Archive for the ‘thriller’ Category

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 A crumbling bluff, two unsolved homicides, and a woman on the edge.
Haunted by her husband’s untimely death, Kate must navigate
treacherous waters and leave Crest Lake and her tragic past
behind…before it all unravels.

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The Bluff

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by Bonnie Traymore

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Genre: Psychological Thriller

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“Gripping and full of surprises, The
Bluff
is a clever psychological
suspense with layered characters and an atmospheric setting. Traymore
masterfully ratchets up the tension little-by-little until the
shocking,
explosive end.”
Tracey
Devlyn, 
USA Today bestselling
author

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What do you
have to lose, Kate?” Ryan asked me, as we stood on the bluff
looking out on Lake Michigan.

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Turns out, almost everything.

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When I first moved
from Manhattan to this small town six years ago, I worried about many
things. I worried about finding a job. I worried that I’d be bored.
I worried that my relationship with charming photographer Ryan
Breslow was moving too fast. But I never worried about whether the
ground beneath my feet would crumble—both literally and
figuratively.

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My marriage didn’t
go as I’d imagined. A year ago, Ryan met his untimely death in a
car accident that’s still under investigation. Isolated and alone,
all I wanted was to sell my home and leave Crest Lake and its painful
memories behind.

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But with my home
inching ever closer to the edge of the crumbling bluff, the property
has become unmarketable. All of us on the lakefront have lost chunks
of property, and tempers are at a boiling point about what to do
next.

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And now, on the
evening of a contentious vote about how to fix this pressing issue,
my nemesis on the shoreline committee has been murdered. I know how
it looks, but it’s not what it seems. I have to get my plan passed
and cash out.

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Because I have secrets.

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And they won’t stay buried forever.

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**Releases Sep 1st – PreOrder Now! **

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Bonnie Traymore is the award-winning, Amazon best selling author of
page-turner mystery/thrillers that hit close to home. Her books
feature strong but relatable female protagonists. The plots explore
difficult topics such as jealousy, infidelity, murder, and the impact
of psychological disorders, but she also includes bits of romance and
humor to lighten the mood from time to time. She’s an active status
member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of
America.

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 The truth can be deadly.

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Shady Justice

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by Rena Koontz

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Genre: Thriller, Romantic Suspense

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 TV Crime Reporter Rylee Lapiz is determined to discover who murdered
her best friend’s mother. When her confidential informant is also
brutally killed, panic hits her like a tsunami wave. Will she be the
killer’s next target?

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It’s a horrifying fact that the
two homicides are linked, and she knew both victims. What connects
the socialite with the drug addict? Reporting these stories is no
longer merely an assignment, it’s a personal quest to avenge their
deaths. But uncovering the truth is dangerous. Dread drowns her in
denial as she delves deeper into the crimes. She’s terrified that
she might personally know a murderer.

Her dogged
investigation uncovers critical evidence the police overlooked. But
instead of listening, she’s astonished and frustrated when
detectives begin to suspect her. Is there anyone she can
trust?

Buy Shady Justice and follow Rylee Lapiz
as she navigates a treacherous landscape of deceit and betrayal in
search of the facts. Every reveal could be her last. Can she report
the truth before becoming the next victim?

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His stomach growled. Since he’d emptied it in the grass, he craved a cup of coffee. As if reading his mind, the local crime reporter for the TV station he regularly watched stepped into his line of vision, two lidded coffee cups in her hands. She grinned, raised the cups in the air and lured him to the yellow crime scene tape cordoning off the area.

“Good morning, Detective. Black right? I brought one for Parker, too.” Funny, he’d been dealing with her longer than Bentley, but she never called him by his first name. He wondered again about Bentley’s affinity with women.

“Lois Lane, fancy seeing you here.” He reached for the Dunkin’ cup.

Rylee Lapiz grinned. “Heard it on the scanner. Was on my way to City Hall for a budget meeting. Thought I’d swing by and hear you tell me you can’t tell me anything.”

Chaney genuinely laughed, always amused by her optimism. “I can’t tell you anything.”

“I figured. Doesn’t hurt to ask, though. Can you at least tell me if it’s male or female? That would give me enough to tweet for the morning news and might make my editor tell me to stay here. The City’s in financial trouble. There’s nothing new to report there.”

“Since when do you cover politics?” She’d been the crime reporter for more than two years, to his knowledge. Always hustling, even though her news station was rated fourth in the market. In his opinion, her station was the best and most accurate, even when it came to forecasting the weather, which his arthritis did equally as well.

“Covering for the beat guy. He called in sick. I hoped you’d rescue me and give me a story.”

He laughed, admitting to himself that he enjoyed talking with her as much as he did verbally sparring with Bentley. In general, he hated the news media but, as reporters went, Lapiz was fair, totally unimpressed with herself despite having accumulated numerous journalism awards. She’d proven she was interested in only the facts and not sensational headlines, like her competitors. And she’d earned his trust a year ago when details about a murder were communicated to him with her in earshot. He’d instructed her the information was off the record and she’d kept her word and not reported it until he consented. It wouldn’t hurt to toss her a crumb.

“Female.”

“Old or young? White or black.”

He chuckled. “You said only one question.”

“Technically I didn’t but—” Her focus moved behind him and he turned to see Bentley approaching, tapping the side of her face with her forefinger. She reached for the cup Lapiz held out.

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How it all started

If you’re already familiar with me as an author, you’ve heard this story.

I guess I’ve always been a writer. I say that because when my mother died and my sister and I were cleaning out her cedar chest, I found a stack of rubber-banded pages, a few in envelopes, some folded, a couple on five-inch spiral notebook paper.

They were notes I’d written to my mother when I was younger, beginning with the lined paper we used in grade school when we learned to write. Remember those? Two bold lines with a dashed line in between so we knew where the lower-case letters stopped. I was pretty good at staying in the lines.

In high school, when my English teacher asked what I planned to do with my life and scoffed at my answer – “I want to be a teacher – he chided me that every female in the building planned to be a teacher. Didn’t I know I had a talent for writing?

I hadn’t yet discovered the collection of missives my mother kept, some starting with “once upon a time” and my favorite, “Mother, I don’t think you love me anymore.”

So no, I didn’t think I could write. He convinced me to enter an essay contest that I won! It was the first time I ever saw my name in print in a publication. Couple that with the first novel I stole from my sister’s reading shelf, The Flame and The Flower, and I was hooked. I wanted to write a book like that someday.

I made my career as a newspaper reporter, which involved writing every day, most days with a deadline looming. And I won awards so I was good at it.

Always in the back of my mind, though, was that thought that I wanted to write a book like Kathleen Woodiwiss had done.

“One book,” I told my husband. “I just want to see my name on the cover of one book.”

My first book was published in 2012. Shady Justice is number 10. I’m already 18,000 words into book number 11. And again, my peers have honored me with awards and five-star reviews.

I guess I really can write!

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 Rena Koontz is an award-winning author who was a career journalist.
She writes about real events she covered as a news reporter in
Pittsburgh, PA. and Cleveland, OH., weaving them into intriguing love
stories. Her passions are her husband and her dog. Not necessarily in
that order.

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Shushan Portal organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Gloria Pearson-Vasey is awarding a $10 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Shushan Portal

by Gloria Pearson-Vasey

 

 

Genre: Science Fiction / Thriller

Synopsis

After her sister dies, Meara Deleaney invites her bereaved nephew, Jackson, to accompany her on a book tour to Canada’s Atlantic provinces. Fearful of leaving the security of her apartment, Meara bolsters her courage by recalling the imaginary dragons she and her sister slew as children behind the hollyhock hedge.

As they travel in a motorhome from park to park and bookstore to bookstore, Meara and Jackson are unaware of the manipulating forces intent on preventing their return home. They do, however, realize they are being stalked and therefore welcome the company of another touring author, criminology professor Bartholomew Wolfe.

A long-standing professional relationship between the authors builds to romance and a persuasive invitation to seek shelter at the professor’s lodge. However, to reach the lodge, Meara—now accompanied by her nephew, niece and mother—unsuspectingly travels through a portal which exits in a future dimension near a fortress.

From there, the family is escorted under guard through dangerous territory to a lodge where metaphorical dragons lie in wait, and security comes at a price.

Enjoy this peek inside:

Mystified, they grabbed up their bags and followed Gabe (the lodge manager) along the shore toward a solitary balsam fir. At their approach, a baby bird sitting in a sandy hollow at the base of the tree hopped off and disappeared into a clump of wild grasses.

“We’ve reached our end of the portal,” said Gabe. “It’s important we all huddle together in the hollow vacated by the bird so no one gets left behind as we transition from the OD to the FD.”

Feeling rather foolish, his guests exchanged quizzical smiles as they shuffled together into a loose cluster.

