Monday, October 29, 2018

"Times Up, Afton" by Brent Jones

Times Up, Afton
(Afton Morrison Book 4)
by Brent Jones

Times Up, Afton (Afton Morrison Book 4)  by Brent Jones

Author Brent Jones stops by today to share an excerpt from his latest book, Time’s Up, Afton. This is the fourth and final book in his Afton Morrison serial thriller. Also available: Go Home, Afton (read my blog post), See You Soon, Afton (read my blog post), Nice Try, Afton (read my blog post), and The Afton Morrison Series (Books 1-4).

For more books by this author, please check out my blog post on The Fifteenth of June and my blog post on Fender.

Some secrets stay buried for a lifetime, but nothing lasts forever.
Connected to a number of high-profile deaths, Afton finds herself not only under scrutiny from the chief of police, but damned in the court of public opinion, as well.
In the aftermath of the fiery assault on Wakefield, a low-level gang has infiltrated the town, flooding its streets with bad drugs, killing several teenagers. As Afton prepares for the final showdown with her tormentor, she marks each gang member as a target for elimination, in a methodical plan to gain the upper hand. What follows is a race against the clock that will keep readers guessing until the very last page, as Afton risks life and limb to fulfill her murderous mission of doing good in the world.
Time’s Up, Afton is the fourth and final part in a new serial thriller by author Brent Jones. Packed with grit and action, the Afton Morrison series delves into a world of moral ambiguity, delivering audiences an unlikely heroine in the form of a disturbed vigilante murderess.

Just as I began to cross the room, there was a crackling sound, and it came from the radio Banks had clipped on his shoulder. I stared down at it, not moving an inch, dreading whatever transmission might come. It would be some member of law enforcement, announcing his imminent arrival. Coming up the stairs, perhaps. To my surprise, however, it was him. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that?” After having seen his face, the voice sounded out of place, a total mismatch to his haggard exterior. “I mean, my God, Afton. So much needless killing, and you were supposed to be the good twin. But don’t kid yourself, not even for a moment. This isn’t over. You’ll pay dearly for this. I swear on Clara’s name, I’ll make you pay.”
I thought about grabbing the radio to fire back a response. I wasn’t scared of him. Not anymore. But not now. There was no time.
I crossed the room and tugged down on the cord, drawing the blinds up to the ceiling. I hoisted up the window, the only window in this apartment that had no screen behind it. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, if I’d missed some important detail. I tried to play it out in my head, over and over again. Warwick shot Banks, then after an argument, the unknown man shot Warwick with his own gun, and in the chaos of it all, I managed to get my hands on the service weapon Banks had been carrying. At seeing me armed, the unknown man fled. Clara and the surgeon tried to tackle me, and that’s when I shot them. Both of them, shot fucking dead. No, no, not tackle me. They—I approached the short table of surgical instruments and knocked a pair of scalpels to the floor—tried to stab me, and that’s when I shot them.
Did that version of events make sense? Screeching tires rounded the corner and tore down the street, which jolted me to a simple conclusion: This version had to work. I didn’t have time to invent another story.
I held the gun out into the morning sky and discharged the four shots in Clara’s chest. Pop-pop-pop-pop! And the three shots lodged inside the surgeon. Pop-pop-pop!
There was more to do, yet I hesitated, watching Animus stand over the surgeon’s lifeless body, grinning and humming a dissonant tune to herself. She prodded at the gaping crimson holes in his chest with one hand and beckoned me with the other. “Come . . . play, Afton.”
The smell of all the wet blood transfixed my senses, thick and metallic, fresh and spread across the floor. It was impossible to tell where one rich pool ended and the next began. My hands trembled at the sight of it. My heart hammered and raced and skipped beats. My whole body was moist with perspiration. Think, Afton, think!
I tossed the service weapon to the floor and yanked down the window. I dropped the blinds and raced to the bedroom, where I found an old towel in the closet. I used it to pick up the hatchet and Chris’s handgun, and rolled them together. I had to stash them somewhere, come back for them later, and hope that they wouldn’t be found by investigators in the meantime.
I shot out the door and up the stairwell toward a locked door. It wasn’t accessing the roof I was interested in, however. It was the concrete blocks surrounding the door. More than once, I’d witnessed a teen on the second floor stash his weed and cigarettes behind a loose block, where his father wouldn’t find them. This wouldn’t be a permanent solution, but it would have to do for the time being. I strained to slide the large block from the wall, exposing just enough space to place the towel behind it. 
Heavy footsteps were echoing up the stairwell. I raced back down the stairs and into the apartment. I dove to my knees in a pool of blood, right in front of the pile of bodies, placing both hands on the back of my head, waiting for whatever would come next. 
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]

Praise for the Book
“I held off as long as I possibly could before reading this last installment because I just couldn’t accept that it was going to be over … there is no ‘happily ever after’ for everyone in [Time’s Up, Afton]! It is all tied up enough to be immensely satisfying, but left open enough that … I hope to see more from it and from Brent in the future!” ~ Nicole Campbell, book reviewer (
“5++ fiery stars! I highly, highly recommend this series! …Brent Jones is an amazing writer! His thought process is incredible! [The c]haracters [in Time’s Up, Afton] are so incredibly well-written!” ~ Donna Weiss, book reviewer (
This has been a great series and I couldn’t wait to read the ending but, at the same time, I didn’t really want to leave Afton’s world. … the ending [of Time’s Up, Afton] is going to blow you out of the water. I was not expecting that.” ~ Jessica Bronder, book reviewer (
“… hardcore, graphically-delivered violence and suspense that raises additional issues each successive page. … [Time’s Up, Afton] is recommended for any who look for a uniquely electrifying departure from your predictable genres.” ~ Stanley Mcshane (Virginia Williams), author of Cocos Island Treasure
“Author Brent Jones keeps us in suspense until the end of [Time’s Up, Afton,] the fourth and final part of The Afton Morrison Series.” ~ David Hartshorne, Amazon & Goodreads reviewer

About the Author
Brent Jones
From bad checks to bathroom graffiti, Brent Jones has always been drawn to writing. He won a national creative writing competition at the age of fourteen, although he can’t recall what the story was about. Seventeen years later, he gave up his career to pursue creative writing full-time.
Jones writes from his home in Fort Erie, Canada. He’s happily married, a bearded cyclist, a mediocre guitarist, and the proud owner of two dogs with a God complex.