Posts Tagged ‘crime’

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A Swedish Crime Novel

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Acquittal?

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Stockholm Sleuth Series Book 5

by Christer Tholin

Genre: Mystery, Crime

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A Swedish Crime Novel

Umeå, Northern Sweden: Willmar Björkman has been incarcerated for five years after being found guilty on a murder charge; albeit unjustly convicted according to his claims. From the very start, he has adamantly maintained that he is innocent of the crime. Detectives Lars and Elin are hired to find new evidence that casts doubt upon the validity of the guilty verdict so that a retrial of his case can be requested. Is that even possible now that so much time has passed? The two detectives start asking around to dig up some new information, but find themselves facing a wall of silence – nobody seems interested in reopening the case. In fact, they themselves are uncertain if Willmar is even innocent at all. But then the coincidences begin to pile up and ultimately the investigation spins completely out of control…

ACQUITTAL? is the fifth, standalone book from Christer Tholin’s Stockholm Sleuth Series.

If you like fast-paced action and surprising twists and turns, then you will love Christer Tholin’s sleuth series.

Buy ACQUITTAL? to see how this suspenseful case is solved!

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Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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It had grown late; it was completely dark on the country road, there were no street lights out here. Tall trees stood to the right and left. The snow that lay under the trees did nothing to brighten it. The asphalt was glistening from the wetness, at least Elin hoped that it was water and not ice, because the temperature was around freezing. Once the sun set, the thermometer could quickly drop a few degrees, and then there could be black ice on the ground after the rain. She slowed down – forty-five miles per hour were allowed here. She preferred to go slower than that, especially around the curves.

The lights from oncoming vehicles were blinding. Every time a car came along, she had to concentrate to stay in her lane. She slowed down even further and now was only driving thirty-five miles per hour. That didn’t suit the man behind, he flashed his lights at her several times. Now she was also blinded by the light from the side mirrors. Finally, he overtook after a curve. Well, at least he couldn’t bother her anymore.

For a while everything went fine, she slowly began to relax, but she still maintained a reduced speed. After the idiot from before, there had been no more cars behind her, but now she noticed a car slowly getting closer. Judging from the lighting, it had to be a bigger vehicle. Why did he have to drive like that on this road? She fully understood that the locals knew this road well and could probably judge the weather conditions better than she could, but nevertheless, you should probably still be a little more careful when driving a truck. Well, she had to concede, if he was carrying a heavy load, he probably had little to worry about, even if it was a little slippery. In Stockholm, until recently, the buses didn’t even have winter tires; they all had all-season tires to save costs. Only last year did they start to gradually change over the tires, because there had been a few accidents. After each bend, the lights disappeared behind Elin, only to reappear on the next straight stretch, and a little faster each time – the distance between them was rapidly shrinking. Elin kept glancing nervously in the rearview mirror, she hated it when people tailgated. It was indeed a truck, one of those giant ones, and now he was driving close behind her, flashing his lights. Just what she had been afraid of. She felt compelled to drive a little faster, but she didn’t go beyond forty. Unfortunately, it didn’t help, the truck was still sticking like glue to her. If she had to brake for any reason now, he’d probably run her off the road. Elin hoped that after the next curve there was a clear stretch again so that the guy could pass her. She was uncomfortable with this brightly lit monster clinging to her tail. Trees on either side, blinding lights from the front, and that idiot with all the horsepower tailgating. Carefully she went around the bend – yes, there was a longer clear stretch coming up here, and at the moment there was no oncoming traffic. Furthermore, there was now a small slope on the right side, which increased the distance to the forest and made the road look a little brighter. Elin could only hope that the driver of the truck would take this chance. She looked in the rearview mirror – yeah, he flashed his lights and pulled his vehicle into the left lane. Elin took her foot off the gas and the truck pulled alongside her. It was one of those trucks that transported lumber, fully loaded and with a trailer. They all sped through here like jackasses, the speed limits didn’t seem to apply to them. Water splashed onto her car from the side, her vision was blurred for a brief moment, then the windshield wiper swept over it and she could see the road in front of her again. The truck was halfway past her now but seemed to be slowing down. Elin checked her speedometer, it was thirty-five, which made her wonder if the truck was running out of steam? Irritated, she looked ahead, luckily no oncoming traffic. She reduced her speed even more, which allowed the truck to move past her a bit more. But what was he doing now? What the hell, he was braking! The red brake lights shone brightly. And now he pulled over towards her side. Why? The tree trunks were coming menacingly closer, Elin honked the horn and slammed down on her brake. She felt the rear of her car swerve, while all that was visible in front of her were wheels and wood. The truck cut her off! In a panic, she turned to the right. At that moment her Volvo got a bump in the front and was pushed even further towards the roadside. She pressed on the brakes with all her might, but despite this, she was still getting closer and closer to the downhill slope. She would bring the car to a stop in a moment, just in time. But then the Volvo got a bump from behind and slid down the slope. Snow, trees – Elin screamed. The Volvo spun, the wheels hitting some obstacle. Then the car overturned – the last thing Elin saw was her airbag deploying.

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**Don’t miss the rest of the series!**

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Find them on Amazon

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Christer was raised in the North of Germany, Schleswig-Holstein. After having spent years in Berlin / Germany, Brighton /UK and Budapest / Hungary, he has now been living in Stockholm / Sweden for almost two decades.

As a crime-story aficionado of long standing, Christer always wanted to write detective stories of his own that would not only be exciting, but that would also be set against the backdrop of the natural beauty of Sweden – and that would afford him the opportunity to portray Swedish society as seen through the eyes of a foreigner. The result: his “Stockholm Sleuth Series.”

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The Medusa Murders by Joy Ann Ribar Banner

The Medusa Murders
by Joy Ann Ribar
November 13-24, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

 

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Synopsis:

Professor Bay Browning has more snake problems than the Garden of Eden in this twisted mystery. The English Literature instructor is busy preparing for a new semester when a serial killer, known as Medusa, bites her quiet life in the behind. A wild ride ensues when Bay and her grifter sister, Cass, assist a perturbed Detective Downing with the investigation. What else can the sisters do, once they become Medusa’s targets? Will the slithering trail of mythology, art history, and family secrets help them catch a killer before she turns them to stone?

Praise for The Medusa Murders:

“This first-in-series held me captive on the edge of my seat where I frantically turned the pages of this intricately crafted story, desperate to solve the mystery. And, oh, what a revelation it is!” ~ Laurie Buchanan, author of the Sean McPherson crime thriller novels

“A gritty and intense mystery that grabs you and won’t let go until the end. The personal relationships are complex, just like many in real life, and the familial drama pulls you in.” Kelly Young, author of A Travel Writer mystery series and Haunted and Harassed paranormal mystery series

“Ribar effectively wraps mythology, academia, archeology, and a touch of paranormal phenomena together to produce a more than satisfying read. Looking forward to spending more time with Bay.” ~ Debra H. Goldstein, author of The Sarah Blair Mysteries

“A well-written, fast-paced and vibrant debut novel. A highly recommended new series.” ~ Christine DeSmet, writing coach and author of The Fudge Shop Mystery series and Mischief in Moonstone series

 

Book Details:

Genre: Amateur Sleuth, Mystery, Crime

Published by: Wine Glass Press Publication Date: November 2023 Number of Pages: 316 ISBN: 9781959078203 Series: Bay Browning Mysteries, #1

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

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MY REVIEW

I read a lot of crime and mystery stories. Can’t get enough of them. It must be that amateur sleuth inside me. I want to dig deep, follow bread crumbs, guess who’s the bad guy or gal. Sometimes I get so caught up in the book that I want so bad to step into the character’s shoes. Solve it myself. That’s how it was in The Medusa Murders.

