Archive for the ‘Mystery’ Category

Deadly Target

by Elizabeth Goddard

November 1-30, 2021 Virtual Book Tour

.

Synopsis:
Deadly Target by Elizabeth Goddard

Criminal psychologist Erin Larson’s dreams of a successful career come to a screeching halt when she nearly loses her own life in a boating accident on Puget Sound and then learns that her mother tried to commit suicide. She leaves her job as a criminal psychologist to care for her mother in Montana. At least she is able to produce her podcast, which focuses on solving missing persons cold cases.

Nathan Campbell’s father was investigating such a case when he was shot, and now Nathan needs to enlist Erin’s help to solve the case. She’s good at what she does. The only problem? She’s his ex.

As the two dig deeper, it becomes clear that they, too, are being targeted–and that the answers to their questions are buried deep within the past Erin struggles to explain and longs to forget.

The race is on for the truth in this gripping and complex tale of suspense, intrigue, and murder from USA Today bestselling author Elizabeth Goddard.

.

.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery, Suspense

Published by: Revell Publication Date: November 2nd 2021 Number of Pages: 336 ISBN: 0800737997 (ISBN13: 9780800737993) Series: Rocky Mountain Courage #2 || This is a Stand-Alone Novel

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | ChristianBook.com | IndieBound.Org

Read an excerpt:
1 Puget Sound For a few hours every Saturday morning, Erin Larson could forget that evil existed. And usually, only on the water. She dipped the double-bladed paddle into the sea, then again on the other side—left, right, left, right, left, right—alternating strokes in a fluid motion to propel her kayak across the blue depths. Her friend Carissa Edwards paddled close behind. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right. On the water she was close to nature and far from the chaos and noise of the city even though she and Carissa paddled along the shoreline and could see the cityscape in the distance. The quiet calmed her mind and heart. The rhythmic paddling mesmerized her. The exertion exhilarated her. Cleansed her of the stress and anxiety acquired after a week of forced labor. Okay, that wasn’t fair. Her suffering certainly wasn’t physical in nature. Water. Mountains. Sky. She took in the sights and once again . . . forgot. Beautiful snowcapped Mount Baker—the Great White Watcher—loomed large in the distance to the east. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right. The slosh of paddles along with the small waves lapping against her boat soothed her and were the only sounds except for seagulls laughing above her—ha, ha, ha. To the west, the impressive Olympic Mountains begged for attention. Erin couldn’t wait for Mom to join her out here, when she finally convinced her to move. A salty ocean breeze wafted over her as peace and beauty surrounded her. She couldn’t ask for more. She shouldn’t ask for more. But God . . . I need answers. Carissa caught up with Erin and paddled next to her kayak. “Thanks for coming with me today. I needed this.” “The exercise or the scenery?” Erin had just broken a sweat despite the early morning cool. “How about a little of both. And the company makes all the difference, I’m not going to lie.” “Yeah,” Erin answered with reluctance. She and Carissa had an understanding between them. On their kayaking excursions, peace and quiet were supposed to reign. “By the way, I listened to your podcast last night,” Carissa said. Maybe she’d forgotten their unspoken pact. “Oh?” Erin wanted to know Carissa’s thoughts, but at the same time, she didn’t want to hear the criticism. Nor would she trust any praise. “Why keep it anonymous?” “It could get complicated.” Carissa’s laugh echoed across the water. “In my case, I’d probably want the dean of the college and my students to know. But then again, I wouldn’t be talking about crime or missing people. I’d be talking about history. So, what took you so long to tell me?” Erin lifted a shoulder, opting for silence. Maybe it would be contagious. Now she wished she hadn’t told Carissa, but letting her friend in on her secret was a step toward opening up. She kept too much hidden inside. Erin had never been good at letting others in. Although as a psychologist, she was all about learning what made people tick on the inside. Erin breathed in the fresh air, listened to the mesmerizing ripple of the water, felt the warm sun against her cheeks, and chased away thoughts of crime and work. “Cold cases. Do they ever get solved?” Carissa asked. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right. “Some do.” Few. “Why do you do it?” “I need a hobby, I guess.” Erin couldn’t begin to explain the complex events that drove her to talk about missing person cold cases in hopes that answers could still be found. “I’ve been thinking.” Carissa’s kayak inched ahead. Erin remained silent. “We do this every Saturday,” Carissa continued. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right. “It’s been a lifesaver,” Erin said. “Thanks for inviting me along.” After a week working for the State of Washington, the endless hours spent researching and writing reports for forensic evaluations, she needed the break. The job wasn’t what she had dreamed about when she’d become a criminal psychologist. Still, she hoped it was a means to an end. In the meantime, she’d started the cold case crime podcast. “How about we switch it up? Go hiking. Mountain trails and lush forests all around us.” “This is close. We don’t have to drive far. Plus, I really love the water.” And have an aversion to dense forests. Carissa didn’t need to know that, as a psychologist, Erin was a walking oxymoron. “I thought you might enjoy a change.” “No, I’m good with this.” Erin’s shoulders and biceps started burning. She was relieved they would soon turn around and head back. “I hope you’ll think about it. I’d love for you to join me next weekend. I’m hiking in Mount Baker National Forest, and I’m inviting you to join the group.” “What? You’re ditching me to go hiking?” “Um . . . Is it just me, or is that boat heading directly for us?” Panic edged Carissa’s voice. Erin glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Carissa’s wide-eyed stare. A thirty-foot cruiser sped toward them. She and Carissa had strayed a bit from the shoreline. Regardless, that boat shouldn’t be approaching them in this area or at that speed. “Hurry.” Erin quickened her pace. “We can get out of its path.” “We won’t make it.” Carissa stopped and raised her paddle, waving to get the boater’s attention. “Hey, watch where you’re going! Kayakers on the water!” Arms straining, Erin paddled faster and propelled the kayak forward. Her friend hadn’t kept up. “Carissa, let’s go! Just angle out of the path.” Carissa renewed her efforts and joined Erin. Together they paddled toward the shoreline that had seemed so much closer moments before. Carissa screamed. Heart pounding, Erin glanced over her shoulder. The boat had changed course and was once again headed straight for them. Fear stole her breath. “Jump! Get out of the boat and dive!” It was all she could think to do. “Now, now, now!” She sucked in a breath and leaned forward to flip the kayak until she was upside down in the water for a wet exit. Holding her breath, she found the grab loop and peeled off the skirt. Then she gripped the sides and pushed the kayak away from her body as she slid out. Instead of heading for the surface, she kicked and dove deeper. She was grateful she was wearing a manually inflatable life vest over her wetsuit or it would drag her back to the surface, which was normally a good thing. But today that could get her killed. She pushed deeper, deeper, deeper . . . away from the surface. We’re going to make it. Erin twisted around to glance upward. The water was murky and visibility was only about ten feet, but she could still see her friend struggling to get free of her kayak. Terror stabbed through her. Erin swam back to Carissa to help her, even as the boat raced toward the kayaks and was almost on them. Her eyes wide, Carissa pushed forward, freeing herself. The hull of the speeding boat sped right over the top of the kayaks, breaking Carissa’s in half—the stern of her broken kayak propelled toward Carissa. Her head jerked forward. All the bubbles of air burst from her lungs, then her form floated—unmoving. Unconscious? Or was she lifeless? Her pulse thundering in her ears, Erin swam toward Carissa, grabbed her, and inflated their life vests. They rose quickly to the surface. Erin broke the water and gasped for breath as she held Carissa. The water remained disturbed from the speeding boat’s wake and crashed over them. Erin confirmed what she already feared. Carissa wasn’t breathing. Adrenaline surged through her. She had to keep moving. Holding on to Carissa, Erin started swimming them back to shore. She spotted the errant boat making a big circle. Coming back? Had someone lost control? She had to make it to shore to give Carissa CPR. And maybe even to save them both. Stay calm. Panic wouldn’t help either of them. The water was cold, but not so cold that she needed to worry about hypothermia. At least not yet. The whir of a boat from her left drew her attention, kicking up her already rapid heartbeat. As she took in the slowly approaching trawler—a far different boat from the speeding cruiser—relief eased the tension in her shoulders. Three men and a couple of women waved. A silver-haired man in a Seahawks cap shouted, “Do you need help?” “Yes! Hurry!” The boat edged slowly toward her, and she swam to meet it. The men reached down and pulled Carissa up into the boat. Erin used the ladder on the side. “She needs CPR. She’s not breathing!” When she hopped onto the deck, she saw that one of the men had started administering CPR. A redheaded woman wrapped a blanket around Erin. “Oh, honey, are you okay?” Hot tears burned down her cold, wet cheeks. “No . . . no, I’m not okay.” She dropped to her knees next to her friend. Carissa coughed up water and rolled onto her side. When she’d finished expelling seawater, she sat up and looked around. Erin hugged her and spoke against her short, wet hair. “I thought you were done for.” Carissa held on to Erin tightly, then released her to cough more. Erin took in the group standing around them, their watchful eyes filled with concern. “I’m Vince. And this is my wife, Jessie.” The man with the Seahawks cap gestured to the redhead, then made introductions. John, his son, and Terry, John’s friend, and Mavis, John’s girlfriend. A family affair. “I’m Erin, and this is Carissa.” Jessie placed a blanket around Carissa. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll get you something warm to drink.” “Thank you.” Erin sat with Carissa on the cushioned bench and took in her friend. She looked shell-shocked, and why shouldn’t she? Was she going to be okay? Carissa closed her eyes. Was she in pain or thinking back to what happened? Jessie had disappeared below deck to grab warm drinks. Mavis, Terry, and John were trying to recover the kayaks and bring them onto the trawler. Vince remained standing, his arms crossed as if he were a sentinel sent to protect them. And at this moment, Erin needed that reassurance. “If you hadn’t come when you did,” she said, “I don’t know what would have happened. I can’t thank you enough.” She searched the waters around them. “Is that boat . . . Is it gone?” “What boat?” Mavis approached and glanced at Vince. “You didn’t see that?” Erin got to her feet and pulled Carissa with her. She searched the waters. “A boat came right for us. Ran over our kayaks and almost killed us. They must have lost control. Maybe they were drunk or something.” “I saw a boat heading west,” Vince said, “but I didn’t connect that to seeing you in the water swimming to shore. Kayaks and canoes are hard to spot sometimes. I’m sorry that happened. But I’ll contact the Seattle Police Harbor Patrol and let them know. In the meantime, is there somewhere we can take you?” “Back to the marina at Port of Edmonds. We could talk to the police there and tell them what happened,” Erin said. Vince eyed Carissa. “I’ll let SPHP know we’re on the way and to meet us there. Should we get you to the hospital?” Erin shared a look with her friend. “She sustained a hit to the head. Maybe an ambulance could be waiting for us when we get to the harbor.” Carissa nodded but said nothing. Erin ached inside. She’d almost lost Carissa. She was grateful that her friend had survived. They had both survived. Erin replayed the events in her mind. Had the boat deliberately veered toward them or had she imagined it? These boaters who’d helped them had simply been out enjoying the day when they spotted Erin and Carissa in the water, their kayaks floating, Carissa’s in two pieces. I can’t believe this happened. The water had been her place of peace and tranquility. But no more. Erin pulled her ringing cell from the plastic bag tucked in a pocket on her suit. She didn’t recognize the number, but it was a Montana prefix. Her heart jackhammered as she answered, “Erin.” “Dr. Larson . . . Erin.” The familiar male voice hesitated. “This is Detective Nathan Campbell.” Dread crawled up her spine. Nathan would never call her without a good reason. “Nathan . . . what’s going on?” “It’s . . . your mom. She’s okay. But she tried to commit suicide. I’m so sorry.” A few heartbeats passed before she could answer. “Wha . . . What?” Nathan apologized again and repeated the words. The air rushed from Erin. She couldn’t breathe and stood. She headed for the rail and hung her head over the water, gasping for breath. “Erin! Erin, are you there?” Nathan’s concerned voice shouted over the cell loud enough she could hear him despite the boat’s rumbling engine and rushing water. Carissa joined her at the rail. “Erin, what’s happened?” The darkness closed in on her all over again, but this was different from before. Why hadn’t she seen the warning signs? She had to fix this. Squeezing her eyes shut, she lifted the cell to her ear again. “I need details.” Nathan relayed that her mother was in the hospital and in stable condition. Ending the call, she stared at the cell. Mom was in trouble. The fact that the awful news had come from the man she’d left behind compounded the pain in her chest. This, after she and Carissa had barely survived a boating accident. Evil wouldn’t let her forget that it existed, even for a few hours. *** Excerpt from Deadly Target by Elizabeth Goddard. Copyright 2021 by Elizabeth Goddard. Reproduced with permission from Baker Publishing Group. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Elizabeth Goddard:
Elizabeth Goddard