“You’re not huddling! Lean into the person beside you!” commanded Gabe.

“Mother needs to sit down soon,” protested Meara.

“Yes, I’m feeling a bit shaky and I can barely breathe,” said Agnes. “Enough of your inane prattle.”

Assuring them they would soon be enjoying comfortable transportation, Gabe asked them to close their eyes and count out loud to ten. They reluctantly complied, and by the count of four, all slipped into an ever-darkening vortex and lost consciousness. When they regained bewildered awareness, they were at the edge of a wooded area overlooking the stark walls of a fortress enclosing a medieval castle.

“The Shushan Citadel,” whispered Gabe, pointing toward the fortress.

“Can we go in?” asked Penny.

Gabe hushed the girl and hastened his charges toward a multi-legged vehicle camouflaged in dull paint splotches. He identified the vehicle as a solar-wind-powered Centipede and assisted them in entering through a door in its transparent dome.

Within moments of seating themselves, the passengers realized the Centipede was moving.

About Author Gloria Pearson-Vasey:

Gloria Pearson-Vasey weaves contemporary issues into her novels, and likes a story – be it literary fiction, historical fantasy or science fiction – to be authentic and end on a note of hope.

A member of The Writers’ Union of Canada, Pearson-Vasey has also penned non-fiction books on autism and pilgrimage.

The author feels blessed for experiencing the joy and chaos of merging child raising with career, camping, travel and pets.

She lives in a picturesque Ontario town, and enjoys reading, music, country drives and time with family and friends.

Author Links: Website / Facebook / Twitter/X / Goodreads

Purchase Links: Amazon / Amazon CA / Indigo / Booktopia / Waterstones / Abe Books

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For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

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Breach: A Terrifying Summer Adventure
by Holly S. Roberts

 


Breach: A Terrifying Summer Adventure
Psychological Thriller
Setting – Off the coast of California
Publisher ‏ : ‎Independently Published (March 22, 2024)
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 202 pages
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8320606989
Digital: Wicked Story Telling (June 20, 2024)
ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CQYXJ3T1

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Craving the vastness of the open sea, Kate and her family set out on a journey of forgiveness and healing aboard Ryan’s Gift, their newly remodeled yacht. After a tragic accident, it’s imperative that Kate returns to the ocean, the place she once called home, in an attempt to restore her spirit.

In the middle of their idyllic voyage, the nightmare begins. With no power or communication, a monster lurks below the surface and the family must find a way to defeat the darkness before it destroys them.

Experience this gripping story of a family’s fight for survival and a terrifying reckoning from the deep.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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“Eighteen months had passed since the accident that left Kate with an incomplete spinal cord injury, taking away the use of her legs. The rehabilitation center staff had believed her fortunate for retaining some sensation below the waist, but Kate had never felt unluckier” .

“Kate examined the water looking for a dorsal fin. Slight waves from the Sea Doo rocked the yacht. She wheeled herself frantically toward the stern, her pulse hammering as the real threat lurked unseen below”​​.

“Kate’s voice was a whisper, her hands tense on the wheels of her chair. ‘Ryan, hold on,’ she breathed as the shark’s massive silhouette darted beneath the yacht toward her daughter”​​.

“With every ounce of her being, Kate focused on the rolling waves. ‘This ends today,’ she declared, determination lining her features as she prepared to defend her family from a terrifying nightmare”​​.

About Holly S. Roberts

Holly S Roberts is the USA TODAY bestselling author of thrillers, mysteries, and romance. Her Detective Eve Bennet crime series is a #1 Amazon bestseller. She’s a retired homicide detective who worked high-profile cases in Arizona. Holly lives high in the mountains with her husband and two spoiled dogs.

Author Links: Website / Facebook / Instagram / TikTok / YouTube / Goodreads

Purchase Links

Amazon/Kindle Unlimited

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The Author is running a Giveaway for a Shark Plushie.

Click HERE to enter.

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TOUR PARTICIPANTS

June 20 – The Mystery of Writing – SPOTLIGHT

June 20 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT

June 20 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT

June 21 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT

June 21 – Novels Alive – REVIEW

June 21 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

June 22 – StoreyBook Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

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June 22 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

June 23 – Ruff Drafts – SPOTLIGHT

June 23 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

June 24 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – REVIEW

June 24 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT

June 25 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – REVIEW

June 25 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT

June 25 – Rosepoint Publishing – REVIEW

June 26 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT

June 26 – Elizabeth McKenna – Author – SPOTLIGHT

June 26 – Boys’ Mom Reads! – SPOTLIGHT

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Elephant Safari by Peter Riva Banner

ELEPHANT SAFARI
by Peter Riva
June 24 – July 19, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A MBUNO & PERO THRILLER

A documentary team hiking through East Africa collides with a gang of deadly poachers, in this gripping adventure by the author of Kidnapped on Safari.

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Years of filming, extreme dangers, and daring rescues have taken their toll on documentary producer Pero Baltazar and his team. To relax and reconnect with the East African wildlife they love, Pero organizes a walking safari for him, his camerawoman Nancy Breiton, and their elite guide Mbuno Waliangulu. Still, Pero has trouble truly disconnecting from work. When the team comes across a herd of elephants making their annual migration north of Lake Rudolf, Pero decides the team will film their journey from Kenya into Ethiopia along the Omo River. What begins as a peaceful trip quickly turns into a chaotic nightmare as the trio crosses paths with a crew of poachers whose ivory sales are financing terrorists. The three are determined to protect the endangered herd from slaughter, and Mbuno enlists the help of local tribesmen. But the corruption of ivory poachers has deep roots that stretch to UN refugee camps, Chinese gangs, and the Iranian elite Islamic Revolutionary Guard. Faced with overwhelming odds, the trio must now rely on Pero’s contacts in the CIA, as well as Mbuno’s skills in the bush, if they hope to ever return from this excursion alive . . .

Praise for Elephant Safari:

“If you’re in the mood for an African thriller series to add to your summer reading pile, Peter Riva has got you covered. Riva’s impressive career has provided him with plenty of inspiration for his novels, which he writes as a form of relaxation.” ~ The Lakeville Journal and The Millerton News “Many readers will enjoy this story for its fast pace, engaging characters, and insights into world politic. I particularly loved the depth of knowledge about the natural history and ecology of the East African landscape. This may be a thriller but it’s also an important book about the killing of elephants for their ivory tusks.” ~ Sharman Apt Russel- John Burroughs Medal winner

ELEPHANT SAFARI Trailer:

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Book Details:

Genre: Action and Adventure Thriller

Published by: Open Road Media Publication Date: January 30, 2024 Number of Pages: 302 ISBN: 9781504085335 (ISBN10: 1504085337) Series: The Mbuno & Pero Thrillers, 4 | Each is a Stand-Alone Novel

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | BookaMillion | Goodreads | Open Road Media