Profess Bay Browning is busy getting ready for the next semester when a killer has other ideas. Dubbed Medusa, the serial killer has added Bay to the menu of potential victims to be killed. Along with her grifter sister, Cass. Bay sticks her nose in the investigation, much to Detective Downings annoyance.

There was so much to like about this mystery. The characters. The mix of archaeology and mythology. A truly bad, bad guy. A convoluted not easily solved mystery. And did I mention the characters?

It’s exciting to find and try a new series and author. I had high hopes for The Medusa Murders and Author Joy Ann Ribar delivered.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
Back at the parking space, Bay opened the passenger door and looked at the white particles in brighter light. They were sprinkled like powdered sugar over the right side of the back seat, directly underneath the bag of clothes Bay had gone through last night. She felt certain the particles must have come from the lululemon coat pocket. She remembered seeing Detective Harris turn the pocket inside out over one of the evidence bags. Had there been feathers in either of the pockets? The empty parking lot at Giorgio’s put a smile on Bay’s face when she parked the Subaru a few minutes later. She was impatient to get to the bottom of the dry-cleaning mix-up and anxious to shake some details out of Giorgio. She could see him standing behind the customer counter, grooming his dark slicked-back hair and straightening his blue and white polo shirt that matched the building. “Good morning, L.L. I see you have nothing in your hands, so what can I do for you today?” Giorgio’s velvety voice was smoother than grease. “Cut the crap, Giorgio. You know why I’m here. Obviously, you sent the police to see me about my lululemon. What’s the story?” Bay frowned and her dark eyes narrowed. Giorgio backed away as if Bay might punch him, marring his handsome face. He was Stasia’s youngest brother, probably around Bay’s age. Bay had learned more Andino family facts than she cared to after attending the mandatory gatherings at Stasia’s home the past year. He held up both hands, placatingly. “I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t much. My niece, Aria, was working on the day of the mix-up. She’s in back. I’ll go get her.” “Get my lululemon, too, while you’re back there.” Might as well kill two birds as they say. Aria was short and pretty with wide dark eyes and thick black hair pulled into a neat bun on top of her head. She wore the same blue and white polo over hospital-style light blue pants. Bay guessed she was barely out of high school. What was that expression: fear or guilt on Aria’s face? “Good morning, Professor Browning. My uncle is looking for your raincoat.” Aria didn’t look Bay in the eyes. Dialing down from accusatory to neutral tone, Bay began her questions. “I understand you were working when my lululemon was switched with the one the police confiscated.” No point in lollygagging her way to the matter at hand. Aria looked down at her fingers, which were drumming methodically on the counter as if playing a tune on a piano. One hand stopped while the other slowed to a quiet tapping. “Yes. There were three other coats almost identical to yours when he brought in the one the police were after.” Bay registered the information. “Who is he that brought the coat in, please?” The girl seemed quite fragile, so kid gloves were in order for this interrogation. Bay was accustomed to communicating with students Aria’s age, and she knew the best methods for building trust and rapport. The finger tapping continued at a leisurely pace. Bay could almost pick out a rhumba beat. Aria continued to focus on her fingers, not looking up. “He said his name was Chance.” She closed her eyes, conjuring his image. “He was wearing a black hoodie but took the hood off to talk to me. He had short dreadlocks swept up to one side and had smart glasses on. You know, his glasses made him look smart.” She smiled, caught up in the memory. It was clear to Bay the boy had charmed Aria, and just maybe she would do anything for him. “Did Chance ask you for a favor, Aria?” She blushed, then turned a deep red. “He used me…” She choked back tears. “Yeah, boys are scum,” Bay empathized, glaring at Giorgio who had emerged from the back room empty-handed. The finger tapping quickened as the incident unfolded, from a waltz to a cha-cha, Aria’s eyes remained closed during the telling. “He asked me if people brought their expensive clothing here. Like could we be trusted with their stuff, you know. He said he had his mom’s lululemon, and he was kind of flirting with me.” She paused, thinking. “I told him we had three of those same coats in the back right now, and they were already cleaned and ready to pick up. I offered to show him, so he would know he could leave his mom’s coat here.” Aria stopped tapping and looked at Bay’s face where empathy greeted her like a warm embrace. “I didn’t know Chance wanted to swap coats until he asked if I could swap one of the clean coats for his mother’s dirty one.” I figured that he was responsible for getting it dirty, and he didn’t want her to know about it. “So, you randomly chose my coat and made the switch.” Bay wanted to sound helpful by filling in details, so Aria’s head shake surprised her. “No. That’s when things got weird. He asked me if we had L.L. Browning’s coat. He specifically wanted to trade his coat for yours.” Giorgio interrupted his niece, casting a warning look with shifty eyes. Bay couldn’t be fooled. “Why didn’t you call me Friday to let me know about the switch or the police? You knew they were coming to question me.” She darted daggers at Giorgio, who winced and backed away. “I didn’t think you were in danger, or I would have called you. How could I know that the lululemon was murder evidence? *** Excerpt from The Medusa Murders by Joy Ann Ribar. Copyright 2023 by Joy Ann Ribar. Reproduced with permission from Joy Ann Ribar. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Joy Ann Ribar :

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Joy Ann Ribar

Joy Ann Ribar is an RV author, writing on the road wherever her husband and their Winnebago View wanders. Joy’s cocktail of careers includes news reporter, paralegal, English educator, and aquaponics greenhouse technician, all of which prove useful in penning mysteries. She loves to bake, read, do wine research, and explore nature. Joy’s writing is inspired by Wisconsin’s four distinct seasons, natural beauty, and kind-hearted, but sometimes quirky, people. Joy holds a BA in Journalism from UW-Madison and an MS in Education from UW-Oshkosh. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Blackbird Writers, and Wisconsin Writers Association.

Catch Up With Joy Ann Ribar: JoyRibar.com Goodreads BookBub – @ribarjoy Instagram – @authorjoyribar Facebook – @JoyRibarAuthor

Want to mention her on Twitter/X? Use #JoyAnnRibar and share the love!

 

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Cold Case Detective Katie Scott must balance her work and private life, while tracking down a sadistic serial killer in the aftermath of her fiancé who went missing without a trace.

 

Title: Her Dying Kiss

Author: Jennifer Chase

Publication Date: July 17, 2023

Pages: 370

Genre: Crime Thriller



goodreads add to

 

She wakes to the dawn light streaming through the window and rolls over to
whisper good morning to her fiancé. But panic floods her veins. His side
of the bed is empty and cold. Blood trails towards the open door. All
trace of him is gone…

It’s been one month since Detective Katie Scott’s fiancé, Chad, went missing
without a trace. Devastated Katie is still working tirelessly day and
night to track down the love of her life, barely sleeping and chasing
every new lead. But now the case has gone cold.

When the body of beautiful Gina Hartfield is discovered among the pine
needles in a clearing on Lookout Ridge, Katie swallows her own pain and
knows she must focus on finding Gina’s killer. The young woman was found
with a pink velvet blindfold shading the hollows where her eyes had
been removed. Katie is certain she is chasing a sadistic individual who
will soon take another life…

But the autopsy reveals Gina’s body was washed before being abandoned,
leaving no trace of evidence behind. And with no witnesses to Gina’s
disappearance, the women of Pine Valley are terrified to go out alone.

Desperately combing the crime scene, when Katie sees a newspaper article about her
previous cases pinned to a nearby tree, she is certain Gina’s murder is
personal. Then tire tracks found in the forest are matched to a truck
seen following Chad in the days leading up to his disappearance. Katie’s
blood runs cold.

