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Enjoy this excerpt from Bring Down the Furies by Parker Francis. Don’t forget to enter to win a $50 Amazon GC, $25 BN GC and more in the Bring Down the Furies Book Blast giveaway.

Excerpt:

Allendale, SC – Monday, May 21 – Present Day

The pass flew over the receiver’s outstretched hands, hit the defender in the back of the head and bounced crazily away.

“You dummy,” one of the players screamed at the defender. “That could have been an interception. How many times do I have to tell you to turn around and find the ball?”

The defender, a boy of no more than twelve years old, grinned and flipped his teammate off before retreating to his position behind the defensive line.

The offense huddled up, listening intently to the quarterback, who punctuated his play-calling with hand gestures toward the opposing team.

As the play unfolded, I kept an eye on the motel across the street, watching for the white Cadillac and the man I’d trailed to Allendale from Jacksonville, Florida.

“Hup, one. Hup, two. Hike,” the quarterback yelled.

I guessed he was one of the oldest players on the field, possibly thirteen or fourteen. He was a tall black kid with a sprinter’s body. All fast-twitch muscles. He stepped back from the center and made a convincing pump fake to a freckle-faced boy streaking down the right sideline. When the defenders turned to look for the pass, he tucked the ball under his arm and squirted through the line. He feinted right, causing one defender to collide with his teammate. He cut to his left, broke an arm tackle and raced down the field to the makeshift end zone.

Watching the young quarterback brought back memories of my high school glory days. The cheering crowd rocking the wooden stands. Teammates pounding me on the back. The rush of adrenaline and feelings of triumph that flooded my seventeen-year-old brain. I led my team to the state finals in my senior year, throwing for over twelve hundred yards, thirty-three touchdowns, eight of them using my own legs. Of course I was lucky to have a future Pro Bowler as a receiver, but like the young speedster, I always had a good set of wheels. Even in college I was one of the fastest guys on my team, although I ended up playing defensive back.

But you still have it, Mitchell, I thought. And if DeAngelis decides to make a run for it, he doesn’t stand a chance. Because I’m still fast. Also because Ricardo DeAngelis is nearly sixty-five years old.

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