Young Destiny Wilson disappears after winning big at the bingo hall; her car can't be found and the check hasn't been cashed. She's vanished without a clue or even a motive for kidknapping. Jesse Wilson, hires Tom Casey-- known as Hawkman--to find his daughter.

The deeper Hawkman digs, the closer he gets to the truth, causing nervousness among the bad guys. Not only is his life in danger, but also Jennifer--his pretty wife. Another woman is discovered missing, apparently taken before Destiny, and Hawkman feels the motive isn't what it seems--something much deeper is going on.

REVIEW

This reader/writer is a dedicated Bingo player, as well as a mystery fanatic, so when Betty Sullivan-LaPierre's new thriller, BLACKOUT, appeared in my inbox, I knew from the first page that I'd hit the Jackpot.

My intention had been to browse the first chapter, and then put the book aside for my weekend reading pleasure, but a desperate old man, a delightful little girl and the zany antics of a bunch of bingo buddies, sent my intentions flying right out the window.

In BLACKOUT, Hawkman, master of mystery and former CIA agent, sets out to find a missing mom and stumbles onto a plot so depraved and dangerous it nearly costs him the love of his life. BLACKOUT is a chilling thriller that'll tug your heartstrings and chill your marrow.

Number Five is a fabulous addition to the Hawkman Series. I loved it!

Reviewed by: Jude Morris, Author of the Indian Creek Texas Mysteries
www.bookswelove.net

EXCERPT

Hawkman shut down the computer, stretched his arms above his head then twisted his shoulders back and forth. Sitting in front of the monitor for hours at his office on a Sunday afternoon made him feel stiff all over.

His gaze shifted to the entry. He could have sworn he heard a soft knock. Tilting his head, he listened. Sure enough, it sounded again. He didn’t have any appointment scheduled for today, so who could this be?

Crossing the room, he grabbed the handle and threw open the door. He peered down at a small black child about five or six years old. Her big brown eyes twinkled under a mass of ebony ringlets framing her face. Clutching a rag doll in her arms, she stared up at him with a big smile exposing several gaps in her front teeth. “You must be Mr. Hawk Man. Grandpa said you had a boo boo on your eye.”

He stifled a grin and dropped to his haunches. “That’s right. What’s your name and what can I do for you?”

“I’m Amanda.” Then she turned and pointed down the stairs. “My Grandpa wants to talk to you, but he can’t get up here.”

“I guess I better go down there then,” Hawkman said, closing the door behind him and following the little girl.

She led him alongside the parking lot toward a large oak tree where a man as black as coal dust sat in a rickety wheelchair protected by the shade. Tufts of curly white hair stuck out from underneath his worn leather cowboy hat. He glanced up and grinned, holding out his hand as they approached. “Hawkman, you son of a gun, how come you don’t get no older?”

Hawkman grabbed the man’s hand with both of his. “Jesse, you old buzzard, where’ve you been keeping yourself? Haven’t seen you in ages. It’s good to see ya.” He then turned and patted the little girl’s shoulder. “How’d you come by such a pretty little granddaughter?”