30th Anniversary of the 1994 Delta Ice Storm Edition
Thriller
Date Published: January 26, 2024
ISBN: 978-1958011096
Publisher: Hustle Valley Press, LLC
“Gritting, unexpected, and hard to put down.” – Midwest Book
Review
Rook’s on the run in the most dangerous storm in decades. When a brush with the law goes from bad to worse, can she escape druggies, crazies, and killers?
Abandoned by her now-ex-boyfriend at a dive bar in the middle of nowhere, the last thing resilient Rook Kellum needs is the local sheriff confiscating her I.D. when one phone call could expose her true identity and the reason she is on the run from the law. So when she’s trapped by a deadly ice storm that destroys the Mississippi Delta, the twenty-year-old fugitive has a plan: get everyone drunk, steal back her license (and a madman’s car), and get the hell out of town.
It is only when Rook escapes to a secluded cabin does she discover she isn’t the only one in need of rescue. As she fights her way out of one disaster just to get pounded with another, will Rook live to see the light of day?
One Icy Night is Taylor Adam’s No Exit meets Rachel Hawkins’s The Wife Upstairs.
About the Author
W. A. Pepper writes suspenseful thrillers. You Will Know Vengeance was his award-winning debut novel. He is a USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and Amazon Bestselling Author for his contribution to the business anthology Habits of Success. Under different names, (and his real one of Will Pepper) he has published in multiple academic journals, interactive e-books, anthologies, and online.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, he and his wife Taddy (plus their dog Danger), started the publishing house Hustle Valley Press, LLC. Through it, they published four e-books that have amassed over one hundred five-star reviews. Further, the husband-and-wife team donated the first six months of revenue from the sale of each of those books to charity; this resulted in thousands of dollars raised for the reader-selected charities that support racial equality, COVID-19 relief, veteran affairs, and St. Jude Children’s Hospital.
He has a PhD in Management Information Systems or, as he calls it, Business Computing, from The University of Mississippi. He enjoys coffee, bourbon, snow skiing, Star Wars, comic books, and reading and watching thrillers. Finally, he, his wife Taddy, and their dog Danger split their time between Mississippi and Colorado.
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Where the River Ends
in its gurgling sprint
toward the sea
this river into which
I empty love’s ashes—
indeed like many others
before me—
makes no fuss
no cries of complaint
the sediments and muck
of human sorrow
are all the same
to be deposited into
wider arms
deeper depths
dispersed and dispelled
© Neetu Malik
by Kidd Wadsworth
I’d been invited to a posh dinner to honor director Martin Scorsese. I decided to drive to ‘The City.’ My friend recommended that I take the Lincoln Tunnel. Twilight found me approaching the entrance; I glanced at my gas gauge.
I was young and naive, but I wasn’t worried. “Those New Yorkers are smart,” I said to myself. “I bet they’ve built a gas station right at the entrance of the tunnel.”
Nope, no gas station.
But I wasn’t worried. “Those New Yorkers are smart,” I said to myself, “I bet that tunnel is wide with room on both sides to pull over if you run out of gas.”
Nope, earthworms build wider tunnels.
I may have prayed.
I made it through, wheels still turning, spark plugs still firing. “No need to worry,” I thought. “With all these cars there must be tons of gas stations on the isle of Manhattan.”
Nope.
I looked and looked all the way to the hotel where the dinner was being held. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the valets. I knew they could help me.
“Hi, do you happen to know where I can find a gas station?”
The valet rubbed his chin. He looked at the ceiling. Then he yelled over to his bud. “Hey, Rodrigo you know where this lady can find some gas?”
“Dude, I ain’t got no car.”
The valet promised he’d have an address for me when I came back for my truck.
The event was fantastic, lots of stories, great food. As my first introduction to The City, I was impressed. When the dinner ended, I thanked my host and took the elevator to P1, the parking garage.
Yes, my wonderful valet had an address. I drove through dark streets—one eye on the gas gauge—until I found a line of cars waiting to fill-up at the world’s smallest gas station. I had to do a seventeen point turn to get my truck next to the pump. I breathed a sigh of relief. Never have I been so glad to see my gas gauge read FULL.
I asked the attendant. “How do get back to the Lincoln Tunnel?” Half a page of directions later—remember this was before GPS—I headed across The City. It was 2 AM and I was a bit confused. Wasn’t this the city that never slept? And here I was on a very famous street, Broadway, and everything was so quiet.
Until . . .
I came to this place as bright as day. I’ve never seen so many lights—and people, and noise, and guys working on the sewer system in the middle of the night—and I wasn’t moving, not an inch. You see, it was me, in my bright, blue pickup truck and 10,000 yellow cabbies! Those cabbies weren’t giving me any room.
I tried to be polite. Eventually, I realized I was southern in name only. If truth be told very few battles of the Civil War were fought in Texas. Texans aren’t really southern, we’re Texan, and that’s a whole different breed. For example, southerners pride themselves on being polite. Texans respect gall. I looked at those pathetically small cabbies. Then I looked at my BIG, bright, blue pickup truck. The Texan in me figured I had the right of way. I took my foot off the brake.
What do you know? Those New Yorkers are mighty smart. Why they let me pass. Such nice folks.
I left the lights behind still looking for the tunnel. Once more, and only once more, I gave those New Yorkers the benefit of the doubt. “I bet they have a great big sign pointing to the entrance of the Lincoln Tunnel.” (Just so you know, in Texas the signs are HUGE.)
Nope, they had this little sign two feet off the ground with one bulb illuminating painfully small letters: Lincoln Tunnel –>
Really?
Yes, I made it home, but I realized something. When I go to a foreign country, I’ve gotta know the rules. I can’t assume stuff like—where there are cars, there are gas stations.
So, I asked myself, what would I tell a New Yorker going to Texas?
Here are the things you need to know.
Denise M. Colby loves to write words that encourage, enrich, and engage whether it’s in her blog, social media, magazine articles, or devotions. With over 20+ years’ experience in marketing, she enjoys using her skills to help other authors.
She treasures the written word and the messages that can be conveyed when certain words are strung together. She, being an avid journal writer, is often seen with a pen and notepad whenever she reads God’s word. Denise is writing her first Christian Historical Romance Series, and you can find her at www.denisemcolby.com
Denise is a member of OCRW, Faith, Hope & Love Christian Writers, ACFW (where she was a semi-finalist in the Genesis contest Historical Romance Category), OC Chapter of ACFW, and Novel Academy.
You can read Denise’s column The Writing Journey on A Slice of Orange, or follow her on Facebook or Instagram. You can also sign-up for her newsletter.
Big news for Denise!
In November of 2023, she won the grand prize in the Scrivenings Press #GetPubbed writing contest. Her novel. When Plans Go Awry, is scheduled to be published on June 4, 2024. You can read all about it: From Aspiring to Contracted.
Winter. Lifeless, asleep, dead. All is gone. Lost. Until the last frost melts away. A sprig peeks up through the earth and winks at the sky. Buds and flowers appear bearing gifts of fruitfulness. Year after year, spring arrives; ever the same, dependable, faithful. Life renews. Time passes. Distance separates. But vibrant colors burst through the faded tapestry of memories. Friendship. Never-ending, never-waning. Ever alive.
Veronica Jorge
See you next time on February 22nd!
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