Elizabeth Goddard is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of more than fifty novels, including Present Danger and the Uncommon Justice series. Her books have sold over one million copies. She is a Carol Award winner and a Daphne du Maurier Award finalist. When she’s not writing, she loves spending time with her family, traveling to find inspiration for her next book, and serving with her husband in ministry.

For more information about Elizabeth Goddard, visit her website at: www.ElizabethGoddard.com Goodreads BookBub – @ElizabethGoddard Instagram – @elizabethgoddardauthor Twitter – @bethgoddard Facebook – @ElizabethGoddardAuthor

 

GIVEAWAY

. a Rafflecopter giveaway  

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Haunted Ends: Dead In The Water organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Elizabeth Price will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour and more chances to win.

Haunted Ends: Dead In The Water

by Elizabeth Price

Genre: Paranormal Mystery / Horror

Synopsis

The crew of Haunted Ends is diverted from filming their show when a cursed and extremely haunted pirate ship, the Serpents Cross, docks off the coast of San Francisco. After repeated attempts by the Coast Guard to tow the pirate ship back to the sea have left many hospitalized, they call Rocky and Sam to help. The paranormal duo must persuade the Serpents Cross’ phantom captain to leave San Francisco Bay peacefully. However, if the Captain’s requests are not satisfied, he has deadly plans for the citizens of San Francisco.

Amazon

Enjoy this peek inside:

Rocky said then tapped his phone. “Rose, would you believe I was just about to call you. Sam—“

 

He paused, listening to Rose on the phone. “The news? Yes, it’s on in the bar. I was wondering why all the residents were watching. Hold on.” He waved for Sam to follow him into the bar.

 

At the doorway of the bar, he watched one of the televisions. The news was featuring a rather peculiar ship that resembled the Flying Dutchmen.  For some unknown reason the ship had floated into San Francisco Bay.

 

Sam pointed to the television. “That’s what I wanted to call her about. I watched that ship float into the bay around sunrise. I was with Arthur when he saw it and he completely freaked out,” he said, excitement ringing in his voice.

 

“Wait,” Rocky held his hand over the phone’s receiver. “You were with Arthur? That low-unlife? Seriously, Sam, he’s a bad influence. You don’t need to be hanging around that—!”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “The point is that Arthur knew that ship. He called it the… the…” he smacked his forehead to think, “…the Serpent’s Cross. That’s it!” he exclaimed. “He took off as soon as he saw it, leaving Alexis and me behind. He looked like he had seen the devil,” he added.

 

“Alexis too?” Rocky huffed. “Come on, Sam. You’re floating with the wrong crowd. You’re going to get yourself in trouble,” he groaned.

 

Sam waved him on. “Yes, mom. I’m dead. I could hang out with Al Capone if I wanted. It’s not like I couldn’t get any deader than I already am,” he mentioned. He pointed to the television again. “How about focusing on the real problem. That ship shouldn’t be here let alone be seen by the living.”

 

“Rocky!” Rose screamed through the phone.

 

Rocky placed the phone back to his ear. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. No, it’s Sam jabbering on about this ship.”

 

“Jabbering? Do I look like a jabberer to you?” Sam asked a passing spirit. The spirit turned to him, looked him up and down, then continued into the bar to watch the television.

 

 “Sam says that a friend,” Rocky sneered in disgust, “told him that the ship’s name was the Serpent’s Cross. This friend is an old ghost, so I can only assume it’s a really old ship. What was that? Oh, is it Haunted?” He glanced at Sam, who shrugged.

 

“Skeletons were hanging out on the deck, you tell me,” Sam spoke condescendingly back.

 

 Rocky held his hand over the receiver. “Skeletons?” he asked. Sam nodded. “Yeah, we’re not sure. Assume it is. Oh, okay. We can do that. I’ll let you know what we find.” He hung up the phone.

 

“What did she say?” Sam asked.

 

“She wants us to grab Marcus and check it out,” he said, walking back to his room to grab his Haunted Ends gear, T-shirt, and baseball cap.

 

Sam followed Rocky back into the lobby. “Investigate an ancient ship filled with walking skeletons? Is she crazy?”

 

“You already know that answer,” Rocky jabbed back.

 

“Okay, okay, no, seriously, that ship has to be crawling with police and the Coast Guard. How are we going to get on board?” Sam questioned.

 

“Apparently,” Rocky glanced to his left thigh were Sam hovered, “they asked for us by name.”

 

“Of course they would.” Sam paused in the hall while Rocky went inside his room to change. His eyes grew wide and he began to nod slowly as he thought. “What could possibly go wrong talking to a ship full of skeletons?”

~~~~~

Author Elizabeth Price

Elizabeth Price is best known for her Paranormal Mystery series Haunted Ends, which makes light of the dark side of death. Born in Southern California, Elizabeth has always been drawn to Science Fiction and fantasy stories. Having also lived and worked in haunted buildings for many years, she has a deep interest in the paranormal and anything that goes “BOO!” in the night – with the exception of critics that is.

 

You can connect with Elizabeth on Facebook at facebook.com/authorelizabethprice or on Twitter @Chaosonpaper. You can also visit her website, espwriter.com, to sign up for emails about new releases.

~~~~~

GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning Banner

Mercy Creek
by M.E. Browning
October 11 – November 5, 2021 Tour

.

Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning

Synopsis:
In an idyllic Colorado town, a young girl goes missing—and the trail leads into the heart and mind of a remorseless killer.

The late summer heat in Echo Valley, Colorado turns lush greenery into a tinder dry landscape. When a young girl mysteriously disappears, long buried grudges rekindle. Of the two Flores girls, Marisa was the one people pegged for trouble. Her younger sister, Lena, was the quiet daughter, dutiful and diligent—right until the moment she vanished.

