tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73062162535505682522024-03-28T22:30:05.875-05:00The Mystery SectionThis blog is dedicated to featuring mystery books and authors. Each month we host an Amazon e-gift card giveaway.Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.comBlogger563125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-43865797946920431462024-03-28T02:00:00.001-05:002024-03-28T02:00:00.237-05:00Listen, Do You Want to Know a Secret by Teresa Trent<div style="text-align: center;">
<h2><a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/listen-do-you-want-to-know-a-secret-by-teresa-trent/" title="Listen, Do You Want to Know a Secret by Teresa Trent"><img alt="Listen, Do You Want to Know a Secret by Teresa Trent Banner" class="aligncenter size-full" height="361" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/listen-do-you-want-to-know-a-secret-by-teresa-trent-banner-.png" width="640" /></a></h2></div>
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<h2>Synopsis:</h2>
<div style="float: left; margin-right: 15px; width: 225px;"><img alt="Listen, Do You Want to Know a Secret by Teresa Trent" border="0" height="300" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/listen-do-you-want-to-know-a-secret-by-teresa-trent-cover.jpg" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="200" /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;"><b>A Swinging Sixties Mystery</b></div>
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<p>Everyone has a secret, and in 1964, Dot Morgan’s new job at KDUD Radio is filled with them. Her boss, Holden Ramsey, is a terrible flirt, but he’s also engaged to a beautiful socialite. When Dot finds out he’s hiding involvements with other women, these secrets lead to a grisly murder. Can Dot figure out who is murdering the women in Holden’s life before she finds herself next on the hit parade?</p>
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<blockquote class="details" style="margin: 20px; padding: 20px;">
<h3>Book Details:</h3>
<p><b>Genre:</b> Historical Fiction, Historical Mystery<br />
<b>Published by:</b> Level Best Books<br />
<b>Publication Date:</b> January 2, 2024<br />
<b>Number of Pages:</b> 230 <br />
<b>Series:</b> A Swinging Sixties Mystery, Book 3<br />
<b>Book Links:</b> <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/be70c" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/ganCu" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> </p>
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<h3>Read an excerpt:</h3>
<div class="excerpt" style="border-color: 800000; border-style: groove; border-width: 3px; height: 250px; overflow: auto;">
<p><em>I've known a secret for a week or two.<br />Nobody knows,<br />Just we two<br /></em>~The Beatles</p>
<h6>February 9, 1964</h6>
<p>"Hurry, Ellie. It's about to start," Al called out.</p>
<p>"I'm just putting the popcorn in the bowl, Al. Keep your shirt on," Ellie yelled back. The jaunty theme song to "My Favorite Martian" played in the background as it capped off the adventures of everyone's favorite Uncle Martin.</p>
<p>"You're not even married yet," Ben said, "and you already sound like an old married couple."</p>
<p>"Yeah, well," Al said as Ellie squeezed in next to him, reaching for a handful of popcorn. "I don't have to report to prison until June." He gave us a smile, cheeks bulging with popcorn. "Isn't that right, sweetie?" He looked like a mischievous squirrel.</p>
<p>Ellie gave him a sour grin and then playfully hit his shoulder. "You're the luckiest man in the world." She lowered her nose slightly, giving Al a piercing, no-nonsense gaze. "Go on and admit it."</p>
<p>"Yes, dear," Al responded automatically. I loved the way they bantered back and forth. You could tell they loved each other dearly.</p>
<p>Ben reached out and took my hand on the crowded couch, and I lay my head on his shoulder. What we had was different, but that was because we hadn't been dating as long as Al and Ellie had. I tried to keep that in mind. Meanwhile, Ed Sullivan appeared in front of the gray-toned curtains. When they panned the audience, it was filled with women. Young women, and they all looked like they were about to witness the second coming. There were so many expectant looks to the stage. One girl had her fists clenched and held to her chin. I had seen the Ed Sullivan show for years, but never had I witnessed such awe-filled excitement.</p>
<p>"Just look at them all." Ellie squinted at the television. "Do you see any men?"</p>
<p>Instead of answering her question, Al added, "Do you see anyone over thirty?"</p>
<p>Ed Sullivan looked somewhere between excited and terrified. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Beatles," Ed Sullivan yelled, and the screams rose to a feverish pitch.</p>
<p>I had never witnessed mass hysteria, but was sure I was seeing it on Ellie's new Phillips television set. "This is unbelievable. Those girls are going insane." The camera went from the audience to John, Paul, and George. Ringo was set up on a raised platform with his drums. They knocked out "I Want to Hold Your Hand," and with each measure the crowd screamed even more.</p>
<p>"I can barely hear the song for the caterwauling going on in the background," Al said.</p>
<p>"I wonder if they can hear each other." Ellie popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth.</p>
<p>"I told you the Beatles were big news." Ben was the room's professional reporter.</p>
<p>I couldn't get over how excited the fans were. I considered myself a bit of an expert in popular music since I landed my job at KDUD, The Smile on Your Dial. I wasn't spinning records, but I was answering the request line. We were getting more and more requests for the Beatles. Unfortunately, my boss chose Perry Como over John Lennon and Montavoni over Paul McCartney. Sometimes it felt like I was spending my days in a department store, listening to never-ending soulless melodies. Sales were down, and our listenership was too. If my boss would only switch to the popular music of the day, we'd be playing in everyone's kitchen.</p>
<p>It was more than these girls' crazy behavior in the presence of the Beatles. They bought the records. This was a big industry, and these four kids from England were taking America by storm. The rival station across town, KOOL, was playing them nonstop, and that's who people were listening to on their radios. Ellie told me they even made jokes about our station. We were oldies for the oldies. As Charlie Brown would say, "Good grief".</p>
<p>I needed to count my blessings. I had a job I enjoyed. I just hated to see how they were missing an opportunity with their choice of music.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Excerpt from <i>Listen, Do You Want to Know a Secret</i> by Teresa Trent. Copyright 2024 by Teresa Trent. Reproduced with permission from Teresa Trent. All rights reserved.</p></div>
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<h2>Author Bio:</h2>
<div style="float: right; margin-left: 15px; width: 230px;"><img align="left" alt="Teresa Trent" border="0" height="256" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/03/TTrent_AuthorPhoto_3-scaled.jpg" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="204" /></div>
<p>Teresa Trent is the author of the Swinging Sixties Mystery Series published by Level Best Books featuring <em>The Twist and Shout Murder</em> (2022), <em>If I Had a Hammer</em> (2023), and <em>Listen, Do You Want to Know a Secret</em> (2024). She has been writing and publishing mysteries since 2011 starting with the Pecan Bayou Mystery Series and followed by the Piney Woods Mystery Series. When Teresa isn't writing novels and short stories, she spends her time creating narrated excerpts on her podcast, Books to the Ceiling, where she gets to use all that community theater experience from her teens and twenties along with a little audio editing she learned from her daughter. Teresa is a former English teacher, but also spent many years teaching music to preschoolers working with children of all abilities. Teresa makes her home in Texas with her husband and son.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><b>Catch Up With Teresa Trent:</b><br /><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/VlGNp" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">TeresaTrent.com<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/PV1vU" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/clKUD" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">BookBub - @TeresaTrent<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/OgHxI" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Instagram - @teresatrent_cozymys<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/kLVHc" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Twitter/X - @ttrent_cozymys<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/hGzaH" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Facebook - @TeresaTrentMysteryWriter</a></p>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-79472034194423938712024-03-26T02:00:00.003-05:002024-03-26T02:00:00.143-05:00Poppies, Perils, and Poison (Camelot Flowers Mysteries) by Erica Wynters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhbIbK__Iiev7hBKKAkkl_OIUrihT7Cz9gXp_3f-CSRBeXz9FB1-gbU03vHbosqX8H4FkBwmUQ4bQmDTYKCLLxpxGZVFl5-JTaBNComx5E9SBeOoFGqpDfSzQpRERXHQ2WI3EL4pN_hZjVpIyG5uAl3MOgbZYCeIDnv0R1tnhWfA6yWfz9xDjjZlJKFsYt/s820/POPPIES%20PERILS%20POISON%20BANNER%20820.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="820" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhbIbK__Iiev7hBKKAkkl_OIUrihT7Cz9gXp_3f-CSRBeXz9FB1-gbU03vHbosqX8H4FkBwmUQ4bQmDTYKCLLxpxGZVFl5-JTaBNComx5E9SBeOoFGqpDfSzQpRERXHQ2WI3EL4pN_hZjVpIyG5uAl3MOgbZYCeIDnv0R1tnhWfA6yWfz9xDjjZlJKFsYt/w640-h306/POPPIES%20PERILS%20POISON%20BANNER%20820.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Book</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXKKzO4qDsuAuK2dQsXNHqNVdDr21C4QwzZnTyw-vBNOwFgkUleFdhIvZH0h7H-FGN8tWfe7VUjg-UUY8dU18Hb00-3x9DxE6kLnZn3-UfwCGf2ZmZ7wQQpZFSC9wcd4jP3FuhJJX7uVCpa8R4pR-O7xw-llgDvg3N5nqqktV36Xhq0x9hnUeM3QdduNSY/s3000/2_Poppies%20Final%20Master.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXKKzO4qDsuAuK2dQsXNHqNVdDr21C4QwzZnTyw-vBNOwFgkUleFdhIvZH0h7H-FGN8tWfe7VUjg-UUY8dU18Hb00-3x9DxE6kLnZn3-UfwCGf2ZmZ7wQQpZFSC9wcd4jP3FuhJJX7uVCpa8R4pR-O7xw-llgDvg3N5nqqktV36Xhq0x9hnUeM3QdduNSY/s320/2_Poppies%20Final%20Master.jpg" width="213" /></a></b></div><b>From author Erica Wynters comes another Camelot Flowers
Mystery blooming with secrets, suspicions, and danger at every turn...</b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Things are finally looking up with florist Gwen Stevens’
family business, Camelot Flowers, which means her biggest problem now is making
her heart choose between her lifelong crush on the charming Chris Crawford and
her budding romance with Finn Butler, the new police detective who makes her
want to stop and smell the roses.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But Gwen’s thorny love life takes a backseat when Shannon
Wentworth, a newcomer to the small town of Star Junction, drops dead in the
local coffee shop the day after she announces her candidacy for garden club
president. Unfortunately, Margie Philips, Gwen’s surrogate aunt, has been
garden club president for years and had threatened to win again this year at
any cost—which suddenly puts her in the role of prime suspect in Wentworth's
untimely demise!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Determined to clear Margie’s name, Gwen digs deep and
discovers a bouquet’s worth of secrets, including marital infidelity, a lawsuit
threatening to ruin a local business, and even doubts about where Margie was
right before the murder. With too many suspects all hiding something, will Gwen
uncover the truth before the killer poisons her chances of a happily ever
after?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3ugMbFM" target="_blank">Amazon</a>
~~ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/poppies-perils-and-poison/id6473804595" target="_blank">Apple</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/poppies-perils-and-poison-erica-wynters/1144453362?ean=2940167655249" target="_blank">Barnes and Noble</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/203295702-poppies-perils-and-poison" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p> </p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">Excerpt</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Shannon moved
to a table in the corner opposite Margie and Dave. She set her drink on the
table, pulled out two light-purple sweetener packets, and emptied them into the
coffee. Standing, she tossed the empty packets into the garbage near her and
returned to her seat.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">After stirring
the coffee, she replaced the lid and took a sip. Ignoring the fact that
everyone in the coffee shop was staring at her after her petty display with
Margie, Shannon opened a book and took another long sip of her coffee. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I shot Margie a
wan smile. She bugged her eyes out in Shannon's direction and ran her finger
across her throat. I gave her a come on, you're not serious look. She replied
by putting her thumb up to her nose and wiggling her fingers in the air like a
little kid taunting a classmate. Then she smiled. That was the Margie I knew
and loved. She just needed to blow off some steam. Everything was going to be
fine. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Back to
tonight," Chris said, drawing my attention away from the garden club
drama. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I groaned. Back
to tonight. "What about tomorrow after church?" I asked. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Chris's eyes
lit up like a kid finding a puppy under the Christmas tree. "That works
for me. I've missed you. It seems like you've been too busy to hang out
lately." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I had been
busy. I'd also been busy trying to decide how I felt about Chris's sudden
change of heart when it came to our relationship. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Margie's voice
interrupted my thoughts when she said, "We get it. You're a good Christian
woman." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I followed
Margie's gaze. Shannon was bent over her coffee cup like she was praying. Her
shoulder-length white-blonde hair covered the side of her face. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Margie,"
I scolded. Somehow, I'd become the disapproving mother and Margie the snotty
adolescent. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"What?"
Margie said defensively. "I'm just saying nobody prays that long over
their coffee unless they're trying to win an election they have no right being
in by proving what a good person they are." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Chris shot me a
concerned look, and I shrugged. In all the time that Margie had been insulting
her, Shannon hadn't once moved. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Maybe
she's a pro at meditation and she's in a deep trance," I murmured to
Chris. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Chris shook his
head, his sandy-blond hair flopping over his forehead. He brushed it back
absently before saying, "I'm going to check on her." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"What do
you mean check on her?" I asked. Chris hadn't been in the coffee shop the
day before to witness Shannon's meltdown with Amanda. The woman was best left
alone. No telling what she'd do if someone interrupted whatever she was doing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I looked at
Chris and reconsidered my hesitation. Chris was the whole package— the charming
smile, the crystal-blue eyes, the somehow perpetually tanned skin even after a
long winter, the boyish enthusiasm for life that always had people forgiving
any little mistakes he made along the way. If anyone was going to survive
approaching Shannon, it would be Chris. "Actually," I said,
"maybe you're the perfect person for the job." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"What's
that supposed to mean?" he asked suspiciously. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I gave him a
little nudge toward Shannon's table. She still hadn't moved a muscle. It was
like someone had replaced her with a Shannon-statue. "It means she'll
forgive you for bugging her because of your charm and good looks," I said.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Chris preened
at my words. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Oh, stop
it," I said, pretending to be perturbed but feeling charmed, just like I'd
said. "Get over there and see what the deal is. She's starting to freak me
out." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Chris
approached Shannon. "I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am," he said.
"I just wanted to make sure everything was okay." He touched
Shannon's shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">She didn't lift
her head. She didn't snap at him to leave her alone. What she did do was tip
right out of her chair and stare at the ceiling with empty, sightless eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlq6HL4i8sScuiZ50oA-E0cDHCCngf4trBaspzFssJRhsyftSQumv9ZJQO8fXqa4VdfLPkIFLgsKmPPXjOsl6Fu32iXpkQ50BMGOwjUmTgg7tGCAj-oZvFhcntH34m0VuT81rUEmLtlRaVY711mPSDF1T1xKYGt1mGTLzz1c8zNU8PJScJB8m9c196F4M/s5090/F25EBA6C-B11B-40AA-AAE2-55FD4A4C2D20_1_201_a_pp.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5090" data-original-width="3599" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlq6HL4i8sScuiZ50oA-E0cDHCCngf4trBaspzFssJRhsyftSQumv9ZJQO8fXqa4VdfLPkIFLgsKmPPXjOsl6Fu32iXpkQ50BMGOwjUmTgg7tGCAj-oZvFhcntH34m0VuT81rUEmLtlRaVY711mPSDF1T1xKYGt1mGTLzz1c8zNU8PJScJB8m9c196F4M/w141-h200/F25EBA6C-B11B-40AA-AAE2-55FD4A4C2D20_1_201_a_pp.JPG" width="141" /></a></div><br />Erica Wynters may have lived most of her life in the frigid
Midwest, but now she spends her time in the warmth and sunshine of Arizona. She
loves hiking, hunting down waterfalls in the desert, reading (of course), and
napping. Can napping be considered a hobby? When not weaving tales of mystery
with plenty of quirky characters, laughs, and a dash of romance, Erica works as
a Marriage and Family Therapist helping others find their Happily Ever Afters.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ericawynters.com" target="_blank">Website</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.facebook.com/ericawynters" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.instagram.com/ericawyntersbooks" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
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</div>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-52681639084256908782024-03-24T02:00:00.002-05:002024-03-24T02:00:00.131-05:00The Eddie Shoes Mysteries by Elena Hartwell<div style="text-align: center;">
<h2><a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/the-eddie-shoes-mysteries-by-elena-hartwell/" title="The Eddie Shoes Mysteries by Elena Hartwell"><img alt="The Eddie Shoes Mysteries by Elena Hartwell Banner" class="aligncenter size-full" height="338" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/the-eddie-shoes-mysteries-by-elena-hartwell-banner-.png" width="600" /></a></h2>
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<h2><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></h2></div>
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<h2><em>One Dead, Two to Go</em></h2>
<div style="float: left; margin-right: 15px; width: 225px;"><img alt="One Dead, Two to Go by Elena Hartwell" border="0" height="300" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/EddieShoes-01-one-dead-two-to-go-ElenaHartwell.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 15px 0px;" width="200" /><br /><b>Get Your Copy:</b><br /><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/jeAZZ" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/WF83I" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">B&N</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/tvgND" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></div>
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<h4>Book One in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series</h4>
<p>Private Investigator Edwina “Eddie Shoes” Schultz’s most recent job has her parked outside a seedy Bellingham hotel, photographing her quarry as he kisses his mistress goodbye. This is the last anyone will see of the woman … alive. Her body is later found dumped in an abandoned building. Eddie’s client, Kendra Hallings, disappears soon after. Eddie hates to be stiffed for her fee, but she has to wonder if Kendra could be in trouble too. Or is she the killer?</p>
<p>Eddie usually balks at matters requiring a gun, but before she knows it, she is knee-deep in dangerous company, spurred on by her card-counting adrenaline-junkie mother who has shown up on her doorstep fresh from the shenanigans that got her kicked out of Vegas. Chava is only sixteen years older than Eddie and sadly lacking in parenting skills. Her unique areas of expertise, however, prove to be helpful in ways Eddie can’t deny, making it hard to stop Chava from tagging along.</p>
<p>Also investigating the homicide is Detective Chance Parker, new to Bellingham’s Major Crimes unit but no stranger to Eddie. Their history as a couple back in Seattle is one more kink in a chain of complications, making Eddie’s case more frustrating and perilous with each tick of the clock.</p>
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<h2><em>Two Heads are Deader Than One</em></h2>
<div style="float: right; margin-left: 15px; width: 225px;"><img alt="Two Heads are Deader Than One by Elena Hartwell" border="0" height="300" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/EddieShoes-02-two-heads-are-deader-than-one-ElenaHartwell.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 15px 0px;" width="200" /><br /><b>Get Your Copy:</b><br /><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/GxwnI" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/Lo7iv" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">B&N</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/WpuZr" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></div>
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<h4>Book Two in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series</h4>
<p>Private Investigator Eddie Shoes is enjoying a rare period of calm. She’s less lonely now that Chava, her card-counting mom from Vegas, is sharing her home. She also has a new companion, Franklin, a giant dog of curious ancestry.</p>
<p>Hoping for a lucrative new case, Eddie instead finds herself taking on a less promising client: her best friend from her childhood in Spokane. Dakota has turned up in Bellingham, in jail, where she is being held on a weapons charge. Eddie reluctantly agrees not only to lend her friend money for bail but to also investigate who is stalking her.</p>
<p>Soon after Dakota is freed, she disappears again, leaving Eddie to answer to the local cops, including her ex-boyfriend Chance Parker. Has Dakota been kidnapped? If not, why did she jump bail? What are Eddie’s business cards doing on the bodies of two murder victims?</p>
<p>The key to these mysteries lies in Dakota and Eddie’s shared history, which ended when Eddie left home after high school. As a person of interest in both murder cases, Eddie is forced to go in search of the truth, digging into the past and facing her own demons.</p>
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<h2><em>Three Strikes, You’re Dead</em></h2>
<div style="float: left; margin-right: 15px; width: 225px;"><img alt="Three Strikes, You’re Dead by Elena Hartwell" border="0" height="300" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/EddieShoes-03-three-strikes-you-re-dead-ElenaHartwell.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 15px 0px;" width="200" /><br /><b>Get Your Copy:</b><br /><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/OG0qX" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/Fayqc" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">B&N</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/adiU6" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></div>
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<h4>Book Three in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series</h4>
<p>Private investigator Eddie Shoes heads to a resort outside Leavenworth, Washington, for a mother-daughter getaway weekend. Eddie’s mother, Chava, wants to celebrate her new job at a casino by footing the bill for the two of them, and who is Eddie to say no?</p>
<p>On the first morning, Eddie goes on an easy solo hike, and a few hours later, stumbles over a makeshift campsite and a gravely injured man. A forest fire breaks out and she struggles to save him before the flames overcome them both. Before succumbing to his injuries, the man hands her a valuable object. He tells her his daughter is missing and begs for help. Is Eddie now working for a dead man?</p>
<p>Eddie wakes in the hospital to find both her parents have arrived on the scene. Will Eddie’s card-counting mother and mob-connected father help or hinder the investigation? The police search in vain for a body. How will Eddie find the missing girl with only Eddie’s memory of the man’s face and a photo of his daughter to go on?</p>
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<h3>Praise for The Eddie Shoes Mysteries:</h3>
<p>"<em>ONE DEAD TWO TO GO</em> is a well-written fast-paced story that kept me fully engaged from beginning to end. It’s one of those stories where you get to the end of a chapter and think, “Okay, just a few more pages.” And the next thing you know, you’ve read three more chapters." <br /><span style="color: #c3ba2a; margin-left: 40px;">~ Mayor Sonni, Readeropolis </span></p>
<p>"…an engaging mystery that will keep you stumped to the very end." <br /><span style="color: #c3ba2a; margin-left: 40px;">~ Susan Sewell, Readers’ Favorite </span></p>
<p>"<em>THREE STRIKES, YOU’RE DEAD</em> gives us another vivid adventure with the quirky, genuine private eye Eddie Shoes. As usual, author Elena Hartwell’s characters are so real you feel like you could run into them at your local dive bar. Three Strikes takes us even deeper into Eddie’s complex family relationships with her charming-but-deadly father Eduardo and hilarious mom Chava, giving us further insight into Eddie’s psyche. The laugh-out-loud moments are many in this vital third installment, and you’ll find yourself wishing you could stay longer in the world of Eddie Shoes." <br /><span style="color: #c3ba2a; margin-left: 40px;">~ LS Hawker, <em>USA Today</em> bestselling author</span></p>
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<blockquote class="details" style="margin: 20px; padding: 20px;">
<h3>Book Details:</h3>
<p><b>Genre:</b> Private Eye Mystery<br />
<b>Published by:</b> Open Road Media, March 2024<br />
<b>Series Book Links:</b> <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/MOs41" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/BPSsJ" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/u8oFn" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>
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<h3>Read an excerpt from <em>One Dead, Two to Go</em>:</h3>
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<h4>CHAPTER ONE</h4>
<p>Call me Eddie Shoes. </p>
<p>Not a very feminine moniker, but it suits me. My father’s name was Eduardo Zapata. In a fit of nostalgia, my mother Chava named me Edwina Zapata Schultz, even though by the time I was born she hadn’t seen my father in seven months. Edwina was a mouthful to saddle any child with, so at the ripe old age of six, I announced that I would only answer to Eddie. I didn’t have any nostalgia for a guy I’d never met, so Zapata just seemed like a name no one ever spelled right the first time. Chava wasn’t particularly maternal in any conventional sense, so not a lot of nostalgia for Schultz either. At eighteen I legally changed my name to Eddie Shoes.</p>
<p>It said a lot about my sense of humor.</p>
<p>Chava and I had come to an understanding. She stayed in my life as long as our contact was minimal and primarily over email. It was just enough to allay her guilt and not enough to make me crazy, so it worked for both of us. She’d always been down about my choice of career, but what did she expect from a girl who called herself Eddie Shoes? If I hadn’t become a private investigator, I probably would have been a bookie, so she should have been a little more positive about the whole thing.</p>
<p>My career was the reason I sat hunkered in the car, in the dark, halfway down the block from a tacky hotel, clutching a digital camera and zoom lens, waiting to catch my latest client’s husband with a woman not his wife. I’d already gotten a few choice shots of the guy entering the room, but he’d gone in alone and no one else had arrived. I assumed the other woman was already waiting for him. After tailing the guy for a few days, I had a pretty good guess who the chippie would turn out to be. I didn’t think he’d hired his “office manager” for her filing skills, and sleeping with the married boss was a cliché because it happened all the time. I could already prove the man a liar. He’d told his wife he played poker with the boys on Wednesday nights, and I didn’t think he was shacked up in this dive with three of his closest buddies, unless he was kinkier than I imagined.</p>
<p>But then, people never ceased to amaze me.</p>
<p>December in Bellingham, Washington, often brought cold, clear weather and that night was no exception. Starting the engine to warm up sounded tempting, but I didn’t want anyone to notice me sitting there. Nice it wasn’t raining, but if the thermometer had crept much over twenty, I hadn’t noticed. To make matters worse, I’d scrunched my almost six-foot frame down in the driver’s seat for more than two hours. Even with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I was half frozen, and desperately hoped my mark didn’t have more stamina than I’d pegged him for. All I wanted was to go home and go to bed.</p>
<p>And at some point, I would need to pee.</p>
<p>Up on the second floor, the door of the hotel room I had my eye on finally opened. I brought my camera up, ready for the money shots. My earlier pics proved that the dirty white stucco on the side of the building bounced the pale glow from the minimal exterior lights enough for pictures to be clear without a flash. Even from this distance, there was a nice unobstructed view of the location. The only barrier between someone standing on the narrow walk and my camera lens was a flimsy, rusty-looking, wrought-iron railing. The balusters looked too thin to stop anyone from falling the height of the first floor to the asphalt parking lot below. I doubted anything at the tawdry place passed code.</p>
<p>But what did I care? I wasn’t going to stay there.</p>
<p>The “liar”—I have always been creative with nicknames—stepped out, straightening his tie. I snapped a few pictures and held my breath, hoping the other woman would come out behind him. Even if I took pictures of her exiting a few minutes later, the husband needed to be in the picture with her. A surprising number of wives would argue with me about what actually took place in these various, if interchangeable, hotel rooms. For some reason they would rather believe the info about their husband cheating was fake than admit he strayed, which confused me because I got paid either way. It felt especially crazy when they must already know the truth, otherwise they wouldn’t have hired me in the first place. But I knew better than to look for logic in the ways of the human heart and got the best evidence possible.</p>
<p>The man turned sideways. Light from the room behind him threw his face into silhouette. He had an exceptionally generous head of hair, which made him very recognizable even in bad light. Mid-forties, and mostly in good shape, he appeared athletic as long as he didn’t unbutton his sport coat. I could see why women were attracted to him, though he didn’t do a thing for me. I preferred men a little more honest.</p>
