Tuesday, March 19, 2019

Virtual Book Tour and Giveaway: The Tursiops Syndrome by John Waite

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for The Tursiops Syndrome by John Waite. This book tour was organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. On my stop, I have an excerpt for you as well as a guest post. There's also a tour wide giveaway. Be sure to check out the rest of the stops on the tour here for more excerpts, guest posts, interviews, reviews, and more. Enjoy!
Title: The Tursiops Syndrome
Author: John Waite
Genre: Thriller
Publication Date: October 5th, 2016
How do you get a nuke into the heart of the city? Maybe a dolphin can help. From Author John Waite, the tale of a police detective who matches wits with a mad scientist and terrorists intent on destroying America. When detective Hickory Logan joins Park Ranger Kevin Whitehead investigating the mysterious death of a dolphin she finds herself sucked into a far deeper whirlpool. Can she and Kevin stop the tide of terror that threatens to kill thousands or will they be fodder for a nuclear fireball?

A newspaper review described Tursiops thus: "The writing is, well, wonderful. Waite has a gift for dialogue and story-telling, and his plot is adventurous and perfectly paced. "

**The Tursiops Syndrome eBook will be on sale for $0.99 during the book tour!**

Red Logan hunkered down next to the Humvee's left front wheel. He folded his lanky frame in several places to assure that the vehicle shielded him from rifle fire emanating from the house a hundred feet away.

A furious fusillade had greeted A-Company, first battalion, 407th Special Forces when their vehicles pulled to a halt in front of what was a rather strange building for northern Afghanistan. In the early morning darkness it looked for all the world like a California ranch-style home.

But there was no BMW parked in the driveway.

The firefight lasted less than fifteen minutes. There was only an occasional round pinging off the slate-riddled soil and infrequent bursts of automatic fire keeping the soldiers from charging the structure. Red wondered why the squads weren’t using some of the heavier weapons. He knew the unit armament included shoulder-fired missiles and a Carl Gustav 84-mm recoilless rifle but so far, the big stuff had been silent.

The tip had placed Azam al-Zawahiri, Al-Qaeda's chief organizer for nine-eleven, in the house.

Numerous such tips over the past two years had come to nothing. Most of them originated in minds overly-motivated to garner the twenty million American dollars offered for the capture of several of the world’s most wanted terrorists.

At least one Osama bin Laden look-alike had been found dead. And it took weeks before authorities identified the body. The man had been killed and left in a house to which an Afghan citizen directed U.S. forces. Not only did he not get the reward he sought, but his countrymen also jailed him for mutilating the corpse by cutting off its hands and feet.

Army intelligence, a title Red thought oxymoronic, had considered tonight’s tip more credible than most since it had come in anonymously. The tipster hadn’t mentioned the reward. So the Special Forces unit had headed out in the predawn darkness for a two-hour drive north from Kabul into the mountainous terrain.


The voice belonged to the figure squeezed into the wheel well behind him.

He could barely see Jessie’s sinewy shape, strangely gawky where the video camera and its now-dark lights rested on her right thigh.

“Yeah, what?” he whispered.

“Should I get some video?” Jessie asked, cocking her left hand back over her shoulder.

“Hell no. We're reporters, not soldiers. CNN's not paying us to get shot. Just keep your ass down. There's nothing to shoot."

Before he could finish his sentence, an amplified Afghan voice rang out from the vicinity of the lead Humvee, imploring the occupants of the house to surrender. The answer was a three-shot rifle volley, the rounds pinging off the hard-pack and whining away into the darkness.

“Now,” Jessie said, pushing past Red and swinging the camera onto her shoulder, leaning on the Hummer’s hood.

“No.” Red yelled, trying to pull her to the ground. But it was too late. The light on Jessie’s camera flared brilliantly then died in a crash of glass and the harsh double bark of a Kalashnikov. The rounds zinged away into the darkness, but Red heard in the report the crunch of bone.

“Jessie.” he screamed.
Thousands of author John C Waite’s words flew past Alpha Centauri years ago, heading for the center of the galaxy, perhaps sparking an arthropod’s grin in route. Waite, a degreed journalist and retired Merchant Mariner has numerous writing and broadcasting awards to his credit, and millions of words in print and broadcast media. Originally from New Orleans he has called Panhandle Florida his home for fifty years, but still retains a taste for things Creole and Cajun. A recreational and professional sailor, his travels have covered the Caribbean, the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, portions of south and Central America, Canada, Hawaii, Ireland, Britain, and Europe. John resides in Pensacola, Florida. He is a father to four, and grandfather to four. His books are available on Amazon.

How would you make the world a better place for future generations?

Boy, that’s a tall order.

First, what will make the future a better place? Do we need more infrastructure, better education, stronger cultural values? I don’t know. I believe all writers do influence future generations by reinforcing positive life values, both individual and social. Many young people absorb their first social values from what they read, or see on social media. That, in theory, helps to open doors on social interactions. And all of those interactions reflect the values instilled in our youth via the family.

Writers are primarily out to entertain. Most books published have that as a purpose. They want to make the reader feel something, joy or despair, anger or happiness. But if that entertaining glorifies antisocial values, it doesn’t achieve the stated objective.

So, in simplest terms, to make the world a better place, write good books.

I’ve just finished reading Middlesex, a story about how androgynous genes makes the world a terribly confusing place for the hero or heroine. It traces the gene that controls one person’s sexual persona through several generations and how the human in whom it finally resides deals with it. Books like Middlesex make the world a better place by acquainting the reader with an aspect of life that he seldom sees and may not understand.

Perhaps by reading about the burden one misplaced gene evokes, the reader will find more tolerance for similar or other differences between individuals, or even between races or populations.

Perhaps as a writer I can make the world a little bit better place by exposing future generations to other dissimilarities, and help them see that such things aren’t necessarily evil, and are best simply accepted. Take the other person as a whole and not as simply a compilation of traits, some of which you dislike.

It’s a good job.

John C. Waite will be awarding a $50 Gift Certificate to Nuts.com to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter after the tour. Be sure to leave a comment on a different blog stop each day to increase your chance of winning. A list of participating blogs can be found here. Good luck!
a Rafflecopter giveaway


  1. What's your favorite thing at Nuts.com?

    1. My favorite thing is chicory, but it's not for everyone. A bit of an acquired taste.

  2. Nice book cover and story sounds interesting.

    1. My graphic artist daughter Windy Waite did the cover. It's drawn lots of good comments.

  3. Sounds really great love the cover.

    1. I like it and as mentioned above,I have a daughter who used to do graphic art for Readers Digest. She's done all my covers.

  4. Sounds like an interesting read.

  5. I hope you have the chance to read and enjoy it. Thanks for your note.

  6. "But if that entertaining glorifies antisocial values, it doesn’t achieve the stated objective." True.

  7. I don't like dead dolphins, but the story sounds suspenseful.