Detective Jo Wyatt is convinced the eleven-year-old girl didn’t run away and that a more sinister reason lurks behind her disappearance. For Jo, the case is personal, reaching far back into her past. But as she mines Lena’s fractured family life, she unearths a cache of secrets and half-lies that paints a darker picture.

As the evidence mounts, so do the suspects, and when a witness steps forward with a shocking new revelation, Jo is forced to confront her doubts, and her worst fears. Now, it’s just a matter of time before the truth is revealed—or the killer makes another deadly move.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery

Published by: Crooked Lane Books Publication Date: October 12th 2021 Number of Pages: 288 ISBN: 1643857622 (ISBN13: 9781643857626)

Series: A Jo Wyatt Mystery, Book 2 || Each mystery in the A Jo Wyatt Mystery series is a stand alone novel.

Purchase Links: Penguin Random House | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

Everyone had a story from that night. Some saw a man, others saw a girl, still others saw nothing at all but didn’t want to squander the opportunity to be part of something larger than themselves. To varying degrees, they were all wrong. Only two people knew the full truth. That Saturday, visitors to the county fair clustered in the dappled shade cast by carnival rides and rested on hay bales scattered like afterthoughts between games of chance and food booths, the soles of their shoes sticky with ice cream drips and spilled sodas. Detective Jo Wyatt stepped into the shadow of the Hall of Mirrors to watch the crowd. She grabbed the collar of her uniform and pumped it a few times in a futile attempt to push cooler air between her ballistic vest and sweat-sodden T-shirt. The Echo Valley Fair marked the end of summer, but even now, as the relentless Colorado sun dipped, heat rose in waves around bare ankles and stroller wheels as families retreated toward the parking lots. An older crowd began to creep in, prowling the midway. The beer garden overflowed. Within minutes the sun dropped behind the valley walls and the fairground lights flickered to life, their wan orange glow a beacon to moths confused by the strobing brightness of rides and games. Calliope music and the midway’s technopop collided in a crazed mishmash of notes so loud they echoed in Jo’s chest. She raised the volume of her radio. The day shift officers had clocked out having handled nothing more pressing than a man locked out of his car and an allegation of unfair judging flung by the second-place winner of the bake-off. Jo gauged the teeming crowd of unfamiliar faces. Tonight would be different. # Carnival music was creepy, Lena decided. Each ride had its own weird tune and it all seemed to crash against her with equal force, following her no matter where she went. The guys in the booths were louder than they had been earlier, more aggressive, calling out, trying to get her to part with her tickets. Some of the guys roamed, jumping out at people, flicking cards and making jokes she didn’t understand while smiling at her older sister. Marisa tossed her hair. Smiled back. Sometimes they let her play for free. “Let’s go back to the livestock pavilion,” Lena said. “Quit being such a baby.” Marisa glanced over her shoulder at the guy running the shooting gallery booth and tossed her hair. Again. Lena rolled her eyes and wondered how long it would be before her sister ditched her. “Hold up a sec.” Marisa tugged at the hem of her skintight skirt and flopped down on a hay bale. She’d been wearing pants when they’d left the house. The big purse she always carried probably hid an entire wardrobe Momma knew nothing about. Lena wondered if the missing key to grandma’s car was tucked in there too. Marisa unzipped one of her boots and pulled up her thin sock. Lena pointed. “What happened to the bottom of your boot?” Her sister ran her finger along the arch. “I painted it red.” “Why?” “It makes them more valuable.” “Since when does coloring the bottom of your shoes make them more valuable?” Marisa’s eyes lit up in a way that happened whenever she spoke about clothes or how she was going to hit it big in Hollywood someday. “In Paris there’s this guy who designs shoes and all of them have red soles. He’s the only one allowed to do that. It’s his thing.” “But he didn’t make those boots.” “All the famous women wear his shoes.” She waved to someone in the crowd. “You’re not famous and you bought them at Payless.” “What do you know about fashion?” “I know enough not to paint the bottom of my boots to make them look like someone else made them.” Marisa shoved her foot into her boot and yanked the zipper closed. “You bought your boots from the co-op.” She handed Lena her cell phone. “You should have bought yours there, too.” Lena dutifully pointed the lens at her sister. “Take a couple this time.” Marisa leaned back on her hands and arched her back, her hair nearly brushing the hay bale, and the expression on her face pouty like the girls in the magazines she was always looking at. Lena snapped several photos and held out the phone. “All those high heels are good for is punching holes in the ground.” “Oh, Lena.” Marisa’s voice dropped as if she was sharing a secret. “If you ever looked up from your animals long enough, you’d see there’s so much more to the world.” Her thumbs rapidly tapped the tiny keyboard of her phone. In the center of the midway, a carnival guy held a long-handled mallet and called out to people as they passed by. He was older—somewhere in his twenties—and wore a tank top. Green and blue tattoos covered his arms and his biceps bulged as he pointed the oversized hammer at the tower behind him. It looked like a giant thermometer with numbers running along one edge, and High Striker spelled out on the other. “Come on, men. There’s no easier way to impress the ladies.” He grabbed the mallet and tapped the plate. “You just have to find the proper motivation if you want to get it up…” He pointed with his chin to the top of the game and paused dramatically. “There.” He craned his neck and leered at Marisa. Lena wondered if he was looking up her sister’s skirt. “What happens later is up to you.” Never breaking eye contact, he took a mighty swing. The puck raced up the tower, setting off a rainbow of lights and whistles before it smashed into the bell at the top. He winked in their direction. “Score.” Twenty minutes later, Marisa was gone. # Lena gave up looking for her sister and returned to the livestock pavilion. Marisa could keep her music and crowds and stupid friends. Only a few people still wandered around the dimly lit livestock pavilion. The fireworks would start soon and most people headed for the excitement outside, a world away from the comforting sound of animals snuffling and pawing at their bedding. Marisa was probably hanging out near the river with her friends, drinking beer. Maybe smoking a cigarette or even a joint. Doing things she didn’t think her baby sister knew about. Lena walked through an aisle stacked with poultry and rabbit cages. The pens holding goats, swine, and sheep took up the middle. At the back of the pavilion stretched a long row of three-sided cattle stalls. The smells of straw, grain, and animals replaced the gross smell of deep-fried candy bars and churros that had clogged her throat on the midway. Near the end of the row, Lena stopped. “Hey there, Bluebell.” Technically, he was number twenty-four, like his ear tag said. Her father didn’t believe in naming livestock, but to her, he’d always be Bluebell—even after she sold him at the auction to be slaughtered. Just because that was his fate didn’t mean he shouldn’t have a name to be remembered by. She remembered them all. She patted his hip and slid her hand along his spine so he wouldn’t shy as she moved into the stall. She double-checked the halter, pausing to scratch his forehead. A piece of straw swirled in his water bucket and she fished it out. The cold water cooled her hot skin. “You did good today. Sorry I won’t be spending the night with you, but Papa got called out to Dawson’s ranch to stitch up some mare.” He swished his tail and it struck the rail with a metallic ring. “Don’t get yourself all riled. I’ll be back tomorrow before you know it.” If she hadn’t been showing Bluebell this afternoon, she’d have gone with her father. Her sutures had really improved this summer and were almost as neat as his. No one would guess they’d been made by an eleven-year-old. If nothing else, she could have helped keep the horse calm. Instead, she’d go home with Marisa and spend the night at Momma’s. She wondered if Marisa would show up before the 4-H leader called lights out in the pavilion or if Lena would have to walk to her mom’s house by herself in the dark. She reached down and jiggled the feed pan to smooth out the grain that Bluebell had pushed to the edges. “That’s some cow.” The male voice startled them both and Bluebell stomped his rear hoof. Lena peered over the Hereford’s withers. At first all she saw were the tattoos. An ugly monster head with a gaping mouth and snake tongue seem to snap at her. It was the carny from the High Striker standing at the edge of the stall. “It’s a steer,” she stuttered. “And my sister isn’t here.” “Not your sister I wanted to talk to.” He swayed a bit as he moved into the stall, like when her mother drank too much wine and tried to hide it. Lena ducked under Bluebell’s throat and came up on the other side. She looked around the pavilion, now empty of people. “Suspect they’re all out waiting on the fireworks,” he said. The first boom echoed through the space. Several sheep bleated their disapproval and Bluebell jerked against his halter. “Shhhh, now.” Lena reached her hand down and scratched his chest. “All that racket’s just some stupid fireworks.” “Nothing to worry about,” the man added. He had the same look in his eyes that Papa’s border collie got right before he cut off the escape route of a runaway cow. A bigger boom thundered through the pavilion. Halter clips clanged against the rails as uneasy cattle shuffled in their stalls. Her own legs shook as she sidled toward Bluebell’s rear. He matched her steps. “What’s a little thing like you doing in here all by yourself?” “My father will be back any minute.” Her voice shook. He smiled, baring his teeth. “I’ll be sure to introduce myself when he arrives.” A series of explosions, sharp as gunfire, erupted outside. Somewhere a cow lowed. Several more joined in, their voices pitiful with fear. “You’re upsetting my steer. You need to leave.” “Oh, your cow’s just fine. I think it’s you that’s scared.” He spoke with the same low voice that Lena used with injured animals. The one she used right before she did something she knew would hurt but had to be done. “You’re a pretty little thing,” he crooned. “Nice and quiet.” Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She stood frozen. A warm trickle started down her leg, and the wet spot expanded on her jeans. He edged closer. “I like them quiet.” # Jo ran. The suspect veered off the sidewalk and slid down the hillside toward the creek. She plunged off the side of the embankment, sliding through dirt and duff, closing the distance. She keyed her shoulder mic. “Entering the creek, heading west toward the Animas. I need someone on the River Trail.” Narrow-leaf cottonwood and willows shimmered silver in the moonlight and wove a thicket of branches along the water, herding the suspect toward the cobbled stream bed. Jo splashed into the ankle-deep water. Close enough now to almost touch. Her lungs burned. With a final burst of speed, she lunged. Shoved his shoulder while he was mid-stride. The man sprawled into the creek. Rolled onto his feet with a bellow. A knife in his hand. Without thinking, she’d drawn her gun. “Drop it!” Flashlight beams sliced the foliage. Snapping branches and crashing footsteps marked the other officers’ progress as they neared. Estes shouted Jo’s name. Her eyes never left the man standing just feet away. “Over here!” She focused on the man’s shoulder, watching for the twitch that would telegraph his intentions. “You need to drop the knife. Now.” Her voice rose above the burble of the stream. “Or things are going to get a whole lot worse for you tonight.” She shifted her weight to her front leg and carefully shuffled her rear foot until she found firmer footing and settled into a more stable shooting stance. “Drop the knife.” She aimed center mass. Drew a deep breath, willed her heart to slow. The knife splashed into the creek near the bank. “On your right.” Estes broke through the brush beside her. “Get down on your knees,” Jo ordered. “Hands behind your head.” “It’s my friend’s truck,” the man said. Jo holstered her gun and moved forward while Estes covered her. She gripped his fingers and bowed the suspect backward, keeping him off balance while she searched him for weapons, then cuffed him. “Not according to the owner.” She double-locked the cuffs while Estes radioed dispatch they had one in custody. An explosion above the treetops made Jo flinch. Fireworks slashed the darkness and burst into balls of purple and green and dazzling white that sparkled briefly, then disappeared. *** Excerpt from Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning. Copyright 2021 by M.E. Browning. Reproduced with permission from M.E. Browning. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author M.E. Browning:

.

M.E. Browning

M.E. Browning writes the Colorado Book Award-winning Jo Wyatt Mysteries and the Agatha-nominated and award-winning Mer Cavallo Mysteries (as Micki Browning). Micki also writes short stories and nonfiction. Her work has appeared in dive magazines, anthologies, mystery magazines, and textbooks. An FBI National Academy graduate, Micki worked in municipal law enforcement for more than two decades and retired as a captain before turning to a life of crime… fiction.

.

Catch Up With M.E. Browning: MEBrowning.com Goodreads BookBub Instagram – @mickibrowning Twitter – @MickiBrowning Facebook – @MickiBrowningAuthor

 

 

ENTER TO WIN:

.

a Rafflecopter giveaway  

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Death Rang The Bell by Carol Pouliot Banner

.

Death Rang The Bell

by Carol Pouliot

October 1-31, 2021 Book Tour

.

Death Rang The Bell by Carol Pouliot

.

MY REVIEW

While this is the third book in the series, I had no problems jumping in and following the characters, getting familiar with who they were and how the plot worked.

Olivia works as a journalist and lives in the present. The man she’s attracted to, Steven, is a detective living in the 30’s. How they met and how Olivia and Steven came to travel through time was fun and creative. And I loved their shy, budding romance and hoped they’d figure out how to make it work.

While visiting Steven, Olivia witnesses a crime and is quickly caught up in it, eager to solve it and remove herself as a potential target.

These two characters have a lot to sort out and that kept me turning the pages, hoping for the best. A fast read for me and now I’m wanting to go back and start this exciting series at the beginning.