Enjoy this peek inside:
In modern Kenya and most of East Africa, elephant were dying out, Mbuno knew this and lamented. His chest ached for them. Gone were the innumerable small herds of his youth, mostly replaced by farms, settlements, human sprawl, and tourist attractions. What elephant remained had their age-old pathways and migration routes blocked, stopped, fenced, and constantly monitored. White men came and collared them, watched them on scopes, darted them, sampled them, and even shot them when they became a nuisance to farmers with cash. What elephants modern man did not manage in parks were easy prey for poachers. The days of the Liangulu hunter were over. Mbuno knew this, accepted this, and did not mind even half as much as he mourned the passing of the realm of the elephant. All of Africa had once been the realm of the elephant. As the largest beast, immune to the normal prey and hunter battles going on all around, the elephant set the pace of the land, fertilized the forests, cropped the prairies, and paved the migration routes that all the migratory species followed. In times of drought, their superior intelligence showed where water could be found and even taught man to dig in dry riverbeds for a boundary layer of precious liquid. They created mud holes for mud baths to keep the insects at bay, used also by Cape buffalo and rhino. Over the millennia, they brushed aside acacia thorns and baobab saplings with equal ease creating the open plains. And, in time, Africa’s rhythm resounded to the beat of their feet and their migratory timekeeping. Without the elephant ruling the land, the land fell into the discordant rhythm of the upright apes and began to fracture. Mbuno had known the last best years of the elephant’s realm and, sadly, was now witnessing the fall of Africa’s harnessing stability. Without the elephant to freely roam, the balance of nature would be broken, herds would grow to enormous size in protected parks and, outside that protection, devoid of traditional hunters, herds could be led by weak leaders who would fail to protect them from ivory hunters. Mbuno had heard this had happened before. At the end of the slave and ivory trade, in 1911 there were fewer elephants than now and the herds were only brought back from extinction by White Hunters—led by Teddy Roosevelt—using farm and ranch husbandry methods – culling every senile cow and bull. Young, vibrant, herds repopulated the migration routes. But now the elephant and Mbuno’s tribal way of life were both threatened once again. Mbuno looked back to make sure Pero and Nancy were crouched, waiting a few hundred yards away as he instructed. He then inched closer to the worrying herd, prone again, a sharp stone rolling under his hip painfully. He dared not move quickly, the bush above him would vibrate. He stopped any forward movement as he spotted feet, the small grey feet of a baby elephant, a mtoto. One foot had an encircling, red, puss-oozing sore. Behind the mtoto’s feet stood the mother. Mbuno could see the way the weight was shifting on both mother and child that the mother was soothing the young one who would be in pain. Silent pain, the sign of a strong herd leader. Or a very frightened herd, one that is being hunted. The mtoto’s sore had been caused by a wire snare that had probably dropped off. Mbuno had seen this far too often. Now Mbuno felt compelled to do something, not just observe. It was now a matter of honor, duty, and common ancestry, not to mention his responsibility for the safety of his safari charges. Mbuno’s mind made decisions quickly. In the bush, life and death were often just moments apart. Soundlessly, moving no bush or twig, he retreated the way he had come, donned his pants only, and set himself into a running crouch. It was his usual hunter’s pace, swift, determined, and ready for a change in direction. Circling the place where he knew the herd to be, he stayed four hundred yards away at least. Starting downwind and determinedly coming full half circle until he announced his presence to their sensitive noses, he tested their resolve. When he was sure they had smelled him, he knew there was real danger here because there was no charge, no bellowing threat, no foot stomp. The elephants could smell that he was only one man and also that he was a man of the bush. As Mbuno had feared, they clearly had a more dangerous enemy threat nearby, for they did not give themselves away. He continued his crouching circling run, sweating from adrenaline and the jini of the hunt. For he was hunting, but not elephant. When he was three-quarters the way around his circle, he sensed, and then diving behind a fallen log on his stomach, he saw the men just outside the forest’s edge. One was sitting on a pickup truck’s hood and two stood in the flatbed. They wore no uniform. The man sitting was dressed as an Arab with a face scarf and camouflage trousers and bush shirt. He had binoculars but no gun. And two standing tribesmen looked like Pokot, Mbuno thought–northern, violent Maasai cousins. Hunters, not cattlemen. The two tribesmen had black rifles with yellow wood stocks and foregrips. Mbuno knew AK-47s when he saw them. Mbuno had seen these types of poachers before. They snared a baby and, in its squeals, it attracted the herd; close and closer until the slaughter would be efficient, deadly, machine gun rapid. Standing behind a tree trunk on tiptoe, peeking out, Mbuno saw the panga (machete) on the flatbed tailgate, unsheathed, its 12-inch blade glistening, freshly sharpened. The back of the truck held two freshly drawn tusks; the brown blood still not yet black. The herd had been running and not just because of the mtoto. Mbuno did not hesitate, did not reason, did not moralize. In the bush, the law of the land was kill or be killed. These men had killed, wasted the life of elephant, wanted to slaughter the rest, and were dishonorable. He saw them as little more than wanyama—vermin—to be stopped. Without altering his run, he circled behind the pickup and approached them from behind, soundlessly, before the men could even know he was coming. *** Excerpt from Elephant Safari by Peter Riva. Copyright 2024 by Peter Riva. Reproduced with permission from Peter Riva. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Peter Riva:

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Peter Riva

Peter Riva has traveled extensively throughout Africa, Asia, and Europe, spending many months spanning thirty years with legendary guides for East African adventurers. He created the Wild Things television series in 1995 and has worked for more than forty years as a literary agent. Riva writes science fiction and African adventure books, including the Mbuno & Pero thrillers. He lives in Gila, New Mexico.

Catch Up With Peter Riva: www.PeterRiva.com Goodreads BookBub Instagram – @peterriva_author Facebook – @peter.riva

 

 

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Clowders

by Vanessa Morgan

 

Publication date: March 1st 2018
Genres: Adult, Supernatural, Thriller

Clervaux, Luxembourg. This secluded, picturesque town in the middle of Europe is home to more cats than people. For years, tourists have flocked to this place – also known as “cat haven” – to meet the cats and buy cat-related souvenirs.

When Aidan, Jess and their five-year-old daughter, Eleonore, move from America to Clervaux, it seems as if they’ve arrived in paradise. It soon becomes evident, though, that the inhabitants’ adoration of their cats is unhealthy. According to a local legend, each time a cat dies, nine human lives are taken as a punishment. To tourists, these tales are supernatural folklore, created to frighten children on cold winter nights. But for the inhabitants of Clervaux, the danger is horrifyingly real.

Initially, Aidan and Jess regard this as local superstition, but when Jess runs over a cat after a night on the town, people start dying, one by one, and each time it happens, a clowder of cats can be seen roaming the premises.

Are they falling victim to the collective paranoia infecting the entire town? Or is something unspeakably evil waiting for them?

Their move to Europe may just have been the worst decision they ever made.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

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FREE for a limited time only!

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MY REVIEW

They say cats have nine lives. What that means in the lovely isolated town of Clervaux, Luxemburg is they take nine. That’s right. When a cat dies, nine human lives are taken.

When an American family moves to Clervaux, they believe the legend is just that, a legend. But then a cat is killed and not long after someone dies. One down, eight to go.

This started out so hopeful. A scenic little town, friendly inhabitants, and lots of cats. But slowly, the atmosphere darkens. Strange noises are heard. Something prowls in the house at night. Claws click across the floor. Food disappears, Shadows hide a hunched over figure. And the friendly neighbors become not so friendly. Sounds like a good movie, doesn’t it? Thanks to the author’s talent for showing the story, it felt like I was watching it.

It takes a lot to give me the creeps. I’ve read a bunch of horror stories and watched lots of movies. A few scenes in this book are so creeptastic! There’s this scene where something is stalking the next victim. It moves boldly through the crowd of tourists. They think it’s part of something put on to entertain and take pictures of it, even as it attacks. I’d like to think I’d know the difference. I read it over again and still got creeped out.

Soft kitty. Warm kitty. Little ball of fur….. Not!

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“Who is she?” Eleonore asked when Jess drove her to school Friday morning.

“Who’s who?” Jess countered, not sure what her daughter was talking about.

“The girl. The one who’s always watching us.”

“No one’s watching us,” Jess said.

“Yes, there is. All the girls in my baking class say the same.”

Normally, Jess wouldn’t have put much thought into such a remark – children can say weird things sometimes. But now it seemed Eleonore might be right. Jess felt like there was indeed someone watching them, no matter what they were doing.

She felt it everywhere she went. When she took Eleonore to baking class, when she was lying in bed at night, even in the shops. But not all the time.

Some of the time.

More often than not, everything seemed normal, and then all of a sudden, she felt as if someone was checking up on her. Sometimes it was only briefly, like a minute or so, but at other times, she could feel it for several hours.

Sometimes she could feel it on the streets.

But mostly at home.

And never outside Clervaux.

You’re imagining things, she told herself.

In fact, every day since she’d arrived in Europe, it had gotten worse. More and more, she’d get that tingly feeling, and know that someone behind her was watching her. She’d try to ignore it, tried to resist the urge to look over her shoulder, but eventually the hair on the back of her neck would stand up, and the tingling would turn into a chill, and finally, she’d turn around.

And nobody would be there.

Nobody, except for the cats. The sight of cats waddling along the pavement had never seemed eerie to her, but the fact that they were always there, no matter where she was – on the sidewalk, at the main square, in a café, in the forest – made her skin crawl.

Whenever she was running errands in Clervaux, she kept looking into store windows, but it wasn’t the merchandise she was looking at; it was the reflection in the glass.

The reflection of something sinister watching her.

Sometimes she could have sworn she saw something. The reflection of a small, squatting figure. But then she glanced over her shoulder and all she could see once more were the cats of Clervaux staring back at her.

She decided to not let her imagination get to her, to resist the urge to glance over her shoulder every few seconds.

And then her daughter muttered the words, “Who is she? The girl. The one who’s always watching us,” and the paranoia tightened its grip on her once more.

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About Author Vanessa Morgan:

Vanessa Morgan is the editor of the movie reference guides When Animals Attack: The 70 Best Horror Movies with Killer Animals, Strange Blood: 71 Essays on Offbeat and Underrated Vampire Movies, and Evil Seeds: The Ultimate Movie Guide to Villainous Children. She also has had one cat book (Avalon) and four supernatural thrillers (Drowned Sorrow, The Strangers Outside, A Good Man, and Clowders) published. Three of her stories have been turned into movies. She has written for myriad Belgian magazines and newspapers and introduces movie screenings at several European film festivals. She is also a programmer for the Offscreen Film Festival in Belgium. When she’s not working on her latest book, you can find her reading, watching movies, eating out, or photographing felines for her blog Traveling Cats.