<p>But then, I’d never been married, so what did I know?</p>
<p>A figure moved from behind him into the shadow of the doorway.</p>
<p>“Come on, honey, step out into the light.” I held the camera to my eye. “One more step, so I can see your face.”</p>
<p>The woman obliged by leaning into the cold blue glow cast by the old style, energy inefficient streetlights, her cheeks stained red in the flash of the vacancy sign. I happily clicked away as the “office manager” wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. She clearly wore nothing but lingerie. She must assume no one else would be out this late on such a cold weeknight. Or maybe she enjoyed having people see her, a bit of an exhibitionist in the happy homewrecker. Whatever the cause, she had him in the perfect spot for the best pictures.</p>
<p>I loved it when guilty people made my job easy.</p>
<p>My photos might not be art, but they were gold in my book. No way the wife could believe this was anything other than what it looked like.</p>
<p>Several photos later, the husband extricated himself from the mistress and she ducked back into the room and closed the door. He walked briskly toward a shiny red Chevy Camaro. The guy owned a GM dealership and drove a new car every day. He lit a cigarette, which he puffed on for a few drags before he tossed it into the gutter. Not just a cheater, a litterer. The bastard. The cigarette stench backed his poker party story and covered the smell of another woman, killing two birds with one cancer-causing stone.</p>
<p>As soon as he pulled out onto the street, I stretched back up to full height, relieved to still feel my feet. I started up my ancient green Subaru Forrester, cranked my heater, and headed for home, relieved I didn’t have to wait around in the cold for the mistress to reappear. Whatever she did next wasn’t my concern. Having the two of them in the pictures together convinced me my work was done.</p>
<p>The hotel was located downtown—the blue-collar north end, not the high-priced, brick, historical south end, so I dropped down to Lakeway Drive, scooted under the freeway, and wound through the streets that curved around Bayview Cemetery. Traffic at ten o’clock on a midweek winter night was light, and I arrived at my little house by ten-thirty. I downloaded the photos from the hotel onto my computer, wrote up a final bill for my client, and went to bed content. </p>
<p>What could possibly go wrong with such an easy case?</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Excerpt from <i>One Dead, Two to Go</i> by Elena Hartwell. Copyright 2024 by Elena Hartwell. Reproduced with permission from Elena Hartwell. All rights reserved.</p>
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<h2>Author Bio:</h2>
<div style="float: right; margin-left: 15px; width: 230px;"><img align="left" alt="Elena Hartwell" border="0" height="233" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/all-we-buried-by-elena-taylor-author.jpg" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="200" /></div>
<p>Elena Hartwell spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to fiction. Elena is also a senior editor with Allegory Editing, a developmental editing house, where she works one-on-one with writers to shape and polish manuscripts. If you’d like to work with Elena, visit www.allegoryediting.com.</p>
<p>Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she and her hubby own south of Spokane, Washington. They live with their horses, Jasper, Radar, and Diggy, their dogs Polar and Wyatt, and their cats Coal Train and Cocoa. Elena holds a B.A. from the University of San Diego, a M.Ed. from the University of Washington, Tacoma, and a Ph.D. from the University of Georgia.</p>
<p>She also writes as Elena Taylor, to learn more visit www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com</p>
<h3>Catch Up With Elena Hartwell:<br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/2vKoJ" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">www.ElenaHartwell.com</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/Z5x5T" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">TheMysteryOfWriting.com</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/JBXDz" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/Ne9c1" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">BookBub - @elenahartwell</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/IgYKG" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Instagram - @elenataylorauthor</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/DYlt9" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Twitter/X - @Elena_TaylorAut</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/dWEPm" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Facebook - @ElenaTaylorAuthor</a></h3>
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<h3> </h3>
Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-57194969761694767252024-03-23T02:00:00.001-05:002024-03-23T02:00:00.135-05:00Saturday Quote<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-bRizn_AfatXFL-xdZe9KsEE5DSzM0gG314SypOz2hayDMe7bIOC5XDtijtTlHRrC6fQ9JwQieNOYlEtwScYoeamPTBeuom66zCsyMo0SB8a9gy3M85hWq8jEIJd5rIvR0VrR_4KIc6cc86E2Pl36tpKbJfWT2nmpdTKjFAfYNjB9qBbsf-B2mju38sG/s700/50-Book-Quotes-42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-bRizn_AfatXFL-xdZe9KsEE5DSzM0gG314SypOz2hayDMe7bIOC5XDtijtTlHRrC6fQ9JwQieNOYlEtwScYoeamPTBeuom66zCsyMo0SB8a9gy3M85hWq8jEIJd5rIvR0VrR_4KIc6cc86E2Pl36tpKbJfWT2nmpdTKjFAfYNjB9qBbsf-B2mju38sG/w640-h640/50-Book-Quotes-42.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-74042332721962083932024-03-21T02:00:00.061-05:002024-03-21T02:00:00.236-05:00Magic Box Murder by J.C. Kenney<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJjbV3pOmovvt1QpUY8xyYYoF5_tiCdE6YDWK_6Rd3aIPrPldDB7IzRmtyEMlbW2amClGG5WNejSLRyn9IgblpFXjl1eYcKyQFJ-Tn5Rhiv1buBw1E2FmR9x-ePVnSiqc54rpwaSH4tEPxfvGQWgw1Q3OP_kQ38_vorboPFg8ngaBn2aYhI2VtLjxxD9v/s800/Magic%20Box%20Banner2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJjbV3pOmovvt1QpUY8xyYYoF5_tiCdE6YDWK_6Rd3aIPrPldDB7IzRmtyEMlbW2amClGG5WNejSLRyn9IgblpFXjl1eYcKyQFJ-Tn5Rhiv1buBw1E2FmR9x-ePVnSiqc54rpwaSH4tEPxfvGQWgw1Q3OP_kQ38_vorboPFg8ngaBn2aYhI2VtLjxxD9v/w640-h320/Magic%20Box%20Banner2.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Book</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjmk-Ik15gQd2-CJ3ouaXhg5nFmqK0pA3L8Sl919k76WO60EFsqwwi6gzzpkUV_HvY5NW3CuJps9C6lXmALwKsEcHMLhbmUBQrj-GQCHBH9Mrb-8i14eBHTmwRNr8J2GQcH0FXZz-oxCMDKN-W9DdwLPpRZ8oNJ62-ID1Q43rRtY35ynjHBHWCdHInYrxt/s2000/MAGIC%20BOX%20MURDER%20cover%20concept%202.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjmk-Ik15gQd2-CJ3ouaXhg5nFmqK0pA3L8Sl919k76WO60EFsqwwi6gzzpkUV_HvY5NW3CuJps9C6lXmALwKsEcHMLhbmUBQrj-GQCHBH9Mrb-8i14eBHTmwRNr8J2GQcH0FXZz-oxCMDKN-W9DdwLPpRZ8oNJ62-ID1Q43rRtY35ynjHBHWCdHInYrxt/s320/MAGIC%20BOX%20MURDER%20cover%20concept%202.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />For a decade, the Magic Box game store in Marysburg,
Indiana, has hosted a twenty-four-hour gaming marathon as a fund-raiser for a
local charity. Shockwaves go through the town when the newest marathon champion
is strangled less than an hour after the event’s conclusion. In the parking lot
right behind the game store.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Marysburg resident and record store owner Darcy Gaughan
isn’t convinced the police are correct then they label the murder a robbery
gone wrong. When the Magic Box’s owner asks her to look into the case, she
finds not everybody believes in fair play, especially when gamer reputations
are at stake.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3TpMUxX" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/magic-box-murder-j-c-kenney/1144990978?ean=9781685125875" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/magic-box-murder" target="_blank">Kobo</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/207675112-magic-box-murder?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=qFrHwsP798&rank=1" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/magic-box-murder-a-darcy-gaughan-mystery-by-j-c-kenney" target="_blank">BookBub</a><o:p></o:p></p>
<br />
<br />
<br /><h1 style="text-align: center;"><br />Excerpt</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Hobbit was busy chatting with a reporter from the Muncie
Star Press, so Darcy gave him a quick tap on the shoulder and a wave as she
made her exit. A gust of wind took her breath away the moment she was back
outdoors. She buried her gloved hands into her coat pockets and double-timed it
to the record store. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Her breath condensed into small clouds with each breath she
took. Hopefully, the conditions hadn’t worsened inside the Magic Box
after her departure. Nothing was more toxic than a brew of heightened, negative
emotions and money. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Note to self. If anyone suggests Marysburg Music hold a
battle of the bands or some other music competition, tell them no way.” The
open mic nights were huge successes, full of positive energy. There would be no
messing with that success. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A while later, Darcy was hard at work returning misplaced
records to their homes when the clock struck eight. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Closing time, Boss.” With no customers in the store, Peter
locked the door and turned off the red neon “Open” sign. The young
man seemed to be in a hurry to get going. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“What’s the rush, young man? Got a hot date?” Hank
chuckled and began working on the night deposit. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, with my bass. My audition at IU is next Saturday. I
need all the practice time I can get.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Then get going.” Darcy flicked her wrist toward the door.
“Practice makes perfect, not that you need it.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter didn’t need to be told twice. The young
man’s dream of studying at Indiana University’s Jacobs School of Music was
getting closer to reality every day. The in-person audition was the final
hurdle. After that, it was all up to the admissions team. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Darcy had done all she could to help Peter make sure it was
going to be an easy decision in Peter’s favor. She’d thrived in her
time as a music student at Ball State. She had no doubt Peter would do the same
at IU. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She was humming Bobby McFerrin’s hit from the eighties,
“Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” as she swept the floor when her phone buzzed. It was
the Hobbit. The man dispensed with pleasantries when she answered. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I need your help, Gaughan. Angelica Stipe is dead.” </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NSsIaRuJ9ieB7862xtnBeBa170jSVjpQtNka9ewu76f8HBQEDImRXFwC34VBQ6vf4Odz7PsJj2GJnKgIwBxGxy-gG98nRdYn3udwXjyOJr0gtXYb5By2-3SfIeFBLYwQ7CB_CRuBnvWZ0YUzfNTJzyo-gMlM1UO8XrGVe2MiM4IuQjT7fsJRnqkvCYwk/s4000/Main%20Author%20Pic%202023.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NSsIaRuJ9ieB7862xtnBeBa170jSVjpQtNka9ewu76f8HBQEDImRXFwC34VBQ6vf4Odz7PsJj2GJnKgIwBxGxy-gG98nRdYn3udwXjyOJr0gtXYb5By2-3SfIeFBLYwQ7CB_CRuBnvWZ0YUzfNTJzyo-gMlM1UO8XrGVe2MiM4IuQjT7fsJRnqkvCYwk/w160-h200/Main%20Author%20Pic%202023.jpeg" width="160" /></a></div><br />J.C. Kenney is the bestselling author of mysteries full of
oddball characters in unusual settings. He's also the co-host of The Bookish
Hour and The Bookish Moment webcasts. When he’s not writing, you can find him
following IndyCar racing or listening to music. He has two grown children and
lives in Indianapolis with his wife and a cat.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.jckenney.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JCKenney1" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.instagram.com/j.c.kenney/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.threads.net/@j.c.kenney" target="_blank">Threads</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/jckenney" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>
~~ <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-c-kenney" target="_blank">BookBub</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.jckenney.com/contact" target="_blank">Newsletter</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-38811596838901497872024-03-19T02:00:00.007-05:002024-03-19T02:00:00.245-05:00Struck Dead by Andrea Kane<div style="text-align: center;">
<h2><a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/struck-dead-by-andrea-kane/" title="Struck Dead by Andrea Kane"><img alt="Struck Dead by Andrea Kane Banner" class="aligncenter size-full" height="338" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/struck-dead-by-andrea-kane-banner-r.png" width="600" /></a></h2>
</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<h1><i>Struck Dead</i></h1>
<h3>by Andrea Kane</h3>
</div>
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<h2>Synopsis:</h2>
<div style="float: left; margin-right: 15px; width: 225px;"><img alt="Struck Dead by Andrea Kane" border="0" height="300" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/forminator/13997_115b15d08b2c7bb7da2712949e71a2f7/uploads/weZ0HTEU1H6n-9781682320631-scaled.jpg" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="200" /></div>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><b>The fragile line between life and death… Families that will never be the same…</b></p>
<p>When a tragic hit-and-run takes the life of a hardworking family man, multi-millionaire Christopher Hillington becomes the prime suspect, and the whole city of New York alights with speculation as to what happened.</p>
<p>But before the NYPD can establish Hillington’s guilt, he himself is brutally murdered in his own home. As he lays dying, he scrawls the name Casey Woods with his own blood, and the Forensic Instincts team is drawn into a complex mystery that has placed its president in the sights of a desperate killer.</p>
<p>A millionaire’s life is full of secrets and suspects. So as the baffled NYPD investigates Casey for the murder, and the body-count ratchets up, Casey herself becomes another potential victim. The FI team’s hardcore investigation has them twisting and turning through suspects and secrets, where the stakes intensify―and so does the collateral damage. As Casey and the team get closer to finding the killer, the unthinkable happens, and the life of one of FI’s own hangs in the blood-stained balance.</p>
<p>They say dead men tell no tales, but blood doesn’t lie. Peeling back layer after layer of deception, the team will cross whatever lines are necessary to solve the case, get justice for the families, and make their team whole again…unless the relentless killer gets to them first.</p>
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<blockquote class="details" style="margin: 20px; padding: 20px;">
<h3>Book Details:</h3>
<p><b>Genre:</b> Suspense Thriller<br />
<b>Published by:</b> Bonnie Meadow Publishing<br />
<b>Publication Date:</b> March 2024<br />
<b>Number of Pages:</b> 384 <br />
<b>ISBN:</b> 9781682320631 (ISBN10: 1682320634) <br />
<b>Series:</b> Forensic Instincts (#10)<br />
<b>Book Links:</b> <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/xeD7Z" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/IirNy" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/7Cjk6" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">BookShop.org</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/lJRXY" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> </p>
</blockquote>
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<h3>Read an excerpt:</h3>
<div class="excerpt" style="border-color: 800000; border-style: groove; border-width: 3px; height: 250px; overflow: auto;">
<h4>1</h4>
<h6>Offices of Forensic Instincts<br />
Tribeca, New York<br />
Main conference room<br />
Monday, 9:40 a.m.</h6>
<p>Casey Woods, the president of Forensic Instincts, stood at the head of the oval table, her jaw having dropped. She pressed her iPhone closer to her ear, and tried to reconcile herself, both to who the caller was, and the reason for her call.</p>
<p>She certainly didn’t sound like the Angela King that Casey knew. And why in the name of heaven was she reaching out to Casey, of all people?</p>
<p>Angela repeated her original demand: “I need you to meet me now—as in drop everything and get over here.” This time her voice was commanding but shaken.</p>
<p>Shaken? Angela King?</p>
<p>Casey’s mind raced.</p>
<p>Angela was a high-powered and aggressive criminal defense attorney at Harris, Porter, & Donnelly. A virtual barracuda. Rumor had it that she was next up to make partner. No surprise. She successfully defended the richest of the rich, from corporate executives, to wealthy entrepreneurs, to “businessmen” with rumored links to Organized Crime—a fact she chose to overlook since they were affluent enough to pay her fees. She and Forensic Instincts were on opposite sides of law enforcement. They’d battled it out more than once the criminals that FI had helped catch becoming the very criminals Angela would defend.</p>
<p>Needless to say, the FI team and Angela weren’t friends.</p>
<p>And yet, here she was, calling Casey on an urgent, time-is-of-the-essence matter—one she seemed incredibly high-strung about.</p>
<p>“Casey?” Angela repeated. “Did you hear me?”</p>
<p>Casey lowered herself into a chair. “I heard you. What is this about? And why me, of all people?”</p>
<p>“You’ll see for yourself,” Angela replied. She rattled off the address of a luxury skyscraper on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. “Hurry. I’m jeopardizing my career by waiting to call 9-1-1. I can’t wait much longer. But you have to view the scene first and later provide me with some answers. No more questions. Just come. I have a key to the building’s back door. I’ll let you in. We’ll use the freight elevator.”</p>
<p>Casey’s common sense was urging her to refuse. 9-1-1 meant a crime scene, and questions meant involving her. Both those things were screaming for her to stay away. She pushed aside that inner voice. She was too intrigued to refuse. “I’m on my way.”</p>
<p>She shrugged into her wool winter coat as she called John Nickels, Forensic Instincts’ number one on their security team. Then, she blew out the front door, not waiting to fill the FI team in on where she was going. There was no time. Plus, they’d only try to talk her out of it.</p>
<p>Holiday decorations were glistening everywhere, and tiny snowflakes danced in the air.</p>
<p>Casey didn’t notice any of it.</p>
<p>John pulled around a few minutes later, and Casey hopped into the car, gave him the address, and urged him to hurry.</p>
<p>With a brief nod, John was on his way, navigating the FDR Drive in record time. He got Casey to her destination in thirteen minutes. He dropped her off around back, far from the doorman’s view. Then, he waited to return her to the brownstone once her meeting was over, as per her instructions.</p>
<p>Angela was pacing inside the building, and opened the door to let Casey in the moment she saw her. No matter how dire the occasion, Angela always looked stunning. An Armani cobalt blue pants suit that set off her dark skin, matching four-inch Louboutin heels, and long wavy black hair styled at the highest end salon. She carried herself like a queen. In short, she was a knock-out.</p>
<p>Now she looked more rattled than Casey had ever seen her.</p>
<p>“Let’s go,” she said. She led the way to the freight elevator, where she and Casey rode up.</p>
<p>“Tell me what’s going on,” Casey stated flatly.</p>
<p>Angela didn’t answer. She glanced at her Apple Watch, her gaze snapping up as the elevator stopped on the twenty-first floor.</p>
<p>The doors slid open.</p>
<p>Angela paused only long enough to ensure that Casey was right behind her. Then, she strode down the hall, made a turn, and halted in front of Apartment Twenty-One B. She unlocked the door, pulled Casey inside, and faced her to offer the first few words of an explanation.</p>
<p>“This is the home of my client, Christopher Hillington. We had a nine-thirty AM meeting scheduled to be held here.”</p>
<p>Casey’s brows rose. Christopher Hillington was a renowned and phenomenally wealthy managing director of the private equity firm YNE. He was also a major suspect in a vehicular homicide, and Casey knew through various news sources that he’d been questioned several times by the NYPD and was on the verge of arrest.</p>
<p>“I see you know of him,” Angela said. “Given the circumstances, I’m not surprised.” She gestured toward a breathtaking sunken living room. “In here.”</p>
<p>Casey bit back her question about what Angela had just said. She sensed she was about to get her answers. So she remained silent.</p>
<p>The two women stepped down and Angela stood to a side and waited.</p>
<p>Casey got the full view immediately.</p>
<p>Christopher Hillington’s body was crumpled on the Oriental carpet beside his desk, blood pooling out around him. His head was bashed in, clearly having been struck multiple times by a heavy object. The bloodied sledge hammer lying next to the body was obviously the murder weapon. Judging from the damage done, the killer had been, not only determined, but brutal.</p>
<p>Casey eyeballed the scene, feeling sickened as well as confused. She was about to ask Angela what this horrific scene had to do with her when she spotted the letters, written in blood, on the lower edge of the desk, right beside Hillington’s outstretched arm.</p>
<p>She walked over, careful not to touch anything, squatted down, and squinted. The two words were completely legible, and they made Casey’s blood run cold.</p>
<p>Casey Woods.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Excerpt from <i>Struck Dead</i> by Andrea Kane. Copyright 2024 by Andrea Kane. Reproduced with permission from Andrea Kane. All rights reserved.</p>
</div>
<p> </p>
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<p> </p>
<h2>Author Bio:</h2>
<div style="float: right; margin-left: 15px; width: 230px;"><img align="left" alt="Andrea Kane" border="0" height="279" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/forminator/13997_115b15d08b2c7bb7da2712949e71a2f7/uploads/O4cAq55VIryL-20040907_Kane_199-purple-sofa.jpg" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="200" /></div>
<p>Andrea Kane is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of thirty-two novels, including eighteen psychological thrillers and fourteen historical romantic suspense titles. With her signature style, Kane creates unforgettable characters and confronts them with life-threatening danger. As a master of suspense, she weaves them into exciting, carefully-researched stories, pushing them to the edge—and keeping her readers up all night.<br />
Kane’s first contemporary suspense thriller, <em>Run for Your Life</em>, became an instant New York Times bestseller. <br />
She followed with a string of bestselling psychological thrillers including <em>No Way Out</em>, <em>Twisted</em> and <em>Drawn in Blood</em>.<br />
Her latest in the highly successful Forensic Instincts series, <em>Struck Dead</em>, showcases the dynamic, eclectic team of investigators as they hunt down a desperate killer who’s threatened one of their own. The first showcase of Forensic Instincts’ talents came with the New York Times bestseller, <em>The Girl Who Disappeared Twice</em>, followed by <em>The Line Between Here and Gone</em>, <em>The Stranger You Know</em>, <em>The Silence That Speaks</em>, <a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/the-murder-that-never-was-by-andrea-kane/"><em>The Murder That Never Was</em></a>, <a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/face-die-andrea-kane/"><em>A Face To Die For</em></a>, <a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/dead-in-a-week-by-andrea-kane/"><em>Dead In A Week</em></a>, <a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/no-stone-unturned-by-andrea-kane/"><em>No Stone Unturned</em></a>, <a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/at-any-cost-by-andrea-kane/"><em>At Any Cost</em></a>, and <a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/struck-dead-by-andrea-kane/"><em>Struck Dead</em></a>.<br />
Kane’s beloved historical romantic suspense novels include <em>My Heart’s Desire</em>, <em>Samantha</em>, <em>Echoes in the Mist</em>, and <em>Wishes in the Wind</em>.<br />
With a worldwide following of passionate readers, her books have been published in more than twenty languages. <br />
Kane lives in New Jersey with her family. She’s an avid crossword puzzle solver and a diehard Yankees fan.<br />
Author Hometown – Warren, New Jersey</p>
<h3>Catch Up With Andrea Kane:<br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/ZOL1S" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">www.AndreaKane.com</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/Ax1Dw" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/fZNLK" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">BookBub</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/wYMdl" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Instagram - @authorandreakane</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/SJz6T" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Twitter/X - @andrea_kane</a><br />
<a href="https://pictbooks.tours/U69wt" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Facebook - @AuthorAndreaKane</a></h3>
<p> </p>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-59021656849881402392024-03-17T02:00:00.005-05:002024-03-17T02:00:00.136-05:00The Other Murder by Kevin G. Chapman<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/the-other-murder-banner_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="800" height="238" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/the-other-murder-banner_orig.png" width="640" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Sometimes,
the most dangerous thing . . . is the truth. </span></span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/the-other-murder-ebook_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="484" height="400" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/the-other-murder-ebook_orig.png" width="323" /></a></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>The
Other Murder</b></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">by
Kevin G. Chapman</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Genre:
Mystery, Suspense </span></span>
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/theothermurder-about-the-book_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="98" data-original-width="504" height="62" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/theothermurder-about-the-book_orig.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i><b>A
sleek, gripping thriller that raises important questions about truth
and justice.” ~Kirkus Reviews </b></i></span></span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>FINALIST
-- 2023 CLUE AWARD </b></span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>Sometimes,
the most dangerous thing . . . is the truth.</b></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
For
disgraced cable news producer Hannah Hawthorne, covering the shooting
of a pretty NYU sophomore is a chance for redemption. When the story
snowballs into a media circus, Hannah’s reporting fans the
sensationalistic flames and earns her acclaim. The tragic murder,
seemingly the result of random urban gun violence, prompts protests
and vigils that further magnify the story.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile,
Paulo, a reporter for a small online neighborhood newspaper, is
following the other murder in Washington Square Park that same night
– a Hispanic teen. He discovers an unexpected connection that is
political dynamite. When Hannah and Paulo team up, they uncover
disturbing facts, leading them to question everything they thought
they knew. Their reporting also leads them to the man who might be
the killer.</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">
When the story is ready to explode, the truth may be
hotter than anyone can handle. Breaking the next scoop could ruin
Paulo’s paper and wreck Hannah’s career – and it could get them
both killed.<br />
<br />
If you like David Baldacci's page-turners,
Michael Connelly’s cops, and Sara Paretsky’s quirky characters,
you will love The Other Murder. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><u><b>What
readers are saying:</b></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.07in; margin-right: 0.08in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">With
intelligent characters and believable dialogue, Chapman has managed
to create a riveting whodunit that also speaks volumes about social
issues plaguing the justice system. . . . The social issues are
skillfully woven into the narrative, making readers seriously
consider these problems<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;"> </span>even<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;">
</span>when<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;"> </span>they’re<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;">
</span>immersed<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;"> </span>in<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;">
</span>conversations<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;"> </span>with<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;">
</span>possible<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;"> </span>snitches<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;">
</span>and<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;"> </span>the<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;">
</span>chaos<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;"> </span>of<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;">
</span>climactic<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;"> </span>shooting<span style="letter-spacing: -0.3pt;">
</span>scenes.” </span></span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.43in;">~</b><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.43in;"><b>Kirkus
Reviews</b></i></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.07in; margin-right: 0.08in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.43in; widows: 0;">
<br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">"Haunting,
chilling, and heroic . . . a must-read novel." </span></span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">~Chanticleer
Book Review (5-star "Best Book") </b></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Chapman
once again knocks it out of the park.” “The author did a superb
job of developing all the essential players.” </span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">~</span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b>Feathered
Quill Book Reviews</b></i></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i><b> </b></i></span></span></p>
<p style="background: rgb(); line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span>“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Chapman's
attention to building a fast-paced story filled with satisfyingly
unpredictable twists and turns creates a memorable, compelling saga.</span><span color="#">
. . .</span><span> </span></span></span></p>
<p style="background: rgb(); line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Worthy
of a top recommendation.” </span></span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">~Midwest
Book Review</b></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>The
Other Murder</i> will grip you from the start and keep you reading
through all the twists and turns until the surprising end.” </span></span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">~ReadorRot.com</b></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Magnificent.”