4 STARS

~~~~~

Synopsis:

21st-century journalist Olivia Watson thinks traveling back in time to 1934 to attend a Halloween party with her friend Detective Steven Blackwell will be a lot of fun. And it is…until she witnesses the head of the Shipley Five-and-Dime empire murdered, and fears the killer saw her face.

The smart move is to return to the safety of the present, but Olivia possesses a secret and is about to defy the unwritten rules of time-travel. She convinces Steven to let her stay in his time and help unravel the motives behind the murder, even if it means risking her own life to save another.

When Steven delves into the investigation, he discovers how a bitter relationship, a chance encounter, and a fateful decision converged to set the stage for murder. In a maze full of unreliable clues and misdirection, dark secrets refuse to stay buried and forgotten ghosts won’t fade away. Steven is reminded that old sins cast long shadows.

Can Steven catch the killer before time runs out for Olivia?

.

Praise for Death Rang the Bell:

“This highly inventive series serves up a real treat–a perfect combination of mystery, time travel, and romance.” ~~ Deborah Crombie, New York Times Bestselling author of the Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James novels

“Pouliot has the period details mastered, adding realism and depth to this wholly satisfying read.” ~~ Marni Graff, author of The Nora Tierney English Mysteries

“With engaging characters, a murder mystery, and a trip back in time, Carol Pouliot’s Death Rang the Bell will keep you turning the pages all night!” ~~ Nancy Allen, New York Times Bestselling Author

“A Halloween setting, a house where time folds back on itself, and a crime with deep roots in the past make Carol Pouliot’s Death Rang the Bell a joy for fans of crisp writing and twisty, character-driven plots.” ~~ Connie Berry, Agatha-nominated author of the Kate Hamilton Mysteries

“A delightfully immersive story, filled with surprising twists and turns, a touch of romance — plus a heroine you will happily follow as she jumps between decades, Death Rang the Bell is a truly great escape.” ~~ Alison Gaylin, USA Today and international bestselling author

“This intriguing and beautifully written series will draw you in and make you feel right at home in a time period you’ll wish you could visit.” ~~ Grace Topping, USA Today bestselling author of the Laura Bishop Mystery Series.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery (Traditional Police Procedural with a Time-Travel Twist)

Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: September 21, 2021 Number of Pages: 311 ISBN: 978-1-68512-000-9 Series: The Blackwell and Watson Time-Travel Mysteries, #3 || Each is a Stand-Alone Mystery

Purchase Links: Amazon | BN.com | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

NOVEMBER 1916 − SYRACUSE, NEW YORK

Chapter 1
Hot coffee spilled over the rim and burned her hand. Lillian wanted to cry. At nine in the morning, she’d been on her feet since six and had seven long hours to go. She didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to keep it up. She was constantly exhausted and the struggle to breathe was worsening; some days it was nearly unbearable. She knew the disease was going to overpower her, and that moment was coming soon. Lillian slid around some tables and set a heaping plate of eggs and bacon, potatoes, and toast in front of Arnie McCormack, then topped off his cup from the pot in her other hand. McCormack lowered his newspaper and leered, pinching her behind as she stepped away. Rude bastard. She’d like to pour the scalding coffee over his head and dump his breakfast right in his lap. The only thing that kept her going every day was the thought of her beautiful little boy. Well, not so little anymore. He was growing up fast, nine years old in January. She managed a smile and wiped away a tear before it became a flood. Best not to think too much about things. Especially money. Lillian knew if she didn’t get the money somehow, she’d never see her son grow into a man. And what about her letter? It had been four weeks since she’d mailed it. Surely he should have written back by now. She hadn’t been unreasonable, hadn’t asked for much, only enough to pay for treatment at the Little Red Cottage in Saranac Lake. Dr. Trudeau’s Little Red Cottage. It sounded like heaven. Lillian had heard wonderful things about people being cured there. Imagine, cured! The thought made her dizzy. Lillian returned to the lunch counter, using the backs of chairs for support. When she arrived at the griddle, she was breathing hard. Tomorrow, she thought, if I don’t get an answer tomorrow, I’ll send another letter.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1934

Chapter 2
The Three Witches of Macbeth were doing a swell job. Annie, Molly, and Lilly led the parade of pirates, sailors, and fairy princesses through Knightsbridge, picking up ghosts, goblins, and a mummy along the way. Crowds of families followed the costumed children down Victoria Avenue to the entrance of The Elks Club, where, from the top of the staircase, The Three Witches hissed, “Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and caldron bubble.” Molly cried out, “Beware, all ye who enter here.” Then she thumped a tall gnarled staff on the stone step, and Annie and Lilly grasped the thick iron rings with both hands and heaved. As the massive oak doors creaked open, the masquerading children flew up the stairs and into the community room, awash with the scents of apples and cinnamon. Carved pumpkins flickered in the semi-darkened room, revealing white cobweb-filled corners and big black spiders and bats hanging so low that adults had to duck. Seeing colorful bags piled on black-draped tables, one little boy jumped up and down, clapping his hands in glee. A girl grabbed her friend’s hand, and they did a little dance, and three teenagers slapped each other on the back. A Halloween treat awaited each of them. Eager to explore, the kids fanned out. “Ooh! I feel like I’m ten again,” said Olivia, shaking the black-and-orange tin noise maker. “Why didn’t we wear costumes?” Steven gave her a look. “What if I had to rush out for an emergency?” he asked. “You could’ve dressed like a cop.” She smirked. “Hi, Steven.” Decked out in an eye patch and pirate gear, Jimmy Bourgogne appeared from behind Olivia, swept off his hat, and gave a courtly bow, bending low to the floor. “Miss Watson.” “Jimmy, you look fantastic,” exclaimed Olivia. “I didn’t recognize you with that mustache and goatee.” “Congratulations, Jimmy. You fellas did a swell job,” Steven said. “Thanks, but the credit really goes to Leon here.” A slender young man with light brown hair joined them. He sported a plaid shirt with a tin sheriff’s badge pinned over his heart, red kerchief around his neck, and holster holding a toy gun attached to a leather belt. “Hi, Leon.” Steven extended his hand. “This is my friend Olivia Watson. Olivia, Leon Quigg is my mailman.” “Nice to meet you, Miss Watson.” Leon said, nodding as he doffed his cowboy hat. “I’m glad to meet you, too. This is a wonderful party.” Jean Bigelow sidled up to Olivia, yelling amidst the racket. “You made it!” “Jean! Isn’t this swell?” Olivia chuckled to herself. Liz and Sophie would crack up hearing her talk like a real 1934 person. After several months, acting like she belonged here had become second nature, but Olivia Watson didn’t belong here. She lived in 2014 and only visited 1934 from time to time. This week Olivia was spending several days in Steven’s time. No passport, no suitcase, no plane ticket required. All it took was a simple step across the threshold of her bedroom door into Steven’s Depression-era house−simple but the key to her recently discovered ability to time travel. “What are you reading tonight?” Olivia asked the librarian. “Edgar Allan Poe. ‘The Cask of Amontillado.’” “That’s the one where the guy gets walled up, isn’t it?” Jean nodded. “I’ve been practicing creepy voices for days.” “Well, you look the part. I love your cape, very 19th-century.” Olivia touched a fold of Jean’s costume. “Ooh, velvet. I wish I’d worn that.” The organizers had packed the evening full of entertainment. Steven and Olivia watched a magician pull pennies out of children’s ears and a rabbit out of his top hat, and wondered how he made the mayor’s watch disappear. The kids bobbed for apples, the water sloshing out of the metal washtub soaking the floor. The younger children played Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey and Drop-the-Handkerchief, while the older ones played charades and told ghost stories. At seven thirty, the kids crowded along the row of tables where members of the Elks handed out treats. Noses in their black-and-orange bags exploring the treasures within, they moved to the far end to select their favorite soda, handing the tall glass bottles of Hires Root Beer, Orange Crush, and Coca-Cola to Jimmy Bou and Leon Quigg, who were armed with metal bottle openers. The evening culminated with story telling. The village librarian led the young children into a side room, spooky picture books in hand. The older ones gathered behind the curtain on the shadow-filled stage where Jean Bigelow waited in flickering candlelight. When they’d settled in a circle on the floor, Olivia among them, the librarian cleared her throat and began. “The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge….” *** Excerpt from Death Rang the Bell by Carol Pouliot. Copyright 2021 by Carol Pouliot. Reproduced with permission from Carol Pouliot. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Carol Pouliot

Carol Pouliot holds a BA in French and Spanish and an MA in French. She has taught French, Spanish, German, and English. She owned and operated a translating agency for 20 years. Her work has been published in Victoria magazine. Carol is the author of The Blackwell and Watson Time-Travel Mysteries, which includes Doorway to Murder (book 1), Threshold of Deceit (book 2), and Death Rang the Bell (book 3). Carol is passionate about the world and other cultures. She has visited 5 continents thus far and always has her passport and suitcase at the ready.

Catch Up With Carol Pouliot: www.CarolPouliot.com SleuthsAndSidekicks.com BookBub – @cpouliot13 Goodreads Instagram – @carolpouliotmysterywriter Facebook – @WriterCarolPouliot

 

 

Don’t Miss Out on This Giveaway:

.

a Rafflecopter giveaway  

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

A Plague Among Us
A Chautauqua Murder Mystery
by Deb Pines
September 1-30, 2021 Tour

.

A Plague Among Us by Deb Pines

Synopsis:
 

When Al Martin, the editor of a satiric newspaper in Chautauqua, N.Y., reportedly dies of COVID-19, the local consensus is: good riddance.

A sister suspects foul play. She wonders why Al was cremated in a hurry.

The police stay out of it.

So it takes reporter and relentless snoop Mimi Goldman to try to find which of Al’s haters— including an estranged wife, three bitter siblings, a secretive caregiver, old enemies and the many targets of Al’s poison-pen sarcasm—might be a ruthless killer.

The novel, No. 8 in a series called “an Agatha Christie for the text-message age,” once again offers page-turning suspense. Wit. And the unforgettable setting of Chautauqua, a quirky, churchy, lakeside, Victorian cottage-filled summer arts community that launched an adult-education movement Teddy Roosevelt called “the most American thing in America.”

Kirkus Reviews calls A Plague Among Us “an intriguing and engaging crime tale” and “enjoyable novel” with “captivating characters.”

 

Genre: Mystery

Published by: KDP Publication Date: July 1, 2021 Number of Pages: 280 ISBN: 979-8525017368 Series: Mimi Goldman Chautauqua Mysteries, Book 8 | Each book can be read as a Stand-Alone Mystery

Purchase Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Enjoy this peek inside:

Chapter Twenty-Nine Mimi and Sylvia were on the road again, heading to the Tissue Donor Center in Jamestown to chase Winston Suarez. The center wasn’t far from the Loves’ funeral home. But this time Google Maps was directing them to take the highway, not back roads. They started out the same way, heading west on 394, passing the same early landmarks: the Institution’s empty parking lots, busy golf course and We Wan Chu Cottages. “So what’s new?” Sylvia asked. “Too much,” Mimi said. “It’s crazy how I keep learning stuff without seeing how any of it means anything.” “Because the medical examiner still hasn’t called?” “Uh-huh.” Sylvia sighed heavily. “Maybe he’s just as difficult as his dad.” Tom Love Sr., in Mimi’s opinion, wasn’t difficult. All he had done was stand up for his son before Sylvia picked a fight with him. But Mimi let it go. “Well, one thing I’ll grant the older one,” Sylvia said. “What?” “He’s above average in the looks department.” Mimi chuckled. “What?” “I thought you’re done with all of that nonsense.” “I am.” Sylvia moved to the left lane to take the ramp onto Route 17/Interstate-86 East and floored it. “Whoa, hey,” Mimi said. “Mario Andretti, slow down.” “Okay, okay,” Sylvia said. “Just had to get us on the highway.” Sylvia slowed down to fit into the slow lane, sticking behind a FedEx truck going a steady 70 miles an hour. Mimi filled Sylvia in on what she had heard from Shannon about Liam and Patrick. Their denials of knowing anything about the pranks. Their claims the decisions to have no autopsy and a quick cremation were just expedient—so Patrick could get home. “So what time does Winston Suarez get off work?” “I’m pretty sure it’s 5.” Mimi had reached Winston once, described why she was calling. He got quiet, then hung up. After that, she called Winston and never reached him—leaving something like five or six messages. They stayed on the highway about ten miles before taking the Jamestown airport exit, then winding around a maze of city streets until signs with a big “H” led them to the UPMC Hospital campus. “Hopefully,” Sylvia said, “we’re more irresistible in person.” The Tissue Donor Center was one of many outbuildings with medical-sounding names surrounding the redbrick main hospital. Some were done in their own architectural style. Most, like the Tissue Donor Center, imitated the low-slung, redbrick design of the hospital, down to having a white number (for their address) and a primary-colored letter on their sides. The letters were explained on campus signs. Building A was the main hospital. Building B, the signs said, was Outpatient Svcs. C was the Sherman Medical Bldg. D was Imaging & Medical Bldg. E was Physical Therapy, Pharmacies. F was the Tissue Donor Cntr. Sylvia zipped past the early letters of the alphabet, slowing at F, the Tissue Donor Cntr. The main door had its name above it, an intercom to the right. Near the curb, another sign said, “No Standing any time. Ambulance Lane.” They didn’t see any ambulances, but Sylvia decided to wait for Mimi anyway in a parking lot across the street. “Break a leg,” Sylvia yelled as Mimi got out. Mimi laughed. If she did break a leg, no question, this was the place to do it. Her limb could be X-rayed at the Imaging Bldg.(D) and then set at Outpatient Svcs. (B). At the door of the Tissue Donor Center, Mimi knocked. “Who is it?” The woman’s voice, through the intercom, was familiar. “My name is Mimi Goldman,” Mimi said. “And—” “Let me guess? You’re looking for Winston?” Mimi laughed. “I guess I’m pretty predictable. Is he here?” “He is. This is Hannah, by the way. We keep speaking on the phone. Why don’t I see if he’ll come out?” Mimi had high hopes. How hard would it be for Winston to take a few steps to walk outside and see her? On the other hand, blowing her off might be easier. When she heard a ping, Mimi examined her phone. Sylvia, after coaching from her grandkids, texted like a teenager.

Wassup?

I asked for WS and someone said they’d get him. Just waiting.

kk

Standing there, Mimi went through her email. Then she switched to her latest word game addiction: Spelling Bee in The New York Times. Players have to make the most words, four letters or longer, from seven given letters, including one letter that had to be used in every word. The words that day had to be made from BLWCHAE, with all using an E. Mimi started with the obvious ones: BLEACH, BLECH, BEACH, EACH, LEACH, LECH. She was moving on to trickier words when the center’s door swung open. Out stepped a tall, handsome, dark-featured young man in a white surgical mask and blue scrubs with the name SUAREZ above his shirt pocket. “I don’t know who you are,” he said. “I don’t know why you keep asking me about this case, but . . . I’m pleading with you to drop it and just go.” Mimi had expected an asshole, too lazy or too self-important to talk. Not a frightened young man. “Can you say why?” she asked. “I have no idea why this case is at all sensitive.” Winston shook his head. “How about off the record? You have my word that I’d never tell anyone you ever spoke to me.” “Sorry,” he said. “I can’t risk losing my job.” *** Excerpt from A Plague Among Us by Deb Pines. Copyright 2021 by Deb Pines. Reproduced with permission from Deb Pines. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Deb Pines:
Deb Pines

Deb Pines, an award-winning headline writer for the New York Post, is the author of seven Mimi Goldman novels and one novelette all set in the Chautauqua Institution in southwestern New York where they are top sellers. A former reporter, Deb is also a lover of puns, show tunes and indoor cycling. She lives in New York City with her husband Dave.

Catch Up With Deb Pines: DebPines.com Goodreads BookBub – @debpines Instagram – @pinesdebbie Twitter – @pinesdeb Facebook – @deborah.pines.9

 

 

ENTER TO WIN:
.

a Rafflecopter giveaway  

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

.

An Untidy Affair

A David Blaise Mystery

by MB Dabney

.

An Untidy Affair: A David Blaise Mystery
Suspense/Mystery
1st in Series
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Per Bastet Publications LLC (June 25, 2021)
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 280 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1942166761
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1942166764
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B097YPJYWN

Struggling Philadelphia private eye David Blaise gets two routine but unrelated cases on the same day in May 1985 – the day city police firebombed the MOVE house, which killed 11 people and destroyed an entire neighborhood. When Blaise starts following a cheating husband and searching for a missing person who may not actually be missing, he also discovers his cases may be related, and that he is being followed. When his tail is murdered, implicating the P-I, Blaise must find the true killer before he is literally buried alive.

About MB Dabney

MB Dabney is an award-winning journalist whose writing has appeared in numerous local and national publications, such as Indianapolis Monthly, NUVO, Ebony magazine, Black Enterprise.com, the Indianapolis Recorder, and the Indianapolis Business Journal. A native of Indianapolis, Michael spent decades as a reporter working at Business Week magazine, United Press International and the Associated Press, the Indianapolis Star, and The Philadelphia Tribune, the nation’s oldest continuously published Black newspaper, where he won awards for editorial writing. He has co-edited two anthologies — Decades of Dirt: Murder, Mystery and Mayhem from the Crossroads of Crime; and MURDER 20/20 — and has published numerous short mystery stories, including Miss Hattie Mae’s Secret (Decades of Dirt) , Callipygian (The Fine Art of Murder), and Killing Santa Claus (Homicide for the Holidays). An Untidy Affair is his first novel.·         The father of two adult daughters, Michael lives in Indianapolis with his wife, Angela.

Author Links – Website (still under construction) mbdabney.com; Facebook    Twitter   Amazon

Purchase Link: Amazon

