HarperCollins will release Don's latest novel, Running
on Empty, in May 2012. Here's a taste of what you can expect:
Holding his sister in his arms, one hand pressed against the bullet hole in her belly
to keep her life from pouring out, a part of Ethan Palmer listened for the wail of the ambulance siren, conjured it in his
mind even though the only true sounds came from the compressor of the convenience store cooler throbbing to life in the still
of the night. Compressor sounds and, of course, the sobs that tore at Ethan's throat when he wasn't whispering Raye's name
over and over again, telling her he was sorry, so very sorry.
There
was another part of him functioning on a much more basic level, beneath awareness like elevator music when you're in a hurry
for the numbers above the door to change. That other part of him wondered how this had happened, wondered how it all began,
wondered exactly what had brought him to this moment.
If this were
any other night, if a rational part of his brain had still been firing on all synapses, it might have flickered through a
number of possibilities. One, of course, would have been his first meeting with Link Hornsby, who had run off only moments
ago, the gun that shot Raye still smoking in his hand. Another possible beginning was the dare that Moore-or-Less had thrown
at him, the challenge about stepping outside his comfort zone for once in his life. Most likely, though, he would have chosen
the afternoon he found tucked in his father's mail yet another offer of a low-interest credit card, one that required only
a phone call to activate. Yes, that's what he would have identified as the beginning of everything, the genesis of the moment
he floundered in now.
But he would have been wrong.
Because the real beginning was far less obvious, far too obscure to show up on his emotional
radar. It really all began with his part-time job waiting tables at The Chow Down when Boots McLaughlin began leaving him
those stupid tips.
