Archive for November 8, 2023

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Tuesday Welsh, a witty and tenacious private investigator whose life takes an unexpected turn when she stumbles upon the lifeless body of Eric Kenny, owner of Mr. Yummy’s donut shop. Yet, upon going to the home of Eric Kenny, she finds him standing in the doorway, ready to greet her.

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Cookin’ Up Murder

Davidson & Welsh Investigations Book One

by D.J. Adamson

Genre: Cozy Mystery

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“Cookin’ Up Murder” is a lighthearted and captivating mystery set in Appleton, Oregon. The story revolves around Tuesday Welsh, a witty and a tenacious private investigator whose life takes an unexpected turn when she stumbles upon the lifeless body of Eric Kenny, owner of Mr. Yummy’s donut shop.

Tuesday is thrust into a web of secrets and danger that extends far beyond the sugary confines of the donut shop. As she delves deeper into the investigation, determined to unearth the truth, she finds herself entangled in a sinister plot that will shock her community. And possibly gain Davidson & Welsh a new client.

Filled with a blend of humor and suspense, “Cookin’ Up Murder” is sure to captivate readers who enjoy mysteries. It offers an engaging puzzle that will keep readers guessing until the satisfying reveal of the culprit.

Neither snow nor hunky cops nor angry cats will keep intrepid P.I. Tuesday Welsh from the (sometimes tardy) commission of her appointed rounds, chiefly trying to figure out why the body she discovered shows up alive and kicking elsewhere. “Cookin’ Up Murder” offers a delightful demonstration of how small towns can cook up big problems, with an ever-resourceful (despite herself) heroine as your guide.” – Michael Mallory.

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I stepped out of the shower and suffered a chilly assault, sending a body shiver down my spine from my nipples to my toes. I quickly dried myself, swiftly slipping into my undies like a woman whose boyfriend’s wife just got home. Not that I would ever date a married man. A friend of mine discovered dating a married man wasn’t the best way to maintain a non-committed relationship. Especially if the man’s wife owned a gun.

Next. I stepped into a pair of black polyester slacks, grabbed a white, wrinkle-free, stain-resistant cotton blouse, and buttoned it. Unfortunately, I found I’d skipped a button and had to re-button it, this time starting from the bottom. Finally, I rescued my shoes from under the couch, where a gazillion dust bunnies attacked me. I toed on my shoes. When I glimpsed the clock, its hands pointed to eight-fifty-three. This meant I had a mere seven minutes to get to work. The office was at least ten minutes away.

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“Before I leave, I want you to promise that you’ll open the office on time,” demanded Harley Davidson, my business partner, last Wednesday night.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I replied, pretending I didn’t already know the answer.

Harley stands at five-foot-ten, his green eyes framed by well-groomed eyebrows. His eyes hold a mischievous glint as if he harbors something known only to him. He might tower over me with his tousled reddish-brown hair, but he never truly poses a formidable threat. With me, his bark is always worse than his bite.

“Beats me why you’re never on time,” he sniffed. “I bet if you were called to save someone from jumping off a building, you’d arrive after the coroner.”

“Why is it a man jumping and not a woman?” I quipped, my eyes shooting daggers at him.

He scowled, thinking I wasn’t taking his last-minute to-do list seriously.

Harley Davidson and I have been business partners for three years at  Davidson & Welsh Investigations. The decision to partner with him was an easy one. He possessed an unwavering sense of integrity, even when faced with tough choices. He is serious about business but has a  quick wit that can help calm clients down.

But,  I don’t like to-do lists.

So, I added, “And why was I the one called?”  I couldn’t help being flippant because I wasn’t the one getting to go to Los Angeles.

“Ahhhhh,” he screamed, his hands gripping his hair like a man driven to madness.

I can cause that reaction sometimes.

“Okay, okay,” I quickly backed off and backed up, giving him some space. He clearly wasn’t in a joking mood. So, raising my right hand, I solemnly vowed, “I swear that the office will be unlocked, and the lights turned on ten minutes early every day.” I crossed my heart, but without hoping to die. A girl can only go so far.

