Monday, February 2, 2015

Guest Author Lisa Buie-Collard and Prizes

Today we have author Lisa Buie-Collard of the mystery thriller book, The Seventh Man. Read all about it and where to find it, and then check out the cool mystery riddle she left us. Can you figure out what it is?

author Lisa Buie-Collard

     When a young writer is kidnapped by a man who can't be seen, her only hope of escape rests on the one London cop who believes in ghosts.
On a cold, white, before-Christmas day, an assassin completes a job only to be pursued by police. Dodging through crowded city streets, the assassin nabs a young woman for cover.
Celia Wight, a reclusive American writer is shopping between engagements during a book tour. When a knife is pressed against her back, she loses her tenuous grasp on her carefully controlled existence.
Assigned to the homicide case, Detective Alban Thain, of the Metropolitan Police, suspects an assassin he calls the Wraith. The problem is, only Thain believes the assassin exists. Disregarding the consequences, Thain, who is the only one who believes there is a connection between the murder and the kidnapping, will do whatever it takes to exploit the Wraith’s first and only mistake: the kidnapping of an innocent bystander—if she is innocent. 

About author Lisa Buie-Collard:
I am a writer, mother, wife, sister, and daughter. I’ve been a server, dental assistant, teacher, journalist, and gardener. I love to travel and speak French. I’m from north Florida, but now abide in Georgia. I write full time and have completed six novels. Writing is life, life is writing…

Where to find the author:

I Love To Fly (Can You Guess What I Am?)

I love to fly. Even if there is constantly an element of trust that I must always count on, I will never give up flying. Sometimes flying is harder than other times. Sometimes I can only get a few feet off the ground. But mostly I can fly higher than treetops. I can soar; the only sound is air rushing by my ears. My eyes love the view. My skin loves the wind. My breath loves wicking away with the air flow over my face.
Sometimes I hate landing. When it’s hard and bumpy and parts of me break off, I cry until I’m fixed. Sometimes I land by softly falling into outstretched hands, gentle and always happy to hold me. I prefer those landings.
I am a simple being of simple desires and ideas. I am not grandiose. I am not flamboyant or made of odd and exciting angles, though I know of those who are. I am distinct and useful. I provide hours of entertainment while doing what I love best. I seem to please whomever I am partnered with all over the world, and have for quite some time. I am loved. I never cease to amuse and test limits.
Then comes a time when I sit for years, unused, seemingly forgotten, and it is at this time I am sad, defeated, wondering if my trust and faith will be acknowledged or rewarded.
But it always is. There always comes a moment when darkness turns to light, when kind hands repair and strengthen me, when daylight bursts upon my senses and I excel in that first long awaited jump into the air. I then breathe. I spread myself as far as my perfectly formed body can extend and I laugh, I soar, I dive, I live with every filament of my being. To my utter and profound satisfaction, that is the instant I truly grasp the greatness of happiness.
I love to fly.

Win! Win! Win!


1 comment:

Lisa said...

Ha ha Cynthia! I love what you did with the images! You rock girl!!! I hope someone tries to guess the riddle...

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