too much for a country already in a fragile state?
Blind Influence, set in 1979 when the United States was on the brink of its second oil crisis, takes readers on a wild ride of political intrigue and personal discovery.
Excerpt
Paris, France
The alley was dark and littered with trash from the overflowing waste cans and with drunken, unconscious patrons of the saloon located at its end. The amber light, which seeped from the cracks in the door and boarded-up windows of the dilapidated building, provided enough light for passersby to avoid stepping on any undesirable objects. Noise from the saloon was muffled, but still audible, as it drifted down the alley to one of the many streets of Paris.
A man, whose face was still handsome though hiding the youth that had been beaten from him by the life he had chosen, prepared to tiptoe his way through the maze to the saloon door. His short dark hair blended with the misty night. The collar of his raincoat flipped up, its belt tightly securing the taut raincoat around his sinuous body to protect the clothes beneath it. He stood at the corner of the street and alley, surveying them both. Had he been followed? Who was waiting for him in that dark alley or in that raucous saloon? Did he have his gun loaded? He withdrew the firearm, a Beretta, checking it and his surroundings. It was now ready in case he needed it. He glanced up and down the main thoroughfare before sliding around the corner into the misty darkness of the alley, toward the amber light that betrayed the presence of some of the lowest life of Paris.
As he tiptoed to the door, he heard a screech. He didn't bother to look. He had heard those types of screeches before. It was a rat, something he despised intensely and saw far too often. It was beyond this well-educated, well-dressed man why Jacques preferred to squander his life in such vile places. In this man's estimation, Jacques was paid rather handsomely for his information.
Another screech caught the man's attention and pulled him from his thoughts. He paused as he waited to hear additional steps on the wet pavement. There were none, only the snorts and swat of a man awakened by the vile, dirty creature trying to steal a breadcrumb from the drunk's shirt. The man again started for the door of the saloon.
He reached the door and breathed a quick sigh of relief. Just before placing his hand on the doorknob to enter the raunchy establishment, he took in a very deep breath. He winced from the stench, which made him wish he hadn't done that. He opened the door slowly, trying not to attract any attention with swift movements. He entered the room cautiously but calmly. He stood momentarily in a darkened corner at the entry of the room, surveying it and all the chaos. No one was the least bit interested in him. The room was lit with sconces and lamps, all draped with red and orange chiffon-like material. The man wasn't sure what kind of effect the owner was going for, but he was quite sure he had walked into a badly reproduced opera. The amber light danced with the smoke created by just about any type of smoking device he could think of, all being used by various patrons of the bar. In one corner of the room was a very badly abused grand piano, which was annoyingly out of tune. Most of the patrons were around this piano, while a sloppily dressed overweight woman sang as if she were an opera diva, complete with fan and headdress, screeching a very bad rendition of the Casta Diva aria, which sprang from her heavily red lipstick-laden mouth. Like fingernails scratching down a chalkboard, the woman's attempt at singing grated on the man's nerves. As the shrill sound of a high note accosted the man's ears, he turned his head to see a darker area, far from the offending racket of the opera impersonators who, he surmised, were pretending to be performing at Covent Garden.
As the man reached the darkened corner booth, he untied his coat and slid onto the stained and tattered velvet bench, his back to the wall, facing the door to the saloon. His form seemed to disappear in the darkness, his hands seen only as he called the bartender over to the booth. He thought of ordering gin when the bartender arrived but somehow felt whiskey was more appropriate. He found that thought strangely odd, but it didn't matter anyway. He had no intention of drinking it.
Shortly after the bartender returned with his shot, a short Frenchman, complete with at least a three-day growth on his face and the body odor to match, slid into the bench across from the smartly dressed man. The Frenchman's smile wrinkled the skin around his eyes and revealed missing teeth.
"Monsieur Adkins," the Frenchman greeted the man, eyeing the shot of whiskey.
"Jacques." Adkins adjusted the collar of his coat as he watched Jacques begin to salivate. Jacques's eyes never strayed from the whiskey. "Consider it an advance," Sean Adkins added in his proper English accent, a stark conflict to Jacques's very common and broken English.
"Some advance!" Jacques retorted, grabbing the shot. "You no like whiskey
anyway." He threw his head back as he downed the shot.
Sean smiled. "What do you have for me?"