“Hands,” he demanded.

I extended both of my hands, all fingers uncrossed, as a gesture of goodwill.

“Just be on time. That will be miracle enough,” he stated firmly, staring at me. But there was an upward curve on his lips.  “On time and no Amazon shopping during office hours. I should get back by Saturday night.”

“But…”

“Find new clients.”

“But…” I tried to protest again. No Amazon shopping? Christmas was on Monday!

 

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I meant to be on time.

Only, it was going to be a close call this morning.

 

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I scraped my Toyota Corolla’s windshield.  Some ice, but not bad. I started the engine, and stepped on the gas pedal, causing the front tires to spin a bit before finding traction. If I hurried, I’d be close to keeping my promise.

Feeling good about keeping my promise to Harley, I then spotted the Mr. Yummy’s shop. A caricature of a large-bellied baker placed on the roofline, wearing a tall white hat and holding a tray filled with frosted donuts is hard to miss. On impulse, I turned into the parking lot, thinking, yummy, breakfast. “In and out fast,” I promised myself.

Getting out of the car, my stomach growled, craving a maple bar. I rushed to the front door. Pushed. But the door wouldn’t budge. I checked the neon sign in the upper part of the large front window, OPEN. Cupping my hands to prevent reflection, I peered into the store. The lights were on. Yet, squinting, I realized the display cases were empty of donuts. Sold out? Not likely.

With each passing minute, my lateness became more pressing, so I headed back to the car. Suddenly, I caught a whiff of something. Something’s on fire. Following my nose, I made my way around the shop to the back door, which was slightly ajar. Cautiously, I stuck my head inside and called out, “Anyone here?”

This wasn’t my first time at Mr. Yummy’s. In fact, I was a frequent customer and had gotten to know the owner, Eric Kenny. Upon entering the sweltering bakery, a repugnant stench made my nose itch and overwhelmed the fragrance of swizzling donuts.

Pallets stacked with cans of oil and cartons of Mr. Yummy’s mixes blocked a clear view. Moving further into the room, I saw a work counter with dough mounds covered in flour, rising. Just beyond there, a small collection of racks displaying donuts, waiting to be glazed.

“Hello? The front door is locked even though the sign says open,” I announced, thinking the owner wasn’t aware of the fact.

Then, I saw him. His arms were hugging a large stainless-steel tub, desperately trying to stop it from falling.

“Mr. Kenny?” I shouted, rushing over to him. His head floated on a vat of oil. His one visible eye, scorched yellow, had popped and stared straight at me.

“Eric!” I grabbed his shoulders and pulled back hard, hauling his head out of the vat. I continued pulling, bringing his body almost into a stand, where we both teetered.

“I can’t hold you,” I shouted, as if his injury caused deafness.  For a moment he seemed to know someone was trying to help him. He stood. If I had been thinking clearly, I’d have recognized this was an anomaly, a slight moment when laws of physics hold before gravity takes over. But I wasn’t thinking. I was yelling, “You’re going to be okay,” trying to keep him standing. However, I couldn’t hold him. He was much too heavy. His body toppled to the floor, taking me down with him.

My encouragement changed to, “Help!”

The smell of his charred flesh invaded my nostrils, causing my stomach to churn. I gagged, pushed, and wiggled to free myself from underneath him. Finally, I yelled, innocently, but stupidly, “Get off me.”

Call it pure, straight-up terror.

I struggled to breathe, each breath triggering me to gag.

Holding my breath, I wiggled, scooted, pushed– wriggled, scooted, and pushed some more, desperately trying to escape. But my 110-pound—possibly 120-pound body—couldn’t match his solid 200 pounds. However, somehow, I slid beneath his shoulder and arm, relieving the heavier weight of his chest and stomach. I crawled out from under him. Then I saw his white chef’s hat lying underneath the tub. And something else–donut dough?

I rushed to the sink and vomited.

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PARENTING ON A WRITER’S SCHEDULE

 

I could have said: Finding time to write when parenting. But parenting is a lifelong duty. Just because babies turn into toddlers, who then turn into kiddos and eventually grow up and fly off on their own, doesn’t mean parents finish parenting. Because, then, comes the furry babies. There is nothing better than having a baby in the house.

But where do I find time for myself in all of this? And for me, that means writing. Whether journaling, blogging, writing short stories or novels, finding the time to center yourself and connect to your creative self is important. Just as important as brushing your teeth, cleaning your house, paying the bills, or taking that furry baby out for a walk.

The best way I have found to do this is to get up early. Calculating my house’s wake time, I set my clock for two hours earlier. I then make a list of the “life necessities” I need to get done for the day, and I put this list in my LIFE box for later. Everyone should have a LIFE box. A special box you have created for problems you want to let go of, worries you can’t control, or things that need to be done when there is time. Feel free to be creative with these lists so that when you open your LIFE box, you can pull out the list you want to face for the day. Post-it notes are great for this. Color-code your LIFE. BLUE for Worries. PINK for Do Today, YELLOW for When You Get Extra Time, and don’t forget a Wish post, PURPLE. Once the post goes into the LIFE box, I don’t touch it again until LIFE awakens.

Funny note: Sometimes, I have to clean out my LIFE box, and when I do, I end up throwing away so many notes. Worry I had that became irrelevant or solved itself without my help. Go figure. Finding out I over PINKed my LIFE box. Instead of twenty pink Post-its, my sanity can really only handle ten. I usually ignore the YELLOW, but I always feel good putting this note in my box, thinking I might get to it one day. And PURPLE. Sometimes, I wish for things, and in time, I find taking my furry on a walk is just as good.

 

I would love to hear about your LIFE box or your suggestion on scheduling LIFE for your writing. Contact me here or email me at dj@djadamson.com.

Also, the first five people who do comment on this post will receive a FREE Digital of my newest book, COOKIN’ UP MURDER.

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D. J. Adamson is an accomplished author known for her captivating storytelling and engaging characters. She has established herself as a prominent figure in the world of mystery and suspense fiction. Her work draws inspiration from classic detective novels and contemporary thrillers. Adamson’s literary journey began at a young age, and she continued the journey through her life, recently embarking on her work with novels and her exceptional ability to create immersive worlds and multifaceted characters. She developed her own unique style that combines elements of suspense, intrigue and psychological depth. Beyond her novels, Adamson has contributed to various literary journals and anthologies, sharing her insights and expertise with fellow writers and enthusiasts. Her work has gained a loyal following and her novels praised for their intricate plotting and masterful storytelling. When not immersed in the world of writing, Adamson enjoys the Central CA coast, traveling, and the outdoors. She also engages with her readers through various platforms, fostering a strong connection and appreciation for the support she receives from her dedicated fan base. Readers can connect with her through her website at www.djadamson.com.

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Book Details:

The Mark of the Salamander by Justin Newland
Category:  Adult Fiction (18 +),  246 pages
GenreHistorical Fiction and Magical Realism 
Publisher:  The Book Guild
Release date:  September 2023
Content Rating: PG-13 +M. Mild sex and cruelty. Mature themes.

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Book Description:

1575.

Nelan Michaels is a young Flemish man fleeing religious persecution in the Spanish Netherlands. Settling in Mortlake outside London, he studies under Queen Elizabeth’s court astrologer, conjuring a bright future – until he’s wrongly accused of murder. Forced into the life of a fugitive, Nelan hides in London, before he is dramatically pressed into the crew of the Golden Hind. Thrust into a strange new world on board Francis Drake’s vessel, Nelan sails the seas on a voyage to discover discovery itself. Encountering mutiny, ancient tribes and hordes of treasure, Nelan must explore and master his own mystical powers – including the Mark of the Salamander, the mysterious spirit of fire.

