Posts Tagged ‘excerpt’

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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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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for On The Threshold organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author M. Laszlo will award a $25 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.

On The Threshold

by M. Laszlo

 

 

Genre: Historical Science Fiction

Synopsis

Obsessed with learning the origins of the cosmos, the actual meaning of life, and the true purpose of civilization, a fine Scotsman named Fingal T. Smyth dedicates himself to the study of Plato’s most extraordinary ideas. Convinced of Plato’s belief that humankind possesses any and all innate knowledge deep within the collective unconscious mind, Fingal soon conducts a series of bold, pioneering occult-science experiments by which to resolve the riddle of the universe once and for all. However, Fingal forgets how violent and perilous the animal impulses that reside in the deepest recesses of the unconscious mind. And when Fingal unleashes a mysterious avatar of his innate knowledge, the entity appears as a burning man and immediately seeks to manipulate innocent and unsuspecting people everywhere into immolating themselves. Now, with little hope of returning the fiery figure into his being, Fingal must capture his nemesis before it destroys the world.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Fräulein Wunderwaffe did not return the smile. Hand on heart, the little girl drew a bit closer. Then, as the hot, animalistic presence undulated all across Fingal’s body, the little girl’s eyes grew wide. Until the little girl’s expression turned to that of a vacant stare.

 

A moment later, her feet pointed inwards, she removed her hat and undid her long, flaxen hair.

 

Again, he cringed. “If you’ve noticed something, ignore all. This hasn’t got anything to do with you.” A third time, he cringed.

 

A most ethereal, lyrical, incomprehensible hiss commenced then: from the other end of the winding, decorative-brick driveway, each clay block shining the color of blue Welsh stone, a sleek Siamese cat with a coat of chocolate-spotted ivory had just appeared. And now the creature raced toward his shadow.

 

As he looked into the animal’s big, searching, blue eyes, the chocolate Siamese studied the off-center tip of his nose. Then the animal turned away, as if to compare the peculiarity with that of some disembodied visage hovering in the distance.

 

Out upon the loch, meanwhile, a miraculous rogue wave suddenly arose—and now the swell crashed against the pebbly strand.

 

Not a moment later, a cool flame crawled across Fingal’s throat. The strange fire rattled, too—not unlike the sound of fallen juniper leaves caught up in the current and dancing against the surface of a stone walkway.

 

Crivens. By now, the alien, pulsating presence held him so tight that he could barely breathe. Before long, he fell to the earth, and as the dreamlike flame continued to move across his throat, he rolled all about—until the illusory sensation of cool warmth wriggled and twisted and dropped into his neck dimple.

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About Author M. Laszlo

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M. Laszlo is an aging recluse who lives in Bath, Ohio. Rumor holds that his pseudonym is a reference to Victor Laszlo, a character in the classic film Casablanca. On the Threshold is his first release with the acclaimed, Australian hybrid house AIA Publishing. Oddly, M. Laszlo insists that his latest work, On the Threshold, does in fact provide the correct answer to the riddle of the universe.

 

Buy Link

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Mrs. Morris and the Mermaid (A Salem B&B Mystery)
by Traci Wilton

 


Mrs. Morris and the Mermaid (A Salem B&B Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
8th in Series
Setting – Massachusetts
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Kensington Cozies (February 20, 2024)
Mass Market Paperback ‏ : ‎ 368 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1496741390
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1496741394
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0C6FV91ML

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Set in Salem, Massachusetts, this fun, cozy series sees a widowed B&B owner teaming up with a charming ghost to solve murders—an engaging read for fans who like a paranormal tinge to their mysteries.

Charlene and her handsome spectral friend, Dr. Jack Strathmore, are thrilled that their Salem, Massachusetts, B&B is overflowing with mermaids in advance of the town’s newest attraction—a mermaid parade! Retired Hollywood actress Trinity Powers has even agreed to appear on the lead float to commemorate her breakout role as the eponymous mermaid in the blockbuster cult classic, Sirena. The parade also features Trinity’s rival, an up-and-coming ingénue, who stars in the film’s recent (and somewhat controversial) reboot. Though their rabid fan clubs seem ready to tear each other—and the festivities—apart, the vying actresses are keeping it cool, for now . . .

But when Charlene discovers a mermaid murdered, she realizes a killer is out to steal the show. With the help of Jack and Detective Sam Holden, Charlene plunges into the case, determined to stop a killer from striking again . . .

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Charlene stepped into the dining room and clasped her hands together. Her guests were in varying stages of preparation for the big day and the kids, even Dillon, brimming with excitement.

“Great costumes.” She could see why the twins had won in prior contests because of the intricate beadwork.

Aqua and Jewel were in blue and green bodices and tails. Aqua’s hair had been dyed blue to match and Jewel’s was dyed green. The tails had been propped against the wall to keep them clean as the twins finished breakfast.

“Thank you!” Natalie was finishing some eggs and toast, with coffee and juice. “I’ll get dressed when I’m done here. Linc has to help me with the coconut shells.”

Linc, his bare chest painted blue, winked. “My pleasure.”

