It's Raining Books: Old Gold Mountain by Bradley Wright

Friday, May 25, 2018

Old Gold Mountain by Bradley Wright

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Bradley W. Wright will be awarding a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Brad Wright, thanks so much for stopping by. Tell us a little about yourself.

How did you get started writing?

I started writing after my son was born. I was looking for a new artistic outlet because I no longer had time to paint. I had come up with an idea for Old Gold Mountain a few years earlier and then shelved it (figuratively). One night when it was my wife’s turn to put the baby to bed, I sat down and started outlining.

What was the inspiration for your book?

There were several threads of inspiration that got tied together. First, I was re-reading some of the old Travis McGee books by John D. MacDonald. So, the idea of a protagonist who conducts his business in the gray areas of society was percolating in my head. Also, I had recently read an autobiography of a master thief called Nine Lives: Confessions of a Master Jewel Thief. The author is Bill Mason and it’s a great book. I highly recommend it. Those things plus the fact that I was living in San Francisco and had a background in art came together to give me the idea for the plot and main character.

What’s a genre you haven’t written in yet that you’d like to?

Fantasy. Some of my favorite books growing up were fantasy. I would love to give it a try.

Are there any genres you won’t read or write in? Why?

Not really. For me, the quality of the writing is what matters. I will read any book in any genre as long as the writing grabs me.

What are you up to now? Do you have any releases planned, or are you still writing?

I have a young adult novel coming out in early 2019. I’m also currently working on a new young adult novel and a sequel to Old Gold Mountain.

Alright, now for some random, fun questions. Favorite color?

Gray. I know, it’s not really a color but it’s my favorite anyway.

Favorite movie?

Trois couleurs: Bleu directed by Krzysztof Kieślowski

Book that inspired you to become an author?

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula LeGuin.

You have one superpower. What is it?

Teleportation. Imagine being able to go anywhere in the world whenever you want.

You can have dinner with any 3 people, dead, alive, fictitious, etc. Who are they?

Assuming they can magically communicate with each other despite their different eras/dialects: Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, and Joseph Conrad.

Last question: Which of your characters are you most like and how/why?

I think there are bits of me in all my characters. Gabrielle, the gallery owner in Nice, is probably the one I share the most values with though. I would be pretty happy running an art gallery in the south of France and going for lots hikes in the woods.

That’s all from me, thanks for taking the time to stop by!

Justin Vincent is a San Francisco based artist who leads a secret double life as a cat burglar. He likes the freedom, money, and self-determination his unusual career provides but also increasingly feels that it is a life he fell into by accident. When a valuable painting is stolen from his lover Valerie, Justin agrees to use his underworld contacts and knowledge of the black market to help. The search leads him to an antiquities dealer who has fallen on hard times and a mysterious European middle man. With the help of his friend Ashna, a skilled hacker, and Gabrielle, owner of an art gallery in Nice, Justin gathers clues that lead him to a mysterious chateau in the South of France and a dangerous web of secrets and lies. To escape with his life and complete his objective, Justin’s skill, luck, and perseverance will be tested to their utmost limit.

Read an Excerpt:

“What happened to that painting you used to have above the bed?” I asked.

“Above the bed? I didn’t—” Val turned, stopped speaking, breath caught.

A moment later, she whirled, flipped on the light switch, jumped onto the bed, and placed her hands on the wall above the headboard. In the light, I noticed there was a picture hanger still nailed into the wall and a square of slightly brighter paint where the painting had hung. She ran her hands over the bare wall then turned to look at me. Her eyes were manic, her body tense. “Tell me this is some kind of joke, Justin.”

“No joke,” I replied. “Was it there when you left for the gallery?”

“Yes, I think so.” She stepped down off the bed and started frantically pacing the room, looking everywhere. “I’m sure it was.”

“Did you have cleaners scheduled today?”

“No. They come on Wednesdays.”

“Did you leave your balcony door open?”

She looked at me, suddenly focusing. “No. I never leave it open.”

“It was open when we came in. Was it locked?”

“Maybe not. I don’t know. I was in a hurry.”

“Let’s see if anything else is missing,” I said, turning toward the door.

Valerie grabbed my arm, pulling me around to face her. “I don’t care if anything else is missing.” She was on the brink of tears, a tight, almost hysterical, edge to her voice. She raised her hands, placed them over her ears, shaking her head back and forth. “I don’t care. That painting is the only thing I own that I care about, Justin.”

About the Author: