Archive for March 21, 2025

 

Shake-speared in the Park by Joy Ann Ribar Banner

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SHAKE-SPEARED IN THE PARK
by Joy Ann Ribar
March 17th – April 11, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A BAY BROWNING MYSTERY

 

When Bay Browning helps direct the Flourish College summer theater production, “Shakespeare’s Couch,” she doesn’t plan for murder at the first practice.

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Someone wants revenge against the elite cast members, as more terror unfolds on stage and backstage with each rehearsal. What should be a lighthearted parody on The Bard and his characters is cursed from the start, even without someone shouting “Macbeth” in the theater. Detective Downing takes charge of the crime, but Bay and her puzzle-solving cohort, Jen Yoo, follow their own script behind the scenes. Cassandra, Bay’s extraordinary sister, makes her own dramatic entrance on the case. After all, Cass is now the personal assistant to one of the elites living the high life on the bluff above Prairie Ridge. How many tragic scenes will be scripted before the villain faces the final curtain? .

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Praise for Shake-speared in the Park:

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“A clever cozy that reads like an elusive buried treasure, that, once uncovered, shines with a burnished gold. Shakespearean scholars can revel throughout, as a college summer play, Shakespeare’s Couch, features a myriad of familiar characters, representing their plays. A costume party with more Shakespearean identities milling about provides sheer fun and frolic. The best part, however, is the thorough depiction of humanity, characteristic of Ribar’s writing. Even secondary characters come alive with strengths and foibles that delight and endear.” ~ Saralyn Richard, author of the Detective Parrott mystery series, Bad Blood Sisters, and Mrs. Oliver’s Twist

“Ribar serves up wicked, clever fun in ‘Shake-speared in the Park,’ the second installment in her Bay Browning mystery series. A young man with much promise falls from a stage-prop balcony. He’s dead when he lands, but that’s not what killed him. Was his brother, the wayward son, involved? His best friend? Or one of the wealthy equestrian crowd? Then, another death, this time in a greenhouse. It’s like ‘Knives Out’ meets Agatha Christie. Suspects abound. Two sisters—one a killer magnet, the other an ex-con—are determined to find out. The escalating tempo keeps readers on the edge of their seats until the end!” ~ Laurie Buchanan, author of the Sean McPherson crime thriller novels

“In this fast-paced mystery and nod to Shakespeare, the murderous shenanigans would please the Bard himself! Professor Bay Browning’s play rehearsals go awry with deadly weapons, poisons, and just about anything else a playwright might use to scare or ‘off’ someone in dramatic fashion. As in ‘Romeo & Juliet,’ differences of class and money between families put a small Wisconsin college and Bay in the crosshairs. Replete with a twisty costume party, this novel opens the curtain on an entertaining theater production with actors poised to take their final bow, pun intended. Ribar balances scenes effectively between amateur detectives Bay and her sister Cass, the latter a plant aficionado and former prison inmate. To borrow from the Bard, ‘To read or not to read?’ The answer is easy: This is fun.” ~ Christine DeSmet, author, Fudge Shop Mystery Series and Mischief in Moonstone Series

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Book Details:

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Genre: Blended Mystery: Traditional Mystery with Paranormal Twists

Published by: Wine Glass Press Publication Date: February 2025 Number of Pages: 359 ISBN: 9781959078272 (ISBN10: 1959078275) Series: Bay Browning Mysteries: Book Two

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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Carillon Tower Park was buzzing with activity when Bay arrived for rehearsal. Desmond Carver, the director, was only steps ahead of her, so she dashed to catch up. Bay smiled at his signature bobbing walk on those extra-long legs that might belong to a pro basketball player instead of a theater professor.

“Desmond, hey. Looks like the students are psyched about the show.” Bay nodded toward the outdoor theater area where a portable tech booth had been set up. People inside were testing spotlights and sound effects.

The stage was midway through set construction showing false stone walls and two framed second story balconies. Someone was sweeping the stage free of pine needles, while a couple of others were taping the floor where furniture would go. Bay waved at Jen Yoo, her art professor friend, who was painting a flat with some students.