Barb and Andrew were in street clothes as they ate. “I have a new clam shell top that I bought to wear with a skirt that ripples like water.”

“It’ll be really pretty,” Andrew said. “But let’s get Natalie’s email and maybe we can buy you a custom tail for next year.”

“That would be nice!” Barb said. “How much are they?”

Linc sipped coffee. “Anywhere from five hundred to ten thousand. Check out Tida Wave’s Creations.”

Charlene swallowed her surprise. That seemed expensive, but Natalie’s work was first-rate. That explained how they could afford to travel.

Andrew didn’t blink at the cost. “Thanks. We will.”

Natalie shifted toward Charlene. “Registration starts at ten, right?”

“Yes.” Charlene bestowed an encouraging smile at each of them, her keys to the Pilot in her palm. “I’ll see you there, so make sure to say hello.” Brandy had rented metal stands for observers though people were welcome to bring their own chairs to watch from the sidewalks or their lawns. “Parade begins at noon. There will be food trucks all day. The King and Queen Neptune will be announced at six. At eight we’ll start Sirena to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the movie at the Common.”

Natalie gestured to Charlene’s shirt. “Is that the T-shirt for registration? It’s very cool. Too bad there wasn’t one with Alannah Gomez on it. The new Sirena.”

Charlene hadn’t realized this would be such a point of contention but after hearing Andrew and Natalie discuss it on Friday, she and Jack had looked up the feud online. Fans were vicious in their defense of their chosen mermaid. Trinity fans claimed that Alannah needed support from her other actors because she wasn’t as graceful in the water, and Alannah fans said that Trinity was boring.

“Trinity is classic,” Andrew said. His tone today wasn’t as friendly as it had been on Friday. She wondered if it had anything to do with the party at Ariel Glitter’s house last night. Jack had told her that the Martins had come in after midnight.

The Bonets wore T-shirts with Darryl Hannah from Splash on the front—nice, neutral ground at the dining table. The Sanchos brothers had on tight silver T-shirts that would be paired with their tails later but for now, wore jeans. Dean was older by a few years than Steve.

“We are Team Alannah too,” Lottie said. “Dillon knows all the songs.”

Dillon, hair dyed dark blue, wore a navy shirt and shorts with painted scales. His parents were in matching shimmering shirts—jeans for Terry, but Lottie wore a skirt.

“I heard there might be trouble at the parade,” Dean Sanchos said to Charlene.

“What kind of trouble?” Charlene hid her dismay behind a cool façade. She hoped to nip the problem in the bud.

Steve plonked his elbow next to his plate with a sigh. “At Ariel Glitter’s party, there was talk of a possible showdown. Trinity’s people want Alannah to apologize in person for all that she’s said.”

“What?” Terry asked, confused. “We don’t know anything about that.”

Andrew slammed his coffee cup onto the table. “Team Trinity will defend their queen.”

“When?” Charlene asked. She’d need to tell Brandy.

Barb waved her hand. “That was just a bunch of people blowing off steam after too much beer. Ariel probably won’t remember anyway. Nothing will happen.”

“Don’t know a time.” Dean glanced around the table. “Me and Steve want a chance at the prize money for the best costume. We created an animated Triton. It’d be cool to meet Trinity, but we don’t care about fighting.”

Charlene cleared her throat to get their attention. “I declare this B and B Switzerland.”

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About Traci Wilton

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From cozy mysteries to seaside romance, USA Today bestselling author Traci Hall writes stories that captivate her readers. As a hybrid author with over sixty published works, Ms. Hall has a favorite tale for everyone. Mystery lovers, check out her Scottish Shire series, set in the seaside town of Nairn, or the Salem B&B Mystery series, as Traci Wilton. Her latest project is an Irish Castle cozy as Ellie Brannigan. Whether it’s her ever-popular By the Sea romances, an Appletree Cove sweet romance, or a fun who-done-it, Traci finds her inspiration in sunny South Florida, living right near the ocean.

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Author Links: Website / Twitter / Amazon / Instagram / Kensington

Facebook / Facebook / Facebook

Purchase Links – Amazon – Kindle  – Amazon – Paperback –  B&N – KoboBookshop.org

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TOUR PARTICIPANTS

February 20 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW

February 20 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

February 21 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

February 21 – Hearts & Scribbles – SPOTLIGHT

February 21 – fundinmental – SPOTLIGHT

February 22 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT

February 22 – Read Your Writes Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

February 23 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT

February 24 – Celticlady’s Reviews – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

February 24 – MJB Reviews – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

February 25 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

February 25 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

February 26 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee – SPOTLIGHT

February 26 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT

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Playing Dead
by TG Wolff

 

 

February 19 – 23, 2024 Virtual Book Tour
Synopsis:

The nightmare is over. Alexander “Rotten” Carter is dead. But when his body is dumped in Cleveland Homicide Detective Jesus De La Cruz’s neighborhood, there are more questions than answers. Rotten was dressed up like the king of hearts, right down to the dagger in the suicide king’s temple. The elaborate staging is perplexing at the same time seems to be sending a message. As Cruz investigates, he discovers Rotten Carter was more complex than the simple villain he had painted him to be. So is his murder, which is related to the deaths of his two lieutenants months prior. Both were strangled and found, with playing cards in their mouths. Jacks. As the body count climbs, connection tie back to a dead CI and an accident that made a cop a widower. A web becomes apparent with one man in the middle: Narcotics Detective Matt Yablonski. But is he the spider or another fly?

