{"product_id":"2940013456525","title":"Devil's Parody","description":"The second book in the exciting Nick Thomas Mystery Series pits Nick and ex-SEAL friend Ray against a demented millionaire recluse in a secluded mountain estate in the deep woods of Vermont.\u003cbr\u003e  Lured by a five million dollar prize, six carefully chosen high-stakes gamblers are trapped by their own greed and find themselves playing against each other for their lives in a deadly game of chance. People begin to disappear as maniacal sociopath, Sebastian Black, plays at his own twisted game. The rules of the game were simple. If you win you get to walk away with the big payoff, but if you lose...you could die. One of the six was Skyler Todd, Nick's soulmate Chris' uncle and only living relative.  That where Nick comes in, white horse and all.\u003cbr\u003eHere's an excerpt from the beginning of Devil's Parody:\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003ePROLOGUE\u003cbr\u003e  Everyone knew it was too late for words. The cards had been dealt; the stakes were set and the consequences known. Chance had waited for this moment all his miserable life—it was all or nothing, the ultimate high, the game of games. It was the dream, or more appropriately, the sealed fate of the consummate gambler. \u003cbr\u003e  The young woman next to him sucked in a short breath. Chance looked over at her again as if to ask her blessing and she just shook her head as he turned the gun slowly away from Sebastian and pointed it toward himself. The end of the barrel loomed like a big black hole, an abyss with the power of death waiting patiently to be called upon with a mere squeeze of the finger. \u003cbr\u003e  The woman, whom he had slept with, cried out for him to stop, pleading, but she seemed like she was far away in some long, dark tunnel and he paid her no mind. He brought the gun up to the side of his head, pressed it hard into the skin on his temple, and held it there for what seemed like an eternity. His hand began to shake, and sweat ran down his forehead as he held his breath—one long, sweet breath that he knew could be his last. \u003cbr\u003e  Then he yelled, wide-eyed, piercing the heavy air with a scream that came from the depths of hell as he closed his eyes and tightened his finger on the trigger. They all watched in paralyzing horror as the hammer fell with precision upon the waiting cylinder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNick\u003cbr\u003e  It was a breezy April afternoon and I was up on my deck looking out over my kingdom, which was Cape Cod Bay at Provincetown Harbor. I was slouched contentedly in my Adirondack chair, bare feet up on the railing, with a hot mug of coffee and some drafts of the new book I was working on. I’d stopped red-penning for a moment, and watched some fool try to navigate a small sailboat through the swirling wind and choppy water in the bay with very little success. Not that I could’ve done any better—a sailor I’m not. \u003cbr\u003e  April is the start of nice spring weather and my deck up on the roof was where I went for solitude and serenity. I’m Nick Thomas. I’m forty-ish, which I’m told is the new 25. I’m a moderately successful mystery writer who lives in a cottage on the beach. I drive a temperamental old MG, have and adore a vintage Harley Police Special, and have a very diverse love of music. My blue jeans seem to be shrinking and my hair is getting gray around the temples, but I’m happy with life. I’m also a recovering alcoholic. I tell you that up front, because it’s a fact I’m proud of.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  However, it seems that every time I try to settle back and enjoy the life I’ve worked so hard for, or attempt to write that serious Pulitzer Prize winning novel that is rolling around inside my head, something happens. \u003cbr\u003e  Most people call it bad luck; some call it fate, and the adjusted few call it life. I’ve come to believe that there is a reason for all that happens, and that there is a master plan that we may never be privy to and don’t really need to understand. However, I really hate it when life rears its ugly head and messes with my happy little world. There are days that I think I’d love to write the script for my own life. At least I think I would, but God doesn’t allow us that luxury. Someone told me once that life is what happens while we’re busy making other plans. Isn’t that the truth?\u003cbr\u003eThat's when Chris called and said Skyler was missing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat's all you get for free. Now buy this book and become a part of the Nick Thomas experience. You won't be sorry.","brand":"Tom Rieber","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47181166149872,"sku":"2940013456525","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013456525_p0.jpg?v=1763581486","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013456525","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}