VBT - Mindbenders 2: Under The Radar by Ted Krever
Mindbenders 2: Under The Radar
(with a video introduction)
To see the book cover for Mindbenders 2: Under The Radar and the video interview with Ted Krever, please visit Sandy's Spotlight.
Welcome to the first stop on the Mindbenders 2: Under The Radar virtual blog tour!
I have to tell you that I'm super psyched about the release of Mindbenders 2. I've recently read and reviewed Mindbenders and couldn't put it down. Click here to see my review and get purchase link. It's currently on sale for .99!
Mindbenders 2: Under The Radar is scheduled for release in February 2013, and I can't wait to get my hands on it! Mr. Krever was kind enough to provide a video interview to tell you about this new paranormal (psychic ability), thriller, suspense novel in his own words. Sit back and enjoy the interview and excerpt.
Excerpt for Mindbenders 2: Under The Radar:
The Man Who Didn’t Die
Diemerpark, Ijburg, the Netherlands
De Jogt made for the ice, weaving among the black stone, aluminum and glass apartment buildings, pulling his collar tight against the wind. An early cold snap had frozen the bay end to end. Only the Dutch would build a city in the middle of an inland sea. But now that frigid landscape offered an insane, inviting escape route.
The goons weren’t far behind. De Jogt was a scientist, not an action hero—the fact that he’d thought of jumping from a second-story window into a trash bin and darting away through the shadows was as amazing as the fact that he’d pulled it off. The idea of capture, of imprisonment, roused the animal in any creature that understood it—whatever skills he possessed, De Jogt was rallying to the cause.
The company had a ‘red alert’ phone number—just call and Security would arrive in minutes. But his cell signal had disappeared at the same moment as the lights in the house. That had been the tipoff, the shivery indicator that had him at the back window when the scratching began at the front door. The good die young—the paranoid survive, De Jogt thought, ducking between thorn bushes and the few ancient elms this modern city hadn’t disrupted.
He was puffing already. He wouldn’t outrun any serious opponent. It was possible this was just a burglar. A burglar might want his watch, credit cards, laptop—nothing shattering. And if he really was pursued, the ice would even the odds—neither of them would be quick.
He skirted a toolshed and stepped onto the slippery surface. His shoes scraped against the ice as he pushed as hard as he could for the far bank. The lights were ten or fifteen minutes away, if he didn’t fall. There would be a pay phone there, a police station, a bar with witnesses, something.
A moment later, another benefit of the river became apparent—he and his pursuers would all be out in the open. But what he saw in the open gave him no comfort at all.
His pursuer was no burglar, that was certain on first glimpse. No burglar, no mugger, no amateur. Very fit, encased in a dark jumpsuit (Black? Blue? It was too dark to tell), a pair of very sophisticated night-vision goggles and what looked like a serious pistol (with silencer?) at his hip. But why was it still tucked away?
The only answer that made sense—that they wanted him, not valuables—was no surprise. De Jogt had seen it coming the day before. Yet still, it chilled him to the bone. He tried the cell again but it was dead. Well, not quite dead—it came on but made no connection.
He ran harder, which didn’t mean much faster. He slipped and scrambled over a hard high patch of ice onto a section milled by a hundred gleeful schoolchildren in skates. He saw to his chagrin that the ice wasn’t the leveler he’d hoped for—the jumpsuit was gaining on him rapidly while a second had emerged from the houses ahead, moving quickly on a trajectory that would easily cut off his escape.
He had to make a decision. De Jogt threw the switch on his belt and gave the mechanism a few seconds to charge. He felt the air around him tingle; his hair stood on end. He pointed ahead and below the first jumpsuit and squeezed together the wires in his palm. The surge ran through his forearm; he felt the searing in his fingers. A moment later, the ice split in front of the jumpsuit and he dropped into the icy water, splashing and coughing.
De Jogt turned and continued as fast as he could toward the other side. The jumpsuit’s cries tapered off as he faded into the distance. Glancing over his shoulder, De Jogt realized he was not going to shake his other pursuer—this one was even younger, fitter and closing the gap quickly. He would surely cut him off in less than a minute. No, De Jogt thought, snapping into the scientist’s dispassionate regimen of weighing options, if I’m to get away, I have to cut him off.
He maintained his course and even let himself slip a bit more than necessary. And soon the kidnapper—for surely, that’s what he was—was in his face, offering a menacing gaze and reaching for his gun.
De Jogt didn’t give him the chance. He raised his hand, pointed the index finger directly at the man’s chest and let go.
Continued at http://tedkrever.com/manwho1.html