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery

Published by: Down & Out Books Publication Date: February 2024 Number of Pages: 398

Series: The De La Cruz Case Files, Book 4

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Enjoy this peek inside:

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The crime scene was around the corner, no more than ten houses from Cruz’s own. Two streets came together at a sharp angle, creating oddly shaped yards. An island was formed at one of the peaks, surrounded by roadway. It was the length of one of the yards facing it. Geometric colors showed brightly in the morning sun, giving the landscape a third dimension it didn’t naturally have. Cruz approached, his mind transforming the lines and shapes into the macabre corpse. “I called 9-1-1 and, thankfully, no one else has come out,” Binnie, the girls’ father, said. He stood guard over the island in worn sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He was barefoot. “Aurora kept the girls. She’ll settle them down.” “Good. I didn’t want them to see this, not any more than they had.” Binnie turned until he and Cruz were side by side. “The island was part of the city’s Color the Corners Chalk Festival. It took the artist two days to do it.” That explained the background, a mosaic reminiscent of a stained-glass window, but not the character on it. Cruz thought Francie’s description of a costume was accurate. The victim, male, White, was in his twenties. The torso was covered by a tunic, the kind a knight might wear. Instead of regal, the tunic was decorated with hearts in groups of twos and threes, some facing up, others down. The costume was thin fabric. Details were printed on, not embroidered. The legs were dressed in a pair of tights, the red color coordinated with the tunic. The feet were bare. The arms were bare as well. One was bent at the elbow with the hand resting on the lower abdomen. The other was positioned upward. The hand curled around the hilt of a long dagger, the blade buried in the head. It was an unnatural position that forced the wrist, elbow, and shoulder out of a flat alignment. Cruz rounded to the base of the figure. He recognized it. “Someone made him into the king of hearts. Better get shoes on, Binnie,” he advised as vehicles began arriving at the scene. “This isn’t going to be quick.” “I’ll put some coffee on,” he said and headed to the house directly behind them. There was no estimate on when the man had died. His body temperature was lower than was naturally possible given the weather. The nighttime low bottomed out around fifty degrees. The body was low forties. The Cuyahoga County Medical Examiner would use methods more sophisticated than temperature to estimate time of death. A cursory review of the body found no cuts, wounds, or contusions aside from the knife in the head. The blade had been driven in above the left ear. The handle was wrapped in leather, the complicated over-under weave spoke of skill and craftsmanship. Cruz examined the round, silver ball at the end and found it to be slightly flattened and marred with scratches. Something about the position of the mouth drew Cruz’s attention. He applied pressure on the chin, opening the jaw. Inside was the white edge of folded paper. Widening the opening, he gently pulled. The folded item came easily. It wasn’t paper exactly. It was thicker. Coated. He turned it over, both sides printed in a blue elaborate pattern reminiscent of…a playing card. He unfolded it, revealing the king of hearts. Rising, he compared the body position to the card. It was a match. He pictured the man resting his head on a table. His killer standing over him, holding the dagger in position with one hand and using a hammer in the other to drive the point deep. There were no defensive signs. It was as if the man simply lay down and allowed the knife to be driven into his head. The ME would tell him if the man was incapacitated via drugs or other means. Wherever happened, it didn’t happen here. Beneath the body was the chalk of the drawing. The lines separating the colors were disturbed directly beneath but even that was minor. There was minimal transfer to the back of the clothing. The man was set in place, not dragged, which meant either multiple people were involved or one person strong enough to handle a body. The man was average to short with sinewy arms and legs. Cruz put him in the 160-pound camp. Ready to tackle the timetable, Cruz went up the short walk to where Binnie waited with a cup of coffee. “It’s nice and hot,” he said, holding out the insulated Cleveland Browns cup. Cruz went up one step to accept. “I appreciate it. Tell me what happened this morning.” “You know, Cruz, I can’t tell you much. I was dead asleep when Sunny screamed. You know how it is, one second out cold, then wide awake. I went to the front door. I could tell there was something on the island but not what it was.” He pointed to the screen now hiding the crime scene. “It didn’t make sense until I was nearly to the sidewalk. I told the girls to go get you and ran back in the house to get my phone. I didn’t even think about shoes. I called 9-1-1 and waited for you or them to arrive.” “What time was this?” Binnie pulled out his phone and searched for outgoing calls. “Eight minutes after seven. The sky was light but the street still dark. You know. You arrived just a few minutes later.” Cruz did know but wanted details to supplement his own observations. “What about cars on the street? Anyone leaving the area? Any vehicles that didn’t belong?” His witness thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Everything was quiet. I didn’t even see anyone walking their dog yet.” “I had someone go house-to-house. Anyone who was awake was in their kitchen or backyard. There was no answer next door. Any idea where your neighbor is?” “Metro General Hospital. He works first shift in the maintenance department. He left at twenty to seven. When he started his car, I woke enough to read the clock and decide it was too early to get up.” Binnie pointed to a pair of patrol officers waving their way. “I think they want you.” “We’re close to wrapping up here. Let me see what they need, then we’ll go to my house. I need to ask your daughters a few questions.” Cruz left the porch, turning his attention to the officers. “What do you have?” “The victim has been identified as Alexander Carter, age twenty-seven,” the leading officer answered. “His listed address is his parents’, but he’s spent a lot of time as a guest of the county. In and out for possession, assault, petty theft. He’s—Detective?” Cruz stalked to the protective tent. “Detective? Cruz?” The officer hurried to keep up. Cruz took a knee next to the dead man’s shoulder and studied the face. He’d seen it in pictures a dozen times, only twice in person. In every case, the eyes had been narrowed with hate, the chin tipped up in challenge. “Do you know this guy?” the officer asked. “Not just me. We’ve been after Rotten Carter since July. Send me the information on his next of kin. I’ll make the trip after we wrap here, and I follow up with the girls. Go back through the neighborhood, see if anyone here knows our vic.” The officers left the tent to execute orders while Cruz studied the man he daydreamed about killing. Without the attitude he wore like skin, Rotten Carter had a clean-cut look. He didn’t have ink tatted across his body or battle-earned scars saying the man fought his way through life. He could have been a family man with a white-collar job. He could have been an ordinary guy earning an honest living. But he wasn’t. Rotten Carter was a mid-level dealer who had been on Cleveland police’s radar for years. His sister, Natasha “Sasha” Carter was a confidential informant to Cruz’s best friend, Narcotics Detective Matt Yablonski. Sasha snitched with her brother’s permission or at least knowledge. She fed information on Rotten’s competition, keeping her brother’s territory solid. One day last January, Sasha got in touch with Yablonski and asked for a meetup. She didn’t follow their normal protocols, wanting Yablonski to come to her place. He arrived at the agreed upon time and found Sasha overdosing. Yablonski called for backup and began CPR. Rotten walked in and misread the situation. While Rotten and Yablonski fought, Sasha died. Rotten blamed Yablonski. He focused his energy and resources on finding the man who killed his sister. Bad luck or bad timing put Rotten in the same place at the same time as Yablonski, and Yablonski’s wife, Erin. Rotten saw his opportunity for revenge and took it. That night, Erin and Aurora were driving to a restaurant for a celebratory night out. Rain poured down, making the street dark and the road slick. There was no evidence Rotten Carter tracked Erin’s car through downtown Cleveland. There was no proof Rotten drove the car and instigated the crash. There were no witnesses to point to Rotten as the reason Erin Yablonski was dead and Aurora’s legs might never be the same. And yet there was no doubt. Alone in the tent with the corpse of the man he hated, Cruz felt empty. This didn’t fix a damn thing. And now, it would be his job to find the killer who had done him and the rest of the city a favor. Cruz didn’t want the job, but he wasn’t going to pass it on. He was going to use it to his advantage and prove Rotten Carter was behind the crash. Closure. That’s what he could give Aurora and Yablonski. *** Excerpt from Playing Dead by TG Wolff. Copyright 2024 by TG Wolff. Reproduced with permission from TG Wolff. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author TG Wolff:

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author

TG Wolff writes mysteries that play within the gray area between good and bad, right and wrong. She specializes in puzzles, giving you everything you need to solve the mystery. Diverse characters mirror the complexities of real life and real people, balanced with a healthy dose of entertainment. TG Wolff is the co-creator and co-host of Mysteries to Die For podcast. She holds a Master’s Degree in Civil Engineering and is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.

Catch Up With TG Wolff: TGWolff.com Goodreads BookBub – @TG_Wolff Instagram – @tg_wolff Twitter/X – @tg_wolff Facebook – @Mysteries2Die4

 

 

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for The Spinster, The Rebel, And The Governor organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

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

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

The Spinster, The Rebel, And The Governor

by Charlene Bell Deitz

 

 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Synopsis

Move over Susan B. Anthony. There’s an unsung woman asking for the vote 224 years before you, and murderous rebels and bigoted gentlemen can’t prevent spinster Lady Margaret Brent from wielding her power to defend Maryland settlers from plunder and obliteration.

Lady Margaret Brent, compelled to right wrongs, risks her life by illegally educating English women, placing her family at risk. She fights to have a voice, yet her father and brothers exclude her from discussions. Worried the kings’ men may know of her illegal activities, she flees to the New World where she can enjoy religious tolerance and own land, believing she will be allowed a voice. Once in Maryland, she presents cases in provincial court where she’s hired as the first American woman attorney, but there she uncovers perilous actions, prompting her to build a fort to shield those within from being murdered. Can Margaret Brent’s integrity and ingenuity protect Maryland from being destroyed?

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Their cousin Cecil, the second Lord Baltimore, addressed the men. “I’ve spoken of colonization before. You’ve listened politely, but your loyalties remain with your king and England. I understand, as do mine.”

“Then you’ve no need to speak more of this.” Edward said.