Is there a link between Chad’s disappearance and Gina’s brutal murder, or
is the killer playing a twisted game with Katie? Can she find out the
truth before they take another life?

Here’s what critics are saying about Her Dying Kiss!

“I couldn’t put it down… action-packed with excellent plot twists… I had
no idea what was coming next… so gripped with many twists and turns.”
Goodreads reviewer

“Excellent, nail-biting thriller with a plot that’s had me enthralled from page
one… I’ve been gripped through each twist and turn… jaw-dropping and
totally unexpected… brilliant.”
NetGalley reviewer

Buy Links:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookouture

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Interview With Author Jennifer Chase

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I’m dying to find out all about your new book, Her Dying Kiss: Detective Katie Scott Book 10! Can you tell us about the main characters?

Detective Katie Scott is a force to be reckoned with heading up the cold case unit for the Pine Valley Sheriff’s Department. She is tough, tenacious, and is an Army veteran who worked two tours in Afghanistan as part of a K9 Explosives team with her partner Cisco, a black German shepherd.

Katie’s partner, Detective Sean McGaven, is a techie with a cool head balancing the duo along with his doggedness and strength. Her uncle is Sheriff Wayne Scott, which makes cases more difficult at times but they’re working it out. Her handsome fire inspector fiancé and childhood love, Chad Ferguson, compliments her life.

Katie Scott sounds like a kick a** character! If you can think back to when you came up with her character, were there any real life influences that helped shape her character?

Katie Scott is definitely a no nonsense kick a** character! I wanted to have a detective with a military background with her military K9 that struggles with post-traumatic stress. I’ve had some personal struggles that helped me to create her. For as strong as she is—she has flaws and battles with bringing home difficulties from the Army. It has been a challenge and whole lot of fun putting this character in all types of situations while hunting down killers.

Since this book is book 10 in the Detective Katie Scott series, do you have an idea on how many books will be in the series or is it too early to tell?

I’m not sure how many books there will eventually be—as of today, there are 13 books scheduled. But one thing is for sure, there are so many stories that I can write about for Detective Katie Scott. It’s up to the readers and publisher for now.

I know you get this asked many times, but why crime fiction?

Why not crime fiction? It’s my favorite genre. Any story that revolves around action, suspense, mystery, and thrills is my kind of book and it’s incredibly fun to write.

Do you have a “real” job other than writing, and if so, what is it? What are some other jobs you’ve had in your life?

I have written full-time for the past ten years. Before, I was an accountant that worked in the corporate world. Now I have you thinking!

Does a big ego help or hurt an author?

A big ego doesn’t help much. It’s so important to stay grounded and humble in this field, working to improve your craft, growing as a writer, and enjoying yourself in the process.

As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal?

That’s easy. It would be my two German shepherds that are right by my side when I write.

What advice would you give a writer working on their first book?

There’s a lot of advice out there, but write what you love and not what someone tells you that you should write. And most of all… don’t give up if you get discouraged. Write. Write. And keep writing.

What would you like to say to your readers and fans?

I wouldn’t be able to do what I love to do without readers and fans. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I personally think that I have the best readers!

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Book Excerpt  

 

Chapter One

One Month Later

Tuesday 1130 hours

There was a dead body, which was the focus of the synchronized police search. A deceased woman had been found by the utility company during their routine check and maintenance of the meters along the roadway. The body was efficiently wrapped in a large piece of dark brown burlap that had been rolled several times leaving only her head exposed. If not looking closely you would misinterpret the body dump for some type of discarded rug.

The victim was a brunette woman with long, perfectly combed hair with the strands resting on the burlap. At first, it seemed she was relaxed and had merely gone to sleep when, in fact, there were pink velvet pieces of fabric covering her eyes, as if shading her view of something.

John Blackburn, Pine Valley Sheriff’s Department’s forensic supervisor, kneeled down and carefully lifted one of the pieces of velvet, revealing the dark empty socket the eyeball had once occupied. The eye had been cleanly detached. It gave the body a more macabre appearance than the usual fixed eye stares of the dead.

John’s face was deeply sad and his mouth was turned down as he prepared to take a few more photos to document the scene before the medical examiner’s office took possession.

He carefully circled the body, taking the appropriate photographs—overall, medium range, then close-up—before collecting any evidence he could find. The young woman looked to be resting as the late afternoon sunshine cast down on her face. Her complexion, pale and ashen, appeared to be scrubbed clean, giving her a waxy doll-like exterior. There were no evident signs of makeup, dirt or blood on her face.

The south district area of Pine Valley was known for several warehouses that had been empty now for more than six months after a manufacturing company had vacated to a newer and more modern facility in an adjacent town. The front area to the one where the body had been found was overgrown, the weeds a few feet tall and garbage strewn around from where it had fallen out of an overturned, rusted-out dumpster. The dreary grey building looked more like emergency bunkers from a long time ago than a plant that had recently manufactured automotive parts.

Parked along the cracked driveway leading to the loading docks were several police cruisers, county vehicles and the forensic van. The main area of interest was near one of the loading bays. There were numerous cones and flags around, marking various pieces of evidence for photography documentation. The emergency personnel monitored the area and were conducting grid searches and making sure that no one was in or around the area that wasn’t supposed to be there, in addition to searching for more potential evidence. Everyone moved with precision and unity for the common goal of maintaining the crime scene.

“What do you think, John?” asked Detective McGaven. His towering height made him noticeable from a distance. His badge and gun were attached to his belt. “Is it the same as the other at Lookout Ridge?”

John walked up to the detective and nodded slowly. “We won’t know for sure until the body is unrolled and examined under controlled conditions, and I can run some tests… but, the signature appears to be similar if not the same, with the removed eyes.”

McGaven scratched his head, still observing the latest victim. His thoughts returned to his partner, Detective Katie Scott, and how he wished she were there examining the crime scene. Her perspective, instincts, and experience over the past year and half had been more than exemplary—her methods sometimes bordering on unorthodox, but always getting results. He had left several messages for her in hopes that she would open communications and ultimately return to work. His expression was solemn. It was as if a part of him was missing without her. He wanted to go to her house, but respected her need for privacy at this difficult time.

“Wish Katie was here?” said John watching the detective closely.

McGaven looked at the forensic supervisor and nodded. “How’d you know?”

“I feel it too. It seems strange not having her here.” He gazed around the area as if he expected to see Katie appear.

“Anything new with this scene?”

John shook his head. “Not that I can see right now. But we’ll know more soon.”

McGaven was disappointed, but knew that John would do everything he could to find any evidence. The last thing the detective wanted was for these homicides to go cold. He turned away and saw Detective Hamilton speaking with the utility workers. It wasn’t his optimum partnership, but he respected the detective and would overlook personality differences to make it work. “Thanks, John,” he said as he walked away, moving carefully around the area, looking for possible entrances and exit locations of the killer.

A young blonde woman with short hair was bent over taking a tire impression with a type of dental stone, waiting for it to harden. She looked up when McGaven approached. “Hi, Detective,” she said and smiled.

“How’s it going, Eva?”

“Good. This is my third impression. Two were consistent to each other and this one is different and definitely older. It’s probably not the killer’s, but John said we needed to be thorough.”

McGaven nodded. “I agree. If this crime scene is connected to the other one at Lookout Ridge, then we need the evidence to tie them together.”

“Ten-four,” she said and continued her task.

McGaven saw that Hamilton was speaking with the officers first on the scene so he took the opportunity to check out around the building. Everything was extremely overgrown, looking more as though it had been abandoned for years, not months. The weeds were extremely tall and had folded over due to their height and weight. There was an area where pallets, recyclable materials, and miscellaneous pieces of metal equipment had been stacked in the deserted area.