“It’s a positive sign when they show up early. Believe me, once we’re in the trenches, some will find reasons not to show up at all.” Desmond set a stack of scripts on one of the seats near the middle of the theater. “Actors,” he said using air quotes around the word. Bay’s optimism didn’t dwindle. She was pleased with the turnout for auditions, considering it was a summer production, meaning many students were gone or working. The fact she and Desmond had backups for the main roles revealed enthusiasm for the show. Desmond handed her a theater badge and key for the rooms beyond the stage. “By the way, in case I forget later, thanks so much for volunteering to help with the play. It can be a thankless job.” Bay grinned but wondered why Desmond was being so pessimistic. He wasn’t close to retirement, maybe ten years older than Bay, and she’d pegged him as carefree and upbeat. Then again, in the two years she’d been a Flourish professor, she’d had a handful of short conversations with him. At seven p.m. on the dot, the clock tower bell rang out the hour and Desmond spoke through a megaphone he’d brought to rehearsal. “Let’s get going. We start on time. We end on time. That’s my number one rule.” To Bay’s surprise, every student hushed without delay. She’d heard Desmond was respected, and he knew these students from past plays. Many were seniors doing a final postgraduation show before entering the real world. “For the first few rehearsals, we’re going to need to work around the set builders and the tech crew setting up lights and testing sounds. This isn’t a typical show. Summer theater is a shortened schedule, so we’re putting an entire production together in short order.” Desmond handed printed schedules to Bay, who passed them out to the actors and crew. It wasn’t quite June, thankfully, because performances were marked for the last week of that month, just past the celebration of Midsummer on June twenty-fourth. “You’ll notice on the schedule that all lines must be memorized by June tenth. That’s two weeks, my friends. Let’s make it happen.” Desmond used his teacher voice. Even Bay snapped to attention. “Places everyone. We’ll start with the prologue and go straight through from act one as far as we can until eight-thirty. The script notes some introductory music, but we won’t add that for a couple of weeks. Proceed, Kitt.” Bay and Desmond watched from the back third of the theater, taking notes as lines were delivered, stopping when necessary to help with enunciation or cadence. At the end of the second act, Desmond announced a seven-minute break, then headed to the tech booth to talk about lighting. Bay noticed he seemed nervous about the tech crew being run by an intern. His normal production partner, Leo, another theater professor, was spending summer break in New York City at a Broadway intensive master class. Leo recommended a theater grad student from Madison to take his place. As lights flashed on and off in different positions, Bay watched the techies at the booth. Desmond pointed at the script as intern Evan made notes, then flashed the light Desmond asked for. Bay noticed Evan’s body posture: alert, attentive, like a golden retriever eager to please. In contrast, Desmond alternated running a hand through the twists on top of his head, placing his hands on his hips, then rubbing the back of his neck before repeating the moves again. “That looks intense.” Jen Yoo was sitting by Bay, a clean paint brush in one hand. “Hey, Jen. Yes, I’ve never seen this side of Desmond. How about you?” Jen shrugged. “I haven’t worked on a summer production in some time. The younger Desmond was laid-back. But some of us lose our patience as we age. Thankfully, I don’t have that problem.” She snickered. Bay turned her full attention to Jen. “Why are you working on this production, anyway?” “Two reasons. One: It fulfills my volunteer hours for the whole year. Two: It’s a show you wrote. I’m proud of you and want to see how it turns out.” Jen leaned her head over to meet Bay’s. With break wrapping up, chatter from the stage echoed around the quiet outdoors. When a commotion ensued, Bay chalked it up to high energy from a new show, the honeymoon period. But then a loud thud sounded, someone began shrieking, and a cacophony of shouts and running feet ensued. Bay, Jen, and Desmond ran to the stage, with the tech crew close behind. The adults vaulted onto the stage where the lead actor, Talon Hunt, lay crumpled in a twisted heap. “Everybody back up,” Desmond shouted. “He fell off the balcony,” one of the students called out. “I didn’t mean to. We were goofing around, practicing a duel.” Jackson Lange knelt over Talon, his chest heaving, his face distraught. Desmond, Jen, and Bay knelt beside Talon too, and Jackson stood up and looked away. Desmond checked Talon’s pulse, shook his head, listened for a heartbeat, and shook his head again. Bay called 911. “Let’s straighten him a bit so I can do CPR.” Desmond motioned for Jen and Bay to get on either side of his legs and they gingerly turned him. Desmond was still administering chest compressions and breaths when the emergency team arrived to take over. Thirty minutes later, the EMTs pronounced Talon dead. *** Excerpt from Shake-speared in the Park by Joy Ann Ribar. Copyright 2025 by Joy Ann Ribar. Reproduced with permission from Joy Ann Ribar. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Joy Ann Ribar:

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Joy Ann Ribar

Joy Ann Ribar is an RV author, writing on the road wherever her husband and their Winnebago View wanders. Joy’s cocktail of careers includes news reporter, paralegal, English educator, and aquaponics greenhouse technician, all of which prove useful in penning mysteries. Her cozy Deep Lakes Mysteries, feature baker/vintner Frankie Champagne, who moonlights as an investigative reporter. Joy’s Bay Browning Mysteries blend edgy, traditional, and paranormal elements twisted around classical literary themes. Joy loves to bake, read, research wines, and explore nature. Her writing has received awards and recognition from WWA, PenCraft Book Awards, Book Fest, Reader’s Favorite, and Chanticleer Cozy and Not-So-Cozy awards.

Catch Up With Joy Ann Ribar:

JoyRibar.com Joy’s Substack Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @ribarjoy Instagram – @authorjoyribar Facebook – @JoyRibarAuthor

 

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The Fallen Guardian

by Dawn Chartier

 

Publication date: March 14th 2025
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

*When Darkness Tempts the Divine*

Gracyn James has made vengeance her life’s mission. Haunted by the brutal murder of her family, she survives on the streets with The Inciters, a vigilante group that delivers justice to society’s worst. But her ultimate goal remains elusive: finding her father and uncovering why he destroyed her world. When a deadly encounter with the seductive and powerful Angel of Death, leaves her faction annihilated, she’s forced into an uneasy alliance.

