The Bishop

Suspense Magazine has just named The Bishop one of its Books of the Year for 2010.

Take a look at this excerpt from The Bishop to find out why!

For your chance to win a free copy of The Bishop, scroll down to the bottom of the excerpt.

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Craig opened the screen door and rapped on the wooden one. “Mr Styles.” He made sure he called loud enough so that anyone in the house would be able to hear. “Sir, open the door. It’s the police.”
“Is that him?” the man inside the house shouted. “That the guy you’ve been –“
“Stop it!” Her voice was shrill, frantic, filled with fear. “Get away from me!”
Craig shouted, louder this time. “Mr. Styles, open the door!”
The man: “Put that down, you-“
Craig Walker unsnapped the leather holster holding his weapon and gave one final warning. “Open the door or we’re coming in!”
The man: “Gimme that thing.”
“Stop!”
And then.
A shotgun blast.
Splitting open the night.
Craig yelled for Trevor to cover the back of the house, cover it now! But then the words were mist and memory and he was only aware of the doorknob in one hand and the familiar feel of his Glock in the other as he threw open the door and swung his gun in front of him.
Stepped inside.
No overhead light, one lamp in the corner. A smouldering fireplace. A plaid couch, a green recliner.
And a woman on the other side of the room, trembling, shaking. A Stoeger 12-guage over-under shotgun in her hands.
Craig levelled his weapon at her. “Put down the gun!”
A man was lying on the floor six feet from her, his chest soaked with blood, his feet twitching sporadically. He coughed and then tried to speak, but the words were garbled and moist and Craig knew what that meant.
“Ma’am! Put down the shotgun!” Craig had never drawn on a woman before and felt his hands shake slightly.
She wore a pink housecoat. Her face was smeared with tears. She did not lower the gun.
“He was gonna kill me.” They were frantic, breathless words. “I know he was this time – he said he was gonna kill me.”
The man on the floor sputtered something unintelligible and then stopped making sounds altogether.
Where’s Trevor!
“Put it on the floor, Mrs. Styles. Slowly. Do it now.”
At last, staring at the man she’d shot, she began to lower the shotgun. He hit me. He was gonna kill me.”
“Okay,” Craig said, “now set down the gun.”
She bent over , a shiver running through her. “This wasn’t the first time.” She let the gun slip from her hands. It dropped with an uneven thud onto the brown, threadbare carpet. “He liked to hit me. He said he was gonna kill me this time. I know…” Her words seemed to come from someplace far away. Shock. Already washing through her.
“Ma’am, you need to step away from the gun.”
“The gun went off.” She stood slowly. “ I didn’t want to hurt him, but it just went off.” She took two unsteady steps backward.
“Is there anyone else in the house?”
She shook her head.
As she backed up, Craig, weapon still drawn, carefully approached the gunshot victim to see if the man still had a pulse.
But as he bent down, the woman shrieked and he glanced at her for a fraction of a second, only that much – a tiny instant- but that was all it took.
By the time he’d looked back at the body, the man had rolled toward the shotgun, snatched it from the floor, and aimed it at his chest.
And fired.
The impact of the bird shot sent Craig reeling, tumbling against the couch. He tried to raise his hand to fire his own weapon, but his arm wouldn’t obey. The room dimmed, and for one thin moment he was aware of all of his dreams and memories, running together, merging, collecting, descending into one final regret for all the things that he would leave forever undone.
And then, all of his thoughts folded in on themselves, dropping into a deep and final oblivion, and Officer Craig Walker crumpled motionless and dead onto the tattered carpet beside the plaid sofa in Philip and Jeanne Styles’s living room.

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To celebrate the success of the The Bishop, we have three free copies to giveaway. The first three people who send us the titles of two other books in the Bowers Files series with their postal address to bpg@lionhudson.com will receive a copy of The Bishop. If you need a clue, click here