Still walking carefully, he was trying not to step on something potentially hazardous or possibly evidence-oriented. The further he walked the quieter it became—the voices around the crime scene seemed to settle to a low hum as he studied the back area. The sun was high and beat down on him making perspiration trickle down his back. He kept walking, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. He thought about what Katie would do—he had been with her at many crime scenes and knew she would try to get a sense of the area, to look for places where the killer might have been.

The back of the building looked much like the front except more weather-beaten. The grey paint faded in areas and the windows on the second floor were dirty with some broken out. He observed the inconsistencies of the exterior of the building. Even though there wasn’t any graffiti to deface the area, the elements had caused rough and weathered places resembling an industrial mosaic appearance.

As he perused the area, he noticed a trail where weeds had been trampled, not by animals, but by something bigger. A person. Stopping in his tracks, he systematically scanned the area. There were no other signs indicating disruption to the weeds, so he cautiously moved forward. He spotted some paper or a piece of garbage rolled up tightly and wedged into the crevice of an exterior vent. It could have been easily missed or even dismissed, but something in McGaven’s gut made him take notice. He was going to alert John and Eva in order to have them search and document the area, but his instinct drove him to verify the origins of the paper first after quickly taking a photo of it with his cell phone.

Taking two more steps to meet up with the wall, he retrieved his gloves and slipped them on, and then carefully touched the paper. Leaning in, McGaven noticed that it appeared to be consistent to ordinary computer paper that had something printed on it. It wasn’t weathered and the printing was dark and readable. In fact, the paper appeared to be recent.

McGaven gently unrolled the paper. The condition and edges were as if it had been placed recently – there were no folds or fragile areas. As he continued to unroll it, he saw it was an article most likely printed from the internet. To his shock, the title read: Pine Valley Detectives Solve Three Murders in Coldwater Creek.

McGaven took a step back—his senses were now heightened as he glanced around, surmising that the killer had placed this article for them to find.

Why?

Was it the killer’s calling card? Was he taunting the police?

Was there another article hidden at the previous crime scene at Lookout Ridge they had missed?

The article concerned the last case that he and Katie had worked in a neighboring town. All the details flowed through his mind. It had been tough and dangerous. He carefully replaced the paper where he had found it and hurried to alert John.

 

 

 

About the Author
 

 

Jennifer
Chase is a multi award-winning and USA Today Best Selling crime fiction
author, as well as a consulting criminologist. Jennifer holds a
bachelor degree in police forensics and a master’s degree in criminology
& criminal justice. These academic pursuits developed out of her
curiosity about the criminal mind as well as from her own experience
with a violent psychopath, providing Jennifer with deep personal
investment in every story she tells. In addition, she holds
certifications in serial crime and criminal profiling.

Author Links  

Website | BookBub | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sponsored By:

 

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

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There’s A Dead Girl In My Yard
Angela Page & Mia Altieri
Publication date: December 1st 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Crime

Inspired by true events!

The life of Poppy, a struggling actress, is turned upside down when she witnesses the burial of an urn in her yard. Poppy gets entangled with the “dead girl,” Dalia, a Latina health guru, whose mourners show up in the yard, and whose criminal antics, ranging from Miami to New York to L.A., sent her into a witness protection program.

Why does Poppy agree to mourner manage Dalia’s burial site?

Dead Dalia’s fan club overwhelm Poppy with their visits, as do the dangerous signs of Dalia’s former life as healer and thief. Still, Poppy finds that wearing Dalia’s clothes bring her good luck in auditions and that Dalia’s luscious, Latin lovers are irresistible. Is Dalia really dead? Once Poppy is accused of complicity with Dalia’s crimes, she wants everything Dalia out of her life.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this glimpse inside:

Just after I moved into the guesthouse, they buried a dead girl in my yard. That’s when my life turned upside down and inside out for the second time. The first time was when the doctors rearranged my colon.

I was thrilled to move into the Topanga Canyon guesthouse, a boho-chic area north of Los Angeles. I knew about Topanga from growing up in the nearby San Fernando Valley. Now, as a struggling, mostly unemployed actress, I was living in a shitty, Hollywood neighborhood. Although it was a cute, little bungalow, the environment was killing me—dirty, filthy, hot, too much traffic, zero fresh air, noisy and people living on the edge. Hollywood was no longer glamorous. And parking was a son of a bitch. Also, at age forty-six, I was done stepping over homeless people. Sorry-not-sorry, and I deserved different and better. Even though many times, I had been close to homeless myself.

The universe spoke when I met Lily Jin at a Hollywood acting workshop. She was an exotic-looking and a mixed something. A twenty-two-year-old gal, and a lite-Buddhist, like me. I usually do just enough chanting to keep the demons and gremlins away for the day.

Lily was wearing torn jeans over her long, model-like legs and a midriff exposing a flat, firm tummy. There was not an ounce of fat anywhere.

Oh, to be twenty again and be able to eat, drink, smoke and snort anything. That was several decades behind me. My five-six, lanky frame was getting flabby. Yes, even skinny people can get flabby. I was now in yucky perimenopause, with the last of my overcooked eggs dropping into withering fallopian tubes and heading down through my dried-up hoo-ha. Luckily, at first glance, you can’t tell this is happening unless you’re airport security staff.

My dirty blonde shoulder length hair only needed a bit of henna to hide the grey and my brown eyes were still bright and youthful. This helped my agent place me in the thirty-five-to-forty-five roles, despite being in my mid-forties.

To date, no surgery, minimal fillers and injectables. However, as I headed towards the half-century mark, I would revisit. In the meantime, I strove to sharpen my acting skills, and let gravity have its way with me.

While in the workshop, Lily and I tried following the acting exercise. As we were pretending to be wounded sheep during an alien invasion, Lily whispered to me, asking if I knew of anyone who wanted to rent her guesthouse. After the workshop, we went to the El Compadre on Sunset to discuss the details. We were served frozen skinny margs, then toasted each other and became besties in an instant. When Lily told me that the guesthouse was in Topanga Canyon, I shouted over the mariachi band, “I’ll take it, I’ll take it, I’ll take it!” Even sight unseen and not knowing the price, she had me at “Topanga Canyon.”

I had heard about Topanga. It was crawling with the famous and the has-beens who never were. The town was known for its eclectic artists and colorful history, including one of the Manson family murders. During the Hollywood golden age, it was the weekend getaway hotspot for the now-dead stars you can see on the Turner Classic Movie channel. It had changed, but still had some leftover glamour and pricey homes. I was already fantasizing about living among the stars, wearing designer sunglasses and sipping champagne.

Before Lily would show me the property, we had to chant together while we were still drinking at El Compadre. The place was crowded, and the mariachi band was still in high gear. I knew I looked skeptical about chanting.

“Come on, we can do it. Tune the Mexicans out,” Lily said as she closed her eyes and chanted.

The waiter came by and made a comment. But I only caught, “Locas.” I kept one eye open and one closed while I chanted with Lily. It felt like a minute, and then she paused. We both instinctually did a pinkie swear. As we exhaled, we vowed to make this living situation work. I was cleared to visit the digs. But the rent Lily was going to charge was under market. So, was there a catch: leaking roof, Peeping Toms, bad plumbing, crawling with critters?

 

Author Angela Page:

Angela Page is a writer, film producer, and graduate of The London School of Economics and New York University.

“THERE’S A DEAD GIRL IN MY YARD” is her latest co-authored released inspired by real events!

“SUDDENLY SINGLE SYLVIA,” a novella and dating guide and the basis for the award-winning short film “SYLVIA.”

“MATCHED IN HEAVEN,” a comic fantasy romance, was the winner of the 2015 New Apple humor category and 2015/16 Readers’ Views award winner in romance.

Her short stories have been published in a variety of magazines and anthologies. She wrote and produced the multi award-winning comedy short, “Unplugging Aunt Vera” which is featured on the SHORTS TV channel. Her other short works can be seen on IndiPix Unlimited and FunnyorDie

Website / Goodreads / Instagram

 

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Eye for Eye

by JK Franko

on Tour July 22 – September 20, 2019

Eye for Eye by JK Franko  

“NEW TWIST ON STRANGERS ON A TRAIN” ~ THE SUNDAY TIMES

Roy and Susie are on a skiing holiday, trying to take a break from the constant reminders of their daughter, tragically killed by a careless driver. Out of the blue they meet Deb and Tom, another couple with a tragic past and a shocking proposal to put things right. As the bodies accumulate, secrets are revealed and alliances crumble. Ultimate survival depends on following the rules for a perfect murder. And the first rule is… leave no singing bones.  

Genre: Crime & Mystery Published by: Talion Publishing Publication Date: June 22nd 2019 Number of Pages: 400 ISBN: 1999318803 (ISBN13: 9781999318802) Series: Talion #1 Purchase Links: Amazon | Goodreads

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Check out the excerpt:

When I try to piece together how this whole mess began, a part of me thinks it may have started over thirty years ago. At least the seeds were planted that far back, in the early 1980s. What happened then, at that summer camp in Texas, set the stage for everything that was to come. Odd, how something so remote in time and geography continues to impact me here, today. Sometimes I try to imagine her, how she felt—that eleven year-old girl—as she ran, stumbling and tripping through the woods that night. I try to put myself in her shoes. When I do, I wonder if she was frightened. Did she understand the consequences of what she’d gotten herself into? I imagine it felt otherworldly to her, like a dream. But not a good dream. No, one of the bad ones—the ones that make your heart machine-gun as you try to outrun some dark thing that’s chasing you. But the faster you try to run, the slower you go, your legs feeling leaden, clumsy, useless. Panic sets in. Tears of frustration form. Fear takes hold and won’t let go. You open your mouth to scream but realize, to your horror, that you’re paralyzed. It’s not that you can’t scream; you can’t even breathe. Not a dream—a nightmare. Then again, all that may simply be my imagination. It could just be me projecting what I might have felt onto Joan. Maybe she wasn’t scared at all. True, it was dark out. The night smelled of rain, but there was no lightning, only the far-off rumble of thunder hinting at a distant storm. There were no trail lights, no visibility but for the moon peeking out intermittently from behind a patchwork of clouds. But, Joan had been down this trail before. She was running toward the main cabin. She had been at Camp Willow for almost two full weeks. She had been up and down that trail at least ten times a day, every day. Of course, that was during the day, and always with her buddy, or a camp counselor (the children called them troop leaders). Joan had never been on the trail at night. And never alone. Maybe I imagine Joan was scared because, as an adult, I believe that she should have been. I would have been terrified. *** Excerpt from Eye For Eye by JK Franko. Copyright © 2019 by JK Franko. Reproduced with permission from JK Franko. All rights reserved.
 

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About Author J.K. Franko

  JK Franko J.K. FRANKO was born and raised in Texas. His Cuban-American parents agreed there were only three acceptable options for a male child: doctor, lawyer, and architect. After a disastrous first year of college pre-Med, he ended up getting a BA in philosophy (not acceptable), then he went to law school (salvaging the family name) and spent many years climbing the big law firm ladder. After ten years, he decided that law and family life weren’t compatible. He went back to school where he got an MBA and pursued a Ph.D. He left law for corporate America, with long stints in Europe and Asia. His passion was always to be a writer. After publishing a number of non-fiction works, thousands of hours writing, and seven or eight abandoned fictional works over the course of eighteen years, EYE FOR EYE became his first published novel. J.K. Franko now lives with his wife and children in Florida.

Catch Up With JK Franko On: jkfranko.com, Goodreads, Twitter, & Facebook!

 

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.
Casino Girl
Baxter and Holt #2
by Leslie Wolfe
Genre: Crime, Suspense Thriller
 
In Las Vegas, secrets are deadly.
 

Detectives Laura Baxter and Jack Holt are
members of the elite: Las Vegas Metro PD, one of the toughest and
most respected law enforcement agencies in the United States. In the
middle of a city with two million residents and 43 million annual
visitors, they’re hunting for a killer. 
The girl
When a beautiful, young
girl is killed in the high-roller Pleasure Pit of the exclusive Scala
Casino, the news reverberates for hours among the ritzy clientele.
Before taking the stage where she found her death, Crystal was last
seen boarding an unmarked helicopter for a late-night flight to an
unknown destination.
The money
The stakes are high at
the roulette table, and the players are hot-blooded. Among them, a
stone-cold killer watches, waits, and kills without leaving a single
trace of evidence. 
Rien ne va plus but death.
The game
The name of the game is
murder, and it doesn’t stop with Crystal’s demise. Anyone who
threatens to expose the killer’s identity will soon find they’re
being targeted.
In Las Vegas, secrets can kill. 
Two mavericks make an intriguing team. Baxter
and Holt trust each other with their lives, only not with their
darkest secrets. 
**Only .99 cents!!**
 
 casino girl teaser
.
Leslie Wolfe is a bestselling author whose novels break the mold of
traditional thrillers. She creates unforgettable, brilliant, strong
women heroes who deliver fast-paced, satisfying suspense, backed up
by extensive background research in technology and psychology.
Leslie released the first novel, Executive, in October 2011. It was very well received, including
inquiries from Hollywood. Since then, Leslie published numerous novels and enjoyed
growing success and recognition in the marketplace. Among Leslie’s
most notable works,
The Watson Girl (2017) was recognized for offering a unique insight into the mind of
a serial killer and a rarely seen first person account of his
actions, in a dramatic and intense procedural thriller.
A complete list of Leslie’s titles is available at
http://wolfenovels.com/order.
Leslie enjoys engaging with readers every day and would love to hear from you.
 
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!
 
 

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Dog Duty

by Bobby D. Lux

22881938

Genre: Crime / Mystery

c8df8-add2bto2bgoodreads2bblack

My Review

A cop is forced into retirement. His last case left open and haunting him. They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Fritz will show you different.

Such a fun story and told from a dog’s point of view. Fritz is a police dog. He’s seen a lot. Taken down some nasty criminals. But an injury while on the job forces him into retirement, his last case left open. He’s determined to close the case and enlists some eager canines to sniff out leads.

I loved Fritz right out of the gate. So brave and dedicated and he just wants to keep doing his duty. I felt so sad for him when he was forced to retire. But the story shifts quickly as he goes on the hunt to track down the nasty rottweiler that injured him and helped a villain escape. Calling all dogs. It’s time to do your duty.

This book was a blast. I got so caught up in Fritz and the other character’s that I almost forgot they were dogs. The investigation leads them on a merry chase and I happily scampered along with them.

If you’re a dog lover and enjoy a good mystery, this is one for you. Don’t forget to hug your dog. He’s always on duty.

4 Stars

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Synopsis

Dog Duty is the debut novel from Bobby D. Lux. It tells the tale (or “tail”) of Fritz, a German Shepherd who was once the top dog of the Grand City Police Department . . . literally. There’s police dogs and then there’s Fritz. A true dog’s dog. A dog neither afraid nor jaded by the streets he patrols and the criminals he chases.

But all that changes in a moment. On another routine late-night foot pursuit, Fritz is confronted by Clay, an ex-military Rottweiler custom built with one-syllable efficiency. Bite. Maim. Kill.