“An excellent story, it is a must read for
mystery-suspense/thriller lovers!” </span></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">~InD’Tale
Magazine</b></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="background: rgb(); line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span color="#">“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The
story is a mystery that kept me involved as the different pieces of
the whole story came to light. But there is also a side story that
sent my thoughts off on tangents, pondering the press, what we can
and should expect from them. Chapman’s story ought to get us all
thinking.”</span></span></span></p><p style="background: rgb(); line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span color="#"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></span><b style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">~Big
Al, Big Al’s Books & Pals (5-stars)</b></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The
writing is gorgeous, the narrative is filled with realism and
mystery, and the action moves in unexpected directions.” </span></span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">~The
Book Commentary (5-stars)</b></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="background: rgb();">“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Absolutely
chilling. It's a gripping and harrowing storyline! A great story to
follow and try to figure out what will happen next. This is one of
those books that grabs you from the start and pulls you in.”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span><b><span style="background: rgb();"> ~Amy’s
Bookshelf Reviews (5-stars)</span></b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="background: rgb(); line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<br />
</p>
<p style="background: rgb(); line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span>“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">A
captivating story with a thought-provoking premise.” </span></span></span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">~Bookpleasures.com</b></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Fans
of a ‘whodunit?’ mystery will love trying to piece together this
mystery. . . . With its suspense, mystery, and twists, this book is a
must-read.” </span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>~
</b></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://reedsy.com/discovery/user/georgialyonhyde">Georgia
Lyonhyde</a> for Reedsy Discovery</b></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b> </b></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CJN6W5NJ">Amazon</a>
* <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Audible-The-Other-Murder/dp/B0CP2ZR5RD">Audiobook</a>
* <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-other-murder-kevin-g-chapman/1144340885?ean=9781958339190">B&N</a>
* <a href="https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-other-murder-kevin-g-chapman/20851494">BookShop.org</a>
* <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-other-murder-by-kevin-g-chapman">Bookbub</a>
* <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/180169378-the-other-murder">Goodreads</a></b></span></span></p></div><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SYQE--3PLrA" width="320" youtube-src-id="SYQE--3PLrA"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/theothermurder-about-the-author_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="108" data-original-width="583" height="74" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/theothermurder-about-the-author_orig.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/kevin-g-chapman-headshot-1-275x275_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="275" height="240" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/kevin-g-chapman-headshot-1-275x275_orig.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Kevin
G. Chapman is an attorney specializing in labor and employment law.
In 2021, Kevin finished the first five books in the Mike Stoneman
Thriller series: </span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Righteous
Assassin (CLUE Award </i></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">finalist),
</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Deadly
Enterprise</i></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">
(Kindle Book Award semi-finalist), </span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Lethal
Voyage</i></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">,
(</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>Winner
of the 2021 Kindle Book Award, </b></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">CLUE
finalist, RONE finalist), </span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Fatal
Infraction</i></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">
(</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>Best
Police Procedural of the year – CLUE Award),</b></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">
and </span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Perilous
Gambit</i></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">.
In late 2022, Kevin published a stand-alone mystery/thriller titled
</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Dead
Winner </i></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">(</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>CLUE
Award - Best Suspense/Thriller of the year)</b></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">.
Kevin is a resident of Central New Jersey and is a graduate of
Columbia College and Boston University School of Law. Readers can
contact Kevin via his website at </span></span><span><u><a href="http://www.KevinGChapman.com/"><span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">www.KevinGChapman.com</span></span></span></a></u></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://kevingchapman.com/">Website</a>
* <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/703027696777079/">Facebook</a>
* <a href="https://twitter.com/kgchapman">Twitter</a> * <a href="https://www.instagram.com/kevingchapman/">Instagram</a>
* <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kevin-g-chapman">Bookbub</a>
* <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Kevin-G-Chapman/e/B00J1GJZNM">Amazon</a>
* <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5194743.Kevin_G_Chapman">Goodreads</a></b></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/theothermurder-giveaway_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="106" data-original-width="321" height="87" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/theothermurder-giveaway_orig.png" width="263" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>Follow
the tour </b></span></span><a href="https://bit.ly/TheOtherMurderTour"><span color="#"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><u><b>HERE</b></u></span></span></span></a><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>
for special content and a giveaway!</b></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">$30 Amazon</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="23d974a94063" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/23d974a94063/" id="rcwidget_3b7c8dc5" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-21096807515194721382024-03-16T02:00:00.001-05:002024-03-16T02:00:00.128-05:00Saturday Quote<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUGPbn96pA9ZWUpEW7B49Ox4RNhh-xAUuzqHeK5fvL14K-EspWtrASfc2B646Ya8MqBPPfKXJVCsUPGOmRUC6JiN6DMxDhmJ6abbR7FX-eHMPp8oz5NAUSnuP9ezfWYHdztfOERFUtfBIaVTJ35WnS1axP0prIrM8ANkgovLsdZvGgQgJyIhr3ggTmCKg-/s700/50-Book-Quotes-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUGPbn96pA9ZWUpEW7B49Ox4RNhh-xAUuzqHeK5fvL14K-EspWtrASfc2B646Ya8MqBPPfKXJVCsUPGOmRUC6JiN6DMxDhmJ6abbR7FX-eHMPp8oz5NAUSnuP9ezfWYHdztfOERFUtfBIaVTJ35WnS1axP0prIrM8ANkgovLsdZvGgQgJyIhr3ggTmCKg-/w640-h640/50-Book-Quotes-41.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-30680613957942068112024-03-14T02:00:00.006-05:002024-03-14T02:00:00.156-05:00Dying to Go (Nothing to Gush About) by Marcy Blesy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-WXbZAbR1KspigxrmindypUs6xvrHFbf0owXzLslamvbAOYX9T69NCU6zh5Pua1rZw9_4ZA-yqo9dbZr8K7EzxuIO18E-NZE6y7SBnb8kPUSWkUYx68W0gi9tWNepyHV0lBXJzaMn4Fyz95sFCjJGoFOfM4ER38x83vHpki8JE4z9Q-yqm38eXx7SAjL/s820/DYING%20TO%20GO%20BANNER%20820.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="393" data-original-width="820" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-WXbZAbR1KspigxrmindypUs6xvrHFbf0owXzLslamvbAOYX9T69NCU6zh5Pua1rZw9_4ZA-yqo9dbZr8K7EzxuIO18E-NZE6y7SBnb8kPUSWkUYx68W0gi9tWNepyHV0lBXJzaMn4Fyz95sFCjJGoFOfM4ER38x83vHpki8JE4z9Q-yqm38eXx7SAjL/w640-h306/DYING%20TO%20GO%20BANNER%20820.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Book</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88W57quwPYWQSe49Z6kF67Ab-5F83CM68-Bp7UIOWtW7LbeiPTj17hNWepXNkBq9D5_z9zJjQrsUo_6McVE6sLwTBe2Hnhfia1Rp8pgOVW8fZDKbhC9j1yeZgSYIXAyYbsWrS92F51kIC0Qg6XkxC7TBs9x0O6RZ3Jqj1FWlZD0ADewnAzLiNEyHjf84-/s3000/Dying_To_Go_Final%20(1).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88W57quwPYWQSe49Z6kF67Ab-5F83CM68-Bp7UIOWtW7LbeiPTj17hNWepXNkBq9D5_z9zJjQrsUo_6McVE6sLwTBe2Hnhfia1Rp8pgOVW8fZDKbhC9j1yeZgSYIXAyYbsWrS92F51kIC0Qg6XkxC7TBs9x0O6RZ3Jqj1FWlZD0ADewnAzLiNEyHjf84-/s320/Dying_To_Go_Final%20(1).jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Thirty-nine-year-old Rosi Laruee—named Rosisophia Doroche
after her mother’s beloved Golden Girls—decides that the end of her twenty-year
marriage and her dad’s impending knee replacement surgery are all the excuses
she needs to visit Tucson Valley Retirement Community. But the drama follows Rosi
when she finds the body of local tart and business owner, Salem Mansfield. The
information she discovers using her newspaper reporter sleuthing skills coupled
with the clues she picks up from lackluster Police Officer Dan Daniel lead to a
surprise discovery when the murderer is revealed. Along the way, she meets a
cast of characters in her parents' social circle who leave her questioning her
parents' choices in friends while simultaneously befriending many of the
residents, including a handsome landscaper and a brand-new Golden Retriever
puppy she names Barley. Rosi’s visit to Tucson Valley proves more than she’d
bargained for, but maybe, she realizes, it’s just the kind of change she needs.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Laugh out loud with Rosi, and be prepared to get the
happy feels along the way!</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Book 2<br />
<a href="https://amzn.to/47ZnxXS" target="_blank">Dying For Wine (Seeing
Red)</a><br />
Book 3<br />
<a href="https://amzn.to/48asxce" target="_blank">Dying For Dirt (All Soaped
Up)</a><br />
Book 4<br />
<a href="https://amzn.to/3OyjZov" target="_blank">Dying to Build (Nailed It)</a><br />
Book 5<br />
Coming Soon!<o:p></o:p></p>
<div style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3w5CN8i" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Amazon</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/201914777-dying-to-go-nothing-to-gush-about" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></span></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">Excerpt</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And here I am, Rosisophia Doroche, a conglomeration of the
Golden Girls’ names smushed together, mom’s favorite show in the ’80s, a most
hideous name that I’d managed to keep a secret for all of my life until my
mother filled out my high school graduation forms for my diploma. I didn’t
learn she’d done this until my name was called in front of my 120 high school
classmates and their families before I walked across the stage for my diploma.
The look of shock on my face is forever etched into the photos of that moment,
and even the laughs and extra cheers have been captured on a video recording
that I will never watch for any amount of money.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After showering and dressing in a light blue sundress and
applying a bit of foundation, I wander into the kitchen where Mom is putting
some sort of breakfast casserole into the oven. Mom turns to look at me,
pausing in judgment as is her modus operandi. “Can’t you apply a bit more
makeup, Rosi? You’re not a spring chicken anymore, you know?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Mom, I really don’t think your friends will care if I’ve
applied mascara.” I grab an orange from the fruit basket on the table.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She swats my hand. “Save your appetite for breakfast. And
Jan will care. It’s her nephew that’s coming to town next week for a visit. She
needs to sell you, Rosi.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>“Sell me? </i>I’m not a horse. And I am not the least bit
interested in dating.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Mom takes a deep breath and sits down at the kitchen table,
tapping the seat next to her for me to do the same. I count to five before
sitting down.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m sorry, Rosi. I’m worried about you. We all know that
Wesley is dating again. I just think it’d be good for your self-confidence if
you started dating again, too. You don’t want to be alone at your dad’s and my
age, do you?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Wesley isn’t dating again,” I say through gritted teeth.
“He’s engaged to his mistress. And I don’t need a partner to live a happy life.
I’m here to help you and Dad when he has his surgery later this week. I am not
here as your pet project.” I stand up. “I’m taking an orange and going for a
walk around the block.” I grab the orange out of the fruit bowl again and storm
outside.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE74v4o795seZ1ugYcKvmCmDR7HYe06JrjebXd-Hk5v26-0pEDXbLWb1SYibglKtfNmKJHZmMsvfi4xE03uFc2FmKXEdHN5nox4wvNVqDnxVgADrr7vxdw11SjMGJHSiyc5UA4oHeeuIdwFwhCqR6a_qjY5tZIxE-vRjLUtFRdL73Ki_yxY-aoTHtKX1p3/s4506/MarcyHead%20HIGH%20RES.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4506" data-original-width="3004" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE74v4o795seZ1ugYcKvmCmDR7HYe06JrjebXd-Hk5v26-0pEDXbLWb1SYibglKtfNmKJHZmMsvfi4xE03uFc2FmKXEdHN5nox4wvNVqDnxVgADrr7vxdw11SjMGJHSiyc5UA4oHeeuIdwFwhCqR6a_qjY5tZIxE-vRjLUtFRdL73Ki_yxY-aoTHtKX1p3/w133-h200/MarcyHead%20HIGH%20RES.jpg" width="133" /></a></b></div><b><br />Marcy Blesy </b>is the author of over thirty books
including the popular cozy mystery series: The Tucson Valley Retirement
Community Cozy Mystery Series. Her adult romance mystery series includes The
Secret of Blue Lake and The Secret of Silver Beach, set in Michigan. Her
children's books include the best-selling Be the Vet series along with the
following early chapter book series: Evie and the Volunteers, Niles and
Bradford, Third Grade Outsider, and Hazel, the Clinic Cat. Her picture book, Am
I Like My Daddy?, helps children who experienced the loss of a parent when they
were young.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Marcy enjoys searching for treasures along the shores of
Lake Michigan. She's still waiting for the day when she finds a piece of red
beach glass. By day she teaches creative writing virtually to amazing students
around the world.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Marcy is a believer in love and enjoys nothing more than
making her readers feel a book more than simply reading it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://www.marcyblesy.com" target="_blank">Website</a> ~~ </b><b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61550966870826&mibextid=kFxxJD" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ~~ </b><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/marcy_blesy?igsh=MXhlYXpibnhoeWkyNw%3D%3D&utm_source=qr" target="_blank">Instagram</a></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><h1 style="text-align: center;">Giveaway</h1><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="028877921633" data-template="56d5f80dbc544fb30fda66f0" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/028877921633/" id="rcwidget_mbrc0b2l" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></div><div><br />
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<p style="text-align: left;"><b>TOUR PARTICIPANTS</b><br />March 13 – <a href="https://jodyjoy.com">Mystery,
Thrillers, and Suspense</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />March 13 – <a href="https://saphsbooks.blogspot.com/">Sapphyria's
Book Reviews</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />March 14 – <a href="https://christyscozycorners.com/">Christy's
Cozy Corners</a> – CHARACTER GUEST POST<br />March 14 – <a href="https://themysterysection01.blogspot.com/">The Mystery Section</a>
– SPOTLIGHT<br />March 15 – <a href="https://www.literaryau.com">Literary
Gold</a> – AUTHOR INTERVIEW<br />March 15 – <a href="https://guatemalapaula.blogspot.com/">Guatemala Paula Loves to Read</a>
– REVIEW<br />March 16 – <a href="http://socratesbookreviews.blogspot.com/">Socrates Book Reviews</a>
– SPOTLIGHT<br />March 16 – <a href="https://celticladysreviews.blogspot.com/">Celticlady's Reviews</a>
– SPOTLIGHT<br />March 17 – <a href="http://ow.ly/w3SA50vlKHY">#BRVL
Book Review Virginia Lee</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />March 17 – <a href="https://baronessbooktrove.com/">Baroness
Book Trove</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />March 18 – <a href="https://readyourwrites.blogspot.com/">Read Your Writes Book Reviews</a>
– CHARACTER INTERVIEW<br />March 18 – <a href="http://fuonlyknew.com/">FUONLYKNEW</a>
– SPOTLIGHT<br />March 19 – <a href="http://www.escapewithdollycas.com/">Escape With Dollycas Into A Good
Book</a> – REVIEW, AUTHOR GUEST POST <br />March 20 – <a href="https://musingsbymaureen.blogspot.com/">Maureen's Musings</a> –
SPOTLIGHT<br />March 21 – <a href="http://novelsalive.com/">Novels
Alive</a> – REVIEW<br />March 22 – <a href="https://www.facebook.com/fortwaynestorytelling">Storybook Lady</a>
– REVIEW<br />March 23 – <a href="http://www.teatimeandbooks76.blogspot.com/">Teatime and Books</a>
– SPOTLIGHT<br />March 24 – <a href="https://cozyupwithkathy.blogspot.com/">Cozy Up With Kathy</a> –
AUTHOR INTERVIEW</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><br /></div>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-66457387655258582812024-03-12T02:00:00.011-05:002024-03-12T02:00:00.350-05:00The Poison Dart by Geri Dreiling<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/the-poison-dart-banner_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="800" height="238" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/the-poison-dart-banner_orig.png" width="640" /></a></p><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Some tales don’t want to be told.
They’re shrouded in the dark and cloaked in danger. Sensible people
leave those mysteries well enough alone. But not Debbie Bradley.
After all, that’s how she makes her living. </span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/2-the-poison-dart_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="484" height="400" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/2-the-poison-dart_orig.png" width="323" /></a></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><b>The Poison Dart </b></span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Debbie
Bradley Crime Mysteries Book 2 </span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">by
Geri Dreiling </span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Genre:
Mystery, Thriller </span>
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/thepoisondart-about-the-book_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="104" data-original-width="477" height="70" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/thepoisondart-about-the-book_orig.png" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="border: none; display: inline-block; padding: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><strong>An
overdose. A drug bust. A captive of the cartel. When fates collide,
who will survive?</strong></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">
</span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div style="text-align: left;">The
ripple effects of an overdose send shock waves through a community.</div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><div style="text-align: left;">A
sweeping drug bust upends lives, exposing the cartel's deep reach
into the Midwest.</div><div style="text-align: left;">A quest for a better life threatens to destroy
a family.</div><div style="text-align: left;">As Debbie Bradley digs deeper into each story,
startling connections emerge. When fates collide, who will survive?</div></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><u><b>What
readers are saying:</b></u></span></p>
<p>“The
narrative contains the right blend of mystery, crime scenes and
action. It is one of those books that keeps one glued until the very
end.“</p><p>“Dreiling relies more on intelligent conversations, on the
proper and strategic use of lies, and on wordplay“</p><p>“Grab or download a copy, curl up with a blanket on the couch,
and enjoy this good read and solid, accurate, crime story with
interesting twists and turns.“</p><p>
</p><p>“With a talent for plot creation, patiently unwinding the
threads of all angles, and never lacking for excitement, Dreiling is
an author you will want to read time and time again.“</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: red;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><b>**On
Sale for Only .99 cents until March 1st!!**</b></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://amzn.to/3SYYVsM">Amazon</a>
* <a href="https://www.left-bank.com/book/9781735030333">Left Bank
Books</a> * <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-poison-dart-a-debbie-bradley-mystery-debbie-bradley-crime-mysteries-book-2-by-geri-l-dreiling">Bookbub</a>
* <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/204630198-the-poison-dart">Goodreads</a></b></span></span></p>
<p style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/1-crime-beat-girl-ebook_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="484" height="400" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/1-crime-beat-girl-ebook_orig.png" width="323" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><b>Crime Beat Girl </b></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Debbie
Bradley Crime Mysteries Book 1 </span>
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/thepoisondart-about-the-book_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="104" data-original-width="477" height="70" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/thepoisondart-about-the-book_orig.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div style="text-align: left;">A girl is dead. A boy is locked up.