“But I do.” Cecil narrowed his eyes.

Richard said, “You forgot something rather important, my friend.”

Cecil hesitated.

“You must consider the king’s act that restrains the popishly bred from going beyond the seas and the punishments for those who assist.”

Giles looked up from the map. “Popish—the hell. King Charles can’t even bring himself to say Catholic.”

“Silly. Everyone but those of us who are says ‘popish.’” Margaret now waited for her father to reprimand her, but he said nothing.

“A serious point, my friend. Dangerous times, indeed,” said Cecil. “King Charles’s wrath increases and will come down on those who refuse to conform to the Church of England.”

Fulke shut his eyes a moment before saying, “You’re a kind gentleman, sir. But if you pursue this, you will certainly lose everything you and your father have acquired. Even your mentioning this to us puts you in jeopardy.”

“Every second of every day puts us all in jeopardy. Today and the weeks forward, your family may suffer destruction beyond your imagination.” He took several paces then stopped and studied each of the men. “Please, friends, decide to take my offer. It takes time and special negotiations to arrange a safe passage for you. Remember, a most disagreeable mood has overtaken England concerning passengers who refuse to take the oath of allegiance and acknowledge the king’s supremacy. We need to be clever so as not to be entrapped.”

A tap on the door stopped the conversation. Mary glanced at her father, then rose, and opened it.

Pursell stood waiting to be acknowledged.

“Yes?” said Richard.

“Sir, supper will be served within the hour, and also there’s a man at the back door. He’s asked to speak with you.”

 “Cecil, good friend, will you join us in a late supper?”

“It’s past time for me to be on my way to Ilmington. Please consider what we’ve discussed. I’ll send word where we may engage in a private meeting.”

“Pursell,” Richard said, “have Dary see Lord Calvert’s carriage and horse are brought forth.”

Lord Calvert strode to the table. He placed with great care what must have been his cherished map on top and slid the stack into a burgundy, embossed leather folio. Gathering his cape and hat and in good cheer, bowed his farewell.

Her father squinted at his servant. “Tell me, what brings this fellow to our door at this hour?”

“He says his name is John Coates, sir. It seems a young girl saw Lady Margaret talking with his son earlier this afternoon. His son has gone missing, and the sheriff has found a dead man.”

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About Author Charlene Bell Deitz:

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Charlene Bell Dietz lives in the central mountains of New Mexico. She taught kindergarten through high school, served as a school administrator, and an adjunct instructor for the College of Santa Fe. After retirement she traveled the United States providing instruction for school staff and administrators. Her writing includes published articles, children’s stories, short stories, and mystery and historical novels

 

Author Links: Email / Website / Twitter

Purchase Link

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Secrets Of A Gay Man Growing Up In The 1950s organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Jonathan Feinn will award a $25 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.

Secrets Of A Gay Man Growing Up In The 1950s

By Jonathan Feinn

 

 

Genre: Memoir

Synopsis

The Blessing of Self -Acceptance

 

I decided to write my memoir when I reached my mid-eighties. Given the gift of longevity, I felt a strong need to review my life openly and to recall both the joyful moments as well as the days and nights of feeling anguish and hopelessness. Highlighting events and experiences in my life has given me the opportunity to better understand the emotional and physical cost over the years of denying the person I am and the pain of self-rejection.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

My parents grew up in very different families. My paternal grandparents immigrated to America from the Ukraine when my father was only a year old. Grandma Sonia had been a victim during a pogrom and through the efforts of a cousin living in the United States, the family was able to come to America and settle in Chicago.

 

Neither of my grandparents spoke English but were fluent in Russian and Yiddish. They parented five sons one of whom had a very serious dysfluency and was thought to be retarded.  Given the lack of understanding and resources during his early childhood, he never received any specific help and suffered throughout his life from emotional problems. I don’t remember having much connection to him, but I was aware that Uncle Joe felt rejection from my father who was a lawyer and the youngest brother who was a doctor. I remember feeling, frightened as a young child when my father would yell at him. The oldest son was married and already had a son when I was born.

 

Three of the uncles lived in an apartment with my grandparents above ours in a two flat building. There was much tension between the brothers and throughout my childhood I have memories of yelling and screaming fights between the brothers. I felt somewhat closer to my uncle Jack who I remember sitting me on his lap when I was a young child and singing to me; ’Thai Thai tiddly tum’ I remember feeling safe with him.

 

Looking back, I realize my paternal grandparents were depressed. I never saw them affectionate with one another. Grandma Sonia had been raised in a family in Moscow with some financial means and had opportunities to be educated in the arts and dancing. My grandfather came from a religious but impoverished family in Odessa. Neither grandparent ever shared anything with me about their lives in Europe which saddens me. I realize how difficult and painful it would have been for them and of course, there was the language problem. From time to time when my parents were out for the evening my grandfather would be my ‘babysitter’. I was told when I grew older that one night when Grandpa Zelig was the sitter, my parents returned and found him fast asleep and snoring while I was up playing with my toys.