THE MARK OF THE SALAMANDER is the first in The Island of Angels series: a two-book saga that tells the epic story and secret history of England’s coming of age during the Elizabethan era.

 
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Author Guest Post
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My latest historical fiction novel, The Mark of the Salamander, has just hit the shelves. It’s the first title in a two-book series, The Island of Angels, which tells the epic story and secret history of England’s coming of age during the Elizabethan era.

This is blog is about the title, namely The Mark of the Salamander. 

First of all, what is a salamander? Well, it’s a spirit of fire.

In Medieval times, Paracelsus, the great Swiss alchemist, identified the four beings or spirits of the elements. While the salamander is the fire elemental, gnomes inhabit the earth, undines swim in the waters of the oceans, and sylphs are air spirits.

As a spirit of fire, the salamander is a lithe creature that occupied the other world, and so would only be appear to be seen those who had the eyes to see them. Just like the other three elemental spirits, the salamander had healing properties, and had to those it attended, it gave the power of foresight, and of insight into the future.

Fire is fascinating. It lives, it’s alive. At the hearth, it warms, and yet it destroys. It melts, it smelts, and it cleanses. It houses the phoenix who rises from the ashes, it begets new birth, and yet Hell is full of the stuff.

It’s the living fire, the fire that we breathe that’s inside the air, the flame of life and living.

And there’s a ruby salamander mentioned in the novel. The idea of it came from this image of a ruby salamander pendant. Gold filigree set with rubies, it was recovered from a Spanish galleon off the coast of Northern Ireland some years after the Armada. So, although it was probably not part of the treasure taken by Drake from the Spanish ship, the Cacafuego, the fact that it was a salamander gave me the idea to use it in the novel.

What about the mark, the mark of the salamander? What’s that?

Well, I got the idea from the Ancient Greek myth about the warrior Achilles. The legend goes that his mother dipped him into the River Styx to make his entire body invulnerable, except for the part of his foot where she held him—the proverbial Achilles heel. That was his identifying feature, in his case, his weakness and ultimately, his destiny.

In a similar way, Nelan, the hero of my novel, is born with three wavy lines beneath the middle finger of his right hand. That’s the mark of the salamander. That way, his supernatural powers, such as clairvoyance, ESP, and telepathy, can be identified with a physical feature, an actual mark on the body.

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Meet the Author:

JUSTIN NEWLAND’s novels represent an innovative blend of genres from historical adventure to supernatural thriller and magical realism. His stories explore the themes of war and religion, and speculate on the human’s spiritual place in the universe.

Undeterred by the award of a Doctorate in Mathematics from Imperial College, London, he conceived his debut novel, The Genes of Isis (Matador, 2018), an epic fantasy set under Ancient Egyptian skies.

The historical thriller, The Old Dragon’s Head (Matador, 2018), is set in Ming Dynasty China in the shadows of the Great Wall.

The Coronation (Matador, 2019) was another historical adventure and speculates on the genesis of the most important event in the modern world – the Industrial Revolution.

The Abdication (Matador, 2021) is a mystery thriller in which a young woman confronts her faith in a higher purpose and what it means to abdicate that faith.

The Mark of the Salamander (Book Guild, 2023) is the first in a two-book series, The Island of Angels. Set in the Elizabethan era, it’s an epic tale of England’s coming of age.

His work in progress is the second in the series, The Midnight of Eights, the charting of the uncanny coincidences that led to the repulse of the Spanish Armada.

Author, speaker and broadcaster, Justin appears on LitFest panels, gives talks to historical associations and libraries and enjoys giving radio interviews and making podcasts. Born three days before the end of 1953, he lives with his partner in plain sight of the Mendip Hills in Somerset, England.

connect with the author:
website twitter ~ facebook instagram pinterest bookbub goodreads

 
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THE MARK OF THE SALAMANDER Book Tour Giveaway

 

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.