Can Debbie Bradley discover the truth before more lives are
lost…maybe even her own?</div>
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">A series of deadly shootings.
An outbreak of stolen cars. When journalist Debbie Bradley returns
home to St. Louis, the summer crime wave has started. And she’s in
the center: A witness, a reporter, a target.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Debbie’s
reasons for leaving behind her promising career in Washington D.C.
were complicated. Her mother, a prominent lawyer, was diagnosed with
cancer. Her engagement was cooling. When she got offered a job in St.
Louis that she hadn’t been looking for, Debbie recognized an
opportunity. Or an escape.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But she didn’t expect to come
home and see a girl die. Debbie never planned to investigate a boy
behind bars. And she didn’t anticipate colliding with hostile cops
and wary politicians.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As her work gains attention, Debbie
gathers enemies. Will her assignment to cover the St. Louis crime
beat be her last?</div></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><u><b>What
readers are saying:</b></u></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“Intense crime
story full of unexpected twists and turns” — Readers’
Favorite, 5-Star Review</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
“Gripping
crime story…with deep themes and highlighting very real problems” —
Readers’ Favorite, 5-Star Review</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
“A
page-turner, engaging the reader from the first page to the last” —
Readers’ Favorite, 5-Star Review
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B089KWDJR5">Amazon</a>
* <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/crime-beat-girl-debbie-bradley-crime-mysteries-book-1-by-geri-l-dreiling">Bookbub</a>
* <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53847650-crime-beat-girl">Goodreads</a></b></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ND98KOYO1dA" width="320" youtube-src-id="ND98KOYO1dA"></iframe></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/thepoisondart-about-the-author_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="94" data-original-width="547" height="55" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/thepoisondart-about-the-author_orig.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/geri-dreiling-bio-pic-275x183_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/geri-dreiling-bio-pic-275x183_orig.jpg" width="275" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Geri L. Dreiling is the author
of <i>Crime Beat Girl</i>, the debut novel in the Debbie Bradley
Mystery series, which received seven book awards. She is also the
author of Erasing the Past. Dreiling is an award-winning journalist
as well as professor and lawyer. She lives in St. Louis.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Check
out the St. Louis on the Air interview for Crime Beat Girl!</span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.stlpr.org/show/st-louis-on-the-air/2020-09-14/thursday-geri-l-dreilings-new-novel-crime-beat-girl-is-set-in-st-louis" target="_blank"><span color="#"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">https://www.stlpr.org/show/st-louis-on-the-air/2020-09-14/thursday-geri-l-dreilings-new-novel-crime-beat-girl-is-set-in-st-louis</span></span></a></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://geridreiling.com/">Website</a>
* <a href="https://www.facebook.com/geridreilingmusings">Facebook</a>
* <a href="https://twitter.com/GeriDreiling">X</a> * <a href="https://www.instagram.com/geridreiling">Instagram</a>
* <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/geri-l-dreiling">Bookbub</a>
* <a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/Geri-Dreiling/author/B07KDYFZ5D">Amazon</a>
* <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7734895.Geri_Dreiling">Goodreads</a></b></span></span></p>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-1218830437508101812024-03-10T03:00:00.001-05:002024-03-10T03:00:00.333-05:00Black & White by Justin M. Kiska<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg386JSozUrErd2pU_JdeWhMmeQLJx427jUOMEbjk10NsKXdgSOVTxXU4qOG49E9tCgnT86viuhoD5R7D6Z-rXSkMBZMQwAo5kpmsOhpTXg4l_rBMxwhrAmXiZk_iYrzfFRd-Fi0PBJUD_p0U1D36m1o9_LiQVZyFKmK3poxV041M98KHXIBtGlb5nvw0XB/s1000/Black%20Banner.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="1000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg386JSozUrErd2pU_JdeWhMmeQLJx427jUOMEbjk10NsKXdgSOVTxXU4qOG49E9tCgnT86viuhoD5R7D6Z-rXSkMBZMQwAo5kpmsOhpTXg4l_rBMxwhrAmXiZk_iYrzfFRd-Fi0PBJUD_p0U1D36m1o9_LiQVZyFKmK3poxV041M98KHXIBtGlb5nvw0XB/w640-h256/Black%20Banner.png" width="640" /></a></div>
</div>
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<h2>Synopsis:</h2>
<div style="float: left; margin-right: 15px; width: 225px;"><img alt="Black & White by Justin M. Kiska" border="0" height="300" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/forminator/13997_115b15d08b2c7bb7da2712949e71a2f7/uploads/GRZdprSnqSuD-BW-Cover.jpg" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="200" /></div>
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<p><strong>Parker City, 1985 . . .</strong></p>
<p>A picturesque spring morning takes a disturbing turn when the frozen body of a young woman is discovered in a field on the outskirts of the city. As Detectives Ben Winters and Tommy Mason arrive on the scene, they have no idea upon what type of an investigation they are about to embark. With no identification, no breadcrumbs to lead them to the girl’s origins, or even a cause of death, they face a daunting task ahead as they take on their latest case.</p>
<p>As the investigation lingers in limbo, a surprise revelation connects it to a mysterious chapter from Parker City’s past. One that Tommy's own uncle was a part of four decades early as a debonair private investigator working for the venerable Stride Detective Agency, tenaciously searching for the missing daughter of a former diplomat. It's a connection that binds two generations of detectives in an intricate web of intrigue.</p><h5>In this captivating new installment of Parker City Mysteries, both investigations unravel simultaneously, forging an unbreakable link between the past and the present. As Ben and Tommy navigate their way through the case, they must confront the truth to a secret that has remained concealed for far too long.</h5>
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<blockquote class="details" style="margin: 20px; padding: 20px;">
<h3>Book Details:</h3>
<p><b>Genre:</b> Police Procedural<br />
<b>Published by:</b> Level Best Books<br />
<b>Publication Date:</b> February 2024<br />
<b>Number of Pages:</b> 300<br />
<b>ISBN:</b> Coming Soon!<br />
<b>Series:</b> <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/MMlBh" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Parker City Mysteries</a>, Book 4<br />
<b>Book Links:</b> <a href="https://amzn.to/4bSg0gN" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/zmZyj" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></p>
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<h3>Read an excerpt:</h3>
<div class="excerpt" style="border-color: 800000; border-style: groove; border-width: 3px; height: 250px; overflow: auto;">
<p>Stepping out of the car, the weather was so nice, Ben left his suit jacket laying on the backseat where he’d tossed it before leaving the station. But, as he always did when he was about to enter a new crime scene, he placed his hand on the Smith & Wesson on his hip. The weight of the cool metal helped to center him so he could focus on whatever he was about to be confronted by. It reminded him how important his work was and the duty he believed so much in. It was thinking like that that earned Ben a reputation of being a Boy Scout. An idealist who truly wanted to protect and defend the people of Parker City. He always wondered how some people could make that sound like a bad thing. </p>
<p>Some of the older members of the department liked to live in a gray area of the law, while Ben tried his very best to always do what was right. It’s when what was right fell into those gray areas that Ben needed to rely on his partner to help make sense of what needed to be done.</p>
<p>Trying to imagine what they’d been called out for he knew no two crime scenes were ever the same. Sure, elements could be similar. There was always a tragedy overshadowing them, but each was unique. Which is why Ben walked into each with a completely open mind and a keen pair of eyes trying to take in every single detail. It was always the details that cracked a case. Which meant one never knew how important the smallest piece of evidence could really be. If something was out of place, it was important until it wasn’t. That’s how he thought. And sometimes-and this was often the more confusing part-the absence of something was just as important. If not more. </p>
<p>“Not putting your jacket on?” The voice of Ben’s partner, Tommy Mason, came from the other side of the car. “I didn’t realize this was a casual crime scene.” </p>
<p>Ben raised an eyebrow and shook his head.</p>
<p>The two were always picking on one another. It’s what they did. It’s what made their friendship so strong. When it came to what to wear as police detectives, there was a continuing debate between the two. Ben felt a suit and tie was most appropriate. Not only did it look more professional and attract a certain level of respect but, with his clean-cut babyface, it helped him look a little older than his thirty years. Though not much. Tommy, on the other hand, saw nothing wrong with wearing jeans and a T-shirt under a leather jacket. While he looked like a cop on one of the popular crime shows on television, Ben always pointed out that that was Hollywood’s version of a police detective. Since Ben technically was his supervisor and commanding officer, Tommy begrudgingly put a tie on every morning. Most days though, he usually left it loose with his collar wide open. Ben still took it as a victory.</p>
<p>Blowing a cloud of smoke into the air, Tommy dropped what little remained of his cigarette on the ground and stamped it out before taking his corduroy jacket off and tossing it back into the car. If Ben didn’t have to wear his jacket at the crime scene, he sure as hell wasn’t going to wear one.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t this feel much less constricting,” he asked with a grin. “And it’s so much easier to get to our guns in the event we’re in danger.”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Ben said as he started toward the cluster of men in the field.</p>
<p>“I’m just saying. If your life was in danger, it would be so much easier for me to shoot someone to save you–which you know I would do–if I didn’t have to worry about my jacket getting in the way. Those few precious seconds could save your life one day. Natalie would agree.”</p>
<p>Stopping and turning to look at his partner a few steps behind him, Ben asked, “Why exactly do you think it would have to be <em>you</em> saving <em>me</em> and not the other way around?” </p>
<p>“Because that’s just the way it is,” Tommy answered very matter-of-factly. “Think about how many times I’ve saved your life?”</p>
<p>Ben’s forehead wrinkled, a puzzled expression appearing on his face. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m the one that saved <em>you</em> at least two times that I can think of in the last year alone.”</p>
<p>“Clearly we remember things very differently.”</p>
<p>“You’re a pain in my ass. You know that, right?”</p>
<p>Smiling the thousand watt smile for which he was known, Tommy answered, “I like to think that I keep you grounded.”</p>
<p>So was the way of Detectives Ben Winters and Tommy Mason. More often than not, they sounded like an old married couple bickering about one thing or another. Completely devoted to one another, they were closer than brothers. They’d grown up together, gone to school together, joined the academy together, and when the order was given for a new Detective Squad to be created within the Parker City Police Department, they were tapped for the job. </p>
<p>As it was, for the last four years, they were the <em>only</em> two members of the department’s official criminal investigation team. Though Parker City was by no means a hotbed of criminal activity, they’d been involved in several major investigations which rocked the city. Two of which even attracted the national spotlight, making the pair famous for a few minutes. Most police officers could go their entire careers without being involved in the types of cases which had kept them up at night, but the two young men had earned their detective shields through trial by fire.</p>
<p>Catching his foot in a clump of thick weeds, Ben knew if he tripped and landed in the dirt, Tommy would never let him hear the end of it. Thankfully, he was able to quickly regain his balance and keep himself upright.</p>
<p>His hope that Tommy didn’t see the awkward contortion the lower half of his body performed to avoid hitting the ground was dashed when from behind him he heard the sarcasm-laced comment, “As graceful as a gazelle.” Which was then followed almost immediately by the unmistakable sound of something hitting the dirt. Hard.</p>
<p>“Sonofa…”</p>
<p>Ben turned in just enough time to see Tommy jumping to his feet and dusting off his pants.</p>
<p>“Not a single word,” Tommy admonished, vigorously shaking his head. “I’m well aware Karma’s a bitch.”</p>
<p>Deciding to take the highroad, Ben valiantly stifled the laugh fighting to burst free.</p>
<p>“You’ve got a little bit of something there on your…” Ben started, pointing to his partner’s pant leg.</p>
<p>“Shut it!” Tommy said. At which point Ben couldn’t contain himself. The laughter won and overpowered him. </p>
<p>As the two detectives reached the other men standing in the field, they recognized one of the patrolmen as a new officer who’d just recently joined the department and the other was one of Tommy’s least favorite people on the planet, Buck LuCoco. An overweight, lazy throw-back to the days when the police in the city did as little as they needed to. Neither Ben nor Tommy understood how he was still on the force. Or why he wanted to be with his attitude.</p>
<p>“LuCoco, Brown,” Ben said giving the uniformed officers each a quick nod of his head.</p>
<p>“How is it, Buck,” Tommy began, “whenever a body drops in this town, you’re the first man on the scene?”</p>
<p>“Just lucky, I guess,” LuCoco said, mopping his sweaty brow with a wrinkled handkerchief from his pocket. “It could also be that the scumbags in this city do their dirty work at night and since I’m the first one outta the door in the morning, I get the call. Either way, it’s crap. I tell ya!”</p>
<p>“Being that it’s after lunchtime already–,” Tommy began to say before Ben placed a hand on his arm, giving him the signal to let it go.</p>
<p>Then, turning to the younger officer who appeared quite eager to give his report to the department’s chief detective, Ben asked, “What have we got?” </p>
<p>“This is Sam Ruppert,” Brown introduced the man, referring to his notebook. “He’s one of the city’s engineers. He was doing some routine work out here this morning when he found the body of a young female. D.O.A.”</p>
<p>Turning to Ruppert, a tall, beefy guy in a flannel shirt, jeans, and work boots, Ben took his own notebook from his shirt pocket. “Morning, Mr. Ruppert. I’m Detective Ben Winters. You’re with the city?”</p>
<p>“Public Works Department,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Almost fifteen years now.”</p>
<p>“What brought you out here today?”</p>
<p>“The city’s getting ready to do some work in this field and I needed to take a few quick measurements. We’ve been out here every day for the last week. I thought I’d be here and gone in a few minutes. Then I found…” His voice trailed off as he looked away toward something another twenty or so feet away.</p>
<p>“What did you find?”</p>
<p>“A body. She wasn’t there yesterday. I know that for a fact because I was here all day with a couple other guys. We were all over this place. We’d have seen her for sure.”</p>
<p>Pointing at the mound the engineer was staring at, Tommy asked, “Is that the body?”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.”</p>
<p>“Did one of you cover her up or did you find her like that?” Ben asked, referring to the tattered, green checked blanket.</p>
<p>“She was like that,” Ruppert said taking a deep breath. “At first, I thought it was someone in a sleeping bag or something. Thought maybe they’d slept out here last night. Sky was clear. They could see the stars. But when I got close and hollered, there was no… She didn’t move. When I got up close I saw... Geez. I’ve never seen anything like it. This isn’t how I thought my day was gonna go.”</p>
<p>Other than the occasional funeral, it was true, the average person didn’t have much exposure to dead bodies. But there was something in the way the man was acting that made Ben think there was more to the story. He was too shaken up. If one could be too shaken up after finding a dead body on the job. </p>
<p>“What is it you’ve never seen before?” Ben inquired, interested to hear the conclusion to Ruppert’s story. </p>
<p>“Oh, I think you should just see for yourself, Detective” LuCoco said interrupting, a twisted smirk on his fat face.</p>
<p>“What is it, LuCoco? Just tell us.” Tommy had no patience for the man. There was a time he used to hide his contempt, now he didn’t even try. Not that LuCoco was very observant. Or he just didn’t give a damn.</p>
<p>“Sirs,” Officer Brown interrupted, “let me show you.”</p>
<p>Walking the group over to the covered body, Brown knelt down and, using a handkerchief he’d had in his pocket, pulled the blanket back revealing the naked body of a beautiful young woman with dark wavey hair. But something wasn’t right. Not that the naked body of a woman in the middle of a field was right. But in this instance, it was her skin.</p>
<p>“What the hell?” Tommy’s reaction matched what Ben was thinking. “She’s blue.”</p>
<p>Blue wasn’t entirely accurate, but it was pretty close. The skin was a pale hue, almost white. And there was a frosty sheen to it, with small ice crystals visible around her eyes and mouth. Little droplets glistened on her eyelashes.</p>
<p>“She’s frozen,” Brown said, looking up at the detectives. </p>
<p>“It was cool last night,” Tommy said, kneeling down himself to get a better look, “but not cold enough to freeze to death.”</p>
<p>“No. I mean, she’s frozen like a block of ice.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Excerpt from <i>Black & White</i> by Justin M. Kiska. Copyright 2024 by Justin M. Kiska. Reproduced with permission from Justin M. Kiska. All rights reserved.</p></div>
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<p> </p>
<h2>Author Bio:</h2>
<div style="float: right; margin-left: 15px; width: 230px;"><img align="left" alt="Justin M. Kiska" border="0" height="200" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/forminator/13997_115b15d08b2c7bb7da2712949e71a2f7/uploads/jnYpEcjWh8sx-KiskaJustin.jpg" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="143" /></div>
<p>When not sitting in his library devising new and clever ways to kill people (for his mysteries), Justin can usually be found at The Way Off Broadway Dinner Theatre, outside of Washington, DC, where he is one of the owners and producers. In addition to writing the Parker City Mysteries Series, which includes <strong><em>Now & Then</em></strong> (Finalist for the 2022 Silver Falchion Award for Best Investigator), <a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/vice-virtue-by-justin-m-kiska/"><strong><em>Vice & Virtue</em></strong></a>, and <a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/fact-fiction-by-justin-m-kiska/"><strong><em>Fact & Fiction</em></strong></a>, he is also the mastermind behind <strong><em>Marquee Mysteries</em></strong>, a series of interactive mystery events he has been writing and producing for over fifteen years. Justin and his wife, Jessica, live along Lake Linganore outside of Frederick, Maryland.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><b>Catch Up With Justin M. Kiska:</b><br /><a href="https://bit.ly/46OTkKJ" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">JustinKiska.com<br /></a><a href="https://bit.ly/46E8XnY" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads<br /></a><a href="https://bit.ly/3SVg1tf" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">BookBub - @JMKiska<br /></a><a href="https://bit.ly/40XHAUC" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Instagram - @JMKiska<br /></a><a href="https://bit.ly/3GoqPZa" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Twitter/X - @JustinKiska<br /></a><a href="https://bit.ly/30ZpvuY" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Facebook - @JMKiska</a></p>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-10187706907584352532024-03-09T02:00:00.001-06:002024-03-09T02:00:00.133-06:00Saturday Quote<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocKzarrEervPHrNHzxF0OnLfGmEW52-SJgyP1YiOL68tc0lkaW71viiWUlBetEJP5V5L1WgPsC4tVNQSqUShvn9kHczR4jjymRcURNtBPJ7rAJjm2dC_HhQFai3kUPwh2faU2Ems2AeUfe_Ip9u1YTU3eafqsQlOwKZ8ckJe9ACCPvkX9Kt6ecXJm7ThO/s700/50-Book-Quotes-40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocKzarrEervPHrNHzxF0OnLfGmEW52-SJgyP1YiOL68tc0lkaW71viiWUlBetEJP5V5L1WgPsC4tVNQSqUShvn9kHczR4jjymRcURNtBPJ7rAJjm2dC_HhQFai3kUPwh2faU2Ems2AeUfe_Ip9u1YTU3eafqsQlOwKZ8ckJe9ACCPvkX9Kt6ecXJm7ThO/w640-h640/50-Book-Quotes-40.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-85555515699740394402024-03-07T02:00:00.089-06:002024-03-07T02:00:00.134-06:00The Mrs. Meade Mysteries by Elisabeth Grace Foley<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYs1b6Ptn3Sgf5W83WyqUJJpo9G3obn3N_BDjVluFzH1zLGpGi38GguzAyhFv6EA4I06sXltXfFsAjLqXb13gQgwDmrnZ7_VDhL21Esat-EkcJqbdOEnQ8byUJRtEAGF-re4Qqeiw9vyzL9AIUyzI7BCv97qRcbTuau328hXOdwPRo_Qcujye-L_xyNcXv/s2050/Mrs.%20Meade%20banner.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="2050" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYs1b6Ptn3Sgf5W83WyqUJJpo9G3obn3N_BDjVluFzH1zLGpGi38GguzAyhFv6EA4I06sXltXfFsAjLqXb13gQgwDmrnZ7_VDhL21Esat-EkcJqbdOEnQ8byUJRtEAGF-re4Qqeiw9vyzL9AIUyzI7BCv97qRcbTuau328hXOdwPRo_Qcujye-L_xyNcXv/w640-h244/Mrs.%20Meade%20banner.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Series</h1><div><p class="MsoNormal">Meet Mrs. Meade, a gentle but shrewd widow lady with keen
insight into human nature and a knack for solving mysteries. Puzzles both
quaint and dramatic find her in Sour Springs, a small town in Colorado at the
turn of the twentieth century. If you're a fan of Agatha Christie's Miss Marple
and Anna Katharine Green's Miss Amelia Butterworth, you'll love these quick
trips back to the mountain West of the Edwardian era, each just the perfect
length to accompany a cup of tea or coffee for a cozy afternoon.<o:p></o:p></p>
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<h2 style="text-align: left;">The Silver Shawl</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUji3Tje4aLkv9zjzjp6DuoF6uEYKET22L31mYt3vzXwShaNEaOTvFxK16hPnqBSpEQgIPoKIAqRnyLyXRyKRk50CrIYeX0rlyqPXm3dOxUVEjyDBFDdZnTdWO-51LkWOUOrRqEBrVLpaU-B-Nvl9YThIhmHynZpQuqQubkZgZOD9b_BcpDVIYaYUkXvEB/s525/The%20Silver%20Shawl%20Web-Email.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUji3Tje4aLkv9zjzjp6DuoF6uEYKET22L31mYt3vzXwShaNEaOTvFxK16hPnqBSpEQgIPoKIAqRnyLyXRyKRk50CrIYeX0rlyqPXm3dOxUVEjyDBFDdZnTdWO-51LkWOUOrRqEBrVLpaU-B-Nvl9YThIhmHynZpQuqQubkZgZOD9b_BcpDVIYaYUkXvEB/s320/The%20Silver%20Shawl%20Web-Email.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>In a small town in turn-of-the-century Colorado, a young
woman has disappeared from the boarding-house where she lives. Her distraught