 

My parents spoke to my grandparents in Yiddish and as a child I wanted to understand what they were saying. Over time I began to develop a beginning understanding of Yiddish and knew a few expressions which I tried to speak to my grandfather.  He would always say ‘You American boy. NO speak Yiddish.’  In my adult years, I regret a missed opportunity to become a competent Yiddish speaker.

 

How difficult it must have been for my grandfather to support the family on a fish peddler’s income though the war years were hard financially for most people including my parents; my father did provide financial help to my grandparents in addition to supporting the four of us. Meanwhile grandmother Sonia Sarah had to adjust mealtimes to each of her son’s different schedules and preferences. She was very protective of her disabled son and on her death-bed begged family members to promise to care for him, Despite my uncle’s disability, he was able to work and live an independent life eventually getting married.

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About Author Jonathan

Jonathan holds a Ph.D. from the University of Illinois and was trained to serve both as a teacher and administrator providing guidance to staff and to children and adolescents with identified emotional disturbance and behavior disorders. He has served as a consultant to differing programs in both public and private school settings and was the director of a high school off-campus learning center serving students who required part-time placement outside the main building.

 

He has held faculty positions at National College in Evanston, Illinois and Shippensburg University in Pennsylvania where he taught students studying for both Master’s degrees and state certification. Prior to his retirement, he taught gifted elementary students in a ‘pull-out’ program. He is currently retired and continues his love of travel. To date he has visited 22 countries where he developed meaningful and lasting friendships with people in differing settings throughout the world.

 

Amazon

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Slashed Potatoes and Grave-y

by Joann Keder

 

(Honeypie Mysteries, #1)
Publication date: February 14th 2024
Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery

Honeypie Sweetwater’s life is a recipe for disaster—her culinary career in San Francisco is burnt to a crisp, her sterling reputation tossed out like last week’s leftovers, and now her home is slipping through her fingers like fine sand. Just as she’s about to surrender to fate, a ghost from the past delivers a bombshell—her beloved grandmother didn’t die; she was murdered. Clutching the deed to a quaint diner on the rugged coast, Honeypie whisks back to the salty sea air of her youth to unravel a mystery that’s been marinating for years. In a town bubbling with secrets, every friend could be a suspect, and every enemy, a clue. As the plot thickens and an enigmatic blast from the past steps out of the shadows, Honeypie must face a bitter truth: the most dangerous ingredients in this simmering scandal are her own buried secrets.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes& Noble / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“Ma’am?”

Honeypie Sweetwater stared out the window of her condo. The rain was coming down in sheets, which was fitting for her current financial situation. Unwillingly, she turned her head to face the stern woman sitting across the table from her.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Steam, I—”

“It’s SIStine, like the chapel? And I’m Ms.” She twitched her nose just like the old television show with the witch. Also fitting.

“This is your copy of the documents for the foreclosure on this property.”

“It’s my home. We’re not talking about a lemonade stand. I raised my son here and started a business—”

“And that failed too, didn’t it?”

Honeypie dug what was left of her fingernails into her palms, doing her level best not to lose her cool. “You just look at the numbers. You don’t have any idea what my life has been like, or what it took just to put food on the table for my kid some months.”

After a brief stare-down that Honeypie felt confident she’d won, the banker leaned back, causing the wobbly wooden chair to creak in protest. She flopped an arm over the back of the chair and stuck her tongue in her cheek before delivering the next blow.

“There is also the matter of your inheritance. The land and property in Washington State will also become our holdings after you sign the paperwork.” She shuffled through her papers containing a collection of colorful stickers. “I hear great things about the museum in Misty Cove.”

“The Chewseum? I didn’t realize that was still open. It’s a food museum. Kinda cheesy, get it?”

Ms. Sistine ignored H.P.’s attempt at humor and shoved the documents in front of her.

“Please sign on the lines I’ve highlighted.”

Her inheritance. Her childhood. Everything that made her the woman she was today.

 

 

About Author Joann Keder:

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USA TODAY bestselling author, Joann Keder spent most of her years in the Midwest, growing up and raising a family on the Great Plains of Nebraska. She worked for sixteen years as a piano teacher before returning to school to receive a master’s degree in creative writing. A mid-life move to the Pacific Northwest led her to re-examine her priorities. She now creates stories about life and relationships in small towns while her ever-patient husband encourages her on.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

 

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Seven Perfect Days

by Francesca Vespa

 

Publication date: February 17th 2024
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

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Sometimes your friends break your heart the most.

Maggie Lomax dodged the most painful moment of her life, but her eccentric best friend Alexandra isn’t going to let her get away that easy. High School might finally be over, but they still need to clean up the mess left behind.

Things look grim, until Maggie meets Adam Moon, a handsome foreign student and sweet, kind soul who’s just as messed up as her. The only problem is he disappeared, and nobody knows what happened to him.

An unusual offer from an old school acquaintance to travel abroad may be a chance for Maggie to move on. New sights, new sounds and new adventures may be just what she needs, but the past has a way of catching up with her, and so does Alexandra. Maggie may find her guy, but it could be at the worst possible time.

This contemporary romantic black comedy travels the world, hopping islands, traversing continents, sailing oceans. It tells a big tale from small intimate ones. The story is set on the sails of courage, flying a flag to joy and friendship, heartbreak and love.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

It was my cousin who did it.