Author Links: Website / Facebook / Instagram / Twitter / Pinterest / Amazon

 

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Lost in the wilderness, a desolate barracks becomes a perilous attraction for risk-seekers drawn to the heart of nowhere, as a ruthless gang turns the abandoned settlement into a deadly trap with escalating provocations and brutal violence.

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Urbex Predator

by Jen Boele

Publication Date: February 4, 2024

Pages: 394

Genre: Horror / Thriller

A relic from
the Cold War, the old barracks beckon photographers, influencers, and
adventurers, shrouded in secrets and peril. Nela and Tess dare the eerie
ruins for their photography thesis, while Zander, Yelka, Vivien, and
Damon embark on a simultaneous shoot. Amid the abandoned shadows,
Yelka’s group runs into Steven and his ruthless gang, initially
outsmarting them. Yet, Nela and Tess fall victim to a nightfall ambush,
escaping but torn apart. As adrenaline courses through the gang, they
stalk Yelka and her friends, unleashing a relentless manhunt. Vivien
becomes their captive, setting off a chain reaction. Tess encounters
Damon and Yelka, while Nela, guided by Ben, the barracks’ security
manager, races to find Tess. Yelka strives to rescue Vivien, trapped in
an abandoned outdoor pool. On his lone pursuit, Zander witnesses the
gang’s brutality, delving into a darker realm within himself, spurred by
the horrifying thrill of Steven’s actions. The scene propels Yelka,
Damon, and Tess into a frenzy, unleashing chaos to liberate Vivien. Nela
and Ben, attempting to overpower the gang, witness Yelka and Vivien’s
escape as the gang closes in. With the arrival of Steven’s older
brother, Henry, the stakes are set; the old military hospital transforms
into a battleground. No one is to leave alive, and a matter of life and
death ensues. In the ruthless clash, Nela and Yelka emerge as the lone
defenders, while Zander pursues a mission for his own catharsis. In
Henry’s basement, dubbed his Hades, the teams converge for a
pulse-pounding final duel, where survival is the ultimate prize. 

You can pick up your copy at Amazon.

 

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AUTHOR GUEST POST
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Can you tell us what your book, Urbex Predator, is about? 

Absolutely! ‘Urbex Predator’ is a heart-pounding thriller that takes readers on a gripping journey into the depths of horror and suspense. Set against the eerie backdrop of abandoned Cold War-era barracks, the story follows two groups of urban explorers whose innocent photo shoots quickly turn into a fight for
survival. As they navigate through the desolate ruins, they encounter a gang of depraved hoodlums whose menacing presence escalates into brutal violence. What unfolds is a relentless battle, where the boundaries between life and death blur, and the characters are forced to confront their deepest fears.

 

It’s a pulse-pounding narrative filled with unexpected twists, sinister secrets, and unforgettable characters. Get ready for an adrenaline-fueled ride that will leave you on the edge of your seat until the very last page!

Can you tell us a little about your main and supporting characters?

Absolutely, that’s a fantastic inquiry, delving into a crucial aspect of the book. The issue of character count has been raised by some readers, prompting me to create a comprehensive character cheat sheet available for download on my website. However, I respectfully disagree with the notion of an excessive character count. In a horror novel with a high body count, each character serves a purpose, contributing to the intricate tapestry of the narrative.

Let’s zero in on the key players: Nela and Tess, inseparable friends embarking on a journey to document the abandoned barracks for Nela’s photography thesis. While Nela exudes focus and determination, Tess dreams of a glamorous modeling career, their dynamic akin to yin and yang, revolving around their differing perspectives on photography’s significance.

Enter Yelka and Zander, childhood companions drawn to urban exploration for the sheer thrill of discovery. Yelka radiates warmth and curiosity, relishing in the exploration of abandoned sites, while Zander harbors unspoken affections for Yelka, channeling his expertise in urban exploration to fuel her passion. Accompanying them are Vivien, Yelka’s sister, an emerging social media influencer, and her manager Damon, solely focused on bolstering Vivien’s online presence.

When faced with the menacing gang of hoodlums, our protagonists find themselves navigating a perilous struggle for survival, prompting reflection on who will survive and, as a famous quote suggests, what will be left of them. Prepare for a riveting exploration of friendship, survival, and the shadows that lurk within the abandoned corridors of the human psyche.

Your book is set in abandoned Cold War-era barracks. Can you tell us why you chose this location in particular?

“Urbex Predator” is fundamentally grounded in the realm of urban exploration, making the selection of an abandoned locale as the primary setting a natural choice. I envisioned an isolated, secluded world nestled amidst the wilderness, drawing inspiration from my personal experiences in urban exploration. Old military compounds emerged as the quintessential backdrop, offering vast expanses far removed from urban hubs.

These compounds, apart from the barracks themselves, encompass a myriad of structures including housing, medical facilities, sports arenas, and even entertainment outlets like cinemas and theaters. Exploring these vast expanses is akin to stepping into a time capsule reclaimed by nature, evoking sensations reminiscent of an apocalyptic film set, albeit grounded in reality.

The compound depicted in “Urbex Predator” is entirely fictional, crafted as an amalgamation of various abandoned barracks I’ve encountered. Adhering to a cardinal rule of urban exploration, disclosing the exact location of these sites to the public is strictly forbidden. While real-world locations akin to those in the book exist, their anonymity must be preserved to uphold the integrity of the urbexing community.

And let’s not forget a cardinal rule of horror storytelling: transgression invites peril. In “Urbex Predator,” as in any horror narrative, defiance of established norms invariably leads to dire consequences. It’s a chilling reminder that in the realm of horror, breaking the rules comes at a grave cost.

How long did it take you to write your book?

Absolutely, each book I embark on brings its own unique journey, and “Urbex Predator” was no exception. The genesis of this tale began with a burst of inspiration in October/early November, with the first threads of the narrative taking shape by the dawn of the new year, 2022. It was a swift process, as I delved into the story’s intricacies, spending the following four months weaving together its tapestry.

However, the trajectory of my writing journey encountered an unexpected pause in late February, prompted by the onset of the conflict in Ukraine. The chilling realities of the abandoned Cold War-era barracks mirrored the unfolding horrors of the real world, causing a momentary hesitation in my creative process. Yet, I resolved not to succumb to the shadow cast by Russian aggression, both in Ukraine and across the global consciousness, and persevered in bringing this tale to fruition.

By autumn of 2022, the manuscript stood complete, poised for the scrutiny of test readers whose invaluable feedback shaped its final form. Following a series of reviews and revisions, “Urbex Predator” made its debut in Germany by the year’s end, marking the culmination of one phase of its journey. The subsequent translation into English unfolded across the expanse of 2023, a testament to the meticulous care invested in ensuring its accessibility to a broader audience.

In hindsight, while the act of writing itself spanned a mere four months, the entirety of the creative process encompassed a year-long odyssey. Each moment, each pause, and each revision bore witness to the evolution of “Urbex Predator” from a mere concept to a tangible reality, poised to enthrall and captivate readers across borders.

What has been the most pivotal point of your writing life?

Let me take you back to a pivotal moment in my writing journey—one that forever altered the course of my storytelling. It all began with my debut book, “Sunshine,” a crime thriller sparked by the adrenaline of TV’s “Breaking Bad.” Excitedly, I handed it over to friends for their honest feedback, expecting accolades and applause. Instead, I received a bewildering response: “Jens, that’s a nice short story.”

Confusion swept over me. How could my magnum opus be dismissed as a mere short story? As we delved into the narrative together, their insights unveiled a critical truth: storytelling isn’t just about pace; it’s about depth and development. “Why does the drug dealer suddenly turn into a psychopath?” they queried, prompting a deeper reflection on character motivation and narrative arcs.

In that moment, I realized the power of structure and attention to detail in crafting compelling tales. Our drug dealer wasn’t just a villain; he was a complex soul wrestling with his demons. His struggles with substance abuse, compounded by toxic relationships, laid bare the fragility of his existence. Beneath the facade of bravado lay a man clinging desperately to his last shred of identity—the business he built from the ground up.

As we journeyed alongside Mr. White Junior, witnessing his rise amidst the unwavering support of friends, we simultaneously mourned the tragic descent of our flawed antihero—the bad boy drug dealer. It’s moments like these—moments of introspection and revelation—that shape the very essence of storytelling, inviting readers to immerse themselves in worlds both familiar and fantastical, where every character, every twist, holds a piece of our collective humanity.

What kind of advice would you give up and coming authors?

