Installment 24 of my featured novel “Relentless” is here!

I am publishing the novel in small installments, so it takes only minutes to keep up with the story. Many years ago, I was a fan of Stephen King’s installment-based publishing of “The Green Mile” over many months, so I am following in that vein as a feature on Moteventure.

On a side note, I do apologize for the delay in releasing this latest installment. The past few months have been very busy both in my work and personal life, so it hadn’t left a lot of time to be too creative! Welcome back to the novel.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Since the author of “Relentless” is a fictitious version of myself, I thought it would be appropriate to ask Microsoft CoPilot to create a fictional “biography” of the elusive writer, and the program did quite well with the few facts I provided. Let me introduce you to D.S. Factor.

D.S. Factor: Master of Suspense and Thrills

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Biography:

D.S. Factor, the enigmatic wordsmith behind gripping suspense novels, resides in the heart of the Midwestern United States. With a penchant for weaving intricate plots that keep readers on the edge of their seats, Factor has carved a niche for himself in the literary world.

Early Life and Inspiration:

Born amidst rolling plains and endless skies, Factor’s childhood was steeped in mystery and imagination. The rustling cornfields whispered secrets, and the creaking old barns held hidden passages. It was here that his love for suspense and intrigue took root.

Factor’s literary journey began with late-night readings of Harlan Coben, whose twists and turns left an indelible mark on his creative psyche. He devoured the works of Charles Dickens, finding solace in the foggy streets of Victorian London. And when he stumbled upon Colleen Hoover’s emotionally charged narratives, he knew he had found his calling.

The Thriller Maestro:

Factor’s novels are a rollercoaster ride through shadowed alleys, where danger lurks behind every corner. His characters grapple with secrets, betrayal, and the fine line between right and wrong. Whether it’s a detective chasing a serial killer or an ordinary person thrust into extraordinary circumstances, Factor’s prose grips readers by the throat and doesn’t let go.

Scamp, the Literary Muse:

At Factor’s side is his faithful companion, Scamp, a spirited Pembroke Welsh Corgi. Scamp’s keen instincts and unwavering loyalty often find their way into Factor’s narratives. Some say Scamp is the true genius behind the twists in his plots.

Beyond the Pages:

When not crafting heart-pounding tales, Factor immerses himself in nostalgia. His love for 70s and 80s music reverberates through his study, where vinyl records spin tales of bygone eras. Sundays are reserved for football, and the roar of the crowd fuels his creativity. In the quiet of his backyard, Factor tends to his garden, coaxing life from the soil—a metaphor for the secrets he sows in his novels.

And then there are the fix-it opportunities—those broken hinges, leaky faucets, and flickering light bulbs. Factor relishes these challenges, finding solace in the act of repair. Perhaps it’s a way to mend the fractures in his characters’ lives or to piece together the puzzle of his own existence.

Legacy:

As the sun sets over the Midwest, Factor hunches over his typewriter, weaving tales that will haunt readers long after they’ve turned the last page. His heroes fight against the darkness, and his villains wear masks of deception. D.S. Factor’s legacy is etched in ink, a testament to the power of suspense and the thrill of the unknown.

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Discover his latest novel, “Relentless,” where secrets lie buried beneath masks of endless lies and relentless pursuit.

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WHAT WAS HAPPENING PREVIOUSLY IN THE NOVEL?

If you’ve missed earlier installments and would like to join our readership, be sure to check out the novel’s home page HERE and take it in from the very beginning!

SCROLL DOWN TO READ THE NEXT EXCERPT OF “RELENTLESS” BY D.S. FACTOR

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RELENTLESS – D.S. FACTOR

Chapter Nine

CAROLINE

Looking about the hospital room, Caroline Kramer closed her eyes and simply listened. 

In the hallway, she could hear the intercom system echoing and repeating messages floor wide to draw health personnel to patients coding, to the x-ray department, and to the nurses’ station. Overhead, the rat-a-tat-tat of an incoming helicopter reverberated through the air for several moments before the sound of its de-escalation began upon landing. 

Snaking down from her bedside, the IV bag steadily emptied itself drop by drop of its saline contents, beeping periodically to alert the medical team of any issues should they arise. Caroline’s gaze focused first on the drip itself, momentarily hypnotized by the ongoing cadence of the liquid. A light flashed green every few seconds on the display unit from which the IV hung, as numbers continued to cycle and change.  

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Meanwhile nearby, nurses and orderlies milled about the command-central style station, some updating charts, while others rushed to attend to the needs of doctors and patients. As an older gentleman was rolled by in a wheelchair with a boot covering one foot and a pained look on his face, an alarm began to toll monotonously behind the wall of the nurses’ station. 

“I got it.”, a young blonde nurse uttered disinterestedly as she flipped off the alarm and rounded the station. “Looks like it’s Kramer around the corner in 716. Shouldn’t take but a minute.”  

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Having recalled a laundry closet only a few doors down the hall from her own room, Caroline plotted her next move as she jammed a bent paperclip she’d found on the tray table into the lock on the restraints connecting her to the bed, after bending and breaking it into two parts. Although the cuffs appeared to be secure and tight, the tiny pieces of metal insured that Caroline remained deceptively free. 

Carefully pivoting herself in the bed, Caroline slipped her bare feet to the floor, paying close attention to avoid her ankles getting twisted up in tubes or wires. Grasping the IV stand in one hand, she maneuvered herself across the room to the small bathroom in the corner and closed the door. 

Moments later, she returned to her bed with one object carefully concealed on the side of the bed opposite the door.  

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The young blonde nurse cracked her gum as she strolled lackadaisically down the hall to attend to her patient, Dr. Caroline Kramer. Finding the door closed, she rapped on the wooden surface a few times while pushing the door open and quietly announcing her arrival.  

Several moments passed as she looked somewhat dumbfounded at the empty bed, convincing herself that this wasn’t the room with the restricted patient in restraints, but at the same time knowing Kramer was indeed the restricted patient on the floor. 

Stepping further into the room, she proceeded to cross the floor, not realizing that in the darkened corner behind the door, her restricted patient raised a curiously heavy metal bed pan into the air, and with as much force as she could muster, brought it down upon the nurse’s head with a muffled but solid crack, watching as the young blonde nurse crumpled into a pile at her feet. 

Slipping her hands under the young blonde nurse’s arms, she pulled the model-thin woman across the floor into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and engaging the lock.  

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Amid the hum of florescent lights overhead and the aroma of coffee mixed with the subtle undertones of antiseptic, the blonde nurse exited the elevator bank, stepping purposefully across the “polished to a mirror-like sheen” floor, passing the paintings of serene landscapes and shapeless geometric designs that dotted the walls of the hospital’s lobby. 

“Goodnight and have a good evening,” a red-headed receptionist smiled from behind a bank of computer screens flickering with patient names and schedules of appointments, a curious look crossing her face for a fleeting moment. The blonde nurse returned the smile and continued, activating the automatic sliding glass doors and finally exiting into the street and fresh air. 

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Traversing several blocks down the bustling thoroughfare, the blonde nurse spied a municipal trash receptacle near the corner of the intersection. Glancing around her, she unclipped the badge from her blouse, and read the name “Isabella Sterling, RN”. An emblem for Med America One was printed in one corner, with a barcode for entry and recordkeeping, and the phrase “In the tapestry of healing, every stitch matters.” printed across the bottom of the plastic. 

Gripping the ID in her hand for a moment, she took a final look to memorize the name, and then Dr. Caroline Kramer dropped it into the trash, turned a corner and just kept walking. 

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