"I have some information on your blue-eyed friend, monsieur." Jacques paused as the bartender arrived to take a drink order from Jacques "Bring two more whiskeys," Jacques instructed the bartender.
"Bring the bottle," Sean corrected.
The bartender left to retrieve the bottle. "You are very good to me. That is why I work so hard for you, no?" Jacques said.
"You have been very helpful in the past. I've yet to hear what you have for
me today."
The bartender returned with the bottle. He set it on the marred table, placing a second shot glass in front of Sean. Jacques was still fondling the first glass. The bartender waited to be paid as Sean eyed Jacques and his nervousness. Jacques was almost too anxious for the drink, and this piqued Sean's curiosity.
"Monsieur, it is the policy—," the bartender began.
"Yes, I'm sorry." Sean pulled out some cash and peeled off a handsome amount of money to pay for the bottle and secure their privacy. "There is extra for you. I trust you won't bother us or remember…"
"I don't remember anything or anybody. It is how I stay alive," the bartender answered as he walked away.
Jacques grabbed the bottle and began to pour himself a shot, licking his lips. "You will be pleased with what I have for you," Jacques said and then downed the shot, wincing as the cheap alcohol burned his throat. He wiped his mouth on his dirty sleeve.
Sean watched as he poured his third drink. This behavior was very strange indeed. Although Jacques enjoyed the benefits of drinking, Sean had never considered him to be an alcoholic, and this behavior was that of an alcoholic or someone drinking to seek comfort from something terrible, something haunting. Had Sean's blue-eyed friend double-crossed his stoolie, his informant? Or was Jacques about to double-cross him? Sean confidently and covertly looked around the saloon. The very bad opera was continuing. No one seemed out of place. And yet Jacques threw his head back, wincing after his third shot of what Sean figured was close to grain alcohol. "Well?"
Professional Reviews
Review by Stacy of Whispering Stories
I was given a free copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review.
Blind Influence has something for everyone. There is suspense, action, cat and mouse chases, murders, investigations, back stabbing, mystery and much more.
It is set in a political world with the President, Vice President and Senator’s all having a role. The book switches between London and the USA. It immerses you in the politics of Washington DC, yet doesn't get so overly complicated that you won’t understand what is going on.
Nicole Charbonneau, the protagonist, is feisty, fearless, determined, wise and intelligent, mixed in with an air of sophistication and sexiness. She is a lawyer, a brilliant lawyer, tackling high profiled cases, but her luck changes when she witnesses the Serpent kill her friend Carol, she has seen his face and can place him at the scene, which makes her one of his targets, but she won’t be taken down easily, and certainly not without a fight.
Sean Adkins is an MI-6 agent tracking the deadly Serpent, to bring him to justice, not just for the people he’s about to kill but for his family who fell victim to him. His calling card is to fork the tongues of his victims, and he doesn't care who you are, male, female, young or old, if you’re on his radar there is little chance of survival. He’s ruthless and cold blooded, and every bone in his body is evil.
The plot is engrossing and gripping and totally nail biting in parts. It had me on the edge of my seat at various points in the story, yet I found it thoroughly entertaining. There are twists and turns throughout, and the story deviated numerous times from the path that I thought it was travelling on.
This is Linda’s début novel, though you wouldn't know from her writing. The book is powerful and hits you right from the first page. It sucks you in and holds you in its pages.
There are a lot of characters in the book and it is full of dialogue, which I feel is the only downside, but this doesn't take anything away from the amazing plot.
Blind Influence reminded me a lot of Robert Ludlum’s Jason Bourne novels, but in a more political and gritty manner.
The ending opens the book up for a sequel and I feel that there is a brilliant film waiting to be made from this novel.
If you love spy thrillers, you’ll love Blind Influence.
Great Read: Edge of my seat!
This was a great read that kept me on the edge of my seat all the way through. I found myself really interested in the fates of these characters and concerned how they were going to stay ahead of the assassin. The author really has a gift for plot development and really moved the plot forward well. Looking forward to more work from Linda Fisler, I suspect a sequel is in the works..
A real page turner!
Interwoven plots of international intrigue propel the storyline. Through all the twists and turns, the author uses solid dialogue and three-dimensional characters to keep the pages turning! There is a visual experience in the words that demonstrate her other talents. Linda is equal parts writer and artist – a rare combination that brings her story to life!