Well, kind of.

I mean, he really did it, but he’s not really my cousin. He’s actually my father’s cousin’s daughter’s husband; Zayn. I also have two other cousins called Zain, but they had nothing to do with it. Probably.

I was over at my uncle’s house, and I snuck out for a smoke. Big house, big garden, big dinner party, so nobody noticed. That’s where I saw Zayn in the library with the gun. I only saw it for a moment before he wrapped it up. I thought if a guy like that had a gun, he was definitely going to use it for something later on.

He didn’t see me, thank goodness. I probably should have said something to somebody, but who would listen to me? I am the Devil, after all, and Satan is the father of lies. The only person who talked to me was my brother, and if I said anything to that idiot, he’d probably be dead now. So yeah, I got out of town, and went on vacation.

That’s why it annoys me that I get the blame. If they were planning this whole thing then, how can I be the cause of all the trouble now?

The point is that you may be right when you say life can go real nuts sometimes.

 

About Author Francesca Vespa:

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Francesca Vespa studied linguistics. She is neurodivergent, lives in South Australia with two incredible children, as well as cat named Simon and a dog named Diesel. Seven Perfect Days is her debut novel.

 

 

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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.

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

Author Dianne Hartsock will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Don’t forget to enter!

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

Alex

by Dianne Hartsock

 

 

 

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Synopsis

Alex is twenty and confused. He always is. The world presses on him with its horrors and pain, with scintillating auras that bewilder his eyes and drive the migraines deeper. He hears the cries of the children, sees the brutal images of tortured victims. He feels out of control and his mind slips…

Severely abused as a child, he is left with horrible scars on his body and even worse scars within his mind. Even though it puts him in danger, he’s compelled to help those who call to him. He’s driven, motivated by his visions to rescue them and hopefully uncover the killer. When he can, he helps the police; yet some detectives suspect he’s involved. Often, Alex finds himself alone and afraid in a world he doesn’t always understand.

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Enjoy this exclusive peek inside:

“Alex!”

Mary’s usually kind face looked impatient, and he jerked to his feet. From her tone, she’d probably been calling him for some time. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Sarah hasn’t come in yet, and Becca and I have our hands full with another shipment. Will you read to the children today?” At the look of panic probably on his face, she smiled encouragingly. “Now, don’t be afraid,” she said as she took his arm, giving it a motherly pat. “It’s only three chapters of Lone Wolf. When you’re done, you can let them have cookies.”

She guided him to the room where every Saturday afternoon during summer the bookstore hosted a reading for kids who had nothing better to do. Before Alex could draw a breath, she pushed him onto a stool and pressed a book into his hands. He gaped as she abandoned him in front of an audience of expectant children.  A dozen kids of various ages sat on a rug at his feet. He gave them a quick glance and then opened the book to the marked page.

The light radiating from the children hurt his eyes, and it took him a moment to focus on the print. The children stirred restlessly in the awkward silence until he cleared his throat. As he began to read, even Brian Edwards stopped hitting his neighbor to listen.

Alex’s voice grew low and intense as he immersed himself in the story. His tone became so expressive that the more sensitive children seemed able to see the action unfold behind their eyes, same as he could.

He reached the end of the second chapter safely and began to hope he might make it through the rest without mishap. He turned the page to continue, but then a shadow appeared on the paper. He rubbed his eyes, wanting it to be his imagination, but the shadow spread across the print. He struggled to ignore it for a few more sentences, but the growing darkness teased his eyes away from the page. He spotted the source instantly: a boy near the door whose black aura coiled tightly around his body.

The blackness seeped from the boy until it dimmed the brightness of the other children.

“Rabbit,” Alex whispered in horror, his eyes going wide. In his mind, he saw a rabbit tied to a board in a dark place, its paws bound with gray tape. A scalpel glittered in the boy’s trembling hand. With his gaze intent on the heaving chest of the helpless creature, the boy licked his lips in anticipation of doing something cruel.

Alex’s sharp whimper of distress broke the unnerving stillness in the room. He covered his face to wipe the disturbing image from his mind.

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About Author Dianne Hartsock:

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Dianne grew up in one of the older homes in the middle of Los Angeles, a place of hardwood floors and secret closets and back staircases. A house where ghosts lurk in the basement and the faces in the paintings watch you walk up the front stairs. Rooms where you keep the closet doors closed tight at night. It’s where her love of the mysterious and wonderful came from. Dianne is the author of m/m romance, paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, the occasional thriller, and anything else that comes to mind.

She now lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. Dianne says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee in her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.

 

Author Links: Blog / Facebook / Facebook Author Page / Goodreads / Instagram

Purchase Links: Amazon / JMS Books / B&N / KOBO / Smashwords

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For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

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.

Once Upon a Murder (A Lady Librarian Mystery)
by Samantha Larsen

 

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Once Upon a Murder (A Lady Librarian Mystery) by Samantha Larsen

Publication Date: February 20, 2024
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books 
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 304 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1639106219
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1639106219
Digital  ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0C4J6WW7B

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Book Synopsis

Miss Tiffany Woodall must sleuth the slaying of a footman to clear her beloved’s name in the second Lady Librarian mystery, in the vein of Deanna Raybourn and perfect for fans of Bridgerton.