~~~~~

GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

TOUR PARTICIPANTS

September 1 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

September 1 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

September 2 – Novels Alive – GUEST POST

September 2 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – SPOTLIGHT

September 3 – My Reading Journeys – REVIEW

September 3 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

September 4 – StoreyBook Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

September 4 – Books a Plenty Book Reviews – REVIEW

September 5 – Laura’s Interests – SPOTLIGHT

September 5 – I’m All About Books – SPOTLIGHT

September 6 – Celticlady’s Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

September 6 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog – SPOTLIGHT

September 7 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT

September 8 – Nesie’s Place – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

September 8 – Brooke Blogs – REVIEW

September 9 – I Read What You Write – REVIEW, GUEST POST

September 10 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

 

 

.

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Welcome to my stop on the tour for Silent Pretty Things.

The author is offering a fab giveaway. Don’t forget to enter!

And be sure to click on the banner so you can follow the tour for more chances to win.

Silent Pretty Things

by O.J. Lovaz

Genre: Mystery / Suspense

A small town…a prominent family…a secret. Only two people know the truth, and their silence will have murderous consequences.

 

Anna Goddard has spent a lifetime being the Good Daughter. Polished and primped into sleek, blond perfection, Anna learned from an early age that being a Goddard meant presenting a flawless façade to the world. But all that changes when Anna stumbles upon a private correspondence that leaves her reeling. With the help of Michael Donovan, a shy but charming local historian, Anna embarks on a journey to find the one thing her family has always denied: The Truth.

 

Propelled by her mission to protect those she loves, the young woman experiences a tantalizing taste of freedom. But in the process of unearthing the past, Anna and her family will expose a new threat so dangerous it could ruin them all.

Synopsis

~~~~~ ~~~~~

Enjoy this glimpse inside:

Anna got up and walked slowly first, then faster as she approached the steps. Michael was right behind her. She couldn’t be sure that her dad and Marlene wouldn’t be inside the house. That was another possibility, she thought suddenly, and gestured Michael to avoid making any noises.

 

They stopped and listened intently as they reached the dining room. Nothing. They went a little further. Anna peered up the dark stairs. They stayed motionless for a few seconds. Not a sound. They made it all the way back. The door was open. Anna carefully approached a window while Michael crouched by the open door. An aluminum screen door provided him some concealment from anyone looking in from the outside.

 

Anna couldn’t see a thing out there. It was pitch black. Michael motioned her to come over by his side. Anna tiptoed, crouched, and crawled her way to him. He pointed to a spot in the garden where something was moving. She stuck her face to the screen and peered into the darkness. In a few seconds her eyes adjusted, and she could make out two silhouettes under the very dim light of the quarter moon.

~~~~~

Author O.J. Lovaz

O.J. Lovaz is the author of Silent Pretty Things—the riveting suspense, mystery, and thriller novel that will keep readers turning pages late into the night. His background in Psychology has offered Lovaz a compelling insight into the human psyche, the raw matter for rich character development.

 

O.J. might be found reading Dostoevsky or Stephen King; sipping a White Russian or a latte. He’s a fan of drama, dark comedy, and suspenseful movies. His perfect lazy day includes a Quentin Tarantino movie, a stand-up comedy special, and classic hard rock.

 

His life journey has taken O.J. to New York, Michigan, South Carolina, and Puerto Rico; each holds a special place in his heart. He loves to travel, explore, go on road trips; and tries to be the best possible husband to his awesome wife and father to his brilliant daughter.

 