fiancé is certain that she must have been kidnapped. But the case takes a new
turn when a city detective appears on the scene, looking for a woman who
matches the description of the missing girl. Was Charity really kidnapped, or
did she have a reason to flee? Mrs. Meade, a gentle but shrewd widow lady who
lives across the hall in the boarding-house, feels that there is something
wrong with the story of Charity’s disappearance…but can she unravel the mystery
before it is too late?<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">THE SILVER SHAWL is a novelette, approximately 15,700 words.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3wu0pUh" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-silver-shawl-elisabeth-grace-foley/1113106175?ean=2940046049824&st=AFF&2sid=Draft2Digital_7968444_NA&sourceId=AFFDraft2Digital" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> ~~ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-silver-shawl-a-mrs-meade-mystery/id567963050" target="_blank">Apple Books</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-silver-shawl-a-mrs-meade-mystery" target="_blank">Kobo</a> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/241238" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16060672-the-silver-shawl" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><o:p></o:p></p>
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<br /><h2 style="text-align: left;">The Parting Glass</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOwTHE5S8fNR05dQhMBywlNEahsfNvdYLM06JQ2OllozXnm1RuwiAtoRwElWwLeQ-pyCMjZ8g_MJwpFg5gLV_XVvUBTi7tKOMBTjP54wRw1LO11c-YtlHoIZgMpaT3nOHaIMI7KFejAMdv0SpS9TMrMS7DK0UQ5EsrGr3e4hamk7bCjLdwyEI7WqHiReV/s525/The%20Parting%20Glass%20Final%20Cover%20Medium.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOwTHE5S8fNR05dQhMBywlNEahsfNvdYLM06JQ2OllozXnm1RuwiAtoRwElWwLeQ-pyCMjZ8g_MJwpFg5gLV_XVvUBTi7tKOMBTjP54wRw1LO11c-YtlHoIZgMpaT3nOHaIMI7KFejAMdv0SpS9TMrMS7DK0UQ5EsrGr3e4hamk7bCjLdwyEI7WqHiReV/s320/The%20Parting%20Glass%20Final%20Cover%20Medium.png" width="213" /></a></div><br />Mrs. Meade isn't the only one in Sour Springs who is shocked
when Clyde Renfrew is accused of a drunken assault on a woman. Clyde, a sober,
steady young rancher, seemed the last person likely to do such a thing. Between
an emphatic witness and Clyde's puzzling reluctance to defend himself, the case
seems open and shut. But Mrs. Meade—who seems to have a knack for being just
across the hall when things happen—has a few ideas of her own...<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3wu0EPb" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-parting-glass-elisabeth-grace-foley/1116394800?ean=2940045220262&st=AFF&2sid=Draft2Digital_7968444_NA&sourceId=AFFDraft2Digital" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> ~~ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-parting-glass-a-mrs-meade-mystery/id690512870" target="_blank">Apple Books</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-parting-glass-a-mrs-meade-mystery" target="_blank">Kobo</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/346361" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18168114-the-parting-glass" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><o:p></o:p></p>
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<h2 style="text-align: left;">The Oldest Flame</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVy4KSNujhxfXv2RdJPhyphenhyphenC-dwRlp2I7_yNx1kNHRzV6Ik52R8hs0TE2BXGaKHPo2Rzt8mQg7AD5_V1LzyJRtzOMWpeflXmAuO8StlMOX0yx378ZxpXxWCVNayp4JcU66ivWQiXeP7XUViKdxAKBpIaI3k7-QCLpLHUN-v8ua8nKFbEbDQ9vBVQsX01w8W/s525/The%20Oldest%20Flame%20Final%20Cover%20Medium.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVy4KSNujhxfXv2RdJPhyphenhyphenC-dwRlp2I7_yNx1kNHRzV6Ik52R8hs0TE2BXGaKHPo2Rzt8mQg7AD5_V1LzyJRtzOMWpeflXmAuO8StlMOX0yx378ZxpXxWCVNayp4JcU66ivWQiXeP7XUViKdxAKBpIaI3k7-QCLpLHUN-v8ua8nKFbEbDQ9vBVQsX01w8W/s320/The%20Oldest%20Flame%20Final%20Cover%20Medium.png" width="213" /></a></div><br />It was supposed to be a pleasant visit with old friends. But
it turns to terror when a fire destroys the Lansburys' house during the night,
and one of their guests is killed. Even worse, the fire appears to have been
deliberately set. Which of the people who were in the house that night is
responsible? There are several possibilities, and Mrs. Meade is not sure which
is the most distressing...<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/4bUl6sI" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-oldest-flame-elisabeth-grace-foley/1118739508?ean=2940045717847&st=AFF&2sid=Draft2Digital_7968444_NA&sourceId=AFFDraft2Digital" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> ~~ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-oldest-flame-a-mrs-meade-mystery/id828176592" target="_blank">Apple Books</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-oldest-flame-a-mrs-meade-mystery" target="_blank">Kobo</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/412213" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18168117-the-oldest-flame" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><o:p></o:p></p>
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<h2 style="text-align: left;">The Silent Hour</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqQB3itYZgiFkdUg1nmQEfsRjaxCz-FCv0iBucatrNQ6_IoZwGOmUpT5avbw4E3lshhzqTXU8yPDSSCnsuKdfDov4eqY5jEYGPZIS783S2klRhq2e7CWskiJT_T4dClJzDMbNhiYcA5Yw_dydnaaPUSX7s_0FJzaHLSJuwyqSYJnTIZEXz6iG1O8kaqCNT/s800/The%20Silent%20Hour%20eBook%20Cover%20Large.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqQB3itYZgiFkdUg1nmQEfsRjaxCz-FCv0iBucatrNQ6_IoZwGOmUpT5avbw4E3lshhzqTXU8yPDSSCnsuKdfDov4eqY5jEYGPZIS783S2klRhq2e7CWskiJT_T4dClJzDMbNhiYcA5Yw_dydnaaPUSX7s_0FJzaHLSJuwyqSYJnTIZEXz6iG1O8kaqCNT/s320/The%20Silent%20Hour%20eBook%20Cover%20Large.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />Major Cambert and his grandson Jim had quarreled bitterly
over Jim’s choice of a wife, so when the Major is found shot dead by his own
fireside a few nights later, Jim is the prime suspect—and a suspect without an
alibi. But there were others who may have held a grudge against the Major too:
an obnoxious ex-soldier, a sullen ranch hand…and Jim's fiancée. And none of
them can account for their whereabouts during the dark hour when Major Cambert
was murdered. With no other evidence to go on, Mrs. Meade will have to apply
all her wits to discover who is really guilty…<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/49rissN" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-silent-hour-elisabeth-grace-foley/1122692406?ean=2940152366648&st=AFF&2sid=Draft2Digital_7968444_NA&sourceId=AFFDraft2Digital" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> ~~ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-silent-hour-a-mrs-meade-mystery/id1042344855" target="_blank">Apple Books</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-silent-hour-a-mrs-meade-mystery" target="_blank">Kobo</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/579086" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25816481-the-silent-hour" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><o:p></o:p></p>
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<br /><h2 style="text-align: left;">The American Pony</h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHuc4HdSyXlL3wlu7qrB68qv8LdVx7OUOlzw2fZK7v5K1KqigvGwDicqrMWI5lRZb5zA3Q4-AJlxq5_9uGGZXZUILkqrv9XOPU-u3Bd2Ll5U9mcVKYgu82URDLhXsTqg0i9lthaEGTfeQ8Rn9YFPu98_McvWRXxIQGHi2JfoaSIYbix3xMxxHxfqiVYx8o/s750/TheAmericanPonyMedium.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHuc4HdSyXlL3wlu7qrB68qv8LdVx7OUOlzw2fZK7v5K1KqigvGwDicqrMWI5lRZb5zA3Q4-AJlxq5_9uGGZXZUILkqrv9XOPU-u3Bd2Ll5U9mcVKYgu82URDLhXsTqg0i9lthaEGTfeQ8Rn9YFPu98_McvWRXxIQGHi2JfoaSIYbix3xMxxHxfqiVYx8o/s320/TheAmericanPonyMedium.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />It’s summer in Colorado, and Sir Edmund Marsland’s family
are enjoying their visit to the West—though not everyone at the Wellman ranch
is quite as happy with the company of the English family. The mood changes for
the worse when an accident with a horse nearly claims the life of Sir Edmund’s
young son. And with the discovery that someone deliberately caused the
accident, suspicions and tensions divide the party. Was it meant for a
practical joke—or was it for spite—or was there a motive for murder? Mrs. Meade
may be the only guest at the ranch without title or fortune, but she may also
be the only one who can get at the truth…<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3TbLV4p" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-american-pony-elisabeth-grace-foley/1141653079?ean=2940165870736&st=AFF&2sid=Draft2Digital_7968444_NA&sourceId=AFFDraft2Digital" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> ~~ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-american-pony-a-mrs-meade-mystery/id6442978781" target="_blank">Apple Books</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-american-pony-a-mrs-meade-mystery" target="_blank">Kobo</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1151343" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60852162-the-american-pony" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><o:p></o:p></p>
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<h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijC6-adb9u3_ztNAne4Bz2QnQDbftv_IQStS37mFJ8gUlma8D_YF607WWAMuGhAPqXl507wFgeIQLll7zNvEXynNiWpd-MvB0Gz0JlRkRUzUQ4ZUMAu3Mhko6Y6e5xH5vu7ktOI9E96ZVTnEfYyEAZjAHFsfYL9l1uGnKraSZKbfN35cwega7o4Gj0xVNZ/s752/2021authorpic_cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="704" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijC6-adb9u3_ztNAne4Bz2QnQDbftv_IQStS37mFJ8gUlma8D_YF607WWAMuGhAPqXl507wFgeIQLll7zNvEXynNiWpd-MvB0Gz0JlRkRUzUQ4ZUMAu3Mhko6Y6e5xH5vu7ktOI9E96ZVTnEfYyEAZjAHFsfYL9l1uGnKraSZKbfN35cwega7o4Gj0xVNZ/w188-h200/2021authorpic_cropped.jpg" width="188" /></a></div><br />Elisabeth Grace Foley has been an insatiable reader and
eager history buff ever since she learned to read, has been scribbling stories
ever since she learned to write, and now combines those loves in writing
historical fiction. She has been twice nominated for the Western Fictioneers’
Peacemaker Award, and her historical mystery novel LAND OF HILLS AND VALLEYS
was voted into the top ten of Readfree.ly’s 50 Best Indie Books of 2021. When
not reading or writing, she enjoys spending time outdoors, music, crocheting,
and watching sports and old movies. She lives with her family in upstate New
York.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.elisabethgracefoley.com" target="_blank">Website</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.instagram.com/elisabethgfoley" target="_blank">Instagram</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.twitter.com/elisabethgfoley" target="_blank">Twitter (X)</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19442255.Elisabeth_Grace_Foley" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>
~~ <a href="https://subscribepage.io/elisabethgfoley" target="_blank">Newsletter</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/elisabethgfoley" target="_blank">Pinterest</a><o:p></o:p></p>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-87587183481701679752024-03-05T02:00:00.001-06:002024-03-05T02:00:00.237-06:00The Wilderness Trap (Southwest Exposure Mysteries) by Jodi Linton<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoB3jPf38xv-JmOgaTsxWx2wLx8ZYmRs8-nrx3tSgNBn72elooeel4wHgO1bQpheaK53LBM7OCQUtGt3tnJGQPDRsLuWtrF6e3WGwW1DhUvrEfPVxELX8RycyCKSkVQWHwtFIDRe9NeGzr6IxK96beZPX2Zbs50aDID-79drPHRRX32OI8acrhOAU2Zv0/s820/THE%20WILDERNESS%20TRAP%20BANNER%20820.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="820" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoB3jPf38xv-JmOgaTsxWx2wLx8ZYmRs8-nrx3tSgNBn72elooeel4wHgO1bQpheaK53LBM7OCQUtGt3tnJGQPDRsLuWtrF6e3WGwW1DhUvrEfPVxELX8RycyCKSkVQWHwtFIDRe9NeGzr6IxK96beZPX2Zbs50aDID-79drPHRRX32OI8acrhOAU2Zv0/w640-h306/THE%20WILDERNESS%20TRAP%20BANNER%20820.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;"><b>About the Book</b></h1><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoobjFGdWIB4WevTyTfsEPF7bNO2Ffgb4VZBtk4ykDc3tYBVcSHUxtCr1t_e8WYNXBt8UNokdT0Kbtcl_7ZefsPSFrMAysEgq57h9kYCjDm_wkWt0yKdcpCGCrjgi4afJgz1LGyEKiI3RUimwqX6Xyd7vi6pP6KQ8m1-aP_V2jZFz-EI_r3JJJcMLaKIZd/s2400/WildernessTrap.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1575" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoobjFGdWIB4WevTyTfsEPF7bNO2Ffgb4VZBtk4ykDc3tYBVcSHUxtCr1t_e8WYNXBt8UNokdT0Kbtcl_7ZefsPSFrMAysEgq57h9kYCjDm_wkWt0yKdcpCGCrjgi4afJgz1LGyEKiI3RUimwqX6Xyd7vi6pP6KQ8m1-aP_V2jZFz-EI_r3JJJcMLaKIZd/s320/WildernessTrap.jpg" width="210" /></a></b></div><b>Explore nature, where the outdoors are wild, the tourists
are clueless, and murder is the new adventure.</b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Andie Sullivan never thought her old nemesis would be
running the elementary school career day. She was supposed to be discussing the
wonders of nature, but when questions arise about her crime-solving side gig,
some of the locals aren't impressed.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But when career day turns into an actual murder, Andie finds
herself on the case. And to make matters worse, the victim is her old nemesis.
With the help of her hunky boyfriend, Sheriff Zac Mars, Andie dives into the
investigation, determined to find the killer before they strike again.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Can she juggle her thriving outdoor business, her budding
relationship with Zac, and find an elusive killer? Or will her pursuit of the
truth lead her straight into the crosshairs of a ruthless killer.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/4bUF5Yf" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> ~~ <a href="https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/uk/dualbookshelf.marketplacelink/B0CL34N9JJ" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> ~~ <a href="https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/ca/dualbookshelf.marketplacelink/B0CL34N9JJ" target="_blank">Amazon CA</a> ~~ <a href="https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/au/dualbookshelf.marketplacelink/B0CL34N9JJ" target="_blank">Amazon AU</a><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/199775860-the-wilderness-trap" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></p>
<div><br /></div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqKrvpwNFzTRnUm4i-kepHgTCbPPyY1RDrwAXB9okzd4J3XTErsRWKM3bHfxfoMsb_AJRanNE6Pji9sis0ohj65-pGfyD6yn0bCAUqIRjY8wuRxtU7Zu77LU0gampr0bOSa4KfQCb-WSpT7ism-U0o_iND-fbuWDPyzZDBStVjtupo5jP9S7zNi1UnmbP/s509/jodi%20linton%202%20cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="509" data-original-width="335" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqKrvpwNFzTRnUm4i-kepHgTCbPPyY1RDrwAXB9okzd4J3XTErsRWKM3bHfxfoMsb_AJRanNE6Pji9sis0ohj65-pGfyD6yn0bCAUqIRjY8wuRxtU7Zu77LU0gampr0bOSa4KfQCb-WSpT7ism-U0o_iND-fbuWDPyzZDBStVjtupo5jP9S7zNi1UnmbP/w132-h200/jodi%20linton%202%20cropped.jpg" width="132" /></a></div><br />USA Today Bestselling author<b> Jodi Linton</b> pens funny
romances, whodunnits, and thrillers. She is the author of the Southwest
Exposure Cozy Mystery Series, The Deputy Laney Briggs Series, and several
standalone romances. She lives in the city with her husband and two teens. When
she isn't writing her next page-turner, she teaches and hikes.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://jodilintonbooks.com" target="_blank">Website</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JodiLintonBooks/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jodi-linton" target="_blank">BookBub</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><h1 style="text-align: center;">Giveaway</h1></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="028877921629" data-template="56d5f80dbc544fb30fda66f0" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/028877921629/" id="rcwidget_fscbvfc2" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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With Dollycas Into A Good Book</a> – REVIEW, AUTHOR GUEST POST</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
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</div>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-31694514088337522252024-03-03T02:00:00.013-06:002024-03-03T02:00:00.236-06:00Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles by Elizabeth Crowens<div style="text-align: center;">
<h2><a href="https://partnersincrimetours.com/hounds-of-the-hollywood-baskervilles-crowens/" title="Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles by Elizabeth Crowens"><img alt="Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles by Elizabeth Crowens Banner" class="aligncenter size-full" height="338" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/hounds-of-the-hollywood-baskervilles-crowens-banner-.png" width="600" /></a></h2></div>
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<h2>Synopsis:</h2>
<div style="float: left; margin-right: 15px; width: 225px;"><img alt="Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles by Elizabeth Crowens" border="0" height="300" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/hounds-of-the-hollywood-baskervilles-crowens-cover-web.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="200" /></div>
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<p>“Sherlock Holmes has lost his dog? We have bigger crimes to solve. Go find him yourself!” That’s what the Los Angeles Police Department told Basil Rathbone. The City Pound ridiculed him as well.</p>
<p>Asta, the dog from the popular <em>Thin Man</em> series, has also vanished, and production for his next film is pending. MGM Studios offers a huge reward, and that’s exactly what young private detectives Babs Norman and Guy Brandt need for their struggling business to survive. Celebrity dognapping now a growing trend, Basil also hires them to find his missing Cocker Spaniel.</p>
<p>The three concoct a plan for Basil to assume his on-screen persona and round up possible suspects, including Myrna Loy and William Powell; Dashiell Hammett, creator of <em>The Thin Man</em>; Nigel Bruce, Basil’s on-screen Doctor Watson; Hollywood-newcomer, German philanthropist and film financier Countess Velma von Rache, and the top animal trainers in Tinseltown. Yet everyone will be in for a shock when the real reason behind the canine disappearances is even more sinister than imagined.</p>
<p>Jump into <em>Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles</em>, Book One of the Babs Norman Golden Age of Hollywood Mystery series, Finalist in the Killer Nashville Claymore Awards for Comedy and First Prize winner in the Chanticleer Review’s Mark Twain Awards for Comedy and Satire.</p>
<h5>Get ready for its sequel, <em>Bye, Bye, Blackbird</em>, featuring Humphrey Bogart and the cast of <em>The Maltese Falcon</em>.</h5><!--wp:spacer /-->
<h3>Praise for <i>Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles</i>:</h3>
<p>"I heartily enjoyed Elizabeth Crowens latest book <em><strong>HOUNDS OF THE HOLLYWOOD BASKERVILLES</strong></em>. This comedy-mystery is set during the golden age of Hollywood. Crowens’ detectives, Babs Norman and Guy Brandt, believe the case (involving dognapping and other nefarious doings) could put them on the map—especially with a star client like Basil Rathbone and suspects such as Myrna Loy, William Powell, Nigel Bruce, Dashiell Hammett, Lillian Hellman—and more. A nice look behind the scenes of the dream factory known as MGM and Hollywood in its glory days with a delicious whodunit with witty repartee to boot. This book is a real winner." <br /><span style="color: #c3ba2a; margin-left: 40px;">~ Charles Tranberg, author of <em>MURDER OVER COCKTAILS: THE THIN MAN FILMS</em></span></p>
<p>"Move over, Holmes and Watson. Stand aside, Nick and Nora Charles. Make room for PI Babs Norman and her Guy Friday, Guy Brandt! Author Elizabeth Crowens deftly combines humor, excitement, and epic name-dropping in this entertaining adventure set in Hollywood’s Golden Age." <br /><span style="color: #c3ba2a; margin-left: 40px;">~ Carla Coupe, editor of <em>Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine</em>, member of the Adventuresses of Sherlock Holmes and The Baker Street Irregulars</span></p>
<p>"Elizabeth Crowens’ <em>Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles</em> is a thrilling and hilarious romp through the days of Old Hollywood. If you ever wanted to jump into the screen and spend time with Nick Charles and Sherlock Holmes, this is the next best thing. I, for one, can’t wait for more adventures with Babs and Guy! Delightful!" <br /><span style="color: #c3ba2a; margin-left: 40px;">~ Phoef Sutton, Emmy Award-winning producer of <em>Cheers</em>, author of the Crush novels, and co-host of the <em>Film Freaks Forever</em> podcast</span></p>
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<blockquote class="details" style="margin: 20px; padding: 20px;">
<h3>Book Details:</h3>
<p><b>Genre:</b> Golden Age of Hollywood Humorous Mystery <br /><b>Published by:</b> Level Best Books<br /><b>Publication Date:</b> March 2024 <br /><b>Number of Pages:</b> 299<br /><b>Series:</b> A Babs Norman Hollywood Mystery, Book 1<br /><b>Book Links:</b> <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/uZrMB" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/mGh0H" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Kindle</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/TsSyN" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></p>
</blockquote>
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<h3>Read an excerpt:</h3>
<div class="excerpt" style="border: 3px groove 800000; height: 250px; margin: 20px; overflow: auto; padding: 20px;">
<h4>Chapter 1</h4>
<h6>Flea Circus Hollywood, 1940</h6>
<p>Babs bundled Miss Marple in a beach towel. Otherwise, she would get clawed. Her disgruntled partner flinched from fleabites while holding a box of kittens. She looked around the vet’s waiting room to see if she recognized anyone, but all she noticed were an unknown house frau with a French-cut Miniature Poodle, a uniformed nurse with a Cocker Spaniel, and a frumpy elder with a Shirley Temple hopeful hugging her Saint Bernard.</p>
<p>The front door flew open, revealing a tall, thin, but athletic gentleman with his chestnut hair slicked back. His striking profile rivaled classic sculptures, except for the sweat which dripped down his forehead. Under one arm were photostat flyers. Under the other, a folded-up copy of Daily Variety. Both featured photos of dogs.</p>
<p>Guy poked Babs in the ribs to get her attention. “Recognize him?”</p>
<p>She observed the newcomer, who explained his dilemma in haste to the assistant, but most of what Babs could see was from behind. “Who?”</p>
<p>“Rathbone…Basil Rathbone.”</p>
<p>“The actor who plays Sherlock Holmes?”</p>
<p>“Shush. Don’t advertise it to everyone on Sunset Boulevard.”</p>
<p>In a whisper, he disclosed the highlights of the actor’s resume. “That, and Captain Blood, A Tale of Two Cities, Great Expectations, and more, not to mention quite a bit of theater. If we keep it discreet, maybe we can find out why he’s here.”</p>
<p>Basil approached the lady with the cocker and asked if he could scratch him under his chin. “Such a handsome boy. My Leo looks a lot like him, except his coat is a deep red rather than brown.”</p>
<p>He pointed to the bulletin board with listings for lost pets and adoptions and handed the front desk assistant his entire stack. “I’ll have more printed. Please give them to all of your clients. If I can’t find my poor Leo, I don’t know what I’ll do.”</p>
<p>Babs saw this as an opportunity to get acquainted. She sprang from her seat, clutching the hissing fuzzball wrapped like a jellyroll. “Maybe I can help in your search.”</p>