1784 England. Officially hired as the librarian for the Duchess of Beaufort, Miss Tiffany Woodall is through with masquerades and murders for good. That is, until she stumbles upon the frozen dead body of former footman Mr. Bernard Coram. The speed with which her peaceful new life is upended is one for the record books: the justice of the peace immediately declares her the primary suspect in the murder.

As Tiffany hunts for the truth to clear her name, she learns that Bernard got into a fight over a woman at the local pub the night of his death–but he was also overheard blackmailing Samir. The justice of the peace arrests Samir, and Tiffany realizes that her life may have more in common with a tragic play than a light-hearted romance.

With her love locked up in jail and her own reputation on the line, Tiffany must attempt to solve the murder before the book closes on her or Samir’s life.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

It was a man.

            And his body was half covered in snow. Which meant that the corpse was cold and most likely dead. Warm skin melted snow, like the wet on her cheeks that looked like tears. Tiffany stooped down to her knees and saw that the man was very tall. Even face down in the mud, he had to be six feet. Practically a giant. He wore no hat and the back of his head and hair were covered in blood.

            With all of her strength, Tiffany tried to turn the body over. She pushed with her hand and then added her right shoulder until the form slowly turned face up. The legs still tangled stiffly together.

            She knew that face.

            Even muddy and bloody, she would have recognized Mr. Bernard Coram anywhere.

            Tiffany yanked off her wet glove and pressed her hand against his neck. There was no pulse there. His skin was as cold as ice and extremely pale. One of his eyes looked as if it had been blackened. And there were four long scratches on his left cheek. His lips were blue and snow frosted his eyebrows. He’d been dead for many hours.

            While Tiffany had never liked the handsome young man and former footman, she certainly hadn’t wished for his death.

            And what was he doing near her cottage?

            Bristle Cottage was at least a mile from the village of Mapledown and the road in front of her house led to Astwell Palace. The place where he had been dismissed five months previous for his terrible treatment of the Duchess of Beaufort’s adopted son, Mr. Thomas Montague. She recalled that his parent’s farm was somewhere near the village.

            Who or what had killed him?

            Only last year, Tiffany had helped solve her own half brother’s murder and the death of a lady’s maid. They had both been the unintended victims of the late Duke of Beaufort’s efforts to kill his wife and marry his lover. Tiffany had begun to unravel the mystery when she discovered that the two victims had both been given a snuffbox by the Duchess of Beaufort. Poison had been the murderer’s weapon of choice. She glanced around the road and open area. Between the mud and snow, she didn’t see a rock large enough to bludgeon a head. Nor any other manmade item that might have been used as a weapon.

            The sleet had covered up any tracks that might have been left by an animal or the murderer. The scratches on his face could indicate an unfortunate meeting with a wolf or a bear. She remembered the fairytale from her childhood, Little Red Riding Hood. A young girl goes into the forest to visit her grandmother’s cottage and is tricked by a wolf disguised as her.

“Grandmamma, what great arms you have got!”

“That is the better to hug thee, my dear.”

“Grandmamma, what great legs you have got!”

“That is to run the better, my child.”

“Grandmamma, what great ears you have got!”

“That is to hear the better, my child.”

“Grandmamma, what great eyes you have got!”

“It is to see the better, my child.”

“Grandmamma, what great teeth you have got!”

“That is to eat thee up.”

Then the wolf eats the girl. Tiffany’s cottage was in the forest, however, there were no Big Bad Wolf’s footprints in the mud. Only the two freshly made ruts by the wheels of a carriage which led her to believe that Bernard had met his death at the hands of a human.

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About Samantha Larsen

Samantha Larsen met her husband in a turkey sandwich line. They live in Salt Lake City, Utah, where she spends most of her time reading, eating popcorn, having tea parties, and chasing her four kids. She has degrees from Brigham Young University, the University of North Texas, and the University of Reading (UK). She also writes historical romances under Samantha Hastings. Learn more at www.SamanthaHastings.com

Author Links: Website / Instagram / Facebook / Twitter

Purchase Links
Amazon – B&N – Books A Million – Powells Books – Bookshop.org – Target – Walmart 

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TOUR PARTICIPANTS

February 15 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – CHARACTER GUEST POST

February 15 – The Mystery of Writing – AUTHOR GUEST POST

February 16 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW

February 17 – Reading Is My SuperPower – REVIEW

February 17 – MJB Reviewers – SPOTLIGHT

February 18 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT

February 19 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

February 20 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

February 21 – Novels Alive – REVIEW

February 22 – Sarah Can’t Stop Reading Books – REVIEW

February 22 – Celticlady’s Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

February 23 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee – SPOTLIGHT

February 24 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

February 24 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

February 25 – The Book Diva’s Reads – AUTHOR GUEST POST 

February 25 – Bigreadersite – REVIEW

February 26 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

February 27 – Ascroft, eh? – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

February 28 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

 

 

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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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