Lucien Ward, a fallen Guardian with a shadowed past, is on a mission of his own. Stripped of his former glory, he hunts for the truth behind his family’s downfall while fulfilling his grim duties as the Angel of Death. Gracyn’s fiery spirit—and an uncontrollable power she doesn’t yet understand—may be the key to his redemption. Or, she could bring about the end of both their worlds.

In a battle where loyalties blur and fate twists cruelly, can they uncover the truth before their intertwined destinies ignite chaos?

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

She took a moment to really see him before stepping inside. He had a face she’d etch in her mind forever. Rumors about the Angel of Death were wildly inaccurate. No one described him as painfully beautiful. Probably no one left alive to give a firsthand account. He didn’t appear the radiant or Greek god she’d imagined. Nor did he have wings. The Inciters had been wrong about that too. Maybe he wasn’t one of those kinds of Seraphs. His build was that of a fighter. A fighter who’d been through hell and back.

He tilted his head, watching her watch him. Her pulse hitched, but that didn’t stop her from memorizing every detail. Silver-blond hair half pulled back, revealing a prominent hard jaw with a slight scar comparable to the scar her father had.

But those hypnotizing, glowing, golden eyes hid something she couldn’t read. They weren’t angelic. More devilish, if you asked her. Kind of animalistic. Like he would hunt her down and eat her alive if she tried to escape his prison.

“Inside,” he ordered with that whisky-smooth, oh-so-sure voice. He’d turned colder since they’d arrived.

“Wait!” She couldn’t accept this was it. They were supposed to barter. Did he lie?

“Get in,” he ordered.

“I thought we were going to talk. I’ll help you and you’ll help me. That’s what you said.” She’d never forget the face of the Seraph who killed her friends. Poor Collin would never get to become an Inciter like he’d dreamed about. She’d only joined to find her father.

“Inside,” he said sterner. “There’s something I must do first. Move.”

She faced the cell and sighed. “How long will I be in here? When are you coming back?”

A steel urinal-toilet combo hung in one corner, with a white sheet-covered cot against the wall. Was this her new normal? Her new life? The realization of never finding the answers she’d been seeking all this time hit hard, unless the Seraph kept his word.

The wall behind her swooshed closed between them. She spun around and banged on the glass door. “No!” Her reflection stared back at her. “Let me out!” Was he still there, watching her? She frowned and hit the door. Her mouth felt like cotton, and the pressure inside her head was splitting her skull in half. “Can I at least get something for my headache?”

No reply.

This moment was like sealing her fate of never having a real home or family ever again. Her adoptive parents were the closest thing she’d ever had, but she still never felt like she fit in no matter how much love they showed her. She was different. She knew it. They knew it.

Now she was ripped away from ever finding out why her dad had done what he did. Ripped away from her best friend, Drake, too. She’d allowed herself to love him like a brother, even though she knew being with the Inciters was only temporary too. So, where did that leave her? Alone? A prisoner? No, this wasn’t her fate.

She dug her fingernails into her palms. How was she going to escape? She had to make a plan to get out of this. Tell him what she knew in small bites. See if he would search as he’d said. Though she doubted he would. She banged again. Tears welled, and she blinked them back. Don’t let him see you weak. Do not cry. Do not cry.

Even though her heart bled for the slain Inciters and Collin, she had to focus on what to say to get what she wanted, but focusing only forced the image of a bloody Collin on the ground. She swallowed. He’d been through so much and hadn’t deserved to die. He’d reminded her of her little sister before she’d died. Her gaze blurred. She shook her head, refusing to cry.

“Crying is for pussies,” Collin had said once after they’d found him shortly after his stepdad beat the crap out of him. She’d caught the glassiness in his eyes, but he never ever cried. I’ll be strong like you, Collin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you either. The Seraph will pay,” she whispered.

Why had she fallen asleep at the warehouse? Sure, she was sick, but she shouldn’t have ever listened to him. She’d trusted the others to keep him safe, but they weren’t strong enough.

Luckily, Drake had gone to his godmother’s or she might’ve lost him too. He’d be devastated when he found Collin and the others. He’d blame himself. A tear slipped, and she slapped it dry. He was probably searching for her now, but would he even know where to look? He never once mentioned where the Seraphs were. Dammit. She was screwed.

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About Author Dawn Chartier:

Dawn Chartier is a contemporary and paranormal romance author known for crafting emotionally resonant stories with compelling characters and vivid worlds. With a background in construction, Dawn brings a keen eye for detail to her writing, creating immersive settings that captivate readers. She has published several romance novels, earning praise for her ability to blend heartfelt romance with suspense and supernatural elements. Dawn lives in the South with her family, where she finds inspiration in the lush landscapes and unique culture of her surroundings. When she’s not writing, she enjoys exploring local cuisine, chilling on the beach and diving into a great book.

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