Facebook / Goodreads / Instagram / Amazon

Buy Links: B&N / Kobo / Amazon

~~~~~

GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

.
.

.

The Librarian’s Treasure

by Katherine H. Brown

Genre: Low Fantasy

.

Libraries, leprechauns, & evil landlords, oh my!
Join Raegan Sheridan as she sets out on a journey with a dashing stranger and an ornery kitten to the home of the mother she never knew, at the behest of her father’s people whom she never met, to save a village she knows nothing about.
The Librarian’s Treasure is a little fantasy, a little mystery, and a lot to love.
.

Goodreads * Amazon

.

.

.

Do you love book related goodies? Bags with your favorite book quotes? Jewelry with a logo or line? Bookish candles?

I do!

Well, I was asked if my book had a candle, what scent would it be. And it made me smile to try and imagine that. It made me want one. And if I could create it (with zero difficulty and as if by magic because goodness knows I wouldn’t actually know where to start), then The Librarian’s Treasure Bookish Candle would be a deep emerald green color with a swirl of gold and bits of pebbles and gold flakes folded in. When lit, the flame would flicker bright yellow and give off a gorgeous and mystical green smoke. And the scent, the scent would be dew on grassy hill mixed with salty air and that glorious smell of a brand new book with a soft, ornate leather cover as its pages opened up beneath your nose.

If someone can make me that candle, you let me know. 😉

.

.

Katherine Brown is a Texas girl with books in her blood. She has been reading as long as she can remember and has been “making books” from the time she was a child. Her first few were of a non-traditional binding – cardboard & wrapping paper stapled with handwritten pages in the middle & a ribbon closure! Her love of books runs deep and she hopes to encourage readers of all ages to explore and use their imagination by helping them fall in love with books just like she did. Katherine is married to a wonderful man, Patrick, and has a spunky, smart, amazing step-daughter Lexi. Lexi is the biggest fan of this author’s first published series, School is Scary, and is constantly asking when the next book will be finished so she can read it too.
When not writing or reading, you can often find Katherine eating chocolate or enjoying time with family.
.

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

.

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

.

.

*Prize #1:*

Book tote, bookmarks, One shamrock charm bracelet, &

an ebook copy of The Lady & the Leprechaun (prequel to The Librarian’s Treasure)

.

*Prize #2:*

Bookmarks and an ebook of The Lady and the Leprechaun

.

*Prize #3:*

$10 Amazon giftcard

-1 winner each!

.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

.

.

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Silence in the Library by Katharine Schellman Banner

Silence in the Library
by Katharine Schellman
July 12 – August 6, 2021 Tour
Synopsis:
Silence in the Library by Katharine Schellman
Regency widow Lily Adler didn’t expect to find a corpse when visiting a family friend. Now it’s up to her to discover the killer in the charming second installment in the Lily Adler mysteries.

Regency widow Lily Adler has finally settled into her new London life when her semi-estranged father arrives unexpectedly, intending to stay with her while he recovers from an illness. Hounded by his disapproval, Lily is drawn into spending time with Lady Wyatt, the new wife of an old family friend. Lily barely knows Lady Wyatt. But she and her husband, Sir Charles, seem as happy as any newly married couple until the morning Lily arrives to find the house in an uproar and Sir Charles dead.

All signs indicate that he tripped and struck his head late at night. But when Bow Street constable Simon Page is called to the scene, he suspects foul play. And it isn’t long before Lily stumbles on evidence that Sir Charles was, indeed, murdered.

Mr. Page was there when Lily caught her first murderer, and he trusts her insight into the world of London’s upper class. With the help of Captain Jack Hartley, they piece together the reasons that Sir Charles’s family might have wanted him dead. But anyone who might have profited from the old man’s death seems to have an alibi… until Lily receives a mysterious summons to speak with one of the Wyatts’ maids, only to find the young woman dead when she arrives.

Mr. Page believes the surviving family members are hiding the key to the death of both Sir Charles and the maid. To uncover the truth, Lily must convince the father who doesn’t trust or respect her to help catch his friend’s killer before anyone else in the Wyatt household dies.

Praise for Silence in the Library:

“Schellman’s gracefully written whodunit is equally a tale of 19th-century female empowerment and societal conventions…More than a clever murder puzzle, this is an immersion in a bygone era.” —Kirkus Reviews

“The fast-paced, engrossing story has a climactic confrontation worthy of Rex Stout or Agatha Christie.” —Library Journal, starred review

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Mystery

Published by: Crooked Lane Books Publication Date: July 13th 2021 Number of Pages: 352 ISBN: 1643857045 (ISBN13: 9781643857046) Series: Lily Adler Mystery #2 | The Lily Adler series are stand alone mysteries but even more fabulous if read in sequence

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:
Given the way she hadn’t hesitated to interfere in the Wyatt family’s affairs, Lily expected Lady Wyatt to politely rescind her invitation to ride the next morning. But she had insisted, saying her arm was sure to be better by morning. So after breakfast, Lily instructed Anna to lay out her riding habit. Though she had forgone her usual routine of breakfasting in her own room and instructed Mrs. Carstairs to lay breakfast in the parlor, Lily hadn’t seen any sign of her father. She didn’t mind. If she couldn’t be cozy while she dined, she was at least happy to be alone. And it gave her the opportunity to go over the week’s menus with her housekeeper and offer several suggestions for managing her father’s requests while he was with them. “And do you know how long might that be, Mrs. Adler?” Mrs. Carstairs asked carefully. “Mr. Branson was unable to say when I spoke to him last night.” Lily pursed her lips. “For as long as he needs, Mrs. Carstairs. Or as long as I can bear his company. My record on that score is fifteen years, however, so let us hope it will not come to that.” The housekeeper wisely didn’t say anything else. Lily’s pleasant solitude lasted until she was making her way back upstairs to change, when she found her path blocked by her father’s belligerent frame. Unwell he might be, but George Pierce was still a solid, imposing man, and Lily had to remind herself to square her shoulders and meet his scowl with a smile as he did his best to tower over her from the step above. “Good morning, Father.” He didn’t return the greeting. “I am going to breakfast,” he announced, eyebrows raised. Lily waited for a moment and then, when no more information was forthcoming, nodded. “I hope you enjoy it. Mrs. Carstairs is an excellent cook.” He sniffed. “And I assume your excessively early rising is an attempt to avoid my company?” “It is past nine o’clock, father,” Lily said. “Hardly excessive. And I have an appointment this morning, so if you will excuse me—” “What is your appointment?” He couldn’t curtail or dictate what she did with her time, Lily reminded herself. Even if having him in her home left her feeling as if her independence were being slowly stripped away once more, in practical terms he had no say in her life anymore. Answering his question was only polite. “An engagement with a friend—” “That sailor again, I assume?” Lily took a deep breath. “Captain Hartley was also invited, but no, the engagement is to ride with Lady Wyatt this morning. Which I assume you would approve of?” Seeing that she had momentarily surprised him into silence, she took the opportunity to push past her father. “You would like her, I think. She is charming and elegant.” “And her husband’s a fool for marrying again,” Mr. Pierce grumbled, but Lily was already heading down the hall and didn’t answer. Jack was coming just before ten to escort her to the Wyatts’ house, and Lily was in a hurry to dress and escape her father once again. Her room was empty when she walked in, but Anna had laid out her riding habit on the bed, pressed and ready, its military-style buttons glinting in the morning light amid folds of emerald-green fabric. Lily stared at it without moving. She had forgotten that her habit wasn’t suitable to wear when she was in mourning. She was still staring when Anna returned, the freshly brushed riding hat in her hands. When she saw Lily’s posture, Anna paused. “You don’t have another, I’m afraid,” she said gently. Lily nodded, unable to speak. One hand reached out to brush the heavy fabric of the habit; the other clenched a fold of the gray dress she wore. She had stopped wearing colors even before Freddy died—in those last months of his illness, she had traded all her pretty dresses for drab gowns more suited to nursing an invalid who would never recover. And even after full mourning was complete, she had lingered in the muted shades of half mourning long past when anyone would have required it of her, even Freddy’s own family. Laying aside the visual reminders of her grief felt too much like leaving behind her marriage. But that had meant more than two years of sorrow. And in the last few months, since she had come to London and taken control of her life once more, something had shifted inside her. “Yes, thank you, Anna,” Lily said quietly, her voice catching a little. She cleared her throat and said, more firmly, “I will wear this one.” *** She managed to leave the house without encountering her father again. When her butler, Carstairs, sent word that Captain Hartley was waiting in the front hall, Lily felt a pang of anxiety. Jack had loved Freddy like a brother. And he had never given any indication that he thought her mourning had gone on long enough. Jack was in the middle of removing his hat, and his hand stilled at the brim as he caught sight of her. Even Carstairs fell still as they watched her come down the stairs, the heavy folds of her green skirts buttoned up on one side to allow her to walk freely and a single dyed- green feather curling over the brim of her hat and flirting with her brown curls. Lily felt exposed as she descended the final few steps, though she was bolstered by the approval that softened Carstairs’s smile. She had never considered herself a shy person, but she could barely meet Jack’s eyes as she crossed the hall to give him her hand. For a moment neither of them spoke, and when she raised her gaze at last, Lily thought she saw the captain blinking something from the corner of his eye. “That was Freddy’s favorite color,” he said at last, his voice catching. Lily nodded. “I know.” Jack’s jaw tightened for a moment as he swallowed. But he smiled. “Well done, Lily,” he said quietly. “Good for you.” *** There was a lightness between them as they made the quick journey to Wimpole Street. As Jack waved down a hack carriage and handed her in, Lily found herself laughing at all of his quips or droll pieces of gossip, even the ones she normally would have chastised him for repeating. And Jack kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Do I look that dreadful?” Lily asked at last as he handed her down from the carriage in front of the Wyatts’ home. “Quite the opposite,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he released her hand. “Did you know, you are actually quite pretty?” “You mean you did not find me pretty before?” “I think I had forgotten to consider it one way or another,” Jack admitted, grinning. “What a shame everyone has left London already; you would cause quite a sensation.” Lily shook her head. “I know full well I am not handsome enough for that.” “Surprise can cause as much of a sensation as admiration,” Jack pointed out. “Captain!” Lily exclaimed in mock indignation. “You were supposed to argue with me!” They continued bantering as they mounted the steps to Sir Charles’s townhouse, only to fall silent and exchange a puzzled glance as they realized that the door was half-open, the sounds of raised voices echoing from within. Lily glanced at Jack, an uneasy sensation beginning to curl in the pit of her stomach. “Should we knock?” He shrugged and did so, rapping firmly on the wood of the door. There was no response, but it swung open a little more. After hesitating a moment, Lily bit her lip and said, “Well, we ought to at least make sure Lady Wyatt knows we’ve come. If it is no longer convenient to ride, she can certainly tell us to leave.” “And you were already happy to interfere yesterday,” Jack pointed out, though she could hear the unease lurking beneath his playful tone. “We might as well do it again.” “Very true.” Lily pushed the door the rest of the way open and strode in, Jack following close behind. The front hall was empty, but they could still hear voices not far away, now low and urgent, and the sound of quiet crying from somewhere just out of sight. The uneasy feeling began to spread through Lily’s chest and arms, and she reached out her hand in blind anxiety. She was relieved to feel Jack take it and press it reassuringly into the crook of his arm. She had just decided that they should leave after all when quick steps echoed down the stairs. A moment later Frank Wyatt came rushing down, checking himself at the bottom as he stared at them in surprise. His face was pale and his eyes red as he gaped at them, his easy manner vanished. “Lily? And Captain . . . I’ve quite forgot your name. You must excuse . . . what are you doing here?” “The door was open, and no one answered our knock,” Lily said, feeling a little ashamed of their hastiness in entering. “I apologize, Frank; we did not mean to intrude, but we had an appointment to ride with Lady Wyatt this morning. Is everyone well?” “Is everyone . . . No. No.” Frank gripped the banister with one hand, his knuckles white. “I am afraid that Lady Wyatt will not be able to ride today. My father . . .” He swallowed. “My father has died.” Lily stared at him, unable to make sense of his words. They had seen Sir Charles just the day before. If he had seemed a little older and weaker than she remembered, he had still been utterly vital and alive. “Died? But . . . how?” “In point of fact,” a new voice said quietly from behind them. “It seems Sir Charles Wyatt has been killed.” *** Excerpt from Silence in the Library by Katharine Schellman. Copyright 2021 by Katharine Schellman. Reproduced with permission from Katharine Schellman. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Katharine Schellman:
Katharine Schellman

Katharine Schellman is a former actor, one-time political consultant, and currently the author of the Lily Adler Mysteries. A graduate of the College of William & Mary, Katharine currently lives and writes in the mountains of Virginia in the company of her family and the many houseplants she keeps accidentally murdering.

Find her online: katharineschellman.com Goodreads BookBub – @KatharineSchellman Instagram – @katharinewrites Twitter – @katharinewrites Facebook – @katharineschellman

 

Don’t Miss Your Chance to Enter the Giveaway!!
.

a Rafflecopter giveaway  

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

The F.I.G. Mysteries

by Barbara Casey

GENRE: Mystery

BLURB:

THE F.I.G. MYSTERIES

 

Dara Roux, abandoned when she was 7 years old by her mother.  Exceptionally gifted in foreign languages. Orphan.

 

Mackenzie Yarborough, no record of her parents or where she was born. Exceptionally gifted in math and problem-solving. Orphan.

 

Jennifer Torres, both parents killed in an automobile accident when she was 16. Exceptionally gifted in music and art.  Orphan.

 

THE CADENCE OF GYPSIES: Book 1

 

Known as the F.I.G.s (Females of Intellectual Genius), three high-spirited 17 year olds with intelligent quotients in the genius range, accompany their teacher and mentor, Carolina Lovel, to Frascati, Italy, a few weeks before they are to graduate from Wood Rose Orphanage and Academy for Young Women.  Carolina’s purpose in planning the trip is to remove her unusually gifted, creative students from the Wood Rose campus located in Raleigh, North Carolina, so they can’t cause any more problems (“expressions of creativity”) for the headmaster, faculty, and other students – which they do with regularity. Carolina also wants to visit the Villa Mondragone where the Voynich Manuscript, the most mysterious document in the world, was first discovered and attempt to find out how it is related to a paper written in the same script she received on her 18th birthday when she was told that she was adopted.

 

THE WISH RIDER: Book 2

 

When Carolina and the F.I.G.s return to Wood Rose, Dara decides that she wants to try to locate her birth mother when she learns that she might be living in New York City. Carolina, Mackenzie, and Jennifer accompany her and their search leads them to a secret dangerous shadow world hidden deep beneath Grand Central, constructed in what Mackinzie identifies as chevroned magic squares—N X N matrixes in which every row, column, and diagonal add up to the same number—and cloaked in the discordant B flat minor key music that only Jennifer can hear.

 

THE CLOCK FLOWER: Book 3

 

The three FIGs—Females of Intellectual Genius—graduate from Wood Rose Orphanage and Academy for Young Women after returning from New York City where Dara learned why her mother abandoned her all those years ago, and they are now attending universities where they can further their special talents. This means they will be separated from each other and from Carolina, their much-loved mentor and teacher who is “one of them,” for the first time in their young lives. They vow to try living apart for one semester, in the so-called real world that doesn’t include the orphanage; but if things don’t work out, they will come up with another plan—a plan where they can be together once again. Dara is invited through Yale University to take part in an exciting archeological project in China. Jennifer, once again visualizing black and white images and the unusual sounds of another cadence that seem to be connected to Mackenzie, is engrossed in creating her next symphony at Juilliard. Mackenzie, because of her genius at problem-solving, is personally chosen by a US Senator to get involved in a mysterious, secret research project involving immortality that is being conducted in a small village in China—not too far from where Dara is involved with the archeological site. Once there, however, she finds herself facing a terrifying death from the blood-dripping teeth of an ancient evil dragon. Her best friends, the FIGs and Carolina, rely on their own unique genius and special talents to save her as she discovers the truth of her birth parents.

 

THE NIGHTJAR’S PROMISE: Book 4

 

Jennifer Torres, one of the three FIGs (Females of Intellectual Genius) who is a genius in both music and art, is the last to leave the closed rehearsal for her upcoming performance over Thanksgiving break at Carnegie Hall when she hears something in the darkened Hall. Recognizing the tilt of the woman’s head and the slight limp of the man as they hurry out an exit door, she realizes it is her parents who were supposedly killed in a terrible car accident when she was 15 years old. Devastated and feeling betrayed, she sends a text to Carolina and the other two FIGs—THURGOOD. It is the code word they all agreed to use if ever one of them got into trouble or something happened that was too difficult to handle. They would all meet back at Carolina’s bungalow at Wood Rose Orphanage and Academy for Young Women to figure it out. As soon as they receive the text, because of their genius, Dara starts thinking of words in ancient Hebrew, German, and Yiddish, while Mackenzie’s visions of unique math formulae keep bringing up the date October 11, 1943. And as Carolina waits for the FIGs to return to Wood Rose, she hears warnings from Lyuba, her gypsy mother, to watch for the nightjar, the ancient name for the whip-poor-will.

In their search for “The Nightjar’s Promise” and the truth surrounding it, Carolina and the FIGs come face to face with evil that threatens to destroy not only their genius, but their very lives.

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

Once the house got quiet and she thought everyone was asleep, Mackenzie sat up, fluffed her pillow behind her back, and pulled the little gold chain that turned on the white, hobnail glass lamp next to her bed.  Then she reached for the small computer that was never far away, which applied logarithms and other difficult mathematical calculations and stored information, and began methodically punching in figures.  Even as unrelated and disconnected everything seemed to be, there was a certain mathematical logic to it.  There always was, for numbers never lied.

 

Five different addresses from five different areas of the city; yet they were an equal distance from the center—the center being Grand Central Terminal.  It was more than just a strange coincidence, as Larry had said.  More than likely he just didn’t want them to worry.  There had to be a logical reason for it.  And what did the number “61” have to do with everything?

 

Mackenzie pulled up another app she had installed on her computer before leaving Wood Rose that gave a lot of the history of Grand Central Terminal and the area that surrounded it. She also wanted to research the five addresses as well and had downloaded documents she had found in public records.  The first address they were going to the next morning was in an older part of the city, she quickly discovered, but the apartment building itself was fairly new.  The original building had been destroyed by fire several years back. She tried to pull up a tenant list to see if she could get any background information on who lived there, now as well as before the building burned, but hit a dead end.

 

The excitement of the past twenty-four hours and her concern for Dara suddenly left her feeling exhausted. She once again pulled the little gold chain; and tiptoeing into Dara’s room, quietly slipped into her friend’s bed and immediately fell asleep. From the screen of the small computer left behind, next to the white, hobnail glass lamp, a faint light illuminated the number “61.”