Ah, now that’s a question that cuts to the heart of the matter—the business of writing. It’s not just about crafting compelling plots or spinning tales; it’s about mastering the art of selling your story to the world. Picture this: You’re a brilliant wordsmith, armed with plots that could rival Shakespeare, but without the know-how to market your masterpiece, you’re a ship lost at sea.

Welcome to the world of modern publishing, where authors are not only writers but also savvy marketers. Gone are the days of relying solely on publishers; today, you’re the CEO of your literary empire. You’ll find yourself donning multiple hats—graphic designer, editor, SEO analyst, social media guru—the list goes on. It’s a daunting prospect, I won’t sugarcoat it. But here’s the reality: Either invest your time or your money, because there’s no shortcut to success.

Lesson number two? Brace yourself for the rollercoaster ride of defining success and weathering disappointments. Even with meticulous planning and stellar execution, there’s no guarantee of overnight fame and fortune. But amidst the uncertainty lies the beauty of the journey. It’s a test of resilience, a testament to your unwavering commitment to the craft.

So, gear up, my fellow wordsmiths. Arm yourself with discipline and determination, for the road ahead is anything but smooth. But remember this: Amidst the challenges lie moments of unexpected triumphs—cherish them, for they are the fuel that powers your writer’s soul.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

We better find a way out quickly. The editorial’s deadline is getting close, we can’t afford any further delay.

Damon’s words lay upon the group like a heavy burden. He was good at making his personal problems everybody’s business. When he felt spoiled, he meant business. And Damon wasn’t done yet.

“Moreover, we have no Wi-Fi here. Zero, nada, not a bit.”

He let the words sink in, then added, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t post anything out here.” He put his phone away and joined Zander.

“Here’s how it’s going down: While the girls are taking photos, you’re looking for an exit that will get us out of here A–S–A–P. Get it?”

“We’ll take the pictures, don’t worry about it” Yelka hooked in from behind. “And tonight, from our hotel, we’ll be able to watch your follower numbers skyrocket in no time.”

“I assume so,” Damon replied curtly. “The sore point in the planning is the way back. But Zander will take care of that. And I know for sure he’ll find a really fast way out for us.” Appreciatively, he patted his shoulders.

“Damon, when do you think we will break the 30,000 mark? I really want that to happen by this weekend.”

“Yes, starlet, we can definitely do that. Your pretty sister will do a fantastic job and Zander will get us back to the hotel in no time.”

Zander wasn’t concerned about Damon’s problems at all. If it were up to him, Vivian should just do blunt erotic shots on the beach or in a studio. Or better, shoot soft porn. That was what it was all about, after all. Maybe he would watch that too. Vivian naked in the sand. Hmm … Anyway, none of this had anything to do with the fascination of abandoned places. And this barracks had so much of it to offer.

“If we continue along this path through the forest, we will soon reach the residential block. From there, another path leads to the recreational facilities. There is a pool, a sports field and a theater, but it could also be used as a cinema. In parallel …”

“Sis, shouldn’t we take a picture of me in this outdoor pool?” Lasciviously, Vivian played with the strap of her top.

“Absolutely” laughed Yelka.

Why wasn’t she actually on his side? After all, he had planned the whole trip just for Yelka. Zander wanted everything to be perfect today. Yet, that wouldn’t work with Vivian and Damon. Honestly speaking, they shouldn’t have joined in the first place. When the forest suddenly opened up to reveal a settlement, Zander’s heart began to pound faster.

Weathered multi-story apartment blocks rose into the sky, overgrown with birch and fir trees. Moss clung to the entrance areas; ivy sought its way upwards. The scenery looked like a modern Sleeping Beauty castle, sprung from the premonition of a sinister dystopia.

For a moment, the group stopped and let themselves be captivated by the magic of the place. Speechless, their eyes wandered up the multi-story buildings, lingering on the dark building openings and absorbing the surreal atmosphere.

“This is incredible,” Yelka was the first to return to her words. She put an arm around Zander and hugged him. “Just incredible.”

Zander felt overwhelmed. His excitement was looking for a channel. “Considering that the residents lived here for 40 years, and nature has taken over for 30 years, then … well …” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Zander was overwhelmed, both by the place and by Yelka’s closeness.

“Darling sister, you can start thinking about whether you want to be photographed on the steps or the old climbing frame” Yelka indicated as she dug her camera out of the small backpack.

“The steps are great!” exclaimed Vivian, settling down on the moss-covered steps.

“Perfect,” Damon joined in again as well. “That looks excellent, starlet! Lie back, let your hair fall to the right.”

Zander walked thoughtlessly over the moss that covered the former street. Here, families must have once walked home, children played on the sidewalk, and vehicles drove north to the barracks. With a kick, he plucked the green from the ground and looked at the dark asphalt. This was how the place had been left nearly three decades ago.

He squatted down and let his fingers slide over the old pavement. A shiver came over him. At that moment, he felt the same fascination for these places as Yelka. Stealthily, he glanced over at his secret love as she took photos of her hot sister.

Vivian had leaned back dramatically, her chest up, her hair hanging down behind her. Her belly was exposed, her breasts pressed against the top. She stretched her long legs, like she was riding a bicycle.

Zander’s gaze drifted off to Yelka, who held her camera with both hands. She was shifting positions from time to time. Although she was wearing cargo pants, boots and gloves, she didn’t look one bit less sexy than her younger sibling.

He averted his eyes and let them roam over the facade of the apartment block again, only to look back over at the sisters.

“So, now …” Damon was about to intervene in the shooting when heavy dog barking made their blood run cold.

Yelka stopped her shots, Vivian lost body tension and Damon turned his head.

The big, short-haired yapper hung on the leash of a young guy in his early 20s. His tattooed arms were pumped up, stretching a red shirt. His chest jutted out as he stood wide-legged, holding the dog. A sharply cut face framed his full lips. He wore a gold necklace, his hair was shaved short. Behind him, four boys and a girl had set up. Two of them held metal pipes in their hands, brandishing them menacingly.

“Good day to you all!” The words didn’t sound like a greeting, but more like a threat. “This is private property. No trespassing!” As if to underline his words, the dog growled insistently. The group slowly approached. Those two men carrying the batons grinned menacingly. “The whole compound is surrounded by a concrete wall.”

Yelka was the first to speak up, “Hey, we’re just taking pictures, we’re not destroying or stealing anything.”

“So what?” told Ryder Yelka. “Fuck it, you guys are still illegal. There are signs on the outside walls and gates that state that this place is off limits.”

“Yeah, but you’re still coming here,” the dark-haired boy with the scratched forearm shouted.

“Even though it’s forbidden.”

The group had surrounded the four, leaving no way out. Gazoo barked at Vivian, tugging at Ryder’s leash.

“What you are doing here is forbidden, you know that.”

“Okay, we made a mistake,” Yelka tried to concede. “How about we pack up and get out of here?” Seeking help, she looked over at Zander, but he was transfixed.

“Yeah, you just thought so.” A grim smile played around Ryder’s face. “I want to see everyone’s IDs!”

“IDs out!” repeated Jesse, roaring.

Yelka looked at Zander first, then at Damon. “Please, let us just go our merry way and everything will be cool,” she offered the boys.

Damon had regained his composure and was surveying the situation. Yelka and Zander getting married would be more likely than these guys being security guards. There was danger in the air. They were in the middle of nowhere and were being threatened by a gang of rednecks, carrying a loose dog.

Dave lifted the steel pipe and touched Yelka’s chin. “Ain’t nothing cool here,” Ryder told them. “Either you show us your IDs or else.”

As if to make an example, Dave hit the ground with his club.

Yelka flinched. Gazoo jumped up at her, held back only by Ryder’s leash. “Chop, chop, IDs out!”  Ryder roared indignantly.

“I think we need to make a cut here!” With a brisk step, Damon put himself between Yelka and Ryder. “To me, it seems like a misunderstanding.”

For a moment, there was silence. Gazoo stopped barking, Dave’s steel pipe hovered in the air, and Ryder waited to see what Damon would say.

“My name is Duke. Damon Duke, of Duke Executives.” He spread his arms and stood between Ryder and Yelka.

“We rented this location today to hold a photo shoot.”

He pointed to Vivian, who was still sitting on the steps. “This is Vivian Donahue, one of our most important models, known as Violet-D.”

Damon waited a moment, watching the gang as they stared over at Vivian. He could see the aggression draining from the young men’s faces. Desire appeared in their eyes.

“We are taking pictures for the centerfold today. Vivian’s work needs a relaxed atmosphere. So, I’d be grateful if we could do the shoot without any further disruptions. Later, I’m sure she’ll have time for a short meet and greet with autographs. If you have any further questions, please contact Councilor Wilbanks. Please carry on, we don’t have any time to lose. Hush, hush!”