<p>Basil narrowed his eyes. “Do I know you?”</p>
<p>“Babs Norman.” She attempted to extend her hand for a proper introduction, but struggled with the snarling feline. “Cast as an extra in The Adventures of Robin Hood.”</p>
<p>“Ah…with Errol Flynn, in the days when the studios always had me play the villain.”</p>
<p>She gleaned from the subtle shift on his face he didn’t care for his co-star.</p>
<p>He eyed her with sudden skepticism. “Refresh my memory. What scene were you in? Almost all parts were male.”</p>
<p>“When Sir Robin of Locksley revealed to Maid Marion that he saved the lives of desperate villagers. I played a peasant wife, but my back was toward the camera.”</p>
<p>“What a shame,” Basil said.</p>
<p>Babs blushed. “I used to be an actress, but not anymore.”</p>
<p>“What do you consider yourself now?” Basil asked.</p>
<p>The vet’s assistant came between them. “Miss, maybe he desires privacy.” He ignored Babs and asked Basil. “Sir, have you filed a report with the pound?”</p>
<p>“I tried, but I have little faith they can help. Everyone laughed and said, ‘Sherlock Holmes has lost his dog!’”</p>
<p>Babs cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. First, she addressed the rude assistant. “Excuse me, but you interrupted us before I could answer his question.” Then she turned to Basil. “The reason I’m no longer an actress is now I’m a private investigator. The gentleman next to me is my associate, Guy Brandt.”</p>
<p>Basil dismissed the employee’s well-meaning intervention. “Such an odd transition from acting. What compelled you to get into that business?”</p>
<p>She lowered her head. “It’s a long story.” He didn’t need to know the truth about her father’s murder. “I also have an acute talent for finding things, whether they are people…or pets.”</p>
<p>“You have an actual private investigator’s license?” Basil asked.</p>
<p>“In my purse.” She tried to fish it out while wrestling with the cat, who broke free from her grasp. Between Guy and another staff member, they corralled the anxious tabby into a handheld cage.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry.” Babs looked around at the bedlam of barking dogs. “This stray doesn’t want to nurse her kits, and I think she has—”</p>
<p>“Fleas.” Basil scratched his arms. “Looks like we’re both having kittens.”</p>
<p>She also felt an oncoming rash. “Come again?”</p>
<p>“Ha! It’s a peculiar old English expression. People believed a witch’s curse caused painful pregnancies, but instead of a child, they thought the woman had kittens inside her, clawing to get out. Since I’m not expectant, it shows my uncomfortable position in more ways than one.”</p>
<p>Babs flushed; aware this was an awkward introduction for a potential client. Meanwhile, staff members brought the kittens into the back for examination.</p>
<p>She plucked her ID and her business card out of her purse. “B. Norman, Investigations. In case you need proof.”</p>
<p>He put down his copy of Daily Variety to accept her card. Babs swiped his tabloid, attracted by a photo of another dog on its cover.</p>
<p>“Someone else’s dog is missing.” Babs read the article out loud. “Skippy, the wire-haired Fox Terrier known as Asta in the Thin Man movies, has vanished. Production is supposed to start on the next film featuring the lovable detectives Nick and Nora Charles. A one-thousand-dollar reward. No questions asked.”</p>
<p>Guy whistled. “That’s one hefty jackpot.”</p>
<p>Basil looked at her business card one more time. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’ll match that for the return of my red cocker. My wife will think I’m insane. I was offering one hundred.” He showed them his flyers. “For you, as professionals, I guess I’ll make an exception, since now it looks like I have serious competition from producers with studio funds. Is that enough of an incentive?”</p>
<p>“Our agency is on Hollywood Boulevard, close to La Brea,” she said with a confident smile.</p>
<p>“Let’s say I stop over tomorrow on the way to the studio. Perhaps I should trust your expertise if you say you’re so good with animals.”</p>
<p>Babs nodded and forced herself to contain her excitement. “Sir, do you mind if I borrow your newspaper?”</p>
<p>“Keep it,” Basil said. He handed her both his copy of Daily Variety and several of his flyers.</p>
<p>After he left, she turned to her partner. “Who says we can’t go after both Asta or Skippy and Leo?”</p>
<p>The vet returned with the verdict. “There’s no doubt your adult cat has a case of fleas, which might have also infested your furniture. The kittens are another matter. They’re too young to eat food on their own. The obvious issue you overlooked is the adult is not their mama, because she’s a he. Not so obvious with his long and thick matted fur. That’s why he wouldn’t nurse the little ones.”</p>
<p>Babs turned red. “I can’t believe I was so caught up in the moment that I overlooked something that simple.”</p>
<p>“A coincidence, I’m afraid. You must’ve put two and two together when you found this fellow near a box of abandoned kittens,” the vet explained. “The newborns will need around-the-clock attention, and Old Tom will need a few flea baths before he’s ready to go back to anyone’s home.”</p>
<p>Babs grimaced. She looked at Guy and then back toward the vet. “Can’t play nursemaid while running a business.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry.” The vet reassured her. “Leave them here. My staff will handle it. We’ll find good homes for all of them.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Excerpt from <i>Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles</i> by Elizabeth Crowens. Copyright 2023 by Elizabeth Crowens. Reproduced with permission from Elizabeth Crowens. All rights reserved.</p>
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<p> </p>
<h2>Author Bio:</h2>
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOs-pnz9xPRIS7OTzAZwndECKQqW2PWY_J7Rr_lyeLShB82As99nqQE5K48wUJEd0WaVzghiab4y5ty12kgwmiVpbvmKs_AIvDfmWNz_OGERzMP-Ao5OB4uQqdvirSi5uvIABSWeyzetI2fGB8ISo-kE43FCUf3MaYbf2eYoNHBOJkKsrelZVx9h5xo__A/s227/hounds-of-the-hollywood-baskervilles-crowens--author.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="227" data-original-width="203" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOs-pnz9xPRIS7OTzAZwndECKQqW2PWY_J7Rr_lyeLShB82As99nqQE5K48wUJEd0WaVzghiab4y5ty12kgwmiVpbvmKs_AIvDfmWNz_OGERzMP-Ao5OB4uQqdvirSi5uvIABSWeyzetI2fGB8ISo-kE43FCUf3MaYbf2eYoNHBOJkKsrelZVx9h5xo__A/w179-h200/hounds-of-the-hollywood-baskervilles-crowens--author.jpg" width="179" /></a></div><br />Elizabeth Crowens has worn many hats in the entertainment industry and has a popular Caption Contest on Facebook. She has three award-winning alternate history novels. Awards include 2020 Leo B. Burstein Scholarship from the MWA-NY Chapter, New York Foundation of the Arts grant, an Eric Hoffer Award, Honorable Mention in the Glimmer Train Awards, and two grand prize and five first prize Chanticleer Awards, including Hounds of the Hollywood Baskervilles, the first in her Babs Norman Hollywood series, which is also a Killer Nashville Claymore Awards finalist and part of her three-book publishing deal with Level Best Books<p></p>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-64688486688863384022024-03-02T02:00:00.001-06:002024-03-02T02:00:00.144-06:00Saturday Quote<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOK8Zr7fBZdr8PvwwZDBo1tjUfzYoD88OBhGElOlA0HYkXtEbswTtGRAwPe12N6eLEsfkJHQfoO8zJ7XRJbyg_yLZTfZhNUwKK0MDJJLk2gZlGiuEwuNCE-J0XUpP0DiDzyZ47CPGy-LL_w4El2cQQhoTdzjbTKRRj7UZl8UU08Tjutls0wW-qULIUzn0/s700/50-Book-Quotes-38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOK8Zr7fBZdr8PvwwZDBo1tjUfzYoD88OBhGElOlA0HYkXtEbswTtGRAwPe12N6eLEsfkJHQfoO8zJ7XRJbyg_yLZTfZhNUwKK0MDJJLk2gZlGiuEwuNCE-J0XUpP0DiDzyZ47CPGy-LL_w4El2cQQhoTdzjbTKRRj7UZl8UU08Tjutls0wW-qULIUzn0/w640-h640/50-Book-Quotes-38.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-30251274110399930412024-02-29T02:00:00.001-06:002024-02-29T02:00:00.131-06:00A Cookie to Die For by Kira Seamon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOYbCfphRqFLN7MIEJktNcqEnURbx9sRbZtgEAnG2-CxNydVxFwdPVogeFp8tm1lHPUmCWgcWbh7J1b0bZ1-MkHUSfmSoqpLflYPQnG_eEXq70BLXZ4106tTBSAwpWf-jKFBVJ6UnrGWDa-kNhrMChEs2yIapYzzjY2k0kvH0uMzT5Qa5pGWBlUvk6sic/s800/Cookie.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOYbCfphRqFLN7MIEJktNcqEnURbx9sRbZtgEAnG2-CxNydVxFwdPVogeFp8tm1lHPUmCWgcWbh7J1b0bZ1-MkHUSfmSoqpLflYPQnG_eEXq70BLXZ4106tTBSAwpWf-jKFBVJ6UnrGWDa-kNhrMChEs2yIapYzzjY2k0kvH0uMzT5Qa5pGWBlUvk6sic/w640-h320/Cookie.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Book</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07AauBDSZB38c6He7lGJwSbaKrQkFCbyT8DT5p-Vh3LU-ZZ22iOvrOMyHA33FkI7I4Y_Y20L220QKgLz7rf3kM2h67IB9KZSf-6y6AbL4BZMcSoCAAiRjw9x_FyxGMTa4iK263GL_vLuRwgXaZCh-V0D8fzygWYAJLaG_QBDc5X3VTGxv5cKuzoVosvKi/s2560/Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi07AauBDSZB38c6He7lGJwSbaKrQkFCbyT8DT5p-Vh3LU-ZZ22iOvrOMyHA33FkI7I4Y_Y20L220QKgLz7rf3kM2h67IB9KZSf-6y6AbL4BZMcSoCAAiRjw9x_FyxGMTa4iK263GL_vLuRwgXaZCh-V0D8fzygWYAJLaG_QBDc5X3VTGxv5cKuzoVosvKi/s320/Cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Charming, heartwarming cozy mystery novella from
award-winning author Kira Seamon. Heather Moore has just picked a huge basket
of her own peaches for neighbor Graham Barclay, but when she walks over to
deliver them to him, she walks into a crime scene! When Charlotte, Graham's
stunning white Persian indoor cat suddenly leaps into her arms from the bushes,
she knows something is very wrong . . . dead wrong! Just as she's puzzling all
this out, Graham's granddaughter, Madeleine, pulls up lame in his driveway -
with a car that has overheated and won't drive any further.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">While breaking the news to Madeleine about her grandfather's
death, Heather gets drawn into the Barclay family secrets and nothing is as it
appears. Madeleine is going into hiding and needs a secluded place to stay.
Heather has just the place for her. Meanwhile, other townspeople keep coming up
to her with more and more suspicious news about that family and Heather decides
that she better start an investigation of her own. Graham's cookie empire looks
like it's crumbling to pieces as it is attacked from all sides . . . and even
worse . . . it seems that he may have taken his famous cookie recipe to the
grave with him! Can Heather chip away at the evidence and milk her sources to
save the day? Suspects are lining up in her mind and she knows someone will be
caught with their hand in the cookie jar.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Become charmed by the cute pets in this story, including
Blossom, Heather's loyal and adorable pug dog, and Charlotte, the Barclay
family's brave cat. Smile as Heather finds one creative way after another to
keep ahead of all the incoming news as she pieces together what happened and
finds justice for Madeleine. This sparkling, fast-paced novella will warm your
heart and entertain you.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/49f8GKn" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/205422224-a-cookie-to-die-for" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">Excerpt</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“How is your daughter Ginger, and what did I just hear you
say about Graham’s cookies? Unavailable everywhere? How can that be?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Heather posed her questions to Coco even as she got out her
smartphone and started researching the world-famous graham cracker cookies that
Graham Barclay’s company was known for. <i>Graham’s Grahams</i> was
founded by Shellesby’s most famous resident using a secret recipe
that purportedly only he knew. He put chocolate chips in his graham
crackers, but that wasn’t what made them special. There
was apparently a hefty dose of a rare honey that was credited with
their addictive appeal, but no one knew which type of honey he used. His cookie
recipe was constantly attempted by other companies and home bakers
alike, but no one could ever make the same delicious goodness that was a <i>Graham Graham</i>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Unavailable, as in out-of-stock everywhere! Check out his
website. It says there is a supply-chain issue.” Coco shook her head in dismay
and her tightly curled brown hair danced about her face. Heather visited the
company’s website to duly see that across the front of the homepage in all
capital letters was the message that the cookies were unavailable for the time
being.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Wow, that is surprising. Let’s talk more
- I’ll be right outside!” Heather said as Coco went to the kitchen to
pick up another diner’s order, served it to the customer, and then went outside
to Heather’s table with a solemn expression.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Have you heard the day’s other big news? Graham’s
cookies aren’t the only things . . . um . . .
out-of-stock. He’s apparently ‘out-of-stock' too. Graham was found
dead this morning!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Heather decided to not divulge to Coco that
she found his body, so she could perhaps learn more about
what happened. “Yes, I heard! I am heartbroken - it is such bad news.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I have heard that Graham was being blackmailed by his
business partner and that Graham was in the process of dissolving the
partnership. I wonder if that had something to do with the death?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Who was his partner?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Wellington Davis . . . Olivia, the front desk manager over
at the All-Seasons hotel, texted me that a certain Wellington Davis checked in
recently. Apparently, he flew in from NYC last night.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Really? Do you know why the partnership was on the rocks?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, I heard from a customer who sat on the same board as
Wellington, that he wanted a much bigger stake in the company than he currently
had. I think Graham was being pressured by him to give him 75% of his
entire business empire.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“75%!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I hear it was even worse. I think Wellington also
wanted to have Graham sign over his mansion on Blueberry Lane to him instead of
it going to his granddaughter, as was intended.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Heather’s mind was reeling, and she felt her thoughts
whirling around in her head as fast as the wind gusts she was being subjected
to.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Are you still OK out here, or do you want to move inside?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m fine. I prefer the wind to that terrible
thunderstorm we had last night.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, me too,” Coco said as she quickly slipped back inside
and returned with an enticingly warm giant oatmeal-raisin cookie on a delicate
bone china plate. She also brought a small teapot and filled
Heather’s cup of tea.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“That is a bombshell indeed! That Wellington fellow sounds
like he was strong-arming Graham from every angle.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“That’s what my sources tell me,” Coco said as she jumped as
she felt a text enter her phone along with the accompanying beep. “Hold on
here, another text from Olivia!” Coco pulled out her phone from her back
pocket, intensely scanned the text, and scrolled hurriedly.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“She says Wellington came to the lobby and asked her if the
hotel had a safe. He said he has an important document he needs to safeguard
while he’s there.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I wonder what else he has up his sleeve?” Heather’s mind
was trying to do an inventory of all the potential suspects and motives for the
murder of Graham Barclay. She knew in this small town, a murder like
this didn’t just happen; there must have been a reason for it. <i>And
I will get to the bottom of this and find justice for Graham, </i>she
thought<i>. </i>A niggly feeling made her feel uneasy<i>. I just feel like
I am forgetting a detail or something, but I don’t know what it is.
Oh well, maybe it will come back to me, </i>she hoped<i>.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BY7jz4tgv2Qmw_5xHC9nt-FPxGd4g2jQKeSe0_mDHuWKrFGQKXPEtbdkAp4ZC83wfg52CQyw2q1thRwQo9bmruaJqVNK30zkYVqr4R2OP-kO1GgLSEfSOzvGjWhUe4P94D3Ja41qYUbYWaDsOOJ0bRvN1iO9XttoFnvfZeM1H-LqLArX9iDX3F06_d64/s833/Artist%20in%20Bloom%20(5).PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="833" data-original-width="621" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BY7jz4tgv2Qmw_5xHC9nt-FPxGd4g2jQKeSe0_mDHuWKrFGQKXPEtbdkAp4ZC83wfg52CQyw2q1thRwQo9bmruaJqVNK30zkYVqr4R2OP-kO1GgLSEfSOzvGjWhUe4P94D3Ja41qYUbYWaDsOOJ0bRvN1iO9XttoFnvfZeM1H-LqLArX9iDX3F06_d64/w149-h200/Artist%20in%20Bloom%20(5).PNG" width="149" /></a></div><br />Kira Seamon is an award-winning author and earned FIRST
PLACE in the 2022 Winter Pinnacle Book Awards in Romance, FIRST PLACE in the
2022 Royal Dragonfly Book Awards in Romance, FIRST PLACE in the 2022 BookFest
Awards in Humorous, FINALIST in the 2022 Book Excellence Awards in Romance,
SECOND PLACE in the 2022 Bookfest Awards in Girls & Women, SILVER AWARD in
the 2022 Literary Titan Book Awards, SILVER MEDAL in the 2022 Global Book
Awards, BRONZE MEDAL in the 2022 Readers' Favorite Book Awards, and HONORABLE
MENTION in the 2022 BookFest Awards in Coming of Age categories. She writes
under her real name, Kira Seamon, and her pen name, Krista Lockheart. Her cozy
mysteries are filled with characters with her signature charm, kindness, and
furry pets! She lives in New London, CT.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorkiraseamon/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authorkiraseamon/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> ~~ <a href="https://twitter.com/KiraSeamon" target="_blank">Twitter (X)</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21723842.Kira_Seamon" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>
~~ <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@authorkristalockheart" target="_blank">TikTok</a></p></div>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-51381672947447840212024-02-27T02:00:00.001-06:002024-02-27T02:00:00.245-06:00PASSPORT TO SPY by Nancy Cole Silverman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDprm4Qa3Nxlkbn1WNQ5Jjd-AYAMyB86vEGGk3PLDSpgKXVQvZ2umj_UqqfFPRsBOPOQgl5rjD1sHtV3VeGbky5FDC1TclBjS2-36iR40C1-WdDCXRiM1p3fKEvg1H83FG9QIUApKi4ghweMaF9EnKPq0TvLESYvOE08H6TknzKxzmCg3KFnthxkSfpo2/s800/Passport.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDprm4Qa3Nxlkbn1WNQ5Jjd-AYAMyB86vEGGk3PLDSpgKXVQvZ2umj_UqqfFPRsBOPOQgl5rjD1sHtV3VeGbky5FDC1TclBjS2-36iR40C1-WdDCXRiM1p3fKEvg1H83FG9QIUApKi4ghweMaF9EnKPq0TvLESYvOE08H6TknzKxzmCg3KFnthxkSfpo2/w640-h320/Passport.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Book</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXT2Au4JgtyN7OYDoe-Umn8YpaIMfDg7P-N91g6TdqvK412g8dNPM9dEAb-91s6KlD2YTQSGjLqJ0REAa4eeQ0KMSEjQyKPe_erQ9IynMwtYBhwcbHCkiOtHZFASWXEz5b2AqQ43Ok8tuDk6J_qA-D20xnQf-FHZmOuMXAW0JHYaK3weXIUz6xxknKp7A/s2000/PASSPORT%20TO%20SPY%20cover%20concept%203%20(002).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXT2Au4JgtyN7OYDoe-Umn8YpaIMfDg7P-N91g6TdqvK412g8dNPM9dEAb-91s6KlD2YTQSGjLqJ0REAa4eeQ0KMSEjQyKPe_erQ9IynMwtYBhwcbHCkiOtHZFASWXEz5b2AqQ43Ok8tuDk6J_qA-D20xnQf-FHZmOuMXAW0JHYaK3weXIUz6xxknKp7A/s320/PASSPORT%20TO%20SPY%20cover%20concept%203%20(002).jpg" width="213" /></a></div>After losing her job as an investigative reporter for The
Phoenix Gazette, Kat Lawson has a new gig. The FBI has asked her to work
undercover as a reporter for Journey International to cover Munich, Germany's
festive holiday scene-an excuse to get close to Hans von Hausmann, a very
charismatic and popular museum curator suspected of hiding a cache of stolen
masterpieces believed to be part of the World's Largest Art Heist. The job
comes with lots of perks: airfare, travel expenses, the opportunity to see the
world...and for a seasoned reporter like Kat, nothing she can't handle. But,
when a trusted source is found dead, Kat realizes the tables have been turned.
Armed with evidence that will expose a cache of artwork stolen from museums and
the homes of wealthy Jews during the 2nd World War, Kat must find a way to
avoid being caught by the German Polizie, who have enough evidence to charge
her with murder, and those who want her dead to keep their hidden treasures
forever secret. The hunter has become the hunted; now, Kat has a target on her
back.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3uBbGl5" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/passport-to-spy-nancy-cole-silverman/1143540080?ean=9781685123277" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123195564-passport-to-spy?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=GI0MVdmboM&rank=1" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/passport-to-spy-a-kat-lawson-mystery-by-nancy-cole-silverman" target="_blank">BookBub</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">Excerpt</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">CHAPTER 1<br /><i>December 1999<br /></i><i>Munich, Germany</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As a journalist, I know better than to insert myself into
the center of a news story. Especially when reporting on a murder. Getting into
the middle of an investigation could have serious consequences. I could end up
dead. That’s what I kept telling myself as I hid from my would-be assassin as
he searched for my whereabouts on the icy Alpine slopes south of Munich. I had
taken a chance and now had nobody to blame except myself. Let me start at the
beginning of my story, where, hopefully, I can explain why I had a target on my
back, and what I needed to do about it. My name is Kat Lawson, and up until a
year ago, I had worked as an investigative reporter for the <i>Phoenix
Gazette, </i>which had dismissed me because of an inappropriate workplace
relationship with my boss. Him, they kept—me, they fired. Which might explain
how I found myself working for <i>Journey International</i>, a travel
publication and a front for the FBI. An excuse for the bureau to send select
journalists undercover to retrieve information and pass it along.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My assignment was simple enough. I was to go to Munich,
Germany, to meet with Hans von Hausmann and his sister, Erika Schönburg,
celebrity curators for The Gerhardt Galerie, a new museum featuring a mixture
of old-world masters and modern art. The Galerie was preparing for a show featuring <i>Fruits
on the Table with a Small Dog </i>by Paul Gauguin, a French
postimpressionist. According to my FBI handler, Sophie Brill, an art historian and
holocaust survivor, the painting had been stolen in 1970 from a private gallery
in London and recently bought by an American collector who, upon hearing about
the unveiling, feared he had been duped.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The painting had an estimated value of between 10 and 30
million Euros. One of several the collector had bought over the years from
Viktor Sokolov, a Russian art dealer specializing in finding rare works of art.
But, when the collector heard about the unveiling of the same painting in
Germany, he immediately contacted Sokolov and told him of his concern. Sokolov assured
his American collector that he had nothing to worry about. Yes, the Gauguin had
once been stolen but later found and returned to its original owner in London.