Fritz’ injuries force him into a retirement of backyard boredom surrounded by suburbanite hounds of all shapes and sizes. That won’t do for a dog like Fritz. There’s a reason why you don’t see retired K-9 dogs laying around.

Fritz narrates his quest for revenge and redemption in this adventure that takes him through the seedy canine underworld of cat-races, underground clubs, back alleys, and dog parks. Along the way, he encounters criminals of all breeds, derelict mutts, beauty queens, and a hotshot young K-9 hungry for publicity. At the end of that road is where Fritz will find Clay. That’s the only way Fritz will ever get his life back.

Amazon

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This counts towards my They Call It Puppy Love Challenge.

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 .
.
Vanished?
By Christer Tholin
Genre: Mystery Crime Thriller
 
He could only hope he’d get out of here in one piece.”

To come to terms with his recent divorce, Martin, an attorney in Berlin,
plans a peaceful vacation – two weeks in a Swedish summer house
seem to be the solution. It won’t be peaceful, however, and those
two weeks will change his life forever. He takes a liking to Liv, a
Swedish woman whom he meets in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, they
don’t get to have their first date – Liv disappears under
mysterious circumstances. Martin begins his search but soon realizes
he can’t find Liv in a foreign country by himself. He hires two
private investigators, and their discoveries make everything seem
even stranger.
The complexities in this suspenseful criminal case lead to a hunt across
Sweden. Martin comes close to finding answers, but his search lands
him in very real danger, eventually leading to the first deaths. Soon
he‘s wondering if he can get Liv and himself out of this situation
alive.
 
 
The author grew up in the North of Germany, Schleswig-Holstein. Today, he
lives together with his family in Stockholm, Sweden, where he works
as management consultant.


Already for ages he has been a great fan of crime stories and therefore, had
the desire to write his own crime story with the characters acting in
Sweden. This crime-fiction is now available under the title
“Vanished?”.
The crime novel starts at a slower pace – like Martin’s holidays, but the
tension goes up more and more. It comes to a number of surprising
turns giving new impulses to the story. Apart from that, the lovely
country Sweden is described with the view of a foreigner.
 
 
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts and a giveaway!
 

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Partners In Crime Tours

Genre: Suspense, Thriller, Crime
Published by: Jill Amy Rosenblatt
Publication Date: November 28, 2016
Number of Pages: 348
ISBN: 1539839443 (ISBN13: 9781539839446)
Series: Fixer – Katerina Mills Series

http://www.partnersincrimetours.net/pict/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/32791422.jpg

My Review

Being into character driven plots, boy did I get some interesting ones in this book. And the funny thing is, none of them are what you would classify as good guys. Well, maybe the cop is, but not the others, not even Katerina. Strong characterization by the author made them quite likeable.

Kat’s got her hands full trying to attend college and keep up with the demands of her assignments from MJM. Stubborn and independent, she has no choice but to seek assistance, and beggars can’t be choosers. Most of them aren’t what you would call good guys either. But they’ll do in a pinch if Kat wants to come out of this alive.

I haven’t read the first book, The Naked Man, and wish I had before starting this one. The author did clue me in on past events but I stumbled a bit and had to fill in some blanks myself.

One of those blanks was how Kat got into a job like a fixer. She’s just a young woman going to college and her assignments as a fixer usually fall on the other side of legal. And I’d like to know more about how she met Alex Winter. also known as Bob. a professional thief. They sure have chemistry when they’re together and I’m hoping the next book gives them a chance to explore that.

I still had quite the adventure and several nail biting moments of suspense. Rosenblatt is a new author for me and there are some writers who don’t blink about knocking off their characters. Hence the nail biting.

While some assignments get wrapped up in the end, there’s still a lot going on and you’re in for a bit of a cliff hanger. I didn’t mind as I plan to grab the first book and get caught up while waiting for the third one to come out. I’m glad for the chance to read this story but would recommend you read them in order.

4 Stars

~~~~~

Synopsis

Kat’s back and in over her head with crooks, cops… and killers.

Christmas is around the corner but professional “fixer” Katerina Mills isn’t feeling the holiday spirit, juggling college classes, a lovesick cop, and demanding clients.

Obnoxious hedge fund manager Simon Marcus wants his prized Porsche back from his vengeful wife. The job is hard enough until wise guy Anthony DeSucci shows up and orders her to bring the car to him.

Rock star writer, Paul Patel needs something “special” to finish his next bestseller, something that will get Katerina a “Go Straight to Jail” card if she gets caught.

And what about mysterious Thomas Gallagher? His jobs are simple and easy. Is he just a bored billionaire, or is he watching Kat’s every move, making his own plans for her?

As the jobs heat up, handsome, elusive thief Alexander Winter re-enters Kat’s life to tutor her in all things criminal. But can she trust him?

Katerina Mills is still haunted by her first assignment…and her first assignment is about to come back to haunt her…a deadly enemy who’s closer than she thinks…

Amazon / B&N / Goodreads

~~~~~

Enjoy the excerpt

“Again?” Katerina asked as a whipping wind whistled around the parked car. “This is the fourth time.”

“There’s been a delay,” Jasmine said.

A few weeks earlier, Jasmine, MJM Consulting’s “Iron Maiden” gatekeeper, had called late at night. Thomas Gallagher, one of New York’s billionaire one percent, needed an assistant. Except he probably didn’t. Katerina Mills had already learned the first rule of a fixer. The job is never the job.

“Does he want a consultant or not?” Kat asked, her mouth overruling her mind. Careful Katerina. Don’t antagonize. You have to stay in. It’s too dangerous to be on the outside on your own. Not after the last assignment…

“Yes,” Jasmine said. “Any other questions?”

Katerina answered by clicking off the cell phone. Burrowing deeper into her coat, the heavy bangs of her short blond wig brushed her eyebrows as she focused on the apartment building diagonally across the street.

“Bad news?” came a voice behind her.

Katerina didn’t bother turning around. On the floor of the backseat, her current client, Lester Callahan, rearranged himself, kicking the back of Kat’s seat. She sighed.

“I hear you,” Lester said. “It’s tough. People are no good, you know? They give their word, it don’t mean shit.”

Katerina assumed Lester spoke from experience.

A pretty woman, swathed in a fur coat, exited the building and hustled to the corner, her hand in the air to hail a cab.

“Is that her?” Kat asked.

Rustling from the back seat. “Nope.”

Katerina crushed herself further into her coat. She didn’t want the work but she had to keep her hand in this world, to protect herself. And I need the money. But instead of a steady windfall of cash, the jobs had been few and far between. Lester needed an item retrieved; but she didn’t know what the item was. From his babbled tale of rambling half-truths, Kat pieced together a picture: Lester had dangerous connections, something had gone wrong, and he needed to disappear. He was about to board a Greyhound bus when he realized he had forgotten something.

“You know it’s not easy to get lost.”

“So you said,” Kat answered.

“Yeah, people don’t understand how big their digital footprint is, you know? Take you for instance. You’re a young girl. You on social media?”

“No.”

“Dating sites? Not that you need one.”

“No.”

Lester shifted again; Kat’s seat lurched forward. She sighed.

“You’re smart, you know. There’s a lot involved. I hired a professional to help me. Rebel One.”

“Yup,” Kat said, glossing over the sound of Lester’s voice. Am I smart or did it just work out that way? she thought, reflecting on her training by her first boss, shady lawyer and ex-lover, Philip Castle. Stay away from the computer unless it can’t be helped. Never leave a trail. Katerina realized Lester was still talking.

“It’s a stupid name but I didn’t say that. I didn’t want to hurt the kid’s feelings. Anyway, Rebel One can make you disappear. You don’t realize you do a thousand things every day and leave clues how to find you: the phone, the credit card, the bank account, your magazine subscription to Cosmo… everything.”

“I don’t read Cosmo.” My college transcript. My library card. Could I get away clean if I needed to?

They sat in silence.

“You have a family?” Kat asked.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? And you’re just taking off?”

“It’s okay, I made arrangements, you know? I left some cash, told the wife we’d get a condo when I got settled.”

“Is that what you told your girlfriend?” Kat mumbled.

“I’m sensing judgment coming from the front seat. I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.”

“Sorry,” Kat said.

As they fell back into silence, Kat’s thoughts turned to her father, William Mills. She had plenty of judgment for him. After walking out on her mother weeks earlier and breezing through the Big Apple with his new bimbo, where was he now? Had he left a digital footprint? Could he be found?

Her father wasn’t the only one to pull a Houdini. Where was Lisa, who had brought Kat into this life as a “fixer”? Where had she vanished to? And then there was Alexander Winter. If it hadn’t been for him…

She relived the robbery in her mind; Winter taking her by the hand, leading her through the break-in to retrieve the client’s requested item. He had schooled her, protected her, and brought her home safe. Kat realized that not a day passed without her thinking of him. Except for a post-robbery “all clear” text, he had disappeared. Where is he now?

A young woman, rock star groupie attractive, wearing leopard Ugg boots and a winter-white fur coat over black pants exited the apartment building.

“Is that her?” Kat asked.

Rustling from the back seat. “Yeah, yeah, that’s her.”

Katerina shook her head. This anemic, two-bit hustler is hooked up with the jailbait leaving the building. “Let me guess. You bonded over shared interests.”

“You know, sarcasm is not attractive in a woman. It shows a lack of self-esteem.”

Said the man hiding on the floor of the back seat. “Uh-huh.”

“You got the code, the key, and the phone, right?”

“Yes,” Kat said, her heart racing like she was on the track waiting for the flag to come down. She slipped on her sunglasses, fussed over the wig hiding her long, chestnut-colored hair, and shrugged a large black bag onto her shoulder.

“Call me as soon as you’re in the apartment,” Lester said.

Katerina cracked the car door, checking for oncoming traffic. Getting out, she slammed the door and crossed the street. Punching the numbers on the keypad, she slipped into the building.

Remember, keep your head down. There are cameras everywhere. She made a mental note to change out her coat afterwards. The elevator chimed, the doors opened, and Kat ducked inside.

***

Getting out on the fifth floor, Kat stole down the hall. Apartment 512. She slipped the key out of her coat pocket, letting herself in. Taking the phone from the bag, she punched in the number. After two rings, Lester picked up.

“I’m here,” Kat said. “What am I getting?”

“Go into the bedroom,” he said.

Kat entered a room drowning in feminine pinks. “Okay, what?”

“You don’t see it?”

“Obviously not,” she said. “Is it a bill, a laptop, a deed to the apartment?”

“Go back into the living room.”

Katerina retraced her steps and froze in her tracks. A West Highland white terrier stared at her, its head cocked to one side.

Don’t bark. For the love of God and all that’s holy, do not bark.

“You didn’t tell me there was a dog in the apartment,” she whispered. What I wouldn’t give for a Snausage right now.

“Okay, good. You got it.”

“I wouldn’t say that—wait … what? I’m here for the dog? You’re leaving—and you want the dog?”

“No, no,” Lester said. “The dog has a microchip in it. I need the chip.”

“Why?”

“Because if the dog is scanned, the chip has my information. They’ll find my wife and then, you know—they find me. Digital footprint.”

Katerina blew out a mouthful of air. Still staring, the dog sat down.

“The chip is implanted by the right shoulder blade,” he said. “It’s the size of a grain of rice. It’s nothing to take it out.”

“I left my veterinary degree in my other purse.” Moron. “And what do you suggest I use for a scalpel, a Ginsu knife?”

“If you think that’s best. I’m not really attached to the animal. I don’t think she is either, truthfully. I mean, look, she doesn’t even take it with her when she goes out. I paid a shitload of money for that thing.”

Katerina clamped her eyes shut.

“I was told you agency girls are up for anything. Anything. I need the chip. Get the chip.”

Katerina clicked off the phone. She stared at the dog. It raised a paw as a greeting, then lay down on its back, baring its belly for a scratch.

Unbelievable.

***

Katerina hustled into the car, depositing the bag on the passenger seat. She revved the engine and took off.

“Did you get it?” Lester asked.

“Yup,” Katerina answered.

***

Katerina dropped Lester Callahan off at the Greyhound bus terminal. Then, she parked the car and sent a text.

Done. W. 42nd. 8th Ave. Thanks

She got out of the car and walked away. The text had gone to Luther, an entrepreneur with his own limousine service. Luther’s clients paid in cash. Luther saw nothing, heard nothing, and asked no questions. Luther had a lot of clients. He had gotten the car through Moose, a man Katerina had yet to meet. The car would disappear and turn up somewhere else: different state, different plates, different color. Five thousand of Kat’s take had already gone for payment for the service. Contacts liked to be paid up front. That was a problem; she didn’t get paid until the job was done.

Kat passed the Plaza and entered an elegant, gleaming office building. A few minutes later, she was standing in the empty, dark paneled anteroom of MJM Consultants.

“Come in, Katerina,” she heard Jasmine’s hard-edged voice call out.

With her bag slung over her shoulder, Kat entered the small, immaculate office. Jasmine, wearing her signature black Chanel and pearl teardrop earrings, glanced up from her laptop; she didn’t bat an eye at the wig on Kat’s head.

“The job is finished,” Kat said.

“The client called.”

I know. I was there. Right before he got on a bus.

“And then he called back again.”

Shit.

“You never showed him the item he wanted retrieved.”

Katerina caught the hint of a smirk on Jasmine’s lips. Is this part of the ‘probation’ test? You are not cheating me out of my money. Think fast, Katerina.

“The client never said he wanted to see the item. He just said retrieve it. I retrieved it.”

Jasmine was about to speak when Kat’s bag moved, a sliver of fur peeking through the top. The smirk vanished. “Is that a dog in that bag?”

“You’re not a pet person?” Katerina asked.

“Is that the item?”

“It’s the item that contains the item.”

Opening a desk drawer, Jasmine removed two rubber banded packets of bills. She held them out to Katerina. “Get it out of here.”

Katerina took the money, turned on her heel, and left.

Stepping out of the building into the bright, chilly day, she placed a call.

“Whatever it is, it’s gonna cost you a lot of money,” the raspy voice said through the line.

“Morning, Doc. I need something removed,” Kat said. “But the patient isn’t human.”

The raspy voice broke out into a low gutteral laugh.

***

Katerina watched over the sleeping Westie. A clean-cut man, wearing surgical gloves and a gown, used a feather touch to perform the procedure. He held up the forceps, showing Kat the tiny chip. Moving to the microwave on the counter, he placed the chip inside, closed the door, and hit a few buttons. Kat watched the plate rotate. A few sparks later, the chip was cooked.

Kat turned to Doc, perched on a stool, his frame struggling under the weight of his bulging stomach. Between wheezes, he puffed on a cigarette.

“Thanks, Doc,” she said.

“Don’t bother. You still have to pay me.”

Kat nodded. At least he’s honest. This little act of benevolent kindness is about to take another healthy bite of my take-home pay.

A woman entered the room without knocking. Dressed to the nines, she looked to be in her late sixties, a cross between a gracefully aging Audrey Hepburn and Jackie O., complete with swing coat and pillbox hat.

“Miss Kitty, this is Gertie. She provides pet relocation.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Gertie said with a flourish of her hand. “Now darling, time is money. You want a major city or you prefer something rural?”

Thousands of criminals in the city and I get the Dolly Levi of pet theft.

“What do you have?”

“Oh, honey, it’s carte blanche. I always have a waiting list for Westies; very popular breed. Lucky you came along. People are so careful these days. Owners almost never leave them unattended.”

“You steal to order?”

Gertie’s eyes opened wide. “Steal? I beg your pardon,” she said. “Darling, I connect pets with loving families. I provide a service. You think Social Security pays enough to live on? A girl’s gotta get by. I used to be in the garment business—before they moved everything to China—no disrespect.” She gave Kat the once-over. “I can get you a coat at cost. You’d look to die for in a Saint Laurent Chesterfield. You want a coat?”

Kat shook her head. “No thank you. Any location far away from here will be fine.” She wanted to apologize. It wasn’t judgment. Kat didn’t know why, but she never quite felt prepared for the world she found. Even after what she had seen so far, she could be surprised. Maybe I’m not up for anything. Maybe I just don’t have what it takes.

The man finished scrubbing at the sink. Drying his hands, he turned to Kat.

“How long have you been a veterinarian?” Kat asked.

The man smiled.

Oh shit. Kat turned to Gertie.

“Meet my nephew,” she said.

The family that steals together… that’s one my father missed.

“Still lots to learn, Miss Kitty,” Doc said. “Lots to learn.”

Katerina glanced over at the sleeping dog. Pulling out the packets of money, she counted out fifteen thousand, half of her cut.

A girl’s gotta get by.

She certainly does, Kat thought, watching Gertie and Doc divvy up the cash. And not for the first time, she wondered how she would get by.

~~~~~

Author Jill Amy Rosenblatt

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Jill Amy Rosenblatt is the author of Project Jennifer and For Better or Worse, published by Kensington Press. She has a Masters Degree in Creative Writing and Literature from Burlington College.

“The Fixer” mystery/suspense series is Jill’s first adventure in self-publishing. The Fixer: The Naked Man (Katerina Mills, Book 1) is available in e-book and paperback formats. The second book in the series, The Fixer: The Killing Kind, released on November 28, 2016. She is currently at work on the third book of the series, The Fixer: The Last Romanov (when she’s not watching NY Rangers hockey).

She lives on Long Island.

Find Jill Amy Rosenblatt: Website / Twitter / Facebook

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I have a scary good short story to share with you today.

Beneath, an Edritch City Short, by Robin Heggelund Hansen.

Come on in and enjoy my review.

There’s a glimpse inside the book.

Check out the awesome graphic cover art.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

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Beneath

Eldritch City Shorts

Book 1

Robin Heggelund Hansen

 

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Genre: Crime/Horror

Date of Publication: March 21st, 2015

ASIN: B00V0R5QYW

Number of pages: 15 / Word Count: 5100

 

My Review

This was a really quick read but so much fun.

I’m always amazed when a short story has so much going on.

The city of Eldritch has an atmosphere about it. Like a pall that is felt strongly by newcomers while residents have become accustomed to it. It sticks to you like humidity on a hot sultry day.

A stranger enters the police station, exhibiting all of the signs of the Eldritch City air. He looks uncomfortable in his own skin.  Deputy Swanson came from the Heartbrook Sheriff’s Office to see the officer who handled an old murder case.

 The case involves the murders of Mr. Phillips and his daughter nine years ago. The suspect list is small. Just the surviving wife and young son. But the deaths were so bizarre. The corpses looked like they’d been chewed on and the case remained open.

The widows account of a strange creature bursting from the ground and killing her family leaves the investigating officer skeptical but the case haunts him.

I was skeptical myself as to whether there really was a monster. But then how do you explain the signs of chewing? And that the wife and son told the same story?

A new light is shone on the old case when the widow, released after nine years in a sanitarium, commits suicide and her son, the other survivor, disappears after having visited her.

The two officers return to the crime scene and that’s where the truth reveals itself.

Of course they venture out there at night. It wouldn’t be right if they went out there during the day.

I liked how the author gave the town an oppressing atmosphere. It lent to the  eeriness of the events and built on the suspense.

Character development was good too. Even with the main character and narrator never revealing his name, I could almost picture what he looked like and while I didn’t hear from some of the others, their stories made them come to life.

There is another short story in this series and more to come. If I’m not mistaken, they are all stand alone and can be read in any order. Not sure, but that’s how it sounds to me. I’d like to read all of them.

The plot is somewhat predictable and not super scary, but I love these types of stories and my imagination ran wild. Another thing, the cover art graphics are awesome.

4 Stars

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Book Description:

 

Nine years have passed since the tragic and mysterious deaths of Mr. Phillips and his daughter.

A new clue surfaces, one which the lead investigator will follow to the brink of insanity.

Available at Amazon

 

Excerpt:

 

To whoever reads this: I feel that I must apologize if what you find on these pieces of paper appears to be nothing more than a collection of near-indecipherable words. I can assure you that I have tried everything I can think of, and yet I cannot keep my hands from trembling. This, however, is only a symptom of my much greater problems.

I cannot eat, or sleep, or even close my eyes for longer than the briefest of moments. I feel as if I’m about to lose my mind, but I’m clear enough to realize that I have to get this story off my chest, before it consumes whatever sanity I have left. Unfortunately, the only recipient I can trust with a story as bizarre and horrible as this are the same pieces of paper upon which these words are written.

For officers of the Eldritch City Police Department, no two days are alike. Even with this in mind, yesterday morning would still single itself out as peculiar. As I entered the precinct to begin my shift, I met a man who I realized was from out of town. It was clear that he was uncomfortable since he was constantly scratching his arm and shifting his gaze. It was as if he was trying to view the entire room at once.

There are many things that can be said of Eldritch City, but the one thing people always remember is the air. It’s not that it has a particular smell, but it has a way of sticking to your skin, like wet clothes on a rainy day. Us locals usually say that it is due to the humidity that comes with being in a warm coastal city, but humid air does not leave you with a feeling of being watched, or that something terrible is about to happen. Given time, one learns to hide this discomfort. People from out of town, however, usually haven’t learnt the knack.

The man introduced himself as Deputy Swanson of the Heartbrook Sheriff’s office. Upon learning my name, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “It would seem I am in luck,” he said. “It is in fact you that I have come here to see.”

Before continuing the conversation, I invited Swanson back to my desk — I have yet to earn my own office — and offered him a choice of coffee or tea, of which he chose the latter. When we were both sitting comfortably, I asked what had brought him all the way here from Heartbrook. To this he responded by handing me a newspaper article, dating back nine years. The article was an interview with a younger me regarding a murder case out by Mirkwood. I knew the article well, not just because I was the subject of the interview, but also because the case in question had been troubling me ever since I had been assigned to it.

Nine years earlier, for their summer-break, the Phillips family had gone out to their newly built cabin in Mirkwood, on the outskirts of the city. Only a day into their vacation, Mr. Phillips and his daughter, Julia, were brutally murdered. Their bodies had been mutilated to the point of being barely recognizable — large portions of flesh were missing. It was almost as if something had fed on them. The coroner couldn’t rule out an animal attack, but thought it unlikely since the wounds were inconsistent with the bite of any species known to be living in Mirkwood.

About the Author:

Robin Heggelund Hansen

 

Robin was born on a cold winter night in Oslo, Norway, 1989. Growing up, he was always fond of telling stories, leading people to wonder when, not if, he would move on to writing stories of his own. Inspired by the works of H.P. Lovecraft, he wrote his first short story, ‘Beneath’, in 2015.

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