A stunned silence hung over the scene. The gang hadn’t quite taken their eyes off Vivian when it dawned on them that they had just been set up. Yelka and Vivian were already preparing to resume the photo shoot when Ryder suddenly straightened up again. “Are you kidding me? I want to see your fucking IDs–no photos until I say so!”

“Good,” Damon turned abruptly and held out his ID to Ryder, “that’s me, Damon Duke.” He gave him a moment to compare ID photo and face, then pulled out his cell phone. “And now I’d like to know what company you’re with.”

Damon held the phone to his ear and waited for Ryder’s answer. But he remained silent.

“Mr. Wilbanks, this is Damon Duke speaking. I apologize for the interruption. Contrary to our agreements, we were evicted from the place by security.” His and Ryder’s eyes met. “They didn’t hire any security at all? Then I assume this is a misunderstanding.”

Dave looked at Ryder, waiting for any reaction. But he just stared at Damon indecisively.

“No, I don’t think we need police here. Thank you very much, and again, I’m sorry to bother you.”

Damon dropped the phone into his purse, then pulled out a slew of business cards. “Here you go.”

First, he handed Ryder his card, then to the rest of the gang. “We’re still looking for security employees. If any of you want to make money, you’re more than welcome to contact me.”

Dazzled, the gang looked at each other. “Have a nice day! Now, starlets, we’ll move on to the next location.”

Ryder looked grimly after the Urbexers as they walked on. Soon they would find out what kind of a nice day they were going to have.

 

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About the Author

 

 

Jens Boele, a veteran media designer in
the entertainment industry, brings over two decades of cinematic
expertise to his writing. Born in Germany in 1975, Jens embarked on his
writing odyssey in his youth, culminating in the publication of his
debut book, “Sunshine,” in 2015. This was followed by “Hurensohn,” and
his latest spine-tingling creation, “Urbex Predator.” Jens is a
genre-bending author, specializing in horror and crime thrillers. His
narratives often blur genre lines, weaving intricate tales that plunge
readers into the darkest corners of the human psyche. Jens’s
storytelling brilliance lies in his fascination with the criminal mind;
his villains are always profoundly human, offering readers a chilling
examination of the psychological aspects of the criminally insane. Jens
sets himself apart by seamlessly integrating classic horror with the
gritty authenticity of the present day. This innovative fusion imbues
his narratives with a dynamic quality, seamlessly blending archaic
thrills with contemporary intrigue, resulting in an immersive reading
experience that resonates with both vintage enthusiasts and present-day
readers alike. Jens Boele’s latest endeavor takes his work across
borders, as “Urbex Predator” becomes his first book to be translated
into English. A globetrotter with deep connections to the United States,
Jens’s passion for exploration and his international perspective,
nurtured by family and friends in the US, shine through in his writing,
offering readers a captivating blend of horror and cultural diversity.
Visit Jens’ website at https://jensboele.com/.

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Sponsored By:

 

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It appears you can go home again,
but sometimes, you shouldn’t.

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Come Home to Death

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by Marilyn Levinson

Genre: Suspense, Thriller

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“A master of the mystery and
suspense genre.”
—Midwest Book Review

Erica
Parker has barely been a bride nine months when two thugs show up at
her apartment while her husband is away on one of his infamous
business trips, claiming he owes their boss a large gambling debt.
Frightened for her life, and without any other options, she heads for
her childhood Long Island home she escaped three years ago. And swore
never to return.

The aunts who raised her are as
interfering and controlling as ever, but soon as the family attorney
advances the rest of her trust from her parents’ life insurance,
she can return to normalcy. Except he refuses, instead spouting
nonsense about how, if she waits, she will soon inherit millions. On
her twenty-fifth birthday.
Problem is, someone doesn’t want
her to live that long.

Her aunts are harboring secrets,
people are turning up dead, her husband is nowhere to be found, and
someone’s trying to kill her. It appears you can go home again, but
sometimes, you shouldn’t.

*Fans of Janet
Evanovich, Lisa Gardner, and Mary Russell will enjoy “Come Home
To Death” by Marilyn Levinson

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Amazon
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* Smashwords
* Books2Read * Bookbub
* Goodreads

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A former Spanish teacher, Marilyn
Levinson writes mysteries, romantic suspense, and novels for young
readers. Her Golden Age of Mystery Book Club series was a King Rivers
Life Magazine’s “Best of 2014,” and on Book Town’s 2014
Summer Mystery Reading List. She’s an Agatha nominee, a Library
Journal “Pick of the Month,” on Goodreads’s list of the 200
“Most Popular Books Published in 2017,” a Suspense Magazine
Best Indie, and was on Book Town’s Summer (and) Fall Reading Lists.
She also writes under Allison Brook.  She is co-founder and past
president of the Long Island chapter of Sisters in Crime. She resides
in New York with her family. www.marilynlevinson.com

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Website
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Follow the blitz HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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KNIFE RIVER by Baron R Birtcher Banner

KNIFE RIVER
by Baron R Birtcher
April 15 – May 10, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A sheriff fighting to keep the peace in 1970s Oregon faces a shocking secret from his town’s past, in this crime thriller from the author of Reckoning.

There are rules in the West no matter what era you were born in, and it’s up to lawman Ty Dawson to make sure they’re followed in the valley he calls home. The people living on this unforgiving land keep to themselves and are wary of the modern world’s encroachment into their quiet lives. So it’s not without some suspicion that Dawson confronts a newcomer to the region: a record producer who has built a music studio in an isolated compound. His latest project is a collaboration with a famous young rock star named Ian Swann, recording and filming his sessions for a movie. An amphitheater for a live show is being built on the land, giving Dawson flashbacks to the violent Altamont concert. Not on his watch. But even beefed up security can’t stop a disaster that’s been over a decade in the making. All it takes is one horrific case bleeding its way into the present to prove that the good ol’ days spawned a brand of evil no one wants to revisit . . .

 

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Thriller

Published by: Open Road Media Publication Date: April 23, 2024 Number of Pages: 338 ISBN: 9781504086523 (ISBN10: 150408652X) Series: The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series

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

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MY REVIEW

Praise for Knife River mentions the television series, Longmire. I loved that show and Sheriff Ty Dawson is every bit as pragmatic and tough as Sheriff Longmire.

The story begins with a prelude hinting at something that happened in 1964 in Meriwether County, Oregon. Twelve years later, in 1976, the ghosts of the past come back to haunt those that survived it.

I love western settings. My father and I would stay up late watching them on the television and my brother shared his Zane Grey books with me. I had my fingers and toes crossed that this book would have a hard to solve mystery, but also some rough and tumble cowboys. Those tall drinks of water with their sweat stained cowboy hats and dusty boots. Boy did I get all of that, and more. A particular quote from the book spoke volumes.

“I believe you told me you were born seeing the world between a horse’s ears.” I said. “Wouldn’t be right for me to keep a man from his birthplace.”

I’m kind of a character driven story kind of gal also. I need to be able to put a face to them. To connect with them. Whether in a good or bad way. Author Baron Birtcher really did use his storytelling skills to breathe life into his characters. It was so easy to put faces to names. I imagined how they moved. Their stride. Whether they stood still or waved their arms for emphasis when they talked.

The author also painted pretty pictures with his descriptions of Meriwether and the Diamond D ranch.  One quote in particular put me there.

“Smells like horse sweat and juniper out here,” she said. “Smells like home.”

I knew from the moment I read the first page that this would be one of those books that couldn’t be put aside for later. I started it before I went to work. Came home for lunch and read until I was late returning. And came home and stayed up to finish it. There are not that many books that grab me like this one did. Knife River now sits in a place of honor on my book shelf. The shelf where I keep those books that I loved so much I wanted them where I could easily find them. Some books are meant to be read more than once. This is one of them.

5 STARS

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Read an excerpt:
Prelude:
FACING WEST
SOME SAY THAT to be born into a thing is to be blind to half of it. Oftentimes, the things we seek and discover for ourselves are those we hold most dear. Any cattleman will tell you that a ranch is a living thing. Not only the livestock that graze the meadowland, but the blood that nourishes the hungry soil, the trees that inhale the wind, and the rain that carves runnels into the hardpan that, in time, grow into rivers. The Diamond D is no different in that respect, some would even say it was the beating heart of Meriwether County, Oregon. As both a stockman and the sheriff of this county, I believe this to be true. But the events that unfolded in the autumn of 1964 cast a cloud across that land. Not just across my ranch, but the entire valley, though they didn’t bear their terrible fruit until nearly a dozen years later, in the spring of 1976. The incidents still haunt me, though others paid a steeper price than I; some with their lives, or the lives of their loved ones, while some forfeit their sanity, and still others with their souls. That is where this story begins.  