However, the owner, happy to have <i>Fruits on the Table </i>back on
his walls, now wanted to sell it so that he might expand his collection and
asked Sokolov if he could find a buyer. Which the Russian was happy to do.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As for the Gauguin about to be unveiled in Munich, Sokolov
assured his client the museum had no doubt purchased a fake and was probably
none the wiser—and if they were—they weren’t about to say anything. Whether the
Gerhardt Galerie was involved in shady dealings, the FBI had no proof and,
along with Interpol, had agreed to investigate any possible connections Hans or
his sister Erika might have a link to organized crime. My job was to go to
Munich, attend the unveiling, introduce myself to Hans and Erika as a reporter
working for <i>Journey International, </i>and snoop around. Since I
had no connections to the art world and was a new face for the Germans,
everyone agreed I was a good fit for the assignment.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What I <i>wasn’t </i>supposed to do, at least as
far as the Germans were concerned, was to physically interfere with Interpol’s
investigation of Viktor Sokolov, of which I had no problem—thugs are not my
thing. And secondly, and even more important, I was not to publicly expose what
the FBI and those in the art world suspected was Gerhardt’s Hoard, a hidden
cache of masterpieces lost during the 2nd World War that Hans and his
sister were suspected of hiding and using them to finance their wealthy
lifestyle. If that sounded odd, Sophie suggested I consider Gerhardt’s Hoard
from the German’s point of view. The war had ended better than fifty years ago,
and any rumblings, much less proof of Gerhardt’s Hoard today would be an
uncomfortable reminder of the German atrocities—a situation the Germans were
anxious to avoid.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02IZf5DeFhk61qx8KKLbhhso-Ra1oiACFCedB5fgnjlU1_uCJNU3xbxoEDbXg14fOMPeEWdKmEke-KeRHSpoIhtefFWiYc9G7I2zOy1-DEl2PzZq8w2ozEhJFiKbGYjRJiCKMH-hXy8VUkOr2bFsEQddnb7-Vv7CjvlrCQbwsJcRuc1oXBB59wqB_O2Qd/s1800/Nancy%20cheers!.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02IZf5DeFhk61qx8KKLbhhso-Ra1oiACFCedB5fgnjlU1_uCJNU3xbxoEDbXg14fOMPeEWdKmEke-KeRHSpoIhtefFWiYc9G7I2zOy1-DEl2PzZq8w2ozEhJFiKbGYjRJiCKMH-hXy8VUkOr2bFsEQddnb7-Vv7CjvlrCQbwsJcRuc1oXBB59wqB_O2Qd/w160-h200/Nancy%20cheers!.jpg" width="160" /></a></div><br />After twenty-five years in news and talk radio, Nancy Cole
Silverman retired to write fiction. Her Carol Childs Mysteries features a
single mom whose day job as a reporter at an LA radio station often leads to
long nights solving crimes. Her Misty Dawn series is centered on an aging
Hollywood Psychic to the Stars, who supplements her day-to-day activities as a
consultant to the LAPD. Silverman’s newest series, The Kat Lawson Mysteries, is
centered on a disgraced investigative reporter who finds herself working for an
international travel publication as an undercover agent for the FBI.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.nancycolesilverman.com" target="_blank">Website</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nancy.silverman.90/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.threads.net/@nancy.silverman" target="_blank">Threads</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4027978.Nancy_Cole_Silverman" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>
~~ <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/nancy-cole-silverman" target="_blank">BookBub</a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">Giveaway</h1></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="e6a8df62144" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e6a8df62144/" id="rcwidget_9siws3cj" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>
Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-81376287023776096412024-02-25T02:00:00.035-06:002024-02-25T02:00:00.154-06:00Murder in Masquerade (A Lady of Letters Mystery) by Mary Winters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlb5HP1UymduuAb0iG_OYyqlWOKtis9Kv_uEa6x1COZfhcLzpIs4VsxPRttJ1o7wDAL2qEhYPXYeFExcl-ZflGpW8rKAFqBfVF-9AmnRmOtmeb7iq8toqxoLIKWsDPxanWJUGgGwIeQTfpvaX-7W9GFghwVOPneREcrWx95WUwVVTxP3f23JNmxhHDb0f2/s820/MURDER%20IN%20MASQUERADE%20BANNER%20820.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="820" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlb5HP1UymduuAb0iG_OYyqlWOKtis9Kv_uEa6x1COZfhcLzpIs4VsxPRttJ1o7wDAL2qEhYPXYeFExcl-ZflGpW8rKAFqBfVF-9AmnRmOtmeb7iq8toqxoLIKWsDPxanWJUGgGwIeQTfpvaX-7W9GFghwVOPneREcrWx95WUwVVTxP3f23JNmxhHDb0f2/w640-h306/MURDER%20IN%20MASQUERADE%20BANNER%20820.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Book</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis4wzry8iNnLJ9VBtJDMtgwB46jGltREuTlnQ8ADgM06ZV9KyTcF1o6mZHMLVAWq3jjmke5ijXG8B72M6HaeiqnMdna07T5OHBaN7ID7XmIMqKFCFckzq50-EgCN8cyYicRK97t0oLH5rYcP9wyYC2OiLL4ZeNr4-jJuAb_VDmNRhXOaNHMyXuZcHItQ3u/s2400/MurderinMasquerade.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1556" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis4wzry8iNnLJ9VBtJDMtgwB46jGltREuTlnQ8ADgM06ZV9KyTcF1o6mZHMLVAWq3jjmke5ijXG8B72M6HaeiqnMdna07T5OHBaN7ID7XmIMqKFCFckzq50-EgCN8cyYicRK97t0oLH5rYcP9wyYC2OiLL4ZeNr4-jJuAb_VDmNRhXOaNHMyXuZcHItQ3u/s320/MurderinMasquerade.jpg" width="207" /></a></b></div><b>Extra, extra, read all about it! Countess turned advice
columnist Amelia Amesbury finds herself playing the role of sleuth when a night
at the theatre turns deadly.</b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Victorian Countess Amelia Amesbury’s secret hobby, writing
an advice column for a London penny paper, has gotten her into hot water
before. After all, Amelia will do whatever it takes to help a reader in need.
But now, handsome marquis Simon Bainbridge desperately requires her assistance.
His beloved younger sister, Marielle, has written Amelia's Lady Agony column
seeking advice on her plans to elope with a man her family does not approve of.
Determined to save his sister from a scoundrel and the family from scandal,
Simon asks Amelia to dissuade Marielle from the ill-advised gambit.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But when the scoundrel makes an untimely exit after a
performance of Verdi’s Rigoletto, Amelia realizes there’s much more at stake
than saving a young woman’s reputation from ruin. It’s going to take more than
her letter-writing skills to help the dashing marquis, mend the familial bond,
and find the murderer. Luckily, solving problems is her specialty!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://amzn.to/4bxCaES" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-8373827-11819508?sid=PRHEFFDF5A7F1&url=http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/?ean=9780593548783" target="_blank">B&N</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.tkqlhce.com/click-8373827-10747236?SID=PRHEFFDF5A7F1--9780593548783&url=http://www.booksamillion.com/p/9780593548783" target="_blank">BAM</a> ~~ <a href="https://bookshop.org/a/91071/9780593548783" target="_blank">Bookshop.org</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.powells.com/book/-9780593548783?utm_source=randomhouse&utm_campaign=randomhouse&utm_content=PRHEFFDF5A7F1--9780593548783" target="_blank">Powell's Books</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.hudsonbooksellers.com/book/9780593548783?utm_source=prh&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_term=301&utm_content=PRHEFFDF5A7F1--9780593548783&utm_campaign=9780593548783" target="_blank">Hudson Booksellers</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/157979415-murder-in-masquerade" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicikSx8qmedwRWqU3H0lTVq5dtRdzyVYx34eZLw6CeoPJAMNlmHyNShZWGyuh5_CRd8F3zI8u0kuK5-r8p8NbgMzb5vdG5IBQtISdZJGqKHwQK-JHMeWWZvRBPlLuKrP28YI2rewSmYj3b2wb8hrCyunGALuEzRpIsVlX19uNRFXvA-wkVIcS6rgyl7Im2/s6049/Mary%20Winters.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6049" data-original-width="4033" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicikSx8qmedwRWqU3H0lTVq5dtRdzyVYx34eZLw6CeoPJAMNlmHyNShZWGyuh5_CRd8F3zI8u0kuK5-r8p8NbgMzb5vdG5IBQtISdZJGqKHwQK-JHMeWWZvRBPlLuKrP28YI2rewSmYj3b2wb8hrCyunGALuEzRpIsVlX19uNRFXvA-wkVIcS6rgyl7Im2/w133-h200/Mary%20Winters.jpg" width="133" /></a></b></div><b><br />Mary Winters</b> is the author of the Lady of Letters
historical mystery series. She also writes cozy mysteries under the name Mary
Angela. A longtime reader and fan of historical fiction, Mary set her latest
work in Victorian England after being inspired by a trip to London. Since then,
she’s been busily planning her next mystery—and another trip! Find out more
about Mary and her writing, reading, and teaching at <a href="http://www.marywintersauthor.com/">marywintersauthor.com</a>.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.Marywintersauthor.com/blog" target="_blank">Blog</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.Facebook.com/marywintersauthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ~~ <a href="http://www.Instagram.com/marywintersauthor" target="_blank">Instagram</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/157979415-murder-in-masquerade " target="_blank">GoodReads</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">Giveaway</h1></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="028877921626" data-template="56d5f80dbc544fb30fda66f0" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/028877921626/" id="rcwidget_m5l5dylv" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.escapewithdollycas.com/great-escapes-virtual-book-tours/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="250" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EEIU6kp_pVm6EcxUwD3Q4WqsVvgD7QxcIF3x3TwYn7dsH4fs_ZC_eQvAtlmbPEUO4n4UcfjukgHCyBNwhKeWJBQUuJ8Sp7x1bvISG1GgXi9Ae8Efuu9wXZwhRaYRAAwL2l6iMoaUnOz2XYyf5dSBdwvqUR_6xuRt6zffxW2c9CdmEJ0ri-t9moJDu-zw/w200-h200/new%20gevbt%20button%202023%20250.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>TOUR PARTICIPANTS</b><br />February 20 – <a href="https://sarahcantstopreadingbooks.com/">Sarah Can't Stop Reading Books</a>
- REVIEW <br />February 21 – <a href="https://jodyjoy.com/">Mystery,
Thrillers, and Suspense</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />February 21 – <a href="https://janereads2.blogspot.com/">Jane
Reads</a> - REVIEW<br />February 22 – <a href="https://www.literaryau.com/">Literary
Gold</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />February 22 – <a href="http://www.fundinmental.com/">fundinmental</a>-
SPOTLIGHT<br />February 23 – <a href="https://christyscozycorners.com/">Christy's
Cozy Corners</a> – REVIEW<br />February 23 – <a href="https://saphsbooks.blogspot.com/">Sapphyria's
Book Reviews</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />February 24 – <a href="https://readingismysuperpower.org/">Reading
Is My SuperPower</a> – REVIEW<br />February 24 – <a href="https://guatemalapaula.blogspot.com/">Guatemala
Paula Loves to Read</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />February 25 – <a href="https://themysterysection01.blogspot.com/">The Mystery Section</a> –
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SPOTLIGHT<br />February 26 – <a href="https://musingsbymaureen.blogspot.com/">Maureen's Musings</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />February 27 – <a href="https://www.storeybookreviews.com/">StoreyBook
Reviews</a> – CHARACTER GUEST POST<br />February 28 – <a href="http://novelsalive.com/">Novels Alive</a>
– REVIEW<br />February 28 – <a href="https://cassidysalem.wordpress.com/">Cassidy's
Bookshelves</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />February 29 - <a href="https://www.dianneascroft.com/blog/">Ascroft,
eh?</a> – AUTHOR INTERVIEW<br />March 1 – <a href="http://fuonlyknew.com/">FUONLYKNEW</a> –
SPOTLIGHT<br />March 1 – <a href="http://www.birdhouse-books.com/">View from
the Birdhouse</a> – REVIEW<br />March 2 – <a href="https://www.themysteryofwriting.com/">The
Mystery of Writing</a> – REVIEW<br />March 2 – <a href="https://www.reviewthickandthin.com/">Review
Thick And Thin</a> – REVIEW<br />March 2 – <a href="http://www.escapewithdollycas.com/">Escape
With Dollycas Into A Good Book</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />March 3 – <a href="https://cozyupwithkathy.blogspot.com/">Cozy
Up With Kathy</a> – REVIEW<br />March 4 – <a href="http://ow.ly/w3SA50vlKHY">#BRVL Book
Review Virginia Lee</a> – SPOTLIGHT<br />March 4 – <a href="https://elizabethmckenna.com/my-blog/">Elizabeth
McKenna - Author</a> – SPOTLIGHT</div>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-80777729133329352272024-02-24T02:00:00.001-06:002024-02-24T02:00:00.150-06:00Saturday Quote<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2heiMREZTVPmKBGsdoNymO7zLK5z91WSfQG4f3CmVrp2vnzDr1eBKO6RE9je8mZU2UbCdwWNMvrrkwKy7rYLpAMlug19btK-ds2cfNRq4eDmFB4ARw6VEJRohJAJBy1W5KTPtN1PFFV6XP4_IOox-dNxxofeR5mDdjKBsvrocB2hPflX-nhpmJaHp3ax/s700/50-Book-Quotes-37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2heiMREZTVPmKBGsdoNymO7zLK5z91WSfQG4f3CmVrp2vnzDr1eBKO6RE9je8mZU2UbCdwWNMvrrkwKy7rYLpAMlug19btK-ds2cfNRq4eDmFB4ARw6VEJRohJAJBy1W5KTPtN1PFFV6XP4_IOox-dNxxofeR5mDdjKBsvrocB2hPflX-nhpmJaHp3ax/w640-h640/50-Book-Quotes-37.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-34286497982136378442024-02-22T02:00:00.001-06:002024-02-22T02:00:00.138-06:00Pet Momma Cozy Mysteries by Maryann Shanesy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvccosXYMs2vCWnlUlKApUffeu-d5mSJcg1I6yM9Ueg35S-zH13bmlF4ogAhzQ6rnVs3PAM-CF34QZcrRIzU3Avoq8pFPIHEeQV6AAcaypdMzGOlyhTTXe-s48QZZ_kdcHWHwUKNEO82ZUqulStAa6gbcewwOnUE5mKARUM7n3h_yBbRbAaOzCAKf5UVB/s800/Pet%20Momma%20Banner2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvccosXYMs2vCWnlUlKApUffeu-d5mSJcg1I6yM9Ueg35S-zH13bmlF4ogAhzQ6rnVs3PAM-CF34QZcrRIzU3Avoq8pFPIHEeQV6AAcaypdMzGOlyhTTXe-s48QZZ_kdcHWHwUKNEO82ZUqulStAa6gbcewwOnUE5mKARUM7n3h_yBbRbAaOzCAKf5UVB/w640-h320/Pet%20Momma%20Banner2.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Series</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">An amateur sleuth and her rescue cat investigate mysterious
happenings in their small town.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">A CATastrophic Neighborhood</h3><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwSMN8ZER1sgVY_IRVqfeFkQm1wCR4caxM1pD1vPWBTc7XbrzXCPX7PFPST2tQuqyBWUv-2lirHI6yR59IIEbb1vP3v9HK_EVCrxeTttU7_5_y5T8ts5uWDSarm8ltD3GPcNpAFS_Ayocbdpfdg_qbtAKmLq5QVRpKiMURryrDqxcSruyBWj8rBRQXwYT/s425/A%20CATastrophic%20Neighborhood%20Cover.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="283" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwSMN8ZER1sgVY_IRVqfeFkQm1wCR4caxM1pD1vPWBTc7XbrzXCPX7PFPST2tQuqyBWUv-2lirHI6yR59IIEbb1vP3v9HK_EVCrxeTttU7_5_y5T8ts5uWDSarm8ltD3GPcNpAFS_Ayocbdpfdg_qbtAKmLq5QVRpKiMURryrDqxcSruyBWj8rBRQXwYT/s320/A%20CATastrophic%20Neighborhood%20Cover.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Tarsey Quinston and her husband Steve are excited about
moving to their new home in the picturesque community of Bluffington Hills. It
turns out the neighborhood isn't as idyllic as they hoped. Mystery overshadows
the community with quirky neighbors, an angry property manager and the
suspicious death of the town seamstress. With a nudge from her cat, Tarsey
feels compelled to find out what happened with the unsolved case. As the layers
of perfection are peeled away and drama within the Homeowners Association
causes uproar, the property manager and Tarsey's cat suddenly go missing. Now
desperate to find her beloved pet, Tarsey must solve the mystery of what
happened to all three of them before there is a CATastrophic situation!<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://amzn.to/3uieP9v" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/124927045-a-catastrophic-neighborhood" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/a-catastrophic-neighborhood-a-pet-momma-cozy-mystery-by-maryann-shanesy" target="_blank">BookBub</a></p>
<br />
<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">A Ghostly Clue</h3><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm0K6x9xAqlBy8J6bZXIJCwwmpACautTnROUjkCl9voY5A6vYnOQjjqRNNzDSSxFsKnOCKOJQWG0f-u25mgcay_28A8rbyaj8EU29V-QUjOOt1VgRTrOwaFWtGJiDjSGzmy_dpE_CH0d2CpDjTdBSvDBrUzT3rpDGSHGmXtI3T3tYiVBzgm9sA0dKDLeJ/s445/A%20Ghostly%20Clue%20Cover.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm0K6x9xAqlBy8J6bZXIJCwwmpACautTnROUjkCl9voY5A6vYnOQjjqRNNzDSSxFsKnOCKOJQWG0f-u25mgcay_28A8rbyaj8EU29V-QUjOOt1VgRTrOwaFWtGJiDjSGzmy_dpE_CH0d2CpDjTdBSvDBrUzT3rpDGSHGmXtI3T3tYiVBzgm9sA0dKDLeJ/s320/A%20Ghostly%20Clue%20Cover.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>It’s the Christmas season in the charming small town of
Starport Cove. But amid shopping for gifts, decorating, baking sugar cookies,
and organizing the Christmas Bazaar, the discovery of a body is not the holiday
event that anyone expected. When antique store owner Milton Cenford is found
dead in a suit of armor, amateur sleuth Tarsey Quinston is determined to find
the killer.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As quirky visitors arrive in town and create more questions
than answers, Tarsey finds herself investigating rumors of a missing historic
diary penned by a First Lady from Starport Cove and looking into paranormal
activity.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Will the discovery of a mysterious hidden passageway and an
encounter with a ghost lead Tarsey and her intuitive cat Silver down the path
to danger? Or will they finally unveil the identity of the killer?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://amzn.to/4brOEh7" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/203898403-a-ghostly-clue" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/a-ghostly-clue-a-pet-momma-cozy-mystery-book-2-by-maryann-shanesy" target="_blank">BookBub</a></p>
<br /><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Maryann Shanesy is a native of Maryland who has always
enjoyed writing. A lifelong lover of mysteries and anything gardening, she is a
pet momma to a rescue dog and cat that brighten her life. She and her husband
have two wonderful daughters and live in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. She
hopes you will enjoy her cozy mysteries.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/petmommacozies" target="_blank">Instagram</a> ~~ <a href="https://twitter.com/PetMommaCozies" target="_blank">Twitter (X)</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.threads.net/@petmommacozies" target="_blank">Threads</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/30383251.Maryann_Shanesy" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>
~~ <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/maryann-shanesy" target="_blank">BookBub</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><h1 style="text-align: center;">Giveaway</h1></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="e6a8df62143" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e6a8df62143/" id="rcwidget_ovpxk91l" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-24653415698881562372024-02-20T02:00:00.001-06:002024-02-20T02:00:00.143-06:00Playing Dead by TG Wolff<div style="text-align: center;">
<h2><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3xkxX1cxOnAwjPgcAJiuF0cbVXVBwL6nERILZBEcjGDYz0qVN5h9Z_5rB5wKq26PJEo-pIZbAfNqNSUnV-lt8PRwKDjrI3SMJCknZHym1TFRDuvUhXysw_lqbkcidSujxbNuXeyNzndfx1V2r4mlUjhVRi7VxV0RLUSivTJA5smClNr05xfEr0esoi8u/s1600/playing-dead-by-tg-wolff--cover--banner.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3xkxX1cxOnAwjPgcAJiuF0cbVXVBwL6nERILZBEcjGDYz0qVN5h9Z_5rB5wKq26PJEo-pIZbAfNqNSUnV-lt8PRwKDjrI3SMJCknZHym1TFRDuvUhXysw_lqbkcidSujxbNuXeyNzndfx1V2r4mlUjhVRi7VxV0RLUSivTJA5smClNr05xfEr0esoi8u/w640-h426/playing-dead-by-tg-wolff--cover--banner.png" width="640" /></a></div></i></h2>
</div>
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<h2>Synopsis:</h2>
<div style="float: left; margin-right: 15px; width: 225px;"><img alt="Playing Dead by TG Wolff" border="0" height="300" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/forminator/13997_115b15d08b2c7bb7da2712949e71a2f7/uploads/kaNyKDggDCLz-PlayingDead-A2.jpg" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="200" /></div>
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<p>The nightmare is over. Alexander “Rotten” Carter is dead. But when his body is dumped in Cleveland Homicide Detective Jesus De La Cruz’s neighborhood, there are more questions than answers. Rotten was dressed up like the king of hearts, right down to the dagger in the suicide king’s temple. The elaborate staging is perplexing at the same time seems to be sending a message.</p>
<p>As Cruz investigates, he discovers Rotten Carter was more complex than the simple villain he had painted him to be. So is his murder, which is related to the deaths of his two lieutenants months prior. Both were strangled and found, with playing cards in their mouths. Jacks.</p>
<p>As the body count climbs, connection tie back to a dead CI and an accident that made a cop a widower. A web becomes apparent with one man in the middle: Narcotics Detective Matt Yablonski. But is he the spider or another fly?</p>
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<blockquote class="details" style="margin: 20px; padding: 20px;">
<h3>Book Details:</h3>
<p><b>Genre:</b> Mystery <br />
<b>Published by:</b> Down & Out Books<br />
<b>Publication Date:</b> February 2024 <br />
<b>Number of Pages:</b> 398 <br />
<b>Series:</b> <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/DeLaCruz" rel="noopener" target="_blank">The De La Cruz Case Files</a>, Book 4<br />
<b>Book Links:</b> <a href="https://amzn.to/3UtXuF2" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="https://pictbooks.tours/4PfMa" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> </p>
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<h3>Read an excerpt:</h3>
<div class="excerpt" style="border-color: 800000; border-style: groove; border-width: 3px; height: 250px; overflow: auto;">
<p>The crime scene was around the corner, no more than ten houses from Cruz’s own. Two streets came together at a sharp angle, creating oddly shaped yards. An island was formed at one of the peaks, surrounded by roadway. It was the length of one of the yards facing it. Geometric colors showed brightly in the morning sun, giving the landscape a third dimension it didn’t naturally have. Cruz approached, his mind transforming the lines and shapes into the macabre corpse.</p>
<p>“I called 9-1-1 and, thankfully, no one else has come out,” Binnie, the girls’ father, said. He stood guard over the island in worn sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He was barefoot.</p>
<p>“Aurora kept the girls. She’ll settle them down.”</p>
<p>“Good. I didn’t want them to see this, not any more than they had.” Binnie turned until he and Cruz were side by side. “The island was part of the city’s Color the Corners Chalk Festival. It took the artist two days to do it.”</p>
<p>That explained the background, a mosaic reminiscent of a stained-glass window, but not the character on it. Cruz thought Francie’s description of a costume was accurate. The victim, male, White, was in his twenties. The torso was covered by a tunic, the kind a knight might wear. Instead of regal, the tunic was decorated with hearts in groups of twos and threes, some facing up, others down. The costume was thin fabric. Details were printed on, not embroidered. The legs were dressed in a pair of tights, the red color coordinated with the tunic. The feet were bare.</p>
<p>The arms were bare as well. One was bent at the elbow with the hand resting on the lower abdomen. The other was positioned upward. The hand curled around the hilt of a long dagger, the blade buried in the head. It was an unnatural position that forced the wrist, elbow, and shoulder out of a flat alignment.</p>
<p>Cruz rounded to the base of the figure. He recognized it. “Someone made him into the king of hearts. Better get shoes on, Binnie,” he advised as vehicles began arriving at the scene. “This isn’t going to be quick.”</p>
<p>“I’ll put some coffee on,” he said and headed to the house directly behind them.</p>
<p>There was no estimate on when the man had died. His body temperature was lower than was naturally possible given the weather. The nighttime low bottomed out around fifty degrees. The body was low forties. The Cuyahoga County Medical Examiner would use methods more sophisticated than temperature to estimate time of death.</p>
<p>A cursory review of the body found no cuts, wounds, or contusions aside from the knife in the head. The blade had been driven in above the left ear. The handle was wrapped in leather, the complicated over-under weave spoke of skill and craftsmanship. Cruz examined the round, silver ball at the end and found it to be slightly flattened and marred with scratches.</p>
<p>Something about the position of the mouth drew Cruz’s attention. He applied pressure on the chin, opening the jaw. Inside was the white edge of folded paper. Widening the opening, he gently pulled. The folded item came easily. It wasn’t paper exactly. It was thicker. Coated. He turned it over, both sides printed in a blue elaborate pattern reminiscent of…a playing card.</p>
<p>He unfolded it, revealing the king of hearts.</p>
<p>Rising, he compared the body position to the card. It was a match.</p>
<p>He pictured the man resting his head on a table. His killer standing over him, holding the dagger in position with one hand and using a hammer in the other to drive the point deep. There were no defensive signs. It was as if the man simply lay down and allowed the knife to be driven into his head. The ME would tell him if the man was incapacitated via drugs or other means.</p>
<p>Wherever happened, it didn’t happen here. Beneath the body was the chalk of the drawing. The lines separating the colors were disturbed directly beneath but even that was minor. There was minimal transfer to the back of the clothing. The man was set in place, not dragged, which meant either multiple people were involved or one person strong enough to handle a body. The man was average to short with sinewy arms and legs. Cruz put him in the 160-pound camp.</p>
<p>Ready to tackle the timetable, Cruz went up the short walk to where Binnie waited with a cup of coffee.</p>
<p>“It’s nice and hot,” he said, holding out the insulated Cleveland Browns cup.</p>
<p>Cruz went up one step to accept. “I appreciate it. Tell me what happened this morning.”</p>
<p>“You know, Cruz, I can’t tell you much. I was dead asleep when Sunny screamed. You know how it is, one second out cold, then wide awake. I went to the front door. I could tell there was something on the island but not what it was.” He pointed to the screen now hiding the crime scene. “It didn’t make sense until I was nearly to the sidewalk. I told the girls to go get you and ran back in the house to get my phone. I didn’t even think about shoes. I called 9-1-1 and waited for you or them to arrive.”</p>
<p>“What time was this?”</p>
<p>Binnie pulled out his phone and searched for outgoing calls. “Eight minutes after seven. The sky was light but the street still dark. You know. You arrived just a few minutes later.”</p>
<p>Cruz did know but wanted details to supplement his own observations. “What about cars on the street? Anyone leaving the area? Any vehicles that didn’t belong?”</p>
<p>His witness thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Everything was quiet. I didn’t even see anyone walking their dog yet.”</p>
<p>“I had someone go house-to-house. Anyone who was awake was in their kitchen or backyard. There was no answer next door. Any idea where your neighbor is?”</p>
<p>“Metro General Hospital. He works first shift in the maintenance department. He left at twenty to seven. When he started his car, I woke enough to read the clock and decide it was too early to get up.” Binnie pointed to a pair of patrol officers waving their way. “I think they want you.”</p>
<p>“We’re close to wrapping up here. Let me see what they need, then we’ll go to my house. I need to ask your daughters a few questions.” Cruz left the porch, turning his attention to the officers. “What do you have?”</p>