~~~~~

Author Barbara Casey

Originally from Carrollton, Illinois, author/agent/publisher Barbara Casey attended the University of North Carolina, N.C. State University, and N.C. Wesleyan College where she received a BA degree, summa cum laude, with a double major in English and history.  In 1978 she left her position as Director of Public Relations and Vice President of Development at North Carolina Wesleyan College to write full time and develop her own manuscript evaluation and editorial service.  In 1995 she established the Barbara Casey Agency and since that time has represented authors from the United States, Great Britain, Canada, and Japan. In 2014, she became a partner with Strategic Media Books, an independent nonfiction publisher of true crime, where she oversees acquisitions, day-to-day operations, and book production.

 

Ms. Casey has written over a dozen award-winning books of fiction and nonfiction for both young adults and adults. The awards include the National Association of University Women Literary Award, the Sir Walter Raleigh Literary Award, the Independent Publisher Book Award, the Dana Award for Outstanding Novel, the IP Best Book for Regional Fiction, among others. Two of her nonfiction books have been optioned for major films, one of which is under contract.

 

Her award-winning articles, short stories, and poetry for adults have appeared in both national and international publications including the North Carolina Christian Advocate Magazine, The New East Magazine, the Raleigh (N.C.) News and Observer, the Rocky Mount (N.C.) Sunday Telegram, Dog Fancy, ByLine, The Christian Record, Skirt! Magazine, and True Story.  A thirty-minute television special which Ms. Casey wrote and coordinated was broadcast on WRAL, Channel 5, in Raleigh, North Carolina.  She also received special recognition for her editorial work on the English translations of Albanian children’s stories. Her award-winning science fiction short stories for adults are featured in The Cosmic Unicorn and CrossTime science fiction anthologies.  Ms. Casey’s essays and other works appear in The Chrysalis Reader, the international literary journal of the Swedenborg Foundation, 221 One-Minute Monologues from Literature (Smith and Kraus Publishers), and A Cup of Comfort (Adams Media Corporation).

 

Ms. Casey is a former director of BookFest of the Palm Beaches, Florida, where she served as guest author and panelist.  She has served as judge for the Pathfinder Literary Awards in Palm Beach and Martin Counties, Florida, and was the Florida Regional Advisor for the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators from 1991 through 2003.  In 2018 Ms. Casey received the prestigious Albert Nelson Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award and Top Professional Award for her extensive experience and notable accomplishments in the field of publishing and other areas. She makes her home on the top of a mountain in northwest Georgia with three cats who adopted her, Homer, Reese and Earl Gray – Reese’s best friend.

Website

Amazon Author Page with Buy Links

~~~~~

GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

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.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.