CHAPTER ONE

LAMBS AND LIONS hold no sway over the springtime here in Meriwether County. Some years it will snow through mid-May, other times the golden sun rides high and bright, and the river flows fast, clear and deep with high-country melt on the first day of March. Most years, it’s both, with Mother Nature keeping her whims to herself until she alone decides to turn them loose upon us. But this particular Saturday morning was unusually quiet, not even a breath of breeze stirring the leaves of the cottonwoods that grew thick and untamed along the creekbank. I was standing outside on the gallery, sipping my coffee as I leaned on the porch rail, watching my wife, Jesse, hammer the last nail into a birdbox she had made. She must have felt my eyes on her, as she looked up from her work and smiled. A few moments later, she stepped up the stairs to where I stood and kissed me on the cheek, smelling of sawdust and lemongrass tea. “The bluebirds are back,” she said. “I just saw them.” “You haven’t lost your knack for building those things.” “Plenty of practice. You got home late last night.” I had spent the previous day transporting a man all the way from Lewiston up to the Portland lockup to await his trial. He stood accused of murdering his own wife and young child. It had been a long, depressing day, and by the time I completed the intake paperwork, locked up the substation in Meridian, and finally drove home to the ranch, Jesse was already asleep. But this morning, everything in her expression seemed overflowing with hope and expectation. Springtime was her season and always had been. “Want a hand putting that thing up?” I asked. She replied by handing it to me, together with the hammer. She watched me hang the birdbox on a post beside the vegetable garden, outside the kitchen window where I knew she’d spend her quiet mornings secretly observing the bluebirds as they built their nest and reared their brood. “You plan on helping Caleb pick the new cowboys today?” She asked me when I came back inside. It was the time of year when we hired a few temporary hands for Spring Works, when we’d round-up the cattle and calves from every corner of the ranch; we’d vet, brand and sort the livestock, and mend a perpetual string of breaks in the wire along miles of fenceline before we turned the herd out to the pastures for summer grazing. The Diamond D employed three permanent cowboys in addition to me and old Caleb Wheeler—our foreman for more than three decades—but with 63,000 deeded acres and another 14,000 under a Land Management lease, Spring Works was more work than the five of us could handle in the short span of time required to get it done. Every year a couple dozen hopeful itinerant riders, ropers, rodeo bums and saddle-tramps would answer the call for a temporary employment opportunity, and every year Caleb Wheeler got more riled up about what he viewed as the eroding quality of the contemporary American cowboy. He’d cuss and grump and holler about it, but he’d end up settling on three or four hands he reckoned could help us get the job done with a minimum of aggravation. “I’m staying out of it this year,” I said, and Jesse grinned. “Figured I’d lay in a cord or two for the woodshed instead, before the weather gets too hot.” “I saw some deadfall down by Corcoran’s,” she said. “That’s where I was headed.” “Make you some lunch to take with you?” “I don’t intend to be out that long.” “Good to hear,” she said, and winked at me before she turned, and stepped inside the house.   * * *   HALF AN HOUR later I was straddling a fallen spruce, angling the chainsaw to buck the trunk into three-foot rounds that I’d later split into quarters with the long-handled axe. The solitary labor, the sweat staining my shirt, and the burn down deep inside my muscles were a welcome balm after the week I’d had, and the air was rife with the smell of pine tar, sap and chain oil. I looked up and caught some movement in the distance, where the BLM forest gave onto an open range already knee deep with wildflowers and whipgrass. I recognized Tom Jenkins’ roping horse moving hellbent-for-leather across the flats, with young Tom leaning across her withers, one hand on the reins and the other holding his hat in place on top of his head. His mount was an admirable animal, a grullo Quarter Horse that stood nearly seventeen hands, fast and thick through the chest. Tom Jenkins handled her well, and he was beelining in my direction like he had something on his mind. I killed the power on the chainsaw and set it in the bed of the military surplus jeep I use when I do ranch work, stepped over to the fence and took a splash of water from the canteen I’d hung in the shade of a young cedar. I didn’t have to wait long before Tom pulled up in a skidding stop inside a cloud of dust, throwing a cascade of torn earth and pebbles through the barbed strands of the wire. “Mr. Dawson,” he said and touched a finger to his hat brim, sounding nearly as breathless as his horse. “I was hoping that was you.” “What are you doing out here all by yourself?” I asked, but suspected I already knew the answer. When I’d first met Tom Jenkins, he was nothing but a kid with a limp handshake, no eye-contact, and the familiar slope-shouldered gait and posture of the typical aimless teenaged slacker. At that time, he’d been well on his way to serious trouble, the variety and scope of which would have landed him in a six-by-eight jail cell where the other inmates would have eaten him alive. He is the nephew of my neighbor to the south of me, Snoose Corcoran, whose sister had sent the kid up here from California’s central valley to his uncle’s ranch in southeastern Oregon in hopes of putting some distance between young Tom and his unquestionably poor choices of acquaintances. Ill-equipped to deal with the boy himself, Snoose begged me to take the kid on as a maverick, and I’d reluctantly agreed. After six months working side by side with trail hardened cowboys on the Diamond D young Tom Jenkins’ attitude had been readjusted, straightening both his spine and fortitude. Now, at barely 18 years of age, Tom had assumed the reins of the floundering Corcoran cattle operation from his uncle Snoose, who had been gradually disappearing into a bottle. “Cow and a calf went missing from my place,” Tom answered. “Fence busted by the westward line, and I figured them two mighta headed for the water.” My ranch hands ended up nicknaming the kid “Silver,” after he’d astonished us all by stepping up and winning a silver buckle for the Diamond D in the team roping event at the annual rodeo. I knew Tom secretly treasured the handle they’d bestowed, wore it like a medal, but I never spoke it; that was between my men and him. “Where’s your uncle?” I asked. His shrug spoke sorrowful volumes. “So, what set you hightailing over here to see me, son?” I asked. “What’s the trouble? Besides the missing beeves.” “I was up there on the other side of the tree line,” he said. He twisted sideways in his saddle, took off his hat and gestured with it toward a distant stretch of blue sky. “There was an eagle making low passes over the meadow, so I stopped to watch it for a minute. It was so still and quiet out there, I could hear the eagle calling out while it was gliding on the thermals.” “You don’t see something like that every day,” I said. “Not even out here in the boondocks.” “No sir, that’s a fact,” Tom said. “But, while I sat there watching that creature flying, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, a helicopter come buzzing across the ridge, you know the one…” “Big stone bluff, looks like somebody cut it down the middle with a KA-BAR knife.” “That’s the one,” he said. “Well, that chopper came in fast, and went straight toward that bird…” The young man’s voice trailed off, his face contorted like he’d encountered a foul odor. “They circled it as it flew, like they were teasing it. Two men inside the—whattaya call it?” “Cockpit.” “Yeah, the cockpit. Then they started closing in on him, chasing it. The guy in the passenger seat had a rifle in his hands. I could see the barrel sticking out.” What Tom was describing to me was not only a despicable and loathsome act, it was a serious crime. The mere harassment of a protected species is a federal offense; hunting and killing one merely for the sick thrill of it was another matter entirely. “What happened, Tom?” He swallowed drily, shook his head and looked down at the ground between us. “He shot that bird right out of the sky, sir,” he said. “That eagle wasn’t even doing nothing, just gliding circles on the wind, and those assholes—sorry, sir—they shot him cold dead.” I could imagine the creature’s confused and lonely cry as it spiraled down, bleeding, terrified and helpless, to the earth. “You pretty sure about the location, Tom?” “About four, five miles thataway, near the bluff, where the river makes that sharp bend to the south.” “Did you get a look at either of the men?” “Naw, they were too far away and moving pretty fast. But I got a good look at the whirlybird.” I asked him for a description of the helicopter, and I knew right away he was referring to a Bell H-13, known to soldiers as a “Sioux.” They’d been in common use as scouting and medical evacuation aircraft by the military. I’d seen them every day when I was stationed in Korea. “Like the choppers on that TV show?” I asked. “Yes, sir. Exactly like on M*A*S*H.” “Big glass bubble on the front? No doors? Looks kinda like a dragonfly?” “Yes, sir.” “Did you see any numbers written on it? On the tail? Or maybe on the underside?” Tom Jenkins pressed his hat back on his head and gazed up at the empty sky beyond the forest, like he could return that beautiful animal to where it rightfully belonged through sheer force of his will. The high peaks beyond the meadow were streaked with deep blue shadows in the sunlight, their cloughs and gorges washed in purple and topped with snow so white it hurt your eyes. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I don’t remember seeing numbers or anything like that.” His face took on the aspect of defeat, as though some personal failure had cost the animal its life. “You did good, Tom. You did the right thing coming to me straight away. There was nothing else you could have done.” He nodded once, his lips pressed tight, and he leaned down to adjust a stirrup that needed no adjustment. “You want some help finding your cows?” I asked, thinking he might appreciate the company. “I can do it, sir, but thank you. I can haze ’em back home on my own.” “You gotta get eyeballs on the critters first. I can help you, son.” “Thank you just the same, Mr. Dawson… Sheriff… Hell, I don’t even know what to call you.” His expression softened for the first time since he’d showed up, a brief and fleeting smile, then his focus drifted far away again. “Something else, Tom?” “Just wondering.” “Wondering what?” “Do you think you can catch those guys who shot that bird?” “I’m going to try my damndest.” His eyes remained fixed on the horizon. “What’ll happen to ’em if you do?” I drew a bandana from the back pocket of my jeans, removed my hat, and dried the sweat that had been leaking from beneath the band. “It’s been against the law to kill an eagle since the 1940s. If you’re not an Indian, you can’t even possess a single feather. If you get caught, you pay a steep fine and then they send you off to jail. If you’re a rancher, you could lose the leases on your land.” Tom turned his gaze back on me, and I noted for the hundredth time that this young man no longer bore any resemblance to the person he had been on the day he first arrived here from California. “That punishment don’t seem tough enough,” Tom said. “Not for what I seen ’em do.” “No, it doesn’t.” He clucked softly to his horse, and reined her back in the direction from which they’d come. “I’d better get a move on,” he said. “Be careful out there, son,” I said to his retreating back, but my words were lost in the distance. *** Excerpt from KNIFE RIVER by Baron R Birtcher. Copyright 2024 by Baron R Birtcher. Reproduced with permission from Baron R Birtcher. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Baron Birtcher:

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Baron R Birtcher

Baron Birtcher is the LA TIMES and IMBA BESTSELLING author of the hardboiled Mike Travis series (Roadhouse Blues, Ruby Tuesday, Angels Fall, and Hard Latitudes), the award-winning Ty Dawson series (South California Purples, Fistful Of Rain, Reckoning, and Knife River), as well as the critically-lauded stand-alone, RAIN DOGS. Baron is a winner of the SILVER FALCHION AWARD, and the WINNER of 2018’s Killer Nashville READERS CHOICE AWARD, as well as 2019’s BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR for Fistful Of Rain. He has also had the honor of having been named a finalist for the NERO AWARD, the LEFTY AWARD, the FOREWORD INDIE AWARD, the 2016 BEST BOOK AWARD, the Pacific Northwest’s regional SPOTTED OWL AWARD, and the CLAYMORE AWARD. Baron’s writing has been hailed as “The real deal” by Publishers Weekly; “Fast Paced and Engaging” by Booklist; and “Solid, Fluent and Thrilling” by Kirkus. “YOU WANT TO READ BIRTCHER’S BOOKS, THEN YOU WANT TO LIVE IN THEM” ~ Don Winslow, NYT Bestselling author “BIRTCHER IS PART POET, PART PHILOSOPHER, AND A CONSUMMATE WRITER” ~ Reed Farrel Coleman, NYT Bestselling author “REMINISCENT OF THE LATE, GREAT ELMORE LEONARD” ~ Shots Magazine (UK)

Catch Up With Baron R Birtcher: Facebook – @BaronRBirtcher Goodreads BookBub Instagram – @baronbirtcher_author Twitter/X – @BaronBirtcher22

 

 

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THE NOWHERE GIRLS
by Dana Perry
April 1 – May 10, 2024 Virtual Book Tour
THE NOWHERE GIRLS
Book 1 in the Detective Nikki Cassidy series

My kid sister was murdered fifteen years ago. Now the killer has struck again. And this time, I’m going to take my revenge… On the anniversary of her sister’s death, FBI agent Nikki Cassidy takes a call that has her heart pounding in her chest, the image of her beautiful sister Caitlin etched in her mind. Another girl has been taken. Days later, the lifeless body of twelve-year-old Natalie Jarvis is found in a remote patch of woodland, a crown of roses delicately placed on her head. Just like Caitlin. The killer is back. Nikki rushes to her small hometown of Groveton, Ohio. She will do anything to stop another young girl dying, but she soon realises that nothing is what it seems—everyone in her hometown is keeping a secret. And when a note is discovered near Natalie’s body addressed to Nikki, it’s clear what the murderer really wants: her… She’s caught killers before, but this time it’s personal. And Nikki will risk everything—even her own life—to get justice for every victim. It’s time to stop this twisted killer, once and for all…

If you love reading Lisa Regan, Robert Dugoni and Kendra Elliot, you won’t be able to put down this gripping new series. Full of heart-racing twists and turns, you’ll be hooked!
LAST ONE TO DIE
Book 2 in the Detective Nikki Cassidy series

Ten days ago, straight-A student Jessica Staley ran away from home. Now her lifeless body lies pale and still in an empty parking lot, her unblinking brown eyes staring up to the night sky… FBI agent Nikki Cassidy’s heart pounds as she takes in the short, dark hair and delicate features of fourteen-year-old schoolgirl Jessica Stanley. It’s another unsolved murder in Groveton, Ohio, just like her sister, Caitlin, fifteen years before. Her family beg her to keep her distance, but Nikki knows she can’t walk away. What if her sister’s killer is back? Talking to Jessica’s heartbroken family, Nikki learns that she wasn’t happy at home. Just days ago, she packed a few belongings into her school backpack and left, never to be seen alive again. Determined to give Jessica’s family the answers she never found for herself, Nikki works around the clock, trawling hours of CCTV footage from the scene. And just when she thinks she’s close to uncovering the truth, a chilling email arrives that confirms her deepest fear. There are more victims, Nikki. Can you ever stop me? This killer is playing a dangerous game, and he has Nikki in his sights now—one wrong move and she could be his next victim. She’s determined to unmask the monster who has tortured her hometown for decades. But what if the killer is someone close to her? What if it’s someone she loves?

Fans of Lisa Regan, Robert Dugoni and Kendra Elliot will absolutely love this gripping new series from Dana Perry. Prepare to stay up all night!
THE LOST ONES
Book 3 in the Detective Nikki Cassidy series

As dawn breaks over a small gas station on the outskirts of Groveton, Ohio, the body of a teenage girl lies totally still. Long blonde hair covers her face, and a length of frayed rope hangs loosely around her neck. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds her, just like her killer intended… When FBI agent Nikki Cassidy receives a call from Groveton’s Chief of Police, her heart pounds. A young girl just knocked on the door of Nikki’s old family home, claiming to be Nikki’s kid sister, Caitlin. But Caitlin was murdered fifteen years ago. Who is the girl and what does she want? Nikki thinks the impersonator could finally lead her to her sister’s twisted killer. But her hope is shattered when the girl’s lifeless body is found strangled at a local service stop. If the girl knew about Caitlin, could she have known the identity of the killer? Was she murdered before she could unmask them?

Going against her boss’s orders to stay away, Nikki traces the girl’s last known steps to her best friend, Shirley. Nikki learns that the girl was last seen meeting with a stranger at the mall. Could it have been her killer?

Closer than ever to uncovering the truth, Nikki can’t give up now. But when Shirley’s body is found at another service station, a length of rope wound around her neck, her heart shatters. Another young life has been lost. Nikki vows that this will be the last.

When an intruder breaks into her old home, Nikki knows it’s the killer sending her a sign. As she walks into the familiar old house in the dead of night, will she finally get justice and catch her sister’s killer, or did she just walk into a deadly trap?

Praise for Dana Perry:

THE NOWHERE GIRLS: “A twisty-breath-taking page-turner that will keep you on the edge of your seat until it’s stunning conclusion. Fast-paced and riveting, it keeps you guessing till the very end.” Lisa Regan, author

“A thrilling new series.” Killer Nashville

“A fantastic book… Dana Perry has created one heck of female lead!” NetGalley reviewer

“Wow!!!!! What did I just read!!! Mind blown!!!! Absolutely shattered after being up all night reading but boy was it worth it! Absolutely unputdownable!!” Bookworm86

“This was an edge-of-your-seat page-turner!” @annette_reads_daily

 

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Thriller

Published by: Bookouture Publication Date: April 2, 2024 Number of Pages: 341 ISBN: 9781803147932 (ISBN10: 1803147938) Series: Detective Nikki Cassidy

 

Enjoy this peek inside:

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About Author Dana Perry:

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Dana Perry

I am a New York City author who writes mystery thrillers under the pen name of Dana Perry – and also as R.G. Belsky.

Catch Up With Dana Perry: www.RGBelsky.com/dana-perry-books Goodreads BookBub Twitter/X – @DanaPerryAuthor Facebook – @DanaPerryAuthor Instagram – @dickbelsky

 

 

.
Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

 

 

Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Dana Perry & R.G. Belsky. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

 

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~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.