<p>“The victim has been identified as Alexander Carter, age twenty-seven,” the leading officer answered. “His listed address is his parents’, but he’s spent a lot of time as a guest of the county. In and out for possession, assault, petty theft. He’s—Detective?”</p>
<p>Cruz stalked to the protective tent.</p>
<p>“Detective? Cruz?” The officer hurried to keep up.</p>
<p>Cruz took a knee next to the dead man’s shoulder and studied the face. He’d seen it in pictures a dozen times, only twice in person. In every case, the eyes had been narrowed with hate, the chin tipped up in challenge.</p>
<p>“Do you know this guy?” the officer asked.</p>
<p>“Not just me. We’ve been after Rotten Carter since July. Send me the information on his next of kin. I’ll make the trip after we wrap here, and I follow up with the girls. Go back through the neighborhood, see if anyone here knows our vic.”</p>
<p>The officers left the tent to execute orders while Cruz studied the man he daydreamed about killing. Without the attitude he wore like skin, Rotten Carter had a clean-cut look. He didn’t have ink tatted across his body or battle-earned scars saying the man fought his way through life. He could have been a family man with a white-collar job.</p>
<p>He could have been an ordinary guy earning an honest living.</p>
<p>But he wasn’t.</p>
<p>Rotten Carter was a mid-level dealer who had been on Cleveland police’s radar for years. His sister, Natasha “Sasha” Carter was a confidential informant to Cruz’s best friend, Narcotics Detective Matt Yablonski. Sasha snitched with her brother’s permission or at least knowledge. She fed information on Rotten’s competition, keeping her brother’s territory solid.</p>
<p>One day last January, Sasha got in touch with Yablonski and asked for a meetup. She didn’t follow their normal protocols, wanting Yablonski to come to her place. He arrived at the agreed upon time and found Sasha overdosing. Yablonski called for backup and began CPR. Rotten walked in and misread the situation. While Rotten and Yablonski fought, Sasha died.</p>
<p>Rotten blamed Yablonski. He focused his energy and resources on finding the man who killed his sister. Bad luck or bad timing put Rotten in the same place at the same time as Yablonski, and Yablonski’s wife, Erin.</p>
<p>Rotten saw his opportunity for revenge and took it.</p>
<p>That night, Erin and Aurora were driving to a restaurant for a celebratory night out. Rain poured down, making the street dark and the road slick. There was no evidence Rotten Carter tracked Erin’s car through downtown Cleveland. There was no proof Rotten drove the car and instigated the crash. There were no witnesses to point to Rotten as the reason Erin Yablonski was dead and Aurora’s legs might never be the same.</p>
<p>And yet there was no doubt.</p>
<p>Alone in the tent with the corpse of the man he hated, Cruz felt empty. This didn’t fix a damn thing. And now, it would be his job to find the killer who had done him and the rest of the city a favor.</p>
<p>Cruz didn’t want the job, but he wasn’t going to pass it on. He was going to use it to his advantage and prove Rotten Carter was behind the crash.</p>
<p>Closure. That’s what he could give Aurora and Yablonski.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Excerpt from <i>Playing Dead</i> by TG Wolff. Copyright 2024 by TG Wolff. Reproduced with permission from TG Wolff. All rights reserved.</p>
</div>
<p> </p>
<h2>Author Bio:</h2>
<div style="float: right; margin-left: 15px; width: 230px;"><img align="left" alt="author" border="0" height="200" src="https://partnersincrimetours.com/wp-content/uploads/forminator/13997_115b15d08b2c7bb7da2712949e71a2f7/uploads/Y9WmOgYpo3kw-DSC5549-jpg.jpg" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin: 5px 15px 5px 0px;" width="200" /></div>
<p>TG Wolff writes mysteries that play within the gray area between good and bad, right and wrong. She specializes in puzzles, giving you everything you need to solve the mystery. Diverse characters mirror the complexities of real life and real people, balanced with a healthy dose of entertainment. TG Wolff is the co-creator and co-host of <em>Mysteries to Die For</em> podcast. She holds a Master’s Degree in Civil Engineering and is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><b>Catch Up With TG Wolff:</b><br /><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/TGWolff" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">TGWolff.com<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/TGWolff-GR" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Goodreads<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/TG_Wolff-bb" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">BookBub - @TG_Wolff<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/tg_wolff-IG" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Instagram - @tg_wolff<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/tg_wolff-TW" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Twitter/X - @tg_wolff<br /></a><a href="https://pictbooks.tours/Mysteries2Die4-FB" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">Facebook - @Mysteries2Die4</a></p>
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<h2>Tour Participants:</h2>
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<h2>Don't Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!</h2>
<h5>This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for TG Wolff. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.</h5> <div data-url="https://kingsumo.com/g/j4isjp/playing-dead-by-tg-wolff" id="kingsumo-embed"></div>
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Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-69459788012334800012024-02-18T02:00:00.017-06:002024-02-18T02:00:00.139-06:00Last Seen in Havana by Teresa Dovalpage<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/last-seen-in-havana-td-banner_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="800" height="238" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/last-seen-in-havana-td-banner_orig.png" width="640" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/1-last-seen-in-havana-ebook_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="484" height="400" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/1-last-seen-in-havana-ebook_orig.png" width="323" /></a></div><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>Last
Seen in Havana </b></span></span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">A
Havana Mystery Book 4 </span></span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">by
Teresa Dovalpage </span></span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Genre:
Mystery </span></span>
</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/lastseeninhavana-about-the-book_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="88" data-original-width="611" height="46" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/lastseeninhavana-about-the-book_orig.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><span color="#"><b>A
Cuban American woman searches for her long-lost mother and fights to
restore a beautiful but crumbling Art Deco home in the heart of
Havana in this moving, immersive new mystery, perfect for fans of </b></span></span><span color="#" style="font-size: 12pt;"><i><b>Of
Women and Salt</b></i></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><span color="#"><b>.</b></span></span></div>
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span><div style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Newly
widowed baker Mercedes Spivey flies from Miami to her native Cuba in
2019 to care for her ailing paternal grandmother. Mercedes’s life
has been shaped by loss, beginning with the mysterious unsolved
disappearance of her mother when Mercedes was a little girl.
Returning to Cuba revives Mercedes’s hopes of finding her mother as
she attempts to piece together the few scraps of information
she has. Could her mother still be alive?</span></div><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span color="#"><div style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Thirty-three
years earlier, in 1986, an American college student with endless
political optimism falls deliriously in love with a handsome Cuban
soldier while on a spontaneous visit to the island. She decides to
stay permanently, but soon discovers that nothing is as it seems
in</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Havana.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The two women’s stories proceed in
parallel as Mercedes gets closer to the truth about her mother,
uncovering shocking family secrets in the process . . .</span></div></span></span></span></span></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://amzn.to/48bjTtY">Amazon</a>
* <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/last-seen-in-havana/id6448879804">Apple</a>
* <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/last-seen-in-havana-teresa-dovalpage/1143455932?ean=9781641295390">B&N</a>
* <a href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Teresa_Dovalpage_Last_Seen_in_Havana?id=hIC9EAAAQBAJ">Google</a>
* <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/last-seen-in-havana">Kobo</a>
* <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/last-seen-in-havana-by-teresa-dovalpage">Bookbub</a>
* <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/150065074-last-seen-in-havana">Goodreads</a></b></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/0-death-under-the-perseids-ebook_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="484" height="400" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/0-death-under-the-perseids-ebook_orig.png" width="323" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>Death
Under the Perseids </b></span></span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">A
Havana Mystery </span></span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">(Prequel
to Last Seen in Havana) </span></span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/lastseeninhavana-about-the-book_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="88" data-original-width="611" height="46" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/lastseeninhavana-about-the-book_orig.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="font-size: 12pt;">There’s
no such thing as a free cruise in Cuban American author Teresa
Dovalpage's addictively clever new Havana mystery.</b></div>
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span><div style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Cuban-born
Mercedes Spivey and her American husband, Nolan, win a five-day
cruise to Cuba. Although the circumstances surrounding the prize seem
a little suspicious to Mercedes, Nolan’s current unemployment and
their need to spice up their marriage make the decision a no-brainer.
Once aboard, Mercedes is surprised to see two people she met through
her ex-boyfriend Lorenzo: former University of Havana professor Selfa
Segarra and down-on-his-luck Spanish writer Javier Jurado. Even
stranger: they also received a free cruise.</span></div><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span color="#"><div style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">When Selfa
disappears on their first day at sea, Mercedes and Javier begin to
wonder if their presence on the cruise is more than coincidence.
Mercedes confides her worries to her husband, but he convinces her
that it’s all in her head.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">However, when Javier dies
under mysterious circumstances after disembarking in Havana, and
Nolan is nowhere to be found, Mercedes scrambles through the city
looking for him, fearing her suspicions were correct all along.</span></div></span></span></span></span></span><p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><br />
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://a.co/d/81gdI1X">Amazon</a>
* <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/death-under-the-perseids/id1557163005">Apple</a>
* <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/death-under-the-perseids-teresa-dovalpage/1138980118?ean=9781641294058">B&N</a>
* <a href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Teresa_Dovalpage_Death_under_the_Perseids?id=GBsiEAAAQBAJ">Google</a>
* <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/death-under-the-perseids">Kobo</a>
* <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/death-under-the-perseids-by-teresa-dovalpage">Bookbub</a>
* <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59109228-death-under-the-perseids">Goodreads</a></b></span></span></p>
<p style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</p><p style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>**Don’t
miss the rest of the series!**</b></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/0-havana-mysteries-previous-books_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="361" height="238" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/0-havana-mysteries-previous-books_orig.png" width="286" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>Find
them on Amazon-</b></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0881XQZPK"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0881XQZPK</span></span></a></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/lastseeninhavana-about-the-author_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="94" data-original-width="692" height="52" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/lastseeninhavana-about-the-author_orig.png" width="387" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/teresa-dovalpage-author-s-pic-250x167_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="167" data-original-width="250" height="167" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/teresa-dovalpage-author-s-pic-250x167_orig.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Writer,
translator and college professor, Teresa Dovalpage is a Cuban
transplant firmly rooted in New Mexico. She is the author of twelve
novels, among them the Havana Mystery series, three short story
collections and four theater plays. She lives with her husband, one
dog and too many barn cats. Her website is </span></span><span><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://teredovalpage.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">http://teredovalpage.com</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><a href="https://teredovalpage.com/">Website</a>
* <a href="https://www.facebook.com/dovalpage/">Facebook</a> *
<a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/teresa-dovalpage">Bookbub</a>
* <a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B001K93DCW">Amazon</a>
* <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1214980.Teresa_Dovalpage">Goodreads</a></b></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/lastseeninhavana-giveaway_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="85" data-original-width="378" height="67" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/lastseeninhavana-giveaway_orig.png" width="300" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>F</b><b>ollow
the tour </b><a href="https://bit.ly/LastSeenInHavanaTour"><span color="#"><u><b>HERE</b></u></span></a><b>
for special content and a giveaway!</b></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><span color="#">A
hardcover copy of Death under the Perseids, </span></span></span></span>
</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><span color="#">$10
Amazon giftcard – 1 winner each!</span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span color="#"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="23d974a94021" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/23d974a94021/" id="rcwidget_omk01jgm" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span color="#"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/silverdagger-quill-logo_orig.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="264" data-original-width="300" height="264" src="https://www.silverdaggertours.com/uploads/8/2/5/5/82557464/silverdagger-quill-logo_orig.png" width="300" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>
Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-58985055185698415052024-02-17T02:00:00.001-06:002024-02-17T02:00:00.142-06:00Saturday Quote<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2s-omkI1NfDSq_FxJhXtuPuIZj8tWntTNgaPCOVU7OTwQayhPh7g-jyvfY_ckdnuxKKqtAqQa3Jg7LJh9BHXUCiwM0jBovbmq_SOcbof5iGpqDGnXozVwUa-YFO7wEfLgKFxuDDIklTULqUHOQTds7n2NswfL_8KY3KcUd7omJwYoF2acVwYMrPu5T6w/s700/50-Book-Quotes-36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2s-omkI1NfDSq_FxJhXtuPuIZj8tWntTNgaPCOVU7OTwQayhPh7g-jyvfY_ckdnuxKKqtAqQa3Jg7LJh9BHXUCiwM0jBovbmq_SOcbof5iGpqDGnXozVwUa-YFO7wEfLgKFxuDDIklTULqUHOQTds7n2NswfL_8KY3KcUd7omJwYoF2acVwYMrPu5T6w/w640-h640/50-Book-Quotes-36.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7306216253550568252.post-22474474016702378902024-02-15T02:00:00.001-06:002024-02-15T02:00:00.136-06:00Last Seen Leaving by Kelly Charron<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjElDMI0mYYKRR3n07I1W_y0fIWx-ECpBBBwLMXpiyU_VDCc47aO1PNwa5x0Tb_d6-UZJ4yaB1Q38kcETr-knAHGNFkG3fX0o6z6MopSIIEV5qa0M-m4PR0OlO2GXV1JOvLZS3iPes286m5qtjUiUjSQhRTuqAbNHRTXxWRvdkzpdjVRqcuCnLEg8z8NPVd/s800/Last%20seen%20Banner2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjElDMI0mYYKRR3n07I1W_y0fIWx-ECpBBBwLMXpiyU_VDCc47aO1PNwa5x0Tb_d6-UZJ4yaB1Q38kcETr-knAHGNFkG3fX0o6z6MopSIIEV5qa0M-m4PR0OlO2GXV1JOvLZS3iPes286m5qtjUiUjSQhRTuqAbNHRTXxWRvdkzpdjVRqcuCnLEg8z8NPVd/w640-h320/Last%20seen%20Banner2.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Book</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtGlFU5g358Xv2uwxBRNqeOSxUD4A3v4vG0MqII5mvASJ9-Q1qfr5lVHG-RDts5yBIs6yhXdZTl4w9QfY52mQoC4yQbmr3Gwmc77jvnK6ojJaiYieVPKwdk-r9WTEkJSZ_nn9XiCF2FgFWpF0vLJuFHhBZPsIDE1nmem8T3az0gFcPApzdADJA_VCnq7Vo/s2500/LSL%20E%20Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtGlFU5g358Xv2uwxBRNqeOSxUD4A3v4vG0MqII5mvASJ9-Q1qfr5lVHG-RDts5yBIs6yhXdZTl4w9QfY52mQoC4yQbmr3Gwmc77jvnK6ojJaiYieVPKwdk-r9WTEkJSZ_nn9XiCF2FgFWpF0vLJuFHhBZPsIDE1nmem8T3az0gFcPApzdADJA_VCnq7Vo/s320/LSL%20E%20Cover.jpg" width="205" /></a></div>Alice Penn is a successful thriller writer about to marry
the man of her dreams. But when she doesn’t return home after her bachelorette
party, and instead, wakes up in a dark concrete cell, she fears all her secrets
have finally caught up to her.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She’s been taken and she’s not alone. A distorted voice
crackles over loudspeakers, promising her that she’ll experience all the
torturous things she’s done to her characters.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Weaving together glimpses from her fiance, friends, and a
local cop, truths about Alice emerge, revealing secrets and lies none of them
could anticipate. How well do they know one another? And did they ever really
know Alice at all? Soon the world is watching, searching for the missing woman
who is quickly becoming a national sweetheart. As the investigation digs deeper
into her past, evidence is uncovered posing the question if Alice is worth
saving at all.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As her captor’s games become increasingly dangerous, Alice
has to play to survive. Only one of them will make it out alive.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/48YXXUi" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Last-Seen-Leaving-Kelly-Charron-ebook/dp/B0BH3B367N/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2AUJ26IWABVB5&keywords=last+seen+leaving+kelly&qid=1706065853&sprefix=last+seen+leaving+kelly%2Caps%2C139&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Amazon CA</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61416484-last-seen-leaving?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=o1X1CLCBed&rank=4" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">Excerpt</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The hot, sticky air made Alice<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>s dress cling to her like a second skin. Her stomach
rolled and the small drum inside her head was relentless, not to mention the
skull-grinding pressure in her temples and behind her eyes. Cottonmouth made
her desperate for a cold glass of water, and she<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>d like to throw in a handful of aspirin.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Alice opened one sticky eyelid, prepared for the unforgiving
glare of the morning sun that always snuck through her bedroom blinds. In its
place was complete blackness. A blackness she<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>d rarely experienced living in a busy city. Even in the
middle of the night, the light from the street lamps crept in through her
window. This wasn<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>t her bedroom.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She bolted upright, Her hand immediately cradled her head as
it pounded more violently. She swallowed hard as a wave of queasiness struck.
This wasn<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>t just a
hangover. She was woozy and disoriented, with her body not feeling like her
own.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Alice<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>s
head, back, and knees ached. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Her hands trailed the space around her, feeling at her
sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was not her bed. Her fingers met the thick, scratchy
comforter that she was lying on. She owned nothing like it, and neither did
London or Kara. Her heartbeat quickened, producing a whooshing in her ears. As
the blood rushed to her head, so did a wave of dizziness. Then, without
warning, Alice bent forward and emptied her stomach, the pressure making her
head spin like she was on an out of control merry-go-round. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she skittered
back, carefully avoiding the mess she<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language: PT;">d made. </span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: AR-SA; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>“</span>Where the hell am I?”
she whispered.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Her mind scrolled through the last flashes of memory from
the night before. Her bachelorette. She, London, and Kara had gone to Jake<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>s Pub for drinks.
They toasted to her engagement, danced, laughed, did a few shots, and then it
got blurry. A flash of a taxi ride. Standing in front of her house. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Her throat squeezed, an invisible hand around her windpipe.
The humid air grew heavier, adding tightness to her tender chest.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Focus Alice</i>. There had been shots of tequila, but
enough to do this? Enough to land her somewhere completely unknown? Her hand
moved to the top of her head. The plastic tiara was gone. Her fingers entwined
in the knotted nest, and her scalp ached like she<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>d been dragged around by her hair. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Why was it so dark in here? Tingles of panic spread through
her nerve endings. Something wasn<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>t
right.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: AR-SA; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>“</span>Hello!
Anyone?” her voice squeaked. <span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: AR-SA; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>“</span>This isn<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>t
funny!” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She held her breath as if it could help her to hear. She was
blind, yet her eyes scanned for anything that might pop out in the darkness.
Her heartbeat grew louder. She remained quiet, waiting for someone to call to
her—to tell her where she was and how she<span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>d
gotten there. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When no reply came, she tried again. The desperation, thick
and heavy in her voice, startled her.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All at once, a tsunami of alarm hit. She gasped, crawled
back, patted the floor, and swiped at the space around her. Anything to help
orient herself. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Where was she? Where was she? Where was she? </i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The phrase looped inside her confused head. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The floor was cold and rough beneath the blanket, maybe
cement. Alice kept moving back until she hit something and a dull pain spread
through her spine. She pressed her shaking body into the wall and forced
herself to stand, the coolness of the stone wall both shocking and invigorating
against the heat of her skin. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The stillness and quiet of the space invaded her. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="IT" style="mso-ansi-language: IT;">Scott</span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>s smiling face
flashed in her mind. She wanted him. No, she needed him. Where was he? <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She tapped on the floor in front of her with her foot. It
was solid. No holes or carpets. Just a sheet of hard concrete. She slid her
foot out in front of her, testing the ground. When it moved without hitting
anything, she inched a bit farther.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Keep it together, Alice. You</i><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span><i><span dir="RTL" lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial;"><span dir="RTL"></span><span dir="RTL"></span>’</span>re okay.</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She counted twenty-five tentative steps with her hands out
before her knuckles scraped a wall. The sting on her skin told her it was more
unfinished concrete. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She was in a cement box. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">About the Author</h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYseMYnIpv137iQIOkc66sos7cSjLYfestI4q30NuQTd6BIvlYvHUvF-9C3b7KiXS048UtoDR0xK6FXa-_SnV8ME073TqREbFIrRaxzMeD0NQGsX5qgk5bNVEVhhZ-_l4lZ-WGtMR-TwsHdJagRcDAmoFTSIyj7XccVAkm6KMpS_8rjjkkZt6skWdXwcY3/s900/Schmidt_Charron_263-square.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="900" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYseMYnIpv137iQIOkc66sos7cSjLYfestI4q30NuQTd6BIvlYvHUvF-9C3b7KiXS048UtoDR0xK6FXa-_SnV8ME073TqREbFIrRaxzMeD0NQGsX5qgk5bNVEVhhZ-_l4lZ-WGtMR-TwsHdJagRcDAmoFTSIyj7XccVAkm6KMpS_8rjjkkZt6skWdXwcY3/w200-h200/Schmidt_Charron_263-square.png" width="200" /></a></div><br />Kelly Charron is the author of adult psychological thrillers
and cozy mysteries. All with murderous inclinations and moderate amounts of
humor. She spends far too much time consuming true crime television (and
chocolate) while trying to decide if yes, it was the husband, with the wrench,
in the library. She lives with her husband and cat, Moo Moo, in Vancouver,
British Columbia.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://kellycharron.com" target="_blank">Website</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/KellyCharronAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.instagram.com/kellycharronauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> ~~ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7988251.Kelly_Charron" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></p></div>Mystery Sectionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05994743397017574659noreply@blogger.com2