Cynthia Vespia, "The
Original Cyn," has a background as a certified personal trainer; licensed
private security guard; award winning video editor, and graphic designer. But
the creative outlet of novel writing has always remained her first love.
Today Cynthia continues to
write character driven suspense and fantasy novels. With a plot pace to stir
the adrenaline and keep the pages turning, Cyn likes to refer to her novels as
"Real life situations that you could find yourself in but hope to God you
never do." In her spare time she enjoys reading, movies that involve a
strong plot/characters, and keeping active through various forms of martial
arts and fitness.
Find out more at:
www.CynthiaVespia.com
www.Facebook.com/authorcynthiavespia
www.twitter.com/cynfulcharm
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Cynthia-Vespia/e/B002CAWFQ8/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1382265998&sr=8-1
BLURB for Lucky Sevens:
Luca “Lucky”
Lucazi is a man who lives for the job, until the job starts to threaten his
life. A former Navy Seal, Lucky is ideal as the head of security for Lucky
Sevens Casino. But when major names at the casino start falling victim to
deadly and suspicious "accidents" Lucky must fight his way through a
cast of eccentric characters only Las Vegas could spawn, and his own battle
with alcoholism, before his lover Brooklyn - the sweet-hearted stripper -
becomes the next victim. But when Lucky faces off with illusionist Christopher
King, endowed with real magic powers, will his luck finally run out?
Excerpt from Lucky Sevens:
Predict, prevent and
protect. The same words he’d learned as a Navy SEAL bled over into his job as
head of security very well. But as Luca “Lucky” Luchazi stared down at the body
of his friend and former mentor Charles Vega he didn’t feel as though he’d
honored those words at all.
More than a dozen police
vehicles converged on the scene. The black and whites of Las Vegas Metro were
scattered everywhere. Their flashing light bars washed everything in red
drowning out the mix of neon colors that came from the casinos neighboring
Lucky Sevens.
Charles had come to Vegas in
its infancy and built his empire from scratch. Even while the others came
crashing down to make way for the new mega resorts with their elaborate designs
and theme park style attractions, Lucky Sevens remained standing as one of the
last legendary casinos on The Strip.
Lucky had always admired the
old man for remaining true to his ideals even when the casino was taking a
pounding in the pocket book. Now he was nothing more than a sack of meat
splattered all over the sidewalk.
Personnel from the county
coroner's office had also responded to the scene, but not soon enough. The
vision of good old Charlie lying with his robe open exposing his wobbly bits to
the world, and lying in a pool of his own blood, would haunt Lucky for the rest
of his days. Even now as they draped him in plastic and wrapped him up tight
for his last ride all Lucky could see was the blood. He’d witnessed his fair
share of death during war but this time it was different. This was Charlie.
He’d been like a second father to Lucky ever since he set foot in sin city. So
when he overheard two Metro officers disrespecting Charles’ death with their
blown out theories Lucky set them straight.
“Hey ease up,” Lucky said
walking in between the two officers. “I never thought you were the type to
spread gossip, Mel.”
Lucky had known Mel Harrison
for many years. They'd done favors for each other multiple times. Harrison was
the only guy on Metro that Lucky held any respect for. He'd always assumed the
feeling had been mutual.
“Sorry Lucky, I know how
much Charlie meant to you.” Harrison motioned to his partner. “Get the coroner
over here to finish up.”
Harrison put a reassuring
hand on Lucky's shoulder and the two officers went on about their business.
Lucky let them walk. He let them scrape Charles Vega off the sidewalk like road
kill. He just stood there as a blast of hot wind rolled in off the desert and
struck him like a blow dryer on high speed.
Damn weather had turned on a
dime. What were they calling it? El Nino? Something Spanish – go figure. Name
somewhat brought to mind hot sand beaches and girls in Brazilian cut thongs.
There would be questions
about Charlie's death, inquiries, maybe accusations but then they’d put
everything to bed wrapped in a nice little bow. To the police, the papers, and
the tourists (who even now posed for pictures in front of a real life Las Vegas
crime scene) it would all be dusted off as just another gambling related
suicide.
For Lucky the question would
gnaw at his insides for eternity.
How could he have let this
happen?
Participating Blogs
November 18: fundinmental
November 19: It's Raining Books
November 19: Room With Books
November 20: Long and Short Reviews
November 21: fuonlyknew
November 22: Unabridged Andra
November 22: Deal Sharing Aunt
November 25: The Cerebral Writer
November 26: Corey's Book Reviews
November 26: The Write to Read
November 27: Worlds of Possibilities
November 27: Kit 'N Kabookle
November 28: Musings and Ramblings
November 29: My Odd Little World
November 29: Welcome to My World of Dreams
November 19: It's Raining Books
November 19: Room With Books
November 20: Long and Short Reviews
November 21: fuonlyknew
November 22: Unabridged Andra
November 22: Deal Sharing Aunt
November 25: The Cerebral Writer
November 26: Corey's Book Reviews
November 26: The Write to Read
November 27: Worlds of Possibilities
November 27: Kit 'N Kabookle
November 28: Musings and Ramblings
November 29: My Odd Little World
November 29: Welcome to My World of Dreams
